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thegoblinboy · 4 months

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Eddie skims the books on the shelf in front of him, there was no use in trying to find one he was actually interested in. He was just going to end up forgetting about it and picking up one of the lord of the rings books again. Instead he just lets himself wander through his thoughts. Letting his body go in autopilot as his fingers gently brush the spines of dozens of books.

He should be in gym class, but he isn’t. The consequences of skipping were far better than those of actually showing up. The last time he went (over a month ago now) he ended up walking out with a chipped tooth and black eye. And he can’t forget about the bruised ego.

Walking at the end of one aisle, he carefully turns and moves himself into the next. Preparing to loop through said aisle again but nearly jumping out of his skin when he nearly falls over another person. A person who was sitting down, back pressed to the shelf he was walking the corner of.

A croak like noise comes out of the back of his throat as he nearly tumbles face first into carpeting. Stumbling forward a bit and catching balance on the shelf to the left of him. Secretly praying to all that’s holy that he didn’t somehow know the entire shelf over.

“Jesus H Christ.” He spits out, a hand pressed against his chest as he dramatically breathes heavier then normal. Putting on a show for whoever nearly killed him. Turning around to face the culprit he nearly jumps back again startled.

Sitting, pretty pathetically Eddie would say, was a very beat up Steve Harrington. Who looked like a horror book came to life. His eyes, or eye was a bit glossed over and wide as he starts stuttering over his words a bit. Obviously having a moment before Eddie came along and crashed the party.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip you up like that.” Steve visibly cringes at his own words, as if he was also aware he seemed pathetic.

“Eh- it’s alright. Not the first time a king has tried taking me out.” He grins, before faltering a bit as he remembers that the other wouldn’t understand his DnD campaign reference.

He begins to walk away, wanting the entire awkward interaction to be over. But he can’t help but be just a bit nosy as his eyes glance down at the book in Steve’s lap. It probably had been open at one point, but it was now closed and Eddie is secretly thankful he can read upside down.

“Head injuries huh?” He points out. “Didn’t take you for a reader King Steve.” He drags the other’s name out a bit longer than he has to as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocking a hip out. He didn’t personally enjoy talking with asshole jocks, but what he did enjoy was knowing some things. He liked having some lore for the people around him.

“I’m not.” Steve snorts as he lifts the book up. “Just trying to do some research, I don’t know if you have eyes or anything but my face is pretty smashed in right now.” He retorts back with a little bit of sass. Eddie notes how his words slur up a bit, like he was drunk. But Eddie could spot a drunk anywhere and Steve Harrington seemed a hundred percent sober.

Furrowing his eyebrows, just a bit concerned he doesn’t let up the banter. Purposely forcing his eye lids open with one hand and jokingly pressing the finger tip against his eye before pulling back. Blinking the tears out of his slightly agitated right eye as he brings two thumbs up and comments, “we are in the clear I, Eddie Munson, let the record show, have eyeballs.” He grins dramatically.

“Want a gold star for that poncho.” Steve snorts, shaking his head a bit obviously amused. His body tensed up a bit as he goes a bit pale for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut with shaky breathes as his fists tighten around the book he was holding.

“Yes I do in fact want a gold star-” Eddie mumbles out gently, face scrunching up a bit more worried now as he moves his crossed arms from off his chest and moves a few steps closer to the other.

“Hey Harrington, you alright? You don’t seem like your typical charming self.” He comments as he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down. Leaving a few inches between the two of them.

Steve gives a weak nod of his head before he adjusting himself. “Yeah- just moves my head too much. Happens sometimes you know?” He chuckles gently.

“Oh thank god, you were looking a little green. Was worried you were about to hulk out on me buddy.” Eddie jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Lifting his hand up and running one of his rings against the bottom of his lip before glancing back down at the book.

“Find anything good in there, or are you just holding it for show?” Eddie asks gently, trying to come off a bit more teasing.

Steve snorts again, sounding a bit stressed as he nearly shakes his head no again but stopped ps himself. “No, couldn’t even make it through the first page without wanting to throw up.” He groans as he quickly adds. “Not because I don’t want to read it, it’s just the words won’t sit still and it hurts my eyes which then hurts my head.” He groans as he opens his eyes back up fully and looks down at the book with a little huff.

“Could always get a nerd to do your homework for you,” Eddie jokes, slightly hinting towards Wheeler. “Heard that girlfriend of yours had a decent brain on her, she seems like the type to understand that you’ll need help.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the other.

Steve makes a noise that Eddie can’t even place, it sounded like the mixture of a laugh and a snort combined. “Can’t, I’m pretty sure she cheated on me with Byers. Don’t want to feel any more stupid around her.” He mumbles the last sentence out.

Eddie looks a bit surprised, he hadn’t taken Mrs Priss to be a cheater. Though he furrows his eyebrows again in thought. “If you give me a twenty I’ll read that book for you and try answering any questions you have.”

Eddie didn’t want to seem completely like a sweetheart, he had to keep up the image he had going on or else people wouldn’t take him seriously during deals. And he didn’t want to ruin said image to Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve squints his good eye at Eddie suspiciously, “I’ll pay you a hundred if you don’t mention this to anybody else.”

Eddie feels a little bit shitty for doing this but an image had to be kept.

“You’ve got yourself a deal Harrington.” His grin isn’t fully authentic as he takes the book from the other and does a playful salute as he stands up fully and begins to walk away.

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aidaran-alha · 2 months

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A gleafer based fanfic! Go check her tumblr and her patreon, she’s totally worth it:

https://www.tumblr.com/gleafer

https://www.patreon.com/posts/when-that-thing-98602324

One day Crowley was bound to drink himself to another dimension. What he didn't expect was to find another Crowley and Aziraphale there: two alternate versions of him and the angel that had somehow made things work between them.

---------------------- “Oh, poor dear.” Again Aziraphale pulled him close. “Believe me when I say your Aziraphale went to Heaven to protect you. He does love you.”

“You can’t know. You don’t know him.”

“Maybe. But I know myself. And I wouldn’t sacrifice this place of mine for anything other than you, Crowley.”

“He’s not you. I don’t have what you two have. He didn’t want me.”

Crowley had probably never looked less cool than he was looking at this moment. Shivering, mouth closed in a thin line and trembling. His eyes burned so much he’d had to close them while the tears flowed, clinging to Aziraphale and the Other Crowley as pathetic little noises escaped his throat.

He was sober for what he felt was the first time in months, and he was suffering it. He was overflowing with pain, anger, envy, and hate.

With love. Need. Want.

#fanfic #fic #good omens #good omens smut #good omens after dark #post season 2 #ineffable husbands #inefabble idiots #two crowleys one aziraphale #feels #lots and lots of feels #and smut #hurt and comfort #did I mention healing smut?

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coolittleguy · 3 months

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The difference of pre season 2 and post is wild dude

#good omens #david tennant #good omens season 2 #i love good omens #michael sheen #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #good omens 2 #crowley #good omens broke me #good omens brainrot #send help #post season 2 #neil the gay man

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phoen1xr0se · 1 month

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Sooooo close to the end now!

Chapter 42 of Don't Fall Away From Me is up on AO3!! (M)

Summary: Not all endings are happy - but we learned that a long time ago.

Art Credit: @wisesnail 🥰

Author's Note:

The majority of the chapter you are about to read was written through broken sobs in a wild frenzy at 2am at the beginning of November last year, and that was when I knew how this story was going to end. I've been working my way towards it ever since. This whole story has meant a lot to me - those of you that know me well already know that writing this fic literally saved my life, I wouldn't still be here without it - and this is the chapter I have been most excited (and anxious!) to share with you all.

I want to say an especially big thank you to everyone who has left comments and encouragement on AO3 - I can't overstate enough that you literally saved my life.

I'm not adding an excerpt for this chapter, because it needs to be read in its entirety, and is impossible to share any of it without spoilers.

This chapter means so much to me and I really, really hope you like it.

🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍

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deeennnyyy · 1 month

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You are tired, you are hurt

A moth ate through your favorite shirt

#crowley #good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens fanart #crowley good omens #david tennant #david tennant fanart #post season 2 #good omens s2 #go2 #go2 fanart #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #art #my artwrok #artists on tumblr #Spotify

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moominmammaonheroin · 15 days

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Errrmm Good Omens post season 2 I suppose, I really need a bearded Aziraphale

#good omens #goodomens fanart #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #fanart #michael sheen #david tennant #post season 2

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mimisempai · 6 months

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A time for everything

Summary

Loki was at peace with himself. He had sacrificed himself of his own free will to give everyone the chance to live as they chose.

As he watches over the timelines, he's grown accustomed to living with the void left by the loss of his friends and one person in particular.

But unexpected help may change the course of events.

Notes

POV of Loki reuniting with Mobius and the continuation of their story together.

On Ao3

Rating G - 2020 words

"Let the time pass."

Mobius' voice echoed up to him, flying through the timelines, louder than all the other voices.

Loki smiled slightly, closed his eyes, swallowed his tears and exhaled deeply.

He had so much time now.

At the heart of the temporal flux, he felt all the lives that could continue to exist, free.

He had done what he had to do for all of them.

Never again would anyone be eliminated, wiped out, replaced because they hadn't followed the path that determined their destiny.

Never again would anyone's memory be erased because they had made the wrong choice, the wrong decision.

There would be no more fate. No more destiny. No more predestined choice.

"You could be whoever or whatever you wanted."

Now they could all be whoever or whatever they wanted.

Good or bad. Hero or villain.

Not because someone else decided.

Free to choose and live with the consequences of their choices.

That was what he had done for them and for himself.

And since it was about living with the consequences of your choices, Loki, alone with himself, couldn't ignore the consequences of his own choices. He hated people who lied to themselves, so he wouldn't lie to himself by ignoring the void left by the loss of his friends.

The loss of a friend.

The loss of a love.

The loss of Mobius.

But sacrifice meant nothing when there was nothing to lose.

Mobius.

His ultimate sacrifice.

So he could choose to live his life the way he wanted to.

"What if his choice was you?"

Loki shook his head, closing his eyes and choosing to ignore the thought. Searching deep inside of himself for peace, he slowly let it slip away.

He could not and would not go back.

Even though the feeling of loss seemed unbearable, he was truly at peace with the choice he'd made.

For the first time he'd made a choice in full consciousness. Not driven by outside forces, or by a desire for revenge, or for some unlikely glory, just a completely selfless choice because only he could make it.

He would endure it, however painful it might be...

For them.

For him.

"Let the time pass."

Mobius' voice echoed inside him, and he let time take its course.

The timelines unfolded as they would.

Secured by the tree, by him in the heart of the tree.

The passage of time didn't erase the absence, but the awareness of those lives unfolding, free under his care, was enough to remove the sting and turn it into a phantom pain.

Until one day he couldn't feel it anymore.

"Idiot."

A voice, clearer than all the others, louder, sharper, as if addressed to him, snapped him out of his meditation.

He searched the timeline for the source of the voice, but every time he thought he had reached it, it seemed to disappear like sand between his fingers. Like it jumped from one time line to the next.

"In your new wisdom, there's still something you haven't learned."

There was no longer any doubt that the voice was really speaking to him. It had a familiar tone, but Loki couldn't remember who it belonged to.

He called out softly, "Who are you?"

He scanned the timeline, waiting for an answer, when suddenly the voice sounded again, clear and loud.

"Deep down, you know it."

Loki closed his eyes, trying to concentrate deep inside, and felt a familiar aura.

His own.

Opening his eyes, he called out, "Loki."

"Good answer," the voice replied as the elder Loki materialized in front of him.

"You!"

"Me."

"But how? Why?"

Loki was so astonished to see this variant that he could only ask, "What are you doing here?"

The elder Loki replied gently, "By doing what you have, you have freed us, so I'm here to offer you some of that freedom in return. You do not have to carry this burden alone."

Loki shook his head, "But how?"

The other Loki replied softly, "Same aura, same powers."

He gently grabbed one of the timelines, which glowed a faint green at his touch to illustrate his point.

Loki, overwhelmed as he began to understand the implications of what the older Loki was suggesting, asked, "How long?"

The other Loki replied quietly, "As long as you need, a lifetime, who knows? Nothing has to be final. There are so many others like us that we can teach, and so the burden will be carried by all of us."

He raised an eyebrow at Loki and added, "So? What are you saying?"

Loki didn't have to think long and nodded slowly.

He stood and held out his hands to the old Loki. The other Loki did the same and, pressing their palms together, they nodded together.

"Now."

Time flowed fluidly from Loki to the elder Loki, and when Loki was sure that the time flow had stabilized, he helped him to the throne.

He bowed to him and said softly, "Thank you, my friend."

The other Loki nodded gently and said with a half-smile on his lips, "Go. Go be with him."

Of course, the old bugger had seen through him.

Loki straightened up and headed for Mobius' timeline, but before he laid a hand on it, he turned to the other Loki and said in a determined voice, "I'll be back.

The other Loki nodded and replied with a smile, "I'm sure you will. I know you."

Loki chuckled softly, grabbed the timeline, and dove in with only one thought on his mind.

Mobius.

He opened his eyes and found himself on a beach, facing the sea.

But he was immediately oblivious to everything around him, for all he could see was the familiar figure standing in front of him with his back to him.

He quickly used magic to change his clothes into something more appropriate, and barefoot he approached in silence, restraining himself from running.

Suddenly, he heard Mobius' voice, almost a whisper in the night, "Loki..."

Loki replied softly, "I'm here."

"So old Loki is replacing you and keeping the time flow going?"

On Mobius' sofa, their hands still intertwined, Loki nodded. Mobius asked again, slightly hesitant, "And... it's permanent?"

Loki shook his head and replied in a slightly contrite tone, "No, I wouldn't be able to do that to him, and I don't want to let go of that responsibility. I hope you understand that, Mobius."

Mobius looked at him with an expression that was a mixture of pride and wonder and said quietly, "When I told you that you could be whatever or whoever you wanted to be, I wasn't thinking about this."

Loki laughed slightly and replied, "I know that, but that's part of it. You showed me that I could choose my own destiny. That's what I did."

Mobius lost his smile and asked, "Does that mean you're leaving again?"

Loki, sensing the vulnerability of the other man behind his question, asked softly in reply, "What do you want? Do you want me to stay?"

Mobius shook his head sharply and replied, "I have no right to ask you that! Your task is far more important, Loki."

Mobius didn't say more important than himself, but Loki heard it anyway.

He looked at him fondly and said softly, "Idiot. I know what I want. But I also want to know what you want, Mobius. Not what your conscience or your scruples tell you to say because you think that's what I want to hear. So I repeat, what do you want?"

Seeing that Mobius looked confused, he added, "You have the right to say what you want. Free will is about that too. It's not about looking at jet ski magazines and thinking they're great, but not allowing yourself to ride them because it's not appropriate. Tell me what you want, Mobius."

He watched Mobius open and close his mouth several times, seeing his inner struggle so clearly because he'd been through it himself not so long ago.

"I want my friends back. I don't wanna be alone."

It had torn his guts out to say those simple words, so yes, he understood exactly how Mobius felt right now. So he gently stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, "Come on, Mobius. Let go. Tell me. I promise I'll take it all."

Suddenly, Mobius took a deep breath and said in a weak voice, "I want you to stay."

Loki let out a sigh of relief and, squeezing Mobius' hand in his own, replied gently, "Well done. Now, do you want to hear what I want?"

Mobius nodded slowly, and Loki replied, still gently, "I want to stay too."

"But... the flow of time, the timelines..."

Loki replied calmly, "The elder Loki has offered me the opportunity to share this burden, he has generously told me to take all the time I need. I'll do it, but I should also come back sometime, I already have an idea of what we can do, so if you can accept some time apart, I..."

Mobius interrupted, "I can, if it means seeing you again."

Loki's smile widened as he replied, "Then I only have one question left."

"What's that?"

"May I stay here?"

Realizing the implication of Loki's question, Mobius didn't answer immediately and looked at their intertwined hands, then looked up and asked Loki, pointing at their hands, "What's that?"

Loki replied quietly, "What do you want it to be?"

Mobius breathed, "I don't know."

"That's all right. We don't have to decide now. We have something we didn't have before. We have time."

Mobius looked so lost as he replied, "Having so many choices, so many possibilities, it's both exhilarating and suffocating at the same time. I realize that I haven't stopped to think about what I really want since I've been here. I've never had to before. Now that I can, it's like I have a variant to catch, and I have so many leads I don't know which one to follow."

Loki put his hand on Mobius' shoulder and said softly, "Mobius, it's normal. Just give it time. You don't have to decide what you want to do or be right now."

Mobius sighed and replied, "To answer your question, of course you can stay here, I have a guest room and... well, unless you want to... huh... I mean..."

Loki chuckled softly and said, "The guest room is perfect. We know how to fight side by side, we know how to work side by side, now we just have to learn how to lo... live side by side."

He could tell from Mobius' slight gasp that his slip of the tongue had not gone unnoticed. He shouldn't be too hasty; he had lived through enough centenaries to know how he felt about Mobius, and while he had an idea of how Mobius felt about him, they had time to put it into words.

Now was not the time.

He slid his hand from Mobius' shoulder to his cheek and cupped the other man's face between his hands, slowly bringing his closer and asking softly, "May I...?"

Mobius breathed, "...yes."

That was all it took for Loki to close the remaining distance between them and gently press his lips to Mobius'.

The kiss was incredibly soft, almost chaste, and lingered, deepening their connection, their lips learning each other.

When they parted to catch their breath, Loki pressed another kiss to Mobius' forehead before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest.

He whispered into the gray hair, "I don't know any more than you do, you know? This is as new territory for me as it is for you."

Mobius wrapped his arms around him and replied softly against Loki's chest, "We'll just have to figure it out as we go along."

Loki hummed approvingly.

True, there was so much to figure out, but now they had the time to do it.

One choice at a time

One step at a time.

As long as they did it together.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Timeless Growing love : here (After season 2)

Lokius masterlist : here

#lokius #lokius fics #loki #mobius m mobius #loki x mobius #wowki #moki #time husbands #timefrost #mobius x loki #loki series #loki season 2 #loki season 2 spoilers #loki mobius #mobius loki #post season 2

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twilightcitysky · 6 months

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Lucid

Rated E

by TwilightCitySky

Part two of Transmission

Crowley tries his hand at lucid dreaming, and gets more than he bargained for.

For those of you following this fic, thank you for your patience (I had a baby!) and chapter 9 is now up!

Read on AO3

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #my fic #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #post season 2 #eventual fix it fic #dreams #or are they

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aziraphales-library · 4 months

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I'm just gonna, timidly but proudly slide my real life spouse's fic here as a rec. It reads as a fan s3 but in a way that's so very plausible I forgot I wasn't actually watching the show for the most of the part. There are lots of real emotions put into our favorite husbands and you can feel it, not to mention the writing quality itself. Hope this is okay to send. Sunlight or Demise by verovex

Hello my dear! How perfectly lovely of you to take the time to recommend something your spouse put love and care into.

Sunlight or Demise by verovex [rated T, 33k words]

Anathema had once said she couldn’t see Adam’s aura, and it should’ve been more of a red flag, but the reality was it had just been so large she couldn’t see it for what it was.

For Crowley, it was the same thing with trying to see reciprocation from Aziraphale.

The enormity of love was, by all accounts, indecipherable. Aziraphale had known what love felt like in this world. At least, he thought he understood it. He felt it all around him. He always had. Sometimes, it was stronger in particular places than in others. But, there was something blurred about it all if you looked too close. He’d realized that Heaven never felt like this, yet it’s where you were taught that it should exist. Aziraphale had started to wonder. He couldn’t decide when the thought first came around that perhaps the love he felt had actually been what was sifting between him and Crowley.

At some point, it was easier to be humbled by the complacency of what they’d always been showing each other than outright admitting it for what it was.

But that wasn't enough anymore.

-Mod AB

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfic #good omens fic recs #post season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens s2 spoilers

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angel-and-the-serpent · 1 month

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Give this a read if you want some angst? @helphowdoiusethis @daisy-has-too-many-wives @greatsouthernpansy @sparrowsortadrawzzz @tragic-cosmic-magic @janeway-lover @hivemindofevilbats @saphisverygaymydudes @goodomensafterdark

#Good omens #good omens fic #writerblr #angst #oneshot #post season 2 #sad #crowley #sad crowley #depressed crowley #ao3'#ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens crowley #good omens after dark

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sparrowsortadrawzzz · 2 months

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queers <3

#the sparrow drawzzz #good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #boxfly #gos2 #post season 2

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thegoblinboy · 4 months

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So you guys remember this post that I posted the other day? The one where Eddie makes a deal with Steve to read a book for him? Well I kind of have been working on more for that. (Slowly but surely) and I kind of want to post and get an opinion on this scene I wrote for it, I still have to edit it but for the general idea I was just curious to see if I should I keep it in the oneshot

Eddie had told himself that he wasn't going to pay attention to Steve Harrington after their agreement in the library. But he was never good at holding himself to his own word. Ten minutes after he had left Steve by himself in that aisle, he found himself wandering the school hallways. Specifically near the nurses lounge, where he spends possibly five minutes standing outside of in hopes of hearing Steve inside.

When he realizes he wasn't going to actually know if the king was in there without actually walking in there himself he becomes slightly agitated.

An idea pops into his head when he hears the bell ring, signaling the end of the period and the beginning of the next. He scurries to the side of the hallway, where he can catch every face that passes him. Crossing his arms as he leans back a bit, glancing over faces before finding exactly the one he needs.

He nearly tackles Gareth when he sees the familiar flannel vest. Quickly shoving him in the direction of the nurses office, with some struggle. Enough struggle that the book in his hand was nearly smacked away towards the wall to their right.

"What the hell dude!" Gareth's voice squeaks a bit.

Eddie may have accidentally chosen the wrong trooper for this job. With how much he was concentrated on this singular quest he had forgotten Gareth was one to piss off fairly easy. His nose was already scrunching up and he was already starting to smack Eddie's chest as his face began to match the color of his flannel.

"Eddie what the fuck!" Gareth finally gains some control as he quickly turns around and shoves Eddie backwards and into a couple of passing bystanders.

Awkwardly smiling, Eddie wiggles his fingers apologetically towards the group of kids before he's quickly walking back up to Gareth. Realizing he was going to have to come up with a good excuse as to why he had to go into the nurses office and check to see if Steve Harrington was inside.

Making a whoopsie face Eddie quickly leans forward and plops his hands down on the other's shoulders. "Sorry Gare bear didn't mean to startle you but I need your assistance my kind sir." He tilts his head and bit and hopes that his smile could possibly soften the other's anger. Just enough to receive his help.

Gareth grumbles a bit as he angrily lifts his hands up and squeezes his fists dramatically. As if he was reenacting choking Eddie out. As he angrily growls a bit he then smacks the others hands off from him as he glances down at his watch. Making even angrier noises when the bell goes off again, telling both him and Eddie they were late to their next class.

"This better be fucking good Munson." He growls out a bit before crossing his arms around his chest.

Eddie laughs a bit awkwardly, "Well you see- I kind of need you to walk into the nurses room for me and check to see if Steve Harrington is in there." He puts on his best smile again, but this time it wasn't working nearly as well as before.

Gareth's eyes were starting to do that squinty thing, along with his fists digging into his sides. Eddie's pretty sure that the boys left eye twitches a little.

"Did you seriously just nearly tackle me in the fucking hall way just to get me to check and see if his highness was in the nurses office?" Gareth's voice carry's no tone as he talks, which was not a good sign for Eddie.

"Language young Jedi, do you talk to your mother with that mouth?"

"Eddie!"

"Fine, I may or may not have done that. But it's important, I'll let you do whatever you want with the next character you build." He promises as he brings his hands up. "Scouts honor."

Gareth takes a moment to think before he's grumbling and turning to enter into the nurses office. The bell on the door dings lightly behind him as Eddie carefully starts to pace back and forth down the hallway. Chewing on his nails a bit as he keeps an eye on the door.

Five minutes pass before the door opens again with Gareth holding a hall pass. His face was not as red anymore, and he now had a lolly pop in his mouth.

"So?" Eddie asks impatiently.

"No sign of him," Gareth answers before he adds, "now can I go back to class? Or do you want me to go in there and find out how big his feet are from his file next?" He sasses.

"Oh shut up, and get to class you little asswipe." Eddie grumbles a bit. Mood slightly soured as he realizes the Steve didn't listen to him.

A soft "bitch" is sent his way before Gareth is leaving him by the nurses door.

Eddie swings back to the library, just to make sure that he didn't miss Steve in there. When he realizes there was no use in searching he plops himself down at one of the tables that sat in front of the check out area.

Sulking just a little as he checks the time, seeing he barely had twenty minutes of class left. Deciding that there was no point in going he ends up opening the book from earlier and slowly begins to read the first page.

Yeah sorry to be that guy I just need an opinion and I don’t have any beta readers rn. Also I need help deciding a name for this oneshot oh my god

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aidaran-alha · 1 month

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A fic based on one of Gleafer’s amazing drawings! Follow her here: https://www.tumblr.com/gleafer and in her Patreon!

Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

Summary:

The Second Coming has been averted. Everything is perfect, Crowley and Aziraphale living together, a silent agreement not to talk about what happened in Heaven, what happened after they parted ways in the bookshop. Except that the angel keeps forgetting who he is, thinking time and again he's human.

And this time Crowley decides he's had enough.

------ “I… I know you. But I can’t remember your name. Why can’t I?” Crowley just waited patiently as the angel bit a cake. The first times he’d jumped in to fill in the blanks, to provide all the information. He knew better now, even if he was desperately gulping his espresso, trying to stop his leg from drumming on the floor. “I… I left you. I didn’t want to. I had to — I had to do something. A kiss. I remember a kiss.”

“Yes.”

“There was coffee involved,” the angel opened his eyes at that, and looked at the tea and cakes in front of him. “Why was there coffee? I don’t like coffee. You know I don’t like coffee, you ordered me tea. Why? Help me. Help me remember.”

“That’s what I’m doing, angel. This is me helping.”

“My head is empty.”

“Just tell me all you know.”

#fanfic #fic #good omens #post season 2 #post second coming #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #humor #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #plot twist #short story #completed

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theladycarpathia · 1 year

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burn

Max is late. Again.

Billy flicks the lighter open and shut again and again, half considering giving into his impulse to burn everything down. He never thinks about it too seriously, but it's always there in the back of his mind. A flickering ember, just waiting.

The only question is what will come first - getting out of this town, or when he finally gives into it.

But for today he clicks the lighter shut and stows it away in the glove-box. It’s just one of the shitty ones he buys at the gas station, of no actual value if Neil decides to search his car. He learned a long time ago that even the Camaro isn’t safe.

He thinks briefly about leaving her to skate home. He’s done it before, and it usually works well enough that she doesn’t pull the same stunt too often. He promised to keep out of her business and away from her friends. He’s followed through with that. But if he’s giving her a ride, he expects her to be on time.

And if they’re back late, it’ll be his head on the chopping block.

A familiar flash of red catches his eye and he grinds his teeth. Fucking finally.

She’s not alone, four boys trailing his stepsister like puppy dogs. He recognises them, half knows some of their names. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t even attempt to get out of the car, not since last November. He’s kept his promise.

If Neil ever catches Max with them, that’s her own problem.

One of the boys with dark hair says something that makes Max laugh. Another dramatically clutches his hands to his chest and staggers backwards and Max affectionately slaps him on the arm. Something about the easy, casual way they all walk in sync together makes bile rise in Billy’s throat. It seems that Billy’s the only one suffering in this town. For all of Max’s initial griping, she appears to actually like Hawkins.

He shouldn’t want her to be as miserable as he is. He just doesn’t want to be the only one drowning in it.

He doesn’t get why the boys are coming over to the high school until someone behind him leans on the horn. That’s when he spots the BMW.

That’s another promise he’s kept.

He’d woken in the Byers house, bloodied, sore and alone. The bitch had taken his car and when they’d returned, Billy had snatched the keys, grabbed Max, and driven off without a word. They were all dressed weirdly, with gloves, goggles and scarves wrapped around their faces. Max had strange dark smudges on her skin and her clothes reeked of smoke until laundry day. But she never once told him what they’d been doing and Billy decided that he didn’t want to know. Whatever fucked up shit she was involved in, he just didn’t care anymore. It was entirely up to her to explain to Neil and Susan, because he wasn’t about to cover for her.

But she’d told them something, and Neil hadn’t come into Billy’s room looking for an apology so Billy had left it. He’d cleaned the blood from his face and his knuckles, and he hasn’t looked too closely at what happened at the Byers’ since then.

Nor has he spoken to Harrington. He’d looked at the bruises on his face with some pleasure, and what the hell does it say about him that he wants to ruin something that pretty? Much to his annoyance, it had only made it worse: the cut on Steve’s bottom lip, the dark marks across his cheekbones.

The wounds eventually faded but Billy’s desire to make a mess of Steve did not.

Harrington climbs out of the front seat, clad in that same clingy green sweater that he’d worn to school today. It’s fucking insane that the former king of Hawkins High dresses like some golf-playing middle aged parent. Polo shirts, jumpers, khakis…every single item of Steve’s clothing makes Billy want to rip every single stitch.

Billy’s not been spotted. He slinks down in his seat, eyes focused on the rear-view mirror at Steve’s long body as he shouts for the kids to move their asses. Max waves at Steve, who returns the gesture. The boys shout their goodbyes to Max, scurrying across the concrete to their waiting babysitter. Billy doesn’t miss the expression on Max’s face as she watches them go.

Max climbs in and slams the door, even though he’s told her a thousand times not to. He watches her dump her bag at her feet, skateboard pulled onto her lap.

“You’re late,” he says, even though they could have peeled out of the parking lot by now. With Neil waiting, he probably should have. He’s still watching the rear-view mirror, watching Harrington in a sea of kids.

“I forgot about the time,” she snaps back, but she’s picking at one of the stickers on her board.

“Sure,” he drawls. The kids are piling into the BMW, but Steve is still standing, poking around in the trunk. One of the boys’ backpacks is wedged in, preventing the trunk from closing.

“We were talking and I just forgot,” she says defensively. “The others didn’t have to meet Steve until later and I just forgot.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?” Billy asks. She shrugs.

“They’re just going to play that stupid game,” she mutters, but she’s watching the rear-view mirror too. “El’s not even going to be there so it’s not like I’d have anything to do.”

It hurts a little sometimes, how alike they are. Maybe in another life, it would have made them good siblings.

But Neil made sure that was never an option.

“We can’t be late,” Billy reminds her and her mouth twists. She’s starting to learn now and that frightens him. Neil’s rules are made to be obeyed and she’s no longer exempt.

“I know, that’s what I said!” she bites out. There’s a curtain of red hair half-hiding her face. “Steve’s taking them all. There’s no space for me anyway.”

In the mirror, Steve stops and straightens up. He slams the trunk shut and looks around the nearly empty lot, tugging out a pair of sunglasses. Billy watches the light glint off the glass as Steve slides them onto his nose. There’s something so elegant about the easy way that he does it. King Steve never quite faded away, even after the fall from power. For some people it’s just built in: the delicate curve of his throat, the flick of a tongue across a bottom lip, the confidence in every movement.

“Good old Steve,” Billy says bitterly and Max shoots him a look.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” she says pointedly and Billy takes one last look at Harrington climbing into the front seat of the BMW.

“We’re going,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. He grabs his own sunglasses from his pocket and then shifts into reverse. Billy swings the car around so he beats King Steve to the punch, effectively blocking the BMW in.

“You’re being an ass,” Max says, her voice dangerously low. Billy gives her a grin, and takes his sweet time shifting into gear. He knows what lines he can cross.

He catches sight of a few middle fingers as they pull off, and the move does little to stifle the itch under his skin. Nothing ever does these days.

Max stares out of the window as they pull away, dark clouds swirling around her bright little head. Billy dares one last look in the rear-view, watching the BMW reverse, allowing him one last look at Steve.

All he ever does is want to burn pretty things down.

#harringrove #harringroveweek #harringrove week #billy's birthday #prompt: unrequited love #pining #post season 2 #billy hargrove #steve harrington #Max Mayfield #billy is not good at Feelings #it's like the worst form of cute aggression #cute boy MUST SMASH #only he's doing it wrong #hello again harringrovers #I've missed you

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phoen1xr0se · 2 months

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Chapter 39 of Don't Fall Away From Me is up on AO3! (M)

Art Credit: @wisesnail

Chapter Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves revisiting an old haunt as they prepare to meet their maker. Aziraphale's faith is tested to its limit.

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Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying this story. The comments you leave on AO3 mean so very much to me, I treasure every one of them. Without them I'd have given up by now!

Next chapter should be up fairly shortly, but am in hospital Monday and Tuesday which, annoyingly, has impacted everything. I'll still do my best.

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Enjoy, and again, please leave a comment on AO3 if you can:

The opening to Chapter 39 is below the cut (no spoilers):

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Aziraphale had been on Earth for a very, very long time.

His feet had touched the cool grass of Eden on the day of its creation, felt the sun’s first rays as they caressed him through the leaves of the apple trees, enveloping him with a warmth he hadn’t ever realised had been absent. Aziraphale had seen the plans for this planet and its population, but nothing could have prepared him for the soft, tender fragility of petals on a brightly blooming flower, or the hopeful, sweet song that filled the air from the winged creatures that flew up above. As he had walked through the garden, surveying all that he had been chosen to protect, the heart inside his new corporation had swelled, fit to burst, at all the good it saw.

Yes, Aziraphale had loved Earth, and everything on it, since the beginning of its creation.

He had watched as the world grew, evolved, blossomed – and he, too, had changed with it. The world kept on shifting, and Aziraphale found that the angel he had been designed to be was no longer fit for his new assignment. Humans, in all their unique and messy beauty, craved things he couldn’t understand, thrived not only in the love of God but of one another, in shared moments of laughter, connection and intimacy.

And his heart, the heart that had been filled with all this goodness, all this humanity, had, unbeknownst to him, been shifting, changing, blossoming. Aziraphale found himself longing, wanting. Wondering, in lonely moments, if perhaps there was more.

In almost all of those moments, there had been Crowley.

He’d once thought that the demon materialised during those weak moments as a test, a temptation, a slap on the wrist, stinging with guilt and shame, every time he caught sight of that flame-red hair.

It had taken him centuries to realise that Crowley was none of those things, but, in fact, everything he had been seeking, the hollow, aching thing his heart had been craving for. Not a test, not the apple, not a question, but the answer to the puzzle, the sated feeling after a feast, the fixed point upon which the Earth had kept turning.

It had been the two of them, and the Earth, since the Beginning.

And now it was the two of them, and the Earth, at the End.

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