24 Oct 2019
Crowley had waited six thousand years, kept it all in check. But this was the slipperiest slope he’d ever set foot on and as soon as he’d indulged in a few discretionary acts of kindness he was falling face first into pining, tumbling into flirting, about to dislocate his knees on the sharp rocks of intimacy.
Was this really it? What he had waited six thousand years for? A stupid flower show? Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away from him. Maybe… maybe this time he wouldn’t? Maybe they’d hold hands again. Maybe tonight with a bottle of merlot in them he’d finally work up the courage and just kiss him and he wouldn’t pull away.
The very moment he’d thought it he spotted the problem at the flower show.
- Part 1 of The Profane Comedy
Bookmarked by Tootlepuss
30 Jan 2021
Anatomy 101 by Fyre for gingerhaole
08 Apr 2021
Two humans are enjoying some alone time. A demon has questions. An angel has answers.
Bookmarked by Tootlepuss
13 Jan 2021
25 Jul 2020
Just less than a year after the Ritz, Aziraphale and Crowley are living together in the South Downs, blissfully happy with their relationship and the shape of their new lives together. Things couldn't be better. So why is Aziraphale suddenly daydreaming about a different kind of relationship altogether?
“I have an… affliction,” he said, trying very hard not to let the teacup rattle in its saucer. “An illness, you might say. It comes around now and then, and I’m afraid I very much need space and, and quiet to deal with it.”
“What do you mean, an affliction,” Crowley said, relentlessly. “You’re an angel. You don’t get sick.”
“I do, in fact,” Aziraphale said testily. “Not very often, and believe me, my dear, I’ve always made certain never to do so around you. But I can assure you that every century or so I come down with… these symptoms, and I know quite well by now what I need to do to recover.”
“And you want me to leave?” Crowley said. “While you’re vulnerable? Just up and go--”
“To London, yes. I’ve booked you a nice hotel, plenty of amusements. It really will only be a handful of days, a fortnight at the most, and then things can go back to normal.”
12 Aug 2019
"You seem very familiar to me. I can’t say why that is." As Aziraphale spoke, Crowley turned away from the fire, and Aziraphale was momentarily concerned that the spell had been broken, that he had crossed some invisible line. But Crowley smiled and brought his beer to his lips.
"Maybe we met in a past life. Does your lot believe in that?"
Aziraphale smiled into his wine. He was sure Crowley was poking fun, ever so slightly, but he liked it. "Not strictly speaking. No."
Crowley shrugged, taking another long sip of his beer. “A mystery then."
After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.
Possession by summerofspock for seekwill, Blue_Sparkle
20 May 2020
Six times. Aziraphale had come back to the bookshop six times smelling of someone else. Every single one had turned Crowley’s stomach and had made that dark thing curl even tighter in his gut.
- Part 1 of Possession