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spacechalk · 14 days

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Glass

After it was all over, Aziraphale sat on the edge of a bluff and let his feet hang over the side. Rivers and farmland stretched before him. In the distance he spotted a church crouched behind a copse of trees. His heel knocked loose a pebble. He watched it tumble into empty space and wondered what it would feel like to follow.

Behind him he heard the gentle rumble of an engine. The sound of a door slamming shut was muted, as was the crunch of boots on gravel as someone approached. He didn’t look around.

A wine bottle was thrust before his eyes. Automatically, he noted the vintage. He must have gone to some effort for this.

“Drink?”

Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley dropped beside him, sending another cascade of pebbles down the cliff. He produced two wine glasses and handed one to the angel.

Once the wine had generously been decanted, Crowley knocked his glass against Aziraphale’s with a bright ring that vibrated through his fingers.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” he said, taking a swig.

“Hmm,” Aziraphale murmured. He peered into his glass. He could see his reflection along the outer rim.

Crowley cleared his throat. “They underestimated you.” He hesitated, then made an aborted gesture with one hand. “I underestimated you.”

Aziraphale took a long pull from his glass.

Crowley planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphale’s eye. When the angel didn’t look up, he turned away, face etched with resignation. He kicked a heel against the cliff and watched dirt shower down.

Aziraphale took this opportunity to eye the demon’s profile.

“How does it work?” he asked.

Crowley looked over his shoulder. “How does what work?”

“No Heaven. No Hell.” The icy hand that had been stalking him the last few months seized his heart. “How do you know good from evil?” A dark void threatened to open up beneath his feet. If he put one foot wrong he would fall in and keep falling, forever. He struggled to breathe. “What if you can’t? What if there…isn’t? At all?”

Suddenly there was a hand on his arm. He could hear his breath harsh in his ears as he looked at it. He looked up into Crowley’s yellow eyes.

“It’s okay angel. Breathe.”

Aziraphale could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “The sheer – arrogance,” he murmured, “to think that I – ”

“Arrogant?” A strangled laugh struggled in the demon’s throat. “Aziraphale – you are the only person I met in all of Hell or Heaven who cared – at all – to even try to figure out what was right and wrong,” he said intently, every line of him leaning forward, eyes wide, trying to make him understand. “The arrogance to try? What about the arrogance of thinking you don’t have to?” His breath pulled rapidly in and out of his chest.

The tears Aziraphale had been fighting spilled over.

“I’m not sure this is going to be comforting but – I don’t think anyone knows for sure, certainly not me,” Crowley said. His grip on Aziraphale’s arm tightened. “I’m not sure that what the Almighty imparted in the garden was knowledge of good and evil so much that it was knowledge that everything is complicated and all of it matters so much. It deserves your conscience and your doubt. It deserves your best effort.”

He tilted his head, tried to catch Aziraphale’s eyes. “I am not worried about you at all,” he said, lips quirking in an attempt at a smile. “You, who gave your sword away at the very Beginning. You’ve always had a heart for these things.”

Aziraphale raised a hand to wipe his eyes and Crowley let go, turning to look out over the landscape below. Aziraphale immediately missed his grip; but he was still close, shoulders brushing together.

“’Sides,” Crowley said, aiming for nonchalance and falling staggeringly short, “I’ll still be here. It’s easier together, I think.”

Crowley looked out at the fields and Aziraphale looked at Crowley. He was swamped by the urge to put his head on Crowley’s shoulder and only just managed to resist it.

Aziraphale looked into his glass. “About what you said – in the bookshop –” he began.

Crowley flung up a hand to head him off. He drained the rest of his glass in one go. “We don’t need to talk about that,” he rasped.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Don’t we?”

Crowley shook his head emphatically. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I said anything. Or…” He hesitated, his eyes dropping to Aziraphale’s lips before careening away. “…did, anything. You don’t need to say…what you’re going to say. I promise I won’t do it again.” He sloppily crossed his heart and pushed himself to his feet.

Aziraphale listened to his footsteps crunching back toward the Bentley. A kind of calm anger poured in and began filling up his chest. His face set like stone. “That’s a shame,” he said out loud.

The footsteps paused. “What was that?”

“I said – ” Aziraphale pushed himself to his feet and turned around. Crowley stood halfway to the car, bottle and glass in one hand, keys in the other.

“I said,” he said, “it’s a shame that you will never again tell me that you love me; will never kiss me again.” He twisted his hands together, fingernails biting into skin. “I was rather hoping you would.”

Crowley stared at him.

Aziraphale moved forward until they were only inches apart. He held Crowley’s eyes.

Crowley hesitated for a long moment, searching his face. Finally he swayed forward, almost helplessly, head tilted, and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale inhaled sharply and leaned into the kiss. He brought one hand around to grip Crowley’s shoulder, and used the other to cup Crowley’s face. A tremor ran down Crowley’s body. Aziraphale brushed his thumb along Crowley’s jawline and deepened the kiss. That icy hand retreated and Aziraphale dared to hope he would learn how to keep it at bay. He felt like he had stepped outside in winter and found a patch of sun.

He pulled back and smiled to himself at the dazed expression on Crowley’s face. “Do you want to get rid of…” he indicated the bottle and glass still in Crowley’s hand.

Crowley slowly dragged his eyes away and looked at the offending objects. “Hm? Oh, right.” Unceremoniously, he tossed them away, stuffing the keys back into his pocket as he did so. His arms encircled Aziraphale and pulled him back in for another heady kiss.

The glass hit the ground, but instead of shattering into shards, it shattered into seeds, which germinated far too rapidly, extending tender green shoots and fragile white roots until a patch of wildflowers had rooted in the gravel beside the road, an eddy of pink, red, purple, and impossible blue.

#good omens #fanfic #soft #but soft what light #i hope everyone is having a good week #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands

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thethirdman8 · 15 days

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#henry mancini #love theme #romeo and juliet #but soft what light #beautiful arrangement

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queen-of-disasters-stuff · 8 months

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#girlblogger #girlblogging #girlbloggeraesthetic #aesthetic #pinterest girl #pinterest aesthetic #soft girl #lana del rey #light feminine #light femme #femme fatale #female hysteria #femcore #girl interrupted #im just a girl #just girly things #this is a girlblog #this is what makes us girls #light academia

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mini-minish · 1 month

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🤍 so i read my first zukka fic in all the 19 years i've been in this fandom!! it's the moon spirit sokka fic and it slaps go read it ->

#an excuse to draw a bunch of potato zukos #zukka #atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka #zuko #princess yue #katara #whats the yue x katara ship called #also introduced to in this fic and honestly? slay #fic art #in the soft light #dood #moon spirit sokka #yuetara #? perhaps ??#i have no idea if the author is on tumblr or something but if they are hi op ur fic is amazing ty

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zukosdualdao · 1 month

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everytime i see antis imply that katara somehow secretly still hates zuko by the end of the show, i'm like

... "yup. that's exactly how i look at people i hate."

#zutara #whether you interpret it platonically or romantically i truly don't care but she likes him! by the end of the show!#the different expressions are so too cute too #before tsr hug is like. fondly seeing someone in a new light #second one is friend enjoying teasing another friend #third one is like. soft and comforting but also almost admiring #fourth is literally weeping with joy that he's okay #like. in what world does she hate him by the end of this show lmao #also katara has very expressive eyebrows and i love that for her #atla #zuko #katara

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fauxunraveling · 6 days

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this is me if you even care </3

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adriancatrin · 2 months

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katara sees her brother and bff approaching something that can make them happy and says no interruptions

based on this photo from the live action cast

#my art #i learned SO MUCH about digital coloring while working on this. i can’t wait to try to put it to practice from the start and on purpose #instead of stumbling upon leagues of info when i was already 95% done lol #anyways #zukka #idc about tagging rn tbh i’m tired #fuck backgrounds dude #hate that shit #i need to do lighting studies fr tho #i can’t do interesting light i just. don’t have the knowledge #makes me sad cuz lighting really makes or breaks pieces it seems #also lol i started this then stopped for like two hours and just sketched katara a fuck ton #what i landed on here isn’t my favorite but i liked the soft + gently amused emotion she’s showing #ok whatever i’m done rambling #post

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die-rosastrasse · 1 year

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Carl Schlüter, Fraulein Bierling (1883)

Displayed at Albertinum, Dresden

Picture credits belong to this blog

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aurora-doll-333 · 3 months

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ribbons in our hair and our eyes gleamed mean ⋆˚⊹♡

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bluesdeluxe · 1 month

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Deniss Vasiļjevs: Hallelujah | Montreal 2024

no commentary version music by Leonard Cohen, performed by Thomas Feiner choreography: Shae-Lynn Bourne

#deniss vasiljevs #figure skating #worlds 2024 #fs video archive #the announcer lady saved lives (my life)#for what i know this is the softest hallelujah to have ever been performed #i always thought about is as of some dramatic or at least bittersweet story but today it was. kind. and full of warm light.#(maybe simply because deniss smiled at the beginning and that soft smile never really left)#the journey he's had with this program. oooh my god.#thank you so much.

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stephaniesblogxx · 2 months

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buffalo 66 ☆

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spacechalk · 5 days

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Minute

Through some contrivances known only to the archangel Aziraphale, the representatives of Heaven and Hell were currently huddled together in a rainy field in outer Sheffield, arguing.

Crowley had shown up ten minutes into the meeting, nominally as “The First and Only Representative of Earth,” but the only thing he had done the entire meeting was stare unblinkingly at Aziraphale. It was giving him a headache, the kind right between your eyes that you got after you had been crying for too long.

He checked his pocket watch again. He had been trying to do it surreptitiously, but his anxiety was getting the best of him. One minute to go.

He met Crowley’s eyes.

Eyebrows pinched together, he raised a fist and ran it up and down to the left of his heart. “Sorry,” he signed.

Crowley’s eyes widened and then narrowed in concentration. He shot a quick glance at the others, but they were too engrossed in their argument. Expression stormy, he lifted a finger. “What-”

“No time,” Aziraphale cut him off, tapping his wrist. “I need your help.”

Crowley was so still Aziraphale thought time had paused for a moment. Every line and angle of him was tense. His scowl was so deep it looked painful. His eyes were fiery behind his glasses. Aziraphale held his breath.

Crowley did not lay into him. Crowley did not tell him exactly what he could do with himself. Crowley did not tear him a new one. Instead, Crowley lifted his hands and signed in sharp, jerky movements. “With what?”

Relief flooded through Aziraphale like he had stepped under a waterfall. He could feel his expression brighten, and he tried not to read too much into it that Crowley twitched slightly and his eyebrows softened somewhat at nearly the same moment.

“New recruits,” he signed. He felt a smile start to bloom across his face. “I’ve found some more representatives for Earth.” As he inscribed the arc to indicate the world, it felt like he truly was encompassing all of it – the moths and the cracked book covers, the mud and the clogged rain gutters, the Thursday afternoons and the motorcycles - between his hands.

The minute was up.

Aziraphale felt a desperate flutter in his chest, like a bird trying to escape a fox, and then it was still. Looking around, it was clear the others had felt it too. Crowley rubbed his breastbone.

“What…” Michael’s expression was pinched. She tilted her head, as though trying to hear distant music.

Uriel had her hand over her heart. Her expression was shattered. “I can’t feel Heaven anymore,” she said.

Hastur’s expression cleared with realization. “Oh yeah, I can’t feel Hell anymore,” he said. Panic crawled across his face. “What does that mean-”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. All eyes fell on him.

“I’m afraid your administrative privileges have been revoked,” he said, straightening his cuffs and dusting off his coat. He lifted his chin. “You’ll find you no longer have access to your respective agencies.”

Silence met this pronouncement.

“What –” Sandalphon choked out. “Do you mean – we’re stuck here?”

Aziraphale gifted him with a benevolent smile.

The collective response to this was panic.

Michael shrieked and looked around at the grass she had been standing on the entire time like it had suddenly turned to lava. Her feet started an ungainly shuffle.

Hastur fell to his knees and started tearing up chunks of sod with his bare hands, howling.

Uriel looked around her desperately, taking in the clouds, the rain, the field. “But – but – ” she stammered. “But – what is there to do on this stupid rock?!”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and looked at Crowley. “Sushi?” he suggested. He had missed it so.

Crowley was trying not to smile, but one corner of his mouth betrayed him. “That might be a little advanced, angel,” he said. Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. “Maybe we could start with a ploughman’s?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, very well.”

#good omens #fanfic #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #but soft what light #for some reason I love the idea of them signing to each other #sign language #I do not speak BSL #feel free to rake me over the coals #why do descriptions of anger all sound like euphemisms

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justgleekout · 1 month

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