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#OH  !!!  aziraphale is .  Soft yall .  i love him  .
aziraphales-library · 5 months
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Hi mods Hope yall are doing good. Can i ask for some really domestic aziracrow? Like taking baths together and just being sappy
Hello. We have #fluff and #domestic fluff tags you can check out. Here are some domestic fluffly fics in which there is bathing...
Where Love Grows by AFrenchFanWriter, heeen (T)
“It starts, as it will end, with a garden.” Or After moving into their cottage in the South Downs, Crowley & Aziraphale cultivate flowers and memories together.
Soft and Soapy by Aegopixel (T)
“Can we skip to the part where I curl up next to the fireplace and fall asleep? It’d be nice to shed these layers so I can recuperate from the fatigue my tiresome good deeds caused.” At that request, Aziraphale placed his hands on his hips, looking for all the world like Peter Pan after facing down Captain Hook. “Actually, I’ve prepared something far more pleasing than that.” His statement peaked Crowley’s interest. “Oh really?” he drawled, tilting his head with seductive grace and a smirk to match. “What could be more pleasing, I wonder?” “Allow me to show you, my dear boy.” Crowley has spent his entire day out in the freezing cold, and now that they live together Aziraphale can take care of him in the most considerate of ways.
pausing the world to stay right where we are by RepQueen15 (T)
Aziraphale’s hands grasped at him gently, not in a commanding way, more like making sure he hadn’t stepped away. His pooling blue eyes gazed up at Crowley, and Crowley got the feeling he was just now realising how carefully they were doing this all, just how fondly he was being handled. Maybe he even guessed at the thoughts running through Crowley’s idiotically sappy mind right about now. In any case, he pulled at him slightly needily, almost vulnerable. He always looked this way, when he was at Crowley’s mercy, but there was no fear in his expression at all. “Are you…?” “‘M here, angel,” he said softly, stepping forward and taking Azirphale’s hand in his own. "It's okay." *** Crowley takes care of Aziraphale after Armageddon, exhausted, confused, but most of all, safe.
Lavender Haze by Scarlett_Oakenshield (T)
"You can stay at my place, if you like." "I don't think my side would like that." "You don't have a side anymore. Neither of us do." Right after the almost Armageddon, and with nowhere else to go, Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night. He takes a bubble bath to clear his head and decipher Agnes Nutter's final prophecy. Crowley joins him. They embrace their feelings with nothing left to lose, while simultaneously trying to figure out how they're going to get themselves out of this one. Or...canon compliant, couple bathing fluff for you to enjoy~
Just the Way You Are by Kat_Rowe (T)
Angels are, at their creation, biologically asexual. All too aware of his own vulnerability to pleasures of the flesh, Aziraphale has spent 6,000 years avoiding the sin of Lust by simply never adopting the equipment necessary to experience it. Until his relationship with Crowley started to grow more intimate (and more physical), Aziraphale never gave it much thought. Physical incompatibility can be solved in an instant, but he finds himself worrying how Crowley will react, and about the assumptions he might make. Now that they're covered in stardust and on their way into the shower, the issue can't be avoided any longer. But a tense discussion is a small price to pay for a romantic shower with your best friend in the universe.
he ahold of my hand by cuefog (G)
It takes them a while, but they do get there eventually: The cottage in the South Downs with the garden, and the greenhouse, and the private library of old books. The angel and the demon curled up in bed together, warm and safe under the covers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale has something to tell Crowley, but it takes him a few tries and a bit more time to figure things out for himself. (aka the slow burn after the slow burn: a collection of moments)
- Mod D
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puppie-b0y · 6 months
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This is set after season 2, but we're just gonna pretend the Metatron DIDNT break up the husband's- uhhh I mean.... the Metatron didn't ask aziraphale to take Gabriel's place. He just dealt with everyone, said "good job" to azi and crow and then kinda just... ✨️disappeared✨️ ...Anyways, hope yall enjoy!!
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After saving the town from the legion of demons, aziraphale and crowley decided to celebrate. It was crowley's idea, he said he knew "just the place to go to after all that". Aziraphale took that as "I have a calming, elegant place to make up for the foul demons and ignorant angels". And while it was a fairly calm, quiet place crowley took aziraphale to, it was also a bar.
Now, aziraphale had drunk alcohol before. I mean, he drinks wine with crowley all the time. But of course, he never drinks more than a glass at a time and has never actually gotten drunk. He didn't really have a problem with people who got drunk. He didn't do it himself, but he never badly judged anyone else when they did. Although he sometimes thought it was absolutely ridiculous how people would act sometimes.
All of that considered, a bar was just... not what he had in mind when crowley said he knew a place. It was dimly lit and not too busy, Azi will give him that. But it wasn't as fancy, nor as entertaining as he had thought the demon would have planned.
"Crowley?" Aziraphale talked as the bartender put a drink infront of the ginger man. Crowley gave a soft grunt in response. "Shouldn't we have gone somewhere more... treasuring?" Crowley looked at him, raising a brow "treasuring?" He asked. Aziraphale nodded "Yes, somewhere with more, er, ritz." Crowley slightly jerked his head back, offended. "Angel, I'm paying for your drinks and I'd buy you food if that's what you'd want! That's not 'ritzy' enough for you?" Aziraphale looked between his own glass and back a crowley "Well I- I didn't mean to offend you, I just meant, well, er..." He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, before opening them and sighing, looking back at his glass. "I don't know..." Once again, he looked at crowley. This demon hadn't looked or been so confused since Noah's arc. Whether he was still hurt or he had totally let go of what the blonde said, aziraphale felt bad for it. "Sorry." He said. Crowley turned back to the bar and picked up his drink "I was joking, Angel. I don't actually care."
He did. He did care. He wasn't mad or offended, he honestly just felt bad.
Maybe this was stupid He thought.
He just wanted to spend time with someone he loved enjoyed hanging out with. Did aziraphale not want the same? Did aziraphale not want this? Does he not want him?
By the way, this was crowley's third? Fourth drink? And it was very much not simple wine. He was drinking pure scotch. Either way, aziraphale's opinion would have mattered to him. He really cares what the other man has to say about him.
Aziraphale took a breath in and gave a small, simple smile "Oh... good." Crowley gave him a quick glance and then took another big gulp of his drink.
It's safe to say that by the end of the night, Crowley was VERY drunk. Aziraphale, on the other hand, was very much not. The bar was within walking distance to the bookshop, so luckily they didn't have to worry about driving. Although, crowley could barely walk without stumbling and/or falling every so often. They were now walking home, aziraphale's hand around crowley's waist, trying to make sure crowley doesn't get hit by a fucking car knows where to go. Crowley could care less about being hit by a car, he was too busy paying attention to the Queen song that was stuck in his head.
"Crow- ugh, crowley! You're being too loud!" Aziraphale yelled as he tried standing crowley up straighter. "She's a killer.... QUEEEEEEEN!" He shouted the last part into the air. Then he stopped and kept his eyes on the night sky. He sighed. "This is beautiful." He said. Aziraphale looked up, then back at Crowley. "Yes I... I suppose it is." He paused, then took a step towards Crowley "But we have to get home now, you are far too intoxicated." Crowley furrowed his eyebrows and took a deep breathe in.
This is what my creation looks like from earth?
He looked back at Aziraphale. "I made this. It was the biggest project I ever had." He looked back up at the stars. "What a waste." Aziraphale was taken aback, confused as to what the demon meant. "A waste? What makes you think it was a waste?" Crowley threw his arms up and let them fall at his sides harshly. "I made all that and I don't even get any credit. Thrown away like I didn't do anything good, look at that!" He points to all the stars in the sky and looks at the man infront of him, raising his voice. "I made a nebula!"
Aziraphale sighs, unsure of what to say or do in order to make Crowley feel better and let them go back to the shop. Crowley sighed and started walking past the angel. "Whatever I don't need him. I don't need God or the angels. I can do whatever I want now."
Aziraphale quickly caught up with him and talked whilst the crossed the street and walked into the shop. "Surely you don't mean that, I mean, there must have been something good about being an angel." Crowley plops down into the chair, and lays his head back, closing his eyes. "Nah."
They both paused until crowley shot up quickly and looking over his glasses at aziraphale, pointing to him. "Y'know I thought you had enjoyed the nebula more. I mean, you were there when I made it, you seemed to think it was nice. He took a few steps toward aziraphale and put his hands on his hips. Dont you think i deserve a little praise? Or at least some credit?"
Aziraphale looked at him, worried. Oh my, he's had way too much to drink.
He spoke calmly, trying to make the firey man feel better. "I do like it. I think you did an amazing job. I never meant to give the impression I don't think that."
Crowley sighed and waved his hand at him, turning back to the chair and sitting down once again. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now. I'm not with heaven or hell and I'm finally able to be with you, so it doesn't matter."
Those last few words made Aziraphale lose his mind. I'm finally able to be with you, so it doesn't matter. What could he possibly mean by that?
The question begged at the tip of aziraphale's tongue. "Wha- what... what do you mean?"
Crowley didn't even look at him, he just kept his head lied back and his eyes closed, talking like nothing he was saying mattered. "Oh come on, angel, you know I like you, don't be stupid now."
"Yeah, I... I know, we're... we're friends, I just-"
Crowley cut him off. "Oh shut up, you know what I mean. 'I have a crush on you', that's what the humans say, at least."
Tears pricked at aziraphales eyes. Crowley must be lying. He's drunk and stupid and he has no idea what he's saying. He would never like an angel, much less Aziraphale, right?
"I... I don't like when you're drunk, crowley. You say things you don't mean. I'm going to bed."
As Aziraphale walked past crowley's chair, the ginger stood up. The blonde didn't care to stop. That was until crowley took off his glasses, set them on the table, grabbed the other man's hand and turned him around. "Oh for God's sake." He said before pressing his lips to aziraphale's.
The angels lips were soft, gentle. Crowley felt like he were still standing with aziraphale in the middle of his Nebula. The beauty of the stars surrounding them, twinkling with passion. He'd waited to do this for so long. He didn't always know that this was what he wanted, all he knew was that he was lonely. And that Aziraphale made that better. He used to be so confused, but now, it had felt like everything had fallen into place.
Crowley's lips were rough and the kiss was messy and uncoordinated. But no matter how messy the kiss or surprised he felt, no matter how much he wanted to stop it because the smell of alcohol lingering on the demons lips was a bit overwhelming, he couldn't. He couldn't stop, he didn't want to. At this moment, all he wanted was Crowley. The man he has had so many fun, happy, amazing moments with was now kissing him. He loved this man. He knew that from the bottom to the top of his heart, all that was there was love for him. But that didn't stop his worries.
Aziraphale broke the kiss and stepped back. "You're... You're drunk. You don't mean this." He looks around, panicking, trying to sort out his millions of thoughts. "You'll wake up in the morning, have no memory of this, and act like nothing happened!" Aziraphale took a shaky breath in and tried pulling himself together before any tears fell. "I can't have you doing this if you don't mean it." Crowley furrowed his eyebrows with a sincere look in his eye. He stepped toward Aziraphale and spoke softly.
"Angel, I do mean it. I've felt this way since... I don't even remember, honestly. I thought if I told you, you'd run. Never talk to me again and act like I don't exist." He got closer to aziraphale, taking another step forward, until he was once again, right in front of the man. "But I'm so done with worrying. God couldn't stop me from doing what i want. The angels couldn't, and the demons didn't either. I can't keep acting like I don't want you, angel. Like I don't love you."
"...love?".
"Love." He pressed another kiss to Aziraphales lips. This time, it was gentle and short, but all the while, it was still enjoyable. He looked back at the angel.
"I love you, Aziraphale."
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selfsaving · 5 years
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               i  wish  aziraphale  was  my  dad
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inthewild-flowers · 4 years
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fic masterlist!
This is a masterlist of all my fics. Most of them can be found on AO3, although there is a Tumblr Drabble section at the end.
I’ll be updating this every time I post a new fic/finish posting a multi chapter fic. Enjoy!
Oneshots
Weak In The Knees
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Word Count: 575
Summary: Kind of just a whole lot of Wolfstar fluff. There's dancing involved.
Other: Maybe a muggle au?? I’m not entirely sure tbh, pretty cute if I do say so myself, the title comes from the Serena Ryder song weak in the knees.
Bright Yellow Ducks
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): James Potter/Lily Evans, background Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Word Count: 2114
Summary: Lily works at a corner store, and one day the Marauders walk in on a quest for ice cream.
Other: Muggle au, I’m pretty sure it was based on a post I saw but I wrote it a few years ago so I’m honestly not sure
Earth Angel
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Word Count: 674
Summary: I love fics where Remus is just an absolute angel, so here’s my version of that. Sirius has a crush on the cute guy who works at the bakery in his neighbourhood and finally get a chance to talk to him.
Other: Remus works at a bakery au, I wrote this after reading The London Underground Book Of Love by Children_of_the_Shadows on AO3 (absolutely would recommend, it’s amazing) and it’s probably one of my favourite fics I’ve written, the title is from the song Earth Angel by The Penguins
Gilderoy Lockhart Is A Dick (But His Dickery Has Some Interesting Consequences)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, background James Potter/Lily Evans
Word Count: 2699
Summary: When Remus finds out Gilderoy is cheating on him, the next thing he has to do is find out who he's cheating with. And if that person happens to be Sirius Black, well, Remus is okay with that. Based off of the joke me and my sister have about Legend of Korra: both of Mako's girlfriends leave him for each other.
Other: Muggle au, funny, crack fic, way more sex jokes than I usually write but it fits with the whole vibe of this fic
Text Me
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Word Count: 566
Summary: Written for girlwithacrown’s finish this fic challenge. My take on the second half of “Remus is a bookstore owner and Sirius comes in looking for a book during coronavirus lockdown” (might wanna read her first half tho lol).
Other: Here is @girlwithacrown ‘s first half of the fic, and here is her collection with the other fics that people wrote for their own versions of the second half!
Padfoot Won’t Leave
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Word Count: 2453
Summary: At the end of Harry's third year, Remus and Sirius have a plan to get Harry away from the Dursleys.
Other: crack fic, I tried my best to make it funny, someone sent a post to the wolf star games 2020 discord that said that there aren't enough “Sirius makes himself at home at the Dursley’s house because there’s nothing they can do to make him leave” fics and then we as a group decided to fix that. Here’s the collection of fics we wrote for it! :)
Rooftop Ramblings
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Aziraphale/Crowley
Word Count: 526
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley share a cigarette on a rooftop, and wish that things could be different.
Other: pining, the whole plot is literally just pining, written for a dtiys based on this art by @whiteleyfoster
yoga (sirius’s way)
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1043
Summary: Remus decides to start doing yoga to get some exercise during quarantine, and naturally, Sirius wants to try as well.
Other: Quarantine fic!!, domestic fluff, inspired by this art by @gaeilgelupin
two bros, going on a brocation, five feet apart cause they’re not gay
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1927
Summary: In which Sirius takes Remus on a surprise Christmas vacation
Other: Christmas fic!!, so much fluff, :))
🎶 Remus is a swearwolf 🎶
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus/Sirius, James/Lily/Regulus
Word Count: 2694
Summary: Regulus sighed. “Come on, Sirius, let’s get you off this thing and then you’ll feel better.” They pried Sirius’s hands off the bar and helped him out of the rollercoaster, where he stood for a moment on shaky legs, clutching Regulus’s arm.“I’m going to get some mint chocolate,” he declared once his legs had regained some of their strength, “and then we’re going to the haunted house and I’m getting my revenge.”
Other: A sequel to ice ice baby by @pan-and-ready-to-stan, 90% banter, a LOT of swearing, fluff
would it kill you if we kissed
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1741
Summary: Sirius leaned his head against the window and let his eyes flutter shut. Maybe if he slept, some of the horrible things would go away. Maybe if he slept, he would wake up to find that he was just on a normal road trip with one of his best friends. Maybe if he slept, he could forget the reason he was here at all.
Other: hurt/comfort, and also getting together!! bc I love get together fics :)
(i thought) i knew you 
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1432
Summary: Sometimes Sirius thinks that he might be okay. That maybe he’ll make it through this. He’s broken up with people before, hasn’t he? He’s been heartbroken before, and he’s always made it through. He’s survived so many things in his life that it seems silly that this would be the thing to break him.
Other: oh boy is there angst, that’s it that’s the fic just angst, there is a hopeful ending though??, there’s some super vague sort of references to self harm but it doesn’t like. happen
Got It
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 2859
Summary: Remus pushed down the butterflies in his stomach and accepted the vape when Sirius offered it, inhaling deeply and pointedly not thinking about how Sirius’s lips had been there just moments before. This was the closest Remus would ever get to kissing him. No, he told himself sternly, don’t think about that. It didn’t work. It never did.
Other: texting, fluff fluff fluffity fluff, getting together, written for marauders pride fanzine
in a cottage on a cliffside
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Word Count: 2865
Summary: “Are you cold?” Remus asked. “I’ve got another blanket somewhere…” he trailed off, looking at Sirius expectantly. Sirius shook his head.
“I’m fine.” he smiled again, then took another sip of his tea. He made the same face as before. It was adorable.
“Why are you here?” Remus asked. Sirius blinked at him.
“I wanted to see you.
Other: this was a birthday present for a friend, its fluff and a bit of pining and just generally soft :)) also a get together fic
The Year Remus Lupin Made Friends
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Word Count: 3546
Summary: James was sixteen years old, and it was summertime. Sirius and Pete were staying with him, Pete for a week, Sirius for the whole summer and hopefully every holiday after it too. James wanted to play quidditch, but the risk of being seen by muggles was too high, and his parents wouldn’t allow it. James was also very stubborn. His parents should have known to keep a closer eye on the boys, but some things can’t be helped. Here is what happened:
Other: written for a discord server secret santa. very marauders friendship focused, but also wolfstar at the end :))
In the dark and in the dusty sunlight
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Word Count: 1099
Summary: “I thought we were past such formalities, Lord Lupin.”“Indeed we are, Sirius, but it did feel right in the moment. You know,” Remus gave him an appraising look, and Sirius shivered, “you look rather like a painting, lying there like that.”“My dear Remus, we know very well that I am a work of art.”Remus laughed. “Yes, that has been well established.” He took off his hat and placed it on a table, then crossed over to the windows. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the curtains.
yall its gay historical pining thats it thats the summary
Other: its just,,,, a period drama. thats it. I wrote a scene from a period drama just for the pining.
Multi Chapter Fics
Love At First Hot Chocolate
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, background James Potter/Lily Evans
Chapter/Word Count: 5 chapters, 5069 words
Summary: 18 year old Remus Lupin works at Starbucks. He hates it. He hates that he has to talk to people and be nice. He hates making coffee (although he doesn't mind the hot chocolate). But one day, Sirius Black walks in. For Remus, it's love at first sight. But does Sirius feel the same way?
Other: Muggle au, sort of a coffeeshop au in that they meet at a coffeeshop but otherwise it’s not it there much, fluff, might have been inspired by a post I saw a few years ago about Remus working at a coffeeshop and always getting Sirius’s name wrong?? But again, I wrote this a few years ago and don’t really remember lol
I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans
Chapter/Word count: 2 chapters, 1431 words
Summary: James is getting married, and Sirius worries that he won't get to see his best friend anymore. One night, he vents his feelings to a cute stranger at a pub, who happens to be in a similar situation.
Other: Muggle au, title from the Tom Waits song I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You
If You Want To Buy Me Flowers
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Chapter/Word Count: 3 chapters, 1499 words
Summary: Remus owns a flower shop. Sirius is breaking up with his boyfriend using flower language.
Other: Muggle au, Remus is a florist au, inspired by a post I saw about flower meanings, title from the song Two Princes by Spin Doctor
Don’t Shoot The Messenger
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Lily Evans, Alice (I don’t know her last name)/Frank Longbottom
Chapter/Word Count: 16 chapters, 13,192 words
Summary: Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin has been exchanging messages with someone on a bathroom stall. Neither of them know who the other one is, and now that they're graduating soon, they want to find out.
Other: Muggle au, modern au, Remus isn't part of the Marauders au, a bit of texting
Love Through The Ages
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, some vague background James Potter/Lily Evans
Chapter/Word Count: 4 chapters, 2213 words
Summary: Remus finds a love letter that Sirius wrote to him two centuries previously and never sent.
Other: They’re vampires au, I guess technically muggle au??, fluff, love letters, confessions, inspired by this post by @kayvsworld
“No, Sirius, tying the stems of flowers together will NOT make a flower crown”
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Chapter/Word Count: 4/4 chapters, 4247 words
Summary: In which Sirius can’t make a flower crown, Remus thinks Sirius might be flirting, and James has no clue what’s going on.
Other: so much fluff, oblivious James, inspired by this art that I love a lot by @girlwithacrown
Hogwarts, 1993
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (this may change, I don’t have the fic planned out at all, so it could end up with a G rating, but I’ve rated it T just to be safe)
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Chapter/Word Count: 7/? chapters, 7248 words as of October 4 2020
Summary: When Sirius escapes Azkaban and goes to Hogwarts, instead of lurking around as the Grim like a FOOL, he decides to seek help from an old friend.
Other: I don't have any warnings for this one yet, but I’ll put them in if necessary. I’ll be posting the chapters as I write them, and I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t take too long.
the doc was called halloween babeyy
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Lily Evans
Chapter/Word Count: 6 chapters, 1240 words
Summary: a self indulgent halloween fic with pumpkin shenanigans, meet cutes, and texting. 
“They’re battle scars,” Remus repeated. “And you can’t call him just ‘pumpkin’ anymore, his official title is the PumpKing and he requires it to be used at all times.” Remus finished carving out the last scar, and picked up the sharpie to draw the outline of a crown near the top of the pumpkin. One he was satisfied, he picked up his knife and started cutting along the lines.“In that case,” James said, “Mine’s the PumPeasant and he looks like this because of a childhood disease.”
Other: ‘tis all fluff :))
a very (in)effective seduction
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Chapter/Word Count: 10/? chapters, 9557 words
Summary: In which Sirius decides that it's time to seduce Moony. Yes, he has a list
Other: written for girlwithacrown and kidovna’s blissember chirstmas prompts! get together, fluff, etc.
Note: I will finish this eventually, but I was struggling a lot with writing it, so it may take some time. I do have it sort of planned out, and once I have the motivation to write it again it shouldn’t take too long to finish :))
dreaming of you
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Dorcas Meadowes/Marlene McKinnon
Chapter/Word Count: 6/? chapters, 4932 words
Summary:
 french bitch: I have arrived
french bitch: paris has gained a resident and he is magnificent
sweet sweet moony: paris is usually referred to as she
french bitch: HOW DARE
Jimmy: he does have a point tho
or: Sirius is in france on his study abroad year, remus is pining, and James and Peter are enjoying the chaos
Other: texting, fluff, theres eventually gonna be wolfstar and dorlene and either jily or jegulily I haven’t decided yet
You Hold The Key To My Heart
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, James Potter/Lily Evans/Regulus Black
Chapter/Word Count: 38 chapters, 26 049 words
Summary: Sirius threw himself on his bed, not caring about how he must be wrinkling his clothes. In fact, he relished the idea. At least his parents would have a reason to be angry with him today. He stayed there, thinking about soft curls and a sweet face that he barely caught a glimpse of, until the sun was shining directly through his window and James arrived to help him dress for dinner.
Or, a victorian au in which Remus is a gardener, Sirius is a dramatic rich kid, and they fall in love.
Other: I wrote this for the 2020 wolfstar games. it’s mainly fluff, but I also got to indulge my love of historical things which was amazing :D
Series
Dan’s cute & short wolfstar fics with no plot that make them happy to write :)
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Number of works: 4
Complete: No
Works in the series:
Goodnight Moony - Remus doesn’t want to go to bed. Sirius thinks Remus should go to bed. 201 words.
Snow - It’s literally just Remus and Sirius enjoying the snow, that’s it, that’s the fic, please enjoy. 124 words.
I Just Called To Say I love You - Sirius calls Remus the night before a big exam. 174 words.
Lupin Can’t Sing - Please read the title to the tune of “lupin can’t sing, lupin can’t sing, lupin cannot sing!” from AVPS. Remus is drunk and trying really really hard at karaoke. 409 words.
Ruby Tuesday - Remus and Sirius cuddle and listen to Ruby Tuesday. It's very cute, if I do say so myself. 259 words.
HP Pride Month 2020!!
Rating: General Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Lily Evans/James Potter
Number of works: 4
Complete: Yes
Other: All the fics in this series were written for @girlwithacrown ‘s HP pride month prompts, and you can find other fics written for those prompts in her collection on AO3!
Works in the series:
Coming Out - Remus and Sirius decide to tell their friends they're dating. 1035 words.
Flag - Sirius and James make unique additions to their pride flags, and at the pride parade they see two other people with matching flags. 1126 words.
Family - Sirius runs away from home. 898 words.
Healing - Remus's dog gets hurt, and the vet is way hotter than Remus was prepared for. Sirius may or may not have Ted from Schitt's Creek vibes. It was mostly unintentional. 1012 words.
Working Title: Summertime
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Ship(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans
Number of Works: 2
Complete: No
Works in the series:
Forgiveness & Friendship - The summer after sixth year (and The Prank, you know which one. The one with Snape. And Remus.), Sirius shows up on James's doorstep. 13 chapters, 4437 words
Mischief & Matchmaking - The marauders (+ Lily) are spending a few weeks at James’s house, and oh boy is there a lot of sexual tension there. Peter decides to do something about it. Featuring: shenanigans and three separate tropes cause why not. 17/17 chapters and 6772 words.
dan?? writing angst?? it’s more likely than you’d think
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Ship(s): Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Number of Works: 3
Complete: No
Works in the series:
stardust is easily lost - He kisses him because he loves him, because loving Sirius is a habit he’s never been able to break, not in school when he thought loving Sirius would kill him, and not now when he thinks that Sirius might kill them all. It keeps him up at night sometimes.
cascade - Teaching at Hogwarts is equal parts wonderful and miserable. He loves his students, but some days he looks at them and he sees himself, happy and carefree, with his best friends at his side. Those days are the hardest.
the death of a star - And sometimes, Sirius almost seems like his old self again. Sometimes, his mischievous grin that Remus remembers all too well will appear on his face, and he’ll lean over and whisper a snide comment in Remus’s ear, and Remus will have to try to stifle a laugh.
Other: yall this is angst, there is major character death, its A Lot, theyre also down in the Tumblr drabbles section & their titles are all variations of “angst babeyyy”
dan is a) yearning and b) obsessed with dorlene and bookstores
Rating: General Audiences and Teen and Up Audiences
Ship(s): Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes
Number of Works: 3
Complete: No
Works in the series:
1. Walking In a Winter Wonderland – As they skated, Marlene couldn’t take her eyes off of Dorcas. She knew that they were holding a conversation somehow or other––about Dorcas’s job at the bookstore, she was fairly certain––but her brain was on autopilot as she watched the lights dance across Dorcas’s face, lighting up the night like miniature stars.
2. adventures pertaining to love actually (and also shrek) – The woman shook her head solemnly, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You absolutely cannot.”They grinned at each other for a moment, then the woman’s eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall and she swore. “I’ve got to go. It was nice talking to you! And you’ll have to tell me what you think of that movie if you watch it!”“I will!” Dorcas called after her, and the woman waved as she hurried out the door.Well. She sure hoped that Love Actually was on Netflix. (note: this one is set before the first fic in the series)
3. it can't be hard to find a present right?? (wrong) – “What’cha got there?” Frank flopped into the chair beside Dorcas and took a sip of his coffee, eyeing the mess of yarn on her lap with curiosity.
“It’s not weird to make her a scarf, is it?”
“...to make who a scarf?”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
Other: yeah im just being generally fluffy and self indulgent here, enjoy! :))
Tumblr Drabbles
“It’s three in the morning” - jegulus
“This is the opposite of what I told you to do!” - wolfstar
“Do you have a ride home?” - wolfstar
“Come cuddle” - wolfstar
“I am home” - dorlene
“I’m getting married? Since when were you choosing my future spouse?” - wolfstar
“Another bad date?” - jily
James and Remus being very very chaotic bros
24 hour diner au - wolfstar
they have the same favourite chair - wolfstar
Sirius loses Remus’s present (and James helps him look) – wolfstar
when she wears YOUR flannel shirt - dorlene
when you can’t choose just one snuggly blanket so you wrap up in all of them - the marauders
angst babeyyyyyyyyy - first war wolfstar
2 angst 2 babeyyyyyyyyy - poa wolfstar
angst babeyyyy 3.0 - ootp sorta wolfstar
high school/college minifest day 1: back to school - wolfstar
high school/college minifest day 2: detention - wolfstar
remus has whipped cream on his face and sirius canNOT handle it - wolfstar
hufflepuff remus who makes friends with the marauders - wolfstar
dorcas is hurt and marlene is taking care of her - dorlene
remus is a lil shit (back hugs prompt) - wolfstar
just friends booty shorts - James and sirius
night at the museum au - wolfstar and jily
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thepastelpeach · 5 years
Note
My theory for your good omens circus au: Crowley used to be one of the 'angels' and was the best one. However one night he got into an accident in the show (purpose. Somebody betrayed him) which caused the career ending injury. He can't prove any of them did it, but he misses the feeling of flying. Aziraphale, when he preforms for joy instead of show during practice, almost gives him the same feeling of breathlessness.
anon:  oh i absolutely love this circus au!!! esp the angst potential with crowley legitimately being a ‘fallen angel’ if im correctly assuming his leg brace situation. im imagining like,,, azi asking and him lashing out and then ages after azi asks again and he tells him and it’s soft and sad and this is a long ask now but i just adore angst and this au okay bye
yall are pretty much right on the money!!
he was a super famous aerialst, his most famous trick being The Bottomless Tightrope. its where they would remove the nets under him(leaving some thick mats on the floor, but still that drop was like 40 ft) and he would blindfold himself then walk across. one night the ropes snap(everyone assumes its just an accident, old equipment that wasnt checked correctly) and crowley falls, breaking both his legs. his left leg heals alright, but his right one which got the most damage wasnt the same after
he stays with the circus after that(he doesnt have anywhere else to go, the circus is his entire life) and when his legs heal completely he moves to being a stagehand. he’s super thorough when checking the lines and stuff, part of the reason his hands are so calloused, cause he doesnt want what happened to him to happen to anyone else
he also watches the aerialists practice just to be 100% sure nothing goes wrong, but also in a bittersweet way cause he misses it and watching is the closest he can come to being back up there
in the original post i said “he only starts really enjoying it after azira joins” because it goes from a kind of selfharm to admiration, cause he genuinely loves seeing azira so free and happy
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abbybubbls · 4 years
Text
5 Easy Steps
I wrote a Good Omens thing a while ago, it’s on my AO3, but I felt the need to post it here... because I can. This fic is VERY self-indulgent. My mental health obviously hasn’t been so great throughout this year (just like everybody’s), and I have been projecting myself onto Aziraphale a lot. Writing this really helped, and I hope yall like it.
(I also fixed and added very minimal things to this, so I guess I gotta do the same for the AO3 version, huh? Yeah, I’mma get to that.)
If you’re ever feel the need to talk to somebody, please do. Reaching out for help can go a long way. :)
- Enjoy -
Summary: A month has passed since Aziraphale last called Crowley, and he suddenly gets a message. Good thing he’s not a heavy sleeper.
Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. “This is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style.” Bee-EEP!
Crowley opened his eyes slowly.
“Again…? Uh- Crowley? Are you there? I- I don’t know if you can hear me, but ah… I don’t… I’m not feeling my very best, and uhm… I was hoping we could talk to get my mind off of it, but… I know you don’t like being interrupted in your sleep, so… I won’t stop you. If you want, you can call back whenever… Goodnight, Crowley.”
“Angel, I’m right next to you.”
“CROWLEY-!”
With a jump, Aziraphale dropped the phone to the floor. He clutched his chest, holding onto the corner of his desk. Crowley simply had his hands in his pajama pants’ pockets, with this subtle concerned look on his face. His hair was noticeably a tangly mess.
“You alright?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale swallowed and tried to compose himself by straightening his vest.
“Not after seeing you inches close!” he exclaimed. “At least knock the door, Crowley…!”
“I’m sorry,” Crowley shrugged a bit. “Heard you weren’t feeling great, and I wanted to see for myself.”
“Well…” It sounded like Aziraphale was conjuring up some kind of retort, but he paused. His frightened posture softened. “You didn’t have to, but… thank you.”
Crowley’s response was a small nod.
“Nobody has seen you outside, breaking any rules,” Aziraphale asked. “Right?”
It took Crowley a few seconds to remember that there was a lockdown still going on. “Oh- no, I miracled here, in the middle of your message.”
“Okay…” Aziraphale’s voice was quiet. Crowley glanced down to see his hands wringing together. He’s seen this before.
Without looking behind him, Crowley plopped down on the couch, patting an open spot. “C’mere, sit.”
Aziraphale promptly did so, adorably politely sitting next to Crowley, with his hands on his lap.
The two sat in silence for a moment. Crowley was observing Aziraphale, catching up notice that every few seconds, he’d try to come up with something to say, only to stop himself multiple times. His fingers were clutching onto each other as if they had their own little ten lives, and they all depended on hugging so tightly, that the knuckles almost went white. Crowley took notice of this, seeing Aziraphale’s face turning pink. He could sense the anxiety in the whole bookshop. He’s seen this before.
“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, only getting skittish glances. “Aziraphale-”
“Yes!” The response was quick, with the angel turning to Crowley with a small and nervous grin. “What- What is it?”
Crowley pursed his lips. “You gonna… tell me what’s wrong?”
Aziraphale opened his mouth and stopped for the nth time. “Well… I don’t know if it’s something that is wrong at all.”
“I mean, it’s gotta be something that’s bothering you,” Crowley said. “You did say you’re ‘not feeling your very best’, so… what’s up?”
A small sigh. “I’m just… antsy, I suppose.”
“Over what?” Crowley asked. His arm was draped over the top of the couch, and over behind Aziraphale’s shoulders. The angel wiggled a bit and cleared his throat.
“Over… this.” He gestured weirdly with his hands. Crowley doesn’t get it. “This year has been… strange. We all thought this year would be something special and exciting, but it just… spat at us with a bunch of things at once.”
Crowley shrugged lightly. “We’ve had big pandemics every one hundred years. It happens, angel. You know that.”
“I do,” Aziraphale replied, hands still clasped together. “I do, but I… I know it’s nothing for me to worry about, and I know I should try to focus on myself for once, but… so much has happened, that I  can’t  focus on myself at all. Even in America, I’m worried. Can’t people just go by the rules? Is it that hard for people, who claim to just love love LOVE their country so much, to stay indoors and respect others by how they look? Whatever happened to common human decency?!”
Crowley has been taking a nap for a month, so he obviously hasn’t caught up on the news, especially with what’s happening in America… but from the tone of Aziraphale’s voice and his wording, Crowley could tell that something big must be going on over there… again.
Aziraphale leaned back on the couch, with Crowley noticing his hands gesturing around and shaking as he spoke. “And I know! I know there are good people, who are fighting and protesting for a wonderful cause, and they’re all putting their lives on the line, but… no matter what I hear, from two people taking walks outside, to a single person I let visit my bookshop for comfort, it’s always bad news, everywhere…”
Crowley silently nodded along, and Aziraphale’s voice started to waver. “I’m sick of it. To the point where I’m not sure what news could be real or not- I…”
Aziraphale almost flinched at the feeling of a careful hand on his back. Crowley was frowning, watching him attempt to wipe his eyes with his trembling hands multiple times.
“I just feel so helpless,” he said as a whisper, now clenching fists against his lap. “At first, I liked staying in the bookshop, because staying home would be helping people. I’m an angel, I’m supposed to help people. But now, with everything that is happening out  there… I hate it here. I hate staying cooped up, I hate not being able to do anything about these problems that have absolutely nothing to do with me, or you.”
For some reason, it’s always a surprise to Crowley that Aziraphale would sometimes use the word ‘hate’. And he loves just about everything in the world.
“I’m just…” Aziraphale held in a breath and sighed shakily. “Not feeling like myself lately. I want this ‘bad news’ year to be over. And we thought 2016 and Armageddon were bad, heheh…”
He laughed, weakly. It was a poor time to add humor into this, but Crowley would have to give the angel credit, at least he tried.
Crowley watched as Aziraphale kept wiping his eyes, sniffling lightly. “Oh, I’m- I’m sorry, Crowley, I- I… I figured you wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this. I knew waking you up was a bad idea.”
“Aziraphale,” Crowley shifted on the couch, facing the angel. His hand was still on his back, comfortingly. “Feeling like all of that is okay. You’re not the only one-”
“I know, Crowley!” Aziraphale was gritting his teeth, making Crowley hold his hand back. The angel quickly looked guilty from his sudden snappy tone, and tears welled back up in his eyes. His voice broke. “I know.”
“Angel-”
Aziraphale then started crying. Frowning deeply, Crowley immediately pulled him into a gentle hug. “I’m sorry- It’s okay, it’s alright. I’m here, angel. Shhhshhshshshshshh. I’m right here.”
Aziraphale tugged onto the back of Crowley’s shirt, sobbing. Brushing his fingers through the angel’s hair and rubbing his back, Crowley began rocking from side to side. “Let it out now, Aziraphale, it’s alright. I’m here, it’s okay.”
Minutes have passed, and Aziraphale’s crying quieted down. Crowley figured that he’d be feeling better by now, but once his arms went free, Aziraphale’s grip around him tightened, which began another round of soft crying.
“Shhhhhh.” Crowley sighed and continued rubbing Aziraphale’s back gently. “Breathe. You’re alright.”
There were only small, desperate whimpers. Crowley sighed through his nose, feeling his eyes sting a bit. His eyebrows then raised, remembering something. He put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Aziraphale, look at me.”
Aziraphale was lifted off of Crowley, but his head was down with his eyes shut closed. Crowley cupped his cheeks, wiping dried tear streaks off. “Look at me, angel.”
Melting at his touch, Aziraphale’s hand went up to hold Crowley’s. His eyes opened slowly, puffy from crying, looking into Crowley’s.
“You wanna try something for me?” Crowley asked. “I think it’ll help.”
Both hands were being held as the two shifted on the couch. Aziraphale cleared his throat multiple times.
Crowley held up a hand freely. “Name five things you see.”
Aziraphale opened his mouth, and stopped.
“Five things you can see,” Crowley said. “You don’t have to list every single thing in the shop.”
“I know…” Aziraphale’s voice croaked, and he cleared his throat again. “Uh… The lamp… the desk… the bookshelf… the phone… and you.”
“Alright,” Crowley said, holding up four fingers. “Four things you can feel.”
Aziraphale pursed his lips. With his leg dangling off the edge of the couch, his toes wiggled in his sock. “My socks…”
He glanced down to see his thumb fiddling underneath his pinkie ring. “My ring…”
He gripped onto the blanket on the couch. “The blanket…”
He felt Crowley’s hand holding onto his, carefully. “And you.”
Crowley held up three fingers. “Three things you can hear.”
Aziraphale blinked. “Well, that one must be a bit difficult to understand, don’t you think…?”
One of Crowley’s eyebrows quirked upward, and he was smirking. Aziraphale blushed. “Right. Uh… me…”
He looked around the room, seeing his record player, not playing anything. “Whatever song is playing in my head… if that counts…”
“It does, don’t worry,” Crowley said.
“And you,” Aziraphale finished.
Smiling softly, Crowley held up two fingers. “Two things you can smell.”
Aziraphale took a deep breath through his nose, and sighed with a small smile. “My leftover cake from yesterday…”
Another deep breath, and Aziraphale blinked up at Crowley. “And you…”
Crowley was curious as to what the Someplace Aziraphale might have caught that smelled like him, but another part of him just went, “No, he’ll just fuss over how weird you smell, you’ve been sleeping for a month, get it together, man.”
Crowley shook it off, and held up one finger. “One thing you can taste.”
“Oh, now that’s just too many to choose from,” Aziraphale muttered, making Crowley snicker. The angel snapped his fingers, in an attempt to recollect any remaining taste from the cakes he’s had. His hand then clenched into an excited fist, and he grinned. “The cherries from my Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte!”
Crowley’s smile widened along with Aziraphale’s. He held onto both of his hands now, feeling the trembling go away. A little bit of the anxieties were still there, but at least the angel was smiling.
“It wasn’t any miracle,” Crowley said. “But you can use that little shtick to help you if you’re ever feeling worried again.”
“I still am feeling worried…”
“And that’s okay.” Crowley’s voice was soft. “You can just use it to be more aware of your surroundings instead of what’s going on somewhere else. And yeah, it doesn’t get rid of how you’re feeling, but it helped, right?”
Aziraphale nodded slowly. “It did.”
“Right,” Crowley replied, cupping the angel’s cheek again. “It’s just a little reminder that you’re still here. And you’re safe. You have every right to be worried about America. There can be dumb people and there can be smart people. Try not to let it take over your whole head when you think about it. Okay?”
Aziraphale nodded again with a smile. “Alright, I’ll try. Thank you, Crowley.”
“No problem, angel.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale again, pulling him in for another tight hug. “If you feel the need for help, just ask me. I’ve helped you dozens of times before, and I’ll keep doing it dozens of times again.”
There was a tearful chuckle. “I just don’t want to push all of my troubles onto you.”
“I honestly don’t care,” Crowley said. “I’m not the  best  therapist demon in the world, but I still want to help you in any way that I can.”
The only response to that was Aziraphale’s grip, tightening around Crowley’s shirt. He could practically feel the angel smiling. He could tell he was thankful.
Minutes have passed.
“You know, Crowley… you don’t have to stay over here.”
“Yeah, I know. But I want to anyway.”
“Oh… you’re too kind.”
“‘Kind’ is a four-letter-word, Aziraphale.”
“Uh… you’re too… great?”
“Better.”
A tiny scoff, but the hug didn’t break. “I admire you, but you can be a real pain in the wing over such simple words.”
A shrug. “Eh. What can you do.”
“Well… nothing, really.”
“Great.”
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moki-dokie · 5 years
Note
aziraphale listening to way crowley just moans beneath that first push, the way he slowly writhes under the slow glide of aziraphale's hands up his spine until they can grasp his shoulders
this is cruel and unusual make moki horny day. fine. yall want horny i’ll give you gotdamn horny.
it’s a slow push into him, letting crowley stretch around him nice and easy. they don’t get to do this often, and every time might as well be like the first. Crowley’s always so tight, always so nervous and pent up. he’s a spring coiled too tightly and aziraphale takes time to very carefully unwind him, little by little. until finally he’s been worked enough that aziraphale can make that first oh so slow push inside him.
the noises crowley makes are divine. his gravelly moans, higher pitched whimpers and whines. And he whimpers quite a lot. the breathless way he tries to say aziraphale’s name but can’t quite seem to get it out, the air from his lungs stolen away from another shallow thrust. he writhes and reaches and claws at the bed, knuckles white. his head drops and presses into the mattress as aziraphale pulls out. slow. so slow. his groan is muffled as he feels every single centimeter slide out of him, feel the smooth ridges from veins, feel the head catch on tight, stretched muscle and linger there.
aziraphale bends down to kiss his shoulders, his neck. whispers how lovely he is, how good he feels, how well he takes it. like he was made to take it. the praise makes crowley shudder, has a damp spot beneath him spreading, cock twitching. soft hands gliding up his back, over his sides, across sharp shoulder blades, then grab onto his shoulders.
“do you remember the rules, my dear?” aziraphale asks, his voice husky yet still so loving.
crowley’s voice is already broken. “i don’t come until you say.”
aziraphale pulls him back by the shoulders and buries himself inside as deep as he can possibly get.
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shesthewindandsea · 5 years
Text
if the lord dont forgive me, i’d still have my baby (and my babe would have me)
Summary: It's snowing tonight in Soho. The air is frigid and the ground is wet. Inside a bookshop, there's a demon experiencing the greatest crisis in known human history, but the angel sitting with him thinks he may be able to help.
Beginning Notes: So I’m starting to pick up on a pattern. Seems like whenever I wanna write something this bastard is always at the center of everything and really, what am I gonna do about that? Plug him apparently. @ineffablefool Go read this idiot’s stuff, it’s kind of good I guess I’m totally joking it’s all fantastic but yall should know that by now if you’re here. And!! @scribblemakes go look at all his art right now!!! It’s absolutely fantastic and beautiful and honestly freckled Crowley is one of my favorite things in the world which is why that’s basically what half this fic is about. The other half is just Aziraphale being chubby and getting kisses everywhere. This is literally the softest thing I have ever and will ever write in my entire existence. I have nowhere to go but down. 
Oh and the title is from a Hozier song, yeah we’re all really surprised I know. The song is called Work Song and I recommend you listen to this version just because it’s fantastic
-
Outside the doors of the bookshop, the evening air is still and quiet. Snow is falling silently from the clouds passing slowly in front of the moon. It’s quite a spectacle to all the children watching from their bedroom windows, eyelids heavy and blankets tucked up to their chins. All eyes, though laden with sleep, are ashine with a kind of innocent joy that can only come from a child. They’ll fall asleep thinking about a day off from school spent making snow angels and throwing snowballs and causing a general ruckus as they run in-between strangers on the sidewalk. They’ll certainly be disappointed when the morning comes and the world outside is barren of any snow, the lingering warmth in the stonework from the overcast sun that afternoon melting the snow once it touched the ground. Tears will, no doubt, be shed over the lack of highly anticipated snowman building material. This is, quite possibly, the biggest upset in known human history.
Inside the bookshop, however, a much different story is being told. The cold winter air pushes up from the floorboards, through the gap in the front doors, through the crack in a window frame. Even with the sharp cut of the frigid air filtering into the close quarters of the backroom, it didn’t have the chance to make the room any colder than Aziraphale willed it to be. The space heater glowing with a warm orange light in the corner may have also helped the process along and replaced the silence with a gentle hum and the occasional sputter.* 
*Aziraphale had initially started out with an ornate fireplace at the back of the room. He was rather proud of his craftsmanship and was excited to show off his recent update to Crowley once he arrived. That was, until his demon burst through the door with a slam and in a deranged panic, raving about the pungent smell of smoke and wallpaper burning, tears streaming down his cheeks and I couldn’t find you. Aziraphale wasn’t particularly attached to the fireplace, anyhow. A space heater will do the job just as well, dear, no need to fret.
Read on AO3!
 The air smells faintly of old parchment paper, book binding glue, and leather. The scent never seems to fade and Crowley suspects Aziraphale has something to do with that as well. Most humans find it somewhat distasteful and often find themselves making a rather startled face upon entering the shop followed immediately by an amusing and unattractive nose crinkle. 
That doesn’t always drive them away, though, and Crowley becomes further amused while Aziraphale would get rather frumpy, forming the most ridiculous and petulant pout he’d ever seen. The angel would make sure to use extra binding glue those days, making the smell all the more pungent. 
It makes Crowley want to kiss him. So sometimes, he does. He’ll lean over the front of Aziraphale’s workstation, tap the angel on the shoulder, and when he looks up, Crowley will try to snag a kiss from the angel’s lips. Occasionally, he’ll miss and land on his forehead or cheek, but nonetheless, Crowley is satisfied. 
Other times he’ll let Aziraphale brood loudly about the shop. He’ll put a little more force into his step and his double chin will become just a bit more pronounced as he tips his head down to keep his glare directed toward the floor. The emotions flicker across his face clearly displaying the war going on inside his angel’s brain, torn between politeness and some drastic steps that would “gently” encourage any potential customers quickly back out the door and onto the street.
You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here and all that. Thank you and have a nice day.
 Crowley would lean next to the till and watch, just basking in the presence of his grumpy angel. He used to pretend like he wasn’t watching. Like every minute he spent around Aziraphale wasn’t worth every second of secrecy and denial. His glasses did a lot of that work for him then. But now, things were different and Crowley didn’t want to waste a moment of their time together pretending anything. 
Moonlight lurks in the gaps of the shutters and gently attempts to creep across the floor hoping to reach the back of the old, lumpy settee. The moonlight hopes it can linger in the white curls of the angel currently residing there before the demon in his lap notices and gets jealous. Let it never be said that the moonlight is frightened of Crowley’s jealous indignation — though it will admit it’s become quite familiar with being on the receiving side of Crowley’s hissing and it knows well what it’s like to face the demon head on. 
The biggest upset in human history inside the bookshop? Well, it’s just that Crowley couldn’t press his face any closer into Aziraphale’s belly. Not without knitting their skin together, fusing cell by cell, permanently pressing his cheek into the grooves of each individual stretch mark kissing the angel’s stomach, thighs, arms.
 If only, he laments. If only he could remain here forever, his nose pushing into the available skin between Aziraphale’s waistband and where his shirt has come untucked, waistcoat and coat discarded long ago. 
If he could just bask until the end of time in the skin-on-skin contact, the soothing scrape of Aziraphale’s perfectly manicured nails gliding through his hair and along his scalp while the angel’s plush thighs pillow Crowley’s head and neck. He longs to kiss the plump flesh there hidden beneath Aziraphaple’s sensible trousers. In the pitch black of the room, save for the warm glow of the heater and the errant beam of moonlight stretching towards them, (as if he wouldn’t notice it) he can’t imagine moving a single muscle for the next century..
 If only.
Rather than linger on this particular tragedy, Crowley focuses his energy on appreciating exactly what he has in front of him right now, which is to say, absolute perfection. Even knowing he really has nowhere left to go, Crowley pushes his nose into the fat of Aziraphale’s stomach, groaning at the all warmth and love stored there. His arms snake tighter around his angel, squeezing. His fingers just barely brush each other behind Aziraphale’s back, forcing him to sit forward just a bit. 
Aziraphale makes a noise that Crowley thinks is supposed to be something like annoyance and scolding, but it ends up sounding more fond to him than anything else.
“Really now, dear. Your nose is poking me and it’s quite unpleasant. You’re going to have to release me.” In response, Crowley chooses not to move a single inch and grumbles something low into Aziraphale’s tummy. The angel can’t help but shake with laughter at the sensation. Crowley’s face curls up in an impossibly doting grin and though Aziraphale can’t see the full extent of Crowley’s adoration, he can feel it pressed into his body and somewhere low in his rib cage where he is positively thrumming with unadulterated affection.
“I’m sorry?” Aziraphale speaks around his smile. One hand remains in Crowley’s hair while the other skirts over his shoulders and under the collar of his shirt to rest his palm on Crowley’s bare back. He can feel the curve of Crowley’s spine and the way he moves with each inhale and exhale. He can feel Crowley’s heartbeat in his hands.
 The demon pulls back just enough to speak.
“I said,” Crowley drawls, “‘S impossible. Can’t move.” Each word comes out a hot puff of air against Aziraphale’s skin and it sends a shiver through his entire body.
“Is that so?”
“Mm. It is. Wouldn’t lie to you, would I, angel?”
“Ah, well,” Aziraphale teases, “wily and cunning serpent that you are, I never know when to trust you.”
“Shall I prove it to you then? I’m more than willing.” Crowley rolls away from Aziraphale’s soft middle just enough to stare up at the angel. His eyes glow like fireflies in the dim light and Aziraphale can imagine being swallowed by them, losing himself there for as long as it takes Crowley to blink. The hand in Crowley’s hair trails down the side of his face, caressing a sharp cheekbone and soothing his thumb over wrinkles in the corner of Crowley’s eye.
“You’re so beautiful,” Aziraphale whispers suddenly. He didn’t mean to say them, those words, but before he could stop and think, they were rushing up his throat, dancing across his tongue, sung from his lips like a prayer. Well, maybe not a prayer. Perhaps more like a song.
That happens sometimes, where he just can’t help himself. Crowley really is the most beautiful being Aziraphale has ever had the fortune to happen upon. And the words just come so naturally. The need to show Crowley how much he loves him, how much he positively adores him, fills him up like a helium balloon. 
The guilt consumes him, sometimes, when Crowley isn’t looking, when he isn’t around to remind him. All that wasted time and all the hurt he had caused. He knew and yet everything felt so hopeless. It felt like vines weaving throughout the gaps in his rib cage, his heart and lungs constricted, struggling to beat and inflate. 
 And then Crowley would be there, standing in front of Aziraphale with hands on shoulders, grounding him, asking if he was alright. Or he’d look up from across the room, abandoning whatever he was distracted with and meet Aziraphale’s eyes. Crowley would always just know from the look in his angel’s eyes, from the tight lines he held in his face. 
And then Crowley would just look at him and Aziraphale would look back. And oh the poetry he could wax about everything he sees in Crowley’s eyes. His brilliant, splendid eyes saying the most brilliant and splendid things. I see you and I understand and I love you and perhaps, most importantly, I forgave you a long time ago. It’s okay. You never have to ask.
Crowley’s giving him that look right now, saying all the right things without saying them. His lips twist up in a soft smile that lights up his entire face and Aziraphale feels like he’s about to float away with all the love in his chest lifting him up.
 Crowley rolls back onto his side, his face cupped by Aziraphale’s hand as it tenderly traces the edge of his mark. It stays there even as he turns toward Aziraphale’s round, soft belly and pushes the untucked clothing further up Aziraphale’s body. It rests precariously on the shelf of his stomach, exposing him to the musty air of the bookshop and Crowley’s sweeping gaze. His eyes are glazed over, half-lidded leaving Aziraphale waiting with bated breath.
Crowley has made it very clear to Aziraphale how much he appreciates the soft roundness of his angel’s corporation. Always kissing the swell of his cheeks and the folds in his neck, grabbing at his sides and hips. Aziraphale really hadn’t felt any inclinations either which way about the size and shape of his corporation over the last six thousand years or so; though, he had become rather sentimental after having it for so long. The same way one grows attached to a well-loved sweater. But being on the receiving end of all of Crowley’s reverent touches and constant praise certainly helped all those feelings along. And if it made Aziraphale feel more wanted and desirable, well no harm no foul.
Crowley releases his hold from around Aziraphale for a moment to grab hold of the hand covering his face, lacing their fingers together and slotting his bony fingers between the spaces of Aziraphale’s chubbier ones. His lips ghost over the generous give of the angel’s gut, starting from underside up the gentle slope until he reaches the edge of Aziraphale’s rucked up shirt. Then he makes his way across and then diagonal and eventually just anywhere he feels deserves more attention, slowly applying more pressure, lingering longer over each stretch of skin.
“You’re beautiful too, angel, so bloody beautiful. Wish you could see you the way I do,” he hums into Aziraphale’s tummy and sides and chest like he’s trying to tattoo the words there and Aziraphale is so overwhelmed by the brushing of lips against his bare skin that he can’t stop the long groan that escapes him. The urge to tug Crowley up, lose his hands in the long messy curls and just kiss every single freckle painted on the demon’s cheeks and forehead, wrists and knuckles, shoulders and back is overpowering.
“Oh, my darling. My dear sweet boy. My love.” Aziraphale could go on for ages. He’d call Crowley every endearment he’d ever read, heard and wasted time thinking up until he was red in the face. Until the galaxy was swallowed by darkness and the stars went supernova and the universe imploded. Until there was absolutely no question about the depth of Aziraphale’s love for him. 
He would if he could, if he thought that they didn’t have time. He’d spend every moment making sure Crowley knew what he felt before they ran out. But that’s not the case. They have forever, infinity times infinity, and so he has the opportunity to take Crowley’s hand and led him into it. He doesn’t need to push him in and hope he knows how to swim. 
Maybe he would try anyway if he felt he had any control over the irresistible need, the want, to pull Crowley’s lithe, lean body flush with his own. But as it turns out, Aziraphale is easily tempted and when it comes to his demon, he truly doesn’t have that control. He very quickly finds himself hauling Crowley up off his lap and pressing their bodies so close together that they could create a vacuum. 
Their lips slot together and if the whole world didn’t already fall away every second they were together, it would now. All the tiny variations — the nuances of each individual moment, of every individual kiss — spark across the connected skin like neurons firing through the brain. Aziraphale can feel Crowley’s knees knocking into his hips on either side. He can feel Crowley’s eyelashes brushing against the skin just under his eyes. He feels that long skinny nose that poked him in the stomach earlier smushed against his cheek and he hears the sure rhythm of Crowley’s heady breathing echoing in his head. 
Both pairs of hands wander — touching and testing patches of naked skin and soothing over wrinkled shirts, clutching handfuls of curls — and lips are soon to follow. Aziraphale keeps the promise he made to himself and thoroughly enjoys pecking at the hundreds of constellations of freckles he’s left behind, his kisses. Each spot overlaid becomes a shade darker, shines brighter against the white background. When he’s gone over every one he can reach, he begins to create new ones — one under Crowley’s chin, in the center of his cupid’s bow, just to the right of his Adam’s Apple — and they bloom like flowers, petals pushing apart and ready to greet the sun.
Crowley waits for Aziraphale to finish indulging himself while happily occupying himself with the skin connecting his angel’s neck to his shoulder — kissing, nipping, soothing over the marks with his tongue, rinse and repeat — by working around and under the collar of his shirt. His hands skirt up outside of his angel’s thighs and creep over his hips in of search the abundant flesh waiting for him at his angel’s waist. Once he feels the lack of clothing separating his hands from Aziraphale, he latches on, squeezing in random intervals. There’s just something so satisfying about the way it crowds his spread palms and fills the emptiness between his fingers. Something that makes him think, Mine. This is finally mine. 
“Had your fill of me yet, angel?” Crowley teases lightly as Aziraphale finally sits back and looks Crowley in the eyes. His hands rub up and down Crowley’s back under his shirt.
“Not in a million years, my love.” Aziraphale places a final kiss on the tip of Crowley’s nose. The demon’s face scrunches up a bit in an attempt to cover up an utterly besotted grin, but he can’t quite manage. 
“Got a reputation to uphold, you know.” Crowley says very seriously before wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and laying his head against his shoulder.
“I do know. Quite important, this reputation business. Perhaps we ought to refrain from such activities in the future. For the sake of your reputation, of course.” The audible smirk in Aziraphale’s tone is unbearable.
“Bastard. Don’t even joke about that,” Crowley growls, worming his way around his angel’s shirt to carve out his own section of bare shoulder, smacking it with a kiss which makes Aziraphale giggle at the sound and sensation.
“Well, then. I think we ought to head up to bed, don’t you? We’ve done quite enough sitting in the dark. I think I’d rather enjoy a bit of light reading.” Before Crowley can come up with a response, Aziraphale is standing up from the couch and lifting Crowley with him. He decides a contented hum and lazily wrapping his legs around his angel’s hips will do nicely instead.
Aziraphale’s socked feet make a muted thumping noise as he ascends the stairs to the flat above the shop. Soon enough, Aziraphale is using Crowley’s back to push the bedroom door open causing the demon to murmur some mild irritation and vague threat. He’s quite comfortable resting up against Aziraphale as he’s carried around though, much too comfortable to raise a real fuss.
That is, until he’s tossed onto their bed like a sack of potatoes, something like a oof! pushed out of him. He’s left cold on top of the covers while Aziraphale pretends to putter around the room, far too smug for his own good. 
And so Crowley remains there, cold and uncovered, purely out of spite. 
After changing into his pajamas, (a hideous set of mis-matching tartan, or so Crowley seemed inclined to voice on multiple occasions. Aziraphale finds them both stylish and comfortable) Aziraphale stands at the edge of the bed, tutting at Crowley’s behavior. 
“Come now, Crowley. Get changed and budge over.” Crowley fixes him with a glare that lasts all of five seconds before he’s snapping his fingers — clothes changed and eyeliner removed — and rolls over to his side of the bed. He pulls down the covers on his side, flopping down onto his pillow, hair a fiery blaze behind him. Aziraphale does likewise and scoots into his spot, wiggling around to get comfortable. Crowley watches on with unfiltered glee.
He continues to watch his angel closely as he clicks on the lamp beside him and peels back the cover of some hundred-year-old Dickinson collection, his reading glasses having appeared on the bridge of his nose at one point or another. Eventually, Aziraphale looks over at Crowley, feeling his eyes on him.
“Yes, dear?”
“I love you,” he blurts out. “I love you with all your moldy books and useless glasses and your ridiculous lovely body. I love all of it.” Aziraphale smiles brilliantly and the room is suddenly much brighter. Crowley could swear celestial light is leaking from Aziraphale’s pores and shining from behind his eyes.
“And I love you with your reckless driving and your useless glasses and your pointy nose, knees and toes, elbows and ankles. I love every last piece of you, mitting.” (This was one of those phrases that Aziraphale had sat on for quite a while before he finally had a chance to put it to use.)
Aziraphale lifts an arm for Crowley and he’s immediately curled up against the angel’s side, arms stretching across the long expansive of the angel’s belly while leaving space for the book to balance against Aziraphale’s chest. Legs twist together hidden beneath the blankets and toes wriggle about in cozy socks. Crowley rubs his leg up against Aziraphale’s, pushing up the pant legs of both their pajama bottoms.
It’s not long before Crowley falls asleep still tucked under Aziraphale’s arm and eventually, the angel decides it would be best to get some sleep himself. He places the book on top of his nightstand, not bothering to mark the page, and miracles the lights out. Gingerly, he moves his arm out from around Crowley and instead, manages to sneak his palm under Crowley’s head while the other arm pulls Crowley in closer, tucking his head beneath Aziraphale’s chin. He allows himself a brief moment of appreciation, brushing his fingertips over the flat plane of Crowley back.
“Until the morning,” he whispers into Crowley’s hair. He finally starts to drift off while watching the shadow of each snowflake tumble across the top of the duvet.
The now silent world within the bookshop remains so until daybreak, the night’s snow a puddle on the sidewalk and the flakes’ shadows replaced with a combination of orange, red, and gold light.
Until a red-headed demon slowly wakes in the early morning light to the soft, vulnerable skin of an angel’s throat pressing into his cheek. He’ll lay there for a long time, basking in the morning light and the happiness he feels in that moment with the knowledge that he’ll have that feeling many, many times in the distant, and not so distant, future.
Then he’ll clamber out of bed, trying not to wake the sleeping angel, to start making breakfast in a dusty, outdated kitchen. 
Until the angel will wake to find a vacant spot next to him, still warm. He too will get up from bed, though with far more coordination and less flailing of limbs. He’ll enter the kitchen and wrap his arms around the demon’s waist and inquire as to just what it is the demon is making.
“Nothing good with this kitchen, angel. Some bloody hedonist you are. Can’t even maintain a proper kitchen to make your own food.”
“Now, now, if you’re going to be that way, maybe I’ll just go to dinner without you tonight.” The demon will grumble and mumble but refrains from any further comment. The angel will force the demon to turn his head and offer a kiss as payment for the meal that will no doubt turn out very delicious. He accepts, of course.
Until that night when it starts snowing as the two walk home from dinner, the temperature dropping to temperatures much too cold for a fussy angel and his serpent. So the night ends much the same way it did previously: with the soft glow of the space heater in the corner where there once was a fireplace and curious moonbeams scampering across the floor. 
It ends with an angel and a demon so absolutely besides themselves with kindness and hope and love that they forgot what the cold feels like.
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kadywicker · 5 years
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okay but let's talk about the crowley-and-his-siblings thing you mentioned in your tags? because i read that and i went "oh!" and now i need some content.
GOD I love crowley as raphael and the archangels as his siblings it's such a good dynamic. it kills me. especially pre-fall when it's just them and god before the rest of the angels. I've written two whole fanfics w this concept (well. in the second, that section was all ronan but still). when they were just creating things and things were good. and I'm always partial to crowley and lucifer as twins and the eldest which! I did first thank u it was me and @torsamors 's galaxy brain and now it's a Thing and I'd like to say I'm so glad yall Understand.
and crowley loving his siblings but he doesn't understand them he doesn't understand their mother either and he thinks lucifer is the only one that'll listen to his questions without shooting him down and of course they end up falling. the siblings left- the dynamic falls apart and it's never the same. stilted and cold. and their mother stops talking. and then don't even get me started on crowley and lucifer bc I will absolutely scream I wrote 6k words on it but basically crowley still loves him but he can't condone.... whatever it is that's going on there and lucifer has a soft spot for his brother but by the apocalypse his patience has worn thin and that can't protect crowley anymore.
and it's mostly about found family too bc the archangels haven't been much of a family at all and neither has lucifer and especially god who hasn't talked to him since his fall but he's found his family in aziraphale and that's what counts. that's all he needs. who doesn't scorn his questions or his goodness. who just. loves him for him. he doesn't have to change for him.
ANYWAY. I have feelings. about crowley and his siblings in this hc.
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vanxcks · 5 years
Text
fic announcement
title: you don’t know what it means to me
summary: It’s a hurried affair, all around. Not nearly as grand as anything from one of Aziraphale’s books, but he can’t be thinking about dramatics—that’s Crowley’s department. Flourishes, sunglasses, meanings hidden behind words—all Crowley’s thing, not Aziraphale’s. And Aziraphale has been thinking a lot about that, actually. About Crowley.
OR, Aziraphale has something very important to say.
tags: Ficlet, One Shot, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Angst, Declarations Of Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Aziraphale is a mess, First Kiss, i wrote this for me but yall can have it i guess, i love them a lot, idk if this counts as angst but we're going for it
word count: 1125
Read on AO3 (link in notes) or below the cut:
It’s a hurried affair, all around. Not nearly as grand as anything from one of Aziraphale’s books, but he can’t be thinking about dramatics—that’s Crowley’s department. Flourishes, sunglasses, meanings hidden behind words—all Crowley’s thing, not Aziraphale’s. And Aziraphale has been thinking a lot about that, actually. About Crowley. Especially since that week where they thought the world was ending.
There were many things that Crowley had not said, or that he’d said in disguise: words he’d hidden behind other words. Aziraphale had called him a wily serpent, and he really was one. So much of what Crowley said meant something else.
Or sometimes, he’d say things outright, and Aziraphale would dismiss them. He’s noticing that now. We can go off together. We’re on our own side. I lost my best friend. Aziraphale had never listened. But now he does.
As Aziraphale exits the elevator of Crowley’s apartment building and steps onto his floor, he thinks of that one night in 1945, in the ruins of a British church. A bag of books. Something so inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things, in the whole ineffable plan. But it meant so much. Aziraphale is learning about that, too. How much the small things can mean. A drink on a rainy afternoon. A book, returned to him. Shelter from the rain. Trust. They mean nothing in the grand scale of things, but they mean oh so much in the moment. What a human thing, small moments. Aziraphale loves them.
“Angel,” Crowley says, upon opening the door. He’s wearing the same suit as usual, the same skinny jeans, and his hair is tall and tousled as it always is. Aziraphale beams. He wonders sometimes if, when Crowley calls him that, he means angel and not Angel. If it’s a human pet name and not a title. If there even is a difference. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I have something rather important to tell you, Crowley,” Aziraphale says brightly. He shouldn’t be so confident—it’s a terrifying task, when he steps back and looks at it. But he’s never been so sure of anything in his life.
“Do you...want to come in?” Crowley asks, doing that thing where he scrunches up his nose a little and raises his eyebrows. It just makes Aziraphale smile more. “How did you find my address?”
“The internet. Can you believe it?”
“Wow, Aziraphale, using the internet. You’re finally catching up with the ages.”
“It was delightful. So much information you can find, with just a click of a button.” He giggles, and Crowley raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah...Look, I haven’t got any tea, but I’ve got a couple bottles of brandy in the back that I could bring out—”
“I think I love you, Crowley.” And that’s that.
There’s a pause.
This was what Aziraphale had come here to say. He hadn’t been sure, not really, not for the past six thousand years. Or he hadn’t been sure that he was sure (oh, dear, now he’s getting himself all muddled up.) Now, looking back at everything, it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“But, I—” Crowley says, as Aziraphale beams at him. “I—you said it, we’re enemies. I mean, I’m a demon, you’re an angel. How—”
“I don’t know how. Honestly, I was quite surprised myself.”
“But—you said we weren’t friends. You said you wouldn’t run away with me. I don’t—I don’t know what to say.” Crowley is flustered, clearly. His speech is speeding up and slurring slightly, and for the first time, Aziraphale feels a little spark of worry. He’d thought Crowley had been expecting this, that he reciprocated the feelings, even. All those little things—saving the books, saving Aziraphale’s life, too many times to count. Seeking him out, over and over again. Asking him to run away. Aziraphale had spent so long not noticing, refusing to notice, because he didn’t want to get tempted into anything by his nemesis. He’d told himself for years that it was nothing, that it was just a trick. But he knows now. Aziraphale has tried to turn him away so many times, but he’s always been there. But does he know, really? Crowley’s words make him rethink things. Aziraphale thought it was because of something more than friendship, but maybe that was all it was. Something to pass the time before Crowley went on his wicked way.
Oh, good God, no. What have I done?
“Oh, dear, I have made a mess of things, haven’t I?” Aziraphale says, and he feels the smile slide off his face. “I’m so very sorry, I thought—I thought something, I don’t know.” He fumbles with the doorknob a little as he tries to turn and leave, but it’s locked. “I should be going. Now, I should be going now. I would be oh so happy if you could forget about this,” he says, and brushes something away from his eye. Damn it, Aziraphale. Damn it. The one good thing in your life—the one good thing you have left, and you have to ruin it. Of course you do. He desperately wants things to be normal, for this not to ruin anything. “Are we still on for dinner at the Ritz? I might be a bit late, I have a client—Crowley, could you open this door for me?” He asks, because he’s rambling, he knows he is. He just can’t help it, though. How could he have gotten things so mixed up?
Aziraphale turns around to see Crowley leaning backward on the table, sort of sitting but sort of not. He’s staring at Aziraphale in silence, and there’s something in his eyes that tugs on Aziraphale’s heart. “Crowley?”
“Oh, dammit, Angel,” Crowley says, his voice a low growl, and he steps forward, takes Aziraphale’s face in his hands, and kisses him. Once, light, as soft as—Aziraphale doesn’t know what. It’s summery and charming and beautiful and it makes Aziraphale feel like flowers are blooming in his chest. When Aziraphale pulls away, Crowley’s eyes are gleaming and wet, but not in a sad way. No, not in a sad way at all.
“Wait, wait—does this mean—” Aziraphale asks, quietly. Crowley cuts him off.
“For God’s sake, Aziraphale—oh, Satan, I can’t believe I just said that,” he says, scrunching up his face like there’s a bad taste in his mouth.
“Crowley, please,” Aziraphale says, and there’s none of the normal exasperation in his voice.
“Yes, damn it, Aziraphale, I do love you.” And there’s something in his expression that feels like a string wound tight on his heart. It burns, but it’s wonderful.
“Oh.” Aziraphale nods quickly, smiles. “Splendid.” And he pulls Crowley back in.
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Good Omens:A First Foray
The First Impressions of a Viewer with No Context
I knew a good chunk of the plot because at first I honestly wasn't going to watch it, so I didn't really shield myself from any spoilers on tumblr.
That being said, I was hooked right from episode 1. I went into it thinking I was gonna be all over Crowley (given my other favourite characters in most other franchises) but the first time Aziraphale smiled I M E L T E D. SO PURE AND SWEET Also when "Aziraphale" was said I had a moment of 'oh. that's how you say that' Also the earth and my mom share a birthday. When Nanny Ashtoreth showed up I KNEW I was gonna need more content of her. Wife 100%
The fact that, try as they may, Zira and Crowley are completely incompetent and really only matter in the last like 16 minutes before the end of the world is really great. It's like watching a show that's about the really interesting side characters you get to see for 2 minutes and WISH you got 6 hrs of. Thank you, Neil.
Ep 2 we get to meet Newt and Anathema and omg I love them. I need Anathemas wardrobe ugh. And newt??? disaster Newton Pulsifer??? he's a mood. Not totally sure how I feel about their relationship but I love the contrast of "hey we just met like an hour ago and we're dating now thnks" to "we've known each other for 6000 years but there's no way he likes me the same way? side note, isn't it funny how the world is always emitting a low buzz of love my dear?" "ngk"
Agnes is amazing and I love how sassy she is. 10/10. I love how Aziraphale is not at ALL concerned about being shoved against a wall by Crowley. Like not one bit. He's like "oh finally, it's only taken you 6 millenia" honestly same
Ep 3 gives us the 30 minute cold open who's only purpose is to show how these two kept coming back to each other for 6 millenia, no matter how the last meeting may have gone. Here are a few thoughts:
Crowley has very pretty hair. Also I could 100% see by this point how these two have been gay for each other since day 1. Er rather day 7? Golgotha Crowley is v pretty and learning later that those are traditionally female garments was a treat. That scene was otherwise hard to watch, and they definitely thought so as well. The globe theatre was really fun to watch, I love Shakespeare. Sadly, Hamlet reminds me of my awful 10th grade English teacher. she ADORES that play. So thanks,  Aziraphale.
Bastille= PEAK GAY LOOK
I'd seen the church scene and "you go too fast for for me in MANY a gift,  but hearing them was OOF. Michael Sheen didn't have to go so hard on that line but OH BOY DID HE EVER. I may have cried.
I honestly didn't realize that the intro didn't play until the middle of the episode until I rewatched it??  like that completely flew over my head.
THE BANDSTAND. THE E M O T I O N. AZIRAPHALE WAS SO HURT. he was so torn because so much of him still wanted to believe in the good of heaven, but his heart (or the angelic equivalent) had long ago sided with Crowley. When Crowley came back and asked him to run away to Alpha Centuri??? UGH. that dude instantly assuming they're gay? same. same random dude. same. And omg Crowley praying??? to God??? he cares about humanity and it SHOWS. By this point I was REALLY relating to Aziraphale. His reluctance to stray from what he knows and was told reminds me so much of myself. that A n x i e t y.
the end of episode 4 and into episode 5 HURT. the bookshop? "I lost my best friend"? The fact that Crowley was ready to give up and wallow drunkenly through the Apocalypse because continuing on or running away held no meaning if he didn't have Aziraphale by his side. I cried. On the other hand, defiant Aziraphale? "Angels can't posses people" "Demons can..." YES BBY STOP BLINDLY FOLLOWING ORDERS!!! FREE THOUGHT BABEY!!! Now: Shadwell and Tracy. Shadwell is hilarious and I love him, end of story. He's just so... out there. crazy dude. Madame Tracy on the other hand? AMAZING. her actress (I can't think of her name and I have a REALLY ONE TRACK MIND) absolutely KILLED it. AMAZING. The seance?  That dude who WAS JUST LOVING EVERY SECOND? Loved that so much. still cracks me up. When they first get to the airbase and Crowley compliments his dress and Aziraphales like OwO like fellas they gay.
1970s crowley... the mustache... "Can I hear a Wahoo?" Hastur... love him... "What's a computer" part of me wants to think he's just fucking with Crowley because who wouldn't but also he's so deadpan and yo I can't read expression AT ALL.
Love the fact that Crowley was ready to yeet off to a far off star system light-years away, but at the same times like "you expect me... to go to TADFIELD? In this weather??? Maybe I should drive but I mean, have you SEEN the TRAFFIC Angel? And now the M-25s on fire. Great."
Hastur going from on top of everything and tearing Crowley down to panicking because YOU'RE DRIVING TOWARDS A WALL OF FIRE.
snek eyes :3c
"Young man your CAR is on F I R E"
ALSO the horse people getting lost is peak entertainment. Honestly the horsepeople are great. War? Gorgeous. Famine? Love him. He's got style Pollution??? They're amazing, and also THEY THEM PRONOUNS BABEY. that made me v happy bc I just got used to usin em myself uwu. D E A T H. He knows his aesthetic yall. love it.
suppose nows a good a time as any: THE THEM.
I didn't really like Adam at first, he seemed a bit snobby. he's grown on me now but... ngk. Wenslydale was an instant fave. he's adorable. love him. Brian? total mess. super genuine. Great kid. PEPPER. she's great. she's sassy. she's gonna go far in life. all together, they're a tight knit group and I love them and they're all my children now thabks. and the parallels to the horsepeople? p e r f e c t
Alrighty Episode 6!!!
The beginning terrified me. All this time I was rooting for Zira and Crowley to finally get their happily ever after and yknow how most media is nowadays. There's a reason Fix-it Fics are so popular. So the beginning of the episode scared me. Also Beelzebub 💖
I love the Them vs The Horsepeople. "I believe in Peace, bitch."
I didn't even realize til later that that was Aziraphales sword. didn't even catch that line.
When Beez and Gabriel showed up? THAT DUMB SMILE OF GABES? I really hated Gabriel. The way he treated Aziraphale REALLY rubbed me the wrong way and I just did not like him one bit.
W I N G S. PRETTY WINGS. also didn't even realize that what Crowley did was STOP TIME. LIKE WHSOHDOEBE WHaT? ??
 "it burned down... remember?" uuggghhh kill me with how soft and gentle he's being!!! he knows that bookshop MEANT something to Zira hdoehekdn
T H E B O D Y  S W A P
the caught me COMPLETELY off guard... at first. I was completely unaware right up until "crowley" was attacked. I caught that little "Tickety boo" and I paused screaming like CROWLEY WOULD NOT SAY THAT IN THAT SCENARIO NO WAY THAT IS N O T ANTHONY J CROWLEY W H A T 
The heaven scene solidified my then hatred for Gabriel. I like him now but oof that scene he's still VERY punchable.
Crowley: Nearly threw hands with the Archangel Gabriel
The Hell trial. So Extra. Asking for a rubber duck? iconic! "Michael, dude!" oh mood.
when they switch back and it's all revealed? G l o r i o u s. They played each other so well!!! honestly props to Michael and David, their acting was PHENOMENAL.
The ending. A happy ending. The amount of love with which Zira says "to the world" killed me. I'm dead now thanks to that. I'm typing this from the grave,  that's how powerful that line is. Honestly, knowing next to nothing going in was kind of wild and my crazy reblogging spree actually got some of my mutuals to watch the show which is pretty neat. Going back through 3 more times now, Aziraphale definitely resonates with me the most. I actually have a small blurb I wrote on the positive effects he's had on my perception of myself in terms of stimming.
All in All this show hit me in a way I did NOT expect it to, and I'm glad I found it when I did. I was at a point where I was kinda feeling like I'd never really have a fulfilling relationship because of my asexuality, and then I found good omens. I def read the characters as ace while watching it and it was amazing seeing two characters who can love each other fully, without the need for anything explicit. The show was an instant fav and I'm trying to find a physical copy of the book (that I can afford) so I can read the original text. This is a story that's going to stay important to me for a very long time, I can feel it.
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ao3feed-goodomens · 5 years
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read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33VXqRT
by idk_man_I_just_work_here
He’s stopped paying attention to exactly what Aziraphale is saying minutes ago, too distracted by the muted motions of his hands. He does his best to maintain eye contact, but he can only control himself for so long. His eyes inevitably drift to the crinkles around Aziraphale’s eyes, the strong bridge of his nose, his sleepy smile, the seam of his lips lightly stained by the burgundy liquor. He loves nights like these. Both not quite drunk, just a touch tipsy, flushed in the cheeks and a little too earnest. Just enough to chip away at the walls of inhibition.
Words: 2281, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, i'm back after 5 months of silence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Crowley-centric (Good Omens), yall wanna read something PAINFULLY tender??, can you tell this is a thinly veiled cry for physical and emotional intimacy????, this is a concept i've seen played with but never delved into as far as would've liked to see, and you know how fics are, you gotta write the fics you wish to see in the world, i wrote this bc a friend of mine and i did a writing prompt together, where we described each other as though we were characters in books, so if my dear friend stumbles upon this fic my secret account will have been discovered, and they will know it was me, so if you found this Rose it is a gift to you that i am too nervous to send directly!, and i have instead opted to toss it to the winds of fate, thank you for getting me out of my writer's block, oh and i almost forgot!, this fic isn't nsfw but crowley is a BOTTOM i will die on this hill, and i think i did an okay job portraying it in an sfw way, crowley is an anxious mess, if you show him one (1) ounce of attention he will melt into a puddle of love, ok i'm done rambling now please enjoy the fic :), oh one last thing, i wrote most of this while listening to Let Go by Young Beau Prince on repeat, so do with that information what you will, now i'm done :)
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33VXqRT
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by idk_man_I_just_work_here
He’s stopped paying attention to exactly what Aziraphale is saying minutes ago, too distracted by the muted motions of his hands. He does his best to maintain eye contact, but he can only control himself for so long. His eyes inevitably drift to the crinkles around Aziraphale’s eyes, the strong bridge of his nose, his sleepy smile, the seam of his lips lightly stained by the burgundy liquor. He loves nights like these. Both not quite drunk, just a touch tipsy, flushed in the cheeks and a little too earnest. Just enough to chip away at the walls of inhibition.
Words: 2281, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, i'm back after 5 months of silence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Crowley-centric (Good Omens), yall wanna read something PAINFULLY tender??, can you tell this is a thinly veiled cry for physical and emotional intimacy????, this is a concept i've seen played with but never delved into as far as would've liked to see, and you know how fics are, you gotta write the fics you wish to see in the world, i wrote this bc a friend of mine and i did a writing prompt together, where we described each other as though we were characters in books, so if my dear friend stumbles upon this fic my secret account will have been discovered, and they will know it was me, so if you found this Rose it is a gift to you that i am too nervous to send directly!, and i have instead opted to toss it to the winds of fate, thank you for getting me out of my writer's block, oh and i almost forgot!, this fic isn't nsfw but crowley is a BOTTOM i will die on this hill, and i think i did an okay job portraying it in an sfw way, crowley is an anxious mess, if you show him one (1) ounce of attention he will melt into a puddle of love, ok i'm done rambling now please enjoy the fic :), oh one last thing, i wrote most of this while listening to Let Go by Young Beau Prince on repeat, so do with that information what you will, now i'm done :)
source http://archiveofourown.org/works/20373112
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ao3feed-crowley · 5 years
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Soft
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33VXqRT
by idk_man_I_just_work_here
He’s stopped paying attention to exactly what Aziraphale is saying minutes ago, too distracted by the muted motions of his hands. He does his best to maintain eye contact, but he can only control himself for so long. His eyes inevitably drift to the crinkles around Aziraphale’s eyes, the strong bridge of his nose, his sleepy smile, the seam of his lips lightly stained by the burgundy liquor. He loves nights like these. Both not quite drunk, just a touch tipsy, flushed in the cheeks and a little too earnest. Just enough to chip away at the walls of inhibition.
Words: 2281, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, i'm back after 5 months of silence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Crowley-centric (Good Omens), yall wanna read something PAINFULLY tender??, can you tell this is a thinly veiled cry for physical and emotional intimacy????, this is a concept i've seen played with but never delved into as far as would've liked to see, and you know how fics are, you gotta write the fics you wish to see in the world, i wrote this bc a friend of mine and i did a writing prompt together, where we described each other as though we were characters in books, so if my dear friend stumbles upon this fic my secret account will have been discovered, and they will know it was me, so if you found this Rose it is a gift to you that i am too nervous to send directly!, and i have instead opted to toss it to the winds of fate, thank you for getting me out of my writer's block, oh and i almost forgot!, this fic isn't nsfw but crowley is a BOTTOM i will die on this hill, and i think i did an okay job portraying it in an sfw way, crowley is an anxious mess, if you show him one (1) ounce of attention he will melt into a puddle of love, ok i'm done rambling now please enjoy the fic :), oh one last thing, i wrote most of this while listening to Let Go by Young Beau Prince on repeat, so do with that information what you will, now i'm done :)
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33VXqRT
0 notes