#crowleys flat ass

[bunnykyu]

vavoom

[renem-art]

He will make sure you don’t go to heaven

Crowley's ass is flat because of the fall

[milfdeanwinchester]

I don't think we talk enough about the fact that crowley's ringtone for dean in season 8 finale is baby got back by thee sir mix-a-lot

[gemma-nye]

This has probably already been pointed out a million times and I don’t pretend to have a way with words but I’ll try:

One thing I love about good omens is the visual storytelling, and the way in which Aziraphale and Crowley approach interior decor provides an insight into the journey they take as characters.

Take Aziraphale’s bookshop, it couldn’t contrast more with the stark and soulless minimalism of Heaven, he loves clutter and mess and you can tell this space is a reflection of who he is as a person. The set design here shows that rebellion against heaven doesn’t just lie in doing evil and consorting with the enemy but also in appreciating and surrounding himself with the things that bring him joy.

Then there’s Crowley’s flat, this time a brutalist and spacious middle finger to the dark and dank corridors of hell. His appreciation of art and plants and light is reflected in this space and once again goes to show that rebellion really can be as simple as distancing himself from the looks and ideals of the place he has come from.

TL;DR the good omens set designers kick ass and I can’t wait to see more from them in series two

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Moments the boys fall in love with Yuu  

Romantic or platonic, mostly fluff, a little angst with comfort  

Ruggie Bucci, Jack Howl, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Rook Hunt  

Ruggie Bucci

Yuu had been helping Crowley with all sorts of paperwork this year, as she had taken on the apprenticeship under him for education. She was already doing most of it anyway, might as well get paid for it right? But it gave her access to a lot of information other people don’t.  

So when she found the grant and looked at the details, she knew she at least had to offer it.  

Yuu knows better than to pull Ruggie out of class, he hides it well, but it pisses him off. He can’t afford to get anymore behind than he already is compared to these rich bastards. So, she slips a note to the teacher to give to him to arrange a meeting in the next few days.  

It ends up being over dinner at Ramshackle a few days later, after a late shift at the Monstro Lounge, that she finally gets to talk to him.  

“So, you can tell me off, but I ain’t doing it out of pity or nothing,” she starts, pulling out a stack of papers. He cocks his head, starting to skim over the complex and small text. “Long story short, it’s a grant for schools under a certain income bracket to receive additional help, including a three-meal program. If you can convince instructors to continue using the building over breaks, you can even continue with meal program during the breaks so that the food comes around all year, all shipped in and paid for on the governments dime. It lasts around 5 years.”  

Ruggie’s ears are flat against his head, flipping through the pages. She gets the impression that he would have set his plate down if she hadn’t waited until he had scraped the pot clean.  

“NRC obviously makes too much in donations alone,” especially from the royal families, no nepotism rules her ass, “but if you could give me some more details about your place, I might be able to-” 

“Set up an actual school.”  

That makes her pause. There wasn’t...no.  

“I know you said that you learned from the hard knock school of life but...there’s nothing?” she asked. 

“Naw. So, this grant would guarantee that a school could stay and that the kids might actually attend, especially with the promise of food.”  

“Well, I’ll need to find the forms for that, but I'm sure it's doable, especially if I can make a good case. It was pretty buried in there, so I don’t think I’d have to try too hard, I don’t imagine a lot of folks even know about it.”  

He squints his eyes at her, leaning back in his seat.  

“What do you get out of this?” he asks, folding his arms, “You don’t know my home. You don’t know my people.”  

“No, but I know you love them and you work hard for them every day.” She gestures to the apron folded over the chair. “And if you do, I will choose to. Besides, you and I both know these rich bastards have no problem taking our taxes and doing stupid shit with it. Might as well take it back and apply it where it needs to be.”  

He huffs, covering his mouth as it turns to a full cackle as he curls in. He might have said something in between his laughs? She can’t tell, but he’s cheeks are ruddy and glowing when he finally collects himself.  

“Alright Prefect, what details do you need?”  

Jack Howl

There were lots of places boarded off at Ramshackle that Yuu was still exploring. Finding a sunroom was the last thing she thought Ramshackle Dorm might have, but after sweeping and cleaning the place, it’s charming. Open windows, dark frames lining the three out of four walls, and the furniture actually isn’t too bad, just needing a wipe down and some wood oil to make it shine again. The fact that Ramshackle was also being used as an oversized storage unit helps since it has upholstery, furniture and fabrics for repairs for every dorm that she can really make the place shine.  

She knows that Riddle and the boys would love to decorate in Heartslabyul colors, line rose boxes and vines and lilies in the hanging baskets, but she has a better idea.  

“Hey, Jack!” She calls out after track practice. He raises a hand at her, giving his body a light shake to get rid of the soreness in his muscles. “Do you have any succulent or cactus cuttings you could spare?” 

His ears narrowed in straight on her, standing a bit straighter.  

“Ah, yea...I could have some sent from home too.”    

“Is this about the sunroom?” Deuce asked. “We could have some rose bushes sent in from Heartslabyul too. Riddle would be ecstatic to have the Queen’s roses out.”  

“No offense to Riddle or Heartslabyul,” Yuu rubbed the back of her neck, “But there are roses everywhere. Queen Heart’s Roses, Fairest Roses, Thorn Fairy Roses, you get the idea. Besides, I like plants that are heartier and don’t require alot of tending too. Just free to do their own thing.”  

The only reason Jack’s tail wasn’t wagging is because he was holding it. Deuce snickered behind his back, cackling as he avoided the swat at his head.  

“Let me bring what I have at the dorms right now. Besides, it’ll be nice for my dormmates to not be able to mess with it at least some of them.”  

Jack wasn’t able to bring anything big with him when he came to NRC, but the cuttings would grow quickly. The fact that his Mom paid for some of the bigger ones to be sent carefully through the mirrors helped fill out the space, and Leona donated some of the ferns and larger faunas when Ruggie mentioned it. It was in exchange for having a daybed in there so he could nap whenever he wanted, but it was a small sacrifice.  

By the time they finished putting the room together, including sewing together some pillows in Savannaclaw colors and tightening a few screws on the benches and chairs, it looked like a slice of his dorm. Mainly yellows and oranges, with the soft greens of the succulents and more saturated green of the cactus to accent it all. His cactuses were clearly the center point though, blooming like nothing else.  

His Mom had also taken the opportunity to send Yuu a few old clothes that his sister no longer fit in, warm sweaters and shirts that were very much in the style of home. Jack hadn’t known until they started unpacking the box, but Yuu had loved them and he couldn’t find it within himself to be too upset. Afterall, Yuu didn’t have much to begin with, and he knows that fall will be coming in soon.  

When he comes in a few days later He sees her curled up on a chair with her study materials. The tap of her pen against her lip, the smell of heat and fauna thick in the air, snuggled into an old hoodie of his, he can’t even blame his heart for skipping a beat.  

It’s only natural, he tells himself. Instinct even. He doesn’t have to think too hard about it.  

“Why’s your tail wagging?” Yuu asks, pointing to his back.  

“No reason!” he barks, ignoring the way he’s heart does it again as she cackles.  

Only natural.  

Deuce Spade

Deuce would tell you that he’s not the smartest guy in the room. He knows that academically he struggles, and even sometimes with common sense. There’s a lot of things that he never learned or forgot because he made some stupid shitty decisions in his past.  

Maybe that’s why he prefers studying with Yuu one on one instead of a group. Yuu is having to teach herself the basics too, history, spell work, math, literature, they aren’t exactly on the same page, but they are closer than he would prefer to admit.  

Riddle, bless him and his tenacious ways, kept his notes from all his grades. It’s binders and binders worth of material and even if they are slow at it, Riddle never says anything about how long the binder is gone from his bookshelf. He simply continues to offer help.  

Yuu gets the idea after she sees Riddle’s magicam and puts 2 and 2 together with Cater’s exam results.  

So, the next time they get together, she takes him to a side room where a broken radio is.  

“What’s this?” He asks, looking at the tools set off to the side.  

“I have an idea,” Yuu says, sitting on the floor. “I’m going to quiz you while you fix the radio.”  

“Huh?”  

“I have an idea, I think it’ll help, I just need you to trust me.”  

He shrugs his shoulders, rolls up his sleeves and starts answering questions as he pulls the panel off. The quiz is tomorrow and anything is better than nothing at this point.  

Professor Trein smiles at him a bit as he passes the quizzes back at the end of the period.  

“Well done Mr. Spade. Your studying is paying off well.”  

83. He had gotten an 83.  

“Dude!” Yuu jumps on his back, hugging him, “Awesome! It worked!”  

He knows the blush on his face isn’t pride or joy. Neither is the goofy grin. But if that’s what Yuu thinks when she sees it, she doesn’t need to know.  

If they dance together with that fixed radio and his hands linger a little too long on her hips or waist, he doesn’t think too hard on that either.  

He isn’t a very smart man, but he knows he is a happy one.

 

Ace Trappola

Ace will admit that he’s an asshole sometimes. He is self-aware enough and selfish enough to not care. But he isn’t a complete asshole, and really, he’s just preventing you from being stuck with another Overblot like what happened on Winter Break!  

That was the only reason he invited Yuu over. No other reasons.  

He of course does the polite thing and introduces you to this family, including his brother. He doesn’t dislike his brother, he’s actually pretty cool, but he’s aware that he is cooler than Ace. And smarter. And more handsome.  

He isn’t purposefully keeping Yuu away from him, but if it so happens that every time his brother is home that you two are out doing things, that’s just a weird coincidence.  

It’s sunset on the last day, and his family insisted on a cookout all together. They like Yuu a lot, and for the most part try and keep him out of trouble. Which meant lots of talking, family telling stories and comparing between the two of them, like they always do. It isn’t malicious, he knows that, but it hurts sometimes when his brother has a seven-year head start. It’s winding down now though, with his parents and brother going to bed already for work in the morning. They should have been, the train leaves early the next morning, but neither of them can sleep, so they are trying to wind down with cards. Ace always has a pack on him, but in his room he has multiple. He’s even nice enough to let Yuu pick the deck she wants.  

“You ready for tomorrow?” she asks, laying a card down.  

“Totally. I love my folks but being here just makes me itch to leave again.” he makes a pair, chuckling at her huff, “Besides my brother is...well he’s my brother, you know.”  

“I mean, he’s ok, but I much prefer hanging out with you.”  

It’s such a small thing that it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t. But damn if he’s face doesn’t twitch into a genuine smile. Prefers him. Yuu prefers him.  

“Ah, you gotta crush on me?” He teases, poking her cheek, “You got something you want to tell me?”  

“Oh, fuck off.” She snips, kicking his foot, “You got an ego that makes Vil look humble.”  

He can only laugh, muffling his delight into a pillow. He tucks the memory away with a breath, making another pair.

 

Rook Hunt

The gardens of Pomefiore aren’t as well-known as some of the other dorms, but they are beautiful, nonetheless. Carefully cultivated and trimmed, it has more of a nature tamed by man aesthetic, but it was still beautiful.  

Rook knows them better than most students, spending so much time amongst the trees, bushes and flowers to practice his hunting skills and photography. When Yuu asked him for pointers, he was more than happy to give her a hands-on lesson.  

“And that is how you achieve this effect!” He says, setting the glass off to the side.  

“Nice!” she nods, finishing the note she was writing. “That is so much easier than what I was picturing. I can’t thank you enough for this Rook, this will help so much with the commission that Crewel gave me. What got you into photography anyway?”  

“Having pictures of Roi De Poison and Monsieur Curiosity that nobody else has? Bliss! But also, I do so enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Photography gives me the means to shoot and not kill my target. Their beauty must live on until fate takes them. Or my arrow.”  

Yuu cannot help but chuckle a bit, figuring that was the case.  

“Vil told me a bit about the day you two met. It makes sense. He also said you started in SavannaClaw?”  

“I did. Transfering dorms was the best decision I have ever made!” He touches the leaves above him, the apple tree swaying a bit in the cool breeze. “Why do you think I switched dorms, Mon Trickster?”  

Yuu zips up the ghost camera into her bag, taking a moment to try and phase her words. The Rook that Vil described reminds her of herself here. Ambition with no direction. Goals of survival with no room for anything else. Of being so cautious and gentle with everything around, but the people aren’t with her. Even those that care for her bruise her, even when they don’t mean to.  

“I think...you got tired of your life feeling like a museum.” Rook cocks his head at her. “Before, you kept your hands behind your back, quietly observing, scrutinizing and praising the beauty around you but never interacting. I don’t know if you thought you didn’t deserve it or that you couldn’t have it, but I think you got tired of imagining what softness would feel like. I think you decided that you would rather be an active participant, in your life, even if it meant changing, however scary it is.”  

It is quiet behind her. Yuu secures the last of the props into the tote, still waiting.  

“Rook?”  

She doesn’t get a chance to turn around. His front thumps into her, arms wrapping around her shoulders.  

“Apologize Mon Ami. I was stunned by your wisdom un moment.” He whispers. She feels him take a deep breath into her shoulder, but he’s hat completely blocks him from her view. “You might be the closest yet.”  

“Huh?”  

“Nothing, nothing!” He jumps in front of her, grabbing the tote with a bright smile. “Let us return, Roi de Poison does hate one being late!”

“We are meeting Vil after this?” She asks, jogging to keep up his pace that’s more like a skip.  

“Of course! We have traveled much today. We must replenish with good food and drink!”  

He goes on to describe what is on the menu, but inside it is taking everything within him not to gather you up and take him home. Oh, Mon Trickster, you read him too easily. He will have to keep you close in the years to come to just keep himself safe, in whatever capacity needed. There is, after all, more than one way to be a lover.  

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Dark Lord (Part 2)

Summary: The reader's been tasked with devising a way of getting Sam out from under the grasp of Demon King Crowley by The Dark Lord. But Dean isn't exactly what the world thinks he is and his hiring of the reader might not be so simple...

Part 1

Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, curses

A/N: Welcome back to this one! There's so much going on in this part that will fill in some gaps. I'm keeping this a two parter mini-series for now but maybe someday there could be more. Please enjoy!

_______

Dean POV

“Why hello, Lord Winchester,” said Donna with a bow and shit eating grinning. I narrowed my eyes as she shut the door to my office. “However may I serve you today oh fearsome one?”

“Fuck off,” I said with a smile, flipping her the bird. She still wore a giddy smile, sliding into the chair opposite my desk. “I believe it was security that came up with the Protocol for when we have a new employee, hm?”

“If I have to call you Lord one more time, I’m jumping off the terrace,” she said, crossing her legs and pulling her laptop from her bag. “Besides, that protocol isn’t a hard and fast rule. She’s not a spy.”

“She could be.” Donna rolled her eyes, clacking away at the keys. “She was stealing from me so she’s not so innocent.”

She scoffed. “She stole some fucking asthma medication for her kid brother cause she got canned from her old job so she lost her health insurance, all because she wouldn’t sleep with her scumbag ex-boss. Yeah. She’s a real hard ass.”

“Did you do what I asked?” I tilted my head, Donna sighing. “I’m not going to kill him. Just ruin his life.”

“An anonymous tip will go out to authorities next week,” she said. “Wasn’t exactly hard to find the tax fraud and payoffs.”

“As I expected. So, how’s she doing?” Donna shrugged, typing again. “Come on. She barely talks to me.”

“Yeah, cause you scared the shit out of her. She’s freaking out trying to come up with a plan to get into Crowley’s place.” I breathed deeply. “Isn’t she moving in today? Why don’t you go drop the charade and help her.”

I pursed my lips, eyes darting to the window. “She only got caught at the warehouse because one of the guards twisted his ankle in the parking lot and she went to help him. We wouldn’t have seen her at all which means that girl is hiding something.”

“Magic,” said Donna. I hummed, a bird flapping by. “There isn’t any in her bloodline from what we saw.”

“Do you remember why everyone calls me the Dark Lord?” I asked. Donna’s lips parted, her gaze averting. “There’s ways of having magic without being born with it and we both know it.”

“Can…can you do what she did? Sneak in and out of places without being seen?” I shook my head, Donna closing her computer, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, Dean.”

I turned my attention back to her, Donna frowning. “What?”

“You want her to sneak in and get Sam, don’t you? You’re going to risk some poor woman that worked in accounts payable her whole life just so-” I held up a hand, Donna still pouting.

“I want her to teach me how to do that. However she got in, I need to understand it and once I do, I alone will get Sam back.”

“How do you know you can do what she did?” Donna asked. I frowned, standing up. “Dean.”

“I just do, okay? I need to go. Can you handle the latest shipments?” She nodded, her eyes far too concerned. I tried to smile but it came out flat. “Just…trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said. 

I gave her a curt nod before I was gone, swallowing thickly as I walked the halls towards the far end of the grounds where personal quarters were.

Nothing stupid. Right.

Y/N POV

“Careful!” you said as Kyle rushed around your new townhouse that afternoon. It was modern, yet cozy, warm and inviting. It was by far the nicest place either of you had ever lived. Coming fully furnished didn’t hurt either.

A knock at the door made you jump, Kyle rushing past you to open it. “Kyle-”

He ripped it open, Dean standing there dressed in a red flannel and dark wash jeans. 

“Hello, I’m Dean,” he said, Kyle holding out a hand.

“Kyle Y/L/N,” he said back, Dean smiling as he shook it, his gaze oh so briefly finding yours in the background and god, your heart leapt at the sight. That man was hot when he was brooding but he looked downright sinful when he was grinning ear to ear.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself then. Dean Winchester although you probably know me in town as The Dark Lord.” Kyle dropped it immediately, Dean clasping his hands behind his back. “Really? Do I seem that scary?”

“Y/N says not to talk to strangers.” 

And he proceeded to shut the door in Dean’s face.

 “Kyle! That’s my boss!” You rushed over and ripped the door open, Dean chuckling when you did so. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” said Dean, Kyle tucked away behind your back now. He peered around you, giving Kyle a small wave. “That is good advice your sister gave you about strangers. You know, I wish I had a big sister when I was growing up. My life would have turned out very differently if I had someone watching my back.”

“Don’t you like being The Dark Lord?” he asked, coming around your side. You nodded and let Dean inside. He took a few steps before squatting down, letting Kyle tower over him. Dean tilted his head, looking boyish for a moment.

“Not really,” said Dean, Kyle’s eyes going wide. You kept your face expressionless but were surprised by that admission. “Outside this place, people think I’m the bad guy. I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories about how I’m a monster in a skull mask and cloak, running around killing anything that moves.”

Kyle nodded, Dean resting his elbows against his knees, sinking back into his heels.

“I used to live in town with my parents and brother. We were normal. We didn’t even have any magic in our family. When I was four though, a bad man came to my house.” Dean’s gaze fell down to the hardwoods, his jaw twitching. “He hurt my mom and tried to hurt my brother who was only a baby. It was King Crowley.”

“What happened?” he asked. Dean looked up at you though, your eyes following the thin trail of black that rose up from between his shoulder blades, curling all around the room, your eyes darting after it. Kyle looked at you strangely. “What are you looking at?”

“You don’t see…” Dean rose to his feet, the black trail curling all around your body, swirling and pulling away, stopping with a pointed look at your chest. “What are you doing?”

“King Crowley turns out was there looking for me. He knew of a curse, a powerful one. He placed it on myself and intended to place it in my brother. But my dad stopped him before he could touch Sam. Then, well then we left town.”

The smoky mist curled around Kyle, ruffling his hair without him noticing. 

“See Kyle, this curse? It only works if put on soulmates. Sam is one of mine but people have lots of soulmates. So Crowley cursed another one of mine eventually and that day, I got my powers. Incredible power, power that when working with my soulmate would be unstoppable. King Crowley isn’t happy though. I was too strong when he tried to capture me, control me. So he went after my brother to try and place the curse on him too to control us. To have power.”

Dean’s trail moved from Kyle to tuck under your chin, yours lifting on instinct. His eyes followed the movement, lip quirking.

“I never wanted to be scary but it’s the only thing that keeps Crowley from coming here and trying to hurt the people I care about again. Reputation is powerful,” said Dean, clasping Kyle on the shoulder. “There’s a few kids playing a game of soccer down past the housing quarters on the greens. Maybe you want to go check it out while I help your sister finish unpacking?”

Kyle looked at you, optimism in his eyes. 

“Alright,” you said, grabbing your phone off the front table and handing it to him. “I want you home by six at the latest, understand? And no leaving the grounds. And Kyle?”

“What?” he groaned, already rushing to put on his sneakers. 

“Have fun,” you said, Kyle scooting outside not five seconds later. Dean watched him take off, humming before he stepped back inside the townhouse.

“Cute kid,” said Dean, his smoke trail spinning all around you. “Reminds me of Sam.”

“What the hell is that?” you said, nodding to where the trail stopped, pointing at you. Dean shrugged. “Is that because I’m magic?”

“You’re not magic, Y/N. I just told you. Crowley put a curse on me.” 

“You said that already.” Dean’s black misty trail pushed forward, pressing forward, stopping at your chest. You stared down, breath hitching. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t use your powers often. You’d be more in tune with sensing others if you did,” he said, gently resting the tip against your skin. You glanced up, Dean cocking his head. “Do you remember the part where I said he cursed another, Y/N? A soulmate of mine. It’s not hard for a man dealing with demon magic like him to find out those sorts of things. So. If you don’t have magic in your blood yet you have powers…powers that allow you to see my also non-magical powers…that makes us…”

You blinked, holding up your hands. “Wait. No. No there’s not way you and me are…”

“So you didn’t eye fuck me the first time we met?” Your cheeks flushed, eyes darting away. “Y/N. Come on. Let’s stop pretending and be realistic.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What exactly does that mean?” 

Dean ran a hand through his hair, letting his hand drop slowly. “It means…it means teach me how you broke into my warehouse so I can get Sam back. After that…we’ll figure that out if Crowley doesn’t catch me.”

You took a few steps away, putting your back to him. 

“Why does Crowley want our power? He’s never come near me. Something doesn’t add up.” There was a presence behind you, causing you to turn and face Dean who had come closer. “Unless he found out after the fact our powers aren’t that same and decided he only needs yours.”

Dean held up a finger pointing it in your face. “You…have good points. He really never came after you ever?”

“Not that I know of.” You hesitated, Dean tilting his head. “Your powers…what do they do?”

Dean took his turn to move away now, slipping past you into your kitchen. He splayed his palms on your kitchen island, shoulders sagging.

“Think of them as…being like the offense on a sports team. They can attack, control, move things.”

“I can’t do that,” you said quietly. You went to the kitchen sink, turning the water to hot, too hot. Meanwhile, Dean eyed you, steam billowing against the cold metal basin. “Just…watch.”

After a beat, you placed your hand under the water, Dean rushing around the island. You held up a hand, his gaze drifting down to where the water rippled over your skin. “It doesn’t hurt me, Dean. Your powers are like offsene? Well, mine are defense I’m pretty sure. It’s like I get a bubble around me.”

Dean reached around you, turning off the water before handing you a hand towel from the counter. He tilted his head, biting his bottom lip.

“You don’t think you can show me how you do that?” he asked. You sighed. He took the towel back when you finished wiping your hand off, one of his black smoky tendrils wrapping around it, holding it up. “Maybe you can try one of my powers first. Can you take the towel?”

With a frown, you concentrated on trying to pluck it away from him but all you managed was to make the bubble around your hand larger, wrapping it around the two of you. Dean looked up and over his shoulder, pouting when he glanced at the misty dome encompassing you.

“You may have a point about us having different powers,” said Dean, touching a finger to the barrier. “Why would Crowley take Sam then?”

“Same reason as always. To get to you. If he kept Sam, he could make you use your powers for whatever he wants. Mine aren’t all that useful to a guy like that. It’s probably why he’s never bothered me.”

“Why curse you then?” he asked. You shrugged, pulling the bubble away and swallowing.

“Maybe the powers don’t work unless both people are cursed? But I guess that doesn’t make sense. I’m younger than you quite a bit,” you said. He scoffed.

“Quite a bit? I’m barely forty, little shit,” he said, breathing deeply. “...Although I don’t remember doing anything with my powers until I was older. Maybe eight, seven?”

“So you couldn’t actually do anything until I was cursed as a baby too.” You leaned back against the counter, Dean settling back against the island with crossed arms. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t think I can teach you how to do what I do. I don’t even think about it. It just happens.”

“I understand that feeling,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’ll figure out another way to get Sammy out.” 

“Setting aside the fact we are…soulmates for now,” you said slowly, Dean cautiously meeting your gaze, “I don’t think this plan stops at getting Sam back. Crowley will just come after him again.”

“You sound like you have an idea.” You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Let’s hear it. I hired you to brainstorm this stuff so I’ll take anything at this point.”

“Well, I think we need to figure out what Crowley wants. He’s all powerful so why does he need your power specifically? Crowly rules The Dark Lands. He’s eons old and doesn’t bother humans. So what on earth could he need you for and why now? He had plenty of opportunities to grab Sam over the years. He must be on some kind of deadline. What’s that tell us?” Dean straightened, eyes wide.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of that,” he said, reaching out and cupping your cheeks in his hands, planting a fast kiss on your lips. You barely felt it before he pulled back, licking his lips. “You’re a genius, little thief.”

“Uh, thank you?” He started to jog away for the front door, your throat clearing. “We’re not going to talk about the whole kissing thing just then?”

He froze, spinning around with a smile. “Couldn’t help myself. I uh, I know what Crowley wants I’m pretty sure. I’ll stop over tonight.”

“Dean-” But he was already out the door, jogging towards the main building. “Be careful, ya big idiot.”

Two AM

You jumped awake from your chair on the porch when you heard a car door shut. Dean’s muscle car was in front of the townhouse, his long legs carrying him up the front steps into the light. His eyes were dark, tired, but you saw no injuries on him.

“You worried about me or something?” he teased, sitting down slowly in the seat next to you. A long breath left his lips, his eyes closing. “You back to being terrified of me? Or is it just the nerves of being next to your soulmate?”

“I don’t like cocky guys,” you huffed, Dean chuckling, peeling his eyes open to smirk at you. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” He tilted his head. “It’s flattering really. You’re fated to be with The Dark Lord. You like a bad boy, don’t you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said. You got up, taking the blanket wrapped around your shoulders with you. “Did you come here to flirt or what?”

“Always so serious,” he said, looking you up and down. “You have anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have your own home?” He hummed. “Why are you here?”

He stood, cupping the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You rose up on your tiptoes, black smoke curling around your body and holding you in a tight embrace. God he was so…gentle? His large hands were holding you, grasping, tugging, yet his lips were slow, soft, teasingly playful.

He grinned when you broke off, nose touching as your hot breath mixed together. “I recall you wanting to revisit that kiss, hm?”

“How do you know we’re romantic soulmates, hm?” you said, Dean chuckling. “God, you’re annoying. I liked you better when I thought you were scary.”

“Oh, I’m terrifying, sweetheart. Just not to the people on my side. Especially not the woman that thinks I’m hot. Or would you like me to show you the security tape from when they brought you in and you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

“I was afraid for my life,” you deadpanned. Dean shrugged. “I was!”

“Yet here you are, kissing me twice in one day.” 

“You kissed me-” He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“Details, sweetheart. Now, I really am starving and I would love to answer all of your questions but I don’t want to disturb Kyle. We can chat in the morning.” He pecked a kiss to your temple before striding off back towards his car.

“What? Why’d you come here then?” He spun around, a tinge of pink on his upper cheeks.

“I realize I left…abruptly. I didn’t want you to worry. I could say it’s because you’re head over heels for me because of the soulmate thing but really, you’re just kind. Kind people tend to worry about other people, even when they don’t quite deserve it yet.”

You crossed your arms, glancing down at your slippers. “Why do you pretend to be this scary bad guy when you’re clearly not him?”

“Because I can do a lot more good behind a mask. Good guy Dean wouldn’t have the connections I do to let me know your former boss wasn’t paying his taxes and has a history of sexual harassment. Good guy Dean certainly wouldn’t know how to get proof of that and how to relay it to authorities.” Your head snapped up, Dean pursing his lips. “You never thought it was curious why police never went after The Dark Lord with all his evil crimes?”

“Your whole thing is…a facade?” He shrugged. “So you don’t torture and kill people who wrong you?”

“I never said that. Stories get embellished is all.” You bit the inside of your cheek, Dean taking a step back. “I’ll see you in the-”

“Kyle’s not home. He made a few friends today. He’s at a sleepover.” Dean took a step forward, looking you up and down. “If you want to...talk now. Only talk.”

“Only talk. I’m good with that.” 

You were hot when you stirred the next morning. Your pillow felt hard as your eyes fluttered open to find a very bare chested Dean under your head. 

“Well good morning,” he whispered, kissing your temple. You narrowed your eyes, Dean breaking out into a laugh. “And they call me the scary one. They ought to see you first thing. Look ready to stab some eyes out.”

“Why are you in my bed shirtless? I do not hookup,” you growled. He shushed you, his large arm curling around your back. 

“Because you invited me to stay? I got ketchup on my shirt after our snack so it’s in the wash…you only have a two bedroom and we had a few beers…so you told me we could share…do you really not remember this?” Okay, maybe once your sleep deprived brain had a moment to think, you did recall inviting him into your bed, even if that had been a somewhat drunken ask. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, laying back in bed, closing your eyes. “Just thought for a second we…”

“No. We didn’t do anything. But maybe I can cook you dinner sometime.” 

“Maybe,” you said, Dean shifting in bed, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. “You’re like a puppy aren’t you? Now that I let you in the house you think you can stay.”

“I let you in my house first,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against your arm. “Sam would like to meet you if that’s cool, say thanks in person. He should be up for visitors later.”

“I’ll make sure to stop by. I’m glad he’s safe again.” Dean let out a heavy breath. “You were fuzzy on the details. What exactly did you give to Crowley to get Sam back?”

“It’s funny how much you can get done when you just talk to each other,” said Dean, letting him use your arm as a pillow, your fingers toying with his strands. “It’s well known Crowley’s queen was imprisoned eons ago. Well, turns out the wizard who did it died about fifty years ago after some freak accident.”

“So his magic would start to fade.”

“Exactly. Which meant the queen would die when it did fade on the spell he cast without some intervention. The wizard cursed it so only a soulmate with the curse could open the box. Crowley was running out of time and grabbed Sam as a last resort so to speak. He’s not my favorite person in the world but we came to an agreement to put all this behind us.”

“Sam for the queen,” you said.

“And Crowley sticks to the Darks Lands for the next thousand years. Figured that should keep things quiet for awhile.” You turned your head, Dean looking up through his lashes. “I never would have thought to just talk to the guy without you.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” You reached your free hand around to rest on his bicep. “You’re offense, I’m defense, remember?”

“You know, I don’t actually know if we’re romantic soulmates. Crowley wouldn’t spill on that. We might just be meant to be best friends.” You raised your eyebrows, offering a sleepy smile. “Hey, you asked earlier. I just don’t know if-”

You pressed a finger to his lips, Dean’s eyes darkening. “Why don’t we start with you making me dinner tonight and we’ll go from there?”

“What about Kyle?” he asked.

“While your concern for my little brother is extremely appealing, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind a night at one of his new friends again. Anymore excuses?” Dean pursed his lips, thinking hard. 

“You don’t feel obligated to do this because I’m your boss, right?” You rolled your eyes, Dean batting your hand away to roll on top of you. “Had to check. So. Dinner at seven?”

“Sounds great,” you said, staring up at him, Dean licking his lips. “Better run along, Mr. Dark Lord. Lots of terrorizing on the agenda for today I’m sure.”

“Between the torture and the maiming I mean I’m packed solid,” he teased, bending down, brushing his lips over yours. “Come by the mess hall at noon with Kyle. We have family lunch there on the weekends.”

“Sure thing Mr. Fluffy Lord.” Dean pecked a hard kiss to your lips, pointing a finger at you when he pulled back. “You’re so soft and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, little thief.”

“One time!” you said, Dean smirking, your eyes widening. “How…how’d you know it was more than once?”

“My stock’s been short for the past year. No harm, no foul. Oh,” he said, climbing out of bed, ruffling his hair. “Remind me to talk to Michael about Kyle. He’s been researching it for the past few months and might have a magical fix for his asthma.”

“Months? But you didn’t know-”

“I knew someone was stealing the medicine and while we can’t cure everything, between magic and science, I figured he could solve it and we could put it out there.” You smirked, Dean pointing a finger again. “Do not call me Fluffy Lord.”

“Yes. You’re truly so evil.” 

“Damn right I am,” said Dean. “I got a skull mask and cloak even. Evil incarnate over here.”

“Whatever you say, Fluffy Lord.” You propped yourself up on your elbow, Dean narrowing his eyes playfully. “I hope you enjoyed this because you’re not getting back in my bed until you’ve earned it.”

“Already dreaming about the next time we share a bed, are we?” he teased. You flipped him off, pointing at the door. “Alright. I better get out of here before we have to explain this situation to a twelve year old.”

“Yes, please,” you said, Dean bending down, cupping your chin in his hand. Your heart caught in your throat, Dean smiling softly. 

“Thank you for giving me back Sam, beautiful.” He pressed a linger kiss against you, lifting his head and kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you soon, little thief.”

“Yes you will, Dark Lord.”

_____________

[crowlixcx]

I'm so obsessed with Aziraphale bragging about his magic abilities and natural gift with props to Crowley in the magic shop and then IMMEDIATELY dropping the rings and knocking everything over on the counter, it's like lying about knowing how to roller skate on your dating profile and then having the fright of your life when they take you to a roller rink for your first date and straight away falling flat on your ass

[deadbutnostink]

I just re-read good omens and i just love how clear the book makes it that crowley isnt cool. Hes literally just dressing up as what he thinks a cool human is!!!

He is anxious and erratic and has no control over what is going on and he is always running away. When driving up to the site of armageddon the one thing he actually wants to do is get pissed and wait for it all to happen.

When he knows that he fucked up and Hastur and Ligur are coming to get him, he is pacing through his flat, watching TV, starts putting his casette collection into alphabetical order before realising it is in order already and he is soso scared.

Most of his evil deeds come back to bite him in the ass. He even thinks that letting hastur, who is trapped on a tape, turn into the best of queen is too evil. And then hastur escapes and eats an entire telemarketing-office.

And then there is Aziraphale being an absolute brick headed bitch. Oh yea we should just kill the 11 year old that is the antichrist but i cant do it because im the good guy so i will just get the insane old witchfinder dude to do it with his huge gun. Aziraphale is always ready to face problems once he actually sees them.

[shady-the-simp]

Hi can you write an established relationship with Crowley from Good Omens and they’re just waking up together, maybe they had just had their first time the night before so some teasing or something but mainly fluffy and preferably female reader but gn reader is fine too

Good Morning

Crowley x Fem!Reader

A/N: I decided to change it up from them waking up together to something I thought would be cuter. I hope you enjoy! <3

Word count: 251

Warnings: Fluff, all the fluff, a lil mention of smut, Crowley being a little shit but we love him anyways, kinda short sorry, not proofread, anything I missed

You sat up and rubbed the blur from your eyes and looked beside you. Nothing. That’s weird, Crowley was usually right beside you with a kiss when you woke up. You put on your underwear and one of his button-ups that you loved so much as you wandered downstairs.

“Crowley?” You called out into the seemingly empty flat.

“Kitchen, love!” You heard him singing along to some Queen song after calling down to you. You waltzed into the kitchen and saw him in just his boxers and a “kiss the cook” apron, cooking something that smelt amazing.

“Ah! Just in time, darling! Here, have a taste,” He grabbed a spoonful of something out of a pot and blew on it slightly before bringing it to your mouth. Holy shit. He can fuck, and he can cook. What a catch.

“Holy fuck, this is good. How are you so perfect?” He laughed and kissed you softly before bringing you to his chest and holding you tightly.

“So, how was last night? Was my cock good enough for you?” He emphasized the word “cock” with a teasing thrust of his hips to your backside. You gasped softly and giggled and turned around.

“Yes, you perv. You were perfect,” You placed a kiss to his mouth and he smiled against you “I love you, Crow.”

“I love you too, darling. Now,” He slapped your ass before walking into the dining room with you. “Shall we eat?”

Fuck, you’d do anything for that man.

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #189

1. Greetings! First off, you people are incredible, thank you so much for the work you do, you are this fandom’s saviors! <3 Now, I’m looking for a fic I read a few weeks ago, I’ve already spent so many hours scrolling through ao3 I think I’m going insane. It was an e-rated fic, one chapter I think, and I’m pretty sure it was set in some kind of ancient time. The story was that Aziraphale had been ordered by heaven to experience ~earthly pleasures~, he didn’t really want to but ended up doing it with Crowley. It was kinda awkward cause they were bad at it, but it worked out eventually. It had bottom Crowley. I mostly read recent fics so I’m worried it might have been deleted since I can’t find it. But since it was set in history it could possibly be written pre-season 2. I hope you or someone who sees this recognizes it so I can stop feeling out of my mind! Xoxo - anon

2. Hi, I’m looking for a fic on Ao3 where Aziraphale accidentally gives Crowley a tattoo during an intimate moment. I believe the tattoo was a wing. There is a part where Crowley gives him a tattoo as well. I’ve searched but can’t find it😭 Thanks! - anon

3. Hello, my dearest librarians! I am looking for a fic which I've downloaded, but I don't have access to that hard drive anymore, and it's only recently that I've made a proper Ao3 account. I'm looking for a fic which I found in your "night at crowley's flat" subsection, but now I cannot see it? It's about the husbands, starting on a bus stop and they are drinking wine. When Crowley wordlessly asks for a swig, Aziraphale instead puts his hand in Crowley's. Long story short, they nap together ("oh darling, your hair,") on the bus, get to the flat, sweet dreams and cuddles ensue. There's a second chapter where they watch Wicked, the musical, and a third one months later where they are living a domestic life in the South Downs. "Lost the hard drive" sounds fishy, but it was a very sweet and tender fic, I just happened to lose my phone. I sincerely hope it isn't gone, but either way thank you so much for all you do and I hope y'all have a fine evening. Cheers! - @flying-desk-set

4. TW! SELF HARM/SUICIDE!!!!! hi! i lost a fic where az. was sh-ing and crowley finds out. there was dialouge in there that went like this- " 'Oh really, Crowley it wasn't that serious. I wasn't suicidal or anything.' Aziraphale knew he shouldn't have lied about that, because when he built up enough courage to look at Crowley, he was looking at him with a horrified look on his face." and then they hug and he's like "I've already lost you twice, dont you dare leave me again." thanks if you find it! - anon

5. Hello! I'm looking for a whumpy fic i just can't track down where Aziraphale and Crowley visit Anathema. While there, Crowleys being a bit of an ass (Think grumpy teen, bored at a family event). Crowley pulls out a flask and adds a shot of hellfire(?) to his drink, which Aziraphale then accidentally consumes. I THINK they give him holy water, and Crowley talks with Aziraphale on another plane. (Temporary Character Death?) Any help tracking this down is seriously appreciated. Thanks! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Cyborg Savior

Author: ValandraWrites

Artist: squirrelofcelestialintent

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Castiel Past Castiel/April Past Sam/Jessica

Length: 73000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester Cyborg Castiel (Supernatural) Dean Winchester makes a deal with Crowley Young Dean Winchester Tattooed Castiel Cage Fighter Castiel Science Fiction EcoPunk

Posting Date: November 6, 2024

Summary: Castiel is an Alpha cyborg with a mysterious and dangerous past. His fists and cybernetic arm have solved almost every problem he's ever faced, except for when it comes to love. After losing the love of his life, he never thought he'd find someone again. Dean is a naive omega fleeing the dying farmlands to forge his own future. The restrictive, traditional community he’d been raised in never prepared him for being an omega in the slums of the city. When Dean makes a deal with Crowley, he doesn't realize he’s sold his soul until a cyborg who scares and intrigues him in equal parts steps in.  Will Castiel be able to save the day, or is he just as dangerous as everyone around them says he is?

Excerpt: Someone slapped Dean on the ass from behind with the cold outline of a metallic hand, and Castiel's cybernetic hand shot out with inhuman speed and clamped around the offending man's neck, metal digits pressing into vulnerable flesh. His blue eyes narrowed to icy slits, a cruel twist to his mouth. He stared the man down with a soul-withering look, not saying a word. The air crackled with barely restrained violence. "S-sorry, Castiel..." the man wheezed, face reddening. "Don't fucking apologize to me, you mongrel," Castiel snarled. "If it were my ass you'd slapped, you'd already be a smear on the floor." The man blanched, struggling futilely against Castiel's unbreakable grip, raw terror in his bulging eyes. "I...I didn't realize he was with you..." "Doesn't matter. I'm talking to him, aren't I? Keep your rusty paws to yourself unless you've paid for the privilege. Now apologize to him." "Sorry...won't happen again..." the man gasped out. Castiel's penetrating gaze shifted to Dean, and molten heat flooded Dean's chest, rising up his neck to his face. Castiel's hardened expression softened, his head tilting slightly. "Do you accept his apology, Dean?" "What? Oh, uh, yeah, it's fine. No harm done," Dean managed, pulse pounding in his ears. He felt flayed open, exposed, under the intensity of Castiel's stare. Those mercurial blue eyes shifted from sky to sapphire, taking Dean's breath away. With a dismissive shove to the shoulder, Castiel released the man. "Get the fuck out of my sight." His voice dripped with disdain. "Thanks," Dean said, trying for levity. "Maybe you should be my bodyguard all night." His joke fell flat as Castiel glared at him, eyes raking over Dean's body. Shame and desire warred within Dean. The muscle in Castiel's neck throbbed in time with Dean's racing heart. "Got a problem with your job? Take it up with Crowley. Otherwise, put those pretty bow legs to work." Castiel's words were gruff, but his heated gaze lingered on Dean's form appreciatively. Bending down, Castiel grabbed Dean's discarded drinks tray. He started to hand it over before snatching it back out of reach, a mischievous glint in his eye. "What do I get in return?" His eyes dipped hungrily to Dean's parted lips. Dean licked his lips nervously, noting how Castiel's eyes tracked the movement. "A sincere and heartfelt thank you?" His voice came out huskier than intended. Dean tried to look away, but he was entranced by Castiel's wide, sensual lips, and the tantalizing lines of metal and gearing that disappeared under his shirt, hinting at mysteries underneath.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[valleydean]

Chapter 15 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

Dean and Cas had high-tailed it to the NBA office, where Bobby and Michael were already waiting for them. Gabriel showed up a minute after them, and then Sam, whom Bobby had brought in for “legal advice.” Crowley’s assistant sequestered them all in the conference room. They hadn’t been waiting very long before Crowley walked in, took one look at Dean and Cas, and asked them if they were “really that stupid.”

Since then, Dean had half-heard a lot of yelling and not a lot of solutions through the raging tinnitus in his ears. He repeatedly tried to pipe up, but his vocal cords were paralyzed. All he could do was sit there with his head in his hands. His eyes flashed to Cas, seated beside him. Cas hadn’t said much, either. He’d kept his gaze down and his white-knuckled fists on his lap pretty much since they’d entered the room.

He must have felt Dean’s eyes on him. His gaze swept up, blue and hapless and about as terrified as Dean felt inside his own bones. Dean reached over and put his hand over Cas’ fist, stroked Cas’ wrist with his thumb. Cas exhaled shakily.

“You’re out of your grapefruit if you think I’m puttin’ him on a radio show for this crap!” Bobby yelled, spit flying from under his mustache. His face was red with anger under the rim of his newsboy cap, which meant Dean would probably get his ass handed to him the second they were alone. He just hoped Bobby would tucker himself out screaming at Crowley before that happened.

“Then what do you suggest, Robert?” Crowley retorted from where he was standing at the head of the table, his hands flat on the surface as he leaned into them. His face was an even riper shade of tomato-red than Bobby’s.

“Something that don’t involve more media!”

“It may be inevitable at this point,” Michael pointed out.

Dean’s eyes stayed glued to Cas’. Cas shook his head slightly, his lips a pale, thin line of anxiety. Dean gave his hand a squeeze, trying to reassure him that at least they were in this shitstorm together. He barely noticed Sam’s empathetic expression as his gaze flickered down to Dean and Cas’ conjoined hands.

“Oh, come on,” Bobby argued. “You want this in every legitimate newspaper across the nation? We don’t have to issue a public denial every time one of them stubs a toe!”

“You call this a stubbed toe?” Gabriel said, snatching one of the magazines from the pile and holding it up to Bobby.

Crowley’s team had bought up all the magazine copies they could find, but it was too late. Too much of the public had already gotten their hands on it. And that was only in New York.

“I call it a story that’ll blow over by Sunday if we don’t feed it,” Bobby answered.

“This wouldn’t have happened at all if you kept Winchester in line,” Gabriel said, pointing a finger at Bobby. Dean winced slightly, because Bobby didn’t deserve that. This was all Dean’s fault.

“You wanna talk about which one of us is bad at our jobs?” Bobby said, steam practically coming out of his ears. “You’re the one who was supposed to kill the story.”

“I did!”

“Apparently all you did was stun it.”

“Hey!” Sam shouted, interrupting before there was any bloodshed. “Fighting isn’t getting us anywhere.”

His eyes flashed warily toward Dean and Cas. He breathed out heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “The story’s out. We need to talk about a solution, not—not point fingers at each other.”

“Now I see why people call you the smarter one. Although it isn’t hard to come out on top with this lot,” Crowley commented, earning himself a scowl from Sam. “I couldn’t agree more. We need to find out who exactly is to blame for leaking this story.”

“I think that’s fairly obvious,” Michael said. “It had to have been my brother and Mr. Webb.”

Dean gnashed his teeth at the mention of Lee’s name. A few weeks ago, he would have defended Lee, said he’d never do something like this. But now, he wouldn’t put it past the guy. The only problem was, Dean hadn’t told him what had happened in Kansas City.

“How would he have known to go after that?” he asked.

Cas wrinkled his face in a cross between annoyance and disbelief. “You’re still defending him?”

“Hell no,” Dean answered quickly. “I’m just saying, he didn’t know what happened.”

Sam said, “Yeah, but Dean, it’s not like he didn’t know about you two. Luc, too. They could have—I dunno—put some feelers out to see what kinda dirt they could dig up.”

“Exactly,” Michael agreed. “They had the means, and the motive. The timing of this is too coincidental. We just announced Webb would fight Castiel next month. If I know Luc, he means to discredit Castiel and turn the public against him.”

“Who knows how long they’ve been sitting on this,” Gabriel added ominously. It made Dean sick thinking about what other stories Lee was willing to take to the press. And it made him furious knowing this was the one he’d picked.

Making the world think Dean was some kind of cheater was one thing, but this? Him and Cas? It was just about the lowest thing Dean could think of. Maybe Lee had been hoping Dean would slip up somehow when he’d first given him that cocaine. Dean had let himself get out of control, get sloppy. He’d given Lee the perfect ammunition.

Cas shifted, turning his eyes on Crowley. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?” he asked, tone threatening.

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up like he was offended. “I beg your pardon? Have you lost it? Have you any idea how much money I sunk into that tour of yours so you could remain heavyweight champion?”

“Wait, you’re doing what?” Bobby spat.

Cas looked down again, like a kid being punished. Dean huffed, because now wasn’t really the time. “We’ll talk about it later,” he told Bobby.

“Like hell—”

“We got a little more on our plates right now, Bobby,” Dean said, voice louder. He should have told Bobby about Cas before, but in his defense, Bobby had kicked Dean out of the gym every time he’d tried to go in. And part of Dean was still unconvinced that Cas would go through with it, even after everything.

Luckily, Bobby dropped it with little more than a disgruntled murmur about not trusting anybody with a college education. In response, Michael only tilted his head to the side, unamused.

“The point is,” Crowley cut back in, “I have to protect my assets. That’s you two morons. Particularly Castiel. The priority is to ensure that no damage comes to his reputation—and, in turn, the NBA’s.”

Dean scoffed wetly, affronted. He pulled his hand off of Cas’. “And what? Mine isn’t?”

Crowley cocked his head at a sharp angle. “Do I have to teach you arithmetic, you ape? This problem involves both of you. Meaning, the solution will benefit both of you.”

That wasn’t totally true. Dean had still been accused of throwing his last fight. But Crowley wouldn’t lift a finger to help there, seeing as he’d been the mastermind behind it. None of this was for Dean. It was to make sure Cas stayed at the top.

Dean drummed his thumb on the table and glared back at Crowley.

“I still say we need to put out a statement,” Gabriel said.

[writings-of-a-demigod]

Crowley heard the door open and the bell ring. You came into his sight dragging your feet, back hunched forwards.

“You don’t look good.” He pointed out.

“I don’t feel that good either.” Your voice was rough.

You groaned and laid on the floor of the bookshop “I just want to die.” Your face was flat on the floor.

“Oh don’t be that dramatic you’re gonna be fine.” He took his seat on the couch.

“I don’t feel fine bitch. I’m on the verge of death.” You told him.

“Well then don’t walk into the light.” He smirked.

“I don’t see the light but I do feel the heat. Wait does that mean I’m going to hell?” you raised your head his way and asked “Well it seems right with literally everything I did in my long slash short life.”

You took a deep breath “Goodbye you cruel world. You were always an asshole but I don’t blame you.”

“What in heaven’s name is going on in here?” the angel walked into the room seeing you laying on the ground and Crowley sitting on the couch with his feet up on the table.

“I’m dying Aziraphale.” You reached your hand up in his direction. Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses.

Aziraphale glanced at the demon and saw the smirk on his face, he just knew it was one of your dramatic breakdowns and sadly he’s the one who’s usually having to deal with you while Crowley was enjoying the show you put on.

“Don’t worry dear I’ll make it better.” He retreated to his backroom to make you your favorite hot coco with marshmallows and cinnamon.

“Did he just leave me here?” you turn your head towards Crowley who’s holding his laugh.

“Well what did you want him to do? drag your ass up?” he asked.

“Mmm yes?” you raised your eyebrow “or at least take pity, I am dying you know?”

The demon huffed “If it was up to me I would’ve dragged you outside and left you in the street.” He smiled.

“Thank God it’s not up to you.” You got up and dusted your clothes “You psycho.”

He just laughed at you. You took a seat next to him and sat crisscross then turned to look at him, he was watching your every move.

“Are you done with your dramatic mental breakdown?” he asked you.

You squinted at him “Shut up.” You told him and he laughed.

Aziraphale came back with more than just a cup of hot coco. He brought a basket that was filled with all the goodies that you liked.

“Here you go my dear enjoy.” He gave you a soft smile.

“Aziraphale you’re an angel.” You told him before digging in.

“Do you feel better?” the angel asked you.

“Much better.” You say with a mouth full.

a/n: Not my best but I needed to write something. The next one will take place out of the bookshop.

*gif not mine*

[vidavalor]

So if Aziraphale didn't know that Crowley had lost his flat... but then the show also establishes in 2.01 pretty early on that Aziraphale knows that Crowley is in frequent contact with Shax, even if Aziraphale doesn't personally meet her until "The Hitchhiker" then...

...does Aziraphale think that Crowley is living with Shax? lol

Does he see Crowley keeping the plants in The Bentley to protect them and getting plenty of use out of the bookshop by staying over more often as Crowley forced by Hell to have a terrible roommate?

Did he one time express sympathy to Crowley about how difficult it must be to lose his space and Crowley realized what he thought and that this was a good excuse? Did he start spinning yarns about Shax and how terrible it was, in case he ever got caught out napping in The Bentley around the corner from the bookshop?

Is Aziraphale secretly jealous that Crowley's shacked up with an apparently not hideous demon that Crowley might be bitching about just a *little too much* that makes Aziraphale wonder if he secretly likes her? Especially since Crowley's a traitor and he's staying there so she won't mind being seen with him and he's indicated he doesn't really hate her company and he's taken her to the park and is teaching her demon on Earth stuff and honestly...

...if I had been going through that since the lockdowns with the hot demon I loved and I was as adorably petty as Aziraphale is, I, too, would take the completely unnecessary step of leaving a gorgeous, amnesiac archangel wrapped in nothing but my blanket in my bookshop and having Crowley meet me in the coffee shop after the whole neighborhood had seen said archangel-- whom Crowley once called "beautiful" *on a date lol* in 1827-- show up on my doorstep in the nude and hug me hello, knowing that there was basically no human on earth who could resist mentioning that... only to *not tell Crowley why we were meeting in the coffee shop while we were actually *in* the coffee shop and, instead, bringing him back to get jump-scared by Gabriel wearing my tartan bedsheet around the bookshop*...all proving I just could have had asked Crowley to *come to the bookshop* and skipped the entire step of the coffee shop scene... meaning that it only exists to make Crowley a little jealous and let him think that someone stayed the night in the bookshop that wasn't him.

You got Miranda Richardson in a new costume, Crowley? Well, I got me himbo Don Draper. He's got his naked ass on my chair that you *live* to lounge around in and the sun's barely come up, my dearest.

Move your damn plants in, Crowley.

[analumina]

Ahhhh!!! I finally finished my Good Omens fic 😭 I've never written a long ass fic before. Allow me to shamelessly plug the first chapter here.

Summary:

Having read some interesting files as he was snooping around heaven, and after seven months of no contact, Aziraphale takes the elevator down to earth to inform Crowley of the dreadful news or rather happy news? Either way, congratulations, they have been ineffable parents since 1941, not to mention the looming apocalypse they must also worry about. Hooray?

________________________________________________

“Right.” Aziraphale said as he pushed his way into Crowley’s flat as if he had not broken the poor demon’s heart seven months prior. All Crowley could do was stare at the angel in confusion. “You still keep the drinks in the study?” The angel continued as he walked around like he owned the place.

Crowley’s brain was trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. Aziraphale was back? Just like that? What? How? And the most important question of all, why was the angel drinking straight out of the wine bottle instead of a glass?

After some minutes, or it could have been seconds, who was keeping count, the tall dark demon finally closed the door and approached the angel, his angel. The love of his life whom he had confessed to and been utterly rejected by. Brain finally catching up, Crowly huffed in annoyance and anger, approached Aziraphale and seized the wine bottle out of his manicured hands. “Wha –”

Aziraphale nodded uncontrollably. “Yes.” He breathed. “Yes, perfect. You take a big sip as well.” He let out a long exhale before taking back said bottle and, once again, took another long sip from it. He was not at all his posh self as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and passed the bottle back to Crowley, urging him to drink.

Crowley was too pissed and confused to obey. “What th –”

“I didn’t know it was possible.” Aziraphale chuckled like a mad man. “How can it, right? Why it – it was never… I mean…you know? And you…demon…and angel…the…the…yes…but here we are…and…what…oh, how was it possible?” At this point, Crowley had no idea if Aziraphale was talking to him or to himself. “Supposed it could be? Do you think…no…or rather yes...Maybe…

“Aziraphale!” Crowley’s voice was stern. “What the hell is going on?”

Aziraphale’s mind finally seemed to register where he was. He let his blue eyes wonder about Crowley’s flat. It was as if nothing had changed really. The dark and cold walls were still a contrast to his at the bookshop. The open space made it seem too sterile, too unwelcoming. The only attractive thing were the charming plants visible from the open wall panel. Suddenly, the air stilled as his eyes made contact with the other charming thing in the flat, Crowley.

The angel felt faint, though he was not sure if it was due to him trying to get used to his human self again or the fact he was seeing Crowley once again, or, and it could be the particular reason for his ramblings, the fact he needed to tell Crowley something he had uncovered as he snooped about heaven’s documents. Topic back on his mind, he reached for the bottle once more however and, unfortunately for him, Crowley managed to keep it out of his reach.

Seeing the worried expression painted on Aziraphale, “What’s wrong?” Crowley softly asked as the anger he had boiled inside for the past seven months seemed to evaporate completely.

Aziraphale licked his lips, “Oh, Crowley.” He launched forward and took the demon into his arms. Crowley’s brain seized to function once again until he felt Aziraphale tighten his grip around him. He relented and hugged the angel back, placing his cheek upon Aziraphale’s soft locks. “It – it’s horrible really.” Aziraphale whispered into Crowley’s chest. “Or rather…I do not know.”

“Did they hurt you?” Crowley tried to keep his tone soft, but it came out cold and unnerving. Aziraphale shook his head, still not wanting to face Crowley, it seemed. “What’s wrong then? ‘spose you finally figured out how much you missed earth’s delicacies? Or maybe you realized how much you missed me and how huge of a mistake was leaving me behind.” He chuckled. “It will take some time to forgive you but I will…eventually.”

“Crowley.”

“Fine. I forgive you.”

Aziraphale pulled back and tilted his head up. He took Crowley in. The demon had not changed much. His eyes were still that perfect shade of yellow, his grin still as playful as ever, his scent was still as magnificent as he recalled. His hair, well, it seemed he had let it grow out, reminding Aziraphale of the bun Crowley had fashioned back in 2013 or so. Secretly, it had always been his favorite style of his, apart from their time in Golgotha while Crowley was female presenting. Although, wasn’t his hair long there as well? “I…” he exhaled sharply, “Do you recall 1941, around the time when we were at the church and…”

“Oh, yes, the Nazi spies. Night of your magic show. Fell the Marvelous if I recall. Oh, Aziraphale, please don’t tell me you tried to show the other angels your magic tricks.” Crowly rolled his eyes. “That is definitely one way to get kicked out of heaven.”

“No, I –”

“Fine. You can show me your tricks if it will make you feel better.” Crowley sighed and ended their hug as he made his way to his sofa. He plopped down with a big huff and looked at Aziraphale up and down. “Go on then, amaze me.”

Aziraphale stood silent and unmoving for a second and with one big breath he finally uttered, “We have a daughter.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes, and nodded slowly, trying to understand the magic in the act until his brain called him an idiot and something clicked inside him, “…we whot?”

[imthebentley]

BENTLEY CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT THE SNAKE ASS? JUST HOW FLAT IS IT?

Non existant. Does not exist. Hovers an inch off the seat. No-butt-crowley. So flat you can use it to rest your paper on while playing boggle. So flat he's gotta pay ground rent. So flat it makes the orchestra conductor cry.