infatuation makes your heart race
love is quiet. love sets you at ease.
and because most of my pieces are mental screenshots of little scenes in my head, here's the scene:
Crowley was tugged into consciousness bit by bit. The afternoon light slowly filtered in, as well as the hum of music from the other room and the weird angle his neck was at. He was warm and content and wanted to sink back into his nap, but the threads of sleep fluttered away the more he tried. Finally, he took a deeper breath, shifting in the armchair, and cracked an eye open just a sliver. There he was, the angel, sitting at his desk. Had hardly noticed Crowley was awake, engulfed in his task of retouching a damaged page. Looking at his hands, Crowley became aware of the fuzzy warmth covering his own and peeked down to see a blanket tucked around his shoulders.
The feeling hit him so hard he let his head loll to the side, eyes closed. His chest tightened and he just…buckled. Finally came undone under the weight of his love for Aziraphale. Its inexorable, steadfast pull which he had been pushing back against for millennia, it had finally caught him off guard, sleepy and vulnerable and so tired from holding back, from refusing to name it. It was a quiet surrender. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale with the understanding of a man meeting his end and embracing it.
Perhaps he could gently pull the blanket to the side and get up. Perhaps he could cross the few steps to the desk and place a freshly made cup of tea to Aziraphale’s right. Perhaps he would hold his gaze, for longer than needed to answer “Don’t mention it”. Perhaps he would ask him if he would like a scone with that. Perhaps Aziraphale would understand that this was not about the scone at all. And yet, what Crowley was asking of him was also exactly about scones. And tea. And quiet afternoons together. Perhaps the angel would finally put down his sword, too, and the world would let out a breath it had been holding for millennia.
the soulmate to this piece, i guess.
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legend tells that Thoth, god of knowledge and magic, played cards with Khonsu, god of the moon, and won 5 extra days worth of moonlight. he gave them to the sky goddess Nut (who was forbidden from giving birth on any day of the then 360-day year), subsequently allowing her to produce Osiris, Isis, Horus, Set, and Nepthys—one on each of the five days
no one knows that Thoth was up to with the whole “leap year” thing. after all, there’s no way Nut could give birth to just 1/4th of a god. unless…..
no way!!!! this has become a CERTIFIED MEDJED POST!!!!!!!!!!
𓅓𓂝𓆓𓂧𓐦
TRUE MEDJ-HEADS REBLOG!!!!!!!!!!
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Obsessed with lovers and piners calling the object of their affections their best friend. Like yessss blur the lines between platonic and romantic love. show how important they are to you in a multifaceted way. Cover up your feelings with another kind of love that is just as true. One type of love does not negate the other and but tragedy can rip both out from under you single handedly, and it will hurt so much more that way. Losing a friend and a lover. Gaining both and not needing any labels for what they are. Using labels but having it be so much more than a title. Were they friends before they were lovers? Or were they lovers whose friendship grew inside of their love? Unclear! Who cares!
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