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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 2 years ago

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It's been so long since I posted to AO3 I'm forgetting how to do the things :O This fic is now available there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47203363

Home (Four Times Crowley was Lovesick - and Aziraphale Took Care of Him)

Written for @do-it-with-style-events "Who Needs A Great Plan" event, Day 1, prompt "Four"

Crawly stood beneath the white wing, watching the rain fall, watching the humans walk away, watching anything but the angel beside him, his smile, the way he furrowed his brow and pouted.

His heart kept doing a funny skipping thing every time he looked that way, which was odd, and made him think he’d gotten some sort of defective body, or possibly that he’d messed something up in the transition from the serpent form.

“You know, I do think this rain might not be as pleasant as I’d hoped,” the angel said, tipping his head back so sopping white curls dangled, dripping onto his robe. “I’m starting to feel a bit cold, are you?”

“Nah. M’adem’n,” Crawly muttered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Well. I suppose we all have our aptitudes.” He reached down to squeeze the rainwater from his sleeve. “I suppose you carry the fires of Hell within you, or something?”

“S’nice.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the angel turn to smile at him and now his heart was doing some sort of backflip, and his stomach attempting to dance. “G-g-gotta keep’m somewhere.”

“I see. I do find myself missing my sword, but I think…” his lips pursed. “I think it’s in the right hands.”

How could he forget the angel had given away his sword.Fucking brilliant.

Crawly sniffed, and the cold seemed to creep into his nose. “M-must’a b’n-n-nice t’have a-a-achoo!”

His body must be worse than he’d thought. His entire face seemed to have exploded.

“Good lord, what was that?” The angel shuffled closer, peering at him, reaching up to poke at Crawly’s nose. “Is this supposed to make that sort of noise?”

The demon braced himself, expecting pain, expecting a reprimand, expecting anything but a soft finger gently massaging the bridge of his nose, pressing lightly as if he might break.

“S’only a-achoo!” Not again. “Achoo! A-CHOO!”

“This sounds serious!” The angel now stood so close that his arm pressed against Crawly’s. “Oh! And your hand!” He snatched it up, gently tracing his fingers across the demon’s palm. “It’s cold! Have your fires gone out?”

“Nnnnnnnnnh. S’th’cold,” he confessed. “S’getting in m’nose.”

“Well, that will not do.” Being careful to keep his wing in place, the angel looped his arms around Crawly’s waist, drawing him into an unexpected softness, a steady warmth. “There. Is this better?”

“Mrgl.” Crawly didn’t look over, even as the angel leaned against him. He shifted his am, putting it around the angel’s shoulders, rubbed his forearm as he rubbed Crawly’s side, but the demon did not look.

It was safer that way.

“Then you hold the oyster like this, and—” Aziraphale slurped it out of the shell.

“Ngk.” Crowley swirled his wine, glaring into the cup. “I…maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

“Nonsense! Trying new foods is one of the delights of the world.”

“Yeah, but…I prefer foods that don’t smell so bad.”

That made Aziraphale laugh, which made things harder. It seemed to echo in Crowley’s chest, send his heart into answering flutters. He shifted on the couch, but there was only so far he could roll before it was impossible to drink. Which meant he had to keep looking across the table, at Aziraphale’s couch, where he reclined in a rolling curve of soft white toga and ate his oysters and wouldn’t stop smiling.

“Crowley? Are you feeling quite well?”

“Nrgh. Yeah. Why?”

“Because I asked four times how your wine is and you never responded.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t remember, so he drank a mouthful, then immediately spat it out. Salt water and vinegar, same as any Roman wine. “Lousy.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” And all at once, the angel rolled off his couch and now he was crossing the room and oh Satan, he was on Crowley’s.

This was a disaster.

Aziraphale leaned down and rested a hand on Crowley’s forehead. “You do feel extremely warm. Are you ill? I’m not sure a demon can get ill but—”

“Yes! Yes. That.” He tried to sit up. “Very, very ill. I should go. I should go now—”

“But—”

Crowley managed to get his feet under him, and his robe under his feet, and he collapsed again, falling onto something softer than the couch Oh Satan it was Aziraphale’s lap.

“Crowley!” His head turned instinctively and shit, those eyes were so close.

His heart was going to explode, but it was worth it.

“I should…take you home…”

“Ahhhhhhhh,” Crowley managed. Yes. Please. Please, wherever you call home, that’s where I want to be.

“Yes. Right. Immediately. Tell me where you’re staying, and I will escort you back.”

“My…my…oh.” His stomach was doing something new, twisting around itself. Like when he saw the Hellhounds getting ready for a walk, but worse. “M’a’th’p’liss.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m! At! Th—thepalace.” Great. Now he was either shouting or mumbling. Why couldn’t he think?

“Good. Right. Palace.” He slid his arm behind Crowley, supporting him. “Do you think you can walk?”

The demon’s legs had never shaken like this before. “Definitely not.”

“That’s alright.” And Aziraphale scooped him up into his arms, as easily as if Crowley were a child. “I’ll help you.”

Crowley hadn’t slept in over a month.

He shouldn’t have needed to. Demons didn’t sleep. But he’d gotten used to it, most nights, and now his task consumed him day and night, driving him to ever more complex plans, ever more desperate measures.

But finally…finally…he’d gotten a bloody crowd to see that gloomy talk-y play.

And just in time. Aziraphale had sent word that he was returning tonight, and he was supposed to meet Crowley here, outside the inn. The demon had rooms above, which had been used for scheming and planning and plotting and not, for a long time, sleeping.

He was fine, though. Running on pure adrenaline, yeah, but that just made life good. He couldn’t wait to swagger into that theater, spread his arms and show the angel—

“Ah, Crowley! There you are, my good fellow.”

He turned his head and fuck, there went his knees. Aziraphale was smiling at him like he was actually glad to see Crowley, and his entire body just stopped obeying any commands or even regular rules of biology. He staggered, legs feeling watery, his head spun, lights brighter than stars flashing before his eyes, and his heart just ached to reach out.

“Crowley? Is something the matter?”

“Mnothang.” Brilliant. He slumped against the wall of the inn, trying to get some sense of reality back. “M’a little tired’s’all.”

“Tired? Are you sure?” Aziraphale rushed forward, cupping Crowley’s face in his hand. “You feel…clammy. I need—can you take your glasses off? I need to see your eyes.”

“Szfiiiine.” But he pulled them off, and found himself again pierced by eyes glowing just a bit too blue to be allowed.

“No, no your eyes are glassy. And—and look, your pulse is racing.”Now came the concerned look, oh Satan, no one else ever looked at Crowley like that. “This…this looks a great deal like the latest plague, I saw several villages struck by it coming back.”

“Angelllll. M’ademon. We don’ get th’plague.” Why could he not just speak normally?

“Nonsense, you know perfectly well you’ve always had a strange constitution, getting sick far too often. You still have rooms here, yes? Upstairs. To bed.”

Will you come with me? The angel’s hand hadn’t moved from Crowley’s cheek, and he never wanted to be away from that touch again. “But…”

“No buts.” The hand did fall away, but only to grip his shoulder, spin Crowley around and propel him forward, through the door, and up the stairs.

Aziraphale walked past the mess in his room, the papers, notes, maps, disguises, and everything else needed to convince a city it actually liked that blasted play. He steered Crowley directly to the bed, and pushed him down onto it. “There. Stay put, please.”

“Nnnnh.” It wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d ever lain, but the rough straw mattress seemed luxurious just now. Something tugged at his foot, and he looked up to find Aziraphale, carefully pulling his shoes off. “Still here?”

“What are you talking about? Where else would I be?” He sounded cross.

“The play.”

“Play? Play? Oh, yes, Hamlet.” He tossed the shoes aside and settled Crowley’s leg back onto the bed. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities. I hear they’re planning to run it twice as long as they’d expected.”

Of course they were, Crowley was good at his job. But there was no point if Aziraphale didn’t see the crowd. “Gotta go,” he insisted, though his body was already curling up on itself, preparing for a long sleep.

“Absolutely not.” A rustle, and when Crowley’s eye cracked open again, Aziraphale was seated on the edge of the bed, taking Crowley’s hand in his. “I need to make sure you’re alright.”

“Hnnngh.” But he was far too exhausted to argue. “Why’r’ya’lways…fussing…like y’r worried…”

He didn’t hear Aziraphale’s answer, but in his dream the angel said, “Of course I worry. Whatever would I do without you?”

“All them angels,” Crowley shouted, bottle in hand, “an’specially Gabriel, can go! To! Helllllllll!”

“Really? And what about the demons already there?”

“Thas’th brilliant part.” He staggered a little, grinning at Aziraphale. Their celebration at the Ritz had gotten a little out of hand, but in a good way. A way they bloody well deserved. “Th’demons. They go to Heaven. But. But. Buuuuuuut.” He took a long drink, then offered the bottle to the angel, who shook his head. “Wha’was I…ri’ri’righ’—go to Heaven. But. Don’ tell’em th’passwords. For anyfing.”

“Won’t they just figure them out?”

“Nnnnnnnnope! Cuz allll the brains in Hell are right here!” He shouted in the general direction of the office building. “Have fun puttin’…Hastur’n charg’a…stuff…” He tried for another drink, but the wine had all gone. “Awwww.”

“Don’t worry, my dear, we’re nearly home.”

“Ya. S’good.” Home was good. Plants. Television. More wine. The bed. Hadn’t slept all week.

Why was Aziraphale coming with him? Hadn’t the shop un-burned down? Had he left something at Crowley’s flat? A…spare bowtie?

Also: why did Mayfair look suspiciously like Soho?

The penny dropped at about the time Aziraphale got the shop door unlocked. “Thizzisn’ home,” he pointed out.

“Well-spotted. Come on, then.”

Shrugging, Crowley followed. There’d be more wine here, at least, and a sofa to sleep on. Not the most comfortable, but he was tired enough.

Something was different. Crowley squinted at a pile of books, but they remained stubbornly bookish. Ah, well. Sofa.

He slumped on it, waiting for Aziraphale to head to the back room for some wine, or settle into his armchair. Maybe pick up a book to read while Crowley rambled.

Instead, the angel sat beside him.

“Annngiraphel…”

“Crowley. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“Course. I’m cebretory. Cerebrorrry. Celebatory. ‘M partying.”

“Yes, I know. But…I just…” Oh, Someone. The concerned, furrowed brow. The pouting lips. The eyes. So much worse than the smile. Good thing Crowley was already sitting, because the room was starting to spin, even before Aziraphale picked up his hand. “I wish you would take care of yourself.”

“Wha? I do. Allllays do. No one else’z gonna do’t. Not’n Hell. Wily demon, righ’?” He tried to smile, even as his heart and stomach started switching places.

“Then why are you always unwell? I’ve lost count of…of how many times I’ve seen you falling over, unable to speak, too hot or too cold.”

“Ssssss’not like that.”

“Yes it is! And…and it was bad enough before. Crowley, we…we’re all we have left. Each other. And…and whatever it is that…that gets you into this condition…alcohol, or illness, or…whatever else. I wish you would avoid it.”

“Can’t.”

“Crowley—” Aziraphale pulled his hand closer, eyes pleading, and for a moment the demon thought he’d just discorporate on the spot. Probably would have if he’d been sober.

“Can’t. S’only one thing tha’makes me…fall orer mysel’. Makes me…can’t speak. S’only evrrr been one.”

Aziraphale’s face was so soft. Crowley couldn’t figure out how his hand had gotten there, pressed to his cheek, but it was good.

Or not. Angel’s eyes went wide. Probably did something wrong. Crowley pulled his hand back, wondering if he’d be kicked out.

“Can you…sober up, dear?”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnidonwanna.” He wrinkled his nose. Shoulda stopped three bottles ago.

“Yes, I know. But you’ll likely have a hangover either way, and you might as well have it now. And…I want to finish this conversation sober.” Oh, the sad eyes, the serious face.

“Awwwwwtha’s no’fair. S’not like I c’n say no.”

“I…yes, you can. It is your choice.”

“Nnnh. Can’t say no’ta’you.” He looked around for something, maybe a garbage bin or…oh, yes, a planter. Lucky tree was about to get some very expensive alcohol.

He concentrated, pulling all the alcohol out of his body, filling one planter, then another, then another. As the light-headedness faded, the headache came in, pounding and pulsing.

“Glarghl.” Crowley pressed a hand to his eye. “See? Sober. Happy?”

“Not yet. Can you walk?” A light tug on his hand, and Crowley staggered to his feet, trailing after Aziraphale. Up the stairs? They never went up there. Private bookshelves and sculptures and junk.

At the top, Aziraphale opened a door that he’d thoughtwas a closet but actually led to Crowley’s bedroom.

Wait.

Crowley turned around, bleary eyes searching the shop. Plants. His plants. His sculptures. Junk. Also his.

Back to the bedroom. His bed, his furniture. Not his room. Wooden walls covered in bookshelves, good sized window looking out at the back alley. He could just see the Bentley parked out there.

“Th’fuuuuck…”

“I’m…I’m sorry. I should have asked.” Aziraphale gently pushed him towards the bed. “If you don’t like it, I’ll put everything back tomorrow. I just.” A gentle nudge, and Crowley sat on the bed. “I want you close. Where I can take care of you.”

“Don’need it.” He wriggled his toes, making his boots vanish. It was easier than meeting Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Yes, you do.” A hand on his shoulder pushed Crowley down into the bed, his head onto the pillow

It felt so much more comfortable here, in Aziraphale’s shop, with Aziraphale beside him.

“No. Don’t need you to take care of me.” He stared resolutely up at the ceiling, searching his aching head for the words he needed. Swallowing, trying to push aside the pain, the soreness in his throat. “I need…I just need…”

He couldn’t say it. But he reached out, hand groping along the edge of the bed until it found Aziraphale’s, resting lightly on the mattress. Cautiously, Crowley slid his hand on top of it.

“Crowley…please look at me.” His eyes wandered down, following the shelves until they landed on Aziraphale’s face. On his brilliant, angelic smile.

The demon tried to smile back, though his head was pounding. He managed something like a grimace. “Nnnnnnnnh. C’n we finish this in’th’morning.”

“Do you think you’ll be better able to talk?”

“Mrrrf. Will you be there?”

“Of course,” the angel said, nearly indignant.

“Nope. Not a chance.” His thumb traced the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “I can never say what I want. S’not even that many words. But…” Crowley shrugged.

“Can you move over?” Aziraphale asked, sliding his hand out from under Crowley’s.

The demon blinked, confused, and wriggled further along the mattress.

The bed dipped under the new weight as Aziraphale climbed into the vacated space, laying beside him. “I…I could never say it, either. Always something stopping me, some…uncertainty. Even now. But I shall keep trying.” His fingers gently brushed Crowley’s cheekbone. “My dear…would you like to…to make this place…your home?”

“Nh. Shop’s not home.” The fingers jerked away, and Aziraphale’s brow furrowed, not in concern this time, in pain. Fuck. Why was it so hard?

He caught Aziraphale’s hand before it could get far, bringing it back, gently resting it against his heart. “This, Angel. This’s home. You.”

“Oh.” Blue eyes blinked, a look of wonder in them Crowley had felt many times, wonder at this being who cared for him, who stayed by him. Always. “I…I see.”

The mattress shifted again, and suddenly the angel was closer. Which of them had moved? Did it matter? Did anything matter, apart from Aziraphale’s arm across him, all the warmth and softness he could ever ask for, pulling him in, pulling him close, enveloping him as it had that first day.

“Yes. Welcome home, dear.”

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drunkenmantis · 1 year ago

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minimalistic Good Omens art - Breakdown

A little design breakdown and why i did what i did on my minimalistic Good Omens art

Gold: the gold is the connection both Aziraphale and Crowley have to there angel side (crowley being a former angel) --> Aziraphale still being an Angel has his Halo still in one piece while Crowley being a fallen Angel has his broken and in pieces.

black: chosen from Crowleys main appearance with his clothing choice, also stands for him being a fallen angel

"aggressive" red: stands for Hell and references Crowleys hair

beige/almost white: pulled from Aziraphales main appearance with his clothing choice and him being an angel. I also went against a complete white to show that Aziraphale is not a typical "pure" angel

grey/blue: stands for heaven and is a reference to Aziraphales eye color.

Everything on Crowleys side is supposed to scream energy and a sense of "brokenness", that's why i depict him with sharper edges, pointy ears and nails, a broken Halo more animalistic snake eyes and the feather are thinner and pointier.

On Aziraphales side I wanted to bring out a more soft, angelic and friendly welcoming tone to equal out Crowley. I tried to give him a more "round" and soft feel, like a teddy you wanna pick up and cuddle. His wings are also rounder and "fluffier". His eyes are a bit smaller than Crowleys and of cause human like.

I always insert a details in the color of there counterpart to break up the overall composition and not make it overwhelmingly "one sided", also to symbolise how deeply they are connected to each other.

Another thing i reference with the composition is a dyptich. "As an art term a diptych is an artwork consisting of two pieces or panels, that together create a singular art piece these can be attached together or presented adjoining each other. In medieval times, panels were often hinged so that they could be closed and the artworks protected." -Wikipedia

Aziraphale is always depicted on the left because he is an Angel "and sits on Crowley right shoulder" Crowley is always depicted on the right because he is a Demon "and sits on Aziraphales left shoulder"

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #art #my art

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 1 year ago

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Don't leave your demon uncuddled

A/N: Crowley wants cuddles, but Aziraphale never stops reading. This calls for drastic measures.

When Crowley had introduced Aziraphale to the marvels of staying in bed all day – all week, all month, not yet all year – long, he’d had a very specific picture in mind: the two of them wrapped around each other, respective noses buried in shades of cream-colored and auburn-tinted hair, eyes merely opening to exchange glances of fond admiration, warmth encompassing them both in a timeless embrace, a fest of never seizing cuddles.

In Crowley’s opinion, this plan should have worked out fine. Not a single obstacle had presented itself to him when he’d set out to tempt the angel into the gentle embrace of warm blankets and soft pillows. What the demon had underestimated at the time, was the power of Aziraphale’s books.

If the angel were asked to list his favourite things since… well always, he’d most certainly list Crowley first and foremost. The mention of his books were, nevertheless, only one breath away.

So, quite unexpectedly, since Aziraphale’s introduction to spending quality time in bed, Crowley had not been succumbed to countless hours of cuddling, but to a quite unsatisfyingly absent angel whose face tended to disappear behind the pages of a leather bound classic. Moving between the covers and pillows ended up being rather unpleasant, since numerous pointy hardbacks stuck out on either side of the mattress. And if he got really unlucky, Aziraphale even left their pillow fort for a while, putting many cold miles between their vessels, only to return with more books.

To be fair, the giddy face of the angel who seemed to experience a whole new level of dedication to his favourite hobby was rather endearing and Crowley could not seriously bring himself to complain to Aziraphale about the lack of physical attention to himself. Besides, the angel was a rather entertaining reader, exclaiming and gasping and giggling all the while which did give Crowley some fun hours, as he simply watched him, curled up by his side, shaking his demonic head with a soft smile.

Sometimes Aziraphale had found good compromises: petting Crowley’s back while reading out loud to him or drawing the lines on the pages out with a single finger between Crowley’s shoulder blades. He was also really unbothered about Crowley’s choosing of which way to position himself around or on top of the angel, across his belly, next to his side, underneath his arm – nothing disturbed Aziraphale when he was reading.

Crowley had therefore enjoyed some of the time they’d passed in bed together.

But after two weeks of frequent reading and of books piling up around them like a flooding tide, Crowley did start to feel like he was drowning in old ink and crinkly pages. And it had to come to an end.

“Angel,” he moaned, when hours had passed with only the sound of pages turning, the repetition transforming it into a form of torture to his ears. He was curled up by Aziraphale’s side, the blanket allowing for nothing but his hair and his yellow eyes to stick out – his expression was all but pleased. “Aziraphale!!” He repeated, slipping his head out from underneath the blanket entirely, intensifying the glare he directed up at the angel’s face.

“Hmmm?” He asked, not even looking at the demon, his blue eyes glued on the pages that shielded him from the warm and welcome temptation of snuggling in peace.

Crowley groaned and had to summon all his lazy powers to slip out one arm from underneath the comfort of the blanket. He moved it up to put his hand between the stupid book and the angelic face. “Haven’t you done enough reading for now?”

Aziraphale swatted Crowley’s hand away like a pestering fly and didn’t pay much attention to his responding hiss. “Crowley, why don’t you just go back to sleep, that’s a dear.”

Surprisingly, the displeased look in Crowley’s eyes grew even less pleased than prior and the demon struggled to pull out arm number two from within the sweet – and currently only �� embrace of his blanket to cross both of them over his chest meaningfully. “Can’t you just put your book down for a few months and… just…” cuddle meee?, he continued in his head, but a sudden twang of insecurity avoided the words from leaving his tongue.

His lips turned into a thin line, when Aziraphale’s sole reaction consisted of a quickly uttered: “What? Yes, jolly good, indeed.”

Fiddling with his hands, he sighed and glared at the ceiling for a while.

“You’re not going to pay attention to me then?” He asked eventually, moving his head to look at the angel’s face. And just then did a small smile and a very smugly raised eyebrow grace that oh so innocent face.

“I guess not.”

Ohh, thought Crowley. Ohhhh. That was how he wanted to play? Foolish, foolish angel. No one could beat Crowley at a game of ‘You can’t get a reaction out of me anyway’. That was a challenge, the demon was more than apt to live up to.

A smile took over his brooding features as he nodded to himself, feigning peacefulness, his eyebrows rising just as smugly as the angels’ had. “Huh.”

Another page was turned – extremely slowly and extremely loudly. Crowley narrowed his eyes. The angel was still smirking ever so slightly, thinking himself clever. The smile on Crowley’s features grew.

“I see. Don’t let me disturb you then, I’ll just get a little more comfortable.” Lifting his upper-body, Crowley crawled on top of his angel, placing a hand on either side of his body, before lowering himself down. His head came to a rest on Aziraphale’s belly, the soft cotton of his pyjama smelling of fresh waterlilies. With a loud sigh, Crowley cuddled himself as close to the angel’s body as possible, his arms finding the space between the small of his back and the mattress to cross underneath and wrap him up in his embrace.

Aziraphale didn’t allow any of that to disturb him in the least. Behind his book, hidden from view, he bit his bottom-lip, concealing a little smirk. Mischief was in the air and he was quite prepared to see whatever Crowley would come up with to gain his attention. The letters on the pages turned into senseless repetitions of the same line, his attention not really remaining with his lecture.

Crowley was feeling particularly mischievous in that very moment and he was in a rather perfect position to act out his mean little plan. Moving his chin over Aziraphale’s tummy, he tightened his grip around him ever so slightly. Suddenly he buried his nose in the soft, angelic belly and inhaled deeply. “Ahh, you smell so good, angel.”

Aziraphale’s grip on his book grew a little stronger. Oh dear, maybe he was in more trouble than he’d expected. “Crowley,” he warned meaningfully, conveying unmistakeably with his tone of voice that the demon better not do what he appeared very much about to do.

“Yes?” The demon answered innocently, a playful grin settling on his face, as he started circling Aziraphale’s belly with the tip of his nose.

“I’m warning you.” The angel stated, shifting a little on the covers and lifting one hand from his book to hold up a reprimanding finger. His face stayed hidden behind the hardback copy which merely propelled Crowley’s grin to new dimensions of evil.

“I’m not doing anything.” He lied, placing a kiss in the middle of Aziraphale’s belly, before more kisses followed - to his sides, to his ribs, to his hips, all soft spaces that got Aziraphale to hold his breath and press his lips together tightly.

He tried not to react too strongly to the sensations spreading on his midriff, but truly, Crowley started to tickle him more and more and soon enough, Aziraphale was sure of it, it would become unbearable. He cleared his throat and shifted around some more, trying to distract himself with the sentences under his nose, but it was to no avail. He was about to lose their little game, but he tried to stay afloat for as long as he possibly could. Little titters of laughter tinted his voice when next he spoke. “You- you will regret this.”

“I sure hope I will.” Crowley answered, his smirk audible in every syllable and all hell broke loose when next he dipped his head to Aziraphale’s tummy and started growling into it. A loud screech left the angel’s lungs as he slipped out of his comfortable sitting position, starting to hit Crowley’s head with the next best weapon – which turned out to be the very enemy, the book itself.

“NOO!!” The sweetest squeals emerged from the bibliophile angel as Crowley continued to snarl, growl, gnaw and nibble all over the cotton covered ticklish belly at his mercy, paying no heed to the painful attempts at self-defence directed at his poor head. “DON’T DO THAT!!! OH CROWLEY YOU’LL-“ A peal of high-pitched laughter cut off Aziraphale’s line of thought as wily fingers started prodding his sides, adding to the unbearable sensations that overpowered his vessel.

“I’ll what? Tickle you until you pop? Maybe sooo.” Crowley snickered when Aziraphale finally tossed the dangerous book aside and started pushing and hitting at him with his hands instead, his scrunched up face decorated with the sweetest smile and his cheeks painted a very rosy colour.

“I BEG OF YOU!! STOP THIS!!”

Crowley merely smirked lazily, rubbing his face against Aziraphale’s ticklish sides and wiggling his fingers into easily accessible ribs on either side of his favourite body, never wishing for one second to stop.

“Can’t ignore me now, can you?”

Aziraphale arched his back as best he could and pushed his head into a bunch of pillows violently. They went flying, coming in handy and appearing a new wonderful weapon against Crowley’s ticklish attack. The demon started laughing when one of them came down next on his tousled hair, softer than the previous weapons, but nevertheless dangerous in the hands of the angel.

“Hey, stop hitting me!” He chuckled, removing one arm from underneath Aziraphale’s back to protect himself, trying to pull the pillow from the other’s grasp.

“NEVER YOU FOUL DEMONIC-“ Aziraphale choked on a new wave of laughter when Crowley’s hand disappeared underneath his arm, fingers hitting the centre of his armpit and making it impossible for him to keep from squeaking with laughter. The pillow was left harmless on the mattress next to the pair, as Aziraphale tried to curl up into a little ball.

Crowley followed his every move, expertly attacking whichever weak spot revealed itself next, until Aziraphale’s position on the bed had changed from upright to sideways.

“TRUTH, TRUTH!!” The angel squeaked when Crowley’s fingers were gently scribbling up his sides, kisses tickling him underneath his chin. “YOU GOT ME! I GIVE UP! I DO! CROWELY!!”

Chuckling softly, Crowley stilled his skilful fingers and removed his mouth from Aziraphale’s sensitive neck. The angel was panting, a big smile on his face and small titters still spilling from his lips.

Crowley had missed their tickle fights especially during these last two weeks of the angel’s insatiable hunger for books. Nothing was as sweet as his angel’s reaction to having Crowley kiss and tickle all over his middle. Though Aziraphale would probably not agree with him on this – he kept teasing that nothing could be sweeter than his demon flailing like a bug in the water whenever Aziraphale’s fingers came near his hips or the backside of his ribs.

“You,” Aziraphale exclaimed when his breathing allowed it, “are in for quite the ordeal!”

“Oh, am I?” Crowley chuckled, pushing their noses together and planting a quick kiss on the angel’s lips. “Do you really think you’d have the singlest tidbit of a chance against me right now?”

Aziraphale threw his head back with another peal of laughter when Crowley’s fingers continued their ticklish way up his sides. “NO NO!! NOT A ONE!! CROWLEY PLEASE!!”

“Not a one.” Crowley repeated meaningfully and grabbed Aziraphale’s shoulder to roll them over, grinning happily up at his angel’s bright face. “I won. Now I demand-“ He stopped himself, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

“Cuddles?” Aziraphale offered, smirking knowingly.

Crowley growled and hissed in response, but his blushed cheeks made it lack any vigour. “Yes, that!!” He spat out, before burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck and turning them over again.

Aziraphale smirked at the demon’s antics, wrapping his arms around him to pull him as close to his body as possible and allowing him to keep his face hidden at his neck. “You shall have your cuddles then, you wily snake.”

Crowley grabbed the blanket and pulled it around them, before letting out the loudest sigh of relief, happily enveloped in the hug he had wished for. Occasionally he allowed his snake tongue to slip out between his lips to tickle Aziraphale’s neck. But apart from that, their cuddle session was not interrupted for an impressive amount of time. And Crowley couldn’t have been happier.

#good omens #tickle fic #good omens fluff #ticklish!aziraphale #tickling #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #cuddles #snuggles #pillow fights #don't ignore the lil snake aziraphale

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diddle-riddle · 2 years ago

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Wings

"And so... you have wings. On top of... everything else."

Edward felt his symbiote roommate purr inside him. He smiled with fondness at the recurring feeling: the Bat behaves like a big happy cat on a regular basis, what is frankly adorable.

"I do. Not many of our kind possess this characteristic," the extraterrestrial specified via his low, guttural voice. "I always loved to fly. May I show you?"

"I would like to... know what it feels like..."

Bruce purred some more, his smooth black head bumped against the redhead's cheek. He really resembled a kitty asking for cuddles.

'Bruce'. The Bat allowed his human host assigned him a name, he appreciated the way said appellation rolled on his tongue. He was also fond of hearing Ed and his two children give him affectionate nicknames. These were always... very cute.

"They are beautiful," Eddie whispered when Bruce unfolded two large wings on his back.

The appendages were comparable to giant bat wings, with a cut reminiscent of demon representations you find in fairytales and illustrated novels.

The symbiote hadn't taken over his host's body, only were visible his head attached to Ed's shoulder via a snake-like neck and the strong black wings he introduced to his human for the first time.

Meanwhile Edward trusted Jason and Stephanie not to leave their shared place. His kids may be reckless hurricanes, they wouldn't put themselves at risk whilst their dad agreed to test another charming aspect of his alien roommate's capacities: Bruce swore they would fly tonight.

Hidden in the shadows, standing on the flat roof located on top of his apartment building, both leather-ish venous wings wide open on each side of him and his long ginger hair drawing pumpkin orange waves into the wind, Edward looked like an angel.

An... angel of darkness, perhaps?

"You are beautiful, Eddie Nygma," Bruce mirrored the compliment.

Spending time with a lovely human family who welcomed him in their circle considerably softened the Bat's entire line of conduct.

"You flatterer, trying to make me blush again," Ed smiled, indeed blushing like a schoolgirl at the praise.

He shared an enamored glance with the creature, looking right into the glowing white triangular eyes, then he stroked the smooth black forehead between the symbiote's pointy ears.

It felt like his digits caressed the skin of a... frog.

"Tell me, Bats... how powerful are these wings of yours?"

"Powerful enough to carry you and me wherever we want, little one."

This sounded promising.

Eddie restrained the Dracula-based joke he suddenly felt the need to release. His partner wouldn't understand the reference, but no doubt showing him pictures of imaginary vampires portrayed with wings or able to transform into bats will be funny.

Perhaps at the origin, these legends starring vampires come from actual symbiotes who would have landed on Earth and bonded with humans, who knows?

The wings flapped into the fresh night air. No one will look up, even in the streets where Bruce and Edward noted a lingering human presence despite the late hour.

No one will see them, they were... free to do as they please.

The Bat detected his host's raising excitement for the upcoming activity. It made him feel... proud, to provoke the redhead's genuine enthusiasm.

"Are you ready for your first flight?"

"I am. I really am. I... I trust you..."

Eddie took a deep breath.

Their skin started to merge into one, the symbiote's body recovering Edward's, like a dark oil that engulfed his limbs and finished by closing around his face.

The Bat's posture changed, both of them crouched on the edge of the roof, the wings stretched then folded mildly on their back.

From angelic vision, the entity haunting this roof turned into a terrifying gargoyle watching over.

"Do not worry, Eddie," the large mouth full of spiky teeth murmured in a surprisingly soft intonation. "I've got us."

I know, Edward responded internally, what the symbiote naturally perceived. I trust you.

As if these words were the magical code or a command that triggered the alien's next movements, he abruptly jumped from their spot... and fully unfolded his wings, in order to propel them farther toward the sky.

Bruce noticed the pure, intense euphoria radiating from his human, mixed with the adrenaline and a tiny dose of remaining apprehension.

"I told you, Eddie," the Bat gloated. "Freedom is a delightful feeling."

Edward couldn't agree more.

This is truly what the wings embodied: freedom. And right here right now as they were flying together into the night, Bruce was so happy to share this incredible bonding moment out of time with his dear little human host.

....................

Read “Wings” on AO3 here Discover the rest of the DC Symbiotes Series on AO3 here

#fanfiction #ao3 writer #Symbiotes of the DC Universes #snippet #this one is kinda wholesome #riddlebat #edward nygma #edward nashton #bruce wayne #host!edward nygma #symbiote!bruce wayne #winged symbiote #it must be a thing #either ways it's a bat-symbiote thing #stephanie brown #jason todd #Stephanie Brown & Edward Nygma #Edward Nygma & Jason Todd

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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Headcanons for SBI Sibling!Parrot Hybrid!Reader

(A/N): ope, went a little overboard with this one (also it’s not proofread, so sorry about any mistakes)

You have wings on your back (the feather pattern depends on what parrot floats your boat)

If you’re a Scarlet Macaw, Blue-and-Yellow Macaw, or Chestnut-Fronted Macaw, then you have black lines on your cheeks and heavy black lines around your eyes (think Hawks from bnha but less pointy)

If you are a Hyacinth Macaw, you have yellow markings around your eyes and mouth

If you’re a cockatiel, you have a killer mohawk/hair that is always very pointy and orange circles on your cheeks (how cute!)

I have a feeling that your hair is incredibly soft

Very sensitive wings

I feel like your teeth would be sharp and your nails would normally be fast-growing, long, and sharp

You tilt your head like impossibly far when you’re confused or trying to hear something better

Like your ear would almost be touching your shoulder

The head movements are very jerky and kinda just happen on their own when you hear something so you would have a lot of neck pain : (

You’re allergic to chocolate : (

I feel like people would underestimate you greatly and think you’re nothing except the ditzy comedic relief

Parrots are actually very intelligent

It bums you out to hear people say things like that behind your back when they think you can’t hear, but you try to not let them get to you

You give the best cuddles and are very affectionate with the people you’re close to (you’re also very cautious of strangers)

You’re also very in tune with the emotions of the people around you

You see someone sad? Head nuzzles and wing hugs

You see someone angry? You deescalate the situation the best you can and make sure they’re ok afterwards

You can dilate and contract your pupils rapidly at will

You may or may not stare at people doing it until they notice you staring or until they get creeped out

You fuck hard with any type of seed, nut, or fruit

When you get excited, it’s literally so cute??

Like you do everything parrots do

Little happy pitter patters with your feet, flutter your wings, your pupils contract and dilate rapidly, you make a ton of mob sounds

You’re easily excitable, hyper, and happy most of the time

It makes everyone happy to see you so excited so they would often go out of their way to get you things that make you happy

“Hey (y/n) I have some extra melon seeds if you want em!”

*Pupils contract and dilate rapidly*

You are loud

Like very loud

And very talkative

Like everyone knows where you are at all times

If you’re quiet and they know you’re around, either something is very wrong or they’re about to get pranked

God forbid you start to scream, your scream is loud enough to deafen someone for a brief amount of time and would leave everyone’s ears ringing for days on end

The mere mention of yours and Tommy's names together in one sentence is enough to give Philza a headache (someone give this poor man a couple of advils and a long vacation)

You two are literal demons when you’re together

Very chaotic relationship

You both like to fuck with people by sneaking up behind them

You would make mob sounds and Tommy would jump them before you two made a break for it

You and Tommy almost got killed by Techno a few times, but in your opinion the look on his face was 100% worth it every time

I feel like you would cart him up and down from the towers he builds

He could relate to being stereotyped as the stupid loud one, so he recognizes right away when you’re sad about it and will try to cheer you up

His main go to is the jukebox

Oh my god if he plays his jukebox around you, you go full send with your dancing

*AGGRESSIVE HEADBANGING*

He would laugh at your awful dancing, but he would join you eventually

Cat and Mellohi go hard

Speaking of music, Wilbur uses you as a walking soundboard

He needs a sound sample? You better prepare for spending most of your day recreating the sound

He needs back up vocals? You spend most of your day listening to his voice and other singers so you could replicate it

You don’t want to disappoint him so you try extra hard to appease his picky music composition

You kinda stress yourself out over it sometimes

When he notices (which he will, he’s very perceptive), he immediately calls it a day and has some sibling bonding time

You both bond over liking to eat strange things

Amazon macaws like to lick clay deposits on riverbanks so you like to have some on you at all times to lick when you get stressed

Wilbur carries some in a bag in his pocket and you carry a bag of sand

Whenever one of you notices the other has a rough day, you give each other your respective stuff

You have to be sneaky with it though, Philza always takes away nonedible stuff from his children if he sees them trying to eat it (he has good intentions tho)

It always looks like a drug deal

With Techno, I feel like he would find you incredibly annoying at first with how loud you are

He would actually start to hate you when you started to sneak up behind him

It got to the point to whenever he would hear your voice he would get irrationally mad and have to leave the house for a few hours

He, like everyone outside your family, would think you were useless and incredibly stupid

That was until he passed Tommy’s room one day and overheard you crying and telling Tommy about your insecurities

He would spend the next few days ignoring you bc he felt bad

He would spend those days contemplating on why he treated you like he did

Coming to the realization that you were likely trying to get closer to him and you were just being yourself, making him feel like the biggest piece of shit

He totally had no idea how to confront you about this, so naturally he went to Philza (that man was literally so happy that his children were gonna start to get along)

He would spend the day gathering golden melons because he found out that you’d never tried golden melons before from Philza

When he approached you one day with an apology and some golden melons, you were suspicious at first

He hated you, so why would he get you these things if he didn’t need anything from you?

Quickly finding that his apology is genuine and he felt incredibly bad for treating you like that over the years

You picked up on his guilt pretty quickly and made quick work to reassure him

He would take you on short trips and would soon find that you’re very useful in detecting mobs and deterring creepers with cat noises

He would never admit it, but he loves it when you would scare Tommy or Wilbur, thinking it’s hilarious

You also found out that carrying a seven and a half foot tall piglin hybrid was incredibly difficult to do, especially when flying

You two managed to get only about ten feet above the ground before your wings gave out under the strain and you fell on him

“(Y/n) has earned the achievement ‘When Pigs Fly’” flashed on everyone’s comm tablets that day

That wasn’t fun trying to explain to Philza

Philza would be ecstatic to have someone to fly with that he didn’t have to carry

He would take you on flights when you had too much energy

Sometimes racing each other and competing to do tricks midair (which sometimes you both rope your brothers into judging)

Late night flights when you need to get your mind off from something

Watching the sunrise together in silence for once

Bonding over being able to see ultraviolet light when everyone else couldn’t

You always give him the shiny things you come across and he gives you your favorite snacks

He always fusses over your wings, sometimes preening them for you

Helping each other through molts

Matches your excitement sometimes when you’re really happy

You feel bad whenever you hear stories of how difficult you were as a baby

He’s quick to reassure you that raising you was worth it and you turned out to be a great person

But he wouldn’t be lying when he said you were a difficult infant

Your terrible twos stage? His literal hell

Philza swears he can still hear ringing from whenever you would throw tantrums as a toddler, even years after you left your toddler age

He also still has some scars from when you went through your biting phase (teething was awful for you, his poor baby)

But he’s happy he was the one that raised you, he genuinely enjoys your presence

If you’re in a really affectionate mood he is more than willing to let you cuddle up to him while he reads a book or something

WING HUGS WING HUGS WING HUGS WIN-

When he’s had a long day and is stressed out, you immediately pick up on that and do everything in your power to make sure your brothers are quiet and behaved, try to find out what made him so stressed, and sometimes go out of your way to take care of it for him

You try to be the one taking care of him for once as much because he’s taken care of you so well throughout the years

He can tell if you’re overwhelmed or upset just with one glance at your ruffled feathers and your rapidly dilating and contracting pupils

Immediately pulling you out of the situation and letting you talk it out

Whenever he finds you sad about your insecurities, he points out every part of your personality that he loves

That’s before he hunts down the person that made you feel like this (he really lives up to his title of ‘The Angel of Death’)

Overall, you wouldn’t trade your family for the world

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #headcanons

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obeymeluv · 3 years ago

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Demon Baby Headcanons: A Reference for “The Baby Assignment” Project

It made more sense to post my headcanons as a single thing since I’ll be working on “The Baby Assignment” headcanons in between the “Quick! Kiss Me!” miniseries.

These will be hinted at throughout “The Baby Assignment” pieces and I just wanted to put them all together. Keep in mind these are demon baby headcanons. I don’t really have any idea about angel baby headcanons since I’m card locked in chapter 21 :/

I think I got them all. I can’t really think right now.

Warning for one headcanon about human eating (obviously discouraged in the Devildom). I wanted to put in a section about how the Devildom handles bad parents (hint: logic first, then with justice) but I wasn’t vibing with it. Didn’t do it. No worries.

Demon children are usually born small but develop quickly until they stagnate around “teenage” years. Most babies (ironically) weight at least 6 pounds. It’s VERY rare to get a smaller baby and they must be taken care of EXTREMELY well

Their eyes will open within an hour or two of delivery and will be their lifelong color

Because they’re typically raised in the darkness of the Devildom and learn to flourish in the shadows, demon babies really struggle with exposure to light. It hurts their eyes and makes them cry. They should be shielded from light until they’re about a year old or show increased tolerance. Unless they need glasses or have a birth defect, most children appear to tolerate light with no problem between 4-6 years old.

Hybrid children are an exception (and hard to record for the census given how many subspecies of demon there are and all the magical co-mingling), but full-born demon children typically nest and seek out sources of heat to stay warm until they’re able to walk, talk, and do more for themselves. They tend to attach to the warmer parent.

Devildom childcare advocates recommend swaddling the child in parents’ clothes or clothes of relatives because it keeps them warm and orients their brain to who the main family members are. Pyjamas are a suitable exception but parents and close family should make an effort to show the child their scent

Demon children latch, and not just on their milk-producing parent. Within the first month of life the tiniest baby talons come out and allows the child to latch onto the clothes/skin of their caretakers. Full demon children latch and can maintain their grip/fully support themself in moments of stress, aggravation, fear, and in moments of cuddling. It is still recommended to support the child with an arm because they will get tired. Half-demon children should be supplemented with an arm or carrying device until the full extent of their latching ability is determined

Latching is also critical to scent development. It is an instinct of the child to tuck itself into or around those that will protect them. Unless absolutely sure of their safety, they tend to latch onto the stronger parent. When they feel safe, they usually latch to the other parent or try to make a nest with both

For babies who latch or show interest in latching, being semi-naked or completely naked is recommended. Their parents’ scent is stronger and seems to be preferred this way.

Devildom children don’t really crawl. The best way it can be described is “skitter”. You’ll hear their little claws go. Most parent describe their children moving in a lupine manner, on all fours. they like to stay low to the ground and move faster than human children.

There have been reports of children climbing up cabinets, walls, and onto structures like chandeliers and fans. This is part of their hunting instinct and preps their claws for the different things they will encounter/handle as an adult.

Most demon children develop their “Devildom” vocal chords first and will define parents/family by individual growls/shrieks. If other languages are not encouraged in the household, it is not unusual for a child to stay in this stage until two or three. They typically gain muscle control/development to speak real words by they end of their first year

Devildom babies aren’t as tactile as human babies but will definitely show preferences. It’s a lot easier to figure out what a Devildom baby hates. They’ll be quick to show you.

Devildom babies purr to show contentment and can start purring within 1-2 months of birth. This is one of the first signs of affection.

Other signs of affection include petting the parent or trying to get them in a state of skin-to-skin contact (see latching, above), snuggling, headbutting, showing nesting behaviors, and gently teething on them.

Full-blooded demon children can expect to cut fangs starting at the end of the first year. They will get their first full set of fangs near age two. For children who can only inherit one set of teeth, these fangs will be with them for life. They will naturally harden and lengthen to a full adult set as the body grows.

Mixed demon children are special cases where fangs are concerned because some species have extra sets of fangs, defense mechanisms where they lose and regrow teeth, and other things of that nature. For most species, teeth are seen in the first year of life.

Fangs typically look pointy and shark-like until they get a little older (somewhere between 3-6, it varies amongst children) and the teeth start to differentiate themselves in a “human-like” smile.

Children with fangs should have a greater variety in their diet for the sake of tooth shaping and development. Fangs need to be kept sharp. They can have slightly tougher food or snacks, and may display the “kill shake” when eating. This is normal. Supplement with teething toys as needed, but keep a close eye on them. It’s best to engage them a little like a tug of war to help develop the biting instinct and lengthening of the teeth.

Tails, like fangs, do not have set rules for growth or appearance. Some children of purer lineages get them as early as 3, and some get them as they move into the teenage years. There is no set age for tail development. If the child itches their back/bottom a lot, tends to streak, and shows general aggravation or discomfort, it’s best to take them to a health specialist to see if they’re developing a tail.

It is a similar scenario for wings. The child may cry or scratch a lot. Be prepared for biting and wrestling your children into shirts. Back rubs, cold creams, and soft textures are recommended. Though VERY RARE, some children can develop their wings within the first year of life. It is more normal to see them sprout between the ages of 3-5

Should the child develop wings young, they will take on a life of their own. They will twitch and flap at random times and this is normal. This is the child’s brain working wing movement into the subconscious, just as it would breathing. Devildom children who have wings go on to move them reflexively and this is how that starts.

Keep an eye on your child. They will try to hover and may be able to pull their body weight and travel short distances (about 30 seconds) within the first year of having them. Within two or three years they will have better altitude and some sense of guiding with a bit of a struggle. Prepare to be dive-bombed “accidentally” and for things to be broken in bad landings

There have been reports of full-blooded and half-blooded Devildom children gaining night vision. You can determine if your child has this by whether their eyes grow in the dark. Remember the rule of thumb: the older the demon lineage, the brighter their eyes. If obtained, this stays with them for life. The degree of clarity varies amongst children.

Children may develop horns. All horns start out as tiny velvet nubs once they break the surface of the scalp. Prior to breaking the surface, the child may scratch at their scalp excessively, rub their heads on things, or headbutt tougher surfaces to counteract the pressure and itchiness they feel. Scratching their head or brushing their hair may help but nothing can be done until the horns breach. If the horns do not breach, take them to a healthcare facility. They may need help.

Horns should be watched closely as they start to take shape. Some shapes need to be regularly broken or shaved to prevent the child from harming themselves

Children are driven to develop their horns and may try to shave off the velvet lining by rubbing against family members or hard surfaces. This is normal.

It is not uncommon for children to try to “lock horns” with each other when younger. This is another way to shave off the lining. Some studies indicate that this type of play may make them develop faster. If one of the parents have horns, it is encouraged to do this with great care

Although not scientifically proven, the vast majority of Devildom parents swear by rubbing horns to soothe tantrums and put children to sleep. Seems to work. Interestingly, this trait carries on to later stages of life but brings a greater variety of reactions.

It is not uncommon to see growth spurts and great deals of change between the first 7-13 years of life (7-13 by human standards). After this, the demon will stagnate. Their rate of development can vary but demons live for thousands of years so it takes a very long time for signs of aging to occur

Old records suggest that feasting on human souls or the blood of other magical creatures may accelerate this process but these records cannot be confirmed.

Certain activities, such as participating in a pact, are prohibited until the child is 1,800 or older. Their magical capacity is not there and they cannot legally be bound in a pact. If a sorcerer or sorceress is pushing for a pact or you believe a pact has been made in bad faith, a grievance can be filed with the magical review board. If the other party is found guilty, a piece of them may be taken for consumption for the sake of “fairness”. Repeat offenders will be handled by Lord Diavolo (and are usually eaten. This has been “tentatively” amended due to the effort to unite the three realms)

Children who come from very powerful lineages (for example: one of the Seven Lords) may exhibit that key sin trait from a very early age. Some children will be hungrier than others, some will want more attention than others, some will be far stronger and may accidentally break things. Be prepared and parent accordingly.

Those born to succubus/incubi/naga lineages may show signs of charming or hypnotism from the age of two or when they can form sentences. If a member of your family has a natural susceptibility to this, brush up on negating spells and personal reinforcement charms.

#Obey Me!#obey me! x reader

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hopesilverheart · 4 years ago

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My sunshine in the snow

(read on ao3)

Pairing: Helen/Aline Rated: Gen Summary: “Faeries get a little bit of a boost in their own realm,” Helen explained with shrug. “I may only be half-Seelie, but it’s enough for the cold not to affect me. I have to say it’s quite nice; being able to enjoy all the snow without having to deal with frostbite.”

“God, you literally have sunshine in your veins,” Aline whispered, caught between amazement and jealousy. “I bet if it started snowing right now, the snowflakes would melt right off you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Helen snorted.

Or: Winters in the Seelie realm are as beautiful as they are cold, but Aline can always count on her own sunshine to make her melt.

For the @malecdiscordserver Advent Calendar

The Seelie realm during winter was one of the most beautiful things Aline had ever seen in her life.

Aline had been to the Seelie Queen’s court plenty of times in her life since her mother had always insisted that maintaining good relations with the Seelies was as useful to a Clave representative as knowing how to fight demons. All in all, Aline had been pulled between dimensions more times than she could count – never mind that she’d never wanted to be a Clave representative in the first place.

However, she’d never really had a reason to go there during the wintertime. Her parents had preferred keeping her close during the colder months, stating that everyone got a little more defensive and a little harder to deal around Christmastime. Aline had never understood their logic, but she also hadn’t been bothered enough by the rule to try and sneak into the other realm unsupervised.

As soon as she’d started dating Helen, however, she’d known things would have to change. She was an adult now and, although her parents still had more influence in her life than she might have liked, she wasn’t about to let them keep her away from the woman she loved.

Helen and Aline had spent the previous Christmas in the shadowhunter world, splitting their time equally between Helen’s family in LA and her family in Idris. It had been a wonderful time, and Aline would be more than glad to repeat the experience at a later date.

This year, however, she refused to let her parents dictate what she was going to do with her time. Helen had expressed an interest in spending Yule in the Seelie realm with her aunt Nene, and Aline had immediately known her family wouldn’t be seeing her that Christmas.

Unfortunately for her, that meant having to deal with complaints every day leading up to the winter solstice. By the time the date of her departure rolled around, Aline was more than ready to get out of her house and away from her overbearing parents.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Her mother asked her one last time as Aline stopped in front of the portal separating Idris from the Seelie world. “We all know how Seelies are with their traditions, and I wouldn’t want them to get offended by your presence. Besides, the holidays won’t be the same without you around.”

“I’m 23, mom, I’m pretty sure you can handle me not being there for Christmas,” Aline sighed, tired of having to use the same arguments over and over again. “Alec told me you’d already planned a joined Christmas Eve with his parents and the other Lightwoods, so I’m sure you’ll have a perfectly nice time.”

“You’ll be here for-”

“Yes mom, I will be here for New Year’s,” Aline rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Do we really need to go over this again? You know how fickle these portals are and I wouldn’t want to miss Helen because you were acting like an overprotective mother hen again.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” the older woman frowned. “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

“Of course you are,” Aline said as calmly as she could manage. “And I appreciate your concern, really, but I need to get going. I love you, alright? I’ll see you next week, I promise!”

She barely got to hear her mother’s answering ‘I love you too’, already halfway through the portal and more than ready to see her girlfriend again. Helen had been spending the past two weeks with her faerie family and friends as well as Mark, her brother, and Aline had missed her more than she cared to admit.

Needless to say, stepping out of the portal and not immediately laying eyes on Helen made her heart sink for just a second.

Only a second, though, because Aline was instantly awestruck by the sheer beauty of the world around her. The Seelie realm had always had an otherworldly, magical feel to it, but this was…

This was something else.

The ground and trees were covered in sparkling snow, making the world seem brighter than Aline had ever seen it, and it took her a second to even focus on anything other than the overwhelming whiteness of the woods. Even more beautiful than the snow, however, were the fireflies flooding the air with their soft lights. It wasn’t even night time, but Aline figured the rules of nature rarely applied to the Seelie realm, and she was honestly too entranced by the flickering lights around her to think about the theoretical side of it all.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, gaping at the glittery world she’d found herself in with wide eyes, but she had a feeling it was an embarrassingly long time. Long enough for Helen to appear behind her and startle her with one of her adorable tinkly giggle.

“You look like my siblings on Christmas morning,” the blonde said with an amused smile, leaning in to peck Aline’s kiss and laughing again when Aline whined at the too-brief touch. “Someone’s feeling affectionate, huh?

“I haven’t seen you in two and a half weeks, sunshine,” Aline pouted. “I feel like I have a right to be as affectionate as I want to be. That’s the longest we’ve been apart outside of official Clave meetings, and I vote that we never go through this again. My parents were about to drive me insane and this time I didn’t even have you around to soothe my nerves.”

“I’m sorry,” Helen chuckled, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic. “I missed you too, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It does,” Aline smiled before tapping her bottom lip impatiently. “I’m pretty sure another kiss would help even more.”

“Is that so?” Helen raised her eyebrows, looking like she was biting back another laugh as she leaned in again and pressed a longer, sweeter kiss to Aline’s lips. The brunette sighed into it, sliding her hands around Helen’s waist and melting against her girlfriend, happily cuddling closer to the other woman’s warm body.

“You’re like my personal heater,” she mumbled against Helen’s lips as the blonde pulled away from the kiss. “Seriously, it’s freezing here. Gorgeous, but also cold as hell. How on earth have you been handling weather like this for the past two weeks?”

“Faeries get a little bit of a boost in their own realm,” Helen explained with shrug. “I may only be half-Seelie, but it’s enough for the cold not to affect me. I have to say it’s quite nice; being able to enjoy all the snow without having to deal with frostbite.”

“God, you literally have sunshine in your veins,” Aline whispered, caught between amazement and jealousy. “I bet if it started snowing right now, the snowflakes would melt right off you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Helen snorted, her ears twitching as she looked up at the sky. “But speaking of snow…”

“Seriously?” Aline groaned. “As if it wasn’t cold enough already. Please tell me there’s a warm spot nearby, because I feel like my fingers are about to fall off.”

“Your fingers are fine,” Helen flicked Aline’s nose gently, although the protective curl of Helen’s fingers around the brunette’s hands didn’t escape Aline’s notice. “But don’t worry, my aunt’s place is only a few minutes away. Just enough time to see what you look like covered in snowflakes. I bet you look stunning.”

“Stop that,” Aline blushed, blowing the first snowflake she spotted towards Helen and laughing when her girlfriend caught it on her tongue, not even shivering at the feeling. “You’re the one who looks beautiful no matter the weather and the place.”

“I think you’re biased,” Helen retorted, but the reddening of her pointy ears gave her away. It took all of Aline’s willpower for her not to kiss the tips of those ears fondly and even then, it was a close call. If it were up to her, she would never stop kissing Helen.

Aline opened her mouth again, words of praise on the tip of her tongue, but one look into Aline’s light eyes had her forgetting how to speak. Her eyes were brighter than ever, enhanced by the white snow around them, and her hair was somehow already covered in snowflakes.

Now Aline wasn’t one to believe in angels and miracles but right then, Helen looked like a physical representation of both those things. Her blond hair shone with flecks of white, and her eyes crinkled up happily as her gaze landed on Aline again.

God, she was beautiful.

“What?” Helen scrunched her nose up, crossing her eyes as though trying to look at herself and find whatever Aline was looking at. “I have snow everywhere on me, don’t I? You certainly do.”

“Yeah, you do,” Aline breathed out. “You look so pretty, sunshine.”

“I-” Helen started, cutting herself off before she could finish her sentence. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Aline smiled, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead before tightening her hold on Helen’s hand and letting the blonde guide her to her aunt’s house without further delay.

And if she intentionally slowed her pace down to admire Helen’s radiant figure for a while longer… Well, no one needed to know.

#Heline #heline fic #my writing #Shadowhunter Advent Calendar #fluff #christmas #helen blackthorn #aline penhallow #girls in love #snowflakes #i love these girls so much #thank god i decided to write them again

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dragonquill · 5 years ago

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Good Omens Fanfic: “Cuddle Theory” Ineffable Husbands

I return with my brand style of self-indulgent fluff.

Tags: Cuddling, inappropriately formatted footnotes, teasing

When he’d thought about what cuddling with Crowley would be like, [1] Aziraphale had rather assumed there would be a certain period of necessary adjustment to find the most comfortable way to press in close with someone who carried perhaps 5% fat over their entire body. This hadn’t dissuaded his imagination; while not at Crowley’s level, Aziraphale’s love of the written word had developed his own ability to daydream satisfactorily. By the time the actual act of cuddling came up between them -some 5700 years or so since its human adaptation - Aziraphale thought he had a fair idea of how flat and bony and generally uncomfortable the act would be.

---

[1] And he had, far longer than Crowley expected - cuddling was an animal invention that humans quickly adapted, and they were still figuring out how to make skins into proper clothes the first time Aziraphale pondered what it must be like to maintain such close contact with another being [1b] and imagined, if not followed through on, asking his only immortal coworker to experiment on the pros and cons of cuddling versus cowering for warmth

[1b] (Stifling? Warm? Nice? They were rather odiferous, these early humans..but that demon he was always running into smelled rather nicely of woodsmoke and something he couldn’t identify [1c] and so perhaps he might be the best one to experiment with? If he wasn’t a demon, of course.)

[1c][cinnamon, he would learn much later]

----

However, he had also, over this time, fallen rather madly in love with Crowley, and so had decided that a certain lack of comfort was perfectly fine if it meant being close to his beloved demon. Anything, in fact, was worth it, now that they could safely be together. Besides, he was nice and soft, and so could be the cuddler and Crowley the cuddlee, if need be.

Read more here or over on Ao3!

What he had not expected was for the moment to come so naturally that he was, in fact, already curled against Crowley’s side, with Crowley’s arm around him and Crowley’s breath ruffling through his curls and Crowley’s voice reading aloud (it had taken so little to convince him, really, and Azirpahale was terribly pleased) when he realized that oh.

He was actually quite comfortable.

“Oh!” he said aloud, startling Crowley mid-word and bringing those lovely yellow eyes toward him, though he couldn’t see them as his cheek was currently snuggled against the demon’s arm. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Surprissse?” Crowley asked, the hiss one of lazy comfort rather than distress, and Aziraphale liked that, too. He liked Crowley truly comfortable, not circling and watching and twitching, but just being , warm and brilliant in Aziraphale’s company.

“Yes, dearest,” Aziraphale said, too happy to stop and consider what he was about to say (and besides, he had stopped and considered for SO long, and wasn’t the point of being on their own side that they could say what they wanted and do what they willed?). “I’d fancied cuddling,” (“ Cuddling?” Crowley bunged in, as if Aziraphale was cursing, but Azirpahale paid him no mind ), “would be a bit of a challenge, but it’s not at all, is it?”

There was a moment of silence, and then, in a low voice that thrummed with something Aziraphale had always secretly known was fond amusement, though he’d spent millenia pretending it was something else, Crowley asked, “A challenge? I need a bit of clarification, Angel.”

“Ah! Well!” Aziraphale moved as if to pull away, but Crowley’s arm was clearly unimpressed with the idea and refused to be of any assistance. Aziraphale resettled rather than engage in a round of wrestling that he would, frankly, win. “You are rather made up of sharp corners, and I’d thought an elbow or three might find its way into my ribcage, but really you’re quite warm and lovely.”

Another beat, and then, incredulous: “You thought I was too skinny to,” the word caught on the demonish tongue, “ cuddle with ?”

Aziraphale lifted his head, trying to see Crowley’s face but catching only his nose and part of an eye. “Well, I’ve never - there’s never been anyone else to try with, has there?” he asked, a bit petulantly. “How was I to know?”

The line of Crowley’s jaw was hard. [2] “Is that why you’re always trying to get me to share your desserts?”

---

[2] This was because he was trying very hard not to laugh, but Azirapahle wasn’t aware of this at the time.

----

Aziraphale sat up, superior strength batting Crowley’s arm away with minimum effort. “My dear , of course not, you must know that I would cuddle-”

Crowley’s mouth was twisted into a strange shape. “You really need another word-”

Azirphale blushed but obligingly and daring said, “ -Canoodle with you no matter what your form! You are the only cu-” he caught himself, “-canoodler in my heart.” He rested a soft hand over his corporation’s chest, eyes wide and beseeching.

One burnished eyebrow rose. “Do you even know what canoodling means, Aziraphale?” he asked, and maybe there was a new sort of hiss to his voice that the angel hadn’t heard before.

Aziraphale sniffed, cheeks still pink. “Of course I do! It means to...to…” he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders as if teaching a lesson, “to kiss and cuddle amorously.”

Crowley tsked. “And here I thought you were a precious innocent.”

“Oh, Crowley, please don’t start -”

“And here you’ve been-”

“Darling.”

“-checking me over for my ability to cuddle amorously .” He was grinning now, a little too broad, the whites of his eyes disappearing behind delighted honey yellow.

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed. “You,” he said accusingly, “are teasing me.”

“I am, Angel, I am. But in my defense, you just confessed that you thought I was uncuddleable, and that you had been thinking about this for some time, and you’d decided I’m too pointy .”

Aziraphale harumphed delicately. “You are pointy,” he argued, even as he pulled his feet up and muscled his way back under Crowley’s arm. His voice softened as Crowley chuckled to himself, and he took long, thin fingers in his own plump ones. “And I would not have you change for the world.”

A little shift, and Crowley asked, “And heaven?”

Aziraphale scoffed again. “You are worth a million of those.”

Crowley snickered. Aziraphale cuddled. Crowley pressed a kiss into the mess of white blond curls. “Canoodling,” he said, on the bark of a laugh.

“Later, darling. Baby steps.” Aziraphale grinned to himself at the indeterminate noise that earned. “For now,” he wiggled happily closer, “you have a chapter to finish.”

If Crowley finished the chapter at a somewhat unacceptable speed for proper reading aloud, Aziraphale made no mention of it. He could be a gentleman, after all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale/crowley #quill writes #good omens fluff #good omens fanfiction

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cromwellharvests-a · 4 years ago

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sexual preferences / record

BOLD - strongly applies / loves . BOLD + ITALIC - somewhat applies / likes . italic - slightly applies / maybe . left blank - uncertain / no opinion . CROSSED OUT - doesn’t apply / hard no .

** indicates verse dependent

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐄

18-21 | 22-25 | 26-29** | 30-33 | 34-37 | 38-41 | 42-45 | 46-49 | 50+

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

( 𝚂𝙴𝚇𝚄𝙰𝙻 )

( 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙲 )

𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒

( 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙴𝚂 )

** for this entire category, honestly. easy? feel attraction almost indiscriminately? more likely than you think

( 𝚃𝚈𝙿𝙴𝚂 )

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 / 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 / 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ( 𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 )

( 𝙷𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 )

4'11" & shorter | 5'0"-5'4" | 5'5"-5'8" | 5'9"-6'0" | 6'1"-6'4" | 6'5"-6'8" | 6'9" & taller

( 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈 )

( 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙴 )

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 / 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒

𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 / 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ( 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃𝚂 )

( 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴 )

( 𝙾𝙵𝙵𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 )

( 𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 )

( 𝚂𝙴𝚇 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴 )

𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍-𝐎𝐍𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

( #-𝙻 )

( 𝙼-𝚉 )

TAGGED BY . stolen from @deathleads against my better judgment

#☼'( ᴊᴜsᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀx & ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴇᴀsʏ [about] )#☼'( ᴀ ʜᴀʙɪᴛ's ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ [isms] )#♥'( 'large breasts' vs 'small breasts' all tiddies are good tiddies when will you learn )#♥'( well I feel sufficiently ablaze; this had no business being so thorough but there's the tea )#♥'( aaaaah easy forgive me for what I've done )#♥'( oh but; obligatory )#♥'( [easy vc] real men get pegged )#☼'( ᴠɪᴇᴡᴇʀ ᴅɪsᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀᴅᴠɪsᴇᴅ [nsfw] )#♥'( i mean it doesn't!!! get more nsfw!! does it!! )#♥'( big tl;dr/psa: do not pull her hair or restrain her. instant triggers. don't do it. )

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preraphaelitepunk · 5 years ago

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Fictober19 Day 19: Of Quiet Contentment and Fainting Couches

Prompt #19: Yes, I admit it, you were right.

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None

On AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843936/chapters/50185667

Everyday rituals had always been soothing to Aziraphale. He wasn’t sure whether this had something to do with his angelic origins or derived more from his tendency toward anxiety under stress, but there was just something utterly lovely about small routines interspersed throughout the day: teatime, wine time, the cozy fuss that was settling in with a good book, his unnecessary reading glasses, and some nibbles.

Right now it was time for the breakfast ritual. Bread was toasting, filling the little kitchen with a homely smell. Eggs were boiling, tomatoes sliced, beans heating sedately in their little pot. Butters and jams waiting on the table. Crowley’s coffee was almost finished brewing, and the kettle for Aziraphale’s tea was just coming to the boil.

It was a moment of quiet bliss, and Aziraphale closed his eyes to savor it more fully. The only thing better would be when Crowley finally woke up and joined him.

A few minutes later, Crowley appeared, sleep-draggled and bleary, shambling over to the table and dropping into a chair. Aziraphale handed him a mug of coffee. “Thanks, angel.”

“You’re welcome, my love. Anything to eat this morning?”

Crowley sniffed, apparently parsing out the cooking smells. “Maybe an egg?”

“Certainly.” Aziraphale plated his own breakfast, drizzled a swirl of brown sauce over his beans because he was feeling particularly fancy, and egg-cupped a soft boiled. The egg cup was one Crowley claimed to despise, with little horns and a pointy tail painted on, but Aziraphale knew better than to listen to that nonsense.

“I was thinking,” he said, giving his beans an artistic swirl of brown sauce, “that we might go antiquing today.”

“Haven’t you got enough antiques in the shop? And your flat?”

“They were bought from new, so they don’t count. And anyway, I’m not necessarily in the mood to buy anything. I just want to have a poke around. Besides, we’ve talked about that: it’s not my flat any more. It’s ours.” Aziraphale applied fig-and-cocoa jam to his toast and bit into it decisively.

“Sure, but the deed is still in your name.” Crowley focused on peeling his eggshell away in strips. “Whatever. I get your point, angel. And if you want to go nosing around the antique shops today, I will be delighted to go with you. Doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we do it together.”

Crowley’s hands were both busy with his egg, so Aziraphale settled for giving the demon’s knee a gentle squeeze. “I feel the same, darling, but thank you for indulging me.”

“That’s what I do, angel,” Crowleys said, smiling lopsidedly back at him. “One big indulger, me.”

*** ***

“Oh, Crowley!” He squeezed Crowley’s hand excitedly. “Wouldn’t this escritoire be just perfect for the back room in the shop?”

Aziraphale could feel him holding back a sigh. “It’s lovely, angel, but where are you going to put it? There’s no space, just like there’s no space for the other twenty-five million things you’ve wanted.”

“There’s always space for beautiful items, dear. It would just be a matter of a discreet miracle or two. There are plenty of pocket dimensions out there that wouldn’t mind sparing me a few extra metres.”

“‘Course. You realize that, if you keep this up, you’ll have more pocket dimension than actual bookshop? Humans will start to notice if your shop keeps expanding infinitely beyond the size of the building.”

Aziraphale pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m lots of fun. You’re just being impractical.”

“Lessons on practicality, from you, darling?”

Crowley just grinned at him, maddeningly calm. “One of us has got to be sensible. Right now it’s my turn.”

They carried on gently bickering throughout the next several shops. Crowley managed to block every proposed acquisition — until the fainting couch. It was gorgeous, a Victorian beast long enough to accommodate even Crowley’s sprawled form, with intricate carving along the legs and the wood framing the raised part of the back: acanthus leaves, pomegranates, and (this was what really sold it) snakes. It had been reupholstered, of course, but it was done respectfully, in period-appropriate heavy crimson velvet.

“I don’t care what objections you raise, Crowley. I am getting this recamier!” Folding his arms resolutely, Aziraphale frowned up at the demon.

“But there’s no space!”

“I will move the sofa in the back room up to the flat, and put this where it used to be. We can have a sofa in the bedroom, then, and no miracles will be necessary.”

Crowley grumbled under his breath, then said, “And how do you expect to get this monstrosity home? It won’t fit in the Bentley, and even if we miracled it to fit, I’m not risking her getting scratched by this thing.”

Aziraphale just smiled primly. “Just wait, darling; it will be perfect, I know.”

The shop did not ordinarily offer delivery, but miraculously decided to make an exception in this case: same-day white-glove delivery, including relocation of the existing sofa upstairs. Crowley protested at this, but Aziraphale overruled him: miracling objects to other locations always carried a slight risk of imprecision if the destination was out of sight, and he wasn’t about to chance dinging his beloved sofa, which embodied so many fond memories.

The actual delivery was a bit of an ordeal, he had to admit. A quick miracle or five cleared a broad path through the shop and flat, so the humans could do the necessary heavy lifting without endangering any books or other treasures, but Aziraphale found the disruption to his carefully organized chaos disturbing. It was also oddly unsettling to have strangers in his private sanctums of the back room and the flat: only he and Crowley belonged there, and he found himself unaccountably resenting the humans’ presence even as he appreciated their help. He barely waited for the door to close behind the delivery people before snapping everything back to its proper, reassuring place, and let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank goodness that’s all over. Tea, darling?”

Crowley shrugged; he was projecting cool indifference, but Aziraphale had seen the tension in his body as he hovered over the delivery people, alert for anything that might endanger Aziraphale’s precious books. The poor dear had worn himself out. “Prefer some wine, actually.”

“Wine it is, then.” Aziraphale went to rummage in his wine stash, returning with two glasses of a rather nice Sangiovese. He handed one to Crowley and settled himself on the new fainting couch, careful to keep his shoes off the upholstery. “Ah, this is lovely.”

Crowley eyed him over the rim of the wineglass. “Better than the old sofa? Was it worth all this kerfuffle?”

Aziraphale made a show of considering the question. “Well, it is rather comfy. But something feels like it’s missing.” He snapped, and a soft cream-colored blanket appeared, draped over the sloping back of the fainting couch. Another snap, and one of his current books popped into his hand. “Much better. But . . . there’s still something missing.”

“Music? Peeled grapes? Scantily clad boys fanning you with ostrich plumes?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “It does feel quite sybaritic, but the only fan boy I want is you, dear.”

“Good answer. Shall I change into a loincloth now, or save that for later?”

“Later, I think. Right now, I think I’d like you to come over here and lie with me. Not that way,” he added, seeing Crowley’s eyebrow raised. “Just to cuddle.”

Grumbling something about the indignity of being expecting cuddling from a demon, Crowley set down his glass and ambled over. “There’s not much room. I’ll have to be practically on top of you.”

“That is rather the idea, darling. Here.” Aziraphale arranged them so that Crowley lay with his back against Aziraphale’s chest, and snuggled an arm around his demon’s waist. “Just so. Isn’t that nice?”

“‘M a demon; I don’t do nice.” There was no heat in it, though, and the way Crowley nestled closer, fitting his cheek against Aziraphale’s shoulder, was far from reluctant.

“Of course not, my love. You just rest there for a while. You must be worn out from supervising the movers so carefully.”

Gradually, the muttering died down and Crowley’s slow, even breathing suggested he’d drifted off. Pleased, Aziraphale read and sipped his wine for the next few hours, sometimes resting his cheek against Crowley’s head or stroking his russet hair.

“‘Snice,” Crowley eventually mumbled, nuzzling against Aziraphale’s neck.

“Very nice,” he agreed, then added because he couldn’t resist needling just a bit, “Whoever would have thought the recamier would work out so well?”

Crowley groaned. “Yes, I admit it, you were right. ’S a good addition. Totally worth it.”

“I’m so glad you agree, love.” Planting a gentle kiss on Crowley’s head, he sighed contentedly. “So very glad indeed.”

#fictober19 #good omens #good omens fanfic #ineffable spouses #ineffable husbands #fluff #antiquing #my fanfic #cuddling #domestic fluff

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years ago

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Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

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enchntments · 5 years ago

Text

SEXUAL PREFERENCES / RECORD

bold - strongly applies / loves .

bold + italic - somewhat applies / likes .

italic - slightly applies / maybe .

left blank - uncertain / no opinion .

crossed out - doesn’t apply / hard no .

SUBJECT APPARENT AGE

18-21 | 22-25 | 26-29 | 30-33 | 34-37 | 38-41 | 42-45 | 46-49 | 50+

SUBJECT GENDER IDENTITY

SUBJECT SPECIES

SUBJECT ORIENTATION

POTENTIAL SEX PARTNERS

SUBJECT INCLINATIONS / HABITS

SUBJECT BODY / APPEARANCE

( height ) 4'11" and shorter | 5'0"-5'4" ( 5'0" ) | 5'5"-5'8" | 5'9"-6'0" | 6'1"-6'4" | 6'5"-6'8" | 6'9" and taller

SUBJECT SOUNDS / NOISES

POTENTIAL LOCATIONS / PLACES

SUBJECT EXPERIENCE

( offspring ) is fertile | is extremely fertile | is infertile | wants to have children because they love kids | wants to have children solely because they need an heir or want someone to carry on their legacy | unsure if they want to have children or not | doesn’t want to have children | gushes over cute babies | has had a kid ( or more ) | has had a grandkid ( or more ) | has forged a close bond with their child ( or children ) | has forged a close bond with their grandchild ( or grandchildren ) | has a distant relationship with their child ( or children ) | has a distant relationship with their grandchild ( or grandchildren )

TURN-ONS / KINKS

#//i had to do it for summer #. —— ⊰ 🌸 : written specifics -- summer

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indyflanery · 5 years ago

Text

。・ SEXUAL PREFERENCES/RECORD゜+.*

bold - strongly applies / loves.

bold + italic - somewhat applies / likes.

italic - slightly applies / maybe.

left blank - uncertain / no opinion.

crossed out - doesn’t apply / hard no.

✧ SUBJECT APPARENT AGE:

18-21 | 22-25 | 26-29 | 30-33 | 34-37 | 38-41 | 42-45 | 46-49 | 50+

✧ SUBJECT GENDER IDENTITY:

✧ SUBJECT SPECIES:

✧ SUBJECT ORIENTATION:

(sexual)

(romantic)

✧ POTENTIAL SEX PARTNERS:

(species)

(types)

✧ SUBJECT INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

✧ SUBJECT BODY/APPEARANCE:

(visage)

(height)

4'11" and shorter | 5'0"-5'4" | 5'5"-5'8" | 5'9"-6'0" | 6'1"-6'4" | 6'5"-6'8" | 6'9" and taller

(body)

(wardrobe)

✧ SUBJECT SOUNDS/NOISES:

✧ POTENTIAL LOCATIONS/PLACES:

♢ SUBJECT EXPERIENCE:

(firsts)

(love life) - MOST VERSE DEPENDENT

(offspring)

(attractions) - SOME VERSE DEPENDENT

(sex life) - SOME VERSE DEPENDENT

✧ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

(#-L)

(M-Z)

TAGGED BY. No one

TAGGING. Any one

#headcanon #n.sfw #updated #cut for length

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drdumaurier · 6 years ago

Text

bold - strongly applies / loves . bold + italic - somewhat applies / likes . italic - slightly applies / maybe . left blank - uncertain / no opinion . crossed out - doesn’t apply / hard no .

(Under the cut)

SUBJECT APPARENT AGE

18-21 | 22-25 | 26-29 | 30-33 | 34-37 | 38-41 | 42-45 | 46-49 | 50+

SUBJECT GENDER IDENTITY

SUBJECT SPECIES

SUBJECT ORIENTATION

( sexual )

( romantic )

POTENTIAL SEX PARTNERS

( species )

( types )

SUBJECT INCLINATIONS / HABITS

SUBJECT BODY / APPEARANCE

( visage )

( height )

4'11" and shorter | 5'0"-5'4" | 5'5"-5'8" | 5'9"-6'0" | 6'1"-6'4" | 6'5"-6'8" | 6'9" and taller

( body )

( wardrobe )

SUBJECT SOUNDS / NOISES

POTENTIAL LOCATIONS / PLACES

SUBJECT EXPERIENCE

( firsts )

( love life )

( offspring )

is fertile | is extremely fertile | is infertile | wants to have children because they love kids | wants to have children solely because they need an heir or want someone to carry on their legacy | unsure if they want to have children or not ( verse dependent ) | doesn’t want to have children ( verse dependent ) | gushes over cute babies | has had a kid ( or more ) | has had a grandkid ( or more ) | has forged a close bond with their child ( or children ) | has forged a close bond with their grandchild ( or grandchildren ) | has a distant relationship with their child ( or children ) | has a distant relationship with their grandchild ( or grandchildren )

( attractions )

( sex life )

TURN-ONS / KINKS

( #-L )

( M-Z )

Tagged by: @leftmemories (thank you!!!) Tagging: @gentlegently @silvaraoul @capitanmuerto @coinkill (just ‘cause I can) & who wants to do it!

#;You can never completely know anyone [about]#;nsfw #(I really hope I didn't forget to bold or italicise anything)#(also yes she's kinky but with some limits)#(AND YES SHE HAS STRETCHMARKS AND YOU CAN ALL FIGHT ME ABOUT IT)

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aiirn · 6 years ago

Text

。・ SEXUAL PREFERENCES/RECORD゜+.*

bold - strongly applies / loves. italic - somewhat applies / likes. left blank - uncertain / no opinion. crossed out - doesn’t apply / hard no.

✧ SUBJECT APPARENT AGE:

18-21 | 22-25 | 26-29 | 30-33 | 34-37 | 38-41 | 42-45 | 46-49 | 50+ ( His answer always changes, hm. )

✧ SUBJECT GENDER IDENTITY:

✧ SUBJECT SPECIES:

✧ SUBJECT ORIENTATION:

(sexual)

(romantic)

✧ POTENTIAL SEX PARTNERS:

(species)

( He’s not REALLY picky since he’s the adventurous type. )

(types)

✧ SUBJECT INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

✧ SUBJECT BODY/APPEARANCE:

(looks)

(height)

4'11" and shorter | 5'0"-5'4" | 5'5"-5'8“ | 5'9”-6'0" | 6'1"-6'4" | 6'5"-6'8" | 6'9" and taller

(body)

(wardrobe)

✧ SUBJECT SOUNDS/NOISES:

✧ POTENTIAL LOCATIONS/PLACES:

♢ SUBJECT EXPERIENCE:

(firsts)

(love life)

(offspring)

(attractions)

(sex life)

✧ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

(#-L)

(M-Z)

TAGGED BY. @foxxheat

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foxxheat · 6 years ago

Text

。・ SEXUAL PREFERENCES/RECORD゜+.*

bold - strongly applies / loves. italic - somewhat applies / likes. left blank - uncertain / no opinion. crossed out - doesn’t apply / hard no.

✧ SUBJECT APPARENT AGE:

18-21 | 22-25 | 26-29 | 30-33 | 34-37 | 38-41 | 42-45 | 46-49 | 50+ (Actual: 1003)

✧ SUBJECT GENDER IDENTITY:

✧ SUBJECT SPECIES:

✧ SUBJECT ORIENTATION:

(sexual)

(romantic)

✧ POTENTIAL SEX PARTNERS:

(species)

he’ll try anything once as long as they identify as male. Can even be female sexed, as long as they identify as male or nonbinary and they look good. That said he’s never encountered a transgendered person before so the concept is foreign to him as it applies to humans.

(types)

✧ SUBJECT INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

✧ SUBJECT BODY/APPEARANCE:

(looks)

(height)

4'11" and shorter | 5'0"-5'4" (5'3") | 5'5"-5'8“ | 5'9”-6'0" | 6'1"-6'4" | 6'5"-6'8" | 6'9" and taller

(body)

(wardrobe)

✧ SUBJECT SOUNDS/NOISES:

✧ POTENTIAL LOCATIONS/PLACES:

♢ SUBJECT EXPERIENCE:

(firsts)

[All very verse dependent - But Tielo “loves�� many they just don’t survive usually ;3]

(love life)

(offspring)

(attractions)

(sex life)

✧ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

(#-L)

(M-Z)

TAGGED BY. @banditborn

TAGGING. @hellrager @airxn (both boys ♥) @loveyourfears @hellrexgn @celestialspitfire @grvntcd

#{ ◘ don't threaten me with a good time | meme }

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