#dear mr gaiman i watched one gif of good omens why are you so right wing

[just-some-random-blogger]

You were sure to have found one by now, yet with the current economy, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it with the diner job you had, letting your other skills and talents be pushed aside.

“What’s the point? You practically have me to do all the work here for you,” Crowley mumbled, downing the rest of his wine.

you work ? 😒🧐🤡

Aziraphale sighed and bit his lip, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If you consider your work laying around here drinking, yes you do a fine job at that.”

that seems more like it

Crowley lifted his head, mock rage plastered over his face. “Better watch that tongue of yours angel, You know I love it so.” 

🧍‍♀️😨🫦 why he kinda

“Are you available now? I have cocoa biscuits and tea!”  “I don’t think I’m in any position to refuse your offer, Mr. Fell.” 

not to be dramatic but i would have dropped dead for aziraphale in that moment

“The weather is quite unpredictable is it not?” Another person appears from the shadows, encased in black, hair a lovely shade of red that makes you wish you could pull it off as well as them. They reach out their hand to you and you lean forward accepting it. 

hey 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

He motions for you to stand and you do so, while he drapes his black jacket over you.

he WHAT

“Oh, right, the infamous phone call. It practically made his day, [...]

it made his day 🥺🥺💔💔 hes so butter lover cutie pie

“It’s no trouble at all, we’ve not much going on, isn’t that right, Crowley.” “Right, whatever he said, that’s right.” the tall lanky figure grumbles, discarding a pile of books on the floor, making you wince at the thump they leave behind.

[...] hating to leave but you walk back into the rain in your borrowed coat that fits your form. You hadn’t remembered it fitting so well before, the universe worked in mysterious ways.

THE COATTTTT FITTTSSSSSSS YN WHATTT SOBBING DOES IT FIT THE WEARRRERRR WHATTT I

Joy fills your heart as you walk out the bookshop door Crowley holds for you and Aziraphale presses a kiss to your hand, wishing you well.

im fine

Time was cruel and a fickle thing. Two figures stand on a hill under a tree, leaning into each other, what others wouldn’t see is the phantom hand resting between their palms, one of a lover past, a companion dear to them slipping into another world.

The taller one carefully drapes a long coat around the headstone, the shorter one following suit with a bouquet of flowers. In their arms they find solace, the ghost of you a mere fragment of their millennia of existence but they would live it over and again if only to be with you.

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? you just suddenly KILLED YN? HUH WHY WHAT HUH WHY HUH WHAT HUH WHY>>?>> HELLO?

you literally didnt have to do that ???? HUHHHHWHY

whuda what did this make you happy???? I ????¿¿¿¿

anyway this was such a lovely read! i have to say if it wasn't plainly obvious that i have not watched good omens at all HAHAHAH idk i love michael sheen and david tennant and neil gaiman but i never got to watching this tho ur fic kindddddddaaaaaa makes me want to but also i know i wont cos i have like 1802480 shows and movies i 'want' to watch LMAO HAHAHA.

it honestly had me thinking 'have i reblogged that many good omen stuff HAHAHAH' but i figured you mostly tagged me because you wanted to!!! in which case i am honored <3 i give you a thousand kisses. i would read literally anything you want me to <3

Angel's Tea Under a Demon's Wing

Relationship: Aziraphale x reader x Crowley (Ineffable husbands x reader)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, hurt, comfort, soft Aziraphale, grumpy Crowley, domestic partners, deluge of rain, job insecurity, financial stress, and a brief mention of loss & death

Summary: Time is running out for you to find a job so you can stay afloat in your small London flat. In one last desperate attempt, you swallow your pride and hand out your resume around town, praying for a miracle. As luck would have it, Aziraphale is intrigued by you and offers a proposition, despite Crowley's protests.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.0k+

A/N: Cheerio my lovelies! I come bearing a gift for you all. I hope you enjoy some more ineffable husbands and . I adore them so and we could all use some comfort after season 2. Special thanks also to @novaracer for beta reading. Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Time had a cruel sense of humor, and it didn’t differ on any day like today, the skies trickling with rain, warning London of an impending storm. Yet, it didn’t tear you from your conquest in searching for a job.

You were sure to have found one by now, yet with the current economy, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it with the diner job you had, letting your other skills and talents be pushed aside. You couldn’t afford to do so much longer, for you ached to be out of your apartment finding purpose other than in the books you plowed through. 

You adored your quiet life, but something inside you wanted more and knew you could strive for it. 

That is how you found yourself with a stack of resumes in hand, sliding them into the mailboxes of local businesses, praying for a miracle you would get a response. Soon enough you dip into the coffee shop across the way from the last stop you made at a quaint bookstore that was oddly still in business.

You hadn’t mustered up the courage to peruse through the piles of books even though Maggie at the record shop insisted that her landlord and the owner of the bookshop, Mr. Fell, was sweet and meant no harm. Either way, you’d been too busy at the diner until now to consider applying for a job there. You hoped something would come around, but only a miracle could make it happen. 

******

Meanwhile, Aziraphale began his morning as usual with some hot chocolate and making a record of miracles in the like when Crowley stomped in, huffing while clenching a wrinkled piece of paper. 

“Awe come on, angel. Why are you doing this?” Crowley groaned.

 Aziraphale swiped the wrinkled paper from Crowley’s grasp. “It’s only hospitable to offer the poor dear a job. I mean, look at their credentials!” he exclaimed as he excitedly flipped through another page as if he were reading a great myth instead of a resume. 

“What’s the point? You practically have me to do all the work here for you,” Crowley mumbled, downing the rest of his wine. He stretched out on the couch again, his long lean legs draped over the arm, adding an extra bit of drama to any bit of furniture. The demon could not sit on anything properly to save his life. 

Aziraphale sighed and bit his lip, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If you consider your work laying around here drinking, yes you do a fine job at that.” Crowley lifted his head, mock rage plastered over his face. “Better watch that tongue of yours angel, You know I love it so.” 

“Well, then better make yourself useful and dust the books and tidy up your plants. We should expect a visitor within the hour.” Azi smiled warmly at his partner, giddiness filling his chest when Crowley pecked him on the cheek. 

“I’ll get right on it, angel.” 

******

You huffed, drowning down your third, or was it fifth? cup of coffee. You weren’t sure why you felt this way, the stress in your shoulders building the more you typed, your brain filling with words faster than you could write or type them down.  You’d been at Nina’s shop for an hour, most of it spent scrolling through job listings, though your search also included browsing some bookstores and a new computer you have been eyeballing for months.

Alas not much had come from your ventures, but you have to admit it was a good day to get out of the flat and enjoy the fresh air and the coziness of somewhere else other than your pit of despair. You could only stay inside with yourself and your mind for so long. 

Regardless, you enjoyed the quiet chatter, the drip of the machine keeping in time with your typing, and then a ping sounds from your phone. Your heart races, could this be it? 

“Hello?” A soft angelic voice inquires from the other end. “I was calling about your interest in a job. You see I’m Aziraphale, Mr. Fell as most call me, I own the bookshop across from Nina’s coffee shop. The…Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death that one, it’s hard to miss.  Would you be interested?” 

Would I be interested? Hell yes, you would after months of finding nothing that’d pay anything for manual labor you wouldn’t imagine anything better than sorting books all day. 

“Mr. Fell, that would be lovely. When do you want me to start?” You thrum your fingers on the table, not believing your luck. 

“Are you available now? I have cocoa biscuits and tea!” 

“I don’t think I’m in any position to refuse your offer, Mr. Fell.” 

“Lovely, it’s settled then. I’ll see you within the hour, yes?” His voice is warm, reminding you of an old friend and holding hands with a friend by the lake. It made you happier than you’d been in a while and when you set your phone back on the table, glancing at the bright light streaming in through the window despite the darkening clouds of the horizon, you know you won’t refuse this job; it’s almost too good to be true. 

******

“Oh boy, that doesn’t look good,” Crowley mutters, shoving piles of books into the shelves, trying to make the shop more presentable, as Azira put it. The sky outside darkened an alarming shade of gray and Crowley could practically hear the impending storm cackling in warning. 

Aziraphale sighs, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes. “Well, if worse comes to worst, we can stay in for the night and forgo the Ritz.” 

“You? Forgo the meal at the Ritz? The world must truly be ending!” Crowley exclaims, throwing himself back on the couch right as the first clap of thunder came down, the notable pitter-patter of rainfall following in its wake. 

Not a moment later, the doorbell rings, and there you are, a jacket plastered along your form, hair damp and you sneeze. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Fell.” 

******

“Gracious come in come in, Oh do sit down, let me take that for you!” The smaller man, Aziraphale you note, bustles around, offering you an armchair, which you sit in, groaning at the warmth. The deluge came out of nowhere, soaking you to the bone during the albeit dort walk along the street, but you ended up getting distracted at Maggie’s record shop, losing track of time as fate would have it you ended up an utter wreck at the job you’d accepted a meer hour before. 

“I’m so sorry for the state of my appearance, I should’ve brought an umbrella.” 

“The weather is quite unpredictable is it not?” Another person appears from the shadows, encased in black, hair a lovely shade of red that makes you wish you could pull it off as well as them. They reach out their hand to you and you lean forward accepting it. 

“Crowley, a pleasure to meet you. I see Aziraphale ran off before introductions.” He motions for you to stand and you do so, while he drapes his black jacket over you. It’s pleasantly warm, and you’re equally impressed with the black turtleneck and vest combination he’s currently sporting. 

You smile at the gesture. “I’m sure it’s for the tea. There was mention of it on the phone call.” 

“Oh, right, the infamous phone call. It practically made his day, though I insisted that he didn’t need to hire anyone, no don’t take it as a bad thing, necessarily. Nina and Maggie vouched for your character too so now you’re practically part of the block gang.”

“Crowley, are you interrogating our guest?” 

You pull the borrowed jacket closer around you trying not to shiver in a combination of nerves and excitement. The easy banter between the two of them makes you feel at ease and it comforts you how relaxed they are in each other's presence. If all your days could be spent with a gentle, quiet and constant companion by your side, then you couldn’t possibly want for more. 

“I am sorry for inconveniencing you.” you blurt out, Mr. Fell’s gaze meeting yours in quiet understanding. 

“It’s no trouble at all, we’ve not much going on, isn’t that right, Crowley.” 

“Right, whatever he said, that’s right.” the tall lanky figure grumbles, discarding a pile of books on the floor, making you wince at the thump they leave behind. 

That must’ve hurt, you grumble. 

“They’ll be alright” Crowley grumbles. 

Whoops, you had spoken that out loud. You clench your jaw, trying in vain to relax, the nerves flowing through you, making your stomach tie itself in knots despite your mind’s protests. 

“Crowley, I would appreciate it if you didn’t throw my books in that manner,” Mr Fell’s brow quirks, eyes lighting in quiet mirth as he leans over to whisper, “He does that when he’s grouchy.” 

“I assume it happens frequently, then.” 

“Usually when I irk him or someone else, which is at least three times a week or more.” 

Crowley scowls, “It’s not that frequent!” 

You smile at the easy banter between them, the way they brought you into this small sphere of their  world and it makes you feel less alone than you have had in months. You enjoyed this, the glances they tossed back and forth with the ease of old lovers, twin soulmates of the universe ancient in their own right. 

“Well then, I think it’s settled,” Aziraphale faces you, hands clasped, a smile gracing his lips. You burrow further into the jacket Crowley lent you from the deluge, nervous for the outcome. In the next moment, Aziraphale hands you cocoa, finalizing the matter, “I think we’ll get along just fine, my dear.”  

******

Countless hours later you’re sandwiched between them on a plush couch, Aziraphale (he insisted you didn’t have to call him Mr. Fell) with a book on his lap and Crowley with a drink in his hand. You’re halfway listening to the story Aziraphale tells, still delirious and in disbelief that you scored a job and somehow gained two companions you’ve felt you have known ages. The hours passed by quicker than you imagined and you didn’t want to leave. 

Months without a job and companionship have you linger in the doorway and you smile at them fondly, hating to leave but you walk back into the rain in your borrowed coat that fits your form.

You hadn’t remembered it fitting so well before, the universe worked in mysterious ways. But, you found a thread of hope, warmth, love and acceptance and you sure as hell aren’t letting go of it for anything.

Joy fills your heart as you walk out the bookshop door Crowley holds for you and Aziraphale presses a kiss to your hand, wishing you well. You don’t think you’ve been more excited for a job-or anything than you have now. No more moments you would take for granted now that you had them, a life complete and full of laughter and love. 

******

Time was cruel and a fickle thing. Two figures stand on a hill under a tree, leaning into each other, what others wouldn’t see is the phantom hand resting between their palms, one of a lover past, a companion dear to them slipping into another world.

Time could be cruel, but it had given an angel and a demon a mortal companion to care for alongside each other and blessing or cursing time, one thing is for certain, they were grateful for all the moments, no matter how limited, that they got to spend with you. And they had a silly little resume and a fateful deluge of rain to thank for it.

The taller one carefully drapes a long coat around the headstone, the shorter one following suit with a bouquet of flowers. In their arms they find solace, the ghost of you a mere fragment of their millennia of existence but they would live it over and again if only to be with you.

******