#they are just extremely in love your honor

[straightupsickfics]

secret ingredient

can you believe it's december? i can't.

but i did manage to finish this little good omens soup fic that i'm going to use as day 2: bowls of soup for the 12 days of sickmas prompt list <3

****

For a being that never needs to sleep, Aziraphale is sick enough that he looks like he’s on the verge of falling asleep on his feet, and Crowley cannot say he enjoys seeing his angel this way. Always so full of excited energy and quick, unexpectedly funny quips, Aziraphale can do little more than blink dazedly at him at the moment. 

“Did you hear me, angel?” Crowley asks gently. He’d asked if Aziraphale wanted to go upstairs for some lunch and a nap, but the angel hadn’t replied. Instead, he’d snuffled helplessly into his tartan handkerchief, seemingly on the cusp of a sneeze that kept backing off at the last second. 

Now, Aziraphale brings a hand to his face and rubs at his eyes, thinks for a second, then shakes his head. “Ah, not quite, sorry, dear,” he murmurs. 

He just looks sick and contagious at this point, what with how red his nose has gotten in the last few hours alone, the way the dim light in the bookshop draws attention to the dark shadows beneath his eyes… 

“hh’hDTISshhh’oo!” 

…And the near-constant sneezing. 

Aziraphale hardly looks relieved at finally having sneezed, though. No, he looks like his sinuses are giving him hell, like he knows there are plenty more where that came from. He gives his eyes another rub, this time to wipe away an irritated tear, and Crowley can’t help but move in and envelope him in his arms. The angel settles into the hug almost immediately, sighing with relief as he tucks his head into Crowley’s shoulder, the soft sound of sniffling muffled against the warm fabric of his turtleneck sweater. 

“Sorry, I’mb snf! Quite a sight today, I’m sure,” Aziraphale mumbles. 

“Mm, sight for sore eyes,” Crowley says, tucking a kiss against the top of his ear. “Alright, let’s get you settled then, shall we? A nap might do just the trick. Take it from me angel, there’s nothing that sleeping for a few decades won’t fix.”

“Surely not decades,” Aziraphale says with what can only be called a pout. 

“Well, no, ideally not. Think I’d miss you too much for that,” Crowley confesses, and smiles a little when he feels Aziraphale hug him just that much tighter. 

“And while you sleep, I’ll make us some soup.” 

This is enough to make Aziraphale release him from their embrace and fix him with as withering a look as he can manage, given the circumstances. “Soup? Do you actually know how to cook… well, anything?” He asks, frowning.

Crowley gives an offended little sniff. “Not as such,” he says. “But how hard can it be? Humans do it every day, multiple times a day. And there are plenty of cookbooks for me to reference,” he teases.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows lift in alarm. “Cookbooks?”

“Sure, our cookbooks. In our cooking section,” Crowley explains. 

“Our cookbooks,” Aziraphale repeats under his breath.

Crowley grins at him. “Right, bed. And soup. Don’t worry about a thing, angel, everything will turn out just tickety-boo.” 

The angel is apparently too exhausted to argue any further, because he lets Crowley lead him upstairs to the small, cozy apartment they’ve been sharing these last few months. It’s strange, seeing Aziraphale curling up under the blankets. Normally it’s just Crowley who makes use of the bed for sleeping, with Aziraphale tucked in snugly beside him with a book and a hot cup of tea. 

It’s almost too tempting to slip in beside him now, draw the curtains, and lay down for a nap of his own while Aziraphale sleeps away his cold, but… there’s something drawing him to the idea of making the angel soup. Something quietly romantic and domestic about making something with his own hands that will make his partner feel better. 

So, Crowley makes sure Aziraphale has no less than three blankets, ensures that his feet are properly covered, and presses a kiss to his forehead before he promises to be back soon. 

“Don’t spill anything on my books, please,” Aziraphale frets through a yawn. 

He’ll be asleep in a matter of minutes, Crowley knows, whatever winter virus he has is taking a toll on him enough to knock him out for a good few hours. 

“You can trust me, angel,” Crowley says from the doorway. 

And he can. 

*

In the kitchen, things fall apart pretty immediately. 

Crowley has no idea where Aziraphale keeps anything, or, for that matter, which kind of soup the angel would prefer. And exactly how small is “diced?”

He decides on chicken soup because that’s a classically human “sick day” soup according to everything he’s observed over the years, and it seems simple enough. He’s not sure they have “wild” rice, but surely regular rice will do the trick? 

Of course he could conjure up the soup with much less effort, but that defeats the purpose. So, he chops and boils and hopes for the best, and the kitchen soon smells quite delicious, if he says so himself. 

(He does). 

Crowley ladles the soup into a bowl, conjures up some bread (he’s not that good in the kitchen after this singular attempt), sets everything on one of Aziraphale’s ancient serving trays, and makes his way back to the bedroom. 

“Hh’iiishh! Iishh’oo! Oh, good l-lord…hUH’ieesshhh’oo!” Aziraphale is in the throes of a sneezing fit when he opens the door, though, his body pitching forward as he sneezes helplessly into the pile of blankets, too tired to do much else. 

“Sounds like I’m just in time,” Crowley says by way of greeting. He sets the tray down on the bedside table and leans over to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. He definitely sounds worse than he had before his nap, so it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to have a fever now, too. 

“You always are,” Aziraphale says, still sniffling. “Don’t do that, you’ll get sick too,” he says, a worried edge seeping into his voice. 

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Crowley muses. “Here, look, I didn’t even burn anything down. I’m sure you’ll tell me if it’s shit,” he says, offering the bowl out for Aziraphale to take. 

“I hope I can even taste it,” Aziraphale says sadly. “Thank you, though, for going to the trouble, my dear. You’ll have some, too, yes?” 

“‘Course,” Crowley says, “when have I ever made you eat alone? No, don’t tell me, I’m sure there’s a running list in that brain of yours.” He takes the second bowl and sits next to Aziraphale on the bed. 

Crowley largely ignores his own soup, though, too busy watching Aziraphale take a careful first bite. Something flickers over his face, there and gone too quickly even for Crowley and his 6,000 years of Angel experience to parse, and he can’t help but frown. Maybe it hadn’t gone to plan the way he’d thought. 

When Crowley looks up again, Aziraphale’s face is flushed a delicate shade of pink and his eyes are shining bright with just barely held back tears. 

“What’s happening, angel?” He asks, worried now that something really is wrong. He scoots himself over towards Aziraphale and runs a hand through the familiar, soft blond strands, though this only makes him shake his head and the tears fall in earnest. 

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale sighs, swiping them away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or should I start guessing?” Crowley says, deflecting as his face grows warm from the affection in Aziraphale’s voice. 

His angel gives him a smile so soft and fond that Crowley’s at risk of melting right there on the spot. “I can just...taste...how much love went into this,” Aziraphale finally explains, eyes still shining bright and not breaking eye contact.

“Ngk. I. Well, you know. I do…love you,” Crowley manages to croak, peering over the rims of his sunglasses so Aziraphale can see his eyes, too. 

Aziraphale beams at him. “I’ll be feeling as good as new after this, I think; thank you my love.” 

“S’nothing,” Crowley says, though he knows they both know it isn’t and has never been nothing when it comes to them. Aziraphale lets it go, though, just continues to smile at him as he sniffles through every few bites. 

When they’re done, Aziraphale curls himself up around Crowley, full and warm and ready for another nap, it would seem. 

“I really do appreciate you looking after me, you know,” he confesses as his eyes slip shut. 

Crowley smiles, feels his own face flush as he turns and drops a kiss to Azirphale’s forehead. “I know. Sleep now, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

[densewentz]

ive decided the best thing for Crowley post-s2divorce is to become a goofy girl!Dad to an unhinged gremlin child. In this case this one that I've named Hanna.

[rivalmelty]

they are fukuzawa’s boys, adopted twins, and menaces to the yokohama police

(pls do not tag as beast)

[anotherdescentintomadness]

Turtleneck Gremlin WYB

[joykai]

Maxley BrainRot server

Heyyyy, I have started a discord server for Maxley brainrot. If you guys are interested in joining here's the link: https://discord.gg/9zGNrJVs

[sandwichmustbetasty]

I should be writting my thesis, but I am once again plagued with Dragon Age brainrot.

VARRIC/HAWKE OH MY GOD. The sheer potential for angst, the longing the pining and the ever present question of Bianca. Blue Hawke would be a mess. He would totally stay in the fade - he already lost his family, Carver's doing good with Wardens, his friends have their own life, and Varric? Varric's fine. He always is. He always has Bianca after all.

And Varric's complicated and repressed feelings would just hit him straight in the gut the moment the first shock would fade. He's in love with Hawke, has been for so long.

And now Hawke is dead. And now there is nothing to be done about this stupid stupid feeling he cradled so close to his chest he didn't even realise it was there. Varric would not be doing fine. Oh he would repress everything again and try to be his old self, but he'd rather avoid Cole, thank you very much.

And without Hawke there would be no-one to call him out on his bullshit. Not that they were ever any good about talking about feelings.

But Varric would stay up in his room, staring at the wall, haunted by the memories of Hawke's smiling face, of all the late evening where they would stay up, snuggled close somewhere in Hanged Man, drunk and too tired to move, laughing at some stupid hardly funny jokes. He would realise with a stark clarity that there was nothing of Hawke in his possesion but those sweet, painful memories. There was no memento, no trinket, nothing. You bet he would find his pack (if he left anything in Skyhold or in the camp) and pull out some tattered red shirt and hold on to that for the rest of his life.

welp, now i'm gonna cry.

[sketchy-tour]

scuttles in

Dandy is precious and I feel like they would be friends with Gloom

Scuttles away

I AGREE I THINK THEY SHOULD BE FRIENDS!!!!

Gloom beloved @theknifeclown

[lilliesthings]

12/10

Once again I am asking you to say happy birthday to Spencer Reid and Emily Prentiss. Say it.

[whimsicmimic]

yea everything legato did was a lil fucked up but consider: it was enrichment for him

[gunsatthaphan]

I’m crying so many tears 😩 

[uefb]

Sometimes the only thing that gets me through the day is knowing I can escape into writing Scamander brother repartee. (18k words from the current posted point in Head Under One Wing…)

[gremlinshipper]

I’m being so feral rn about a show that aired in the us in the early aughts so I have no one to talk to about kagome being trapped in the moth demon’s nightmare land and when inuyasha finally breaks through to her she visualizes the memory of him saying you smell good before anything else like kagome is there something on your subconscious mind you’d like to talk about???

please note that I’m also not normal about shippo thinking about inuyasha praising him but for very different reasons. Shippo likes to play like inuyasha pisses him off but he looks up to him!! That’s his big bro and/or father figure!

Also inuyasha saying he doesn’t care but then literally hurting himself to break through to his friends wait I’m sorry “kagome and my friends” bc kagome is in her own category???

[lovesickhoneybee]

“Anthony knew he was being fanciful, but when he gazed upon her face, he could not help thinking of the new dawn, of that exact moment when the sun was creeping over the horizon, painting the sky with its subtle palette of peaches and pinks.” TVWLM

[volivolition]

dude the TOP song you posted (truce) fucking kills me and the way you described the animatic is??? so good???? I'd bawl actually /pos

I need to know if there's any other TOP songs you relate to the furies/any DE character really, or any slower songs even if they aren't by TOP

OH AGREED ABSOLUTELY!! TRUCE MY BELOVED... and THANK YOU!! we are imagining animatics and crying together! /pos :'] <3

ooh!! well, i havent listened to a lot of TOP in a while, so i don't have many recommendations there unfortunately :'] but for other slow, soft songs, let's see... i'll put them under a cut with all my explanations, but ☀️ "See The Day" by The Altogether (Volition song!), 🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos (Shivers song!), 🦋 "Would You Be So Kind" by dodie (general skills song, Suggestion primarily!) are the best contenders!

Pretty sure you've seen it already, but from a different ask, i recommend "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier! (and "Like Real People Do" if you want to cry and yearn with me, though my DE ideas for it are very loose hkjhg) these are slow ones i like hkjhg <3

"Goodbye" by The Altogether is a Harry and Dora song :0

"Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos is one i specifically relate to Volition (my beloved protector/motivator/crownhead blorbo! [picks him up and wiggles him!!!]), but i would make one of those animation memes for it with every skill slotted into a "soldier" "poet" or "king" position.

☀️ "See the Day" is both another The Altogether song and another Volition song! a real "the worst is over. we made it through. we're going to survive this. it might not get easier yet, but we'll come out the other side and we'll be alive" song. it makes me cry hkjgh

🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos is a soft Shivers song, though the lyrics don't start until halfway in. ough my god listening to it makes my heart ache (/pos) <3 La Revacholiere singing to Harry in the wind. "Will you start when I end? Yeah, I'm long in the wind..."

"Northern Star" by Dom Fera, a song Harry would sing for karaoke and dedicate to Kim, and then they'd waltz a little clumsily on the dim, starlit sidewalk on their way home for the evening... <3

🦋 "Would You Be So Kind?" by dodie BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS VERSION, because i love everyone's crowded but earnest vibes. this one is led by Suggestion ("oooh you wanna fall in love with us so bad right? right???") and makes me grin, you GOTTA imagine all of the skills squished together in the front of Harry's brain all trying different tactics to get Kim to fall in love with them, (rhetoric: "I HAVE A QUESTION..." ency: "let's write a story! be in my book!") at 2:35, after all the skills singing together loudly, it's just Harry himself singing to Kim, with all the skills slowly backing him up. the ending is all of them fucking ECSTATIC celebrating when harry finally kisses kim hkjhg jesus this'd be so cute hold on i have to go plan this out i have so many thoughts hkjdh

"Seven" by Sleeping at Last would be a sweet Reaction Speed song (ironic that im adding react speed to a list of soft, slow songs though hkjgh) "I'm ready for whatever comes next!" <3 Reaction Speed is a fast, restless little fella who can't sit still for long, always loves moving, acting, doing. he's like the personification of a verb hkjhg <3 i would also accept an interpretation for echem <3

"Cosmos" by Jawbreaker Reunion is a song that The Furies recently suggested to me as a jean song and it's so right for that, very soft and i like it very much :'] (you should also ask The Furies if you want to, it's much more musically inclined than me, i feel hkjhg <3)

awuahg thank you for asking and for reading!! i appreciate it!! <33

oh and here's links to all of the songs in the tags: Come Together Now, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Nine, RPG Animation Meme (<- homestuck lmao)

[depressed-teacup-inc]

(Click for higher quality)

A buoyant lad❤️

[age-of-moonknight]

“Let’s Dance,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #21.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Artist: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit