#usually i paint my nails glittery pink lmao

[cinnabeat]

i spent like a solid hour? maybe a bit more painting my nails and struggling while also having a text conversation at the same time only to discover the color i painted my nails with just Does Not Go

[angeltrapz]

hey dude 💚 sorry yr having a shit night too— chainshipping ask tho! I’m always down to head more thoughts abt just. things they do to make th other person smile. but also favorite things to do together? not necessarily Big Activities but the lil domestic stuff (like cooking, maybe chores they do together, etc) that’s just better bc they’re Both doing it

Yeah it was a. rough one kdjks... ty <33

I'm always game to talk abt things they do to make the other smile!! One I think about all the time is the simple act of getting things for each other? Maybe sometimes before they even realize they want said thing, or that they need said thing. As you've mentioned b4 I do think Adam has one of those lavender-scented stuffed animals that you can put in the microwave (I have!! the celebration bear one, who naturally is named Lawrence bc he's blue... and uh... I associate teddy bears. w him) and sometimes, when Adam is doing poorly and has gone nonverbal, Lawrence will just be like "Oh! I know what might help!” so he’ll grab the husky from the bedroom (got Rlly attached to that idea when you mentioned it <33) and pop it in the microwave for a minute, rounding back to the couch to hand Adam one of his shirts to snuggle in and a kiss on the forehead. When he gets Adam’s husky from the microwave and hands it to him, Adam just kinda has a moment like oh... I didn’t even have to ask... and he smiles, for the first time that day, and honestly? It rlly does help, to have someone who knows what might comfort you/knows what types of things do, and who just. Does those things when you need them, sometimes without prompt. It’s an intimate kind of knowledge, and it makes Adam feel all warm on the inside.

Another good example of this is Adam making sure Lawrence has his cane while he's walking around the apartment, esp those first few months when he's just getting used to using it - because he's still learning + trying to get used to walking with his (properly fitted) prosthetic, he often left the cane in random places because Adam would often offer his arm if Lawrence needed it (which, again, took some time for him to be okay with, but Adam always tells him it's okay to need help sometimes), and it would frustrate him because he'd be sitting on the couch like "I. I don't know where I put it." but Adam will be like "It's okay, I know where it is!" and it's as simple as that! Lawrence can't help but smile when Adam hands it to him because Adam just. He gets how hard it is. It's so simple to Adam but to Lawrence it means a whole lot. <3

Something else is that Lawrence will remind him to eat. I've touched on this a little bit b4, but Adam has issues with food that extend past textures and tastes and such - his eating is very disordered, and has been since childhood. He doesn't eat three meals a day, sometimes he hardly eats anything at all (usually the bare minimum that will allow him to take his medications without getting sick), he tends to gravitate towards snacks/easy foods that aren't necessarily super healthy, and combined with him already being underweight + having spent the last seven or eight years since leaving his parents' place at 18 getting by on very little, it causes him frequent dizzy spells/fainting episodes. It also takes him a while to realize that hey, I don't have to spread my meals out anymore, I don't have to worry about getting food, and I don't have to feel guilty about eating when I'm hungry. I think Lawrence is a very observant person by nature, and while he might not understand it fully right away, I think he'd definitely realize that some of these issues are tied to the state of the apartment he'd seen only once + Adam's life from before.

So he doesn't force him to eat, obviously, because that doesn't work and helps no one, but he will definitely be like "Hey, I know you're not feeling great today, but why don't I grab you a granola bar or something? We have those oranges you like too. I just want to make sure you don't give yourself a headache or get sick." and admittedly Adam is. Not used to that kind of regard whatsoever. But it feels so much easier to at least eat something small when he knows Lawrence sees him, understands that it's hard and isn't forcing anything out of him. I do think that once they settle into a routine after moving in together, some of that becomes a little bit easier because hey, he's not living paycheck to paycheck, he doesn't have to survive off of ramen and monster energy, he's allowed to eat and not worry about what happens after. The stress of worrying about groceries is definitely nonexistent with Lawrence, and that takes so much weight off of Adam's shoulders; not to embtion the fact that Lawrence is also conscious about his same foods, and makes sure they've always got some in the kitchen. It's not easy, but having someone care about him so much, someone who wants to make sure he's eating right and caring about him like that always makes Adam smile a little bit.

For Lawrence, I think a big thing is just like... seeing Adam hanging out with Diana? There's nothing that will put a smile on his face faster than coming home from work to find the two of them in the living room, a Disney movie (or The Princess Bride!) playing in the background while Diana paints Adam's nails bright glittery blue and pink, because she wanted to practice patterns and she really likes the glitter. Her nails are already painted black with a glitter coat on top - "Adam's nails always look so pretty like that, and he said maybe I couldn't do full black, so he put glitter on them too!" - and he's sitting there, hand spread out on the coffee table while they both sit on the floor, talking about anything and everything that pops into Diana's head, and Lawrence just kind of stands there and watches for a little while. His two favourite people, relaxing together, enjoying each other's company. Adam turns around and Lawrence has always got this huge grin on his face, just like, "Oh, don't mind me. What was it you were talking about, Diana?" which of course prompts her to jump up to give him a huge hug, but after that she's right back to painting Adam's nails, and Lawrence is more than content to just sit in and listen. (He also absolutely adores finding Adam reading to her before bed, because he does voices and everything. He gets a little bit embarrassed about it at first, but once he sees Lawrence watching them with the most loving look he thinks he's ever seen, he just blushes, smiles back, and continues. Sometimes Lawrence joins in, but not always, because then it becomes a competition of voices and they'll never get Diana to bed if she's laughing too hard!!)

Another is that Adam is really good at pulling him out of his own head. He can usually tell when Lawrence is thinking way too hard about something, or when he's beating himself up for some perceived slight he feels he's somehow performed, or when something is bothering him and he's debating whether or not to bring it up for fear of bothering Adam. Often times he'll just sit beside him wherever he is, or lead him somewhere to sit down if they're standing, and he'll just guide Lawrence's head to rest on his chest and he'll just talk softly, making sure Lawrence isn't sitting in silence, knowing that Lawrence doesn't typically feel up to talking himself right away. He'll run his fingers through his hair and tell him about his day, or something he saw while scrolling through his phone/on TV, sometimes he'll read to him, basically just letting him know that hey, I'm right here, I know you're not doing great right now, and that's okay. I'm here for you. Lawrence cries sometimes when Adam does this, the relief of being held + feeling safe enough to express his emotions making it easier, but he smiles by the end of it because he knows how much Adam loves him + wants to make sure he's okay, and he knows that Adam isn't going to judge him. It's the safety of it all. <3

Favourite things to do together!!! Like you mentioned I like to think they do chores together! It’s just more fun that way. Again as you’ve mentioned b4, I think Adam has some difficulty with the dishes despite liking the repetitiveness of the task, both because of textures and because of his shaky hands - so what they do is Lawrence will wash the plates themselves and then hand them off to Adam, who will dry them and put them away/the strainer! They both find it helps a lot to just be around each other like this, listening to the radio above the stove and bumping hips, tapping their feet, sometimes humming along if they know the song well enough. It’s just a nice little routine. (Sometimes they dance in the kitchen after, and sometimes to the goofiest pop songs Adam has ever heard, but if you heard that, no you didn't.)

They like folding laundry together, too! That one is just because it's fun. Lawrence will toss him one or two of his shirts while they're warm because he knows Adam likes the feeling + stealing Lawrence's clothes, and every now and then Adam will throw a washcloth at him just 'cause he thinks it's funny (it is, especially bc Lawrence's gut response is to throw it back?? so they look like two dorks bc they're just throwing it back and forth???), and it's just a nice way to share space. Sometimes they get a bit too caught up in whatever is on TV (its on bc they both need background noise) and end up just sitting against the couch, two baskets of laundry on either side of them, and then eventually Adam will be like "Okay babe I think we should probably finish folding clothes now," and Lawrence will just groan like "I forgot that's what we were doing. Damn it." and they take a moment to laugh before they finish up. (Adam Loves hearing Lawrence swear bc he doesn't do it often, so even smth as simple as "damn it" cracks him up for a good minute lmao!!)

I do think they also enjoy cooking together!! Adam will hand him ingredients/assist in cutting vegetables/what have you; I think, for the most part, that Lawrence does the majority of the cooking, but Adam does help where he can! Sometimes he'll just hop up onto the counter and hand Lawrence things as he needs them, and Lawrence thanks him with either a squeeze to his hand or a kiss on the cheek, and Adam will joke about how he's basically just sitting there looking pretty, but he learns very quickly that Lawrence will just be like "Well, you DO look very pretty, so I think that's fine," and it ends with Adam red in the face but smiling into his hands anyway. The payoff is always a nice meal that they can sit down to together, and it's just such a peaceful, enjoyable thing for them to do together!!

Other than those three they'll take turns doing chores for each other - sweeping, dusting, tidying up the bathroom, things like that just to help each other out <3

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

killer queen

(in which the author is self-indulgent, aziraphale presents as female, and crowley is torn between holding on and letting go)

note: i definitely wrote this while blasting killer queen, but that was probably obvious

this fic was loosely based off this request by @olivianeesan! i really went wild with it but it was fun so hopefully all's well that ends well

i'd like to apologize in advance because my 1920s nerd had a field day writing this lmao

~*~

Go to America, they said. It's the perfect place to plant the seeds of evil, they said.

Well, they'd been right. But that didn't mean Crowley had to like it.

Of course, his dislike wasn't inherent to America, at least not necessarily. Though he'd never admit it, he'd been in a seemingly perpetual bad mood following his falling out with Aziraphale in 1862.

They hadn't spoken since. And 60 years had already passed.

What was worse was that they didn't usually leave off on such a bad note. And even if they did, they would reconcile within a week or two. But this time, they hadn't.

Maybe that was what irked Crowley so much. The lack of reconciliation. Not to mention he wasn't particularly interested in digging through his emotions to figure out what else might be sparking his frustration.

(It was possible, even, that a part of him was afraid to find out.)

That being said, Crowley ended up being pretty successful in America. He was successful everywhere, of course, but Jazz Age America truly was the perfect feeding ground for evil. Americans were always looking for a little sin. Speakeasies, bootlegging, the stock market - corruption flowed through the veins of this country.

Currently, it was the middle of the night, but the speakeasy Crowley resided in was thriving. Men were drinking, flappers were dancing, music echoed around the room - in about a hundred years, he was sure this scene would be quite picturesque.

"Hey," a drunken man slurred, sliding into the seat across from Crowley. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Crowley muttered, taking a sip of his wine and moving his chair slightly away from the stranger.

"That Killer Queen is coming here tonight."

Crowley paused, processing the news. Interesting. Then he shrugged, not bothering to answer directly. The man appeared to take the hint and left, which was surprising, seeing as he'd smelled like he'd bathed in whiskey.

However, despite the lack of care that he presented, Crowley had to admit his interest was piqued by the man's question. The so-called Killer Queen was an infamous flapper that women hired to "test" their husbands' loyalty. She presumably seduced them to see if they were willing to cheat. It was only a thing among the elite, really.

(No one knew what Killer Queen's day job was, either, but a few rumors were floating around that she worked as a psychiatrist who focused on the trauma of abused women.)

Killer Queen was loved by half of the male population and hated by the rest. Despite this, no one could deny their attraction to her, including or perhaps especially other women.

If she did show up, Crowley had to admit that he'd be interested in meeting her.

"Oh my God!" a flapper with short black hair shrieked as she rush into the speakeasy, her feather boa slipping off her shoulders. "She's coming! She's really coming!"

Huh. Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

Crowley took another sip of his wine, then nearly choked on it as the Killer Queen entered the room.

He'd recognize those blue eyes anywhere.

"Angel?!" he sputtered. He cursed, almost biting his tongue as he realized it might have been better to keep his mouth shut.

Aziraphale glanced across the speakeasy, her eyes widening as she saw Crowley. Crowley tried to look away and pretend he hadn't seen her, but it was too late. As Aziraphale passed by his table, she sent him a look that said:

Meet me in a private room in ten minutes.

In reality, it wasn't her look that spoke, but rather her words were spoken telepathically into Crowley's mind. Sometimes being a supernatural being was convenient, even if telepathy did feel rather invasive. Tended to leave a person with an itch on the back of the neck.

Crowley found himself unable to take his eyes off Aziraphale as she walked away. The angel rarely presented as female, but he found her to be as beautiful as ever. The glittery silver flapper dress she wore hugged her curves in a way reminiscent of Bessie Smith.

Wait.

He was supposed to be angry at the angel. Not ogling her.

(Fortunately, Crowley had always been very good at multitasking.)

~*~

Crowley pulled the door shut after entering the private room, tossing his hat down on the table. "Fancy running into you here, angel. And as a flapper, of all the fashion trends to choose from."

Aziraphale's face turned a pretty shade of pink, and she fidgeted with the strings of pearls hanging around her neck. "I needed to, well, it was necessary to assimilate myself as a bit of a party girl, my dear."

"So I've heard, Killer Queen." Crowley sat down across from the angel, not particularly regretting the acidity of his tone. "You know, you could just admit that you came to fraternize with the American elite. Wouldn't hurt my feelings."

Aziraphale stared at him, her face revealing no emotion whatsoever. Then she sighed, tucking an escaped strand of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. (The angled cut looked good on her, much to Crowley's irritation and attraction.) "I take it you're still... angry about 1862."

Angry? No, he wasn't angry. Betrayed, perhaps. Frustrated. Tired of the 60 years of resentment that still boiled inside of him. But not angry.

(How could he ever be angry at her?)

Crowley didn't bother to grace the angel with an answer to her question.

Aziraphale bit her lip, which Crowley noticed was an action cuter than it had any right to be. "Will you at least tell me why you're here? In America?"

Crowley shrugged. "Corrupting souls. Committing evil deeds. The like."

"Such as...?"

The silver ribbon that was tied around Aziraphale's forehead and threaded through her blonde hair was distracting, though not as distracting as the lower-than-usual cut of her silver dress.

Damn, he was whipped.

"Urging Prohibition along, for one. Inciting a bit of gang violence. I've already gotten two commendations for encouraging bootlegging and for my help in facilitating the development of increased organized crime."

Aziraphale chuckled, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin on her hands. "I should have known your lot was behind Prohibition. The intention of the movement seemed too good to be true."

"Without Prohibition, there'd be no speakeasies, no bootlegging, no Al Capone. As humans say, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. And while that's not literally accurate, it is what happened here." Crowley noticed that the angel's nails were perfectly manicured. The relaxed manner in which she sat was ridiculously poised. "Anyways. Care to tell me what you're doing in America, Miss Killer Queen? Besides the whole 'seducing humans to test their loyalty to their partners' affair."

Huh. That came out more bitter than he intended.

Aziraphale frowned. "Who told you that?" She rolled her eyes. "Trust me, my dear. I have not 'seduced' anyone. Besides, I only agree to help the women whose husbands I know are unfaithful."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "And how are you able to tell, exactly?"

Aziraphale pursed her lips (which were painted a rich crimson, and Crowley couldn't stop staring at them), then sighed. "My dear... Trust me when I tell you that there is nothing more painful than being in a room with two people, one of whom is in love with every fibre of their being, while the other feels nothing. Worst is when they never have, and they never will."

For a moment, Crowley did not respond, simply staring at the angel.

He wanted nothing more than to hold Aziraphale close to him and kiss her senseless, to kiss her with the passion of someone who'd been in love for almost 6000 years.

But he couldn't. He'd never be able to.

An angel could never love a demon. Not like that.

And thus, therein lay the problem. He did understand. Or at the very least, he was deathly afraid that he did.

Crowley laughed. It was harsh. Bitter. "No, angel. I understand plenty." He stood abruptly, unable to be in her company any longer. "I've got to be going." If he stayed even another minute, he might say something he'd regret. "I know you have holy business to attend to. All that jazz."

Aziraphale stood, too, her brow furrowed in confusion. "But you've only just got here!" Her face reddened, and she broke eye contact with the demon. "Not to mention that it's been... It's been a while since we last saw each other, and - and had a chance to... Talk."

"I have to go," Crowley repeated. He grabbed his hat off the table. "I'm sorry, angel."

"No," Aziraphale murmured. "I'm the one who's sorry." She glanced at Crowley, her expression determined and her blue eyes steely. "But as I said 60 years ago, I refuse to be a part of your self-destruction."

Her stubbornness was as endearing as it was frustrating. "I know," Crowley said simply. He placed his hat on his head before moving around the table to get to Aziraphale, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, just above the silver ring on her middle finger. "I forgot to mention that you look beautiful," he said as he let go of her hand. "Maybe hold onto that dress for a rainy day. It suits you."

Aziraphale's face turned a deep shade of pink. "O-Oh," she stammered. "Thank you, my dear. That's - That's very kind of you to say."

Crowley turned around to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait." Aziraphale's voice was hushed. Her grip on his shoulder tightened, though not enough to cause any pain. "Will - Will I see you again? Soon?"

Crowley gently shrugged her hand off of him. He didn't turn to face her. "Goodbye, angel."

He was already halfway out the door before she responded.

"My dear boy... Be careful."

And then he was gone.

~*~