#i love you air conditioning

[stargod]

Yippeeeeeee woohooooo da powers back im no longer a human puddle yayyyyyy

[some-siren]

Still thinking about how Aziraphale went to Monsieur Rossignol’s night classes almost 30 years before the French Revolution. Like.

You’re telling me Aziraphale "Had to learn French (the language of love) the hard way, came to France dressed fancy during what was essentially a bloodbath to 'eat crêpes' but got imprisoned and couldn’t free himself because ´Gabriel sent him a rude note', waited for his demon to come rescue him just so he could take him on a date" Fell knew French the whole time?

King you really have to stop making elaborate plans just to have a date with Crowley

[acebytaemin]

no matter what taemin is taemin and don’t you FORGET IT

[satandoesntwannabehere]

**SHAKES YOU*

WHO GAVE YOU THESE GOLDEN HANDS

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY YOUR USERNAME

EITHER GOD OR SATAN GAVE YOU THESE POWERS

CUZ I CAN'T BELIVE A NORMAL PERSON HAS THIS MUCH POWER

/POSITIVE AS FUCK

SWNDING YOU MANY KISSES

**ISSHAKENTOOTHECORE**

[butchtwelfthdoctor]

Crowley reads books (a fanfiction)

summary - Crowley has been reading books for years, but Aziraphale has only just noticed. under 2000 words, nothing too angsty.

this is the first fic i've ever written and if you want to ask me anything about it please do i'll be delighted to answer you questions :D

Crowley was draped across the couch as usual, both legs over the armrest and one arm dangling off the side. The warm evening light was still glowing gently through the window, the last beams of summer sun illuminating the dust in the air. The bookshop was peaceful, still and reddish-warm. Aziraphale was in the storeroom trying to find a particular book he’d just remembered about, and it was late enough that no one was even going to bother checking if they were open–no one was going to interrupt. It was a warm evening, and the window was open a little. There was distant street noise, the eternal hum of Soho, and vague chatter from the restaurant, but everything was soft and muffled.

These last few years the bookshop had become haven-like for them both, for Crowley especially–a place he could hide away, not have to worry so much about anything outside. Not have to hide himself under dark glasses and swagger. Especially since the lockdowns, he’d spent increasing amounts of time there–sure, he’d miracled the Bentley bigger on the inside, but he got bored (and lonely, they both did, though he could scarcely admit it to himself) and so when he simply showed up at the bookshop, it only took him a few minutes of convincing before he got Aziraphale to let him in (he did wonder, though, if Aziraphale had been waiting for him–hoping he would come? It had hardly been a convincing and more Aziraphale agreeing ‘well, now that no-one’s looking’). And after that–well, he went back to the Bentley to sleep, to spare himself the experience of Aziraphale offering that he could stay the night, but he did spend most of his days there. And he parked the car two minutes away. Just in case. 

Crowley turned a page of the book he was reading. He’d found it on a shelf a few days ago, buried in Aziraphale’s somewhat baffling filing system. Crowley could usually find things in the shop, but every time he thought he had it he’d find a book in the randomest spot and have to reconsider that opinion. 

Aziraphale bustled down the staircase holding a dusty blue volume, looking rather pleased but with a hint of the manic glint in his eye he’d get when he was in the middle of some research project. 

‘Found it, excellent, there’s a few pages near the end of this one and then I just have to find the–’ He glanced at Crowley and then looked back, fully staring.

‘Are you– are you reading a book?’ the angel sounded genuinely astounded.

‘Mhhmnh, yeah, I started it the other day’ said Crowley, leaning the book down on his chest for a moment. ‘It’s quite good, it’s about this guy who–’

‘Reading, Crowley? Really?’ Aziraphale said in shock.

‘What, I thought you liked reading?’ Crowley replied, not sure if he was supposed to sound confused or jokey. 

‘Well yes obviously I like– but that’s not the point! I didn’t know you read!’

‘Well, nhm,  you never asked,’ he replied, trying to keep a nonchalant tone at the angel’s fluster.

‘I didn’t think I needed to ask, I thought I would know something like this. Reading, really, and you never told me,’ Aziraphale said, gesturing at the book Crowley was holding, then looked off to the side a little.

Crowley sat up a bit, suddenly more serious, swinging his legs over the couch and putting the book down. He leaned forward, moving more into the last light from the window, the rich orange glow of the (battery powered) candles on the wall.

‘Oh no no nonono angel, don’t get upset, I just didn’t think you’d– I thought you’d– oh no–’ 

Crowley mentally whacked himself in the forehead–Aziraphale was obviously unsure about this, standing there looking somewhat perturbed, a little irritated maybe, in his sweet round cherub face. Crowley always got a little panicky when Aziraphale got upset. Kids he could deal with fine, with Aziraphale it always felt personal.

‘I thought you liked movies. You always used to want me to come to the movies with you.’

Now he sounded… confused? Hurt? Crowley had tried to take him to the movies, loads of times, but Aziraphale always got fidgety halfway through. Even when those clever humans had worked out talking films, Aziraphale had just never quite caught on. He was still stuck in the early 1900s, for the most part. And the tension of sitting in a dark room for an hour and a half might prove… too tempting.

‘I do! I do like movies! I just– also like books. Look I know it’s your thing, I’m not trying to encroach on your thing, I just– sorry, I should have told you.’ He said, suddenly feeling awful.

‘Oh no, that’s not what I was worried about at all, it’s just that–two hundred years we’ve had this bookshop and I didn’t know you liked to read?’ said Aziraphale with exasperation, and still a little hurt.

Crowley felt himself blushing and suddenly felt exposed without his glasses and jacket. He pushed his sleeves back up where they’d slipped back down his arms. He could feel Aziraphale watching him. 

‘I guess I thought you’d– ernhnhn it doesn’t matter I’ll put it back,’ he said, embarrassed, standing up from the couch.

‘You thought I’d what?’ asked Aziraphale gently.

‘I thought you’d laugh at me. Y’know. For reading. I know it’s not really–it doesn’t seem like my kind of thing. Forget it angel, I’ll put it back.’

‘Oh Crowley. Why would I laugh at you? I have a whole shop full of these things, do you really think I’d laugh at you for reading one? It’s–it’s quite nice actually. To know they’re being read. Considering I don’t sell very many.’ 

And he sounded so sweet just then. Crowley glanced at him, but barely needed to, he knew the face he’d be making–the same look of beaming adoration he always got whenever Crowley did something rather-less-than-demonic. 

‘Oh,’ said Crowley. He felt the angel take a step closer, put his own book down on the desk.

‘You were going to tell me about your book?’ Aziraphale asked. Crowley felt his heart melt a little and gripped the edge of the desk, leaning on it to stop himself throwing his arms around him. 

‘Yeah, alright angel,’ he grinned, still blushing a little. ‘It’s about this guy called Zachary and he finds himself written in a book he finds in a library, and he goes and find a girl at a party who knows something about and and then he meets this guy who stole his book, and the girl sends him to this underground library place where everything is like a dream, it’s pretty cool–’ 

Aziraphale had put a hand on his arm. Was still looking at him with his eyes of stars. Was still smiling up at him with all the love he had for the demon who had found enjoyment in his favourite thing from earth. Crowley relaxed his hand on the desk but was still fighting the voice in his head screaming why don’t you just touch him you idiot?. He put his hands in his pockets, breaking off Aziraphale’s touch. Fine then, avoid it again, won’t make you feel any better, said the voice in his head.

‘Ngk, okay, I don’t want to spoil it for you.’ he said, in what he hoped was a chill tone of voice. He didn’t think it was. He was shaking slightly from the combined shock of having upset Aziraphale and then having him touch him, and look at him like that in the space of a few minutes. He slung himself back over the couch and picked the book back up again, trying to hide behind it a little, though he could no longer focus on the words on the page. 

‘Oh of course, that does sound quite interesting, I’ll have to read it later,’ Aziraphale beamed. He turned to walk away.

‘Oh, just one thing, Crowley?’

‘Mhm, angel?’ he replied, still nervous.

‘Try not to leave books face down, they are all first editions. There are bookmarks on my desk just there, you can use one of those.’

‘Of course, angel,’ said Crowley. 

He watched as Aziraphale disappeared around a shelf, peering over the top of his book. He laughed a little, hidden behind the pages, grinning like an idiot that Aziraphale, lovely little dumbass that he was, would look at him like that just for reading a book.

[widowshill]

happy aro week to everyone who celebrates. give your local aro a hundred dollars to compensate for their suffering (me).

[itspileofgoodthings]

also it’s interesting because. my family is deeply unsentimental (in a very powerful way) and society is divided into the pretty heartless or the pretty sentimental (generally speaking) and I’m sort of this walking heart wound of emotion trying to straddle these lines (and having a hard time of it!) but one of the things that does guard me from being more sentimental than I am is the secret cruelty and unfairness that lurks at the bottom of all sentimentality.

[salmon-sushi-monster]

see one thing that made me really uncomfortable with Good Omens season 2, as someone on the aro/ace spectrum, is its message that Crowley and Aziraphale were never truly in love until they share a kiss and a declaration of conventional romantic love - you know, with sex and physical affection and the like. It's like saying the 6000 years they spent together mount to nothing and only serve as the stepping stone they need toward reaching a proper romance. It's like the show's asking the audience - how could they be in love without kissing each other? To me and many others like me, at least, their relationship before season 2 (particularly their relationship in the book) IS the most romantic status possible. They enjoy each other's presence, they understand each other, they are independent individuals with their own lives who value their companionship, they trust and communicate well with one another, their relationship is not romance or sex driven. Throughout the 6000 years they slowly developed this mode of love. I don't need them to kiss - I don't need to kiss - to be in love with someone and our relationship without that romance, physical affection, and conventional love declaration is just as valid as an allosexual one.

[trash-bin-ary]

Fun fact about me! I prefer really light blankets, since I get hot easily. So, if we shared a bed, that could be a problem.

…what if I was your blanket? /p I mean what. Who said that.

For some reason that makes complete sense to go with your couch sleeping. I can fix your sleep preferences /j

:3 yeah, what if you were my blanket.

[bronzebluemind]

the snow around holmenkollen😍😍

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[snckt]

my baby nephew also just left for the east coast and i just miss his little voice and holding hands and playing with matchbox cars ☹️

[ratatatastic]

you ever think about forsy being faced with an always have a small rock in your shoe or always have wet socks would you rather question and going "its not a fun situation... i would say yeah wet socks probably" like what possessed him to choose wet socks

[spotsupstuff]

every fuckin time i think about Haboob i think of that. Gabriel Iglesias show where he talks about his experiences on his tour in Saudi Arabia after being invited over by the prince... fuckin

specifically the 11:55 - 12:20 and 12:44 - 13:15. i am incapable of giving her more character development because this man who's face i've never seen keeps making me laugh too damn much. what the hell

[icewindandboringhorror]

oughhhhhhhhhhhh........ 89 F days in early May..........

[machinavocis]

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