#rhagfyre writes

[deeisace]

It's so interesting they're named for the planets rather than the gods! Alchemy and the like, I suppose, beyond my ken, but very interesting nonetheless

I remember reading that Rhagfyr was about the shortened days, somewhere, thank you for confirming that! ^^

There’s no listing for “foreshortening” in my old dictionary (it’s from the ‘50s, and 200 pages long compared to my modern one from school that’s over 400 and with much smaller writing), but there is one for foresee (rhagweled), and forethought (rhagfeddwl) in the english bit, and if you flip back to the welsh section you get things like rhagfynegi (to foretell) and rhagofal (precaution) and rhag blaen (forthwith, at once)

rhag is before/against/from and as a prefix, here, ante- fore- or pre-, and I didn’t catch it before cs my brain is not very turned on for middle-of-resulting-word mutations, but fyr is a mutation of byr, meaning short (or brief)! 

If you go to that listing, if you’re interested, you’re also told that byrbryd means “luncheon” - bryd itself means impulse or intent, so I spose that might be another mutation - pryd gives us “season, time, occasion”, or otherwise “form, shape, beauty”, apparently. Brief occasion? Short time? I can’t see it’s based on the form/shape/beauty definition, tho I suppose even a short lunch (compared to a longer supper, I imagine) is a lovely thing to have, or can be, if you make it so

None of these things are at all connected or useful, I’m just rambling now

Instead of doing immediately-useful things, my evening's been spent using my 1950s Welsh dictionary to try and work out what the month words mean

Not all of them do, Ebrill is just April

And actually idk what April is from either, maybe I should get my 70s English dictionary out next

But uhhh a bit of a list?

I couldn't find anything for January/Ionawr, except that ion is Lord

Mawrth/March is after Mars, the god

Mai just says May, but there's a listing above that says "mai - that it is"

Gorffennaf/July - gorffen is "end", so gorffen af, gorffen haf, "end of the summer"??

Medi/September - medi is "to reap" - harvest month!

Hydref/October - autumn!

The closest I got to December, Rhagfyr is rhagof, "before thee" - the. The one before January?? Idk my Welsh isn't good enough I can speculate on centuries-old word mutations

Days of the week, I had a look for too

They're mostly named for gods, same as the English ones

Tuesday/Mawrth, Mars (same as March) - in English this is for Tyr

Wednesday/Mercher, Mercury - in English this is for Odin, Woden's Day - the Welsh is cognate (???) with Romance languages tho, like Mercredi an such

Thursday/Iau, Jove or Jupiter - in English this is for Thor

Friday/Gwener, Venus - in English this is for Frigg

Saturday/Sadwrn, Saturn (same in English)

I haven't a listing for Sul/Sunday tho

Monday, tho, idk if this is the right root, doubt it, but Llun is "shape" "figure" or "form"

I've looked up them on Wikipedia, and that says that all these Norse gods in the Welsh are associated with the Roman gods the English ones are named for, which is interesting

Idk how much this is cs the book I'm looking at is 73 years old, but y'know

It's not quite exact, I spose

Like, Friday/Gwener is for Frigg (goddess of marriage), or Venus (goddess of love)

Tuesday is for Tyr (god of single combat) or Mars (god of war)

Thursday, Jove/Jupiter (sky and thunder), or Thor (thunder etc) - this one matches!

Wednesday doesn't quite tho, Mercury is a messenger, god of trade, and Odin is like wisdom and battle, so far as I can tell

This is not really very interesting, unless you like etymology

I'm gonna track down my English dictionary to find out what the English months etymologies are now, cs that's like. Super useful.

[rhagfyre]

something so magic about you

Author: queer-omenss

Words: 2.1k

Rating: G (just fluff, really)

Summary: It was a week after the armageddon-that-wasn’t and while Crowley felt more comfortable now, knowing that their respective head offices were leaving them alone (at least for now), he was still terrified of admitting his feelings for Aziraphale, whether that be to the angel or to himself.

basically just some first kiss fluff between everyone’s favorite ineffable idiots husbands !!

Read it on AO3 here

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6:56. Aziraphale was running late. He should have left the bookshop ten minutes ago if he was going to make it to dinner on time. As he locked the door of the shop, he briefly considered using angelic means to get himself there, but he did quite enjoy more human methods of transportation. Stepping up to the curb, the angel hailed a cab and arrived at the Ritz only ten minutes late. He paid and thanked the driver, straightening his jacket and vest before entering the restaurant. As he entered, he spotted Crowley at a circular table not far from where Aziraphale was standing. The demon turned and gave a small wave, and Aziraphale hurried over, feeling a flush creep onto his cheeks. He hoped Crowley wouldn’t notice. 

The angel slid into the seat opposite the demon, straightening his bow tie as he did so. 

“Agh I am so sorry I’m late!” he said, and he seemed rather distressed over it, Crowley noticed.

The demon debated reaching out for Aziraphale’s hand, which was sitting on the table, to comfort him, but changed his mind.

“Don’t worry about it, angel.” he reassured him, giving a small but genuine smile. Aziraphale didn’t look any less concerned. 

“But I’m late, Crowley! I’ve made you wait!” Aziraphale continued, wringing his hands. This time Crowley moved before he could stop himself, reaching out to grasp each of the angel’s hands in his own. To stop him fretting, Crowley told himself. This was definitely the only reason why he did that, and his heart was certainly not beating 1000 beats per minute at the feeling of the warmth from Aziraphale’s hands. 

“Really, angel, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Crowley assured him, giving Aziraphale’s hands a reassuring squeeze before pulling his own away, as if he finally realized what he was doing. He felt heat flush his neck, and hoped the angel wouldn’t see. Crowley forced his heart to stop beating out of his chest, and gave Aziraphale a soft smile.

Aziraphale was somewhat relieved by Crowley’s reassurances, though he was certainly slightly thrown off when the demon had grasped his hands, and, moments later, surprisingly disappointed when he had pulled them away again. There was a moment of silence before either spoke again. 

“Wine?” Crowley asked, picking up the bottle in front of them, old and undoubtedly quite expensive. Aziraphale nodded, holding his glass up so Crowley could pour the deep red liquid into it. Aziraphale swirled it around and took a sip, sighing slightly as he did so. It was a very good wine. He caught Crowley gazing at him. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes.

“What?” he asked. 

Crowley blinked rapidly when he realized he had been staring at the angel and made an effort to appear more nonchalant in the chair. 

“Oh nothing, angel, nothing.” he replied. Oh but it certainly was something, though the angel needn’t know that. It was a week after the armageddon-that-wasn’t and while Crowley felt more comfortable now, knowing that their respective head offices were leaving them alone (at least for now), he was still terrified of admitting his feelings for Aziraphale, whether that be to the angel or to himself. Aziraphale was still looking at him curiously when the waiter came over to take their order. Crowley never ate very much, so Aziraphale ordered some sort of fancy seafood platter for them to share. 

They passed the time waiting for their food to come by discussing Aziraphale’s bookshop. How many customers he had to turn away today, if he considered making it an online shop. When their meal arrived, along with a second bottle of wine, seeing as they’d already finished the first one, the talking ceased as they began to eat. Well, Aziraphale ate. Crowley had approximately one (1) prawn before sliding the rest of the tray over to Aziraphale. The angel frowned but did not protest. He would never turn down extra food. Crowley swirled his wine around in his glass as he leaned back in the chair watching Aziraphale eat. The warm lighting in the restaurant caused the angel’s hair to glow a sort of gold. Crowley could feel the warmth radiating off him. Something inside him made Crowley want to press himself up against the angel to soak up the warmth, and he wasn’t sure if it was just the cold-blooded snake part. The demon sat there, gazing at the angel while he finished the seafood and patted his lips clean with a napkin, looking satisfyingly full. 

“Mmph, absolutely scrumptious.” Aziraphale sighed, patting his stomach. He looked so pleased, so… content. Crowley was glad he was wearing his sunglasses so Aziraphale couldn’t see his expression. It was moments like this, the seemingly normal, domestic things, that made Crowley fall even more in love with Aziraphale. When the angel was carefree, unburdened by the worries of who might be watching, what might happen. It really hit Crowley then, that that was what he had been feeling for thousands of years. Love. Of course he knew it before this moment, at the Ritz. But maybe, just now, when it was just them and no sides, no head offices. No consequences. Maybe now he had let himself feel it in the full, unsuppressed way he had wanted to for so long. And as that realization hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks, he felt himself shakily setting his now empty wine glass onto the table. Aziraphale noticed the slight tremors in Crowley’s usually smooth, fluid motions and frowned, worried. 

“Are you alright, dear?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Crowley nodded. “Yeah just… too much wine, I think.” They hadn’t even finished the second bottle. Aziraphale frowned even deeper, but decided not to pester him further. Not here, not now, not in this public place. He flagged the waiter down and asked for the cheque. When Crowley reached for his wallet, Aziraphale stopped him.

“No, my dear, my treat.” Aziraphale assured him, causing Crowley to slowly replace his wallet into his pocket. 

“Thanks, angel.” he replied, his voice weaker than he meant it to be. Once the bill was paid, the two immortals rose, tucking their chairs back in. As they stepped out into the warm London breeze, Crowley turned left. “Bentley’s this way.” he said by way of explanation, but he was stopped by Aziraphale’s hand on his arm before he could make it more than a few steps.

“You are absolutely not driving in this state,” he admonished gently, still unsure as to what ‘state’ the demon was actually in. “We’ll take a cab.” Aziraphale hesitated, unsure of where they were to take the cab to. Crowley sensed the angel’s uncertainty and provided an answer. 

“The bookshop is good.”

Aziraphale nodded, flagging down a cab and opening the door, waiting for Crowley to slide inside before he followed. The car started moving before Aziraphale could get his seatbelt on, and when the driver took a sharp turn it sent him sliding into Crowley, the demon catching him with gentle arms. 

“Seatbelts, angel. They’re important.” he tisked, his voice tainted with laughter, but made no move to remove his arms from where they were wrapped around the angel, one between Aziraphale’s shoulder and the seat back, and one propping up his other shoulder. Though it was a matter of moments before Aziraphale moved and buckled himself in, it felt like eons. The warmth of the angel had seeped in to Crowley, so warm and so Aziraphale, that when the angel moved away, it was like a blast of cold air hitting Crowley’s skin. He crossed one leg over the other making himself into a tighter tangle of limbs than he was normally seen in. Aziraphale noticed this and frowned. Again. Something was off with his demon. And then he froze. He hadn’t meant to think it. Hadn’t meant to add the possessive article before ‘demon’. Hadn’t meant to… But then maybe he had, subconsciously. In the week following the not-so-end of the world, Aziraphale had let himself think more about his feelings for Crowley. He knew he had some, though for the longest time, hundreds of years at least, he wouldn’t let himself give them much thought. Foolish. What would Upstairs think? But now, with no interference from Upstairs for what he hoped would be a while, he had started giving those feelings some attention. He knew he thought of Crowley as more than a friend. Anyone would, he reasoned, if one were to spend 6000 years with someone. His train of thought was interrupted as the cab came to a halt in front of the bookshop. They hopped out, paid the driver, and slipped into the building, Aziraphale ensuring the ‘CLOSED’ sign was hanging in the window before drawing the blinds. He entered the back room to find Crowey already sprawled out on the couch, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. 

Determined to figure out what had Crowley so bothered, Aziraphale pulled up a large pouf in front of the couch and sat on it, causing Crowley to sit up and lean against the back of the sofa, facing Aziraphale. Slowly, Aziraphale reached out a hand and tapped softly on the demon’s glasses, his eyebrows raised in question. Crowley nodded slightly, and Aziraphale gently removed the dark glasses from his face. Crowley blinked once, and Aziraphale sat, mesmerized by his eyes for a moment before coughing lightly and placing the glasses on the desk behind him. 

“What is it, angel?” Crowley asked, tilting his head slightly, looking sort of like a confused puppy. Aziraphale hesitated.

“Are- are you alright, Crowley?” he asked, and Crowley could see the genuine concern on the angel’s face.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”

“It’s, well, at dinner, you seemed… seemed sort of.. off?” Aziraphale said nervously, before giving a soft, half-hearted chuckle. “You said you’d had too much wine, but I’ve never seen you get that… shaky after only a bottle and a half.”

Crowley fidgeted slightly, long fingers drawing idle shapes into the couch. 

“Maybe I’m just tired.” he said rather unconvincingly. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “Its… its…” he started, unable to find the right words. “Argh!” he huffed, frustrated, flinging himself up off the couch, pacing off to the side. Aziraphale turned to watch him.

“Take your time, dear, it’s alright.” he said softly.

Crowley laced his fingers together behind his head as he paced, then flung his arms back down.

“It’s… it’s you, angel!” he said, finally, stopping his pacing and coming to stop in front of the angel. He looked away, out the window, into the street that had gone dark. Aziraphale was puzzled.

“Me?” he asked, brow creasing in confusion. Crowley let out an exasperated sound, a mix between a sigh and a shout.

“Yes! You! You, you, you-” Crowley clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. “You are just, argh, just-” he stopped again, struggling to express his thoughts.

Aziraphale reached out and gently tugged Crowley’s arm, guiding him to sit back down on the sofa in front of him. Aziraphale scooched the pouf closer, till their knees were just brushing. Crowley sank onto the couch, his head in his hands, braced on his knees. Aziraphale leaned forward and laid a hand on the demon’s knees, causing him to raise his head. Their faces were mere inches apart. Crowley took a deep breath, steadying himself. 

“You’re just so… so god- so satan- so someone-damned perfect.” There, he had said it. Well, part of it. Aziraphale blinked, pulling back every so slightly. Crowley grabbed his wrist. 

“I-wha-” he started, dazed by the emotions running through him at that very moment. Had Crowley really just said what he thought he said? Doubt crossed Aziraphale’s mind, and it must have shown on his face, because Crowley slid his hand from Aziraphale’s wrist to his hand, picking up the other one with his other hand as well. 

“Perfect, angel. I-I know that I’m a demon and you’re an angel and that there is no way we could ever-” the rest of his words were cut off by Aziraphale’s mouth covering his. Crowley froze, shocked, thinking Aziraphale would regret what he had done and pull away. But when he didn’t, Crowley relaxed into the kiss, dropping Aziraphale’s hands to gently hold the sides of the angel’s face, caressing his jaw. Aziraphale’s hands found their way to Crowley’s waist and he pulled the demon closer, deepening their kiss. Finally, they broke apart, breathless (though they technically don’t need to breathe).

Then, blue eyes met yellow, a demon told an angel he loved him, and that angel answered with a kiss holding the fire and passion of 6000 years of memories. 

[gisdacreadigol-blog]

Prosiect Cynhyrchu Cerddoriaeth

Yn ystod mis Tachwedd a Rhagfyr 2016 bum yn lwcus i gydweithio gyda’r cerddor a’r cynhyrchydd Aled Hughes ar gyfres o weithdai a oedd yn rhoi’r cyfle i rai o ddefnyddwyr GISDA gael profiad o greu a recordio cerddoriaeth. Roedd bob sesiwn yn wahanol, a cafodd y pobl ifanc gyfle i greu curiadau, arbrofi gyda synths, ysgrifennu geiriau, canu, chwarau gitars a dryms yn ogystal â rhoi eu barn ar gymysgu’r caneuon oedd yn datblygu.

Bydd y tair can cafodd eu cynhyrchu yn cael eu rhyddhau ar wefan Bandcamp yn ystod mis Chwefror ac ar gael i lawrlwytho am gyfraniad a fydd yn mynd yn ôl mewn i’r elusen.

Dyma beth oedd gan Jade, a gymrodd rhan, i’w ddweud am y prosiect...

“Project class..mor cŵl. Oedd cael gweithio efo artist proffesiynol mewn gwirionedd yn brofiad amazing. Dwi wedi mwynhau llawer a ‘sa fo yn cŵl cael gwneud o eto.. efo mwy o amser!! Dwi 100% wedi gwella fy sgiliau cerddorol ac wedi actually cael defnyddio sgiliau doni’m yn gwbod oedd gen i’n barod. Dwi’n ddiolchgar iawn ac mae’r tiwns yn swnio’n sh*t hot!!”

Music Production Project

During November and December 2016 we were lucky to work with the musician and producer Aled Hughes on a series of workshops that gave GISDA’s service users the chance to make and record music. Every session was different and the young people got to create beats, experiment with synths, write lyrics, sing, play guitars and drums as well as voicing their opinion during the mixing process.

The three songs which were produced will be released on Bandcamp in February. They will be available to be downloaded for a contribution and the proceeds will go back into the charity.

This is what Jade, who took part, had to say about the project...

“A class project.. so cool. Working with a professional artist was truly an amazing experience. I enjoyed it a lot and it would be cool to do it again.. but with more time!! I have 100% developed my musical skills and actually used some skills that I didn’t know I had. I’m really grateful and the tunes sound sh*t hot!!”

15.12.16

[rhagfyre]

what’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing

Author: queer-omenss

Words: 591

Rating: G

Summary: Aziraphale had always loved seeing shooting stars. They were so fleeting, yet so beautiful. He turned his head to gaze down at Crowley, watching as the demon’s gaze flitted across the cloudless night sky.

full of snuggles and tea and sleepy crowley at their south downs cottage!

Read it on AO3 here or keep reading

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“Crowley, where are you, dear?” Aziraphale called out as he emerged from his library at their cottage. He checked the bedroom and the greenhouse, before catching sight of the demon’s lanky frame on the balcony. Smiling softly to himself, the angel prepared two steaming mugs of tea in the kitchen, grabbed a fuzzy blanket off the sofa and slid open the sliding door onto the balcony. Crowley was curled onto the porch swing, his legs tucked beneath him, sunglasses discarded somewhere. He turned when he heard the door open, watching as Aziraphale settled himself next to him. Crowley slid closer to Aziraphale, taking the mugs from the angel so he could arrange the blanket around them. 

Crowley pressed into Aziraphale’s side, the serpent in him trying to get closer to the angel’s warmth. Aziraphale lifted his arm and Crowley ducked under it, resting his head on the angel’s shoulder. Aziraphale brought his arm down on the other side, his hand idly stroking Crowley’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, angel.” Crowley mumbled, taking a sip of the tea before snuggling even farther down into the blankets.

They were silent for a while, drinking their tea and watching the stars. Suddenly, a streak of light shot briefly across the night sky before disappearing. Aziraphale gasped.

“Crowley, did you see that?!” he said, eyes wide, a smile on his face. Aziraphale had always loved seeing shooting stars. They were so fleeting, yet so beautiful. He turned his head to gaze down at Crowley, watching as the demon’s gaze flitted across the cloudless night sky. Aziraphale took a moment when Crowley wasn’t looking to take in the demon’s features. The sharp contours of his jawline, the bright golden yellow of his eyes, the slightly ruffled state of his deep red hair. Just watching him in this simple, innately human, moment made Aziraphale fall in love all over again. Crowley felt Aziraphale watching him and shifted his head slightly to get a better look at the angel. 

“What?” he asked, yawning. Aziraphale watched as Crowley stretched, long limbs unfurling before curling back up again. And then he yawned too. They both chuckled softly.

“Nothing, dear, nothing.” Aziraphale replied, squeezing Crowley tight and turning to look back at the stars. He thought about how close they had come to never being able to do this. To have this cottage, to sit here and watch the stars, to be together. But these few months since the armageddon-that-wasn’t had been the best days of Aziraphale’s life. Just being with Crowley, without the fear of retribution from their former head offices. It was everything Aziraphale could have dreamed of and more.

When Aziraphale finished his tea, he looked to find Crowley sound asleep against him, the demon’s mug hanging precariously from his relaxed hands. Aziraphale’s heart melted even more at the sight of the demon, sleeping so peacefully, his features at ease. Carefully, Aziraphale removed the cup from Crowley’s hands, set both mugs on the ground and pulled Crowley closer to him, resting his head atop the demon’s hair, sighing contentedly. Content is not a strong enough word to describe how Aziraphale felt in that exact moment. In fact, he was a little more than pleased (more like moments away from jumping up and down and singing) that after 6000 years, they finally had all the time in the world (literally) to do whatever they wanted. And if this, cuddling underneath a warm blanket, the vast star-filled sky above them, was one of those things, well. He certainly wasn’t going to complain.

[rhagfyre]

he’s so whipped for you

Author: queer-omenss

Words: 866

Rating: Teen???

Summary: A customer explains what the word "whipped" means to Aziraphale, and Crowley is thoroughly embarrassed. Aziraphale, however, realizes how much Crowley has done for him, and decides to ~repay~ him.

Pure fluff, aziraphale being an innocent mess, and some fluffy kissing.

Read it on AO3 here or keep reading

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“Thank you, dear.” Aziraphale said, taking the warm mug from Crowley before taking a sip, turning back to the customer he was trying to ward off. She was insistent on buying his collection of Oscar Wilde books that he had no desire to part with.

Crowley merely nodded, making his way back to the couch to resume his nap, and was almost out of earshot when he heard the woman say, “He’s so whipped for you, isn’t he?” He froze, hidden behind a wall of bookcases.

 Aziraphale furrowed his brow. “He’s what?” he asked, puzzled. 

“Whipped?” she repeated, clearly unsure as to why Aziraphale was so confused. 

“I do not hit him, if that’s what you are insinuating!” he cried, horrified the human would think such a thing. The woman’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” she reassured, and Crowley was suddenly very glad he was hidden from view because he knew his face had suddenly gone bright red from embarrassment. The woman’s expression softened slightly. “You don’t know what that means, do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by the angel’s innocence.

“Evidently not in the way you seem to be using it” Aziraphale replied.

“Oh, well it basically means that when someone is in love with someone and they do everything that person asks of them, things like getting something from another room, making a drink or snack, whatever, they’re ‘whipped’ for that person.” she explained happily. “I hope I didn’t offend you, it was just pretty obvious to me that your husband-” she was cut off abruptly as Crowley reemerged, ushering her out the door before she could continue speaking. 

“What in God’s name was that about?” Aziraphale asked when Crowley slammed the door and turned back to face him, out of breath.

“Oh, uh nothing, just uh keeping her from buying books, haha!” Crowley replied rather unconvincingly. Aziraphale narrowed his brow. 

“Crowley.” he said, pronouncing each syllable slowly, his voice scolding.

The demon sighed and slumped his shoulders, running his hands through his hair. “I just didn’t need you getting any ideas, that’s all.”

Aziraphale raised a brow. “Ideas?”

“Y’know, just… stuff!” 

“No, my dear, I don’t know.” Aziraphale replied, still feigning scorn. He did, in fact, know. When the woman had explained the term to him, it all hit him like a stack of books. The things Crowley had done over the years. The miracle of Hamlet, saving him from the Nazi’s, miracling away the paintball stain from his jacket. Half of the things Aziraphale hadn’t even explicitly asked for. “How about I think about it while you fetch me ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ from my desk?” he said, walking off to the back room and settling himself into his favoured armchair. By the time Crowley returned, novel in hand, the angel had come up with a plan.

Crowley handed the book to Aziraphale, who immediately miracled it back to its place on one of his many bookshelves. 

“Thank you, dear.” he said, tilting his head slightly. 

Crowley flung his hands out in a what-the-fuck gesture. “What was the point of that?!” he said, frustrated. How dare Aziraphale waste his time by- Oh. His train of thought was cut off as realization dawned on him. The angel’s face was smug, eyebrows raised with a small smirk playing on his features. Crowley shook his head, fighting to keep a smile from his mouth. “You bastard. You did that on purpose!”

Aziraphale leaned forward in the chair, eyes gleaming. His damn bright, beautiful, blue eyes. Crowley would willingly saunter vaguely downwards a hundred more times if it meant he got to keep looking at those eyes. At Aziraphale. 

“And so what if I did?” the angel asked, rising from the chair, taking a single step towards Crowley. Then another. And then they were less than a foot apart and before Crowley knew it, Aziraphale was reaching up and taking off the demon’s glasses and then they were kissing and fuck, it was like 6000 years of emotions and memories and feelings were hitting Crowley in the chest all at once and he couldn’t breathe and he didn’t know if it was from the burning in his chest or from the fact that Aziraphale’s lips hadn’t parted from his in what felt like hours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative. And then it was fire. And ice. And filled with such passion and wanting that Crowley couldn’t make sense, didn’t want to make sense of the feelings in his head. He just wanted Aziraphale. Aziraphale. His curly blond hair, in which Crowley’s hands were threaded, his soft, worn waistcoat pressed against Crowley’s stomach, his lips, now hovering mere inches away from Crowley’s. Crowley shook his head. His hands trailed from the angel’s hair to cup the sides of his face. He huffed a sigh, laughing softly.

“Shit, angel, the woman was right, I’m so wh-” the rest of his sentence was cut off as Aziraphale brought his lips to Crowley’s again, the angel’s hands resting on Crowley’s chest. Crowley felt Aziraphale smile against his lips and Crowley couldn’t help but grin back. 

[rhagfyre]

we are infinite as the universe we hold inside

Author: rhagfyre/emandrea

Words: 2.1k

Rating: G

Summary:  "Our once barren world now brims with life That we may fall in love Every time we open up our eyes" -- Crowley has a surprise trip for Aziraphale. While there, both angel and demon deal with their own emotions until a fateful Ferris wheel ride.

Read it on AO3 here!

[rhagfyre]

angels can’t drive. well, one angel in particular.

tAuthor: queer-omenss

Words: 742

Rating: G

Summary: Crowley tries (key word tries) to teach Aziraphale how to drive. Safe to say it doesn’t work out. There are tears. then it gets s o f t.

Read it on AO3 here

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“Okay, angel, d’you remember which pedal is which?” 

The angel nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, looking down to make sure he placed his foot on the right pedal.

Aziraphale and Crowley were in a deserted parking lot, sitting in a shabby old toyota that Crowley had conjured up, Aziraphale behind the wheel. “No way am I letting you drive the Bentley.” Crowley had said after the car popped into existence. “Alright, now just gently press down on the pedal, and drive straight.” the demon advised, turning to sit properly in his seat. 

He wasn’t used to being in the passenger seat, he thought with a frown. The angel gulped and put pressure on the pedal, sending the car speeding forwards, towards the building the parking lot belonged to. “Brake, Aziraphale, brake!” Crowley screamed, preparing himself to miracle them to safety lest the angel fail to stop the car. Somehow, in the rush of panic, Aziraphale managed to hit the brakes mere inches before the curb. Crowley slouched in his seat, chest heaving. “Christ, Aziraphale! I said gentle pressure!” he exclaimed, the word ‘christ’ tasting foul in his mouth. 

He growled exasperatedly, flinging his hands up in the air. That was the third time Aziraphale had almost killed them. In half an hour. First, he accidentally put the car in reverse and almost sent them shooting into traffic. Then, he pressed the gas pedal instead of the brake and, again, almost sent them into traffic. Now this. And Crowley was frustrated. He was staring out the passenger window, away from Aziraphale, and it was only when he heard a faint sniffle from beside him that he turned around to find the angel with his head in his hands, body shaking with the weight of his sobs. All anger immediately slipped from Crowley’s mind, and he reached over, laying a gentle hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. The angel looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, his cheeks wet. 

“Hey, it’s okay, look I’m sorry I got frustrated, it’s not your fault.” he said reassuringly, taking the angel’s hands in his own. 

Aziraphale sniffed, another tear sliding down his face. Crowley reached up and brushed it away with a finger, stroking the back of Aziraphale’s hand with his free hand. 

“Shh, angel, c’mere.” Crowley said softly pulling Aziraphale close to him, wrapping his arms around the angel’s soft frame. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s tears seeping into his jacket, but he didn’t care. He rubbed Aziraphale’s back comfortingly, and, after a while, the tears seemed to stop. Aziraphale slowly pulled away, wiping his face with his hands. 

“S-sorry, Crowley, I guess driving is just not for me.” he said, looking up to notice Crowley had taken his sunglasses off. Aziraphale loved Crowley’s eyes. Golden and bright, he hated that the demon always wore those dark glasses. 

“What? No, you’ll figure it out, angel, I know you will,” Crowley said, handing Aziraphale a tissue that had seemingly just appeared out of thin air. The angel dried his eyes, looking down at his hands. 

“You think so?” Aziraphale asked, looking doubtful. 

Crowley nodded. “Of course, angel.” He gave a soft smile. “I’ll keep teaching you. You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

Aziraphale finally gave a small smile, glancing sidelong at Crowley. When he reached for the steering wheel again, Crowley placed a hand on his arm.

“But maybe we can continue tomorrow. I’ve had enough near-discorporation experiences for today, I think, angel.” he said, brow raising. Aziraphale gave a small chuckle.

“I suppose you’re right, dear.” he replied, turning to look at Crowley. “Maybe you’ll let me drive the bentley soon?” he asked hopefully, wiggling his eyebrows. Crowley huffed a soft laugh and got out of the car, standing to lean against it. Aziraphale followed him out.

“Don’t push it, angel.” he said, smirking, though there was kindness and laughter in his eyes. Aziraphale grinned, beginning the walk back to where the bentley was parked. 

“Sushi?” he asked as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“Sushi.” Crowley replied, speeding off back towards central london, easily hitting 90 miles per hour. Aziraphale clutched the sides of his seat.

“Are you quite sure you’re even qualified to teach me how to drive?” he asked teasingly, warily eyeing the speedometer. Crowley laughed.

“Shut up, angel.” he replied, grinning.

Aziraphale huffed and shook his head, a smile playing on his face while Beethoven’s ‘Killer Queen’ played from the speakers.