#a literal 6000 years of pining

[nartml]

"Is it a slowburn?"

Slowburn? Slowburn? Bitch they INVENTED the sport

[cottoncandysprite]

Happy to say that I am back in my "every time I remember the ineffable husbands exist I have to sit down for a second" mindset

[skydoescrime]

sudden rainstorm.... forcing them together..... under a canopy..... looking into each others eyes,,,, realizing they were made for each other.

now why does this sound familiar.....

[berniewolfes]

i'd like to say i don't understand how crowley could miss a move as obvious as aziraphale's 😉 there must be something i can do for you in return 😉 in the car while they're driving through the blitz, but actually once i was driving a girl home (not through the blitz) and she talked the whole time about how she'd been recently thinking about dating girls but was nervous that she'd never kissed a girl. and then when i parked outside of her house to drop her off she paused for a very long time before even taking off her seat belt and then looked at me real shy and Tucked Her Hair Behind Her Ear, and i was like okay byee! and i was more than half way home before i was like OOHHHHHHH fuck.

anyway all this to say, people may think crowley was dumb for that, and he was (and i was) but he's also just a girlie out here trying his best. im sure on the drive home post candle-lit wine date that night he too was like, 'oh he was COMING ON TO ME'. and then he had to contemplate that for the next 80 or so years.

[ghost-on-a-string]

cosmo, wanda, i wish that the good omens season 2 finale didn't happen

[suzypfonne]

When they finally get a chance to kiss unbothered and unburdened they aren’t going to stop for days, 6000 years of pent up energy, and technically not needing oxygen makes for an intense make-out session

[thebestfriendstoloverstrope]

not to get too personal but i just need to vent. there's this guy and he and i are starting a relationship (we kissed for the first time last night) and i'm just. the anxiety is through the roof. i haven't dated anyone in 8 years and i still don't know if i'm ready to. i don't know if i just need time or if i'm genuinely not into him? it's hard being demisexual (maybe even demiromantic? i don't feel anything romantic toward him yet, which is weird bc i really like him as a person. is the heteronormativity getting to me?) and getting into a relationship so fast. i could see us slowly becoming a thing but i was hoping it would take us at least a whole extra month before we got there instead of literally making out on the second date 😅 (we're classmates in our grad program, so we've seen each other a lot since august, so it's not like he's a total stranger). i don't know if i should push past the uncertainty and just go with it? bc i do really like him as a friend right now. and we flirt a lot. so, like, i do think i'd be into him eventually? i'm just. he held my hand last night and i was fine with that and then later i asked him what this was and we were close and then he kissed me and i just went with it bc i didn't want to have to deal with breaking the moment. and maybe that's my bad. but i'm so out of my element and i don't know what to do and i'm just. i'm spiraling lol

[whyhereiam]

*warning for all capital letters and spoiler for Good Omens season 2*

OK SO K CAME BACK TO TUMBLR AFTER MONTHS TO SHOUT INTO THE VOID ABOUT GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 (LIKE IVE BEEN DOING FOR THE LAST HOUR BUT IN SCRIPT BC I WANT TO KNOW SOMEONE WILL READ THIS AND MY FEELINGS) SO YEAH - JUST KNOW THAT *IF* I COULD MAKE BIGGER CAPITAL LETTERS I WOULD

I AM *SCREAMING* AT CROWLEY, DAVID TENNANT, MICHEAL SHEEN, ALL SHOW PEOPLE ETC ETC FOR NOT STOPPING GAIMAN FROM WRITING THE ENDING (BUT MOSTLY IM SCREAMING AT AZIRAPHALE FOR STILL BELIEVING IN PEOPLE THAT HAVE HARMED YOU YOU SWEET ANGEL WITH HALF A F*CKING BRAINCELL *HOW* HAVE YOU NOT GONE TO THERAPY PLS YOU NEED IT, LOVE)

I- *coughs* I PAUSED THE ENTIRE SECOND HALF OF THE LAST EPISODE EVERY 3 SECONDS AND I KID YOU NOT WHEN I SAY I WAS SCREAMING THIS AND MORE INTO THE VOID THAT IS MY APARTMENT (and unfortunate next-door neighbours seeing as I have also thrown pillows and books at the walls) AND WHEN I SAY IT TOOK ME ABOUT TWO WHOLE HOURS TO GET THROUGH 20 MINUTES OF SCREEN TIME😭😭😭😭😭

I- Im angry, sad, angry, more sad, and just- idk how to express it but oh my god what a rollercoaster this has been🥲 if there’s not a season 3 I swear to everything that exists in (and outside) this universe that I will pay for a plane ticket and fly to wherever the one who’s in charge of shit like this at Amazon Prime and thoroughly convince them over a fika why there needs to be a season 3 of Good Omens :)

To summarise season 2:

I love it. I hate it. I think the characters actions make sense (hence I love it) and the result of those actions also make sense (hence I hate it).

I also so badly need a season three and fanfics to cure whatever the fuck Gaiman has done to me and the collective fandom :D

I liked all the ’footnotes’ and the rest of the season though so there’s that

[thethingswedotomorrow]

Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

*Please note the use of guy yuri is in reference to the Ineffable Husbands presenting as men most of the time, I'm not trying to erase they're both canonically nonbinary.

Propaganda:

For Bingqiu: "One is a housewife and the other is a trophy wife. They both want to be each other's wife so bad (even though Shen Qingqiu would never admit it)"

"Where do I even start... Housewife x trophy wife. Every gender havers. Shen Qingqiu can't decide if he himself is wife or mommy, but is convinced his husband is a delicate lovesick maiden. Luo Binghe has self-assigned himself all of the wifely duties of an ancient Chinese wife years before Shen Qingqiu has become remotely aware of his crush. Also later in the novel he acts like a jealous girlfriend. And specifically girlfriend, like it was an important part of his arc that he stopped acting like a jealous boyfriend and started acting like a jealous girlfriend instead. This has won him his man."

"They're insane, fucking unhinged"

For Ineffable Husbands: "Well due to neil mentioning that they was plans for a fem presenting 1960s scene of the two of them that never ended up happening, there's a lot of fanart of that. Plus, they are an angel and a demon, and both technically don't follow the gender rules of humans and many other species on earth, so while they do present very masculine throughout the show, they could be any gender and therefore they seem very fitting for this.(I do apologize as I don't quite understand what guy Yuri is despite your definition so I am guessing and have no clue if they count."

"Looks like m/m on first glance but they don't actually really have gender and Crowley dresses as a woman for a good few years canonically"

"theyre male presenting in the show but they dont really have gender so they could be wlw if they wanted to"

"While both characters spend most of their time presenting as male, they are supernatural beings without any real sex or gender. Crowley appears as a woman multiple times, and one scrapped scene included both Aziriphale and Crowley as women in the 1960s. Additionally, it’s very common to find “Ineffable Wives” fanworks, with both characters appearing as women. As well as having been an immensely popular fandom ship for many years, it has been confirmed that Aziriphale and Crowley are canonically in love with each other."

"Regularly turned into women in fanart. Both Aziraphale and Crowley are incredibly gender. They have been together in some sort of way for 6000 years. Heavy yearning. Cringefail. Divorced and married at the same time. Literally an angel and a demon. What more could you want?"

"theyre literally genderless and can be anything ever!!!"

"Their genders are ineffable and they have hopelessly pined for centuries"

[thealogie]

We were like “wow crowley was clearly taken with aziraphale from that first meeting he’s been pining for 6000 years!! literally doing everything for aziraphale when aziraphale won’t even allow himself to say they are friends” and they were truly like “guess again. It’s been longer than 6000 years and aziraphale was into crowley first when crowley barely registered him”….thanks I’m trembling like a little chihuahua

[queer-reader-07]

i don’t think enough of us talk about how absolutely fucking bonkers it is that aziraphale and crowley have just existed on earth for 6000 years and have been falling in love the whole time

you know we talk abt the “slowest of slow burns” and the “6000 years of pining came to fruition”

but actually take a step back and think about how long 6000 years is. imagine living through literally every single major change and advancement in the human story. imagine witnessing humanity grow and change for their entire existence. we’re talking literally before the invention of written language to the present day.

and all while falling in love with the one constant.

aziraphale and crowley have only ever had each other for it all. the people are blips in their eternal lives, they can’t get attached because it will only end poorly for them. but they have each other and they’ve always had each other and of course they’re falling in love how could you not?

and now? they don’t have that constant. they’re apart in a very real and (to them) permanent way. that’s gotta hurt so badly.

[mrscakeishere]

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Beta Reviews!

“I just passed the sausages!”

“Omg it really was chipboard!”

“I can't believe you. I just can't.”

Polycakes (me and Polychrome, aka @polychromicron-persei-8) here, proudly hurling the first fanfic grenade in the @goodomensafterdark Smut War with The Long Road To Meatballs (rated Explicit, 4786 words).

Summary and excerpt below!

NSFW CW: light BDSM, butt plugs, oral sex, penis inflation (not in excerpt but on AO3)

The Long Road to Meatballs

After an unfortunate miscommunication regarding the lack of spice in their lives, Aziraphale and Crowley seek out IKEA’s new intimate playroom products for the South Downs cottage. When their purchase—and all 279+ parts—proves too difficult to assemble, Aziraphale and Crowley take matters into their own hands (literally). It's the IKEA comedy smut you never knew you wanted but can't live without.

IKEA had evolved a great deal over the decades, as had Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. The Swedish furniture and furnishings company—in a debatably misguided and belated attempt to be a part of the sex-positivity movement—had developed designs for one’s personal intimate playroom, including the TRÄLDOM, BOTÖVNING, and FLATHET series. In addition, the Swedish designers had managed to produce products for each line that incorporated a not insignificant amount of chipboard.[1] This was quite a feat considering that most of the products listed should have been predominantly made of metal, leather, silicone, latex, or fur.[2]

As for Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship, it had evolved out of a 6000-year drama defined by mutual pining and pegged in by supernatural bureaucracy, into a satisfying pairing filled with safety, stability, and sex. Lovemaking had been glorious and intoxicating, and while it rarely verged into territory that could be considered truly “hedonistic,” both parties were quietly content in their newfound domesticity. But as we both know, dear reader, few things last forever.

And so it was on a mild Tuesday afternoon in the South Downs when an unfortunate exchange concerning Crowley’s cooking planted a seed of doubt in the demon's mind as to whether his angel was truly sexually satisfied.

[1] Note for Americans and other aliens: chipboard is the British term for particle board or low-density fibreboard. Regardless of the term, it is an unsuitable material for any type of sexual activity as it has the ability to absorb moisture like a sponge.

[2] This had led to IKEA ending up in litigation for five years over several regrettable incidents that had occurred with their compressed wooden dildo.

Continue reading on AO3 for Crowley and Aziraphale miscommunications, sex swing assembly complications, witty banter, dowels, sausage jokes, and some first-time sexual experiments: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52376542

Image by Polychrome.

[actual-changeling]

you can say what you want about lack of communication and crowley crossing his own boundaries again and again for aziraphale but like. i cannot blame him for a single second for playing house with jim/gabriel as their little toddler.

look at this. look at the smile aziraphale gives him after their combined miracle. there are literal tears of joy in his eyes and he sparkles brighter than the stars crowley literally hung in the sky.

mr. anthony "pining for 6000 years" janthony crowley took one look at his face and mentally resigned himself to signing fucking adoption papers for the archangel fucking gabriel

[saglaophonos]

the thing about good omens human aus is that nothing could be better than star-crossed lovers with 6000 years of pining and also the canonical justification to put aziraphale & crowley in literally any place and time in the world AND!!! and they have magic powers

[newtmas-supremxcy]

You asked for Dead Boy Detectives opinions so I'm here to speak my truth: I really don't want Edwin to stay in unrequited love with Charles forever, it would break my heart. If Payneland doesn't become canon I need Edwin to have an epic romance with someone else (idc if it's the Cat King, Monty or someone else) I just want him to be in a happy romantic relationship after so many years of repressing his sexuality.

I could not agree more I really hope edwin finds happiness with someone in the next season it was just so hard to watch him pine over charles but to be fair they do put some clear hints that charles is starting to realise his feelings (like how he puts his hand over his heart after he and edwin break away from their hug literally exactly paralleling how edwin did when he finally realised and accepted his feelings, additionally it also means he felt their hug in his heart but felt his and Crystal's kiss in his head plus the line where he says "she's a lot like you, maybe that's why I like her") so I do still have hope for payneland but then again the show was written by the same man who gave us a 6000+ yr slowburn in the form of innefeble husbands lol