#i have reblogged over one thousand posts in the last three months compared with literally four years of blogging. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noona-clock · 3 years

Text

What’s Your Sign?: Sagittarius

Genre: Celebrity!AU

Pairing: Choi Minho x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,534

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

Ever since you’d seen him in his first ever role on a television series about five years ago, you’d fallen in love with Minho.

Choi Minho, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Through a screen, at least. You hadn’t yet been lucky enough to see him in person.

And since you’d fallen in love with him after watching his very first episode of that television series, you’d done nothing but support him for the last several years.

You saw every one of his movies the day it released in theatres. You watched every single episode of every single television show he appeared in -- even if he was just a guest star.

His popularity from his first role had soared pretty quickly, which was really a win/win scenario. Minho, who presumably had been a struggling actor previously, was now flush with offers from directors. And you, an immediate superfan, got to spend a lot of virtual time with your new favorite actor -- because, not only did he act in a very large handful of projects every year, he was also interviewed on talk shows, featured in magazines, walking the red carpet of premieres and award shows. He didn’t have a social media presence for some extremely odd reason, but you still felt like you knew him.

From everything you’d seen and read about him, Minho was outgoing, friendly, and charismatic. He was confident, straight-forward, and optimistic. He basically always had some version of a smile on his lips, and based on many posts in the Choi Minho subreddit, he never turned down an opportunity to meet a fan out in public.

He... was basically perfect.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about one day meeting him, falling in love, getting married, and having about ten children together in the most beautiful house in the universe.

But, to be fair, your daydream wasn’t entirely impossible!

You were a bit of a celebrity, yourself!

Kind of.

On the Internet.

You had started a YouTube Channel six years ago, and at first, you hadn’t really had a clear vision for your videos. An absolutely rookie mistake, of course, but there’s nothing you could do about it now.

You’d started off with makeup tutorials because that had been the hottest YouTube trend at the time. But... you quickly discovered you weren’t as good at makeup as one should be to post a tutorial online in good conscience. You also weren’t quite good enough at doing your nails, cooking, or sewing to do videos about those.

For at least a few months, you’d been stumped. You knew you wanted your own YouTube channel -- you had a pretty fitting personality for it -- you just didn’t have any one marketable skill.

Until, one day, you stumbled upon a video of a guy watching a K-Pop music video for the first time and reacting to it. That was literally it. The whole video had been just him watching and talking about it.

And you were very good at that. You loved watching things on a screen -- YouTube videos, television shows, movies, you name it! And you always had thoughts running through your head while you watched something. In fact, you frequently wished one of your friends had exactly the same taste in music, shows, and movies as you so you could voice those thoughts aloud to someone who actually wanted to listen.

So, how had you never thought of doing that on your YouTube channel?! There was obviously a market for it -- the guy you’d watched had a few hundred thousand subscribers, and since it was something you genuinely enjoyed doing, you weren’t afraid of running out of content inspiration or motivation any time soon.

It was literally the perfect idea.

The next day, you had set up your camera, pulled up the first episode of your favorite television show of all time, and got to work. When you posted the video a few hours later (Re-watching my FAVORITE show of all time), something about it just felt right. Like the stars had aligned. No matter if you got five views or five thousand, you knew you were on the right path -- when it came to YouTube, at least.

Every day after that, you chose something else to watch -- a nostalgic movie, a viral YouTube video, the really cheesy musical episode of a television show. You tried to pick things from all along the spectrum, and you also tried to wait a few days in-between continuing on with your re-watch of your favorite show, simply for variety’s sake.

Little by little, your channel began to grow. After work, you would film, edit, and post -- every single day. On the weekends, you would film two different videos in case you ever needed to take a day off. Or in case you just felt like posting two videos!

Your first sponsorship offer email had come about six months after you’d posted your first video, and your eyes had nearly fell out of your head when you’d seen how much they’d offered you. (Looking back, your first paying YouTube gig really hadn’t been that much money -- compared to what you could make now, at least -- but it had still been incredibly thrilling.) And, really, that had been the catalyst of your YouTube career and popularity. It seemed just the one sponsorship had been all you’d needed to catch the attention of other brands who wanted to work with you, and when you got to the point where you could actually afford to quit your job and turn down sponsorship offers you weren’t wild about? That’s when you knew you’d made it.

Okay, but really, you knew you’d made it when one of your videos hit one million views for the first time (a video of you watching a particularly cringe-worthy teen movie from about ten years ago).

And now, six years later, you had almost four million subscribers, and your most viewed video had almost twenty million views. Sometimes, you still couldn’t believe it!

The highlight of your time on YouTube so far -- at least, in your eyes -- had been when you’d seen Choi Minho for the first time about a year after starting your channel. You’d still had less then one-hundred thousand subscribers back then, so if anyone ever left on a comment on a video mentioning how long you’d been a Minho fangirl or remembering when you first discovered him, you knew they were an OG subscriber. But ever since that video, you did absolutely nothing to hide your affinity for him, both as an actor and as a person. You watched and reacted to every single one of his movies and every single television show episode -- you even sometimes reacted to interviews or videos other fans had made about him.

Even when your channel hit some pretty big milestones -- five-hundred thousand subscribers, one million, two million, three million subscribers -- you never played it cool when it came to Choi Minho. You switched up your content and your editing style here and there, but one constant on your YouTube channel was the fact you let your inner fangirl shine for all the world to see.

In fact, just last month, the trailer for his new movie dropped, and you were able to upload your reaction to it within two hours. Since then, you’d read and watched every interview you could find, favorited every tweet about the upcoming film, and liked every post on the #ChoiMinho hashtag on Instagram. Since he had no social media, you had to be satisfied with other people’s content rather than his own.

You were scrolling through his hashtag on Instagram right now, actually, as you procrastinated getting out of bed to go set up for another day of filming.

Now that you had almost four million subscribers and were approached by more than several companies for sponsorships every single day, you were able to focus on your channel full-time. You definitely got cabin fever from time to time, but it was worlds better than filming after work and on weekends. Now, you could actually take a day off whenever you wanted! It was glorious!

But you still procrastinated working. You were still human, after all.

After you caught up on his hashtag and liked just about every picture you could, you navigated to your inbox to look through your DMs. Over the years, it had gotten pretty easy to skip past the spam and sugar daddy requests (which were plentiful, unfortunately), so you no longer dreaded checking the unread messages. You could usually tell which ones to delete straight away from the profile picture and first few words alone.

To be quite honest, you really only opened ones where you either could tell someone was genuinely reaching out to say hi or thank you for posting your videos or... messages with Minho’s name visible in the preview. Shameless, but oh well!

After deleting a few messages at the top which were clearly spam, the next one you came to was actually one of those messages -- you saw ‘Minho’ in the preview. It was the very first word, even! And in all caps.

You pressed on it as quickly as you could.

And when your eyes took in the rest of the message... your heart stopped.

MINHO WATCHED ONE OF YOUR VIDEOS!

...This had to be a prank, right?

But right after the message in all capital letters was a link to a YouTube video, and the preview for the video was right below the message.

It was one of those videos put out by a big fashion magazine where celebrities watch videos about them and react to it. Usually, musicians and singers would react to covers of their songs by fans, but every once in a while, actors would read tweets or watch fanmade videos about them.

And when you clicked on the link this person had sent, the video opened in your YouTube app to show the title “Choi Minho Watches Fan Videos on YouTube,” and your eyes widened.

If what the Instagram message said was true... Minho had watched not only a fan video... but your fan video. And since his movie was premiering in just a couple of days, he had most likely watched your reaction to the trailer.

Oh my god.

Since the video had started automatically after clicking the link, you took a deep breath and concentrated all of your focus on your phone screen. You were not going to miss the part where he watched your video.

But, of course, after not even thirty seconds, you found you had already gotten distracted by how handsome he looked.

You quickly shook your head a bit, widening your eyes briefly before narrowing them to focus on your screen again. “Come on, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself. “You can watch it again right after this to admire him.”

It was only a fifteen-minute video, so it’s not like you had to wait forever to get to the part where he watched you!

Still, though, as the minutes ticked by, you felt your heart begin to race in anticipation.

What would he say about you? Would he find your obsession with him creepy? I mean, it had to be a little creepy watching someone squeal and profess their love for you -- someone you’d never met!

But, then... when you got really mushy comments... most of the time, it didn’t feel creepy. It just felt sweet, and you were incredibly grateful that a lot of your subscribers and viewers were so supportive.

Ugh! You were getting off track again!

You shook your head once more and set your gaze back onto your phone screen.

Finally, when the clip of Minho watching a fanmade music video transitioned into the clip of him watching your video, your breath caught in your throat.

Were you going to survive this?

Outcome is unclear.

“Oh, yeah, I know her,” Minho said as your trailer reaction video began to play in the corner. “She’s the reaction girl, right?”

Your jaw dropped.

................Excuse me?!

Minho knew you?!

As you watched Minho watching you with the most adorable soft grin on his lips, your hand slowly crept up to cover your mouth in shock.

And, then, when you in the video paused the trailer to bring up another one of his movies that this trailer had reminded you of, his grin widened and he looked very pleased. “She knows her stuff, huh?”

You heard someone behind the camera murmuring something, and subtitles appeared on the screen. “She’s a known superfan, actually.”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he leaned toward the camera. “She’s what?”

“A superfan,” the person repeated, a little bit louder. “She’s known to her viewers for watching all of your movies and shows. There are always comments about you on all of her videos.”

Minho’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Really? All of them? Comments about me?” He leaned back and nodded slowly after, apparently, receiving a positive answer. “I had no idea. I’ve just seen her videos about, like, the cheesy teen movies we watched as kids.”

You truly almost dropped your phone.

So... he knew who you were, but he hadn’t known that you fangirled over him on a regular basis?

First of all, how was that possible?

Second of all, did it really matter?! He knew who you were!

He knew who you were!

You didn’t expect that he regularly watched your videos, but still.

HE KNEW WHO YOU WERE!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you watched him finish up watching your reaction video. The look on his face was one of delight, and even though you knew he was a good actor, it sure didn’t seem like he was simply pretending not to be creeped out.

“She’s so fun,” he smiled as your video ended, his gaze shifting back to the person he had spoken with earlier. “She has more? Like, for my movies?”

The person mumbled something back, and this time, there were no subtitles on the bottom of the video. But Minho’s eyebrows shot up immediately.

“All of my movies?” he asked. And then he let out a joyous chuckle and added, “No way.”

He quickly turned to the computer and clicked on your channel name.

But the video transitioned into another clip of someone else’s video, so you didn’t get to see if he actually watched any other ones.

Even if he hadn’t, you were still overjoyed -- to say the least -- that he had watched just one!

He knew who you were! He had actually known who you were before this which was probably the most surprising thing you’d ever heard in your entire life. (Besides the fact that Minho was currently single. That was definitely more surprising than anything.)

After sitting in your bed for a few minutes, staring blankly at your screen as the video finished up, your gaze unfocused and blurry, you finally came to when you realized the video had ended.

And then you proceeded to freak out.

You squealed and shrieked and kicked your legs and rolled around and scrambled to your feet to jump up and down on your bed with glee.

Was this the best day of your life?

Quite possibly!

Once you’d calmed down just a tad, you plopped back into a sitting position, crossing your legs into a pretzel as you navigated back to Instagram.

You sent a reply to the person who’d sent you the video (”OH MY GOD THANK YOU HE KNOWS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) and then refreshed your inbox.

As expected, a whole new slew of messages came through and literally every single one seemed to be about the video.

Your lips split into a huge grin, and just before you clicked on a random one to read and reply to it... you noticed that one message had a blue check by the sender.

Pausing, you shifted your gaze to that message.

And your heart jumped up into your throat when you recognized the name of the account.

Obviously, it wasn’t Minho himself because he didn’t have one.

But it was the next best thing.

His management company.

You followed them, of course, and liked every single picture about him or with him. Of course!

But you had never gathered up the courage to message them. You’d had no reason to! What would you have said?

And now they were messaging you.

The several days following the video of Minho watching your video had been... a blur. To say the least.

You still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

I mean, you knew you were here because Minho’s management company had direct messaged you on Instagram inviting you to the premiere of his movie and you had accepted without one millisecond of hesitation and then you’d gotten on a plane a couple of days later and then checked into a super nice hotel and had a stylist and makeup artist sent to your room and after many hours you now looked better than you ever had in your entire life.

That’s how you got here.

But you still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

A rather large stroke of luck?

Good karma?

Hard work to grow your YouTube channel into something that would make you more easily recognizable by actual celebrities and their management companies?

Or a combination of the three?

Either way, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, and you knew you would never be able to forget this experience -- even if you, for some odd reason, wanted to.

I mean, you were currently in a really nice car, and the driver (yes, you had a driver!) was taking you to the red carpet.

The red carpet!

An actual movie premiere! With an actual red carpet!

And the movie was Minho’s movie.

You were at the premiere of Minho’s movie.

Oh my god, what if you saw him?!

As the car rolled to a stop in front of a crowded theatre, your heart and stomach dropped down to your very expensive and gorgeous shoes.

You’d gone to somewhat fancy events before -- it came with the job of being a YouTuber -- but never anything like this. Never an actual movie premiere. Never the chance of seeing your favorite actor in the history of time. And, obviously, never walking a red carpet.

Your door magically opened just as the car stopped moving, and a hand popped out of nowhere to assist you in exiting the vehicle. As gracefully as you could, you slipped your fingers into the mysterious palm, allowing it to gently pull you up and out of your seat and onto the sidewalk.

Almost immediately, camera clicks, light bulb flashes, and inquiring voices filled the air.

Cameras and lights in your face, you were used to. It was your everyday life, in fact!

But... all these people? Looking at you? Watching you? Taking pictures of you?

I mean, yeah, a few million people watched your videos. But it was absolutely not the same as a hundred or so reporters and photographers standing right in front of you.

Thankfully, some short but very powerful woman guided you onto the red carpet, muttering to you that all you had to do was stand in front of the backdrop, pose and smile for the cameras, and then move on to the next mark. Some reporters from news and entertainment channels would be waiting along the way to interview you (which didn’t scare you quite so much as you’d been interviewed a few times before), and all in all, it would take about an hour.

But it took you way less than an hour to discover that walking a red carpet is not as glamorous as it looks on television.

Walking like your shoes were covered in almost-frozen molasses so every photo taken was a good one. Switching back and forth between facial expressions so every photo taken wasn’t the same one. And do you know how many good places there are to put your hands when posing for a picture? Exactly two. One was on your hip and the other at your side. That was it. Definitely not clasped in front of or behind you, and definitely not tucking your hair behind your ear.

And just when you were sort of getting used to the constant posing for pictures, another short but powerful woman gently grabbed your arms and led you to a reporter from the most-watched entertainment news channel in the country.

“Hello, hello!” the perky reporter chirped as you approached her. “Come on over here!”

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly as you made your way to the small mark on the ground next to her, holding up your skirt with one hand so you wouldn’t trip.

“Y/N! Good evening, good evening, how are you doing?” she asked before sticking the microphone in your face.

You had to quickly get over the shock of her knowing your name since you didn’t want to look like a fool on live television, so you forced a grin on your lips and answered, “I’m pretty overwhelmed, actually!” you chuckled.

“Is this your first time at a red carpet?”

“It is, yes,” you confirmed with a slight nod. “And I’m so used to being alone in my house, talking to myself in front of a camera, so this is all new territory for me.”

The reporter laughed with delight before asking which designer you were wearing. You answered her with ease since your stylist had drilled it into your brain before you’d left the hotel.

Then, after she asked you to tell the folks at home what you’re known for, she said, “It’s a pretty fun story of how you got here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it is,” you answered, your lips pulling into a shy but excited grin. “I woke up one morning to a message on Instagram, and someone had sent me --”

The reporter interrupted you then, and you noticed her gaze was directed over your shoulder. You turned to look, and --

Well, the next few moments happened so quickly, you really had no idea how you reacted.

“Y/N!” Minho called out, smiling widely and waving before reaching out and sliding his hands over your shoulders. He stood next to you, squeezing you once before letting his arms drop down to his side. “I’m so sorry for interrupting --”

“No, we were just talking about why she’s here at your premiere!”

Minho’s smile brightened even more, and he continued on with the story you’d been telling.

Meanwhile, you were standing there. Mute. Staring at him.

Because oh my god.

How was it actually possible that Minho was more handsome in real life?

But also, how was it actually possible that Minho was standing next to you in real life?

But also also, how was it actually possible that Minho was real?

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

You came to when you heard him say, “Yes, this is our first time meeting,” before turning to you and holding out his hand for a handshake. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You took his hand, shaking it weakly, and said the first thing that came to your mind: “Oh my god, hi.”

The reporter giggled, but Minho, instead of acting embarrassed for you, simply let go of your hand and moved to pull you into a hug.

Holy cannoli, Minho was hugging you.

Choi Minho. Was hugging. You.

Hugging!

You!

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” he repeated with a grin after pulling away, though he was still incredibly close to you and gazing at you with those sparkling, dreamy eyes of his.

“You, too,” you managed to reply shakily.

The reporter then went on to interview Minho, asking him who had designed his suit, what his character in this new movie was like, and if he was working on any new projects.

“I’m in the early stages of something, yes,” he answered. “I don’t think I can say too much more, but in the meantime, I think I’d really like to film some videos with Y/N, branch out onto social media.”

Your heart stopped, and you knew your facial expression was doing nothing to hide your surprise.

Minho then turned to you with an adorably guilty look on his face. “I mean, if it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yes, absolutely!” you burst out immediately, and the reporter giggled once again.

“Well, there you have it, guys,” she said after turning to face the camera. “You heard it here first -- a brand new collaboration in the works, so keep an eye out.”

She turned to you then and asked you to remind the viewers of the name of your YouTube channel. You leaned into the microphone and silently praised the lord you were able to remember it.

“Thanks so much, you two,” the reporter said with a very peppy grin. “Have a wonderful evening!”

“You, as well,” Minho answered before putting a hand in-between your shoulder blades and guiding you back to the red carpet.

Wait, he was guiding you back to the red carpet? He wasn’t... leaving?

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured in your ear, his breath causing the most delicious tingle down your spine. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to meet you --”

“No,” you shook your head slightly. “It’s -- it’s totally fine. It wasn’t rude at all. I’m -- I just -- I’m a little overwhelmed. In a good way!”

“Totally understand. I remember my first movie premiere like it was yesterday, I know exactly how you’re feeling.”

You simply let out a nervous chuckle, but then Minho did something to make you even more nervous (which you hadn’t even been sure was possible).

He bent his arm and held out the crook of his elbow toward you.

“Shall we?”

Okay, you were now convinced this was a dream. This was all a wonderful, perfect, heavenly dream.

There was just no way that any of this could happen in real life! Being invited to Minho’s movie premiere was one thing, but him interrupting your interview on the red carpet and mentioning he wanted to film a YouTube video with you? Him offering to actually walk the red carpet with you on his arm?!

Nope. Definitely not real.

So, since this was absolutely a dream, you figured you’d just go with it!

“We shall,” you replied as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You slid your hand into the crook of Minho’s elbow, and the two of you slowly made your way down the red carpet. Together.

It didn’t take long for you to be awed by his professionalism. When the cameras began to flash, he posed like a natural. It seemed so easy for him, but you figured it probably was easy after going through this so many times.

He murmured helpful hints and reassuring words to you as you struggled through, and he even insisted on doing his interviews with you by his side.

(Of course, before the two of you approached each reporter, he asked you quietly if you would rather have the spotlight all to yourself. He didn’t want to usurp your first experience on the red carpet and would gladly step away so you could finish the process on your own. You declined every single time.)

When you finally reached the entrance to the theatre about an hour later, you figured Minho would say it had been nice to meet you and be on his way.

But you should’ve remembered that this was a dream!

“Do you want to come inside? We can sit together during the movie if you want. I mean, you’re pretty much my unofficial date already, but you can absolutely say ‘no’ if you don’t --”

“I would love to,” you interrupted, your voice more sure and firm than it had been all evening.

But hearing your favorite actor and biggest crush of all time declare that you were his date for the night would do that to you. Plus, Minho literally exuded confidence and warmth -- you’d always thought so while watching him on a screen, and it was both relieving and exciting to learn he was exactly the same in real life.

Minho smiled at you and then led you into the theatre, your heart now basically in a constant state of flips and somersaults.

Once the two of you took your seats in front of the screen, Minho turned slightly toward you.

“I have to admit, I’ve been watching your videos a lot since I filmed the reaction for the magazine,” he said with the most attractive half-smile you’d ever seen in your life. “Seriously, thank you so much for being so supportive.”

“Oh my god, no, thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “I can’t believe you watched my videos.”

“They’re kind of addicting,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what it is, but I definitely understand why you have so many subscribers. I actually created my own YouTube account just so I could subscribe to you.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart actually stopped somersaulting because it stopped beating altogether.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

“You’re so entertaining! It feels like watching those movies and shows with a friend. And I like how you’re really honest but still nice about it. You don’t seem to have a cruel bone in your body.”

“Uh, no, I think you’re getting me mixed up with yourself,” you replied with a somewhat awkward laugh.

Minho simply grinned at you, and the somersaults started back up inside your chest.

“I was serious about wanting to film with you, though,” he said, eyebrows raised earnestly. “I would love to collab --”

“Yes, absolutely,” you reassured him as fervently as you could. “Literally whenever. Please. Yes.”

“Okay, good,” Minho chuckled before reaching into his pocket and sliding out his phone. “Here, give me your number so I can let you know when I’m free next.”

You hesitated before accepting his phone because...

What?!

Minho was giving you his phone. His actual phone. So you could put in your number? Your number?

This night just kept getting more and more unbelievable.

But you were never in a million years going to pass up the opportunity to give Choi Minho your phone number, so you took his phone and quickly added yourself as a contact.

“Perfect,” Minho murmured, almost to himself, when you handed his phone back to him. He looked at the screen for a few moments, and you noticed a soft grin pulling at his lips. And then he shifted his gaze over to you and said, “I can’t wait.”

And... as your eyes locked on his...

You had a moment.

A moment.

One of those moments you will never, ever forget as long as you lived.

One of those moments where your future basically flashed before your eyes.

Minho arriving at your house to film a video with you, a friendship forming, late night texts and phone conversations, going out to restaurants whenever he was in town... a more than friendship forming.

And you truly could’ve sworn this was not just your heart wishing, but... you honestly felt like you were going to marry this man.

“I can’t either,” you replied softly just before the lights went down.

The first thing you did when you got home was set up your camera and film a video relaying everything about your experience at Minho’s movie premiere.

Of course, you didn’t mention The Moment -- y’know, the moment you had when you realized you were most probably going to marry him? And you could just feel that it wasn’t wishful thinking? You figured it was probably best to keep that to yourself for now.

But everything else you shared with your subscribers, and you did nothing to hide how wonderful and magical it had all been -- and it had really been Minho which had made it so perfect.

“And you guys, he is truly exactly the same in person as he seems in, like, interviews and stuff. He’s so nice and so friendly and so warm and so gracious and --”

But you were interrupted by a text message.

Most of the time, you left your phone on silent as you filmed, but you’d been too excited to get all of your thoughts out that you’d forgotten to switch the sound off before turning the camera on.

“Whoops,” you murmured as you reached for your phone on your desk in front of you.

Instead of simply turning your phone on silent, though, the actual text message you’d received caught your eye and was too intriguing to ignore.

It was from a number you didn’t have saved, but your instinct to read the first few words of a message from an unknown sender took over... and you were incredibly glad it did.

Because the message was:

Hey, it’s Minho 😁 Are you free next week?

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, CAPRICORN, AQUARIUS, PISCES

#kwritersworldnet #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho au #minho fluff #minho fanfic #shinee scenarios #shinee imagines #shinee au #shinee fluff #shinee fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #choi minho #shinee

152 notes · View notes

ineffable-dads · 5 years

Text

Life’s Ineffable Like That (Repost)

Ineffable Husbands, Post-Not-Apocalypse, Light-hearted shenanigans, Fluff

Summary: Crowley wakes up to find a human child left on his doorstep. He’s not sure where it came from, or who it belongs to, but he’s got a vague idea what to do with it. The trouble is getting Aziraphale to agree.

A/N: Alright, one more time! Here’s hoping the tags actually work! I originally posted this on my primary blog shenanigans-and-imagines, but decided to put it here for now, for hopefully obvious reasons.

This is going to just be a series of one-shots set it this universe. I don’t really have things in chronological order. If anybody would like to be tagged for this series or has any prompts, please let me know. And finally PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

Word Count: 2.8K

It took a lot to surprise Crowley.

Having been on the Earth since the very beginning and being older still, it would be an understatement to say he’d been ‘round the block a few times.

A more accurate description would be he’d been ‘round the area on which the block would eventually be built a few thousand times, eventually watched the construction of the block with a cup of tea, and then went around the newly constructed block a few hundred thousand times more; occasional stops for repairs notwithstanding. So, when one says that Crowley was taken by surprise when he opened his door to find a baby, in a basket, with a note attached, it is no small thing.

His first sinking feeling was it was another Anti-Christ after the last one had been a bust. He couldn’t imagine his superiors below would ever trust him with such a task again; part of the ineffable plan be damned. However, one look at the child told him otherwise.

It was human; from its tiny human dark-skinned toes to its tiny human wisps of black hair. One hundred percent, certified, distant relation to Adam and Eve, human. The next question was, who on Earth would place a human child in the care of a soldier of Hell?

He looked out into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of who ever had dropped the child on his door step. Nothing came of it, of course, but Crowley felt he had to at least put in the effort. He looked down again.

The child was now staring up at him. Its large brown eyes didn’t blink once as they took turns examining each other.

“Right,” Crowley said. “You aren’t going to cause trouble if I check something, are you?”

The baby blinked, and Crowley took it as a yes.

Slowly, the demon crouched down and took the note off the basket. Unfortunately, it was indeed, addressed to one A. J. Crowley.

He grimaced and opened the letter, which read as follows;

Crowley,

I’m not sure if you remember me, but I remember you. The night we had together is one I could never forget, for, as I hope is apparent to you now, obvious reasons. I couldn’t bear to give her away. You hear such awful things about foster care and orphans in books and the like. I just knew she’d be safe with you.

Janet

Crowley stared at the letter for a good long while. She had been right; he couldn’t remember her.

But, the letter had managed to answer three things. One, the baby was female. Two, the mother clearly didn’t know who Crowley really was. And three, this clearly was a big mix-up, but not by the postman. It also answered a bonus forth question; the child was not his problem.

Without another thought on the matter, Crowley closed the door with a mild thud.

The child, however, would not allow Crowley to dismiss her without another thought on the matter.

Muffled wails came from the other side of the door. Crowley turned towards it, his lip tightening.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play is it? Go ahead! I watched after the wrong Anti-Christ for eleven years, I can take it.”

The cries continued all the same as Crowley went about his morning routine. Or at least, as he tried to go about his morning routine.

He had hoped somebody else might hear the baby crying and take care of it themselves. Or maybe the baby would just stop when it realized it wasn’t going to get its way. He had no such luck on either front.

For one, he essentially lived alone on the top floor the apartment complex; so, the chances of a good Samaritan stopping in were slim to none. And for second, a new born human is as stubborn as a full-grown mule.

The baby cried as he prepped his coffee with a pressed lip. It continued on through his bedroom walls as he got dressed with gritted teeth. And finally got to him when he was about to water his plants.

“Fine!” he snapped, storming back towards the door. “Fine! Fine! Fine!”

He didn’t stop saying “fine” until the basket was placed on the dining room table just off the kitchen.

The child was still crying, but it had changed from the attention seeking wails to a more whimpering blubber.

Crowley let out an annoyed sigh, making a silent prayer to either side that nobody notice what he was about to do. With a snap of his fingers a bottle of warm milk appeared in his hand.

“Happy now?” he grumbled, as he held the bottle for the girl to drink.

The baby did so, staring up at him with wide eyes. She did not appear unhappy. The bottle had effectively stopped her cries. But, Crowley vaguely felt like she was threatening to start again should he try anything. He might have been impressed of her stubbornness if it wasn’t directed at him.

The moment’s quiet finally gave him time to think. And that time to think helped him to remember just how this mix up might have started.

He had been hearing more and more things on the news about sex, abortions, and if the government should or should not have a say in it. This was not a new topic of conversation. Sex had always been a hot button issue to humans; seven deadly sins and all that. But, what humans failed to realize was the sin wasn’t the lust itself, rather all the things humans were willing to do to satisfy it; anger, betrayal, jealousy, the lot. It came to the point where Crowley just had to know what all the fuss was about. He was a demon after all, it was his job to allow himself the occasional indulgence in sin.

So, one night, he went out, got drunk and indulged. One man, one woman, just to give each a fair shot.

It was good. He wouldn’t say he’d go out of his way to do it again. Or even if he could justify why humans were willing to kill each other over it; however, he could see why it might be done recreationally.

Timeline wise, it more or less coincided with the appearance of a one-month old baby on his doorstep. However, there was no conceivable way he was actually the father. Humans and demons couldn’t make children. It would be like an ape trying to have a baby with a snake, rather literally in this case. Which meant, she had a human father somewhere out there, but who or where he was was a question Crowley couldn’t answer.

Giving her back to her mother was out. She had cast her aside. The child had no home to be returned to. There was only one thing Crowley could do in this situation. He pulled the bottle away and picked up the phone.

“Sorry, we’re quite closed,” Aziraphale answered.

“It’s me,” Crowley said quickly. “I need you to come over.”

“Something’s happened?” the angel asked, immediately recognizing his friend’s tone.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Then, as if waiting for her cue, the baby began to cry once more.

“Is that a baby?” Aziraphale asked, alarmed. “Another Anti-Christ?!”

“No,” Crowley assured. “No, no Anti-Christ. Look, difficult to explain on the phone, just come over here.”

“I’m on my way.”

They both clicked off.

The baby cried, and Crowley was just about finished.

“Right,” he snapped, walking back towards her. With dramatic flair, he tore off his sunglasses, letting the child get full view of his slitted, yellow eyes.

“You are going to stop crying,” he growled in the same tone he used on his plants when one of them developed a spot. “You are going to sit there and behave until the angel figures out what do to with you. Do you understand?”

The baby blinked, and Crowley prepared himself for the cry of fear.

But, it never came. Instead, she out stretched her arms, brushing his nose with her tiny fingers.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suspiciously.

She didn’t answer. She just continued to swing her little arms around, trying to get a grip on his chin and face, and anywhere else she could manage to reach.

Crowley pulled back a hair but allowed his hand to come within her range flailing limbs.

She took hold of one of his fingers and let out a gurgle of satisfaction.

The demon stared down, not quite sure what to make of it. The sensation of having his hand look so monstrously large when compared to hers, made his stomach twist in a foreign, but not entirely unpleasant way.

She pulled his finger closer to her with no indication she was going to let go any time soon.

“You’ve got so sense of self-preservation, do you,” he asked, dismissively.

She batted his hand in response.

Before he even fully realized he was doing it, he picked her up, careful to let her chin rest against his shoulder as he held her. She started to drool on his jacket, but he found himself not really caring. He could always miracle it away later.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that,” he said. “Whoever ends up looking after you is going to have their work cut out for them.”

He walked through the flat towards the living room, not waiting for a response.

“Aziraphale will probably say to give you away. Make sure you’re picked up by some loving perfectly normal human family. Boring answer, really. But that would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

He sat down on the couch, adjusting so he was leaning back as the baby lay on his chest.

“God forbid an angel not to the right thing,” he continued, ironically. “But, I’m not an angel, am I? I’m not supposed to do the right thing.”

He let the thought stew for a moment before continuing.

“My lot would probably just leave you behind a dumpster. Or find some place out of a Charles Dicken’s novel to drop you. Basic set up for a miserable life; no real thought put into it. No imagination.”

The child let out a little yawn, gripping vaguely at the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

He caught himself smiling at the action. “Serves you right, a full hour of wailing can really take it out of you.”

She didn’t make any more sounds one way or the other. Her eyes simply fell closed.

Crowley kept a hand on her to keep her from sliding off his chest before leaning fully back to stare at the ceiling. An idea was forming in his mind; one he was growing more and more keen to act on. He would just need to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

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

When the angel arrived at the flat, Crowley was still on the couch, now with the baby safely cradled in his arms.

“Oh, thank God,” the angel said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “It’s human.”

“I said as much, didn’t I,” Crowley defended.

“You said it wasn’t another Anti-Christ,” the angel replied. “That leaves plenty of other options open.”

Crowley didn’t really have a counter argument and opted for a general nod of the head from side to side.

“Well, either way, you’re here now. Take her for a moment, will you?”

He didn’t wait for Aziraphale to respond before practically shoving the girl into the angel’s arms.

Aziraphale took her, of course, cradling her head with the same care he might with his beloved books.

“Hello there,” he cooed only a little awkwardly.

The child opened its eyes with the same curiosity it did when examining Crowley. Perhaps it was his angelic nature, or maybe she was still tired from a good cry, but she cooed back, her hands grabbing vaguely in his direction.

Aziraphale smiled at the action, and gladly gave her one of his fingers to play with before addressing the demon in the room.

“Where did she come from?

“Now angel, it’s been six thousand years. You really need me to explain the bird and the bees?”

“You know what I mean,” Aziraphale said, trying to place more indignity than embarrassment in his tone.

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses, handed Aziraphale the note, and leaned against the island countertop as the angel read.

Aziraphale finished the note, his brows furrowing in confusion. “This is clearly some sort of mistake.”

“That’s what I said,” Crowley said, taking back the note.

“You can’t possibly be the father.”

“Obviously.”

“So why does she think you are?”

Crowley crossed his arms, doing his best to say the words as casually as possible. “Probably because I had sex with her.”

Aziraphale blinked. “You what?”

“I. Had. Sex. With. Her.” The demon repeated, slowly.

Aziraphale blinked again. There wasn’t any judgement on his part that Crowley could detect, just a general confusion as if he had just confessed, he liked peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches.

“But, why?” the angel finally asked.

“Curiosity,” Crowley answered, this time with genuine casualness.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“There was nothing to tell. It was a one-off thing. Well, two off,” he said, with a shrug. “Different person, nice man.”

Aziraphale stared at him for a long while before letting out a tired sigh.

“I will never fully understand you Crowley.”

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But, I doubt we’d be friends if you did.”

The angel didn’t argue, looking back down at the human baby in his arms.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter where she came from,” he said. “The simple fact is she’s here, and she needs a home.”

The child’s eyes were beginning the close again as Aziraphale swayed gently back and forth, her grip still tight around his finger.

“I suppose we’ll have to find some adoption agency,” Aziraphale said, his voice sounding almost melancholy at the prospect. “There are plenty here doing good work.”

“Yeah, about that,” Crowley said, taking a stride towards him. “I was thinking, we could try something else.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I was thinking about keeping her.”

“What?!”

“Shh! Not so loud. She’s going to sleep.”

“You can’t keep her, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. His voice, though a whisper, lost none of its edge. “She’s a human being, not a plant you can terrorize.”

“So, she’s a human being, I’ve taken care of a human being before.”

“As a nanny, for a handful of years, and that was for work.”

Crowley could see the frustration rising in Aziraphale’s temples as the angel took a breath.

“This isn’t a one-off thing,” he continued. “This is a life. A human life. She should be with other humans.”

“And humans can do better than us, can they?”

“They were able to handle the Anti-Christ much better than us, if I recall.”

Crowley floundered for a moment before recovering. “Yeah, well, we helped.”

“By being incompetent.”

The demon let out a huff of frustration. “Fine, you don’t want in. You don’t want in. But then what happens to her after this is on you.”

“Excuse me?”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed making a point to circle the angel, as he put special care into his next few sentences.

“Let’s say you take her to an adoption agency. Maybe even go so far as to miracle her a nice normal family. Then what? Forget? Let the world do with her as it likes? This cold, careless world that so often let’s bad things happen to good people. If a child were left on your doorstep, would you really just let her go?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer but stopped as the child made another small cooing sound. He looked down again, his eyes softening at the odd little bundle even as conflict still raged back and forth.

“We can’t,” he said, with no real conviction.

“Maybe you can’t. I’m keeping her whether you say yes or no.” He then took another step forward and pulled the child out of the angel’s arms.

Aziraphale floundered, completely shocked by his friend’s actions. “But—"

“Let’s see,” Crowley said, speculatively. “Girls names. Girls names. Let’s go with –”

“No!” Aziraphale interrupted. “No! You can’t just name her. Once you name her, we’re sunk.”

“We? You just said yourself angel, you can’t.”

“Well, you’re forcing my hand,” he countered. “I can’t very well stand by and watch you create your own personal foot soldier of hell now can I?”

Crowley grinned, knowing full well the excuse was just that, an excuse. “Good, it’s settled, we’ll raise Izzie together.”

“Izzie?” Aziraphale said, doubtfully.

“Short for Isabelle.”

The angel raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Crowley asked. “You think I’m going to name my kid after some demon or something cruel like Bobbi Jean?” He shook his head. “No. I think Izzie is just wrong enough. Izzies are always crazy.”

Izzie raised no objections to this as she gurgled peacefully.

Aziraphale assessed the reaction carefully, before taking a small step closer.

Izzie spotted him and her hands reached out for the angel’s finger once more. He let her take without hesitation.

“Well for my money, I think Belle suits her much better,” Aziraphale said.

“Whatever you say angel.”

#ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable dads #isabelle crowley #good omens

133 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 5 years

Text

Life’s Ineffable Like That

Ineffable Husbands, Post-Apocalypse, Light-hearted shenanigans, Fluff

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

A/N: This is going to just be a series of one-shots set it this universe. I don’t really have things in chronological order. If anybody would like to be tagged for this series or has any prompts, please let me know. And finally PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

It took a lot to surprise Crowley.

Having been on the Earth since the very beginning and being older still, it would be an understatement to say he’d been ‘round the block a few times.

A more accurate description would be he’d been ‘round the area on which the block would eventually be built a few thousand times before eventually watching the construction of the block with a cup of tea and then going around the newly constructed block a few hundred thousand times more; occasional stops for repairs notwithstanding. So, when one says that Crowley was taken by surprise when he opened his door to find a baby in a basket with a note attached, it is no small thing.

His first sinking feeling was that this was another Anti-Christ after the last one had been a bust. He couldn’t imagine his superiors below would ever trust him with such a task again; part of the ineffable plan be damned. However, one look at the child told him otherwise.

He looked out into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of who ever had drop the child on his door step. Nothing came of it, of course, but Crowley felt he had to at least put in the effort. He looked down again.

The child was now staring up at him. Its large brown eyes didn’t blink once as they took turns examining each other.

“Right,” Crowley said. “You aren’t going to cause trouble if I check something, are you?”

The baby blinked, and Crowley took it as a yes.

Slowly, the demon crouched down and took the note off the basket. Unfortunately, it was indeed, addressed to one A. J. Crowley.

He grimaced and opened the letter, which read as follows;

Crowley,

Janet

Crowley stared at the letter for a good long while. She had been right; he couldn’t remember her. But the letter had managed to answer three things. One, the baby was female. Two, the mother clearly didn’t know who Crowley really was. And three, this clearly was a big mix-up, but not by the postman. It also answered a bonus forth question; the child was not his problem.

Without another thought on the matter, Crowley closed the door with a mild thud.

The child, however, would not allow Crowley to dismiss her without another thought.

Muffled wails came from the other side of the door. Crowley turned towards it, his lip tightening.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play is it? Go ahead! I watched after the wrong Anti-Christ for eleven years, I can take it.”

The cries continued all the same as Crowley went about his morning routine. Or at least, while he tried to go about his morning routine.

“Fine!” he snapped, storming back towards the door. “Fine! Fine! Fine!”

He didn’t stop saying “fine” until the basket was placed on the dining room table just off the kitchen.

The child was still crying, but it had changed from the attention seeking wails to a more whimpering blubber.

Crowley let out an annoyed sigh, making a silent prayer to either side that nobody notice what he was about to do. With a snap of his fingers a bottle of warm milk appeared in his hand.

“Happy now?” he grumbled, as he held the bottle for the girl to drink.

The baby did so, staring up at him with wide eyes. She did not appear unhappy. The bottle had stopped the cries at least. But Crowley vaguely felt like she was threatening to start again should he try anything. He might have been impressed if her stubbornness if it wasn’t directed right at him.

The moment’s quiet finally gave him time to think. And that time to think helped him to remember just how this mix up might have started.

He had been hearing more and more things on the news about sex, abortions, and if the government should or should not have a say in it. This was not a new topic of conversation. Sex had always been a hot button issue to humans; seven deadly sins and all that. What humans didn’t seem to realize though was the sin wasn’t the lust itself, rather all the things humans were willing to do to satisfy it; anger, betrayal, jealousy, the lot. It came to the point where Crowley just had to know what all the fuss was about. He was a demon after all, it was his job to allow himself the indulgence in sin.

So, one night, he went out, got drunk and indulged. One man, one woman, just to give each a fair shot.

“Sorry, we’re quite closed,” Aziraphale answered.

“It’s me,” Crowley said quickly. “I need you to come over.”

“Something’s happened?” the angel asked, immediately recognizing his friend’s tone.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Then, as if waiting for her cue, the baby began to cry once more.

“Is that a baby?” Aziraphale asked, alarmed. “Another Anti-Christ?!”

“No,” Crowley assured. “No, no Anti-Christ. Look, difficult to explain on the phone, just come over here.”

“I’m on my way.”

They both clicked off.

The baby cried, and Crowley was just about finished.

“Right,” he snapped, walking back towards her. With dramatic flair, he tore off his sunglasses, letting the child get full view of his slitted, yellow eyes.

The baby blinked, and Crowley prepared himself for the cry of fear. But, it never came. Instead, she out stretched her arms, brushing his nose with her tiny fingers.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suspiciously.

She didn’t answer, of course. She just continued to swing her little arms around, trying to get a grip on his chin and face, and anywhere else she could manage to reach.

Crowley pulled back a hair but allowed his hand to come within her range flailing limbs.

She took hold of one of his fingers and let out a gurgle of satisfaction.

She pulled his finger closer to her with no indication she was going to let go any time soon.

“You’ve got so sense of self-preservation, do you,” he asked, dismissively.

She batted his hand in response.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that,” he said. “Whoever ends up looking after you is going to have their work cut out for them.”

He walked through the flat towards the living room, not waiting for a response.

He sat down on the couch, adjusting so he was leaning back as the baby lay on his chest.

“God forbid an angel not to the right thing,” he said, ironically. “But, I’m not an angel, am I? I’m not supposed to do the right thing.”

He let the thought stew for a moment before continuing.

“My lot would probably just leave you behind a dumpster. Or find some place out of a Charles Dickens’ novel to drop you. Basic set up for a miserable life; no real thought put into it. No imagination.”

The child let out a little yawn, gripping vaguely at the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

He caught himself smiling at the action. “Serves you right, a full hour of wailing can really take it out of you.”

She didn’t make any more sounds one way or the other. Her eyes simply fell closed.

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

When the angel arrived at the flat, Crowley was still on the couch, now with the baby safely cradled in his arms.

“Oh, thank God,” the angel said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “It’s human.”

“I said as much, didn’t I,” Crowley defended.

“You said it wasn’t another Anti-Christ,” the angel replied. “That leaves plenty of other options open.”

Crowley didn’t really have a counter argument and opted for a general nod of the head from side to side.

“Well, either way, you’re here now. Take her for a moment, will you?”

He didn’t wait for Aziraphale to respond before practically shoving the girl into the angel’s arms.

Aziraphale took her, of course, cradling her head with the same care he might with his beloved books.

“Hello there,” he cooed only a little awkwardly.

Aziraphale smiled at the action, and gladly gave her one of his fingers to play with before addressing the demon in the room.

“Where did she come from?

“Now angel, it’s been six thousand years. You really need me to explain the bird and the bees?”

“You know what I mean,” Aziraphale said, trying to place more indignity than embarrassment in his tone.

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses, handed Aziraphale the note, and leaned against the island countertop as the angel read.

Aziraphale finished the note, his brows furrowing in confusion. “This is clearly some sort of mistake.”

“That’s what I said,” Crowley said, taking back the note.

“You can’t possibly be the father.”

“Obviously.”

“So why does she think you are?”

Crowley crossed his arms, doing his best to say the words as casually as possible. “Probably because I had sex with her.”

Aziraphale blinked. “You what?”

“I. Had. Sex. With. Her.” The demon repeated, slowly.

Aziraphale blinked again. There wasn’t any judgement on his part that Crowley could detect, just a general confusion as if Crowley had just confessed, he liked peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches.

“But, why?” the angel finally asked.

“Curiosity,” Crowley answered, this time with genuine casualness.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“There was nothing to tell. It was a one-off thing. Well, two off,” he said, with a shrug. “Different person, nice man.”

Aziraphale stared at him for a long while before letting out a tired sigh.

“I will never fully understand you Crowley.”

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But, I doubt we’d be friends if you did.”

The angel didn’t argue, looking back down at the human baby in his arms.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter where she came from,” he said. “The simple fact is she’s here, and she needs a home.”

The child’s eyes were beginning the close again as Aziraphale swayed gently back and forth, her grip still tight around his finger.

“I suppose we’ll have to find some adoption agency,” Aziraphale said, his voice sounding almost melancholy at the prospect. “There are plenty here doing good work.”

“Yeah, about that,” Crowley said, taking a stride towards him. “I was thinking, we could try something else.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I was thinking about keeping her.”

“What?!”

“Shh, not so loud,” Crowley said. “She’s going to sleep.”

“You can’t keep her, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his whisper losing none of its edge. “She’s a human being, not a plant you can terrorize.”

“So, she’s a human being, I’ve taken care of a human being before.”

“As a nanny, for a handful of years, and that was for work.”

Crowley could see the frustration rising in Aziraphale’s temples as the angel took a breath.

“This isn’t a one-off thing,” he continued. “This is a life. A human life. She should be with other humans.”

“And humans can do better than us, can they?”

“They were able to handle the Anti-Christ much better than us, if I recall.”

Crowley floundered for a moment before recovering. “Yeah, well, we helped.”

“By being incompetent.”

The demon let out a huff of frustration. “Fine, you don’t want in. You don’t want in. But then what happens to her after this is on you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s say you take her to an adoption agency. Maybe even go so far as to miracle her a nice normal family. Then what? Forget? Let the world do with her as it likes? If a child were left on your doorstep, would you really just let her go?”

“We can’t,” he said, with no real conviction.

“Maybe you can’t. I’m keeping her whether you say yes or no.” He then took another step forward and pulled the child out of the angel’s arms.

Aziraphale floundered, completely shocked by his friend’s actions. “But—"

“Let’s see,” Crowley said, speculatively. “Girls names. Girls names. Let’s go with –”

“No!” Aziraphale interrupted. “No! You can’t just name her. Once you name her, we’re sunk.”

“We? You just said yourself angel, you can’t.”

“Well, you’re forcing my hand,” he countered. “I can’t very well stand by and watch you create your own personal foot soldier of hell now can I?”

Crowley grinned, knowing full well the excuse was just that, an excuse. “Good, it’s settled, we’ll raise Izzie together.”

“Izzie?” Aziraphale said, doubtfully.

“Short for Isabelle,” Crowley explained.

The angel raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Crowley asked. “You think I’m going to name my kid after some demon or something cruel like Bobbi Jean? No. I think Izzie is just wrong enough. Izzies are always crazy.”

Izzie raised no objections to this as she gurgled peacefully.

Aziraphale assessed the reaction carefully, before taking a small step closer.

Izzie spotted him and her hands reached out for the angel’s finger once more. He let her take without hesitation.

“Well for my money, I think Belle suits her much better,” Aziraphale said.

“Whatever you say angel.”

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

Permanent Tag List; @sassy-satanunicorns, @roseslovedreams, @stargeek727, @kaliforniacoastalteens, @yourwonderbelle, @steve-thotgers, @stellasakura31

#ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #anthony j crowley #isabelle #life is ineffable #ineffable dads

36 notes · View notes