#good omens holidays swap
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Dear Neil,
I hope you're fine!
In 2023 one of the nicest and reveberating thing, that happened to me, was, that I got know Terry's work and after some time, your works too, and, of course Good Omens (yeah...I don't know either, what took me so long...😉).
So, thank you so much for your written universe, I feel totally comfortable in it!
Some time ago, I also got your rewriting of the fairytale "Hänsel and Gretel" by the Brothers Grimm in my hands. I totally like how you made it your own in some way, but also did not disregard its core about wits, endurance, gumption and love. And I have high standards😊, because I grew up with all the Grimm's fairytales and I, even as a small kid, disliked the editions, which tried to paint over fear, sorrow and in some tales, violence and horror, too. Without these plots the solution in the end would just be half the relìef! As you said in your review about Tatars The Annotaited Brothers Grimm the fairtyales are magic mirrors about the world we see or we want to see and which we have to cope and deal with every day.
My three favourite ones are
1.Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten/The Town Musicians of Bremen
Even if your closest people tell you, you are not enough (anymore), you don't fit in and you are worthless, you one day, will find your bunch of soulmates, who are good for you and you can the hell Rock'n Roll with!
2. Die sieben Raben/The seven Ravens
The girl does not wait for some Prince Charming. She herself gets stuff done and does not get herself haunted by some mistakes her parents did years ago.
3. Das tapfere Schneiderlein/The valiant dressmaker
Sometimes weird and spontanous decision can turn your whole life around, in a good way, because they give you the self-consciousness to get it on.
And (finally, sorry) here come my questions:
1. Which are your favourite fairytales of the Brothers Grimm?
2. And why?
I wish you and your family a very merry Christmas, or holidays, and a very good year!
Have fun with Good Omens 3! ❤🌠
Greetings from Germany!
I like your choices, although I'd swap Hansel and Gretel for the Musicians of Bremen.
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Airplane Mode (Spencer Reid x Reader)
A quick blurb about Spencer Reid and his SO finally getting a resort vacation! (Or holiday, because I’m a Brit and saying vacation feels weird). Insp by the slightly weird holiday I’m currently on lol | 1k fluff
Holidays were a bad omen for the BAU. Like complaining a night shift in a hospital is too quiet, or that it hasn’t rained in a while. Holidays meant something was bound to go wrong. So you’d waited until the very last minute to book the flights. Packed your suitcases two hours before leaving for the airport.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited to go away, or even to tell many friends you’d be on holiday.
The louder you said it, the more likely it was that Spencer would be called into work, and the whole thing would fall to the wayside in a series of frantic phone calls. Ultimately, it would only mean Spencer felt awful, and guilty, and it would have been better if you’d never planned anything in the first place. It wasn’t his fault, you couldn’t resent him for it, people’s lives were at stake.
But you were so excited for a vacation.
Even in the airport, as Spencer passed through security with the lazy, efficient movements of a weary regular flier, you’d been waiting for his phone to ring. For it to all be over. You’d held his arm in the airport lounge, waiting for the gate announcement, not daring to speak a word in case the universe heard you and Spencer had to jump on a different plane before yours had even taken off. Then there would be the arguing with the airline. The money lost, the forms for it to be refunded by the FBI, your bags missing because they were already packed deep into the hold of the plane.
You had clutched your coffee cup, already feeling dread and exhaustion overtaking you.
Then the plane had taken off. You hadn’t quite believed it. Spencer put his phone on airplane mode, and showed it to you.
“We’ve made it,” he whispered, through a smile, “it would be in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration regulations to take a call from work now.”
You shoved your face into his neck, and let yourself begin to feel excited.
The resort was one recommended by a colleague of Spencer’s, boring and relaxing, adults’ only and pleasantly quiet. There was a time and a place for exploring and excitement, but truly the thought of Spencer spending a single week away from work felt like excitement enough.
In the taxi from the airport, when Spencer had turned his phone back on and not received summons from Gideon, you finally let yourself utter the words:
“I can’t believe we’re on holiday.”
“I know!”
Spencer was giddy, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d heard him giggle, and it was so wonderful you had to pull his hand into yours and squeeze it.
“I am so excited to do nothing,” he admitted, though you knew his e-reader contained a small library’s worth of books.
“I just want to eat good food, and spend time with you.”
“I think I’m going to turn my phone off,” he said abruptly, as though he’d only just had the thought he could.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! Garcia knows where I am, if there’s a real emergency. That way I won’t feel like I have to check it all the time.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
He smiled at you, and you watched as he shot off a quick text to Penelope, before completely turning his phone off. For a moment there was silence, and you both waited, listening to the sound of rubber on tarmac and feeling the heat of the sun outside. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The realisation made you burst out laughing at the same time as Spencer, and you caught a flash of the driver’s backwards glance in the rear view mirror.
“You know what, mine too!”
You turned your phone off in solidarity, and stacked it beside his on the middle seat.
“Swap?” Spencer asked, offering you his phone, but you shook your head.
“Straight into the safe, when we get to the hotel. They can stay there.”
“That’s an even better idea.”
You knew, if it came down to it, if a life was at risk, he’d get the message from the hotel reception and go back to Quantico. That was okay. It was part of who he was, he needed the BAU, as much as they needed him.
There was a chain of people between that decision being made and Spencer finding out, including Gideon and Penelope, who would do everything in that power not to ask him. And that felt good.
For the first day, you let yourselves do only what you wanted to, to explore, to lie in bed, to read. Spencer needed the reminders not to watch every little thing that happened, not to examine poolsides and restaurants like they were crime scenes, but soon that went away and the frown in his brow was smoothed.
He wore swim trunks. He tried sips of your cocktail while floating in a pool. He laughed, and cried at one of the books he read, and ate properly, and let himself spend hours lying against your body in bed.
When you left the hotel, you both forgot your phones, and had to pay the taxi driver to turn around and get them.
“We should just leave them,” you’d joked breathlessly, as the receptionist concealed exasperation and politely led you to the room you’d just checked out of.
“That would be pointless, I’d just have to buy another one –” Spencer was distracted, following the receptionist, working out whether you’d miss the plane in the worst possible scenario.
You could see the stress in him, as the taxi driver waited outside with your bags, his meter running.
“Not if we stay here forever,” you teased, and finally saw the fall of his shoulders, the smile lines appearing on his face.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
Spencer made it a whole 24 hours after landing without getting on another plane, and you considered it a small victory. When he called you on the jet you could almost see him, skin a little bit more tanned, his hair still a little curlier from the sun and the chlorine.
“You’d better bring a souvenir, jet setter,” you teased, and imagined Spencer wrinkling his nose before he replied.
“We’re going to Milwaukee.”
#sowwy for the mobile formatting#i just got past the first Spencer’s mum episode i am a WRECK#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#13atoms#fic#fluff
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✨ Welcome to the Good Omens Gallery ✨
Celebrating and sharing fanart from all iterations and eras of Good Omens.
All art is tagged with themes, tropes, eras, etc., making art searchable by all of these factors using the links below. Art is tagged with as many factors as apply to a work. This means that when viewing the "wings" tag, for example, art that is also tagged for mature or nsfw factors may also show in results. Please keep this in mind when browsing by tags and block tags you do not want to see.
To search for art by artist, go to the Good Omens Gallery home page and input an artist's tumblr handle in the search field.
Tags on this post are specific to Crowley and Aziraphale. Additional tags are linked at the bottom of this post.
🎨
Crowley & Aziraphale
Crowley + Aziraphale 💛
Ineffable Wives (both femme presenting)
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ngk!
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Summer
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Because tumblr limits the number of links in a post, the following tag categories can be found at the link below.
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Good Omens Gallery Filter Tags, Part 2
#master post#pinned post#subject to update as I remember things#good omens gallery#good omens#good omens fanart#good omens edit#good omens gifs#good omens artists#good omens illustrations#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens art
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Another missile in the Smut War, going on at the @goodomensafterdark sub till Feb 14!
Set in England during Georgian/Regency time period. Crowley turns down Aziraphale’s offer of an Arrangement swap for a Northamptonshire holiday house party. Naturally Aziraphale turns up anyway to see what kind of especially evil wiles need thwarting.
Extra content notes: not exactly dubcon but I'm tagging it that way, as this fic does center around one person pretending to be someone else (spoiler: not very convincingly to the other party) and all the dubious morality that entails. Also featuring: darkness, sensory deprivation/enhancement, skin, lots of touching, graphic sex, anal sex, hand jobs, kisses, with some minor angst and pining.
#regency#good omens#ineffable smut war#ineffable husbands#aziraphale and crowley#good omens fanfiction
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My little trip is becoming more and more Good Omens Centric...
I swear, I think I'm going to call it my Ineffable Holiday. Firstly, of course, I've planned it around seeing David in MacBeth. Trying to break out of my 'Paddington rut', (and through the magic of British Airways and their payment plan holiday packages!) I have a hotel in Bloomsbury. 5 minutes from Tavistock 'Body Swap' Square, a hop to Soho, a skip to St James, and perhaps a jump (or two) to The Ritz.
OK, fine...
Next, I'm thinking at least one day trip outside of London. Someplace new, yet easy to to in a day, and not a lot of walking... OOh! I haven't been to Brighton since I was little - we're talking spade and pail and all the Grands are alive and well little. There's a 7 Sisters mini-van tour! Brilliant! It also explores the South Downs and the Devil's Dyke...
FINE.
I can't say I'm not excited - not by a long shot... but I wonder if I should ask for a small Tally's in the pub stop... Just because.
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That's Not How Temptation Works
That's Not How Temptation Works
by irisbleufic
"I suppose," ventured the angel, tentatively, "that it'd warrant no more notice than when we do standard swaps, would it?"
"Nope," said Crowley, relaxing a little. "You'd only be pointing them out to me. And giving pointers, of course."
Aziraphale chewed the inside of his cheek, seriously considering it.
"Heaven knows I've got the time. Given Gabriel's cancellation, I consider myself on leave. Your lot are being hard on everybody, it sounds like."
"I'm everybody," Crowley sighed, not even faking how pathetic he felt.
Words: 4000, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Dagon (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Dagon (Good Omens), Crowley & Humanity, Aziraphale & Humanity
Additional Tags: Falling In Love, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Conversations, Temptation, Epic Fail, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Heaven & Hell, Fallen Angels, Demons, Workplace Relationship, Work Performance Reviews, POV Crowley (Good Omens), POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Miscommunication, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Good Omens Holiday Exchange 2022
From https://ift.tt/7VsYFMg https://archiveofourown.org/works/45719911
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Happy Frideeeee!
I feel Regencyish today! So I’m gonna link the second fic I wrote in the GO fandom, because it was one of those rare (for me) things that popped into my head almost fully formed and felt like it wrote itself:
Crowley turns down Aziraphale’s offer of an Arrangement swap for a Northamptonshire holiday house party. Aziraphale turns up anyway to see what kind of especially Evil! wiles need thwarting.
(Nothing too objectionable but mind the tags!)
omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY
Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3
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Tropetember 2023
Enemies / Friends / Strangers To Lovers
Police / Detective / (Super)Hero // Crime / Mafia / (Super)Villain
Hurt/Comfort / Sickfic / Whump
Coffee Shop / Tattoo Parlour / Flower Shop / Other Retail AU
Rockstar / Actor / Model / Famous AU
High School / College / University AU / 80’s Teen Movie AU
Historical (Regency, Ancient Greece/Rome, Prehistory, etc) / Modern / Futuristic AU
Time Travel / Time Loop (eg. Groundhog Day) / Amnesia / Coma
5+1 / 3+1 (Five Times + One Time)
Accidental Confession / In Vino Veritas (Drunk Confession/Drunk Dial)
Business Partners To Friends To Lovers / Competitor Businesses / Office AU
Huddling For Warmth / Sharing A Bed / Touch Starvation
Slice Of Life / Domestic / Found Family
Monstrous (Human/Monster Romance) / Cultural Differences / Language Barrier
Marriage Of Convenience / Arranged Marriage / Matchmaking / Blind Dates
Future Fic / Reunion / Childhood Friends / Friendship Centric
Getting Together / Love Confession / First Kiss / Break Up/Make Up
Body Swap / Psychic Link / Soulmates / Bonding (eg. ABO, Sentinel AU, etc)
Apocalypse / Zombie / Locked In Together / (Natural) Disaster
Science Fiction / Fantasy / Space Opera / Horror
Genderswap / Rule 63 / De-Aging / Age Changes AU
Canon Rewrite / Fix-It / Everybody Lives / Everybody Dies / Major Character Death
Mythology / Supernatural / Fairytale / Wingfic
Accidental Baby Acquisition / (Single) Parent AU / Babysitting
Mutual Pining / Requited/Unrequited Love / Angst With A Happy Ending
Fake Dating / Didn’t Know They Were Dating / Accidental Dating / Accidental Marriage
Repression / Emotional Constipation / Sexuality Crisis (Gay Panic)
Holidays & Celebrations / Proposals / Prom
Fusion / Crossover / Harlequin / Rom-Com (eg: Hogwarts, Pacific Rim, Daemons, Hunger Games, The Princess Bride, Pride & Prejudice, Love Actually, 10 Things I Hate About You, etc)
FREE SPACE
you can tell that a man is good if he has a dog that loves him - good omens (ineffable husbands)
Every Caregiver deserves a Little or Pet of their own. If you ask Soho, there's no one more deserving than Mr. Fell. 30. FREE SPACE - BDSM!AU
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The Badger and The Snake On Their Own Team
A Good Omens Holiday Swap dedicated to @kaiisen, I hope you enjoy it!!
Where Prefect Aziraphale has a lot on his hands with one particularly rowdy Hufflepuff, while Head Boy Gabriel and Head Person Belzeebub take bets.
Available on AO3
Aziraphale doesn’t often use the infirmary, but he can feel a headache building up.
“Would you care to explain how exactly did you manage to do … that?”
Crowley stands where he is, arms crossed behind his back and still managing to look like he’s posing for “Witches Weekly”.
“I didn’t do a single thing, Prefect,” Crowley replies, pushing back his glasses on top of his nose.
“No, no, of course not,” Aziraphale says, standing in a huff and walking around the other student. “No, what was I thinking? Of course, you are not responsible for all the plants in the greenhouse suddenly refusing to be cut for potions!”
A small smile appears on Crowley’s face. “So that’s the whole hubbub.”
Aziraphale stops to glare at him. Were it anybody else, Crowley would probably crumble under the weight of that look. As it is, he merely raises an eyebrow at Aziraphale.
“Yes, dear, that’s the whole hubbub, as you put it.”
“And tell me,” Crowley says, lowering his voice, “oh great Slytherin prefect, who made it so I could enter the greenhouse and convince the plants to indulge in some rebellion, hm?”
Aziraphale straightens up, arranging his tie. “I don’t have the slightest idea.”
“Thought so.”
“I suppose I don’t have any proof that you did anything wrong.”
“My hands are clean, honest!”
“Don’t push it.”
“No, Sir, Aziraphale, Sir.”
“Get out of here.”
“Astronomy tower, after dinner.”
Aziraphale allows himself a smile. “Where else would I be?”
Crowley beams at him before running out of the Prefect room, yellow and black robes flying in the wind.
Aziraphale shakes his head. Whatever is he going to do with the impossible boy?
“How did it go?”
“Ah!”
Aziraphale nearly falls off his chair in his shock at hearing the Head boy’s voice coming through their joined door.
“Did I scare you?” Gabriel says with a smirk, entering the room. “Were you doing something against the rules?”
“Me? No, no, you know me, Gabriel,” Aziraphale replies, composing himself. “Never a toe over the line, all rules and no foolery, that’s me.”
“Right.”
“Did you, um,” Aziraphale offers Gabriel his most angelic face, “did you want something?”
“Just to see how your side of the investigation on the greenhouse was going,” Gabriel says, looking at his cuticles. “We wouldn’t want the teachers to get involved, would we?”
“Oh, um. No. Certainly not. That would be disastrous indeed.”
“Apocalyptic, even,” the Head Person’s drawl resonates from their office behind Gabriel.
“Ah, Beelzebub, hi. Quite, yes.”
“The other prefects are scouring the school, trying to figure out who enchanted the plants. We hope you do your part, too, Aziraphale.”
“You can count on me. I’m on it. Absolutely tickety boo.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes before returning to his shared Head office.
Aziraphale lets himself drop in his chair with a sigh. So. Much. Pressure.
“Newie?”
A house-elf appears in front of him. “Master Aziraphale, what can Newie do for you today?”
“If it’s not too much to ask so close to dinner,” Aziraphale asks with a smile, “could you bring me a little brioche to nibble on?”
“With a cup of cocoa, Sir?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“How many times does Newie need to tell you not to thank Newie? It’s insulting.”
“Sorry, sorry. Hard habit to break.”
The elf shakes his head, snapping his fingers. He disappears and then reappears, carrying a golden brioche and a large mug of cocoa.
“Th--That will be all, Newie. See you later.”
“Yes, Master Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale checks the doors for no more intrusion before settling in his chair, his copy of the “Guide to Advanced Transfiguration” opened on his lap.
Now this is how he was supposed to spend his Saturday afternoon.
~~~~
Crowley doesn’t immediately return to the Hufflepuff common room.
He should, he knows, but he wants to pay someone a little visit first.
“Oh, Hastur,” he singsongs as he enters the Ravenclaw common room.
“Crowley,” the younger boy sneers. “How did you get in here?”
“That riddle was ridiculously easy to solve,” Crowley replies, sprawling himself over an armchair. “You should tell your door to make it a real challenge.”
“In case you forgot, first years need to be able to open it.”
“Like you care about the munchkins.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But the principle stands.”
“Riight. ‘Cause you’re so big on principles.”
“I am. Now, can you tell me why you’re here?”
“To get the fruits of our bet.”
Hastur straightens up, putting his quill aside. “Our--our bet?”
“Yep.”
“You did it?”
“Yep.”
“You found a way to stop the Potion class without touching the cauldrons?”
Crowley takes Hastur’s quill and transfigures it into a lollipop. “Yep.”
“How? Did you,” Hastur leans forward, looking far too excited for what comes out of his mouth next, “did you curse the Potion Master?”
“What? No! I convinced the plants to fight against being cut. No plants, no potion ingredients, no potions.”
“That’s not really dark magic.”
“That wasn’t in the bet.”
Hastur groans before sighing. “Fine, fine, you won. Here you go.” Hastur takes his parchment and snaps his fingers. His homework turns into an order form he immediately fills in. “A year subscription for chocolate frogs?”
Crowley stands, hands in his pockets immediately as he saunters out of the room. “Yep.”
~~~
Dinner is far too slow for Aziraphale’s taste, and that is saying something, since it’s one of his favorite moments in the castle.
But still, slow. Too slow for his taste. Aziraphale has half a mind to use his Time-Turner forward.
“Now that we all enjoyed this feast, an announcement,” the Headmaster says. “Until a different announcement, the greenhouse is absolutely forbidden to all students. Your Herbology teacher is in the midst of negotiating an agreement with the plants to get the proper ingredients needed for the potions classes. Until then, well, Potion and Herbology will be replaced by study hours in each common room. We trust the prefects and older students to help the younger ones.”
Aziraphale groans, because he has no intention of staying in the common room with a bunch of noisy first years, but everybody will expect him to do so because he has the badge on his chest.
But one glance across the table is enough for him to drop his head to his chest: Gabriel’s meaningful glare leaves no room for loopholes and arrangements.
A small note slithers up to him.
“Don’t worry, angel, you can hang out with me for those periods. A.C.”
Aziraphale folds the note in his hand and looks across the table to the Hufflepuff one, where Crowley doesn’t look in his direction. Still, Aziraphale knows that Crowley knows, because he tilts his glass in the Slytherin table’s direction as if toasting something.
The time they will get to hang out, experience on spells and take advantage of the kitchen proximity, for starters.
Aziraphale smiles to himself, lifting his own glass.
He can’t be sure, of course, given the sunglasses on Crowley’s nose and the distance, but he’s certain that Crowley smiles back.
~~~
The Astronomy Tower is many things: ancient, perfectly organized for observing the night skies, high (oh so high) but most nights, it’s not a place of learning; it’s Hogwarts Smooch Spot central.
Which is absolutely not why Crowley and Aziraphale meet there every other night.
Absolutely not.
(Too cold for either of them to stand sitting on the stony ground. Nope. They like their comfort, thank you very much.)
No, they choose to meet at the top of the tower because of the one subject they both love above all else.
Astronomy.
Crowley likes to watch the moves of stars, bringing in Muggle observations of Space to get one more dimension of studies.
Aziraphale likes to look at their patterns, not really caring about the scientific sides of it but loving to bring Mythology and Magic History into it, because astronomy does spell the past from which astrology extracts the future.
So they spend far too long in a corner of the Tower--the one most exposed to the Scottish winds, because of its relative state of abandon--, looking at the stars and drawing their own conclusion.
At first, they would bring thermos of hot cocoa or tea, but ever since the end of their sixth year, the two boys may have decided to spike their drinks.
For example, tonight, Aziraphale brought a blend of chamomille tea and firewhisky.
What can he say, he likes to experiment.
When Crowley successfully registered as an animagus, they celebrated with a bottle of wine.
Long story short, not much observation was done that particular night, though Aziraphale is sure that they discovered a new constellation.
It may have been shaped like Crowley’s animagus form, but hasn’t everyone heard of a snake-shaped constellation?
Unbeknownst to them, their astronomy nights have attracted some people’s attention.
Namely, the two head students.
See, Gabriel and Beelzebub started coming to the Astronomy tower long before they were nominated Head Boy and Head Person.
And not to look at the stars.
But ever since Aziraphale and Crowley have started coming up on the Tower after dinner, the two older students find themselves very interested in observing them.
Just as Aziraphale and Crowley always bring drinks with them to keep warm during their observations, Gabriel and Beelzebub always bring snacks to munch on while studying them.
It’s not just innocent observation really. Ever since they started their little spying, Gabriel and Beelzebub have taken a bet.
How long will it take either of these morons to realize that the bond between them goes far beyond friendship and act upon that realization.
Which one will have the first epiphany about their own feelings.
Or about the way the other feels.
(Of course, their bet is rigged from the start and they don’t even know it; both Crowley and Aziraphale already know how they feel.
They’re, however, fairly oblivious to the way the other feels; that much is worthy of a bet for certain.)
“They’re drunk,” Beelzebub chuckles, their mouth full of pumpkin pasties.
“Are you drunk?”
“Maybe.” Beelzebub shrugs. “It’s cold, and the alcohol keeps me warm.”
“I could keep you warm.”
“You could, and yet you don’t. What are you thinking, Gabe?”
Gabriel sighs, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around Beelzebub. Their size difference makes the scarf really big on the Gryffindor, but Gabriel thinks they look adorable in green and silver.
He says so, and earns himself a mighty punch to the arm.
“Ouch.”
“I am not adorable,” Beelzebub hisses.
“No, of course not, sorry.” Gabriel pulls them against him. “You’re my enemy,” he says, pressing a kiss to their lips, “and I hate you.”
“Better,” Beelzebub mutters before wrapping their arms around his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss.
On the other side of the Tower, Aziraphale and Crowley share a look of awkward disgust at seeing the older students in such an embrace.
“Eugh.”
“You owe me fifteen sickles.”
“And you owe me my sanity back.”
“Call it even?”
“Deal.”
~~~
After two weeks, the plants do agree to let the Herbology teacher and few, selected students to cut what is needed for the potion classes, in exchange of a stroll in the natural sunlight every other day and a nourishment of Bordeaux and cognac.
Who knew magical plants had an alcoholic tendency?
“Crowley, not now.”
Crowley snaps his mouth shut, privately gloating about the fact the he knew that the plants in the greenhouse wanted to be fed something else than rainwater, that it was his whole theory since Third year--well, his conclusion after talking with them rather than a theory, but it’s not like he’s going to divulge this particular ability to anyone, is he now.
“Apocalypse averted, then,” Aziraphale tells him during one of their strolls around the lake, one of the plants happily sitting in a wheelbarrow they are moving forward with their wands.
“For now,” Crowley replies with a smile. “Until the next one.”
“Please, dear boy, don’t be the reason for that next one.”
“Me? I would never, angel.”
Aziraphale rolls his eyes at the nickname, his free hand reaching up to pet his nearly white curls.
The very reason for that nickname, back when they met at King’s Cross.
~~Seven years ago~~
“I hope I did the right thing,” Aziraphale mutters to himself after managing to turn a piece of paper into an apple for the starving girl at the station.
“Where is your train ticket?”
A soft voice pulls him from his thoughts. The boy must have his age, dressed in unmarked robes. His eyes are a remarkable amber shade, close to gold.
“Uh?”
“Your train ticket,” he repeats, lifting up his own ticket.
Aziraphale goes to take it from his pocket and that’s when he realizes that the piece of paper he used was, in fact, his train ticket.
“I gave it away.”
“You whaaat?”
“I gave it away!” he cries out. “I didn’t mean to but she needed it and--oh dear Merlin, what am I going to do?”
The boy looks at him with a small smile before tapping his own ticket with his wand. The ticket splits into two tickets, one of which he holds up for Aziraphale.
“I’m Crowley.”
“Oh. Um. Thank you. I’m Aziraphale.”
“Are you an angel?”
“Sorry, what?”
Crowley points at his hair. With the light coming down from the enchanted ceiling, Aziraphale golden curls do look whiter than usual.
“Oh. No. No, I’m not a, an angel. Just … me.”
Crowley’s smile widens. “You still look like an angel to me.”
~~Back to the present~~
“You’re never going to let that nickname die, are you?”
“Why would I?” Crowley says, bumping into Aziraphale. “You still look like an angel to me.”
“Even though I’m a Slytherin?”
Crowley snorts. “You try to act like you’re holier than thou, but the Magic Hat saw though that, Angel. You’re just enough of an ambitious bastard to belong in that house.”
“And what does that say about you, uh? Trying to act all blasé and edgy, but you are a Hufflepuff. Deep down, that means that you’re n--”
“Don’t use that four letter word, please.”
“Okay.” Aziraphale holds his hands up in surrender. “But still. At heart, you are just a little bit of a good person.”
Crowley opens his mouth and shuts it. “I suppose.”
“I wouldn’t have you be any other way, you know?”
Crowley glances at Aziraphale. There is a faint blush covering his cheeks, and his smile is … shy? Could it be?
“No?” he teases, trying to cover the way his heart is accelerating in his chest. “You wouldn’t want me to be, I dunno, stronger? A Slytherin? Less of a troublemaker, perhaps?”
Aziraphale laughs at that. “Now, that would be a great relief, yes,” he replies. “But I think that would be too much to ask.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Besides, it’s not exactly troublemaking,” Aziraphale continues. “You’re simply … questioning the way things have been done for centuries, and it all snowballs from there.”
“Exactly. What is wrong with a few questions?”
“A few? Nothing. Everything? Can be a problem.”
Crowley laughs. “Can be fun though.”
“A lot of fun.”
They pause and look at each other.
And burst out laughing, pausing the wheelbarrow to gather their breaths.
(The plant doesn’t mind. They’re by the lake, the Sun is shining, birds are singing in the branches, the Giant Squid is playing with the students brave enough to try and swim.
All is good on the Hogwarts grounds, for now, and the Plant is determined to take advantage of it.)
They stop laughing, breathless and rosy-cheeked.
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, ha--yes, my dear?”
“I wouldn’t have you any other way either.”
Crowley’s voice is soft when he says those words, and that’s enough for Aziraphale to stop laughing and consider him.
“You--you wouldn’t?”
“No. To me, you’re--,” Crowley gulps and seems to strengthen himself. “You’re perfect, just the way you are.”
“Not--not stronger, or slimmer, or--”
“No! Don’t ever dare to change, Aziraphale.” Crowley takes the step separating them. “Everything about you, from your cunning to your sense of style to your taste for sweets, everything is just … perfect.”
Aziraphale is at loss for words, and his heart is obviously trying to escape to dive into the lake.
“Angel?”
“Crow-Crowley, I--that is to say, I--”
“Yes?”
“Ditto.”
“Ditto?”
Aziraphale rolls his eyes and pulls Crowley in for a deep, rough kiss. “Don’t make big declarations and then expect me to manage words, okay?”
Crowley is quiet, dizzy from the kiss.
All he can do is pull Aziraphale back in.
(The plant really doesn’t mind being forgotten. It has kind of voyeuristic tendencies, to the inconvenience of its brethren in the greenhouse. Humans are so much more interesting.)
#good omens holidays swap#sometimes i write#good omens au#hogwarts au#ineffable husbands#ineffable bureaucracy#hufflepuff!crowley#slytherin!aziraphale#slytherin!gabriel#gryffindor!beelzebub#fluff
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the desire for certain pleasures (is a part of my pain)
I was very excited to be a pinch-hitter for the @goodomensholidayswap! This is a gift for @forlorn-kumquat. One of their prompts was "Aziraphale loves playing with Crowley's hair. Crowley loves having his hair played with. They can't actually talk about this like functional ethereal beings, and they think this level of contact is all they're allowed to have/want, so they keep inventing excuses to be able to touch/be touched by the other" which is the sort of thing I go absolutely batshit feral for.
Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Ineffable Husbands Rating: E Word count: 4k Summary: The one where Aziraphale can't stop touching Crowley's hair (to Crowley's great delight). Read it on AO3!
#ineffable husbands#ineffable husbands fic#ineffable husbands fanfic#good omens#good omens fic#good omens art#good omens fanart#fanart#fanfic#mine#mine-fic#daz3d#aziraphale#crowley#goodomensholidayswap#good omens holiday swap
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Oh, the weather outside is frightful But the fire is so delightful And since we've no place to go Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow~
My @goodomensholidayswap piece for @mandysimo13! Some soft domestic winter time coziness for you all to enjoy ♥
my art
#Good Omens#ineffable husbands#Aziraphale#Crowley#Christmas#holiday swap#brainyraccoons draws#Crowley is just staring off into the distance thinking about how lucky he is
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Board Games, monopoly, sexy Monopoly, American Monopoly board sorry, the agony of landing on Boardwalk with 2 hotels, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary:
Written for the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Facebook group's Holiday Swap 2020. Prompt: Game night in the backroom becomes sexy games. For @shipping-vaguely-downwards, an author whom I adore.
Thank you very much to the Swap mods for all their hard work!
Find me at DannyeChase.com and on my linktree
#Dannye writes#good omens#Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20#holiday exchange
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My pinch hit for @bigleosis for the Good Omens Holiday Swap.
Prompts were: Wings, lingerie, romance, fluff
This was really fun and I hope you like it!
#aziraphale#crowley#good omens#ineffable husbands#go holiday swap 2019#good omens holiday swap 2019#my art#making an effort#lime#bigleosis
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I signed up to pinch hit for @goodomensholidayswap and this is my finished piece for @journalsofagoddess! I hope you like it, dear. Many apologies for being late, I completely misread the dates and thought today was posting, but it was actually yesterday!
I will never get tired of these two being soft and in love.
#good omens#good omens holiday swap#ineffable husbands#good omens fanart#my art#tifaria draws gomens
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Tag Game: AO3 and fic writing!
Tagged by @cheeseplants and @dbacklot99 💖💖
How many works do you have on ao3? 24
What's your total ao3 word count? 303,167 with big collabs! But without those, I clock in at 170,775. 👀
What fandoms do you write for? Good Omens currently, but have written in Stargate Atlantis, Firefly, and Battlestar Galactica as well as one classic film fic.
Top five fics by kudos:
Not including the big collabs, and all Good Omens (E, NSFW):
A Sixty In Nine Saves Time
Aziraphale reads the wrong book, uh oh! Feeling responsible (or maybe just titillated), Crowley tries to lend a hand.
Takedown / Reversal
After their near miss in 1941 with a bullet, Furfur, and Nazi zombies, Aziraphale and Crowley retire to the bookshop for a mellow evening of too much wine. Unfortunately, someone is wearing quite the saucy fedora, and someone else takes quite a fancy to it. Obviously wrestling and banging and angst must ensue. Bittersweet ending with a 1955 followup. (inspired by @gleafer arts!)
Shake Like Hell and Spell Success
Set after S1/Armageddon. Newly smitten (I believe), Aziraphale tries to create the perfect first-time scenario but has difficulties. As usual, Crowley doesn’t know what’s going on until he does, and then he knocks it out of the park on his first swing, because, demon? There's lingerie involved.
Wooing Peaceably
Sometime after the Second Coming, Crowley and Aziraphale are visiting Crete during olive picking season. A little bit of happiness (and smut) after too long. Olives olives olives and olive oil!
An Arrangement in the Dark
England during Georgian/Regency time period. Crowley turns down Aziraphale’s offer of an Arrangement swap for a Northamptonshire holiday house party. Naturally Aziraphale turns up anyway to see what kind of especially Evil! wiles need thwarting.
Do you respond to comments? Absolutely! Like all of us I adore comments. Someone liking a fic I wrote enough to say so is such a great feeling.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Definitely Takedown / Reversal, although I tried to soften it with a follow-up. Not sure if that worked. 😆 Also Impersonal (Firefly, Inara/Zoe) is a bit angsty but hopeful.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think a lot of my fics have pretty happy endings! Maybe It's the Edge of the World As We Know It?
Do you get hate on fics? Not yet...
Do you write smut? Yes ma’am
Craziest crossover: nothing super wild? Most GO fic features some kind of fun historical reference or person (without feeling like RPF to me since they’re usually long dead, but essentially…) @angelictroublemaker and I wrote a Firefly/SGA crossover and that was about as wild as I got.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge 👀
Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet!
Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! My first ever fic was cowritten with @angelictroublemaker and I’ve done more collabs within Good Omens fandom. My fave so far is a big ol project with @dbacklot99 and @sixbynine-da ❤️. The others:
Coming Home - A Choose Your Own Adventure Story
Interdimensional Leakage
Keeping it in the Vault (and its less-hairy counterpart)
All time favorite ship? I love Aziraphale/Crowley so much. I have lots of other favorite ships from fandoms I've read but not written in, though.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably one of my Human AU bits from the Guild Thursday sprints: Aziraphale as wedding planner/Crowley as floral designer, or Aziraphale as photography dabbler/Crowley as Some-Eldritch-Thing-Or-Other he (Az) starts capturing on film. And just typing these out makes me want to work on them now, so NEVER SAY NEVER.
What are your writing strengths? Description, grammar(ish), dialogue, smut (I hope. I like to write it and rewrite it at least).
What are your writing weaknesses? Description 😳 Also I have to really work on movement of plot (if I actually manage to have one, instead of events that happen for Purposes of Smut) and pacing.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Perfect for Good Omens in my opinion. I like it overall.
First fandom you wrote in? I wrote a (disavowed) Mary Sue-insert fic for Star Trek Voyager in a notebook when I was a youngun. My first posted fic was for Battlestar Galactica.
Favorite fic you've written? I really like how To Ride a Journey on a Jade turned out, and also Sea Change. I also am loving working on Sins of Knowledge, although the size of it is intimidating to me.
And also whichever one I'm finishing up at the moment! Right now that's a Pride Exchange fic that I'll share (if the giftee is willing) this Saturday, and an angsty Doppelbanging fic that may or may not see light of day.
Tagging: @angelictroublemaker, @lemon-tart-221, @ghst-signal, @ladybracknellssherry, @demonsandpieohmy and anyone else who wants to play!
#fic memes#fic tag games#writing#my writing#ao3#good omens fanfiction#give me prompts btw#who needs sleep or life or family time
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Largest Collusion in Soho
Largest Collusion in Soho by D20Owlbear A birthday fic for @atmilliways
Crowley, Aziraphale, a couple of bottles of wine and mutual revelations.
Truly, the idiots of a generation every generation.
“Di– did’ju know,” Crowley slurred, waving his empty wine glass in the air to make his point, one foot thrown over the back of the couch, the other foot resting perpendicular on his knee, and head in Aziraphale’s lap, “A baby water deer ‘s so small ya can hold it in yer palm hand?”
Aziraphale snorted inelegantly into his own glass, which had much more recently had a refill of a delightful champagne Crowley had brought over. “Can’t be, deers ‘re large.”
��I heard it!” Crowley growled, throwing his hands in the air in a mockery of frustrated disgust at not being believed, even as he looked up at Aziraphale and watched with shining eyes as the angel took a large drink of his wine.
“You’ve heard lots, dear boy,” Aziraphale crooned, patting the side of Crowley’s head.
The demon rather immediately forgot what he was trying to convince Aziraphale of and with a sighed, “Tiny ones, wif fangs…” he nuzzled into the palm of Aziraphale’s hand. The stem of the wine glass cracked above him and Aziraphale nearly dropped his drink.
“Oh– my dear,” Aziraphale murmured, unable to keep his own eyes off Crowley’s face and raking over his body with a fire alighting in his stomach at the lanky form laid out on his couch like a feast.
“Mhrmm?” Crowley mumbled, opening an eye to look up at Aziraphale, unusually glad he wasn’t looking at his face because he’d have no way to hide the utterly soppy, smitten look in his eyes with his sunglasses halfway across the room.
“Did you feel that?” Aziraphale listed to one side and then the other, as if he were trying to pinpoint something, before leaning forward enough to knock Crowley off his lap and onto the floor. “Oh. Very sorry, my dear.”
“Hmrng?” Crowley sat up, mussed haired and wobbly. Aziraphale made eye contact and Crowley made another noise, this one more impossible than the first. “Yeah, prob’ly. Feelin’ somethin’.”
Crowley stood, pushing himself up with help of the couch and Aziraphale’s shoulder, and staggered over into the bookshop proper. Aziraphale blinked stupidly and followed. The gentle, sweet feeling of love was coming from there that he’d felt.
“Oh I know you can’t feel it, dear,” Aziraphale laid his hands on the shelves and trailed his fingers along the not-really-dusty wood. “But there’s a feeling of love, so much, and so big, I didn’t even feel it until I, well, hiccuped.”
“Hiccuped, angel?” Crowley drawled with something like a half-hearted sneer as he tried his best to keep looking, working his way around the shop in a counterclockwise fashion to Aziraphale’s clockwise. “Funny though, didn’t look for it ‘till ya said something. Know ‘t’s Soho ‘n all, but lots a lust goin’ on around here. Big thing too.”
They slowly searched for the epicenter of their respective Big Ones until they met up in the middle of the shop. The demon and the angel blinked slowly at each other with understanding slowly coming through drink-drowned heads.
“You!” They pointed and shouted. Crowley’s lips were pursed and his shoulders hunched until he looked quite a bit like an accusatory gremlin and Aziraphale’s hair and clothing had puffed up a bit in his search, which left him looking not unlike a particularly prim owl in his over-large spectacles he liked to wear for the look of it.
“Darling,” Aziraphale began, “but demons don’t feel love?”
Crowley’s jaw worked uselessly before stepping closer and jabbing his finger at Aziraphale’s nose, “Angels don’t feel lust!”
Aziraphale only shook his head minutely with the sort of look on his face that spoke of honest confusion at the stupidity of people.
The two of them fell to the floor, laughing uproariously, beside each other in relief and joy from their mutual revelations tonight. And suddenly their mouths were on each other, shirts torn and buttons went flying.
One of the largest collusions of love and lust on Earth came together with a bang.
Check out my AO3 for more writing or tip me a coffee!
#My writing#writing#Short Fic#fanfiction#fanfic#good omens#GOmens Holiday Swap#good omens fanfic#good omens fanfiction#666 fic#666 words#moron4moron#morosexual#Aziraphale#Crowley and Aziraphale#crowley#crowley good omens#aziraphale/crowley#these fucking idiots
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