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#aziraphale never cleans
canarybell · 4 months
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Stumbled upon another "Crowley is always the one saving Aziraphale, when will Aziraphale save Crowley for a change?" post.
And my only question was, did I just Imagine these moments or what?....
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ourtubahero-blog · 8 months
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That smile is what I live for. Find yourself a person who looks at you the way Michael looks at David.
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ineffablefool · 6 months
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Hope youse guys are ready for a little human AU one-shot which I started last Halloween and finally wrote the ending to last night! Because you're getting one Monday.
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analyzing some images (for fun)
so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)
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everything under the cut !
unique traits
aziraphale:
1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm
2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr
3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)
4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.
5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
crowley:
1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧
2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3
3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT
4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it
5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞
6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH
similarities
mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….
1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos
2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….
3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….
4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever
5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃
6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,
okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔
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bluberryfields · 8 months
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This is what happens when you're raised by TV and trained in literary analysis
Beyond the crushing heartbreak of that finale, one thing in particular has stuck with me when I look at it in the context of S2 as a whole.
He lays out their relationship, "We're a team, a group. A group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't."
He then turns his head away and says, "I mean, the last few years, not really."
He pauses here, facing the interior of the bookshop. Really looks it up and down.
Turns back, "And I would like to spend" before choking on his words and looks toward the window. He can't finish saying something like "And I would like to spend eternity with you" because that's too much, too fast, for both of them.
But it's that "last few years" bit that has firmly lodged itself in my very broken brain.
According to Gaiman, it's been "a few years" since the end of Season 1. Armageddon has been averted. Heaven and Hell have reluctantly retreated. Crowley and Aziraphale have been effectively cut loose from their "sides," leaving them to form their own side.
So at the start of Season 2, we get a glimpse of the “fragile existence” they have carved out for themselves. To me, the biggest difference that we see is how they exist together in front of others. Going to the coffee shop, the pub, and the other shops along the street that Aziraphale has lived on for over 200 years. And don’t forget how they act in front of Nina, Maggie, and sweet, dim Muriel.
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At the coffee shop, Aziraphale stammers a bit when Nina asks who Crowley is, but he still seems to have affection in his voice when he says, "We go back a long time."
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Compared to Shakespearian "He's not my friend! We've never met before. We don't know each other!" panic, this is an incredible difference.
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Of course, each time, Crowley is cool and cheeky and does nothing to indicate that they aren't a pair. Though, of course, he does deny it when Nina asks about Aziraphale being his side piece. “He’s not my bit on the side! He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side.” And refers to him as an “Angel [swallows]I know.”
When they go the pub, Crowley's joy at doing something together in public that they do not normally do is super cute, including his cheeky order for Aziraphale's sherry. Then, when bringing the drinks over to the socially trapped Aziraphale, he greets Mr. Brown with a truly adorable, "Hello" and a signature DT smile. Then upon hearing how “excited” Mr. Fell is to host the meeting, he looks down and says, “Oh? You astonish me.” while Aziraphale sips his sherry and squirms.
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We also watch as Crowley follows Aziraphale as he goes to each shop and talks to the owners about the meeting/secret ball. In theory, Crowley has no reason to tag along, and he certainly doesn’t help sway anyone who doesn’t want to/can’t go. He goofs around at the magic shop. He splays out on the bench, chin on hand, looking for all the world a husband waiting for his wife to pick out a dress at the department store. They are so married it’s ridiculous.
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Finally, their behavior in front of Muriel while inside their sanctuary. Crowley sits on the arm of Aziraphale’s chair, somehow looking supremely comfortable on the old-fashioned furniture. He folds up those gloriously long limbs and presses himself as close as possible.
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He smiles and plays along with Aziraphale’s coaching of Muriel in her disguise. Calls him Angel and asks to speak in private. And at the end, during the awful wait while Aziraphale talks with The Metatron, Crowley cleans up the shop and tells Muriel that he and Aziraphale will need some “us” time after all this. No beating around the bush. 
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Without oversight, they can be openly together and happy. But Heaven just can’t let that happen. 
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halemerry · 9 months
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I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!
I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.
Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.
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Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.
Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.
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Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.
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He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.
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Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.
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Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.
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Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.
We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.
The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.
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Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.
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Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.
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Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.
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At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.
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Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.
It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.
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Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'
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Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.
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"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.
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Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.
Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.
Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.
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Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.
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The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.
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His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.
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Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.
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Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.
Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.
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The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.
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He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.
Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.
For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).
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The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.
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The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.
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As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.
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So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.
There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.
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wilyserpentofeden · 8 months
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Has anyone ever addressed in fanfic the fact that Crowley's snakeskin boots are implied to not be boots at all but just his weird little snake feet made to look like boots. Like there has to be some fic where Aziraphale and Crowley finally confess to each other, start making out sloppy style, taking off clothes etc. etc. and theyre about to end up in bed together but Aziraphale stops and it's like
"Hold on, hold on just a moment, Crowley. Your shoes?"
"Hm?"
"Your shoes. Please don't tell me you intend to wear shoes in my bed, I've just cleaned the sheets."
"Oh, half-naked ready for a quick shag and we're worried about clean sheets, are we, angel?"
"Just please, take off your shoes."
"...I can't."
"You can't? I suppose it goes against your demonic nature to avoid tracking dirt all over my clean furniture?"
"My place is cleaner than yours."
"Not the point. Shoes, please."
"They're not shoes!"
"Oh, don't be so pedantic- your boots, then!"
"They're my feet!"
"...pardon?"
"My feet."
"...good Lord. Even the heel?"
"Yup."
"And you've never thought to... shape them more like actual feet? To wear proper shoes?"
"Are we going to have sex or not."
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uccmd · 9 months
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THE LIST of domestic things about Crowley and Aziraphale during S2 as my free therapy session:
The apology dance
Crowley knows why exactly Aziraphale might call him (the list consists of only three reasons) and can understand which is relevant at the moment by Azi's voice
Crowley doesn't wear his glasses in the bookshop
Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy
"Ourselves"
"Do you need a lift somewhere?"
Them discussing their favorite romantic tropes like it've never happened to them
Crowley casually ordering the drink Aziraphale asked for
Crowley being absolutely done with everything but still managing to help Aziraphale every way possible participating in his investigation and making sure they're not killed
"OUR car"
Crowley actually letting Aziraphale to drive the Bentley!!!
They have a room where they discuss their questions and problems (like with the Gabriel's and Muriel's visits)
Crowley sitting on the arm of Aziraphale's armchair
"Good job" "You really think so?"
Aziraphale calling Crowley right away to tell him more about the clue and what he found out (aka searching for his praise)
Crowley supporting Aziraphale while he performs his little handy magic tricks
Aziraphale slowly getting more comfortable with calling Crowley his friend (aka "we go back in a long time" and etc)
"A little us time"
Them casually touching each other
Dancing while talking and talking while dancing
Crowley not letting other people buy or take Aziraphale's books while he is out of bookshop
Crowley trying to communicate with Gabriel after Aziraphale advices him to do so
Crowley cleaning up the bookshop while Aziraphale is on a walk with Metatron (he knows this place so well + «stress-cleaning» @sgam76 )
Aziraphale asking Crowley to be his assistant in the lethal magic trick and letting Crowley point the muzzle of a loaded gun at him when they can't use miracles
Crowley's hands shaking because his first shot ever was about to be made while he was pointing a gun at Aziraphale but when he just got himself together because fuck him if he will ever hurt his angel
Crowley trusting Aziraphale because he asked
Crowley waiting for Aziraphale to change his mind in the end until the very last moment
Aziraphale complimenting Crowley's work during The Begging
Aziraphale's attempt to put his hand on Crowley's shoulder during the kiss because he wanted them to be closer to each other
Aziraphale has a diary with a description of his every meeting with Crowley (as i suppose)
"But you like waiting inside"
How literally every character made a remark about their relationship being a little bit more than just friendship and how they're flustered by those comments
"I am, but rescuing me makes him so happy"
«Crowley going “NGK!” when Azi briefly corners him in the pub with a hand on his chest» @babbeldumpsterfire
"If any harm goes to Aziraphale-"
«“we both get PLENTY of use out of it” regarding the bookshop» @nightgoodomens
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abzania · 7 months
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I wanna talk about how sweet Crowley is in season 2.
Not only in the gentle way he says, "Is it something I can help you with?" but in the way he cares for Aziraphale, both directly and in the background.
It's the way he jumps in harms way to protect Aziraphale, not because he can't protect himself, but because it makes both of them happy. It's the way he begins to move his plants into the shop before even saying yes to Aziraphale taking the Bentley. The way he cleans up after the ball. The way he yells at the demons. The way he infultrates Heaven. The way he silently encourages Aziraphale and gives him what he needs, despite seemingly being aggravated by it. He would never truly mock Aziraphale for being who he is. Because he loves Aziraphale wholly and completely. Both as an angel and as he is on Earth, on their side.
It's the way he holds on desperately to Aziraphale's lapel, hoping his love was enough. The way he stumbles over his confession and gets emotional at the prospect of losing him. The way he doesn't leave. The way he watches Aziraphale enter the elevator, giving him every chance to turn back and undo his mistake.
There's something so genuine about the way Crowley loves Aziraphale. It's the same love he shows the universe in the first episode. The love that has gradually gravitated to Aziraphale, the person who has become both his light and the center of his entire world. It's beautiful.
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indigovigilance · 7 months
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Angel Pinky Rings
I'm going to get strangely obsessed with finger jewelry for a moment.
Please do not ask Neil Gaiman to confirm or deny.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale doesn't have a ring:
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...then after the Beginning, he does:
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...which he wears continuously for the rest of the story:
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Archangel Michael
doesn't have a ring in Book of Job:
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and then they do:
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Uriel does:
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...even Saraqael does:
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...and Sandolphon:
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...but not the Supreme Archangel
not in Book of Job:
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and neither before Armageddidn't:
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nor after:
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...and not the 37th Order Scrivener:
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Originally I thought the rings might denote rank, but Gabriel not having a ring throws a wrench in that.
Left vs. Right
Every angel that wears a ring wears it on their left hand (everyone except Saraqael wears it on their pinky, who wears it on their ring finger) except for Aziraphale, who consistently wears his pinky ring on his right hand. Furthermore, the style of each ring appears to be unique; we don't usually get a very good look at them (or at least I don't, I have kind of crappy hardware) but the differing styles seem to be meaningful to the individual. Putting it on the left may indicate that it has a negative connotation; the fact that Aziraphale's ring is on the right sets him apart.
Protecting the Ring
Additionally, all the angels that have rings, when they fold their hands, tend to cover up their ring-bearing hand, almost protectively:
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Semi-Rational Theory
The rings are vessels of memory: they are only worn by angels who have transgressed against God's will, and are worn forever after as a symbol of the covenant made between the Creator and the Servant. They dump the memories of their transgressions into the ring so that their minds are made clean, but carry the mark of their prior sin with them for the rest of time. Much like a rainbow, it serves as a promise that the transgressor will never transgress again. The angels protect it because, consciously or not, they know that this ring contains a part of themselves, and it is both precious and shameful.
Absolutely Irrational Theory
Aziraphale wears his ring on his right hand because it doesn't fit on his left. That's because it's not actually his ring; it is Angel!Crowley's, and he is keeping it safe for them. Crowley and/or Aziraphale might not even know anymore that that is what it is, but by some pact between them made before the Fall, it is in Aziraphale's stewardship to keep safe until such time as Crowley can safely have his memories restored.
Again: Please do not ask Neil Gaiman to confirm or deny.
EDIT: MAGGIE HAS A PINKIE RING
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This bish is sus AF
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If you would like to reblog, please reblog from this repost with additional content and references.
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To read more of my original content on erasure theory:
Jimbriel, Satan, the Book of Life, and what it means for Crowley
The Erasure of Human!Metatron
Baraqiel and Azazel
or, my first and my most popular post to date:
A Nightingale Sang in 1941
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hikarry · 4 months
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You know who loves casinos? Crowley. Because he has a lot of luck in the game. Luck of the devil and all that
Every time he is (lowkey) forced to go to America, even if he is just supposed to pop up into Mississippi, he eventually finds his way to Vegas and spends at least a week there. Not only is it an excuse to wear his best clothes and look his best, but hey, Vegas is a pool of sin. Greed. Lust. Envy. Easy ass temptations. It's his element
At some point in time, while in Vegas, he comes across the angel. It was unexpected, surely, but a nice surprise nonetheless. As an angel, Crowley would have thought Aziraphale would stay as far away from places like these as possible not to get tainted by all the sins, and yet, here he is.
"Angel." Crowley approaches him from behind, leaning on the bar next to him.
"Crowley." Aziraphale answers, not looking up from his wine glass.
"Never thought I would find you in the Bellagio. Or Vegas in general, for that matter."
"And why is that?"
"Oh, you know, all the sin. Everywhere you look. Must feel like an itch to your..." He wiggles his fingers. "...angelic senses. Popped around to bless some poor, corrupted soul?"
Aziraphale finally looks up, offering him a smile.
"If you must know, I'm on vacation."
Crowley lifts an eyebrow over his sunglasses.
"Vacation?"
"Indeed." Aziraphale turns around on his seat, so he is not facing the bar anymore, but the populace in general. "Wanted to know what all the fuss about this place was about."
Crowley mimics him, leaning both his elbows on the bar, watching the people around the hotel.
"And? What's the verdict?"
The angel sighs, looking up at him again, as Crowley looks down at him as well.
"I've mostly been watching the live shows, honestly. Some are good, most are mediocre. I've been waiting for the right time to try one of the casinos."
"And what, exactly, is the definition of 'right time'?" Aziraphale opens a slow bastardly smile in his direction, lifting an eyebrow. "Oh." Crowley smiles back, slightly leaning in his direction. "Angel, you been waiting for me. What a gentleman."
Aziraphale chuckles and gets up from his seat, running his hands down his clothes.
"I could feel your presence as soon as I stepped out of the airplane, my dear."
"And what best way to fall into sin than with the devil himself at your side, is it?" Crowley offers him his arm, but Aziraphale bats it away playfully.
"Don't say it like that. I'm merely curious as to why humans seem to enjoy the dangers of gambling so much." He gestures towards the entrance of the casino. "Shall I tempt you into keeping me company?"
The demon snorts, giving the angel a final once over, before offering him a cocky smile and setting his hand on the angel's lower back, guiding him to the casino.
"Aren't you a box full of surprises." He leans closer and whispers on Aziraphale's ear before straightening himself and looking for some avaliable space at a Russian Roulette.
Alas, Crowley is certainly lucky at the game, but so is Aziraphale, even though he wouldn't call it luck. He would say "it's simple strategy, dear boy!"
They play many games through the night, but they spend most of their time at the poker table. Crowley's poker face is good. It comes with the job description. And he's got some extra points because of the sunglasses. But, surprisingly so, so is Aziraphale's. He is so good, in fact, that they stop playing as adversaries and form a team. With 6000 years under their belt of being secretive, they read each other's subtle signs easily and clean the tables like a very efficient money vacuum. They work so good together they fall into suspicious of cheating and, before they are thrown out, they collect the money and leave of their own accord, right in the direction of the bar where they get absolutely plastered.
"Anyway, until when are you staying? If given two more days I'm sure we can clean the whole of Vegas!"
Aziraphale snorts into his whiskey.
"I don't know, my dear. I think I've had excitement enough for the next year."
"Aww no!" Crowley fully tuns towards Aziraphale, laying his hand on his shoulder. "Cmon, we killed it! We could leave this place multimillionaires!"
"You know we, technically, already are, dear boy. We can literally make money out of the aether."
Crowley rolls his eyes, giving Aziraphale's shoulder a little push.
"It's the principle of the thing. Money won, not made. It has a whole other thrill."
"Mmh." The angel stays in silence for a couple of moments, looking at his glass, until he looks up at the demon. "Where are you staying?"
"Here. You?"
"Four Seasons. Do you want to have breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"At the Four Seasons?" Aziraphale nods while Crowley takes a sip of his glass. "Meet you at 9?"
"At 9."
They did meet, indeed. And had breakfast together. And lunch. And dinner. And when Aziraphale was supposed to stay for only 2 more days, he expanded his stay to 4 more days to leave on the same day as Crowley.
I don't need to say they spent the rest of the days glued to each other. Crowley even changed his stay from the Bellagio to the Four Seasons to be more "efficient", or so he says.
They explored the whole Strip and cleaned every casino they set foot in. Aziraphale made a schedule with all the live shows he wanted to watch and he dragged Crowley up and down the Strip to watch all of them and then give a very detailed review to a very drunk Crowley in his hotel room at the end of the day (aka never before 6am).
After the Second Coming, already living together in the cottage, Crowley will randomly remember that week and ask Aziraphale if he wants to go on a quick vacation and give Vegas a second spin. Aziraphale packs his bags in 35 minutes.
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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months
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Helping Hand
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Crowley x GN!Reader
(use of female anatomy and the term 'good girl')
NSFW 18+ ONLY / Requests are: OPEN
Summary: Crowley catches you reading a NSFW novel and gives you a helping hand.
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When Aizraphale had gone away for a few days out to the country on a hunt for some sort of first edition book he was desperate for, you’d not thought much of it. Aziraphale was always darting off here and there for rare books or conferences he thought might be interesting. He was always after the next bit of knowledge, or the next great novel. 
He had to go further this time, and had let both you and Crowley know that he was going to be a couple days. The pair had always been respectful towards you, and the three of you were good friends.
You’d offered to look after the Bookshop for him while it was gone. Aziraphale had not wanted to put you out and promised to pick you up something while he was gone if he found something you might like as a thank you. It wasn’t necessary, but appreciated none the less. 
And besides, you loved the Bookshop. It was homely and comforting- and the energy the Bookshop seemed to radiate felt, just… so safe. It was hard to express, but the point was: you loved to be at the Bookshop, and there was no way you were going to pass up a chance to be able to stay there for a week or with all those books. So many things to read, and if you didn’t make a start on your to-read list, you were afraid you’d never catch up. 
Which is exactly how you found yourself in the position you were in now. Given how prone to distraction Aziraphale was, you’d been able to tell upon receiving the keys and Aziraphale shuffling off in the direction of Crowley and his Bentley who were parked across the street ready to take him to the train station- that Aziraphale had not had a chance to give the shop a once over in quite some time. 
You’d started off with a quick vacuum, picking up bits and pieces here and there to move out of the pathway you were cleaning. And, of course- you knocked into a precarious pile of books that went tumbling to the floor. One of which caught you in the calf, causing you to bark out a curse before turning the vacuum off in a huff and picking up the offending book. 
“Aziraphale,” you tutted, giving the cover a quick look over before turning it over to read the back. “Wouldn’t have picked you for a purveyor of cliterature.” You chuckle to yourself at the word, having seen it on social media somewhere before and absolutely loving it. Makes you laugh every single time. 
You read over the back one more time, brow arching at the interesting themes presented in the book. Even for you, this was… something else. 
Purely for curiosity's sake, you opened up the novel to give it a quick little read. Just to see what it was about. It was about twelve pages in before the first smut scene, and you had to wonder to yourself if this was only the first- surely it could only go downhill from here. The entire book couldn’t be this good, could it? 
It didn’t take you long to find out. By the third chapter you were biting your lip- cleaning forgotten. Reading about the main protagonist being eaten out by Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome as if Mr. TD&H might die if she didn’t cum right then and there was, well, fucking hot. You’d have to make a point to look up the author later and see if they had any other books. Your question had been about why Aziraphale had this in his shop when it didn’t match with anything of his usual style, but that question was completely forgotten in the haze of cocks and fingering in the page-turner you held in front of you. 
“Bit of light reading?” Crowley peers over your shoulder to read a few lines. “Mm- doesn’t seem your style.” 
The voice snaps you out of the paragraph where the main character is currently enjoying something rather phallic from behind, and a sucking vibrator on their clit. The book falls from your hands and lands with an incriminating thud onto the floor.
“Oh, fuck- Crowley- uh, what are you doing here?” You exclaim, whirling around and pressing yourself into the bookcase in fright. The Demon in question drags his gaze up from the floor to your reddened cheeks and finally to your eyes. His lips are curled in a knowing smirk, and you clock the way his snake-eyes dilate just a little. “You scared the shit out of me!” 
You raise a hand to slap him on the arm. He weathers the hit with a chuckle and a mocking pout. “Aww, darling- weren’t expecting me back so soon, is that it?” You splutter out a series of garbled sounds before he steps right into your space and noses by your ear. 
“Imagine my surprise,” he says, voice low and dangerous, “when I come back from dropping our favourite Angel off at the station- to find the smell of sin in the air.” His tongue darts up to lick the shell of your ear, and you let out a real, honest-to-God whimper.
“In the Bookshop, no less,” he continues in a dark whisper. “Such a Heavenly place, I would have thought.” He punctuates the sentence with a bite to your ear lobe and your eyes flutter closed with pleasure. 
“Mm- there it is,” he chuckles, pulling away to look over your flushed cheeks and hooded eyes. “Dunno if you knew this, darling- but given that I am, in fact, a Demon. Means I can do things. Great things. Interesting things.” He brushes a warm finger down your cheek to wrap around your throat lightly. You knew, of course that Aziraphale and Crowley weren’t human, but you’d also never pried too far for answers.
“One of the more interesting things,” he continues darkly, fingers pressing just a tiny bit tighter. “Is, well- I can sense sin. Sweet feeling, leaves tingles in the spine. If I’m attuned enough, I can even smell it.” 
His fingers suddenly press harder and your head hits the bookshelf softly. You see his nostrils flare and choke out a whimper. 
“Mm- I can sense how much you like that, Pet. Can smell it off you. Your sin…” he trails off thoughtfully, letting his fingers soften so you can suck a breath in. “Mm, smells like peaches and cream.” 
“Now,” he says, letting go and leaning down to pick up the discarded book. “Tell me now if you don’t want this to go any further.” 
You don’t know how to respond, and so therefore give him a soft nod. It’s all you can bear to do right now, though if you knew the plans Crowley had for you, you may have said no. Who were you kidding, you’d never say no to Crowley for anything he desired. 
“Mm- good. Here, take this.” Crowley hands you the book and steps back into your personal space, raking a hand up your side and up to pull on your hair softly. “And read it.” 
“You want me to… what?” You ask in a whisper. 
“Read. It.” 
You look between him and the book a couple of times before shaking your head. How embarrassing, you did not want to read the things that were in that book aloud to him. And what for? So he could revel in your embarrassment? Yeah, you didn’t think so. 
“No?” He asks, arching a brow. “Oh, but darling, I asked so nicely. I won’t do it again.”
You feel yourself swallow thickly. And by the way his grin widens just a little, you know he notices it too. You pull the book up with one hand and flick open to a random page. Crowley makes a pleased sound. He lets go of your hair and uses one hand to grab your hip and the other plays across your lower tummy under your shirt, brushing the skin with feather light touches. He gives you a look to say ‘well get on with it, then.’ 
“Uh,” you stutter out as his forefinger trails circles above the waistband of your underwear. “His breath, smelling of mint brushes over her skin-” Crowley’s hand on your hip rolls down to your knee before hiking your leg over his, effectively pinning your legs apart but also pushes you back against the bookcase. Your breath hitches and his fingers stop moving.
“Go on,” he teases, mouthing at the side of your throat.
“And, he, uh, his tongue licks a stripe down her abdomen. With her-” you avert your eyes and Crowley tuts, trailing his fingers closer to your cunt. You try again. “With her tits heaving from heavy breaths, his tongue finds her clit- oh-” 
Crowley’s forefinger reaches your own clitoris, and he chuckles mockingly into your throat at the choked off moan that spills from your mouth. He trails soft circles around with his fingers, testing the pleasure receptors and making sure it’s not too much for you. When you sink back against the bookcase, he lets out a disapproving grunt before grinding out an unappeased “that doesn’t sound like reading, Pet.” 
You let out a breathy chuckle and Crowley clicks his tongue, rubbing his fingers just a little faster. He moves fast enough to start building you up, your hips bucking off the bookcase and towards him. His knee pressing you into the position he wants you in moves in a little closer, the muscles in your leg burning as it pulls taut over his leg.
“Right- what happens next then?” He asks, two of his fingers sliding down past your clit to rub your folds, collecting the slick he finds there. “Pretty sure you were saying something about clits and tongues?”
“Mm, oh, y-yeah,” you reply, swallowing thickly as those two fingers now rub around your hole teasingly. You can feel yourself squeezing- almost like you were trying to suck his fingers inside yourself. “-F-finds her clit- he licks against her sensitive-mmmh, fuck-” 
Crowley’s fingers slam inside without warning, twisting and curling behind your clit just exactly where you needed it. He laughs, and stops moving, waiting for you to continue. 
“-b-bundle of nerves. She pulls at his hair, and- oh, ah- he groans in satisfaction,” your head drops back as he starts to fuck his fingers into you in earnest. You whine as he hits a particularly good spot and bites down lightly on the join of your neck and shoulder. “His tongue presses down from her clit to- sh-shit, fuck, Crowley- to her entrance.” 
The Demon in question pushes a third finger inside you, adjusting his fingers so that his thumb could bump against your clit with every push inside. Your leg over his begins to jerk with the pleasure- little spasms that you couldn’t control even if you wanted to. Your fingers were going white with your grip on the novel. 
His fingers spread out and he rubs them against your inner walls, panting in your ear about how fucking tight and wet you were. Your spare hand wrapped around his neck to hold on for balance, and the Demon had the nerve to mock you for it. 
“Aw, what’s the matter, Pet? Feels too good, huh? Gonna fall over if you don’t hold on?” To drive the point home he pistons his fingers in and out mercilessly, delighting in the shriek of pleasure that tears out of you. “Mm, that’s better, darling. Don’t hold back for me.” 
You let the noises out easier after that, book almost forgotten in your grip. You’re sure there must be fingerprints imprinted into the cover after this. You felt bad about it, sure- but you could always just buy Aziraphale another copy later. Crowley lets you enjoy yourself for another minute or two, working you up closer to the edge, thumb rubbing against your clit just enough to send jolts of pleasure up your spine.
And just as you start to reach that peak, he slows down. You crack your eyes open- not even having realised they’d closed, and groan in frustration. He grins that charming, evil smile at you, and flicks his gaze towards the novel. “Didn’t tell you to stop reading, did I?” 
“N-no, fuck- you will be the death of me,” you grind out, wiggling your hips on his fingers in the hopes it might spur him back into action. You look over to the novel, picking a sentence and continuing on. “With his t-tongue exploring her hole, she kn-knew she wouldn’t last long.”
Crowley let out a thoughtful sound, changing the pace and position again to rub against your g-spot. “Greedy thing,” he laughs out quietly, pressing his hips closer against yours so you could feel his dick against you. You widened the gap between your legs as much as you could given the fact that one was already spread out and over his taut leg. “Mm- good girl,” he growls.
“He knew s-she was close, and- oh, fuck, Crowley, I’m-” the demon grunted in acknowledgement, speeding up. “F-fuck- brought his fingers up to rub ah-against her- ngh- clit.” 
You were so close and determined to see this through. You knew if you stopped reading, he would move the finish line for you, and so despite the fact you were moments from cumming, you found the focus to continue with the novel. 
“W-with a cry, sh-she, oh-hoh, fuck- Crowley- she exploded around-d him,” a high pitched whine broke free of you, and he chuckled. “H-her pleas-ure rocked thr-through her in waves, but h-he did not let up,” you read between gasps of breath. 
“Un-until she pushed h-him away, sat-isfied and sated-d- oh, oh fuck me, Crowley, I’m gonna-” 
“Fuck, that’s it, Pet. Cum for me,” Crowley growls darkly, eyes boring heated holes through your skin, cock grinding up against your thigh- wherever he can get any friction. 
He doesn’t even get through the sentence before you’re over that finishing line, book dropping to the floor so you can hold onto his shoulder for purchase. Your head slams back against the bookcase, sending a few novels tumbling down to the floor to join the first. Your leg spasms and dark moans and sharp gasps fill the Bookshop.
Crowley fucks you through it, fingers never ceasing until you- like the character the book, are trying desperately to get him to slow down, the overstimulation making you whimper and moan. 
The Demon laughs, and gives your cunt a little slap before pulling his hand out and bringing them up to the light coming in through the window. His eyes flit over the slick he sees there, admiring how wet you were for him. When he’s done, he sucks them clean, forked tongue coming out to play. 
He doesn’t fail to notice the way your gaze heats at the sight. He might have to store that one away for another time, he rather thinks.
Slowly, he lets your leg down- immediately filling the space with his hips rubbing into your own. You whine at the burn in your muscles and he laughs mockingly. Crowley grinds once, twice more before he’s groaning into your shoulder and cumming ribbons in his pants. 
His mouth drops open, and he rubs himself up against you to ride out the high. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and you playfully tug at his hair, grinning at the way he lets out an honest-to-God moan. You think you might lock that away for future use.
Once he’s come down, he pulls a miracle up from below, cleaning himself up. He noses at your neck and pulls you in close. 
“I think,” he says quietly, “we ought to make use of the spare room and take a quick nap, what do you say?” 
You smile and press a kiss to his jaw, nodding in agreement. He humms contentedly and steps away from you to allow you to lead the way. You pick up the couple of novels that had fallen to the floor and put them away before taking him to the spare bedroom, the both of you collapsing down into the bed. 
It doesn’t take long before Crowley is snoring softly, and you take the chance to snuggle up to him, watching the dust in the sunrays in the window. 
Your pussy clenches as you think over the events of the last half hour, and you find yourself daydreaming about all the other ways you want Crowley to fuck you. 
Next time, maybe you’d have to have him up against the bookcases and mewling under your touch. 
Yeah, you rather liked the sound of that.
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ourtubahero-blog · 8 months
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Michael is too precious for this world.
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nightgoodomens · 5 months
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Heaven was going to flood London, and Aziraphale was watching it from Heaven anxiously because his most beloved memories were there.
His Bookshop would survive, they told him. They thought that was all he cared about.
But he was thinking of the parks which he walked through with Crowley, where they chatted and laughed. He thought of Ritz where they enjoyed food and drinks and each other’s company. He thought of Mayfair where Crowley’s flat was. He thought of the beloved Bentley that would soon end up deep underneath the water.
He thought of all the innocent lives. All the friendly faces of just the people he knew in Soho. Of all the millions he’s never spoke to.
But most of all he thought of Crowley.
Metatron said the flooding would be gradual. People were told on the News how the weather would bring storms and to leave London. An Apocalypse they called it.
Some left. It was a horrifying panic and thousands of people running, cars on standstill because of miles and miles of traffic.
The Devil was blamed. Just as Heaven hoped.
Soho people didn’t run.
Of course they didn’t, Aziraphale thought, such communities didn’t leave, they gathered to protect their home.
He watched Crowley staying with them. Moving bags of sand with Bentley, urging people to take everything precious to them upstairs, join their friends in the flats right at the top. He was carrying anti flooding items with all the other humans. One of them.
He saw all of them locking up the Bookshop, covering windows, throwing bags of sand around it to protect it.
He saw Nina making hot drinks and kids carrying small bottles of water to tired humans. He saw everyone eating together on the street, laughing, and in such moments anxiousness was overtaken by love and determination.
He saw Maggie carrying her music upstairs and playing it from the rooftop. Others were shouting out requests. Sometimes people were dancing. Their little breaks were for pretending nothing was happening.
When the rain came, when the water started flooding everything, most were hiding inside, right at the top. He saw Crowley and a few others struggling through the water, getting to a few who did not manage to get home on time. The rain was relentless and the wind blinding. They were falling into the water, not seeing what was underneath it.
He saw Bentley on a rooftop and allowed himself the smallest chuckle.
His hands had bruises on them from how he was squeezing them, nails digging into his skin. He told Crowley to run. Crowley never responded.
Crowley fell into the water at one point and Aziraphale froze, but another man was right there pulling him out. They were all running back indoors soon after, climbing on top of the cars to reach windows and be pulled in by others, realising there was nothing they could do anymore.
In the morning the sun shon again. People were on rooftops, dripping wet, exhausted but smiling. He saw Maggie drying Crowley’s hair with a towel, the Demon hissing at her as she innocently whispered what an Angel he was.
She had no idea it was Angels doing this to them.
When Heaven realised that Flood was not going to get rid of Humans, they stopped. Soon the water slowly lowered. The community was back on their legs, cleaning everything. Even more exhausted. But so proud of themselves. Even closer.
Aziraphale watched as Crowley dragged himself to the Bentley, after everything was over. Exhausted, rubbing his face once inside, nearly falling asleep right there.
But Crowley grabbed his phone first and seconds later Aziraphale heard a ping on his.
The text message was short.
Humans 1:0 Heaven
Aziraphale smiled. He’s never missed him more.
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vidavalor · 7 months
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It's really funny that Aziraphale didn't-- from the get go-- just miracle Gabriel some damn pants.
Instead, he was all well... hello, supreme archangel that my husband once said was beautiful... it does appear that you really have *no memory of who you were whatsoever and are just colossally hot and dumb* oh Lord, this is both terrifying and absolutely hilarious, wait 'til Crowley sees this... here, just drape yourself in my thin, tartan blanket, Jim... that's it, oh that's perfect actually, you look like I'm living out some Roman fantasy over here... just don't answer the door and stand there... wait, no, you need to be doing something... here, take this YELLOW. FEATHERED. duster and clean our books... oh, at this point I don't know if I'm trying to make Crowley jealous or amused or both or if after he gets over the shock, he's going to very into this and I don't really care which... ok, don't answer the door, I'll be right back with my demonic paramour who once asked me on a date around making fun of a statue of your dumb ass and who literally loathes you for trying to murder us and for being an all-around general prat and once he gets over the WTF anxiety fit he'll have and the fact that we need a plan for this disaster, I really think he's going to be very amused that it took me all of fourteen seconds to turn you into our domestic house boy... not actually, old chap, don't worry, we've evolved into a serial monogamy we don't really talk about at this point but one day, he will laugh very hard at this and I do so love to make him laugh...
*goes to coffee shop to explain that there's a bit of trouble and it's terrifying but it's also, at the same time, hilarious and just wait 'til Crowley sees who's playing tartan toga servant boy in the bookshop... whole bloody neighborhood now thinks (knows) he's the kinky old gay bookseller so might as well just lean into it... this'll top even making the Archangel Michael miracle me a bath towel, Crowley...*
Nina: Morning, Mr. Fell! Details, please, on the stark naked Don Draper that just walked up the street and hugged you hello in front of the entire neighborhood.
Crowley: YOU WUT
Aziraphale: Thanks a bunch, Nina. I never know what to get him for his birthday and now you've ruined it.
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avocado-writing · 9 months
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i hope u know im chewing on ur good omens work like a cat does with those matatabi sticks ,,,, ANYWAY do u mind writing an aziraphale x reader [gn] x crowley w a recurring fruit means love metaphor ? like sharing a lil clementine or getting ur hands all gross n sticky from cutting smthn open [cough cough a peach . i had 2 stick my fingers in one 2 separate it n get the pit out n it was ,,, mildly uncomfortable] n the other person sucks the juice off their fingers ,,,,,,,,, just very intimate n cute things like that :] thanx !!
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so I’m sorry this is less love as fruit and more uhhh lust as fruit please forgive me
Crowley x reader x Aziraphale (good omens)
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From his place sorting books he never intends to sell into one of his many already-cramped shelves, Aziraphale watches you in the break room. 
You’re waiting for the kettle to boil, eating an apple while you grab a mug and teabag. Even from here Aziraphale can hear the pop-hiss as you take a bite from the crisp skin. Your teeth sink into the flesh and juice rolls down your chin onto the counter. You wipe it away absent-mindedly with the back of your hand.  
You might be the one eating, but it’s Aziraphale who swallows. 
You lick your lips, thumbing the sweet stickiness from your face and sucking it clean. Aziraphale wonders what it tastes like.
He wonders if he could do it for you. 
🍎 
“Crowley, you want a bit of tangerine?”
Crowley looks up from where he’s been idly scrolling through his phone - tiktok! Credit where it’s due, hell did a great job on that one - right into your smiling face. He’s not much of an eater (that’s more Aziraphale’s speed) but your eagerness enraptures him. 
“Oh, go on then.”
It’s so human, to share a little bit of your food with someone. It shows you care about them; want them nourished. Crowley’s gaze falls to where your fingers begin to work the orange skin. 
There’s something entrancing about the way you work it. Something almost illicit. The juice dripping from you as your thumb accidentally slides its way through a segment. You curse quietly and work on the other half, your fingertips gliding across the folds of fruit. 
There’s something that trips from being suggestive into lewd. 
He’s glad when you finally manage to pass him a piece, because his mouth has gone utterly dry. 
🍊 
They find you in the shared kitchen, sucking the flesh from a mango. Your eyes dart up from the sticky mess you’ve made on your hands and face. 
“Sorry,” you mutter through your bite, “I promise I’ll clean up in a moment, just—”
You don’t get to finish because they descend upon you. 
Aziraphale licks it from your lips, moaning in the back of his throat at the combined taste of your sweetness. Crowley grabs your hand and takes your whole thumb into his mouth, tongue dancing around the soft pad. 
Their mouths don’t leave you for the next couple of hours. 
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