#crowley jumping into aziraphale's arms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joycrispy · 8 months

Text

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta

13K notes · View notes

twilightcitysky · 9 months

Text

Hypothesis: Aziraphale HATES that Crowley is living in his car.

Supporting evidence:

The very first thing we see him do in the present is stop Maggie from moving out and making sure she feels welcome to stay as long as she likes.

He clearly knows Crowley’s unhappy before anything happens in the plot: “Does it calm you down?”. And also clearly feels helpless about it. Enter the conspicuous Eccles cakes: Aziraphale’s offer, which is rejected.

Crowley’s obviously, for all his hedging, spending a lot of time at the bookshop— so much that he has his own glasses perch and feels immediately comfortable removing them. See also: “Technically my bookshop but we both get plenty of use out of it”, “Why don’t you wait inside? You like waiting inside”.

It’s Crowley who immediately shoves the box of plants into Aziraphale’s arms after Aziraphale returns from Scotland.

Speaking of Scotland, why wouldn’t Aziraphale take the train? Why insist on driving the Bentley? Is it perhaps because he wants to get Crowley and his plants into the shop, and thinks if he creates a situation where Crowley has to stay there, maybe he won’t immediately leave again?

He’s got an empty bedroom and an apparently pathological need to make the person staying there very comfortable, creating cute little customized souvenirs like he’s an Air B&B host (displacement!).

He immediately jumps to having Gabriel stay with him— he didn’t have to. Arguably, both Gabriel and Aziraphale would be safer if Gabe stayed elsewhere.

That’s what I’ve got for now but I’m sure there’s more. Throughout the show, watch what Aziraphale gives to others and does for others, and it’ll tell you what he wants to do for Crowley. He’s living so deeply in displacement in makes him come across as manic and brittle.

(What probably happened is Aziraphale offered the spare bedroom and Crowley, who unconsciously didn’t want to be his roommate or sleep in a single bed with Aziraphale right downstairs because how could the poor lovesick boy cope with that, told him he wasn’t a “good deed” for Aziraphale to do and stormed off.)

Conclusion: Aziraphale asked Crowley to stay at his place, immediately and probably repeatedly. They had a row about it, and Crowley refused, and to this day Aziraphale doesn’t understand why.

And it hurts him.

#this might be the start of a longer meta about Aziraphale feeling rejected by Crowley repeatedly throughout this season #being made to feel like he’s doing the wrong thing or not good enough #they’re fracturing apart before the season even starts #all because they both fear rejection so much that Crowley preemptively rejects Aziraphale and Aziraphale is afraid to push #look at the projection and displacement and you’ll see what’s really going on #ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #the awkward homeless Crowley situation #it’s absolutely manufactured and unnecessary #Crowley’s literally circling Aziraphale #and Aziraphale just wants him to come inside #good omens season two #good omens season 2 #renew good omens #just so they can finally have a talk about how Crowley is such a drama queen he lived in his car for three years

3K notes · View notes

dalliancekay · 2 months

Text

The 'Aziraphale Still Believes in Heaven' Take

Is one that I see so often. Too often. The way many fans (still) say Aziraphale is so naïve, he's never learned anything, he never changes, Metatron just offered him a promotion and he happily jumped on it. Happy to go back to Heaven. Still in their clutches. Leaving Crowley behind. Cos nothing lasts forever. Amirite? Poor long-suffering Crowley. So patient. Goes through so much. Aww. Takes that say that because Crowley never told Aziraphale about the venom in Gabriel's "Shut your stupid mouth and die already", Aziraphale has no idea that Heaven is not the good guys, that he still believes they are on the side of truth and light.

Takes that claim Aziraphale wants Crowley to come to Heaven and be an angel again so they can be happy like in the good old times. Takes that basically say that Aziraphale is stupid. And blind. LISTEN Do you mean this Aziraphale:

Who knew before Crowley did that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, that things are wrong and one can get in a lot of trouble for a thing as minor as a suggestion to improve things. Is this the Aziraphale that would seriously suggest to Crowley, who he was immediately deeply anxious over, to go back to 'good old times'? What good old times? How is Heaven a place of light when:

A bunch of angels comes down to Earth to bully and PUNCH ONE OF THEIR OWN?

Why would he think they are the light when they shame him for being who he is?

Yes, I HC is that ultimately, Aziraphale still believes in God, in Her inherent goodness, even if Her tasks were often odd... and not lining up with what he thought was right. He thinks (remember my own HC) something somewhere went wrong with the what She wanted and the how it was understood and executed. And yes, Aziraphale wants to do good. But that's not tied to him being an angel. And it's not a bad thing ffs! Crowley does good as well. Aziraphale might be the only one who knows, but he knows. Maybe getting humans out of the Garden to seek knowledge was always a (certainty) possibility, and maybe not, but it was Aziraphale's decision to arm them.

And She didn't make him Fall for it. And do you remember when:

Aziraphale first openly questioned that Heaven was actually doing what God actually wanted? He had a think after the Flood, didn't he. He did what he thought was right. He trusted Crowley over his fellow angels, with his own sense of rightness. He and Crowley saved the kids that Aziraphale triple checked the Archangels saw no problem in letting die to make things easier. And She didn't make him Fall for it. In Edinburgh:

Az re-evaluated the thinking he was taught and did a full 180 degree turn, trying in few hours to save the grave-robbing girl AND the possible future lives of children that could be helped via more learning. And when we come to Metatron and his threats, we don't see the full conversation, but don't we see enough? Aziraphale says that he's not interested. Metatron keeps nagging at him. Pushing the symbolic coffee from Coffee or Death at him. Flattering him with obvious untruths. After all, Aziraphale knows what Heaven thinks of him. He tried to reason with Metatron before. Metatron tells him they know how deep his disobedience lies:

Aziraphale is not a fool. He knows this is an offer of come quietly or we will find a way to destroy you and your demon this time. Aziraphale didn't have to hear Metatron's quip of: "For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." He knows the system is rotten. He knows for a LONG time. Did you see his face when he met Muriel and realised what a lonely sad existence they lead.

AND Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale despite the fact that he's being used to get out of trouble, being made to listen about random things the angel enjoys from symphonies to food and plays, and who continues to believe in goodness and kindness. CROWLEY LOVES AZIRAPAHLE BECAUSE OF THOSE THINGS AND because he sees Aziraphale for what he is, an angel who thinks for himself, changes his mind, learns, angel who is brave, who stands for the right thing, who sacrifices his own happiness for the safety of others, especially the demon he loves. They are the same. They are lonely. They are one of a kind. And they love each other.

Aziraphale wants to stay at home. In the home he built for himself and Crowley. On Earth where he's found so much to love. But he knows it is impossible. As Crowley confesses his love, Aziraphale struggles to stay on his plan to push him away, to make him stay. He'll miss Crowley terribly. He wants them to be together. For him, they were an 'us' the whole S2. However tenuously. Fragile existence and all that.

But even this was ripped away from him. And whatever he's planning, he knows he needs to do the first steps on his own. He can't submit Crowley to the torture that being in Heaven is going to be for him, an unwanted, despised angel. And that would be even worse for an unwanted demon. He had to push him away.

So he leaves. Furious. And determined. Whether it is to burn the place down or find God and ask Her all the questions to Her face I don't know. But his love will push him through.

And if I see one more simplistic take of the snarky demon is really good isn't he, so that means the stuffy angel is bad (and needs to change to be worthy of the demon) I will curse their dreams with lines about shades of grey. AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY ALREADY LOVE EACH OTHER

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #neil gaiman #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #good omens thoughts #aziraphale my beloved #aziraphale is such a bastard #aziraphale defense squad #good omens meta #hc #the final fifteen #season 2 #kaypost

834 notes · View notes

krakensdottir · 7 months

Text

Something else I've noticed about Crowley's compassion is that it also extends to his enemies.

To a point, mind. What he did to Ligur makes clear that he has limits. And those two pushed them like no one else. If it's compassion or survival, he will pick survival every time, even if it means melting your ass.

But outside of that? Look at him with Shax. He knows she's a threat, he keeps her at arm's length. When she asks about the boiler, though, he's instantly helpful. He could have grinned at her and said 'figure it out' and shut the door. But he didn't. He answered her question, because hey, this Earth shit is hard and she needs all the help she can get. And that's remarkable. Because I doubt most demons would do that - even though helping your replacement settle in could be seen as practical, they generally don't seem to go out of the way for each other at all, certainly aren't obligated to. This was Crowley's decision.

Then there's Gabriel. Crowley doesn't trust him, he initially argues that they shouldn't help him because it's dangerous for them both to be anywhere near him. But once he has agreed to help... he is remarkably gentle with Jim. Answers questions about gravity even when he doesn't have to - when he could easily just not talk to him at all. Even when he tests him, almost gets him to jump out a window, he ends up calling him back (once he's satisfied Jim isn't faking, I have no doubt). He ends up offering him hot chocolate. Even when Crowley wants to be mean, even when he tries, his nature ends up winning.

And finally, Beelzebub. I've seen a lot of talk about how jealous Crowley must be, how bitter... but he doesn't seem like it, does he? He's very soft in that scene. He's the one who recommends them a nice date spot to retreat to - one that he himself was considering at one point. He sounds a little wistful to me, like yeah, he wishes he and Aziraphale could have that happiness too. But he doesn't show any sign of begrudging it, either. It seems like he is, in his Crowley way, happy for them. (Of course I'm sure it doesn't hurt that this means they won't be his or Aziraphale's problem anymore. If it were just that, though, I don't think his voice would've sounded like that.)

So all of this is remarkable, but of course, with a little consideration, it's not surprising coming from Crowley. This is who he is underneath. This is who he wants to be. (Even if he hates that he wants it, lol.)

#good omens #crowley

1K notes · View notes

britishneonjello · 6 months

Text

Crowley had not looked Aziraphale in the eye since they had sat down. The world is doomed again, and the burning moment of the last time they spoke still lingers on both their lips. Neither of them speak.

Finally, Crowley, both defeated once again by the gravity of his heart and angry at his angel, runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"1941," he hisses. Aziraphale's insides crumple like paper at the sound of his voice. Crowley continues.

"God, I love him," he quotes. Aziraphale shatters.

The angel jumps up from his seat as if he were on fire (he is). He's sweating and shaking suddenly, throat closing but not quickly enough.

"You read my diary?" Aziraphale feels the ground tilt and the Earth fall off its axis. That wasn't a part of the Plan. Crowley's profile was unreadable.

The demon stands slowly. His limbs drip towards the stilted ground and he breathes. He can't stop himself.

"I lo–" Crowley starts again. He is cut off.

"I–!"

He looks at him. Now it is Aziraphale who won't meet his gaze. It is taking quite literally everything to keep Crowley planted where he is. The sight of Aziraphale's tears always destroys him completely.

As always, the angel wrings his hands. His face is red, his rosy cheeks shiny. Crowley only catches glimpses of the galaxies in his eyes as he looks this way and that.

The angel steels himself. And then that's it. He almost chuckles at the timing of it, but he's so, so...relieved. Exhilarated. Happy.

"I love him, most ineffably," Aziraphale recites. They lock eyes.

Time wraps around itself. It's wimey like that. And suddenly Crowley is back in Eden, surrounded by peace and perfection and life. And for the first time in the history of the world, the Sun rises. And Crowley looks East.

Of course, atop the Wall, a figure. Slowly awash with molten gold from a star–his stars, his star–the figure stands nervous but sure, calm but curious, beautiful and divine. Aziraphale turns away from the horizon towards the garden. And Crowley falls.

He falls into Aziraphale's arms only to squeeze and pull and lift the angel as close as divinely possible. The warmth and strength of the soft arms that desperately grip him back seep into his bones.

Aziraphale presses his face hard into Crowley's neck, daring anyone at all to separate them ever again. He's sobbing audibly now, as Crowley continues his whispers of, "I love you, I love you, I love you," right into his ear. Aziraphale decides two arms are not enough, so he pulls his wings out of space and wraps them around their shoulders, too. He feels rather than sees inky black wings shelter around their waists.

"Please, do it again," the angel pulls back just enough to look his demon in the eye once more. Oh, Someone, they're both a mess. "Kiss me, again. Please, Crowley. My love. How I love you, so."

Crowley does.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce #go season 2 #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #keepthejellofloating #i draw not write but here we are #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #go fanfic #gomens #my own gomens stuff

990 notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 5 months

Text

I think we all should appreciate the fact that it was Crowley who walked away first and not Aziraphale.

Can you imagine? Aziraphale turns around, ready to go, ready to leave, and Crowley knows that this is it—if he steps through that doorway he is GONE.

"Aziraphale," softly, at first, almost inaudible, but he knows he heard it, sees the twitch in his fingers.

"Aziraphale," louder now, and Crowley balls his hands into fists and takes a few steps towards him, almost shaking with bitter, twisted relief when he stops. He does not turn to face him, simply stands on top of the circle rug with tremors running through his shoulders, down his back.

"Aziraphale."

It's a warning, a plea, a 'don't you dare run away from me'. It's 'don't leave me, please'.

"What do you want me to do?" Aziraphale whispers, his voice wet with uncried tears, and he hates all of this, hates the Metatron for showing up, hates Gabriel for getting what THEY should have had, hates Nina and Maggie, hates humanity, hates every single being in heaven and hell.

Six thousand years and this is their reward? This is what they get?

"Say no," he gives back, biting his tongue until he tastes blood, and inches closer. "Tell him you've changed your mind. Stay.

"I can't. I need to try to-"

"They don't care about you, they never fucking have," and oh, he is yelling now, and it is the fury dripping from his words that finally makes Aziraphale face him. "I care about you, I have been right here for six thousand bloody years, angel. By your side, waiting for you to be ready."

"Come with me!" Anger glints in his eyes, steel-blue and burning, almost drowning out the heartbroken desperation.

"If you really think there is anything in this universe that would get me to return to heaven then—then you don't know me. You never have."

Electricity sparks on his skin, red, powerful, urging him to find release, and Crowley feels tears stinging in his eyes, blinking until they roll down his cheeks. It doesn't matter now, does it? He takes a deep breath, tries to channel the good memories, the hope, the last few years of not-really-pretending.

"Then there's nothing more to say," Aziraphale spits, and the worst part is that they both knew it was going to end this way sooner or later.

The distance between them disappears as he catches up with him, leaning in, pressing in, until they are breathing the same air, crying the same tears.

"Aziraphale, if you leave this bookshop I-," his voice breaks, unwilling to give shape to the thought begging to be spoken, "I will not be here when you come back. If you come back. I'm done waiting."

Time freezes, and his eyes widen while his body shakes with the bitter mess of emotions churning in his gut.

"You don't mean that." He doesn't. Someone knows, he does not mean a single word of it, but right now he needs to mean it, needs to believe it, or he will jump head-first into the nearest church and drown himself in holy water.

"Try me," Crowley whispers, and suddenly hands are grabbing his shirt, pulling him in, making the world disappear. Familiar lips silence him, and he kisses back because he needs this to matter or he will regret it for the rest of his sorry existence. Don't leave, he prays into the kiss, wrapping his arms around him, don'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleave.

Don't leave me here alone.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen

657 notes · View notes

mrghostrat · 1 month

Text

WIP Tag Game

If you’re tagged, make a new post and share 1-2 sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context- Let your followers guess!

ohhhohoh you know i’m a sucker for out of context 😈 thank you @thescholarlystrumpet for the tag! tagging anyone who wants to jump in and show off their WIPs!

1. “You’re like an old married couple,” she snorted. Maggie giggled in agreement, screwing up her nose in delight.

“Oh, not at all.” Aziraphale waved her off automatically, but couldn’t help smiling as the observation really sunk in. “…Do you think so?”

🐁

2. [Crowley] spun on his heel to reach for it, disturbing his perfect black ensemble with a sliver of pale belly as his arm stretched up, but Aziraphale definitely did not look for it. It just snuck into his eye line, the same way Crowley’s toothy smiles and subtle winks often did, and it was nobody’s business if Aziraphale didn’t turn away.

🐀

3. Aziraphale turned on his side to get a little closer, laying nose to nose with [Crowley]. He touched Crowley’s cheek, just to make sure he didn’t stir, and then traced the length of his jaw, just because he could.

“You stupid man,” he whispered, equally pained as it was fond, equally at himself and at the beautiful sleeping face in front of him.

#ratwips #good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands

177 notes · View notes

thisisawonderfulusername · 8 months

Text

it's just us now

crowley x demon!reader x aziraphale

requested by: @cool-iguana

summary: after aziraphale leaves, you and crowley must move on.

warnings: sad :( but also comfort

a/n: i had to jump between writing this and a different fic because this was making me sad and the other was basically me kicking my feet while i giggled. that will be out soon:) for now, enjoy

you stood beside crowley's bentley, staring in silence across the street. crowley stood on the other side of the car, also unable to utter a word.

aziraphale entered the elevator that would bring him back to heaven, and you couldn't do anything but stare. your eyes had been glossed over, as if a painter had brushed on their protective coating on a finished painting.

the car felt as if it was your grounding object. it was the only physical thing letting you know that you're here- that crowley is here. he's not leaving you too. you'll still have crowley.

part of you was hoping that your angel would change his mind. that as he took a short glance at the two of you that he would come back to you, back to his bookshop.

that you could all be together on earth, on your own side.

but his words repeat in your head, like a broken record.

"nothing lasts forever."

after the doors close, you clear your throat, forcing yourself to keep from crying.

"well, i suppose it's just us now." you say softly, opening the passenger door and falling into your seat.

as crowley gets into his own seat, he remains quiet for a moment. when he starts the engine, the radio began to play a nightingale sang in berkeley square.

as he swiftly turns it off, you sniffle. "we should've known being with an angel wouldn't work."

your voice is quiet, but in the silence of the car it seems so loud.

crowley nods somberly, placing his hand over yours.

"we should've known."

the ride home was spent in silence, the only noise was the humming of the engine.

after a while without the angel that completed your relationship, you and crowley were able to move on.

to leave old memories behind, you managed to find a new apartment. you filled it with plants that thrived- whether it be through their fear of crowley or your green thumb. you even opened a plant nursery for something to do.

some nights, the pain would return.

you would wake from a dream of your angel, sharing a dinner or all of you cuddling on the couch with a cup of tea.

tears would be falling from your eyes when they opened, and at the smallest sound of a sniffle, crowley was awake.

he was there to pull you into his arms and offer to make you a cup of tea in a whisper.

"i just need you," you'd tell him.

that was all he needed to hold you tight and wrap the blanket snugly around the two of you, his thumb carefully rubbing shapes into your skin to lull you to sleep.

on the rarer occasion, you would wake up to find him missing from the bed, a sliver of light filtering in through the bottom of your door.

you would carefully get out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and leaving the room to find him sitting on the couch, staring off into nothing in silence.

you would make a cup of tea before sitting down with him, sharing the blanket and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"are you okay?"

"i will be."

you'd nod, wrapping your arms around his waist and dozing off until you wake up in the morning, back in bed with crowley cuddled close.

eventually, you'll be okay.

the remaining pain will fade away and your life will continue without aziraphale.

taglists

good omens: none yet

crowley: none yet

aziraphale: none yet

#crowley x reader #crowley x aziraphale #good omens x reader #aziraphale x reader x crowley #aziraphale x reader #good omens crowley x reader #crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens aziraphale x reader

836 notes · View notes

raz-writes-the-thing · 6 months

Text

Five More Minutes (Good Omens Drabble)

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: Your partners catch you singing under your breath.

CW: tooth rotting fluff- make your dentist appointments now

Gomens Tag List: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It’s a peaceful morning, for once. No impending doom, no threat of Armageddon, no Heaven or Hell bearing down on all sides. Just a lovely, quiet morning. Your partners had left already by the time you had gotten up in the morning, off doing something they shouldn’t, you supposed. Usually, they’d invite you with them, but they must have known you’d needed a sleep-in. In all honesty, you had been getting a little crabby lately.

There was just something different about today. Maybe it was the warm light pouring through the kitchenette window… Fresh sunlight always made you feel fresh and centred. You popped the jug on and moved over to the radio to turn it on. You had discovered some time back that Aziraphale had put a miracle on the old, vintage thing to instantly find a station that was playing one of your favourite artists. When you’d asked him about this, he’d blushed and spluttered out that he didn’t think you’d notice. He loved doing little things like that for you.

Today, the little radio knew exactly what it was doing and flipped to a station playing one of your favourite songs. You grinned, swanning about the kitchenette to make yourself a cup of tea. You were humming and singing along with the song as you went, hips bopping and swaying just slightly to the music. Yeah, today was going to be a good day.

When you’d made your tea and breakfast, you pulled all the items into the back office room of the Bookshop, settling them down and wandering over to the bookcase Crowley had put in for you, saying you should have somewhere for your own books to read. The both of them sometimes left little novellas and things they thought you might like somewhere on the shelf for you to find, too. It was incredibly sweet of them.

It was as you were reaching up for a book just out of your reach on the top shelf that a warm hand pressed into your side and another hand reached for the novel you were going for. You all but shrieked in surprise, and twirled around to see Crowley lounging on your office chair and Aziraphale pressing up against you with a soft smile on his lips. Crowley was giving the two of you an incredibly soft barely imperceptible smile. Not something you necessarily see a whole lot from him.

“Here, my dear, let me get that for you,” the Angel says softly, grabbing the book and passing it to Crowley, who takes it without question or complaint. You give Aziraphale a confused look. You wanted that. “It’s been quite some time since we heard you singing, love.”

Your cheeks flushed the lightest shade of pink. A nervous giggle bubbled out of you.

“Oh, you heard that, did you?”

“Fraid so, Pet,” Crowley said, a little smirk edging its way onto his features. The Demon discarded his sunglasses on the desk. “Better than Mercury, in my opinion.”

You rolled your eyes and looked back at your Angel, who had been surreptitiously placing one hand on your waist and one in your own. With a look towards Crowley, the Demon leaned over to turn the radio up. You grinned, joy radiating off you in waves. Your lovers seemed to bask in its warmth as Aziraphale led you in a dance. He always did love to dance.

When Aziraphale danced with you, it was soft, and usually some kind of dance he’d learned many years ago and seemed all too determined to bring back to the twenty-first century. When Crowley danced with you it was chaotic and without form, the both of you jumping around and doing whatever seemed to fit the song and the moment. You loved them both.

Crowley stood and came to stand behind you. He wrapped his arms around the both of you, and Aizraphale dropped your waist and your hand to do the same, so you were cocooned in love and affection. You sighed in pure relief, leaning into them.

Crowley started to sway to the music. Back and forth, humming softly to the tune. It was one of your favourites, so he’d heard it plenty of times. More than enough to learn the melody and the words.

You basked in their love for a few more minutes before clearing your throat sadly.

“As much as I am loving this, my tea will be going cold.” Yet you made no movements to escape their embrace.

“No, it won’t,” Crowley replied knowingly, resting his chin on the top of your head as you swayed to the beat. Ah, he’d pulled a miracle to keep your tea and breakfast hot. How thoughtful of him.

“Just five more minutes, my dear?” Aziraphale asked softly, sighing with pleasure into your shoulder. How could you say no to that?

“Five more minutes, then,” you agreed.

292 notes · View notes

sightofsea · 6 months

Note

prompt number 25 for those good omens bitches please AND thank you

thank you so much!!! tried to go for angst but failed. ah well, c'est la vie. it's the spirit of the thing.

25. “It hurts…” “what?” “Loving someone who doesn’t love you…”

“Well it does hurt, is the thing," Crowley says, restarting an argument that had been born outside the theater, raised on the way to the restaurant, and had been on a quick gap year over canapés.

Aziraphale stops fussing with the sleeves of his coat. “What?”

“Loving someone who doesn’t love you, it hurts," Crowley clarifies.

Aziraphale goes back to fussing. "Yes, I suppose it does," he says, then shakes his arms out. Perfect. "But I don't see what that has to do with how dreadful that production of Cyrano was."

Crowley holds the door open for him, and all the warm air inside the restaurant is quickly replaced with a brisk chill that bites the nostrils. Aziraphale says a quick thank you, and Crowley goes back to arguing. He walks along with a small jump in his step, shoulders to his ears as if trying to lift himself off the sidewalk. Aziraphale loops an arm around the demon's elbow, to keep him grounded.

"I'm just saying," Crowley says. "I'm all for criticism. Love criticism, me, but I don't think he was being that overdramatic. It really does feel like that sometimes."

"He was wailing!" Aziraphale argues back. "Rending his garments, throwing himself at the walls--I'm just saying, there's something to a subtle performance."

"Sub--subtle performance?" Crowley lets that percolate in delighted disbelief. "Bit rich coming from you."

Aziraphale's jaw pops open, feet's coming to a standstill, and he unhooks himself from Crowley's arm. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks. It's intended to come off as mildly offended, but lilts a little to the left. Crowley stares at him, and Aziraphale tuts. "Oh...!" He stomps back up to Crowley and hooks their arms together again, bringing them back to their familiar trot. "That is besides the point."

"No it's not," Crowley says. "You love drama. You love those books where they go on in the hillside, waving poetic and, and diving off of cliffs."

"Yes, but that's books," Aziraphale says. "That's fiction in its purest form. This is performance, it must have some grounding in reality. You can't honestly say you've ever acted like that in the name of unrequited love."

Crowley hums, and is quiet for a few moments. They turn into a nearby park, and everybody considered mugging the flash bastard and his posh twat boyfriend suddenly find their wallets heavier and their thoughts elsewhere.

"Maybe I have," Crowley says, all mumbled and high pitched. "Who's to say?"

Aziraphale does a double take. "Really?" Crowley nods, looking straight ahead. Aziraphale hesitantly points to himself. "Over...?"

It's now Crowley's turn to do a double take. "Wh--no, over Napoleon. Yes, over you!"

"Oh, well that makes me feel terrible!" laments Aziraphale, who is beginning to feel something rise up within him that he's too proud to admit to but most would call 'flattered'. "That you did all that screaming and wailing over me."

Crowley shifts as if trying to shed his skin. "Mm."

"All that--all that rending of garments and throwing yourself about." Aziraphale puts his free hand on Crowley's hooked arm. He tuts. "And over me."

Crowley lets put a creaking sound of embarrassment, and tries to wave away his confession with his free hand. "Okay, that's not--"

"That you were overcome by...by such enormous affection and love," Aziraphale continues, near giddy with it now. "For me!"

Crowley stares at him, deadpan. "You're enjoying this."

"I'm not," lies Aziraphale. He schools his face as best he can--which is to say, quite portly. "I'm feeling...quite guilty."

"That's not your guilty face," Crowley says. "That's your...that's a different face. A smug face."

"Not smug," says Aziraphale, smugly.

"Delighted, then."

Aziraphale tuts, shaking his head. "Not in the least. I'm quite overcome with agony, as I imagine you were." Crowley hums in disbelief. "Again, over me."

"Alright, alright," says Crowley, who does his best to gesture wildly with one arm lovingly held captive. "I take it back. I take it all back. There was no wailing or garment rending or any of that. I was perfectly fine with it." He expects a response to come. When it doesn't, he turns to see Aziraphale looking distinctly put out. Something seizes in Crowley's chest, and the words come out before his brain can bar the door. "Okay, I screamed at a tree once about it. Does that satisfy you?"

"Mm," says Aziraphale, still displeased.

"Maybe had a...good cry, or three," admits Crowley.

Aziraphale softens. "Oh, did you really?" he asks, curiosity sliding from smug to concerned.

Crowley bristles at the genuine emotion. "Oh, what, and you didn't?" he asks defensively.

"No, I have," says Aziraphale, soberly. He blinks up at Crowley before surveying the landscape, no doubt imagining lonely nights and cold mornings scattered over many the millennia. Crowley imagines them as well.

"You...so...yeah," he says. He supposes he's won the argument, but it doesn't feel like it. "We both..."

"We've both suffered over each other," Aziraphale says. His voice is heavy with guilt, and not for the first time, the two of them think of the same thing.

Crowley distinctly remembers the slam of the bookshop door, and winces at it. Sounds get clogged in the back of his throat. "Y-Yeah," he says. They walk along another few steps, before stopping. "Not...not any more, though," Crowley adds, half statement and half question. He brings his free hand over Aziraphale's.

Aziraphale squeezes his arm lightly and smiles. "No," he whispers. "Not any more."

Crowley smiles back--because it's dark and there's plausible deniability, because he's in love, who's to say--and moves to cup Aziraphale's face. Aziraphale's already ahead of him. The kiss to short, soft, and simple--a reassurance, more than a declaration. For a moment, there's a break in the chill night air, and all is warm.

They part, and continue their walk in tandem. "You still think the play was shit though, don't you?" Crowley asks.

"Not in so many words," Aziraphale admonishes, which is to say, yes.

#my fic #good omens fic #this was so fun thank you!

290 notes · View notes

embracing-the-ineffable · 7 months

Text

The Ineffable Detective Agency Presents: The Main Bookshop Clock's Hands are BACKWARDS and Other Revelations!

(Good Omens Season 2, Episode 1)

We can't trust the way we've been reading the bookshop clock next to Aziraphale's desk, because the Hands are Reversed* for some (or all?) of the season!!

Plus a Time/Clock Disruption shortly before the double half miracle!

And possibly another Time/Clock Disruption when Gabriel first arrives at the bookshop! Did Gabriel (or whatever he had in the box) cause the hands to reverse?!

And more questions about Gabriel and what Other Thing might be going down in the up!

*Sound unbelievable? To us - @meatballlady and @embracing-the-ineffable at our new @ineffable-detective-agency - too, but let us share our proof:

Welcome to our Ineffable Detective Agency! We've been doing some digging the past few weeks; among our research has been recording each sighting of in-universe timestamps - Crowley's watch, Nina's phone, Maggie's watch, Aziraphale's clocks, and more! Our main findings are summarized here (if you're looking at a reblog, you can check for updates on the most recent version, here), with detailed screenshots below.

Main Findings - Episode 1:

Aziraphale's main bookshop clock next to his desk is frowning for Reasons! Maybe this is one: during most or all of episode 1, the minute hand is the one with the wider arrow, and the hour hand is the thin long one. (Proof is in the very next section, and it changes everything we think we know about reading that clock!)

Edit - New Finding! There may have been a time/clock disruption when Gabriel first arrived at the bookshop, which could have CAUSED the hands to reverse.

There's ALSO a big time/clock disruption when Gabriel appears at the top of the stairs, after the apology dance and before the double-half-miracle. Perhaps the clock's ability to show the time accurately is disrupted by something like a powerful 25-Lazarii miracle?

Shax and Crowley initially discuss something "going down in the up", far sooner than when Gabriel shows up in the bookshop. ("my arms were aching 'cause I had to carry that box for so long....")

Shax later tells Crowley that the previously-discussed trouble involves Gabriel, and even that conversation next to the Bentley (at 10:35 or 11:35) was well before Gabriel arrived at the bookshop (at 4:20, no matter how you read the clock's hands; screenshot below). Is there some OTHER trouble in heaven that started before Gabriel left?

Or, if Gabriel's arrival caused a time/clock disruption, perhaps Aziraphale forgave Maggie's rent at 11:23 and Gabriel arrived shortly after, which lines up more neatly with Crowley's 10:35 or 11:35 phone call/conversation with Shax.

This all might mean the time jump (or clock disruption) after The Kiss is different than we thought. (Yes, we know Neil is misdirecting everyone about there being a time jump at all by calling it a "continuity error"; he's performing magic for us, and we're still in the middle of his act! His misdirection is part of the trick!) The times are still weird in the last episode, whether you read them the typical way or the new, reversed way that we're suggesting, and we're still working on getting clearer images. Stay tuned - or help us research!

Quick sidenote: If anyone would like to verify our work or join in future sleuthing (ESPECIALLY IF YOU CAN VIEW/ SCREENCAP IN 4K), we would be very grateful!!

Now, let's talk about the clock hands.

Typically, in typical clocks all over the typical world, the hand with the big wide arrow is for the hours, and the thin long hand points to the minutes. But the main bookshop clock next to Aziraphale's desk is frowning, so who knows what it's doing? Here's the A-B-C sequence from episode 1 that convinced us to read the hands in reverse:

A) Jim shows up naked, knocks, and Azi stops his music with a dramatic groan. Both clock hands point to 4, so this should be 4:20 no matter what hand is for the minutes:

B) Jim tries hot chocolate when the wide arrow hand has traveled just past the 5. This is either 4:26 (reversed) or 5:20 (typical):

C) Aziraphale opens the box, and Gabriel says "I love you". It's now 4:30 (reversed) or a misaligned 6:20 (typical):

Ok, the sequence of A) Jim arrives, B) Jim drinks hot chocolate, C) Jim says "I love you", fills about 6 minutes of onscreen time. If we assume A-B-C makes more sense as 4:20-4:26-4:30 than 4:20-5:20-6:20, that means the wide arrow hand is sweeping across the minutes and NOT indicating hours!

Those three time points are also bookended by the moments Azi reads Maggie's note and forgives her rent, and later, Crowley's discovery of Jim in the bookshop:

As Azi reads Maggie's note, let's play "spot the clock":

Did you see it?! Yep, we catch a tiny glimpse of the clock through a space in the bookshelf, in what might be the most cleverly concealed but clearly deliberate bit of staging in the entire season (!!). If you've been thinking that we're looking too closely at little unimportant details that don't matter, the way the clock is so carefully made visible here - and in focus - strongly suggests to us that this is important:

It looks like 3:58 (reversed) or 11:20 (typical); given that Azi is interrupted while listening to his 21 minutes of Shostakovich at 4:20, it would make sense that he read the note at 3:58. That means the wide arrow hand is reversed, pointing at the minutes there, too.

[ Edit: BUT, there's also this moment, when Maggie's rent is forgiven; her watch shows 11:23 or possibly a reversed 4:57 (turn it the way Maggie would read it):

So one more possibility is that the bookshop clock hands were typical when the episode started, Azi read the note at 11:20, and forgave Maggie's rent at 11:23. Then when Gabriel showed up, the bookshop clock jumped ahead to 4:20 and its hands reversed!? ]

Later, Crowley meets Aziraphale at the coffeeshop, then they return to the bookshop. Right after "I. Am. Dusting." - there's the OTHER bookshop clock on the west side of the building. It's hard to see, possibly 5? That could fit with Azi and Crowley meeting at the coffeeshop sometime shortly after 4:30pm.

So, if we continue reading the main bookshop clock in reverse, let's see what else happens in episode 1:

Maggie and Nina, trapped in the coffee shop, are freed by Crowley. Just before Nina's phone starts receiving messages, it reads 21:02 (ie, 9:02pm):

During the apology dance, the clock behind Aziraphale says 9:06 (remember! read the hands in reverse!) This makes sense, if Nina's phone said 9:02 a few minutes earlier:

The clock behind Crowley (the one on the west side of the bookshop) says 9:02 or a misaligned 11:45; if its wider arrow hand points to hours like a typical clock, and not like the sad reversed clock next to the desk, then it could be reading 9:02, possibly a few minutes slower than the desk clock:

Then Jim appears at the top of the stairs and nothing makes sense; the sad clock next to the desk looks like it says 12:40 - a forward jump of 3 hours and 36 minutes!! (Alternatively, it says 8:02, which means it went backwards by an hour! Either way, it's weird, and we'd love a better picture if you can get one!):

And the clock still shows the same time after the miracle, just before the episode ends:

As episode 1 ends, we certainly have even more questions. Did time jump when Gabriel first arrived?! And again, after the apology dance? Or were there whole scenes or conversations that we didn't see? Or did time actually jump forwards or backwards in that moment? Or was the main bookshop clock's ability to accurately show the time interrupted by something like Gabriel's arrival with the mysterious contents of his box, and again by a powerful 25-Lazarii miracle before the double-half-miracle??!

There are 5 episodes to go! Will our sad bookshop clock consistently tell time with reversed hands for the rest of the season? Maybe! Is it becoming untethered from Actual Time as it reacts to the Eldritch forces around it? Possibly!

And what about our other findings? What ELSE is going on in Heaven? Where did Gabriel go after he left, and how long did that take? How long does the elevator ride last? Why was his box heavy, and what was inside?

Stay tuned for the details as we collect them! We'll add links to new posts here, so check the latest version for any updates! And please get in touch with @meatballlady or @embracing-the-ineffable if you would like to help with sleuthing, including getting better resolution screencaps of clocks and all the tiny watches!

Be well, fellow ineffables! Solve Clues and share your findings!

PS: There's a huge list of Clues and metas, here!

#good omens meta #good omens analysis #Ineffable Detective Agency #Ineffable discontinuity #good omens timeline #Good omens clocks #Good omens mystery #good omens clues #Clues with a capital C #good omens screencaps #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 #timey wimey #renew good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens gabriel #good omens

223 notes · View notes

inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 4 months

Text

Crowley X Reader: To love and be loved

This is purely self indulgente

Warnings: fluff, heartbreak, happy ending

Word count:1,8K

He’s not used to this feeling. He knows what it is, well at least he thinks he does, but he’s still not accustomed to it.

Love is weird.

Crowley had always thought that and this situation just seemed to prove it. He loved Aziraphale. It had taken him eons to admit it to himself but he knew it was true. But as much as he loved Aziraphale he also loved you. A demon in love with an angel and a human. It’s funny how life works. He still hadn’t told you how he felt. His heart was still recovering from Azi’s rejection. But despite the heartbreak he knew you’d be much more open to his love than Aziraphale had been. You’d stuck around, after all. Which was more than he could say for the Angel. Crowley could still feel the warmth of your body as you stood beside him that day as you both watched Aziraphale leave. He missed the feeling of having you near. You’d tried to reach him but he was making it absurdly hard for you. Crowley wanted to be alone and at the same time he wanted someone to hold him.

Was this how humans felt after a breakup? Odd little creatures.

It took some time but Crowley finally caved. He drove over to your apartment, parking the Bentley somewhere safe before going to knock at your door. He turned to look at the street as he waited for you to open the door, his eyes catching on the bookshop on the other side. It wasn’t your fault you lived right in front of it. It was why you’d ended up meeting the two of them in the first place. It finally hit Crowley why he’d put this off for so long. As much as he wanted to see you he couldn’t deal with the thought of coming back here and finding the bookshop empty.

Crowley didn’t hear you unlock the door. He didn’t hear it screech open either. You glanced at the Demons characteristic red locks, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest at the sight. You went to place your hand on Crowley's shoulders, stopping for a moment as you realized just what he was staring at. You moved closer to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Crowley moved his head to the side, his nose bumping against your cheek. He closed his eyes, taking in your familiar scent. He loved when you hugged him like this.

“Long time no see.”

“Sorry about that dove.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.”

Crowley hummed against your skin as you gave a kiss to his shoulder blade, despite his coat he felt the pressure of your lips against his skin. You were always so affectionate with him. It had taken him a while to get used to it but now he couldn’t see himself living without your caresses.

“Wanna come inside?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll make some coffee.”

Crowley sat on your armchair, his legs slung on top of your coffee table as he watched you move around in the kitchen. You hummed as you worked making the Demon smile. He rose from his seat moving over to your record collection. He skimmed through the vinyls searching for the right one. Once he’d found it he went over to your record player, placing the disc in before turning the machine on. Your head turned to face him as you heard “Good Old-fashioned lover boy” begin to play. You smiled at Crowley, watching as he moved over to you.

“Queen huh?”

“Heard you humming it.”

“Ah I see.”

You placed the rag you had been holding on the counter. Crowley watched you sway your body to the rhythm cautiously for a moment before starting to dance without hesitation. He grinned at you his head bopping to the beat. You stuck your hand out to him walking backwards into the living room. He gave you a dubious glance, silently asking what you were doing.

“Well, aren’t you going to dance with me?”

“Oh I don't dance.”

“Bullshit.”

Crowley looked at you, his eyes moving over your features sadly. Before the memories could get him down he gave you his hand.

“Oh what the hell.”

You laughed as Crowley spun you around. The two of you moved around the living room, each one dancing in their own weird way. Everyonce in a while you'd bump into each other causing you to have a fit of laughter. Neither of you thought anything of it when your skin grazed the other, you were used to having close contact with each other. And then something changed. You bumped into Crowley for what felt like the hundredth time but this time instead of nudging him with your limps you managed to collide into his body, causing his arms to wrap around you.

“Careful dove.”

“Sorry.”

You raised your head, eyes falling on Crowley's yellow orbs. You hadn't noticed he’d taken off his glasses. Your hand found its way to his cheek, one finger tracinging over the mark near his ear. The Demon stared down at you observing the way your eyelids fluttered lightly as you caressed him, your lips parted in a way that allowed him to feel your breath against his skin. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, the steady thrum soothing him. You didn’t break eye contact, allowing Crowley's eyes to lure you in. The Demon started to become self conscious causing him to lower his gaze. You called out his name placing a finger under his chin. He raised his head to look at you. He looked so scared. You’d rarely seen him look so uncertain of himself.

“You’re very pretty, you know that?”

You weren’t really sure why you’d said that. It had just come out. Crowley's brows creased as he looked at you. Here you were holding him in your arms in the middle of your living room and telling him he looked pretty. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. He didn’t really know how to react. You moved your head up slightly, eyes shifting back and forth as you inched your face closer to Crowleys. When the Demon didn’t move away from you in anger you decided to go for it. Your lips grazed Crowleys as you laid a gentle kiss to his mouth. You opened your eyes, pulling away. Your gaze fell on Crowley's shocked expression, your own eyes widening as you realized what you’d just done.

“Oh shit. Crowley, I'm so sorry.”

You backed away unlatching yourself from Crowley as you stumbled backwards. You put your hands over your face covering it in embarrassment.

“Fuck.”

Letting out an angry groan you forced yourself to look at Crowley. He still had the same expression plastered on his face. You bit your lip as you tried to formulate the right thing to say.

“Crowley listen i’m really-”

He was sick of hearing you say sorry. He was sick of the way you avoided his gaze. He needed to feel you again. Needed to have you close to him. With two long strides the Demon had made his way over to you, one of his hands gripping onto your hip as the other wound itself in your hair. Crowley shoved his lips against yours, hungrily devouring the gasp that left your mouth. You clung onto Crowley's jacket in desperation. He kissed you in a bruising manner, hands trying to hold onto whatever of you he could reach. His hands were cold against your skin, something you’d become used to over the years. In your despair you and Crowley had managed to make your way to the other side of the living room. Your ass bumped into the record player causing the needle to scratch against the vinyl in a grating noise. The sound made you and Crowley cover your ears, hands detaching from each other. The Demon let out a frustrated groan moving to lift the needle.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Crowley set the needle back down on the disc in a random spot. A small sigh left the Demon's lips as “Somebody to love” started playing. You noticed the way Crowley's body sagged a bit causing you to frown.

“Crowley here let me change-”

“Listen.”

The Demon's hand held onto your wrist, stopping you from switching the track that was playing. You didn’t understand why he wanted to keep listening to this song. After everything that had happened in the past few weeks you would have thought that a love song was the last thing he would want to hear. Crowley's fingers trailed up your arm making you look at his face. You watched as he observed the way his fingers moved over your skin. He was thinking about something. Really thinking about it. You wondered what exactly could make the line between his brows appear so predominant. You placed your hand over Crowley’s causing him to look at you. You smiled at the Demon beginning to nod your head to the beat of the song.

“Find me somebody to love. Come on Crowley sing it with me.”

“Find me somebody to love.”

“There you go.”

You sang the words together. While you sang with your whole heart Crowley sang with a bit more hesitancy. You didn’t hold it against him though. He'd been through a lot. Even if the words were part of lyrics they still held a deeper meaning. You knew that. Maybe that was what made you sing with such passion. Maybe it’s what made you keep your eyes focused on Crowley's face as you sang. Because it meant something. And you wanted him to know that.

“Can anybody find me somebody to…..love.”

“Already did.”

“Oh Crowley. Azi’s a fool he’s a big-”

“I’m not talking about the Angel.”

Your brows creased in confusion. Crowley loved Aziraphale. You’d known if from the moment you’d laid eyes on them. So if he wasn’t talking about him who could he be-oh oh. Crowley moved closer to you, placing his hand on your chin. You gazed up at him, eyes moving back and forth as your brain struggled to compute what this meant. The Demon leaned his head down slightly. He was going to take it slow this time. Give you time to push him away if that’s what you wanted. He wouldn’t fuck up again. He knew better now. Crowley called out your name. You realized you hadn’t said anything for a while.You cursed yourself for reacting so slowly. You’d forgotten that Crowley had developed trust issues because of Aziraphale. He wasn’t going to be the one to make the final move. He couldn’t handle another heartbreak so he was leaving it up to you to decide what happened next.

“Crowley…”

The Demon prepared himself to pull away from you. He’d already begun to back away when you let out a breathy whisper.

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly. His mind had a way of playing games with him recently. But then your lips were on his and your hands were winding around his neck and he just knew. He knew this was real. You were real. You loved him. And that was more than enough.

#aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #anthony j crowley #crowley x reader #crowley #good omens fic #good omens crowley #good omens fanfiction #good omens #crowley x you #crowley deserves better #crowley good omens #david tennant #david tennant x you #david tennant x reader #crowley fluff #angel aziraphale #go2 #fanfiction

190 notes · View notes

denaliwrites · 5 months

Text

Lockdown Blues

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Summary: Remember that time everyone went crazy and made sourdough?

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Enough baked goods to make exactly 8 human stomachs explode.

"Right," a voice said from behind you.

You shrieked, whirling around and brandishing your hairbrush in defense... only to see Crowley standing there, giving you a look caught between amusement and confusion.

"Hgk."

"Fucking hell, Crowley, you can't just randomly appear in people's bedrooms," you said with a sigh. You put your brush down so that you could rub your temples. "I know you're a demon and all, but I didn't think I'd need to explain this."

"You -- oh, shut up," he growled, waving at you dismissively. "It's an emergency. Pack your cat." He paused, thoughtfully. "... And a bag, I s'pose."

"And where do you think I'll be going? The whole continent's closed."

"I'm taking you to the bookshop, where you will be staying until this damned lockdown blows over."

"I -- Crowley, you can't just come here and drag me away to be held hostage in the bookshop."

Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes. "I -- look -- I told you it was an emergency, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but then you just left it there? If you could elaborate, that'd be great.

He sighed again. "It's -- listen -- the angel -- Aziraphale is getting... weird."

You blinked rapidly a few times. "He's... he's what?"

"No time," Crowley said, coming to herd you up. "C'mon. Grab the cat. Grab some essentials. Let's go."

You reluctantly did as you were told, doing your best to pack some clothes, toiletries, a laptop, a fussy cat, and a few other things, all while an antsy demon followed you around urging you to move faster. You had half a mind to be annoyed, but you could tell Crowley was strangely serious about this, and that stopped you.

For the most part, at least.

Finally, you'd gathered everything you needed into three bags plus Ralph's carrier. Crowley, without any prompting, took the two biggest bags into his hands, then held out his elbow for you to take.

With nothing but a rucksack over one shoulder and Ralph's carrier in the opposite hand, you wound your free hand around Crowley's twiggy little arm, and the two of you vanished with a whoosh.

Only to appear, near instantaneously, within the confines of the bookshop.

You took a moment to remind yourself how to breathe before you crouched down and set the cat carrier on the floor. Ralph growled, no doubt a little wigged out from the disorienting mode of travel, but the moment you opened the carrier, he trotted out like nothing had happened.

"Crybaby," you sighed affectionately before pushing yourself back up to a stand. "Okay, where's the angel?"

You were hit rather suddenly with two realizations -- number one, Crowley was gone, and number two, you could smell... well, the best way to describe it was a fully stocked bakery. The scent was overwhelmingly of the general concept of bread, but you could smell sweeter treats as well -- vanilla, cinnamon, cooked fruits, chocolate, and so on.

Well, that didn't really bode particularly well, did it?

You hesitantly made your way up the stairs in the back and into the flat, wandering until you found the kitchen. Crowley was there, standing against the wall with Ralph held gently in his arms. How either of them had managed to get up here without you noticing, you didn't know.

At the stove, simmering what smelled like what would eventually be blackcurrant jam, stood Aziraphale. He whipped around at the sound of Ralph's hungry meow and jumped when he saw you all standing there, staring at him.

"You weren't kidding," you said, throwing a look over to Crowley. "He really has gone weird."

"I know," Crowley responded. He made a sound at the back of his throat as he nodded his head towards the angel. "That's why we're having this intervention."

"I'm sorry, this what?" Aziraphale yelped. "Please! You're so dramatic, Crowley. Here, dear," he said, turning towards you with a pastry in hand. "Try this?"

You shot another look to Crowley, silently asking permission. He only sighed and rolled his eyes in response, so you shrugged and took a bite. It was...

Well, he'd clearly made it by hand.

He was watching you, and you knew he wanted your opinion, and you knew he wanted it honest, but you'd never had the heart to give him bad news, so you smiled and put a thumb up.

"Oh, good!" he said cheerfully.

When he turned around to return to his jam, you quickly motioned for Crowley to get you some water. He miracled you a glass and handed it over, and you drank it in three long drags.

"Bit heavy on the salt?" he asked quietly, to which you replied with a vigorous nod.

"What was that, dear?" Aziraphale asked.

"Nothing!" you and Crowley both said.

This was ridiculous, you thought. You could tell Aziraphale he was using too much salt. That was easy. Right? Right. You sucked in a deep breath to prepare yourself, and then released it in one big huff.

"Maybe -- erm, maybe, I think, it could use..."

"Yes, dear?" Aziraphale asked, turning to look at you with such loving eyes, so trusting and beautiful.

Fuck.

"Nothing. I was wrong. Sorry. Continue."

He smiled so joyfully as he turned back to his jam.

You chanced a glance at Crowley, who was glaring at you.

"Coward," he hissed.

"I know," you whimpered, burying your face in your hands.

#aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x you #crowley x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #michael sheen #david tennant

211 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 2 months

Note

hello there!! first of all this blog is absolutely amazing tysm for all the work put into it :)) secondly, do you have any recommendations for fics where crowley or aziraphale confess before metatron entered the scene (e.g. aziraphale confesses sometime at the ball/crowley confesses at the “smitten” scene)? again, thank you so much 💖

Hi! Here are some fics in which love confessions happen earlier...

just thinking of you, i know i’ve loved you from the start by ineffablyseraphic (G)

"Angel, what is going on?" Crowley growled, keeping his voice low. Aziraphale felt his heart jump as he did so. "Nothing, my dear boy," He assured, "We’re just having a ball. Jane Austen, remember?" Crowley scoffed. "We both know this won't work. This isn't the 1800s anymore. People just don't… fall in love with some froofy violins and choreographed dance moves." — or basically my take if the demons didn’t storm the bookshop and aziraphale got to confess.

A Dance Of Our Own by LynFraser09 (T)

He slid his hand down Aziraphale’s arm to grab his hand and then with his other hand, snapped, and the record player scratched as it came to life. Aziraphale’s face lit up in a smile and he squeezed Crowley's hand and slipped his other arm around him as the familiar music floated into the bookshop. OR An Alternate Scene where the Demons don't attack the bookshop that night and Crowley and Aziraphale share a dance and something more.

Smitten by chaoticstreamer (T)

"When Gabriel smites you, you've been... smited? Smote?" "Smitten, I believe." Aziraphale was viscerally aware that his face was showing more than he ought, yet how could he have stopped? Aziraphale's heart was beating unnecessarily, the notepad clutched in his hands tighter as he smiled at Crowley. Yes, smitten was the word. ------‐---------------------------------------------------------- Or, What if the demons hadn't attacked? What if Metatron hadn't come down... what if they had confessed?

no one's got what we've got going by shrack (G)

Nina asks Crowley if Aziraphale is his partner. Crowley thinks he would like it if Aziraphale was. or: Crowley confesses at Marguerite's before The Ball.

we should just kiss like real people do by lesbicosmos (G)

imagine if the bookshop dance scene didn't get interrupted by demons. this is that fic.

blame it on the boogie by hannotsolo (T)

“A slow dance?!” “Yes, a slow dance!” —————————- What if Shax never got to interrupt the ball and things got a whole lot more romantic.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #love confession #first kiss #kissing #canon divergence #short fic #mod d

91 notes · View notes