#and this time around it's aziraphale who walks away first

[astrhae]

We could have been us.

#they were INSANE for this #it's the way that crowley drove away first in season 1 #and this time around it's aziraphale who walks away first #i'm so #i'm NOT OKAY #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #goodomensedit #my edits

[violet-witch-6]

Gonna be real, my first time watching THAT scene I honestly wasn’t sure how they were ever gonna patch things up because I can’t even imagine the pain of standing in Crowley’s place after 6,000 years of loving someone in silence, trying to show them who you are at every opportunity, painstakingly chipping away at the delusion they’ve bought into since the beginning (more than you ever did) in order to show them the truth—to show them who you are (who the two of you could be together) —and then just as you’ve finally worked up the courage to lay it all out there and toss the dice hoping (with what, for the first time, you’re starting to believe are less than doomed odds) that they’ll love you back and that it will be enough—only for all of it to be dragged out from under you because they look you in the eye and all but tell you that they never understood you at all. They weren’t listening. And, sure they want what you want (to be together), they love you back (still unspoken but legible in the way they glow at the thought that they might still save you) (as if you need saving) (as if you’d want it)—but not as you are. They think the change they ask of you would be received as a grace and the betrayal of that is gut wrenching in a way that no flat out rejection could be, I think. If I were Crowley, I can’t imagine how I’d come back from that.

But then I watched the scene again. The moments after that betrayal. Once Crowley’s put his glasses back on, raised his defenses and sounded the retreat. I wondered, watching the scene again, how it could ever reach the point where the kiss made sense when they were already so torn apart. But the thing is that no matter how wrong Aziraphale was to want things to go back to the “way they were”, everything that led him to that conclusion comes from the thing Crowley loves most about him: his goodness. Aziraphale is good in a way that heaven is not, and Crowley knows that, but Aziraphale still hasn’t learned that lesson. He wants so desperately still to believe in god and heaven and the ineffable plan and even though it’s that desire that’s led him to hurt Crowley, I don’t think Crowley can completely begrudge him. By the time Crowley’s walking out of the book shop, the betrayal has already faded—not gone, but less than when compared to his sadness for Aziraphale and what his angel is going to go through when heaven lets him down (again)—assuming that it doesn’t just break him.

And the kiss—that fucking kiss (be still my beating heart)—that was Crowley planting a seed. “I know better than you do” he says and he does because Crowley has always been more honest with himself than Mr. “Master class in self delusion” A. Z. Fell. Aziraphale is about to be more alone and more lost than he has been in 6,000 years, so Crowley needed to make 100% clear to him where solid ground was. Aziraphale won’t be able to rationalize this away or hide behind propriety because it can only mean one thing and that is that he is in love with a demon whose on his own side with no interest in ever rejoining the heavenly host because heaven is not the epitome of goodness or love that he so desperately wants to believe it is. It’s not even capable of being that—no matter how hard Aziraphale tries to bend it back into what he thinks is it’s natural shape (because isn’t that what he wants so desperately to do as chief archangel? To make heaven the place he’s always thought it was?). Crowley really said “whatever you do next, do it knowing I love you”. He said “I’m done letting you ignore this.” And I get it. Cards on the table means cards on the table. No more half measures no more dancing around it—any of it. If Aziraphale wants to walk into the belly of the beast, then the least Crowley can do is make sure he’s doing it with his eyes wide open.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #crowly x aziraphale #it’s about the pain and the love mingling so closely together that you can’t separate them anymore #the one is the other #and you’d take them both if it only meant you could have him

[averywiseanimatedcat]

6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.

The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.

Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.

Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.

As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.

But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like

The wall push (which was aggressive)

The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal

The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)

Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up

Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, Neil said they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?

And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’

Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. He reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. And I think he has been holding back (we can see that on his face) but there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm

When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out

And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. But Crowley just gets out of the way like he does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.

And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.

So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowly x aziraphale #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens analysis #good omens meta

[actual-changeling]

this one is thanks to a post by @thegroovyfool because she is very much correct - we do not talk about aziraphale's "i need you" enough.

so once again, with a deep breath and a sigh, welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, where i tear apart the confession scene frame by frame. i'm gonna say, watching this particular clip over and over and focusing on aziraphale's face almost took me out.

let's get into it.

first, how about a little look at our starting point. (any blurry screencaps are due to a LOT of movement on michael's part rip)

crowley is very pointedly facing away from him, he turned after aziraphale said "we can be together - angels!", presumably because being offered exactly what he wants in the one way he cannot have it fried his brain, cause besties it surely fried mine.

aziraphale on the other hand looks openly desperate, which is why he says "i need you." more on that later. let's have a look at how he says it, because michael "microexpressions" sheen is putting in the work.

to me, he seems close to tears, his eyes are glistening in that specific "i'm about to cry my eyes out" way i know from looking in the mirror while crying

he is trying to get crowley to listen to him and to turn around. he wants crowley to face him, which is something most people tend to want during an argument. talking to someone who is not looking at you tends to make someone frustrated and like they're not hearing you/do not care about what you have to say.

aziraphale looks close to despair, his i need you is a plea to crowley to come with him. he is opening himself up not just emotionally but physically, too.

he slightly leans forward, his arms are raised and seem to both slightly grasp for crowley and point towards his chest/heart for emphasis. the pure pain visible on his face knocks the air out of me every single time i look at it.

aziraphale is admitting to needing him, something he has never done before, hell, he has told him the exact opposite on numerous occasions. i don't need you. and while they both knew it was a) a lie and b) a way for him to deal with his conflicting emotional standpoints and cognitive dissonance, it still hurt crowley every. single time.

crowley was there for him no matter what, he knows aziraphale needs him but he came back and remained at his side even when he was pushed away and more or less openly insulted. he endured it all.

aziraphale saying i need you now is pretty much a slap in the face but also what crowley needs to hear. as with everything that happens during the entire conversation, the timing is fucked up and they're talking past each other.

in my opinion, that is why crowley does not react.

only when aziraphale turns spiteful and starts questioning his understanding (aka calling him stupid without outright saying it) does he re-enter the conversation.

aziraphale, however, is upset. now, i will put on my tinhat for just a second and turn up the insanity because there are two more things i want to talk about.

first, the little stutter at the beginning.

"i ngk - i need you."

my question is - why? why does he stumble over these words in particular when it does not happen with any other sentence? the only other time is right after crowley walks away with his "good luck", he stumbles over crowley's name.

so, in short, it happens when he is either caught off-guard or saying something incredible emotional.

and this, everyone, is where i go unhinged in my interpretation.

what if he initially did not want to say "i need you?" what if he was so caught up in getting crowley to stay/come with him that he did not think and almost confessed another three word sentence?

what if he was about to say "i love you" but stopped himself because no, that's too direct, they don't do that, they can't do that. it goes against EVERYTHING they have silently build over the last six thousand years. so he chokes on it. he chokes on it and instead he says "i need you" because it means the same thing.

i need you. don't leave me. come with me. be an us. go off together.

i forgive you. i love you.

they say it over and over again because that's the only way they can say it.

that is why aziraphale is so angry and upset after saying it. he told crowley he loves him, he needs him, and all he got in return was silence.

the funny part is that this code may have worked before, but it no longer does. crowley is too hurt to listen to what aziraphale is trying to tell him, and aziraphale is equally as hurt and also not listening anymore.

the funny part is that it stopped being about love and started being about sides again. my side, your side, our side. choose a side, choose our side, choose me.

the funny part is that beelzebub and gabriel told them what they need to do, i found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #good omens meta #ineffable divorce #this was spontaneous i saw the post and my brain went i need to do this right now #so i did #anyway if u disagree with my conclusions thats fine i disagree with my own theories often enough #otherwise fandom wouldnt be any fun

[bi-bard]

When a Demon Stumbles onto the Doorstep of a Bookshop - Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]

Title: When a Demon Stumbles onto the Doorstep of a Bookshop

Pairing: Crowley X Reader

Word Count: 1,944 words

Warning(s): **SEASON 2 SPOILERS** mention of abandonment, drunk character

Summary: [Post-Season 2] After Aziraphale's departure, (Y/n) joins Muriel in the goal of taking care of the bookshop and the tasks that may come with that. One of those many tasks includes being prepared for the moment that a familiar demon finds his way to the doorstep at odd hours of the night.

Author's Note: Listen. I said that I was going to focus on my writing challenges. I know. But someone made this headcanon on Tiktok and I couldn't shake it. If anyone has the user, please let me know because I cannot find it, but I might also just be stupid.

-------------------

When I first found Muriel in charge of Aziraphale's bookshop, I knew that I needed to step in and help where I could.

Well, that's not quite right.

I actually started off very scared.

After what had happened the night before that with the legion of demons coming to attack and Crowley ushering everyone away from the building, I knew that I needed answers. The only way to get those answers was to get back to the bookshop when the coast seemed to be clear.

If I had slammed the doors open any harder, then they would have surely popped off the hinges.

What I saw was Muriel standing in the middle of the room with a stack of books in their hands. They jumped at the sudden noise, quickly scrambling to keep from dropping the books.

"Oh, you scared me," they said before placing the books on the table. "Hello!"

"Who are you," I asked, ignoring any introduction.

"I am a human police officer," they motioned down at their all-white uniform. Angel. Got it. "And bookshop owner... now."

"Where's Aziraphale?"

"Oh, just... off."

That was the very moment that my fear turned to annoyance and anger. "Off?"

"Yeah... y'know, off."

"Where?"

"Oh, well..."

I stepped forward. "Listen. Aziraphale has been one of the dearest in my life for years now. I know about the angel thing. I know about demons that were here last night. Hell, I know about the failed apocalypse. So, when I hear that he's 'off' and has left his beloved bookshop in the charge of some random angel that I've never seen, I get very upset and very worried. I suggest that you tell me what happened to him."

"I can't-"

"And I suggest that you do it quick because he is not the only celestial being that I have on speed dial."

That seemed to be the only push that Muriel needed to tell me everything that had happened while I was gone. Gabriel's memories coming back, Gabriel and Beelzebub running off together, the offer that Aziraphale had taken, and the one that Crowley had apparently turned down. All of it. Well, as much as Muriel knew at the time.

I stood there for a few moments. Stunned into silence.

"Are you-"

"He didn't even say goodbye," I muttered.

"Well, the Metatron seemed very insistent that he needed to go right away- where are you going?"

I had already turned around and walked out of the bookshop again. I looked down the street before going to grab my phone. I frantically clicked Crowley's contact.

It rang a few times before going to voicemail.

"Crowley," I murmured. "Please, answer. Please. I... I found out about Aziraphale and I... I don't know what to do or where to go. Please."

I hung up and walked a little further down the road, wiping my eyes as tears started falling.

The moment that I went to call him a second time, I heard a car engine racing closer to me. I looked down the road to see the all too familiar Bentley pulling up to the curb next to me.

I put my phone away as he got out of the car.

"Crowley-"

I was cut off by him pulling me into a hug. I hid my face in his shoulder for a moment.

"He didn't even say goodbye," I repeated pathetically.

"Trust me, it would've been worse if he had."

It was then that I knew that we were losing the same person, yet grieving two very different things.

After that day, I made myself a new home in the room that had previously been used by "Jim". I had thrown a bit of a fit about the bookshop being entrusted to some random angel instead of a friend. Muriel was kind enough to let me stay. I think that they needed the help, but I was willing to call it merely an act of kindness if it made them feel better.

I didn't know how beneficial my presence would be in the shop.

I knew that I could help organize and clean. I could protect Aziraphale's precious books and keep Maggie's record shop safe. I could try to teach Muriel how to appear more human. I knew that stuff.

I never expected to become accustomed to Crowley turning up at odd hours of the night, often- if not always- drunk.

He would knock on the door or just barge in, yelling for Aziraphale. He wouldn't stop until I had gone down there and broke the news to him that Aziraphale may not come back. That he might be staying in Heaven forever and we may never be able to see him again.

It hurt. And I imagine that it always will. Having to put him to rest on the couch or watch him stumble back outside.

He always wore his glasses, but the heartbreak was so clear that it passed the lenses too easily.

It was one of those nights that he told me the truth of what happened before Aziraphale left. What happened between them.

I had been startled awake by the loud sound of the door slamming open and shut.

I walked out of my room immediately. Muriel stepped out, but I held a hand out. I had been taking care of this since it all started. I wasn't going to stop now.

I walked downstairs, hearing Crowley calling for his angel as I made it downstairs.

"Angel!" he was spinning in circles as he yelled. "I know that you can hear me! Come here and talk to me!"

"Crowley," I said gently as I approached him. "Stop it."

"Angel!"

"Stop it!"

He didn't listen to me, instead still walking around and spinning as he yelled for Aziraphale to just talk to him.

He didn't stop until I grabbed his wrists and forced him to look at me.

"Stop, Crowley," I tried to keep my voice firm. "This is not going to get Aziraphale to come back! I don't even think that he can hear you! Stop it!"

The demon fell quiet as he stared at me. There was a long pause between us. I immediately began to question what I had said. I was constantly terrified of being too harsh. I didn't want to be some additional reason for Crowley to be hopeless over the whole event.

I grabbed the wine bottle that was sitting in his hand before placing it on the table nearby. "Come on... you're staying here tonight."

He didn't follow me when I tried to drag him over to the small couch.

"Crowley..."

"I don't... I don't want to sleep on that couch."

I frowned at him. "I'm not letting you sleep in your car right now, Crowley."

We both stopped. I had learned a lot about stubbornness over the course of my friendship with Crowley. And he knew that. And I'm certain that some part of him despised teaching me that skill.

"Come on," I said, dragging him toward the staircase. He followed me begrudgingly.

I pulled him to my room and motioned to the small bed in there.

"Go on," I pushed when he didn't move at first.

I heard him grumbling under his breath as he walked over. He somewhat flopped on the mattress, and I shook my head as I went to pull the blanket over him.

"Better?"

"Yeah, sure," he grumbled.

"Want to take off your glasses-"

"Leave them."

He hadn't taken off his glasses in front of me since Aziraphale left. Not that he often did anyway.

I took a deep breath and went to walk away.

"Would you...," he trailed off.

"What," I asked.

"Nothing. Never mind."

There's that stubbornness and closed-off attitude. "What is it, Crowley?"

"Would you stay?" he finally muttered.

"Just stay in here? Sure-"

"I meant lay with me. Please."

I glanced at the minimal empty space next to him for a moment. "Are you sure that you'd be comfortable with that?"

"I'm a demon. I have spent my nights in far more uncomfortable places than a small bed."

One day, I would need to question him on those 'I'm a demon' excuses.

I awkwardly shifted my way under the covers, fixing them over him as I did so. After a few more awkward moments, I reached out and wrapped my arms around his torso quietly. I expected some grumbling or some kind of fight. Nothing happened. Instead, Crowley merely sighed and seemed to relax into the pillow more.

I spent some time thinking. Mainly about whether or not demons actually had any need for sleep or for blankets to keep warm. I had thought about it before.

There was plenty that I knew.

I knew that food was more of a luxury than it was a necessity. I knew that they had a lot more control over things around me than I thought before. I knew that they could travel to and from Hell with a particular elevator or particular stairways.

I also knew that Crowley had the ability to sober himself up in an instant.

He had shown me that trick ages ago because I was curious.

So, when he began showing up at the bookshop while completely drunk, I questioned why he wouldn't sober himself up when on the couch or in his car or on any occasion like this.

It didn't take me very long to figure out why that was the case.

It was grief.

Not just normal grief, but grief for someone who was still very much living and breathing.

There was something so much worse about grieving someone who wasn't even dead yet.

When they aren't dead, there's always some remaining shred of hope that they will choose to come back. Which should be comforting, in theory. But when they don't come back... it only feels like a constant reminder that you truly may not be enough for them to fight for or want to fight for.

I could only guess that those thoughts were going through Crowley's mind because they were going through my mind.

"I kissed him."

My ears pricked up at his sudden words. "What?"

"I kissed him," Crowley repeated.

I knew that Crowley and Aziraphale loved each other. It was painfully obvious. I always thought that one of them finally saying something about it would have a dramatically different ending. I imagined them both hiding away in the bookshop. Not much changing... just what was normal for Aziraphale and Crowley but with a little more hand-holding. Not this.

I took a deep breath. "When?"

"After I rejected his offer to become an angel," he explained. "He had told me all about the Metatron's plan. I would have rejected it no matter what, but I had just been scolded by Nina and Maggie for not telling Aziraphale about how I felt. It just... It felt like the only chance that I had left to get him to stay."

I wondered if Crowley was telling me this because he trusted me or if it was merely because he was drunk.

"I miss him."

"I know," I muttered, hugging him a little tighter. "I miss him too."

I closed my eyes as I did that.

What else could I offer?

There was so much that I could understand. So much that I could offer him in terms of help and comfort. All I could do was hope that everything would eventually work itself out.

And at that point, that hope was getting harder and harder to hold onto.

Maybe some force in the universe would keep me from letting go of it completely. Eventually.

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#imagine #fanfiction #x reader #good omens x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens imagine #anthony j crowley x reader #anthony j crowley fanfiction #anthony j crowley imagine #crowley x reader #crowley imagine #crowley fanfiction

[noushienoushnoush]

Once again, I sit here in absolute awe of David Tennant and Michael Sheen's acting. (And also the writing for this show.)

Let's talk about S1 E6 of Good Omens, shall we? (spoilers incoming, *in Crowley's mocking tone* obviously.)

Something that absolutely went over my head the first time I watched this episode was how masterfully they fooled us about the body swap. It's a wonderful surprise the first time around, but when you re-watch the episode, certain things makes you question why Crowley acted the way he did at the trial, and same with Azirophale in Heaven. Something seemed off the whole time. And during my first watch, I took it as "oh, they're probably both nervous about what's to come." But noooo, I was dead wrong.

Here's some amazing hints that conveyed, in the most subtle way, that maybe these two supernatural beings were not in their usual bodies.

The Ice Cream Stand

From the moment they go to the ice cream stand, Aziraphale's face looks rather stressed and serious. It's rather out of the ordinary for Aziraphale, there's always a sense of emotional vulnerability in his eyes, but in this scene, there's none of that. He looks around and scans the surrounding, the way Crowley always does. He walks around Crowley, the way Crowley always does around Aziraphale.

In fact, what would be expected of the real Aziraphale would be a stiff stand and some kind of nervous smile, and at least a bit of anticipation for eating ice cream. But who do we smiling instead? "Crowley". (Putting the quotations there because of course they have switched bodies before going to the ice cream stand.) And look at how David smiles here. It's a tight smile after receiving the ice cream cone, the kind that Aziraphale would give in appreciation if he was interacting with the ice cream person (which, he technically is, in Crowley's body.) If David was acting as the real Crowley, we would have had more of grin and maybe a slight tilt of the head even.

It's such a subtle thing but my god does it makes such a big difference and shows how much David and Michael know about each other's characters and I can't even-

Reaction to Gabriel Entering the Scene

Firstly, we have a close up of Aziraphale's hand and Crowley still adjusting to how the angel's body moves and functions (which can be easily taken as adjusting to the tight grip of the rope. Honestly, it's probably a bit of both).

Then Gabriel enters and what we would naturally expect is Aziraphale losing his shit by adjusting in his seat nervously, checking to make sure he looks okay, and loads of anxiety in his voice. But we get none of that. He doesn't even nervously laugh at Gabriel's joke, just gives the slightest little twitch, the kind Crowley would give when he's stressed. There's not a hint of nervousness in his eyes, as if his emotions are tucked away, something Crowley is quite good at.

Holy Water/ Eternal Fire

When Eric shows up from Hell with the eternal fire, the real Aziraphale would've been utterly surprised, but the one sitting down just watches Eric come in as if he was expecting the demon. In fact, if you look closely, everyone reacts to the fire EXCEPT Eric and "Aziraphale".

And when Michael looks at the fire in his subtle (and brilliant) way, the look can be read as both our angel looking reflectively at the very thing that could destroy him AND as our demon in the angel's body holding back the anger that he feels when he sees that this is what they were going to do to his best friend had they not switched bodies.

And can't forget the iconic scene of the roar with the fire spitting out. That is such a Crowley move and so out of character for Aziraphale!!

And we can see the sheer joy as his eyes glow in a shade of yellow awfully similar to Crowley's. I mean that grin is also literally Crowley?!

Lastly, we have the moment where Gabriel says "shut up and die already" and rewatching the show with context of how angry Crowley was at this statement, I can literally feel Crowley's anger in Aziraphale's body here. Michael how do you this? My two brain cells are literally going brrr.

Meanwhile, in Hell, when Archangel Michael enters the scene with the holy water, Crowley looks back and is genuinely surprised, but really it's Azirophale, in Crowley's body, who's like "wait a minute, Michael?!" The real Crowley wouldn't have been surprised even one bit. He'd probably make a snarky remark in fact about something like how Heaven and Hell are not that different after all.

Tone of Voice & Dialogue

It's just all so perfect. I remember reading on Neil's Tumblr that Aziraphale generally speaks with every word in every sentence pronounced perfectly and in an almost bookish way. Crowley, on the other hand, mumbles a lot of his words. They role off the tongue very quickly. There's a peculiar snake-like vibe to the way he speaks.

But during the trial? Crowley doesn't make a single super snarky remark or mumble his words. He stands quite straight (no putting his weight on one knee or slithering around) and the way he speaks is awfully similar to Aziraphale.

"Well, yes, um..." (87.5% of Aziraphale's sentences start like this lol)

"I don't suppose in the nine circles of Hell, there's such a thing as a rubber duck?" (Crowley level snarky yes but Crowley already knows that it doesn't exist, so he would've framed it differently if it was really him speaking. This is very much peak "unexpectedly funny" Aziraphale humor.)

Also, I think the very first hint we have about the body swap, as far as dialogue goes, is when "Crowley" is knocked to the ground and says "It's not a problem. It's a tickety-boo." Just cracks me up cause again, that's something our southern pansy Aziraphale would say.

And then there's the whole scene at the park after the fact, but this post is already long enough as is lol.

I hope I'm not repeating something that another person has already mentioned. I'm just mesmerized by David and Michael's acting and Neil's writing is all. Honestly, there so many other micro moments I didn't cover. And my 2 am brain doesn't have energy for making GIFs, I hope the still images will do. Alt Text will be added soon as well.

#i literally don't know if anyone will read this but i need to vent it out #ineffable husbands #ineffablle plan #good omens #michael sheen #aziracrow #crowley #david tennant #good omens spoilers #acting? chef's kiss #production? chef's kiss #writing? chef's kiss #directing? chef's kiss

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“Is there anything else I could do for you Mr. Fell?” you asking poking your head into his office.

He turned his head towards your voice “Oh dear did you finish already?” he asked you in his sweet voice.

“Yes, I did. I’m just getting ready to settle down to work on my essay.” You told him then headed to your favorite spot in the bookshop to relax, listening to one of his records while doing research.

“That’s alright by me. I’ll make tea for the both of us and I’ll put on some music on.” Minutes after he said that you could hear ‘Earth Angel’ by the Penguins coming from the back of the bookshop.

With today’s rainy weather, the music and the smell of tea and surrounded by books you could just die happy of how perfect this was. But that all changed when someone opened the door with so much force then closed it with force, then you heard him “ANGEL!”

You got up and when to the front of the shop so you can see this person who broke the perfect moment you were trying to live longer in. There he stood with red fiery hair, black from the top to his toe and sunglasses. He raised his eyebrow at you. “Who are you?”

“How may I help you?” you two asked at the same time.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

Just then Aziraphale walked in with a tray “Oh you’re here. And I see you met Y/n.” he put the tray on the table and gave you the cup.

Crowley kept looking at you “Yes, we’ve met.” Then looked away.

“I still don’t know who you are?” You said raising your eyebrow at him.

“He’s being rude, isn’t he? That’s Anthony.” Aziraphale pointed at Crowley.

Crowley looked Aziraphale completely ignoring you “I need to talk to you right now.”

Aziraphale looked at him then at you he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Do you need me to leave Mr. Fell?” you asked because you felt him being tense.

He smiled at you “No need dear we’ll talk in the backroom.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes, now you go on and do your research. Don’t worry.” He assured you.

“Okay” before turning around you looked at Anthony “Nice to meet you mister.”

“Yeah, you too.” Then they both walked to the backroom. You had a feeling this won’t be the first or last time you see that Anthony.

*gif not mine*

#writings-of-a-demigod #good omens #good omens imagines #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #imagines

[nightgoodomens]

Since I’ve heard about Asmodeus I can’t stop imagining him actually showing up and knowing he will piss off Aziraphale by flirting with Crowley.

His whole purpose is making everyone hot and bothered so who’s going to make him love life more than Aziraphale and Crowley? 6 thousand years of repressed emotions? Bloody hell. He’d be fed for a century.

At that stage Crowley thinks Aziraphale doesn’t want him. They work together, he’d never leave the Angel alone in danger. But he tries to keep it work related only.

His heart is full of pain. Aziraphale’s full of pain too.

Both hearts full of need.

Asmodeus can tell he won’t break Crowley because Crowley knows his games and he’s too hurt. Besides he won’t get anything for making a demon sin. A Supreme Archangel though?! Oh the joy.

Besides, Aziraphale is easy. His eyes are always on Crowley. Asmodeus can sense how much he wants him. He wants to apologise, he wants to touch him, hug him, kiss him. He’s starving for him.

So Asmodeus gets to work. Aziraphale is already full of lust so Asmodeus just needs to do one thing. Flirt with Crowley. It won’t be difficult because Asmodeus might be the only demon Crowley doesn’t completely hate. But Aziraphale doesn’t know they flirt for sport. He doesn’t know that Crowley wants only one.

Unfortunately Crowley was practically dead inside so he was going to do the whole job this time.

And so he begins.

He steals Aziraphale’s time with Crowley. The Angel was using every opportunity, but he won’t when he actually has to ask for it.

Asmodeus sees Angel’s angry look towards him.

Oh, he thinks satisfied, this is only the beginning.

Next, Aziraphale sees Crowley, with his arms crossed on the table, his head on top, and Asmodeus by him. Stroking his hair behind his ear lovingly. Running his fingers through his hair.

Aziraphale needs to walk out.

Asmodeus laughs inside.

Next time, Aziraphale sees Asmodeus playing with Crowley’s hair again. Oh, he’s just plaiting it, apparently, except he sees his claws petting through Crowley’s hair over and over again, stroking his neck, and when he hears Crowley’s satisfied sigh, Aziraphale slams the door behind himself.

Asmodeus giggles inside. He creates beautiful plaits, so Aziraphale will need to stare at them all the time.

Final time is when they’re on the balcony and Asmodeus wraps his arms around Crowley’s neck. He didn’t even plan this one. They’re both tipsy as hell. He always found Crowley hot, so he hopes for some fun. He manages to place a few kisses on his throat.

That’s when Aziraphale shows up and grabs him, throwing him away from Crowley. Fuck that Angelic bitch has a lot of strength.

Crowley stares dumbfounded for a few seconds but luckily gets his shit together before Aziraphale lands his first punch. He tears Aziraphale away from him. Asmodeus can sense the upcoming fight so he smoothly disappears from their sight.

He waits long enough to hear the shouts change into moans and the smell of anger change into sex.

He goes back to Hell and tells everyone he made the Super Archangel Aziraphale sin.

He gets promoted and gets a century long holiday.

He hopes he will be invited to the wedding.

Good for you, Crowley, he thinks, sipping a drink on a beach.

#good omens #crowley #ineffable fandom #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #ineffable dumbasses #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #aziracrow #asmodeus

[denaliwrites]

Dance on a Tightrope of Weird

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Crowley was not expecting you to lose your shit when he asked what you were reading.

Soundtrack: Crazy = Genius by Panic! at the Disco

Requests: Open!

Warnings: The ravings of a madwoman. (It's me, I'm the madwoman.)

It wasn't unusual for Crowley to find you tucked away somewhere in the bookshop reading one of the countless old books Aziraphale kept around. You liked classic literature, and history, and philosophy, and who knew whatever other subjects you happened to find lying around the place.

What was unusual, however, was finding you sat in his usual armchair, reading what was decidedly not a two-hundred-year-old first-edition copy of the random novel you'd decided to bury yourself in that day.

He paused in front of you, carefully tilting the book you held up so that he could look at the cover.

"Dead Mountain?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked so high you could see it over the rim of his sunglasses.

"No, no," you said, a fire immediately lighting in your eyes. "No. Don't even get me started. This is fucking insane."

Crowley never was one to listen to your advice. "Oh?" he prompted casually, and suddenly a chair appeared behind him that he, without looking, flopped down into and sprawled across.

"No, because--"

He loved watching you read. The quiet intent, the way your face moved in tandem with whatever emotions the text wanted you to feel. He'd once walked in on you sobbing along with some tearjerking novel (as a side note, that was the first time Crowley had found himself wanting to kill a book?), and another time he'd walked in on you cheering over something... triumphant, he assumed, or at least something like that.

This was different. New.

He loved it too. The fevered look in your eyes, the frustrated set of your jaw. The way your hand, shaped like a predator's claws, gripped his knee tightly in excitement.

"This is--" you were saying, and Crowley startled back into the moment, eyes on you, attention now unwaveringly on your blazing gaze. "This is so fucking insane. I can't get over this."

"Over what, darling?" he asked, and your gaze sharpened on him, as if only just realizing he was there.

"Do you know about the Dyatlov Pass Incident?"

It sounded familiar. "Tell me all about it, darling."

"Oh, you're gonna regret that."

He wouldn't. Not ever.

"Okay, so -- Soviet Russia. 1959. Middle of winter. These nine hikers -- actually, it was originally ten. These ten experienced hikers go into the Ural Mountains to, like. Upgrade themselves? 'Cause I guess there are levels to being a hiker, and you have to go on increasingly more difficult hikes to level up. So all ten were level two or whatever, and they were going on a level three hike to upgrade to level three."

He nodded, even though all the information was secondary in his attention. He just liked listening to you.

"Okay. So they get to this little town, and while they're there, all the locals are telling them shit like, 'Don't go up that mountain,' or 'you'll die up there!' Like, horror movie type shit. The kind of stuff that makes you yell at the TV."

He was familiar with that. You did that a lot -- but so did he.

"Oh, and the mountain they were hiking on? In the local language it's called Kholat Syakhl. Do you know what that means?"

He... he did. He knew what everything in every language meant. But he let you have this, because you were clearly excited. Seeing the way you motioned with the book, he waved toward it and asked, "Dead mountain?"

"Fucking -- dead mountain!"

He chuckled, but otherwise stayed silent.

"So they're getting all these crazy warnings and the mountain is literally called Dead Mountain in the local language, but they decide to go anyway! So they go off, but before they get very far, one of them is like, 'I'm so sick, I can't go on!' and so he tells them he's gonna go back to the town, and they leave without him."

"I take it he's the only survivor?"

You nodded. "Yeah. The other nine kept going. Oh, and another crazy thing -- one of the girls on the trip was keeping a journal? That's how we know about, like... 90% of the things that happened after they left the town."

He nodded. "Makes sense."

"So, because of this girl's journal, right? We know that one of the hikers just, like, fully went off his fucking rocker about a day into the trip."

"What?" Crowley asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Yeah! He started getting really antsy, and he kept shouting stuff at seemingly nothing? He yelled, like, 'Stop following us!' and stuff like that. At nothing!"

Crowley, for effect, took his sunglasses off so that you could see his surprised look.

"Anyway. So they keep going, even though literally everything that could ever say 'turn back' is saying 'turn the fuck back!' They got off course --"

"As you do."

"As you fucking do. They got off course and decided to hunker down for the night and retrace their steps in the morning. They set up camp, went to bed, and then they all fucking died."

"Oh, I imagine there's more to it than that," Crowley said.

The grin on your face was bordering on manic. "Oh, of course. First of all, according to the girl's journal, two of the hikers went batshit, started laughing hysterically for no reason, and then took off into the night, never to be seen again -- well, not alive, anyway."

"Ominous," Crowley observed thoughtfully.

"Right? And the other weird thing about that -- well, pre them all dying. There was, according to the girl, a big, glowing orange ball of light in the sky that night. They have a picture of it," you said, turning the book so that he could see. "Of course, it's in black and white, but still. And -- the craziest part of that, is that there were hikers on the other side of the mountain on the same night who confirmed the big glowing orange ball of light!"

Crowley's mouth dropped open.

"I KNOW! And then -- their deaths are even more bizarre! First of all, they cut their way out of their tent? Like, they didn't just -- open it and leave. They cut. Their way out. And then they ran down the side of the mountain into the trees. No one's really sure how anything else happened, but what we know for sure is that three of them were found a little up the mountain, like they'd been trying to make their way back up."

"Mhm."

"And two were found naked -- right at the edge of the trees, under one of the bigger ones. Some branches in the tree were broken in a way that seems to indicate that they were trying to climb up and get a view of the camp. There were also remains of a fire beside the bodies. We don't know for sure why they were naked, but the theory is paradoxical stripping."

"And what's that?" Crowley asked, even though he knew.

"It's when you're so cold that you start to feel hot, and so you take off all your clothes."

Demonic work, he was sure.

"So that's five of them. They were found shortly after they died. The other four weren't found until a few months later, after the spring thawed a lot of the snow."

"Why weren't they found right away?"

"Because they were found in a ravine about a mile past the treeline! Three of them were found in a stream in this ravine. One of them had a piece of her skull missing? And all of them had major trauma to their chests -- like, high-speed impact by a delivery truck kind of major impact. To this day, no one's sure what the fuck caused that kind of damage."

Crowley clicked his tongue in thought.

"And the last one -- she was found sitting up against a big boulder? The official report describes her like that. Sitting up against a boulder. She had, like, chunks of her face missing? And her tongue was missing. Like, the whole thing."

"You specified the official report," Crowley observed. "Is that important?"

"Oh! Yes! Because the pictures of the area? They show her as laying face down in the stream with the others!"

"That's suspicious."

"Right? On top of all that, their bodies had traces of radiation! Not their clothes, though, or their belongings. Just the bodies."

Crowley hummed.

"Oh! And their tent -- when authorities found the tent, it looked like it had been put up by amateurs. Like, level zero hikers. But these were level two hikers doing their level three hike. There's no reason their tent would've been put up like that. Even if they were in a rush or scared or whatever, it would've been put up at least sort of better."

He nodded in understanding.

"It's just -- it's all so crazy!"

"I can tell," he mused aloud, lips quirking into a smirk at your perplexed and frustrated expression.

"The thing with the girl's face is really weird," you said after a moment of thought. "The theory is scavengers, but reports of the incident specify there were no animals in the area. Like, I feel like if there were scavengers, you'd write down 'no predators,' or even 'no wolves or bears.' But no, they wrote, very specifically, 'no animals.' Like, I dunno, it just feels like that's a weird distinction to make. But then, if there weren't any animals, how did her face end up with bits missing?"

"I couldn't tell you."

"And why lie about her, too? Why move her and put her in the stream when the report literally says she was up against the boulder?"

He shrugged, before shifting forward to grip your knee.

"I just -- it's all so crazy, and weird, and -- and --"

"Oh," Crowley interjected, looking thoughtful. "Now I know why that all sounds familiar."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that was demonic work," he continued, blissfully unaware of your increasingly maddening expression. "I'm pretty sure that was my side."

"So you -- you know what happened?"

He finally caught your expression, the set of your jaw and slight twitch in your eye. "Oh -- yeah. Of course," he said, sounding rather unsure, actually. If anything, that just seemed to aggravate you more. "Space yetis."

"... SPACE YETIS!?"

#crowley x reader #crowley x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #david tennant #this fic is purely self indulgent nonsense #reader is me #literally #the dyatlov pass incident haunts me to this day #fun fact I did not use google wikipedia or any other source for this fic #i just have basically every detail memorized #like a crazy person

[bloodashre]

"You're the idiot!"

Aziraphale's heart pounded. He'd never said anything like that before, certainly not to Crowley. The demon snapped back around, his face a mix of confusion and anger.

"What?"

Aziraphale hesitated. "You're always calling me an idiot-"

"-because you're always acting like one-"

"-when really, you're the idiot."

Crowley was incredulous. "Me? I'm not the one who decided to throw away 6000 years of friendship and - and love - and - and fly off back to Heaven."

"I had to, Crowley. They needed me."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "They needed to use you, you mean. Or make you their scapegoat. Or - to tear us apart. Well good on them, it worked."

"Not Heaven. Humanity."

Crowley stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well I was... Well to be honest, I was too proud to tell you the truth."

"OK, and what is the truth?"

Aziraphale hesitated. "I - I -"

"Oh would you just say it already angel?" The last word left his lips before he could stop himself.

"What did you mean when you said love?" Aziraphale flashed his blue eyes at him. Crowley was taken aback. "What?"

"A minute ago, you said I threw away 6000 years of friendship and love and -"

Crowley shook his head. "Nothing, it was - it was nothing. You're deflecting, angel." Aziraphale's eyes widened and he smirked. "So are you." Crowley cleared his throat."There's just nothing to talk about," he stiffened. "That was just -"

Aziraphale grinned and pressed his lips against Crowley's, the way he'd always denied wanting to before Crowley had kissed him.

Crowley thawed on the spot immediately. He couldn't help it. This is what he had wanted when he had first kissed Aziraphale. He could feel everything else stop, but it wasn't the same as when he stopped time. It was like time was still going, but the two of them were in their own separate bubble that was moving at its own pace outside of time. Despite enjoying it, he had never truly understood Aziraphale's desire for food on the same level as him. But this - this he understood. He never wanted to let him go again.

The angel's hands caressed his cheek and another his back and he felt himself shiver involuntarily like he had the last time. Even though he had had desires before - alcohol, knowledge, occasionally food, music - he had never wanted anything this much in his existence before. He wanted what humans had.

His insides screamed for his touch, to be close to his angel. He pressed his lips back against the blond's, his body taking over all control. He gently pulled him in tightly, like there was no closeness that would ever be enough for him.

Aziraphale let himself go and fell into the - his demon's touch. It was the first time he had ever allowed himself to think of Crowley as his. Yet no matter how he had it tried to deny it for the last 6000 years, it was all he had ever really wanted. Crowley pushed back against him softly and he could feel himself sinking into the strongest temptation he had ever felt. The first time Crowley had given him food had been nothing compared to this. He kissed him back until the pressure in his chest was so tight that he had to pull away.

"I wanted to go to you," he breathed when they broke apart. "I nearly did."

"Why didn't you? All this time, angel, we could've -" Aziraphale smiled and rubbed a hand gently across his cheek. "I had to go. When - when The Metatron and I were talking - after - after - well, after anyway, he told me what they were planning. And I just couldn't walk away. And I knew if I told you, you would try to stop me, or it would give me away or - well, at any rate, I had to make a choice. And -"

"-You chose Heaven."

"No. Well, I mean, yes. But then no. And then yes, but also no. OK, so yes, initially, that did happen. But then, well, you kissed me, and I really thought for a moment about taking it all back, but there was so much pressure and you and me, well it was never going to work."

"Right," Crowley said in a disappointed voice.

"And then when The Metatron and I were walking, he told me what they were planning and I reconsidered for-for a moment."

"Okay..."

"Well I stood there and I thought about what you had said and how - how I felt and I really was going to walk away for a moment. But then I thought about you and how good you are -"

"I keep telling you, I'm not."

"But you are. You are what Heaven ought to be, Crowley."

"I'm - what?"

"Look at all the good you've done over the years. You - you never should have been cast out, Crowley."

"Careful, someone might hear you."

"But it's true. And I thought about it you knew what I knew in that moment and what you would do. And I knew you would fight. And that the best way was from the inside, where I could gather the most information. So I went."

"You what? The whole time?"

Aziraphale's cheeks reddened and he smiled sheepishly back at Crowley. "You know what angel? I think I just fell even more in love with you." His own words caught him by surprise.

"I-"

Before he could protest or take them back, Aziraphale was kissing him again. "I love you too, Crowley," he whispered. The demon's eyes fell closed and he felt himself melting into him once more.

#crowley #good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #fanfic #oneshot #mine #go season 3 #I've got so many of these #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #another season 3 idea

[noforkingclue]

Desperation

Summary: The end times are near and Crowley has come to you with a proposition.

Author's Note: decided to publish this as it was sitting in my WiP folder for too long and since I've also started re-watching Good Omens I thought now was as good as time to publish it!

You always knew when Crowley and/or Aziraphale were in your flat. Call it an instinct that developed from knowing them for over thousands of years. Which was why it was so surprising to see Crowley standing in the middle of your flat without any prior warning.

You paused when you saw the demon standing there and you carefully shut the door behind you. He twitched at the sound but didn’t turn around. You slowly made your way towards him, nervous about what was going to happen. You frowned briefly at the unfamiliar feeling coiling in the pit of your stomach, it had been years since he had made you feel like that.

“Crowl-“

“Everything’s fucked.”

You blinked at Crowley’s sudden outburst. While you’d heard him swear before it wasn’t that usual. You winced as you heard the sound of cracking wood and looked down, realising that he was gripping your table so hard that he was splintering the wood.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, worried about your friend as well as the future of your table. It was an antique after all.

“Have a cup of tea and tell me what’s happened.”

“What’s happened?” Crowley let out a bark of laughter, “What’s happened is the world’s ending and Hell knows that all of this,” he spun around and waved his hands about, “Is because of me! I misplaced the antichrist and now they’re coming.”

“Oh.”

“So I’m leaving.”

“That’s sensible.”

“And I want you to come with me.”

You froze, midway through making that cup of tea you promised. You looked at Crowley out of the corner of your eye. He walked over to you and put a hand over yours, forcing you to lower the kettle.

“It isn’t safe anymore,” he said, “Everything is going to get destroyed. Hell and Heaven are going to war and it isn’t going to be pretty. We can escape. Be safe.”

“What about Aziraphale?”

Crowley, who had rested his forehead against your shoulder, tensed behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against him.

“He think he can stop this,” he muttered, “He isn’t coming.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly you were spun around and pushed roughly against the counter. You gasped in shock and Crowley tilted your chin so you were looking directly into his eyes. It was the first time you had properly seen him and you could see the desperation etched across his face. His sunglasses were gone and you were forced to look into his yellow eyes. He grabbed your chin and forced your head in place.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, “It’ll just be the two of us.”

“But what about-“

“Shh, don’t think about him.”

You opened your mouth to protest but Crowley seized the opportunity to press his lips against yours. You squeaked in surprise as Crowley wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you roughly against him. You put your hands against his chest but found them trapped between your bodies. Crowley broke the kiss but remained close. You felt his lips brush against yours and he said,

“Just think about me.”

“And the world.”

“We’ll be safe.”

“We’ll be on the run.”

“We’ll have each other.”

“And Azira-“

Crowley covered your mouth with a hand. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“I thought I told you not to think about him.”

He removed his hand and brushed your cheek with the back of it. He smile softly and his gaze dropped back down to your lips.

“If Zira thinks that there’s hope then there must be.”

“So you’re choosing him?”

Crowley shook his head and gave you a bitter smile. He stepped away and you gave him a pained look. You took half a step towards him but he put his hands up to stop you.

“I understand,” he said, “one last hurrah.”

“Crowley-“

“It was fun while it lasted.”

“We can still beat this.”

“No we can’t.”

And with that you were once again left alone with only your hope to keep you company.

#fanfiction #good omens #reader insert #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader

[kotias]

South Downs cottage - Our Eden

Okay, I've decided to create the cottage that I envision for Aziraphale and Crowley's final retirement at the end of the story.

I have used the Sims 4 game, meaning that I have been a bit limited on a few things, but here it comes, the vision I have for it.

Anyone looking for references, for inspiration, whether it is for drawing or writing, is very welcome to use those pictures.

In a story being worked on together with @daneecastle, called Our Eden, here is the full description:

Our Eden

(2836 words)

It felt like it had been two hundred years in preparation. And in a way, it was; the universe had so kindly presented him to the suicidal girl who had made it all possible, after all. It had so kindly given him a way to help her that would change her so dramatically that the effects of it still rippled through current days. His hands started shaking, and he pretended it was the strain of the walk. He had received the rights to that land in 1884, as Elspeth expired in her farm near Fulking, leaving a will addressed to him. He had spent years and years preparing it, honing it to perfection. He had build a proper garden out of the enormous fields, made it something his. Something theirs. Back then, he thought he may have lost Aziraphale, and yet receiving the land had sparked something new in him. He had spent an ungodly amount of time, only planting his trees, giving them time and space to grow into the luscious beauties they were today. He guided him through what felt almost like a forest, infused with his attentions. The apples had started showing- he grabbed one on the way, gave it to the angel. Anxiety spiked as they approached and were about to come into the final view. He pushed him against a tree, blocking his path, and kissed him, passionately, desperately, with all his love pouring out. He was shuddering. He wanted him to- He kissed him, again and again. The tree above them glowed a golden sheen.

"Cro-" more kissing. "Crowley-" Even more kissing. "Mm!" Aziraphale couldn't break away. So he pushed hard. "CROWLEY! What is going on?"

Crowley pursed his lips. Fuck it. He took his shades off, pushed them down into the pocket of his vest. He had never been good at hiding his emotions, his eyes betrayed them all. His anxiety, mixed with unfathomable excitement, was shining through them, he knew that very well. But Aziraphale knew what taking them off meant; he trusted him, he trusted him entirely, and he wanted him to know. "Just... just a little bit longer." He grabbed his hand again, and they were back on the path. Very quickly afterwards, he opened a little garden door, they passed another set of weeping willows, and there they were. The old farm had been rebuilt entirely into a cottage. A ground floor and a first floor, hidden under a dark tile roof. Maroon bricks, intertwined with regular touches of beige on the rims. Big, white windows all around it, giving more than sufficient lighting to the entire place. Large, teal shutters were attached to the walls. The entire garden around it had been fournished as to compliment its outdoor colours, and deeper into it, an enormous greenhouse had been installed, and was already almost exploding with greeneries. "... well. That's-" He forced himself to breathe. "That would be ours, if... if you would like to."

[...]

"Wanna visit the property properly, angel?" While he was swimming in his relief that his companion loved what he had created, and could stay there for days, he saw the looks he gave to the place, and of course he would be more than happy to show him what he had built for them.

Crowley took the hand and heaved himself up, cradled Aziraphale's hands into his own and kissed them. "Come on." He guided him back through the weeping willows, through the little garden gate, and they lost themselves into the near-forest he had taken the time of erecting for a century and a half. The trees who were welcoming them into the orchard were none other than apple trees of various types, blessing them with reds, greens and yellows. They were sheltered under gigantic mirabelle plum trees whose branches were hugging their little siblings, mixing their tame golden with the reds of their counterparts. The wind -or so Crowley pretended- was passing through the leaves, shaking them slightly as they passed below them. Like a finely-tuned music, nectarine trees, mixing their blonde and crimson colours into perfectly round and juicy fruits. Extending lower on the ground, several mulberry trees were offering a dark shelter from the sun and from any external view.

With a few steps, Crowley leaned down to pass under them, and leaned against the trunk of one of them, pulling Aziraphale against him. He gave him a kiss and brought him out of the leafy shelter, opening his view to a little vineyard he had managed to put together in the last decade. The vines adorned themselves with the blush colours of the setting sun, and opened their arms to the view of Devil's Dyke below. The never-ending greenery, the valley and the hills were battling for a chance to be seen by their two pairs of eyes, demanded the full spotlight and, in doing so, enhanced each other even more. Far into the horizon, beyond the curves of this landscape, glittered the shadow of the sea, reflecting the Heavens above like the Sun dropping into it burned like Hell below.

[...]

In his estimation, fifteen minutes passed before he nudged Aziraphale forward in their tour. They circled the orchard, until they reached the peaches and the pears that were hanging proudly from their trees. He guided him back into the small forest, and quickly, they were entirely covered with foliage above their heads. "I wanted to have more than one originally, but... they just don't know when to stop taking all the space. I thought it safer to just leave the one." This one was a fig tree, whose trunk was large, almost veiny with small craters all over, and its leaves and branches were extending so far beyond it that it had made itself a proper clearing. No other trees were allowed in its protection, and its roots were merrily swimming just below the surface of the ground, peeking through in a few spots. "But, strangely enough..." he brought him to the other side of the trunk and pointed to a large bush whose sharp-looking leaves were climbing up the fig tree like a praying Saint. "It seems to have gotten well acquainted with the strawberries. I don't know how they even appeared here, I for sure didn't plant them, but they've been clinging onto it for about ten years, I'd say." He leaned over the bush and picked one of its fruits, offered it to the angel. "Their taste really is unique, it seems that they've taken a bit of inspiration from the figs above them."

He brought him further into the orchard and back out the other side, and they were back into the garden around the cottage. Bushes full of fruits and vegetable patches were trailing their way around the back fence and contained to a single, rather large area, hidden behind rhododendron flowers. Crowley snapped his fingers for a basket, and did that a second time to collect the never-ending stream of growing zucchinis that were trying very hard to take over the entire area. A few pumpkins were starting to show, and the carrots and potatoes were just about to be ready- only a few additional weeks. Snap. The basket was sent into the kitchen directly. The sun was almost entirely set now, and the light was getting very dim. "If we enter the greenhouse now, I don't think you'll be able to see much. How about we go tomorrow morning, and I show you the house?"

"Yes, I'd like to see the greenhouse with the light, I believe thats where I'll find your best handy work so ..." He gestured toward the cottage. "After you?"

Crowley wrapped his arm around Aziraphale's and led him to the cottage's front door and unlocked it. He couldn't help a deep breath before opening the door, feeling his heart race again. That was it. Everything else would mean nothing if he didn't like the inside. The entry was a short corridor where a thin, dark brown table had been placed for usual end-of-the day clutter; it was open in a way that gave some space for the shoes of the hosts and visitors alike. By its side on the wall, a few hooks had been placed for any coat that needed taking off. It was quite simple, with walls painted yellow and a maroon ceiling. On the left, there was a bathroom as Crowley showed, rather large for the use they may have of it; a toilet, a sink, and, behind a semi-clear curtain, a grand bathtub, with enough space for two people to bathe without feeling the tiniest bit cramped. "I figured that you may appreciate visitors. There are a few families around here, and the kids get easily curious, I'm sure they'll pop by eventually. So... thought I'd furnish it properly, with the toilets and all."

[...]

He opened the door on the other side of the corridor, showing the living room, with one mahogany bookshelf taking over the wall in front of them, entirely empty except for two plants crawling their way up to the ceiling and showing off their vibrant green leaves all around the shelves. On their right was a large, arch-like window that would fully lit up the room during the day, in front of which were two armchairs and a small side table. In front of them, he had placed an off-white oak table that would comfortably host six diners, eight if they were feeling generous, but at the moment, a wooden bench and matching two chairs were surrounding it. On the far left of the room, a large couch and a low table were facing a grand chimney. Just before the couch was an archway that gave a hint of the kitchen hiding behind the wall.

Aziraphale wandered into the room, touching the furniture and looking at all the details of the room, a big smile on his face as he explored the living room. "This is so cozy! I love the chairs." He came to the arm chairs and leaned against one. "Do you prefer to have one or the other? Or is it 'whatever closer'?"

Crowley smiled tenderly at the angel. "You seem to have chosen yours already. Go on, try them out- I think you'll like them."

Aziraphale smiled, glad to see that Crowley noticed which one he favored. He sat in the armchair and leaned into it. It almost felt like he melted into the chair. "It's so comfortable and yet not too much so, I can definitely see myself spending a long time in this chair." He got up and walked over to Crowley, "next room?"

He nodded when it was time to get to the next step, and guided him through the archway and into the kitchen. Compared to the other rooms, it was rather small, but, Crowley thought, rather well furnished. It also was entirely Aziraphale, he hoped. Its soft, pastel colours, mainly beiges and teals, were lighting it up quite nicely, particularly considering that the window in this room was not quite as impressive as the one in the living room. It had a small folding table placed against the nearest wall with two high stools, where his basket full of almost overgrown zucchinis was resting. All over the right corner, facing the door leading to the entry, were a large set of counters and cupboards, an oven and a stove. In one of the cupboards, he had hidden as many kitchen appliances as he could find, enough to make the angel's life easier whatever the task he set himself to do. On the left side of the room was the stone staircase leading them upstairs; before it was a glass door bringing them back outside, behind it was one last door to be opened- and that was the big one. His library.

Aziraphale examined every drawer and cupboard. He pointed out the appliances he knew and questioned and investigated the ones he didn't; he was on an adventure through the kitchen, really getting to know everything. He knew this was his place. He had not really gotten too much into cooking,as he usually only made things for himself, but this time was different. He wasn't just cooking for himself. He was cooking for Crowley too, even if his demon only drank alcohol and coffee; he still got to share that experience. He hurried over to Crowley like a little kid. "Apologies dear, I couldn't help but explore. What's the next room?" He tipped his head ever so slightly in curiosity.

"Oooh, I think you'll like it." He really hoped he would. He took his hand, brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss, looking straight into his eyes. "And please, tell me if you would change anything." He brought him to the door, and opened it. While it had not been filled with books yet, the library was covered, on every wall, from the floor to the ceiling, with book shelves. That was a very round and rather high room, crawling all the way up to the end of the first floor, almost eating into the roof of the cottage, and every bookshelf had been designed to embrace those facts. They were accompanying the walls, hugged them perfectly all the way up to the roof. Three more of them, thinner and shorter, had been placed closer to the middle, creating a visual guide to the large window on the left side, mirroring the one in the living room. In that place, he had installed a wooden resting place, with plenty of cushions and plaids to keep it comfortable. Under that bench, he had created a large space to confine all sorts of blankets, tartan covers, pillows and other comfortable fabrics that would prove incredibly useful during the winter period. Covering the ground, he had chosen soft, dark blue carpeting, and placed more ottomans and footstools in the middle of the room, and a small, low metal table had been fixed on the floor for stability. Aziraphale did love drinking something with his reading, it would be a shame for it to stupidly fall on the floor due to a bad movement making the table tumble. Crowley gave plenty of time to the angel to discover his space, sat on the wooden bench while he was looking around, anxiously watching his reactions.

Aziraphale's reaction was bigger than any of the other rooms he was so overjoyed that his wings burst out and stuck to him as he ran around checkout every detail of his library. He would chatter on and on about what books he wanted to stack where, what he wanted to do with which area during which time of year. He even joked about letting Crowley sleep in a little area for him to cuddle with his Angel when he wanted to read. Then he came running back, floating when he leaped, his wings assisting, then pounced Crowley kissing him. "Thank you! This is absolutely wonderful, my love!"

"Well, as you'd have it, that was the plan-" He kicked into the bench's sides, and a little door to its hidden space opened, revealing the overflow of covers. "I know how much time you'll spend in here, angel, and I'd hate for either of us to get cold. Now, since you're already floating- if you go up to the next floor, you should be able to see your study. I made it so it felt part of the library." It was a little space he had created with a desk full of drawers and a few shelves, usually accessible by going up the stairs, and facing the open space of the library with only a fence separating them. Two windows circled it, giving it a fair bit of light.

Aziraphale paused and looked behind him, and giggled, let his wings vanish. "No, I think I'll go up there the human way. Care to show me?"

[...]

He chortled against his mouth and grabbed his hands, dragged him towards the bedroom's door, opened it with a kick and brought him in. It was a great room, he thought; full of warm colours, albeit on the darker side of the spectrum. The walls were burgundy, with large beige accents all over them, and the lamp above them was adorned with golden colours. On their right, the wall was comprised of a large, retractable door, with large mirrors attached to it, opening to what he knew was an enormous walk-in wardrobe, big enough to host all the clothes they had amassed during the last centuries. There were two little, dark side tables with small lamps attached to them. But the main piece was the bed; perfectly outraged with the tiny thing that Aziraphale dared call his resting place in the bookshop, Crowley had taken it upon himself to make it a proper King size, which had been covered with white and teal bed sheets on which slithered a red bedspread.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #south downs cottage #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #michael sheen #david tennant #the sims 4 #the sims community #the sims

[book-place]

Toddlers and Toys

Warnings: mentions of child abandonment, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Crowley x daughter reader, Aziraphale x daughter reader

*not my gif*

Summary: It’s Christmas day, but you appear to be the only one in your household to care

A/N: Welcome to the bonus day of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Daddy! Papa!” You cheered, little feet pattering loudly against the carpeted floor, “Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Crowley groaned, turning his face to bury it further in his pillow, “Shut her up, Angel.”

“You’re the one who wanted her,” His husband mumbled back, eyes not even opening as he responded, already drifting back off into a slumber.

“Well, I didn’t know that she planned on getting up at the crackass of dawn everyday.” He grumbled back.

You giggled at your fathers antics, hopping up onto their bed and jumping in between them, eyes dazzling with excitement as you shook the bed to try and stir them from their sleepy states.

“It’s Christmas!” You repeated.

“I heard you the first time.” Crowley grumbled, “Now go back to bed.”

“I don’t wanna-“ You were cut off by Aziraphale pulling you down gently and wrapping his arms around you, snuggling you to his chest in hopes of all three of you being able to go back to sleep.

Crowley and Aziraphale had found you, abandoned by the side of the road, about two years ago, when you were merely three years old.

Shockingly, Crowley had somehow been the one to find it in his heart to want to take you in right away, though it wasn’t as if it took much to convince his husband to feel the same.

“Papa!” You complained, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, “Help me, daddy!” You cried desperately, flailing your arms around to try and grab ahold of your other father.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to raise your parents from bed, you fell backwards with a huff, ignoring your papas content hum when you did so.

Finally, when their breathing had once again evened out, you were able to slide out of Aziraphales grasp and softly move off the bed before smirking in a way that was all too much like Crowley’s, and flipping on the bright lights.

Crowley automatically hissed dramatically as if the artificial light was blinding him as he brought the covers over his face. Aziraphale, on the other hand, slowly sat up and looked around in confusion.

You giggled at the two of them before spreading your arms and jumping up and down, “Come on, daddy! Come on, papa! It’s Christmas!”

Your light haired father released a sigh through his nose before throwing back the covers and getting out of bed when he realized that there was no arguing with you today.

“You too, daddy!” You called, walking over and taking his arm while trying to drag him out of the sheets.

“No,” He complained as he fell limply to the floor, “It’s too early, child.”

Aziraphale smiled softly at the two of you, walking over and scooping you up into his arms, “Come now, Crowley, it is Christmas after all.”

“Yes, yes,” He grumbled, slowly dragging himself off the rug, “I heard her the last fifty times.”

You giggled again, leaning over and planting a sloppy kiss on your fathers cheek.

He sighed, reaching out and ruffling your hair. He never could stay mad at you.

You tugged at Aziraphale’s shirt and whined a little, “Come on, papa, I wanna go downstairs.”

“Alright, alright, calm down, young one.” He chuckled slightly to himself and sent an amused glance towards Crowley, who just crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath a little.

Aziraphale used his free hand to grasp onto Crowley’s, and the three of you made your way downstairs.

As soon as you reached the foot of the steps, you audibly gasped as your eyes widened and little and your head snapped back and forth in wonder.

The entire first floor had been decorated to absolute perfection thanks your dads- and a little bit of miracles- the night before so that it would be ready by the time you woke up.

Christmas lights hung from the ceiling, trees were in every corner with ornaments and shining, bright stars proudly displayed on the top.

An excited squeal escaped your lips as you arrived in the living room, where the biggest tree in the house stood, a bit poorer decorated than the others because the husbands had let you do it a couple days prior.

And underneath, were mounds upon mounds of presents.

You bit your lip- though it did nothing to stop your ever growing smile- and bounced up and down slightly in anticipation.

“Well, Crowley,” Aziraphale said in mock wonderment, “Whatever shall we do with all these presents?”

Said man smirked a little as they both looked down at you, “Why, I don’t know, Aziraphale.” He teased, “If only we had someone to open all of them for us.”

You looked just about ready to burst by then.

“Oh my.” Aziraphel fake gasped as he looked down at you, “Do you think our daughter would possibly be interested in opening all of these gifts?”

You nodded your head vigorously in return.

“Hmm,” Your other father put a hand on his chin as if he were contemplating, “You know what, all right, you can open them, little one.”

You squealed again and pumped a fist in the air, hugging their legs tightly before diving into the wrapping paper and boxes.

On it went, with Crowley and Aziraphel lounged comfortably against a couch, and you ripping open the boxes full of toys, candies, and more that they had both gotten for you.

By the time you had finished, wrapping lay every which way, and you were curled up under the tree, surrounded by all your new things, sleeping steadily.

Crowley scoffed lightly at the sight of you, “And she thought she wasn’t tired.”

Aziraphel chuckled as he looked at you with fondness, “I think she rather enjoyed herself.”

“Indeed,” He lolled his head to face his husband against the back of the couch, “Merry Christmas, Angel.”

“Merry Christmas, Crowley.” He said back, taking his husbands hand with a smile.

Ineffable Husbands 😇- none yet

#book places christmas event #platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #ineffable family series #good omens #good omens x reader #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands x reader #crowley x reader #crowley x child reader #crowley x daughter reader #crowley x reader platonic #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x child reader #aziraphale x daughter reader #aziraphale x reader platonic #child reader

[mimisempai]

It will last forever

Summary

Who would have thought that Aziraphale's need to use the Bentley would expose some of Crowley's insecurities? 

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #5: Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1386 words

"Crowley, can you give me the keys to the Bentley?"

The demon, who was lying on the sofa, sat up and asked in a confused tone, "What do you need them for?"

Aziraphale sighed, "I know you freeze up every time I ask you for the keys, but it's been two weeks since I warned you that I needed the car to pick up some books from an old collector who's a long way from here and whose town isn't served by the train."

Crowley replied, "Ah yes, about that, actually, I..."

Aziraphale interrupted, clearly annoyed, "Ah, no, not again. I don't want to get into another argument about the fact that it's your car and you don't like me customizing it when I borrow it - knowing that it does it all by itself, by the way- and..."

Crowley tried to interrupt, but the angel had gotten carried away and continued, "I thought we were past this. For God's sake, my precious bookshop has been OUR bookshop for a long time, even before we lived together, and you're certainly there more often than I use the Bentley."

"But, Angel..."

Aziraphale didn't listen to him, pulled his hat over his head, picked up his briefcase and took a quick step toward the door of the bookshop, then, under Crowley's stunned expression, finished, "All right, I'll be fine. Don't expect me for dinner."

Then he walked out and slammed the door so hard that the small "Closed" sign fell to the floor.

Crowley snapped out of his stupor and ran after him, but when he reached the street, he saw that the angel was already gone. 

The demon whispered, "I don't even know where he went."

"Is there trouble in heaven?"

Crowley turned to Nina, who was standing in the doorway of the coffee shop, and replied curtly, "None of your business," then turned and locked himself in the bookshop.

First he walked in circles, poured himself a glass of scotch, swallowed it in one gulp, then returned to Aziraphale's desk, looked around for anything that might give him a clue - the collector's name, the town, anything - but found nothing.

Then he went to the sofa, thinking that if he slept as he always did, time would pass more quickly and Aziraphale would be back.

He will come back, right?

“Don't expect me for dinner.”

Wait.

Unable to shake the sudden fear that gripped his heart, Crowley straightened.

“Don't expect me for dinner.”

It just meant that he would be late, right?

Not that he might not come home.

Of course not, no.

But it was also the angel's fault.

Aziraphale didn't even listen to him and jumped to the conclusion.

As if Crowley had ever been able to deny him anything.

After all, it was their favorite game, wasn't it?

Crowley would be begged, but he always gave in in the end.

Every time.

Then he stopped and ran a hand through his hair, his anxiety returning with a vengeance.

But then again, maybe Aziraphale had grown tired of it.

“Nothing lasts forever.”

Could it be that what Crowley had feared since they had been together was already happening?

Lost in thought, he didn't hear the bookshop door open or the sound of the briefcase hitting the floor.

"Crowley..."

He turned sharply and gasped as he saw him, right in front of him.

Aziraphale.

He didn't even think and immediately closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the Angel's neck before hugging him with all his might.

He was back.

Then, as if he couldn't believe it, he pulled back a little, muttering, "I'm sorry, Angel," before closing the distance again and kissing him with all the strength of his feelings, not even noticing that he was crying.

Suddenly, he felt Aziraphale's hands on his shoulders and the angel gently pushed him away, saying with a concerned expression, "Crowley, love, wait, please."

Crowley started to pull away, but Aziraphale shook his head and held him back, saying softly, "I'm the one who's sorry," then sliding his hands down the demon's arms, he grabbed his hands and pulled him toward the sofa, making him sit down before sitting next to him, still holding his hands.

Then, seeing the demon's tear-stained cheeks, he raised his hand and wiped them with his thumb, saying with a sorry look, "Oh, Crowley, I'm so sorry.

Crowley muttered in a hoarse voice, "Have you had enough of me yet?"

The angel's expression went from sorry to shocked, "What? No, no way! How can you believe that?"

The demon replied, "I wasn't going to say no, you know? About the Bentley. If I say no, you know it's not true, you know I always give in in the end." Thoughts raced through his mind and words came out of his lips, incoherently, but he continued, "You said it that day, nothing lasts forever. And maybe it's now the case..."

"Hey, Crowley, stop, stop, that has nothing to do with it. Of course I haven't grown tired of you, and I never will. You've done nothing wrong. As soon as I got to the end of the street, I realized I'd been a fool. I was so sure that I would have to argue a lot to get you to accept that I went ahead and ended up getting carried away out of nowhere. I am so sorry for making you feel so insecure, so let me reassure you again. There's not a chance in a thousand years that I'll get tired of you. Never."

He held the demon's face in his hands before continuing, "Let me correct my terrible words of that day. When I told you that nothing lasts forever, I was lying. It was a desperate argument to try to convince you. I don't believe that. I've always loved you and I'll always love you. My love for you will last forever. There's not much I'm certain of, but this I am. With all my heart."

He closed the distance between them and captured the demon's lips in a kiss that conveyed the strength of his feelings better than words.

When they pulled away to catch their breath, Crowley said softly, "Mine, too you know."

"What?"

"My love for you, Angel, it will also last forever."

Aziraphale nodded before opening his arms and Crowley immediately snuggled up to him, wrapping his arms around the angel's waist as Aziraphale held him with all his might, whispering into the demon's hair, "I'll never leave you."

Crowley pressed himself even closer, if that was possible, humming with contentment in response.

They stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the happiness of having found each other again, when suddenly Crowley sat up a little and, under the angel's puzzled expression, rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out the keys to the Bentley and handed them to Aziraphale.

"No, Crowley, that's not necessary..."

The demon stopped the angel from continuing by putting a finger to his lips, then took his hand and opened it, placing the keys inside before covering them with his own and saying softly, "You were right, it's our Bentley. These keys are yours. I made a spare set for you. You can keep them for life. You don't have to ask me anymore, just tell me when you need the car. That's what I wanted to tell you earlier when I didn't accept right away."

Aziraphale's expression changed from shocked to mortified as he said, "I feel even more of an idiot. I am so sorry, Crowley."

The demon pressed a kiss to the angel's forehead and replied, "Don't be, it's not like I'm not used to your shortcoming, or you to mine. We're the kind of people who go for it and think about it later. After millennia, you and I have learned not to hold grudges and to admit our mistakes."

Aziraphale nodded and replied, "So to thank you and make amends, let me go for it one more time."

Then, putting his money where his mouth was, he pressed his lips to the demon's in a tender kiss that was returned with equal sweetness and, as the kiss lingered, the keys to the Bentley were still in their joined hands, a definitive sign of their reconciliation.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

[actual-changeling]

no but after seeing crowley and aziraphale so utterly relaxed and comfortable around each other, walking, sitting, talking closely together, touching, aziraphale no longer having his hands behind his back, just imagine how fucking painful it will be to get an entirely new kind of distance between them in season 3.

they never stayed far apart, not even in eden, not after their fights, never.

aziraphale returns to earth and for every step he takes towards crowley, both emotionally and physically, crowley takes one back.

don't touch me, is never said out loud, yet it's there all the same, written in the air between them.

don't touch me, because it hurts, because it reminds me of what we lost, because it's never going to be enough.

don't touch me, because i will cave, i will fall back into your arms, and cling and cling and cling, until you leave me again.

don't touch me, because if you do, i will take your hand, fall to my knees, and beg you to run away with me again again again. i will ask and you will decline, and we will both hate me for voicing the question in the first place; that is how we began and that is how we ended, how we will always end.

now it is crowley who keeps his hands in his pockets, behind his back, leaning away form aziraphale whenever they get too close, turning his head and fleeing into the cracks in his mind no one except himself can get into.

for centuries, crowley came back to him. every. single. time. it was him who returned, who grovelled, who apologized, who bottled up his anger and hurt and disappointment so he could throw himself between aziraphale and whatever danger they were facing.

he can't do it again, don't touch me, because this time he would sacrifice himself completely and give his entire existence for him, or whatever is left of it, anyway.

don't touch me, he prays, the same three words over and over. please, stay away, don't come closer, don't love me, not now, not after everything.

don't touch me, when all he wants is to open his arms and disappear into the embrace of the only real home he has ever known.

i love you don't touch me

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #idk if you can call this writing #falls on the line i think #anyway #im having an emotional time and im procrastinating my pirate pain

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

REWATCHING GO S1, LIVE PLAY-BY-PLAY OF DOOMSDAY WAHOO

HELLO MAGGOTS REWATCHING SEASON 1 BECAUSE THE FIRST TIME WAS A KIDNAPPING CHAOTIC MESS. EPISODE ONE HERE GOES. I DON'T REMEMBER A LOT OF DETAILS BUT YES.

Opening scene and Earth's got vibe-checked by God and I've been gaslit about the dinosaurs

GARDEN OF EDEEEEEN wow his first appearance and Aziraphale's already so prissy and flustered might fuck around and fall in love with him idk

I finally understand who these mf's are hi Hastur and Ligur you're not zombies after all

FOR FUCK'S SAKE SECOND SCENE CROWLEY'S BEEN IN AND SHE WALKED IN, SERVED HIPS HAIR AND CUNT, AND THEN MANAGED TO TALK HER AWAY INTO A PROBLEM

LIKE GENUINELY SHE COMES AND SASHAYS WITH HER HAIR AND SAYS TIMES ARE CHANGING AND HEAD OFFICE LOVES ME AND JUST INSTANTLY HASTUR AND LIGUR USE HER WORDS AGAINST HER

idk sister mary loquacious is kinda doing it for me rn with that satanic nun's habit and losergirl energy

third crowley scene and he's misplaced THE LITERALLY GODDAMNED ANTICHRIST because he made small talk with a bloke outside without checking for details

mmmmhm yes sister mary wink again your bitchless decisions are sexy y'know what i mean

Gabriel feels like his brain was eviscerated and replaced with one of those youtuber's paid course promos at the end of their how to change your life in 45 days: three simple mindset shifts video

so THIS IS WHY EVERYONE KEEPS SAYING PAVLOVIAN IN THIS FANDOM IT'S BECAUSE OF DUCKS of course it's because of ducks

mmmhm yes sure crepes French revolu--Crowley stop eye-fucking Aziraphale you're making everyone at the Ritz horny

Aziraphale don't moan into your food man you can't take these two anywhere

Crowley thanking the driver for slowing down is everything to me

And they're drunk hu-fucking-zzah good thing we'll have 11 year olds saving the world coz these fuckers sure ain't doing shit

OH MY GOD HE WAS TRYING TO SAY BOUILLABAISSE I JUST REALISED. I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST MAKING KISSY FACES AT AZIRAPHALE I'M NOT OK-

What Aziraphale was doing back was definitely kissy faces though that mfer wasn't even trying to say bouillabaisse when Crowley said what sounded suspiciously like baby

kissy kissy from lil miss prissy [i would have made such a great high school bully shame i had no inclinations that way]

SORRY WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT SOBERING UP EXCUSE ME THE FANFICS MADE IT SOUND LIKE IT WAS A CLICK AND THEY'RE SUDDENLY NORMAL WHY IS THE ALCOHOL REFILLING

oop nun down nun down

i want ya see a wile ya thwart amirite on a t-shirt

"actually i encourage humans to-" just say you're a lazy bitch azi we love you

love crowley fake-manipulating azi into helping like azi wants to be manipulated y'know so it's not technically his fault he was wiled over or whatever and they're both just such ENABLERS

not azi going SOFT at being godfathers with crowley

NOT BROTHER FRANCIS PLEASE NO FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED AZI WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS PLEASE

WARLOCKKKKK I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

HNNNG MICHAEL SHEEN HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

why is nanny ashtoreth so seductive with that of course dear is it just crowley's inherent disastergirl sex appeal

HALF PONYTAIL CROWLEY I AM A FUCKING SLUT FOR HALF PONYTAIL

GASLIGHTING HEAVEN AND HELL THAT'S MY BABYGIRLS

erIC THE DISPOSABLE DEMON I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COME IN S1 well not come i hope unless being eaten by a hellho--nope

ANGEL CROWLEY SAID ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL

CROWLEY TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ABOUT KILLING BEFORE GETTING ANNOYED

waiter crOWLEY OUTFIT I CANNOT BE NORMAL AFTER THE WEDDING DRESS DESIGNING ABOUT THIS COSTUME

FOOLS WRONG BOY YOU FOOLS IM DEAD

DOG IS UNIRONICALLY SO CUTE EVEN BEFORE IT GOES SMOL

gonna give my roxie a kissy brb she's my angel and all this dog talk makes me miss her (she's a few feet away under the bed)

i asked her for a kissy and she crawled out and gave me a kiss i love her

DOGGGGG ADAMMM

...roxie's crying to be taken downstairs it's nearly 2 am this is on me for waking her up i crowley'd myself fml

EYYYYY WELCOME TO THE END TIMES don't mind me I'll have to take roxie down yes I know maggots I'm crowley-coded I KNOW THAT I'M A BLOODY DISASTER BYEEEEEEEE

#good omens mascot #good omens #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #good omens fandom #good omens season 1 #in the beginning #WAHOO #OK GTG TAKE MY DOG DOWNSTAIRS AT 1:45 IN THE MORNING #THE CROWLEY LIFE #IT'S HARD WORK BEING THE RESIDENT DISASTER #BUT SOMEONE'S GOTTA DO IT