*slips piece of paper under your door* It reads: Have you listened to Guilty as Sin from Taylor Swift? I feel like it would make an amazing fanvid, it's so Aziraphale coded it blows my mind. No pressure! Just wanted to throw that your way! Love the blog!
hellooooooooo!!!💕 ooooh i have to admit im late to the ttpd party but by title alone it's going on the List and i will listen to it imminently!!! thank you so much, im always grateful for edit recs bc im shite at picking ones to do 💀 also thank you sm that's so kind of you to say!!!💖
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The invisible and unbreakable-
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HC that Crowley can sense lies like Aziraphale can sense love and that’s why he said “yOU DOOO” so confidently after Aziraphale claimed he didn’t even like him bc he could sense that Azi was lying out his ass
ooooh i love this!!!💕 this is a hc that i can absolutely buy in a, like, canon-divergent kinda way??? like i would LOVE to see this in a fic somewhere, that could be so bloody funny
"of course i didnt hide the last few bottles of vintage cotes du rhone crowley whatever are you insinuating" "...........*squints suspiciously*"
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Crowley comes home after a long day working in the garden with nothing but mischief in mind, but Aziraphale has his own ideas how to make Crowley relax properly.
Roots to grow and Wings to fly (E, 2/2, 18 k)
"What can I say, you ruined me."
“Not as much as you ruined my clothes." The pristine voice cracked slightly, greatly diminishing the ferocity behind the angel's huffing.
"Comes with living with a demon."
"I'm beginning to regret it."
"And yet I don't see you thwarting my wiles."
Aziraphale's chest rose and fell, fluttering with deep breaths.
"You're just very lucky to be such an evil temptation, you fiend."
Crowley shifted to sit on Aziraphale's knees, his arms resting on the angel's shoulders, his hands still at the nape of his neck, playing with the fluffy curls.
He tilted his head slightly, and his warm eyes, shining in their fullest gold, scrutinised the fine lines and curves of his angel's face. And what a sight it was, the hair tousled, the cheeks flushed red, the mouth open and stained pink from biting the lips, the eyes wide and flickering with barely suppressed hunger.
For a moment, Crowley considered stopping time just so he could drown in the image.
"You want to go upstairs, angel? Maybe we could take a shower together?" he asked softly.
Aziraphale's eyebrows rose in confusion for a moment until the corner of his mouth curved impishly.
"Aren't your poor legs too weak to support you all the way up?"
"You could carry me."
"I could, but I think the chair is much more comfortable than the shower."
"Yes, but your clothes..."
"The damage is already done, isn't it?"
"Aziraphale -"
"Will you finally come back and let me finish what you started, Crowley?"
Continue at ao3
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