#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.

[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.

[ineffable-dads]

Don't Wait Up

Ineffable Husbands, Ineffable Dads, Light Angst, Mentions of Bullying, Hurt/Comfort, Protective!Crowley, Child!OC

Ineffable Dads Masterlist

A/N: Hey! I'm not dead. With all the hype around season 2, I remembered this was still kicking around my files and decided to finally finish it. I have NOT had a chance to watch season 2 so if this isn't in keeping with new information, I apologize. Please no spoilers in the meantime. Once I get a chance to watch it, I'll likely have plenty of thoughts to share. Thanks!

Also, PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS. I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!

Summary: Aziraphale finds himself waiting for Isabelle to come home from her first date. Unfortunately, humans can be rather unpredictable creatures.

Word Count: 1.9K

Aziraphale wasn’t waiting up. He had no reason to. Isabelle had been very clear on that score. 

She was going to meet a boy from school at the cinema. She had told Aziraphale what time it started and when she’d likely be back. He had nothing to worry about and therefor had no reason to wait up.  The fact he had decided to catch up on some reading while taking a seat closest to the front door was a mere coincidence.

His eyes scanned over the pages, but halfway down the second, realized he hadn’t truly read any of it. With a slight huff, he set the book down and leaned back in the chair.

He really shouldn’t worry. Crowley certainly wasn’t as he made himself comfortable watching telly in the other room. Still, the whole thing nagged at him.

It wasn’t as if he were keeping vigil over Isabelle’s virtue or whatever it was fathers were so paranoid about to the point of threatening young suitors with violence. What Isabelle decided to do or not to do was entirely her decision. She was a smart girl after all and had been taught from a young age not to be afraid of the word no. All the same, he knew he’d feel much better once he saw her come through the door safe and sound. Isabelle might be good at saying no, but it didn’t mean other people listened.

That was the real crux of the issue, he supposed. Other humans. There was no telling what they would do.

With a slight effort, he got up from the chair, adjusting his waistcoat as he did so.  No point in pretending to read.  She’d be another hour at least. Might as well make some tea and think of something else to do. Maybe he’d even give that show a try Crowley seemed so addicted to.

Just as that rather shuddering thought ran through his mind, the front door clicked open. Relief immediately spread through him as he turned towards the entrance.

“Ah, Belle you’re back. How was your evening?”

She ignored him, keeping her head down as she quickened her pace toward stairs.  The smile which had appeared on the angel’s face quickly disappeared.

“Dear, are you alright?”

Isabelle didn’t answer. She only let out a shuttered breath of one trying hold back tears and failing.  She just ran the rest of the way up as fast as she could before slamming the door to her room shut.

Aziraphale blinked, finding himself standing rather uselessly at the bottom of the stairs. Of course, she wasn’t alright. Something had to have gone wrong if she came back this early. Different scenarios flashed across his mind, most of them ending with Isabelle giving a boy a well-deserved slap, but none of them provided him any useful insight.

“Was that Izz?” Crowley said, poking his head out from his study, undoubtedly clued in by the proceeding bang. “Something wrong?”

“Um yes,” Aziraphale said distractedly.  “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

Before Crowley could get another word in, the angel walked up the stairs, and stopped just in front of Isabelle’s door.

“Belle?” he called gently. “Dearest, what’s wrong?”

He received no answer, aside from the muffled cries.

“Isabelle please open the door. I promise you’ll feel much better if you let me in.”

“Go away,” her voice came tiredly.

“Alright, you don’t have to open the door,” he conceded. “Just talk.  What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, more forcefully this time. “Just leave me alone.”

He gave small sigh, halfway between exasperated and concerned.

“Belle what have I told you about lying?”

“You do it all the time.”

He pulled back, his brows furrowing. “Now that is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“You let people think you’re human, that’s lying.”

“That’s different, if I went around saying--,” he stopped himself, directing a tight-lipped expression straight into the door frame.  “Now that is completely off the subject.”

There was a pause. Aziraphale could practically hear her annoyed look at being caught.

He took a deep breath. “Dear,” he said as his voice slipped back to its parental tone, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Isabelle snapped. “Can’t I just not want to talk about something? Leave me alone!”

Aziraphale jerked back from the door, startled by her outburst.  He opened his mouth to retaliate, but quickly realized it would do no good.  For whatever reason, she wasn’t going to talk to him. 

A slight pain came to his chest at the thought.

There had been times Isabelle kept things to herself, but not for long and never anything serious. She knew she could tell him and Crowley anything. Yes, he had read enough books to know finding independence was part of the growing pains of adolescent, but he hadn’t thought it meant she would willingly shut him out.  He felt rather stuck about the whole thing and slowly made his way back downstairs, chewing his bottom lip the whole way.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he was a little surprised to find Crowley waiting for him, arms crossed, and stone faced.

“What happened,” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said, sadly.  “She came in crying and went straight to her room.”

The demon’s brows creased. “She was crying?”

“Yes, she tried her best to hide it, poor dear.  I don’t know what happened, but it must have been something very bad.”

Crowley nodded.  “Right, best let me take the lead.”

“What are you going to do?” Aziraphale asked.

“Tough love.”

He then turned his attention up the stairs.

“Izz! I’m coming up!”

It was her only warning as he stormed the steps with a determination which normally left Aziraphale flustered.  And he was, rather, having followed him halfway up the stairs before he knew what his legs were doing.

“What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand?” she shouted back as Crowley reached the landing.

“All of it,” he said. “Now let me in.”

“No!”

“Izz, I have respected your privacy by asking, but using my authority as your father I’m coming in anyway.”

He snapped his fingers and there was no longer a door.

Isabelle sat up on her bed, her eyes flashing with tears and anger.

“That’s not fair!” she shouted.

“Lesson one for the evening, life isn’t fair,” he said sternly. “Lesson two, privacy is an illusion.  Now are you going to tell me why you’re crying?”

“It doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “I just need to cry, okay? Sometimes you just need to cry. It’s human.  It’s a very human thing to do.  Now can’t I just cry?!”

It was then Isabelle finally caught Aziraphale’s eye. The anger was still there, but it was obvious just how hurt she truly was. He hadn’t seen her eyes so red since she had broken her arm after attempting a rather precarious trick on the monkey bars. This was different though. He couldn’t miracle it away, for one. 

Isabelle instantly put her head down looking ashamed at having both of them see her like this.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said, crossing the room toward her.  He took a seat on the bed and quickly wrapped her in a hug.  “There, there, it will be alright.”

Isabelle tried her best to look annoyed at his gesture, but her body language gave her away as she leaned into the embrace. In all honestly, it made him feel just a bit better too. At least he felt like he was doing something useful.

“Dearest, what’s wrong?” the angel tried again.

She let out another shuddering breath, shaking her head. “It’s stupid. It was a stupid joke.  I’m stupid to have fell for it. I’m sorry.”

“What joke was that?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Isabelle,” Crowley said.

That got both their attentions. 

Aziraphale looked up at him and saw an uncharacteristically soft look on his face as he looked Isabelle right in the eyes.

It wasn’t the first time he had given that look, but it was a rare enough thing, that Aziraphale always felt a little off balance at seeing it. There was something different about it, just a glimmer of that angel he used to be back before the world.

The girl in his arms seemed to feel the same thing as whatever fight she had left in her slipped away.

“It was all a joke,” she said quietly.  “Thomas asking me out.  It was all a joke.”

Both Aziraphale and Crowley remained silent allowing her to continue.

“He told me to meet him at the cinema, so I did.  After a while it looked like he was going to be late so I texted him and he told me he was sorry, that he got caught up with school stuff and he’d meet me there in a bit so we could get dinner.  So, I waited and about half an hour later he drove up with his friends and they just started laughing.”

She let in a sharp breath as she started to feel the familiar tightness in her throat.

“They just thought it was really funny.  I mean c’mon it’s hilarious, why on earth would the school freak think that anyone would be interested.”

The tears were flowing freely now.

“I mean how naive is that? It’s so stupid.  I’m so stupid.”

She tried to compose herself, but every attempt she made seemed to make it worse.

“I’m sorry. I should have seen it coming.  You taught me how to spot liars and I didn’t. I’m smarter than this.”

She broke down again no longer having it in her to form words.  Aziraphale pulled her in tighter and she let him.  He slowly rocked her back and forth rubbing her back soothingly.

“Shhh, it’s alright, you have nothing to apologize for.  That’s it.  Just let it all out.”

Crowley for his part said nothing as the last of Isabelle’s tears trickled down her cheeks.  His stance was much stiffer now with balled knuckles and hardened gaze.  Something was brewing deep inside his mind and, needless to say, it was decidedly unpleasant.

Isabelle eventually calmed down and Aziraphale let her go with the promise of coco and the fact it would be better in the morning.  She only half believed him, but accepted the idea of coco with as much enthusiasm as one could muster after having their feelings stamped on.

Both Aziraphale and Crowley left the room in mutual silence not speaking until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Poor dear,” Aziraphale said.  “It’s going to take a while to recover from this.  She’s really taken what those boys said to heart.”

“Yes,” Crowley said, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but mental scars are forever, or something like that.  You got this angel?”

“Yes,” he said suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

“Got to take care of something.” The demon then grabbed his keys, coat, and sunglasses before heading out the door. “Don’t wait up.”

Aziraphale did not need to ask what it was that Crowley needed to take care of, or more accurately who. 

He also knew somewhere, deep down, he should intervene, but the crying girl upstairs gave him pause.  He didn’t know exactly what Crowley had in mind, and if he didn’t know, there was no real way he could reasonably stop him.  Aziraphale was satisfied with this circular logic and allowed himself to settle in for the night. There was no need to wait up, after all.