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You know what (who) to do… Angel…

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 1 : here

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 2 : here

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The affronted tone with which Aziraphale asks where Furfur got the bullet catch booklet, because it's only available to Working Professional Magicians, is so funny. His worst fears have just been realized, a demon has shown up to arrest his husband, but he can still take a moment to be offended on behalf of his fake profession that important trade secrets have fallen into the wrong hands.

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new Good Omens fanfic...

Quite Contrary

Rating: Explicit

Chapter 1/?

Summary: The plan is ready, everything is in place, and Aziraphale is about to prove that he’s quite capable of running the Second Coming all on his own, thank you very much.

There’s just one problem—and it goes by the name of Mary Magdalene.

(It also, on occasion, goes by the name “Anthony J. Crowley.”)

Read on AO3

****

This is the "Crowley was Mary Magdalene" fic I've been dying to write. I started it as a crackfic to blow off steam after my last WIP nearly killed me, but it's gaining more plot than I thought it would (surprise surprise). I have the majority of it drafted already though, so I expect to be able to post regularly (as long as the last few chapters don't fight me).

Read the tags and enjoy!

(smut will start in chapter 3 by the way)

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Go off together?→!

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✨ The First Collab in the Universe ✨

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David Tennant Wearing An Indiana Jones Sweater On The Jungle Cruise In Disneyland

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Something's on your cheek🍦

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Ducks?

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the way I cry like a little baby when Adam says "I'm just a kid" and Aziraphale says "...but that's not a bad thing to be." god I fucking love that moment. and I think about all the times I needed to hear it and it's just the most perfect thing.

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Besides snake Crowley and Aziraphale, this is entirely not what was planned but it felt nice to just let the art decides what i wanted to be for once? :D

Idk if that makes sense but I'm so used to draw what I'm being told, it's a nice change of pace ^^

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(FIC) A Billion Years is All Its Gonna Take – Good Omens

ao3 ★

“You know that I didn’t come here for you, you know that, Angel?” Crowley quietly admits, and Aziraphale has to suck in a breath, because he knew more than his fair share on why he wasn’t the most important person in the evening for Crowley tonight. But that doesn't mean that the ache in his chest wasn’t there, just because he knew the reason why. It was curious, Aziraphale thinks, that whenever he was around Crowley he would always find himself, one way or another, yearning for something that he knew reasonably well that he wouldn’t be able to give.

OR; Aziraphale starts to get jealous when he sees Crowley with a young lady.

Crowley was an electrifying presence.

Aziraphale hammered that into his head as he watched him from across the room.

It was strange really.

What was he doing at a party like this?

“Totally not suspicious at all,” Aziraphale muttered against the rim of his glass. Looking away when he notices Crowley’s eyes fluttering along the crowd. Almost as if he was looking for something.

Someone .

He coughs. Aziraphale has always hated the way his mind jumps to conclusions.

He turns his attention back to Crowley, hoping that he wasn’t looking his way. He wasn’t. In fact his attention was purely on the pretty lady to his right, with the dress that emphasized her gorgeousness. 

He mumbles at the way Crowley trails his eyes up and down.

Because he was concerned for the lady of course. Not because Crowley was so obviously being flirtatious to the lady attempting to seduce him. Of course not. But..

He has a new haircut.

Aziraphale finally notices how he seemed to have a new one every turn of the century. It was both humorous and intriguing. He never understood why he was so set on fitting into the human fashion standards to the extent that he did.

Always managing to afford the newest pieces of fashion. 

Sometimes having been the one to start the trends himself. 

He still remembers the ridiculously long pants from a few decades ago. He had been so proud of that and Aziraphale had pretended to fancy them. He didn’t, really, but he was so happy that he just had to for his sake.

Even now, Aziraphale still doesn’t understand how that had caught on with the crowd. It seemed like a hazard. Yet it did, against all odds. Crowley was a master at fitting in.

Not saying that Aziraphale wasn’t as well – but Crowley had always taken it a step further than he did. Which was, he realizes, what Crowley did best. Outperform everyone in the room. Outperform him .

How could someone be so imperfectly perfect in the way that Crowley is?

For a moment, Aziraphale looks away, then turns back to Crowley gone. 

The lady as well. 

For a minute Aziraphale’s mind turns to the worst. Thoughts an Angel should never voluntarily think about. 

Then Aziraphale feels hands touch his cheek – fingers, unnaturally cold yet perpetually warm in unison, inhumane in their nature as they graze over his skin to save him from himself – and his mind goes blank.

“You know that I didn’t come here for you, you know that, Angel?” Crowley quietly admits, and Aziraphale has to suck in a breath, because he knew more than his fair share on why he wasn’t the most important person in the evening for Crowley tonight.

But that doesn't mean that the ache in his chest wasn’t there, just because he knew the reason why. It was curious, Aziraphale thinks, that whenever he was around Crowley he would always find himself, one way or another, yearning for something that he knew reasonably well that he wouldn’t be able to give.

Desperation was a thing he would never get when he interacts with Humans, wondering why they do what they do, and why they risk going to hell just for simple things such as money, fame, or love . Aziraphale knew he wasn’t Human, by all means he knew he was far from it, but he had a feeling that he knew why, just a bit.

He took another shuddering breath, before looping his fingers around Crowley’s wrists and forcing them from his face on his own terms, hoping that with him taking the initiative, that he won’t be as heartbroken when it’s all over.

“I know.” He quietly responds, in a whisper that was louder to his ears than the car horns blaring from outside, bleeding through the extravagant music. “Does that mean you have to go?”

For a moment, Aziraphale think that he saw hurt in those eyes as he made him pull away, but that soon meant nothing as Crowley washes it over with confidence and something that he could only label as an attempt to be strong.

Which was foolish, because Crowley was the strongest person he’s ever known. 

“Well, you can’t exactly stop me. Can you now?”

Aziraphale starts to hurt at that.

But he keeps his breath leveled, and lets go of Crowley.

“No. I can’t.”

And for a moment they both become still. Agonizingly still. 

During those few moments, Aziraphale sees Crowley in his bare skin. Vulnerable and shocked. The silence becoming so prominent that he swears that he’s struggling to breathe. He stares at Crowley’s lips as they open in shock, then closes again, locking against each other like steel.

Aziraphale realized how he had just admitted defeat, allowing someone to sweep Crowley away.

But why?

Aziraphale tries to ponder but stops when he feels Crowley’s hands snake into his own.

“You gave up so easily.” The way that Crowley had said it made Aziraphale think that he might have actually cared for him in that light. That he had a chance. Then he locks his eyes with Crowley’s and realizes how that could never be plausible.

His eyes are yellow with black slits and this is the first time in a thousand years that Aziraphale has gazed at them for longer than a passing glance. They were stone cold and tired. He starts to acknowledge that his affections had probably been a burden on Crowley for longer than he realized it had been.

“How long have you known?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“How long have we lived, Angel?” Crowley asks back and Aziraphale, for the third time, begins to hurt. How long have they lived compared to how long he has loved Crowley was immeasurable. It feels like it had just been a hundred years since he had created the universe with Crowley.

“Possibly billions.” Aziraphale finally responds back.

And Crowley grips his hand harder. “Then that’s how long its been since I’ve vowed to love you back.”

He feels like he might hurl.

“Crowley-”

“Angel.” He interrupts. “I didn’t come here for you tonight.” Crowley echoes, and Aziraphale swears he might have started to cry if it hadn’t been for how soft Crowley had said it. Like, for once, Aziraphale wasn’t just someone that loved, but was someone that was loved back. "I didn't come for her either."

“I know.” Aziraphale whispers, “but does that mean you have to go?”

Crowley smiles as he brings his hands to his lips, "Well, you can't exactly stop me, can you?" and Aziraphale can't help but get flustered as he feels and watches him mutter those words against his skin.

"No. I can't."

But, this time, Aziraphale doesn't let go.

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"Dancing is not a sin" part 3

I'm sorry that it took so long to finish this one. Wasn't satisfied with the first version of it. 🙈

Hope you like it

Part 2 here

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Okay so maybe not a hill a willing to die on but definitely one I'm willing to plant my flag on at point is that when Aziraphale says to Crowley, "I forgive you" both times it's about Crowley not having faith in Aziraphale. It's the opposite of "'you said trust me', 'and you did'."

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Lip touch

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Better forget…

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 1 : here

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 2 : here