#cottage bliss

[czitara]

With every new fanart of domestic aziracrow, I wonder how I'm ever supposed to find somebody if they inevitably will have to live up to THIS (and fail gloriously)

thinking about their peaceful morning in the cottage

[gleafer]

To make up for the possibly trauma I have caused with the ANGSTAGEDDON comic.

And They Lived Happily Ever After.

[ginasdiary]

so peaceful ✨

[demontobee]

If we don't get full Azicrow by S3 E5 at the latest, I will need yearly Christmas specials to give me all the domestic bliss I need. Just the two of them in the bookshop or their cottage in the South Downs, sitting in front of the fireplace, or cooking, or gardening, I don't care. Maybe investigating some minor mystery or reminiscing about all the Christmases they've spent together so far. Just saying.

[theriverspath]

Ineffable May 2024, Day 30: Us

Rated General Audience

“Would you care to join us for dinner tonight? Crowley’s grilling steaks, and I’ve convinced him to make his famous bread pudding. The whiskey sauce is simply divine!” There was a look of sudden contrition on Aziraphale’s face. He glanced up at Crowley and laid a hand on his arm. “Sorry, dear. I only meant…”

“It’s fine, angel.” Crowley smiled into grey-blue eyes, his heart still fluttering at the casual use of that little word, us. Would he ever get used to it? He laid his hand over Aziraphale’s, intertwining their fingers as he lowered it to the space between them. Behind dark glasses, he shifted his attention back to the woman unloading bags of soil and mulch from her shopping trolly onto the checkout counter.

“Well, who could say no to famous bread pudding?” Crowley chuckled at the amused twinkle in her eye as she replied to the invitation. Carol was one of his favourite village residents. Her wit was as sharp as his, and her devotion to whatever she loved showed both in her gardening and her marriage. “Eileen has Morgan this weekend. That ok?”

“Of course! I’ve got the next Hardy Boys ready for them.” Aziraphale had been delighted to discover that Carol and Eileen’s child was a voracious devourer of children’s detective stories. The two had instantly bonded over it, and the angel had surprised Crowley by lending the kid copies of some of his own.

“Great. I think they’ve read the one they have now three times. I’m sure they’re ready to talk your ear off about it.” Aziraphale beamed at the prospect.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.” Conversation dissolved into general chit-chat as first Carol, then Crowley, paid for their purchases. They parted ways in the garden centre’s car park, promising to see each other again that evening.

Once everything was piled into the back of the Bentley, Crowley held the passenger door for Aziraphale before settling himself into the driver’s seat. About half way back to the cottage, Crowley reached over and brought Aziraphale’s hand to his lips. He brushed a kiss across the knuckles before returning it to the angel’s lap.

“Thank you, but what was that for?” There was a soft smile in Aziraphale’s question.

“No reason. Just enjoying being us.”

-------

prompt list

[willdmallow]

Enchanted Ferns

[evabloom]

Dreamland 💛🤍✨

[crowleysaziraphale2003]

Here's another fic from my AO3! I'll also be posting non-GO writing soon! :)

This one is supposed to be silly and light hearted, if ever it comes off as insensitive, let me know. For the record, I hate the prison system, please know that 🤍

The silliness and playfulness is taken from my own, two and a half years long (so far), relationship. My partner got me into Good Omens, and I will always be grateful to him for that. He's also just the best tbh and I love him so much ❤️❤️❤️

CW for swearing, neck kissing (briefly) and brief NSFW implications (nothing happens nor is implied to happen, just some suggestive flirting).

Bon appetit! 🫶

Crowley and The Mysterious Case of The Disappearing Sunglasses

It was a sunny afternoon, and a certain demon and angel were peacefully gardening together. At least, until something rather weird happened.��

It had started out with a kiss. Aziraphale hadn't joined Crowley for while, instead opting to recline leisurely in a deckchair, sipping wine and reading. He would pause every now and then, to look up and inquire about Crowley's progress with the garden. That aside, they hadn't interacted until Aziraphale had brought his baking, alongside a glass of cooling lemonade, out to him on a tray. That's when Crowley had decided that perhaps, it was time for a well-earned rest. 

Instead of sitting on the chair next to Aziraphale's, he'd decided to sit on his lap. Not that Aziraphale was complaining. Not at all, unless kissing him had counted as complaining, anyway. The thing was, just before he'd kissed him, Aziraphale had removed Crowley's sunglasses, which he'd been wearing not to shield his emotions, but his eyes, from the glaring sun. This was not an uncommon occurrence; Aziraphale frequently removed Crowley's glasses before they kissed, if Crowley didn't do so himself. 

But this time, when they'd broken apart, the glasses had been nowhere in sight. The garden was officially a crime scene-the sunglasses had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

Aziraphale, former angel, was a key suspect in their sudden and mysterious disappearance. Given that he was of an unusual, unpredictable nature, Crowley had to resort to using a variety of investigation tactics. Tickles, first. This had only succeeded in getting them both breathless and slightly distracted. 

Time for a new tactic: holding his book hostage. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale had whined. "Give it back, now!" 

Crowley wasn't about to crack under the pressure. "Nah," he'd responded, with a cheeky grin. "Not until you tell me where the hell my sunglasses are! These are my only pair nowadays!" 

Aziraphale had raised an eyebrow at him in response. "Can't you miracle up or buy a new pair?"

"Nuh. Not allowed that many miracles since having retired, and there are no shops around here selling sunglasses.

Aziraphale frowned. "It's a tad odd that they don't sell them around here." 

Crowley stared at him as though he lacked brain cells. Which perhaps, in his own way, he did. "We're in bloody England! What do you expect!? Give me my sunglasses back!"

"Give me my book back!" Aziraphale pouted. 

"Nuh-uh!"

"I swear, Crowley-!"

"You started this!"

Aziraphale took a deep breath. "You give me no other choice," he replied, his face stoic. A sudden rain cloud appeared over Crowley's head, soaking him in seconds. Crowley gasped. 

"You bastard!" he said, throwing the book onto the porch. "Come here, you little shit!"

"Absolutely not!"

That's how they ended up chasing each other around the garden.

Ten minutes later, and they had stopped. Right. Time for yet another interrogation tactic. "Angel," Crowley purred into Aziraphale's ear, "if you give me my sunglasses back, I'm sure we can find another way to...unwind." 

Aziraphale blushed. "I know you, you wily old serpent. You're trying to tempt me to get me to give them back," he said, pausing. "It might work."  

Finally! 

Crowley sat on his lap and started to kiss Aziraphale's neck. "My angel," he murmured. "Look at you, you're gorgeous. So pretty, so good." 

The perpetrator cracked. "Fine," he admitted. His breathing was heavy, yet he didn't even need to breathe. That's how his interrogator could tell he'd got him. "Check your plants." 

Crowley fell off Aziraphale's lap. "What?!" he exclaimed. 

"Check your plants," Aziraphale repeated, smiling now like the deviant, the criminal, that he was. 

"Angel!" Crowley shouted, with no real maliciousness in his voice.

Right there, on his prized sunflower, the tallest one, sat his sunglasses. They must have been miracled on while they were kissing. The worst part of all? He hadn't even noticed. The next investigation, he decided, was going to be a murder investigation.

Aziraphale bolted indoors, Crowley hot on his trail. Oh, he would pay for this...

"No kisses for the rest of the day? Crowley, that is so unfair!"

"That's your sentence. You must serve it."

After a bit of tempting on Aziraphale's part, he was bailed out of his cruel sentence in less than an hour, with a strict warning to not do that ever again. He didn't re-offend, so Crowley decided he was reformed. Good. Couldn't be dealing with all that.

[sacralimplication]

[whispersfromthecottagegarden]

[unrealityliminal]

[wmiqaqueen]

[guardless]

[lunasilvis]

y'know.... in light of everything that can go wrong, has gone wrong or will someday go wrong... I am just grateful my main struggle rn is cow anatomy 🐄

[grelleswife]

Hannah tracing the freckles scattered across Grelle’s back and saying that she’s “drawing constellations” because a galaxy adorns the reaper’s skin. ❤️💜

[2sidesofthesamesoul]

honestly A Dangerous Game is just so iconic