#ineffable dads

[ineffableparents]

Sorry for the late update my lovelies!

GLOW Book 2, pages 21-28

[floofle-universe]

Just a father and his beautiful children

[natflorezz]

Ineffable dads

[ineffableteeth]

I just realized, Aziraphale has been renting out that space for Maggie’s family since the 1920’s so he literally watched Maggie grow up

I can just imagine her getting so excited every time he would show up to buy some records and just running over to Aziraphale then Aziraphale would pick her up and baby-talk her to death because he’s happy to see her too

[pagandaddybutart]

Two types of parents 🙄🙄

Ft. @ineffableparents azicrow babies Cherub & Jay :>

[youidiotwecouldbeenus]

I'm sorry I had to 😭🫴✨

[ourtubahero-blog]

Aziraphale in profile should be a painting or on coins.

[moonsscared]

I heard tumblr loves the ineffable husbands

[goodomens-memes]

34 DAYS LEFT !!!!!!!!

OMG I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THIS SCENE IN THE SEASON 2 😭😭

LZBDPSBSKZNPABZBZKVDLWKSVZSJDJD

[darinafox]

The Thunderstorm ⛈️🌩️👣🫄💓💞

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

Hihi !! Before i request I just love your writing so much and I couldn’t resist to request this!!

Could I request a teen! Reader (angel) who’s sees crowley & aziraphale as their parental figures who is trying to make something nice for them?

The reader is super silly and innocent so like the stuff they make look like something else 💀

Handmade

Ineffable Husbands x teen!angel!reader

Summary: Y/n wants to do something special for their favorite angel/demon duo. So, they try their ethereal hand at the human art of crafting.

Content: y/n uses they/them pronouns, improper use of miracles,

Note: Anon, you're such an absolute sweetheart. I appreciate you so much. Unfortunately, I didn't realize what you meant by 'something else' until after but hopefully you still enjoy the fic.

Rating: 14+ || 500+ w.

Gifts were important. Gifts were a way of expressing profound love for an individual, at least that is what Aziraphale had taught you. Gifts meant a lot; they were a language all their own. Gifts meant I love you.

Gifts were hard.

You stared at the heaping pile of crafting utensils Maggie from the record shop had leant you. There were a lot of options and she had even been kind enough to make you a list of ideas, the only problem was that none of it seemed quite right for Aziraphale and Crowley.

You stared at the felt and the streamers and silently willed yourself to come up with an idea, but nothing happened. Sighing, you sat back with your shoulders pressing against the side of Aziraphale's desk. It was lucky that they were out, the sight of you sitting on the floor surrounded by confetti might raise an alarm. Or perhaps not, you were prone to floor sitting.

You tossed your head back against the leg of the table and the telephone jingled with the bang. Perhaps you should call her and ask for her help, but no, this was your idea, and it would make it even more special if you did it yourself. There had to be something you could make.

Your eyes drifted to a stray bottle of silver glitter and stayed there, staring with such mindless intensity it was a miracle the tension didn't cause the bottle to bust. Miracles. You could use a little miracle of your own right about now.

"Wait," you sat up too quickly, dizzying yourself, and snatched up the little plastic bottle of glitter. "If it's only a small miracle, and one for good, then I can't possibly get in trouble for it. And it's still like I'm making it myself, because I am." A smile stretched wide across your face, and you turned to the plant in the corner, "This is going to be perfect."

Hours later, when Crowley and Aziraphale arrived back at the bookshop, there was a notable difference to the building. That being because the entire inside of the bookshop had turned into a Victorian style ballroom. "Right, well...what's all this?" You beamed at the demon from where you stood in the center of the large room. "Suprise! It's a gift!"

Aziraphale's face went from something sad - which you had luckily missed - to something proud and beaming. "A gift, yes! And, oh, how wonderful!" Crowley didn't look quite as convinced. However, he perked up quite notably when the record player you had been fiddling with started to play Queen's Somebody to Love. You offered a hand to both fellow angel and the demon in front of you, "Care to dance?"

"Why certainly!" Aziraphale answered for the both of them, whatever complaint Crowley had been about to give died in his throat as he was yanked along. As you danced, you made a mental note to thank Maggie for the record next time you saw her. Perhaps you might even thank her with a gift.

|| masterlist || navigation ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Ineffable Husbands/Good Omens copyrighted by Neil Gaiman©

[ineffableparents]

GLOW book 2, pages 13-20

[gaiaseyes451]

A Little Life - Chapter 5 - Most of You

First and foremost, a MASSIVE THANK YOU to @ineffablecrankshaft for this gorgeous sketch for one of the scenes in this chapter! I squealed when I saw it. Just, I LOVE IT, UGH!!! <3

Rated: E, Words: ~30k/~71k. 5/12 Chapters. Read the tags!

Chapter Excerpt (Read on AO3):

Over the years he’d built a reputation for asking questions at seminars. Not at every one, of course, that’d be obnoxious, but at a reasonable majority of them. Being questioned by Professor Crowley meant he found the research engaging, his questions were difficult but insightful. It was a compliment.

The first presenter stepped to the podium. As he listened he jotted down thoughts, a few observations, some values as the questions began to form. When she’d finished speaking and opened the floor to questions he raised his hand, glancing down at his scrawl to bring the question into focus.

His notes were gibberish. The page was covered in half words, broken midway through the thought. Partial observations and fragmented questions were all he’d recorded; parsing them together into a coherent question was impossible. He began to lower his hand.

*~*~*

Summary:

When Professor of Botany Anthony Crowley met bookshop owner Ezra Fell one November afternoon both knew their lives had irrevocably changed. From that moment forward, Anthony and Ezra’s existence was intertwined. Their story was written in the moments and memories they created as they moved through life’s chapters of coming together, building a family and facing the challenges of being human. This is a story of unconditional love and the joy and humour, obstacles and grief that inevitably come with choosing the same person, day after day, over and over and over again.

*~*~*

A huge thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the writers community. And an extra special thanks to @hakunahistata and @the-literal-kj for beta'ing this story. Finally, a huge thanks for @fuzzygoblin for the song prompt that inspired this work.

[elasgottoomuchfreetime]

[concerned partners + their kids]

A little S2 doodle because it floated through my brain and I wanted to draw.

And because I think it‘s cute.

[brainwormcity]

Imagining a scenario where Aziraphale and Crowley end up having to adopt the second coming of Christ.

Aziraphale running into the next room, holding baby JC at arm's length like, "he turned his bathwater into wine again! The tannins are going to stain the porcelain!" :(

Meanwhile, Crowley's standing in the next room muttering, "gonna be useful having that kid around in the future," as he pours himself a glass from a nearly empty wine bottle.

[thedemonknownasbilly]

Drunk Thoughts

Warnings: Underage drinking

AFAB Reader cause this is my coping mechanism and about an incident before I came out.

Ineffable dads (sort of), he/him for both of them.

“You gave me the world, I gave you my trust. You invested in me, I invested in us. Who would have known you’d hurt me so much?” She mumbled-sang, taking another swig of the Jack, wincing at the taste but remaining on her floor, back to the wall as she sang along, her house empty, parents at some fancy event. Younger brother out with friends. And here she was, at 14, as alone as she could be.

“I’m feeling worthless, I don’t deserve this.”

“You’re right, little mouse.” The red haired demon said, leaning against the wall, just two feet away from her. “You don’t deserve this.” He crouched down to her level and took the whisky from her hand, shushing any protests. “You’re fourteen, seven more years to go.”

“I don’t care, give it back.” She insisted, stumbling to her knees to take it from him. But he simply rose to his full height, towering over her 5’2” with ease.

“I’ll return it in seven years, for now, how about we visit the library, I know that makes you feel better.”

“When can I visit your friend?” She asked, meaning the bookshop owning angel.

“When you’re eighteen or wherever he comes with me, whichever happens first.”

“I’m here, Crowley, oh, this must be R—.” A man dressed in white said, appearing behind the lankier man and offering his hand to the girl. “I’m Aziraphale, I know our meeting is long overdue.” He felt like such a comforting presence, she couldn’t help as she hugged him, fighting tears against his waist coat as his warm hands rubbed her back.

“Never took you for a guardian demon, Crowley.” Aziraphale mused.

“She reminds me of myself. How could I not?” The demon replied simply, stroking her hair as she settled into the angel’s arms.

Okay, so I’m like, 5 fireballs, 2 glasses of whiskey, and 1/4 a bottle of MD2020 deep, excuse any grammatical whateverthefucks. I’m coping by writing and listening to sad songs.