#strange things happen in bookshops

[unrighteousbooks]

Working in the shop yesterday morning, I heard a commotion at the front door. Two young men -- one heavy-set, the other much smaller -- barged through the front door. They wore knit caps and large coats and they carried a brightly-painted wooden crate, a book, and a large jar. They stopped when they saw me and the larger man shoved the smaller one forward. "Do it, eh!"

The smaller man replied, "No way, eh? You do it."

"I did it at the beer store. It's your turn."

The smaller man grabbed a stack of books, apparently at random, and put them in the crate. He put the crate on the counter. "We want these, OK?"

They stood there awkwardly, staring at me. I took that as my cue to ring up the books. I took the first one and checked the price and began to enter the amount on the register.

"Uh, I believe there'll be no charge for these books," the larger man said.

"Excuse me?"

He grabbed the book they had brought with them. "OK, we bought this book from YOUR bookstore, and we were at our book club, and a friend of ours -- a cop! -- found a mouse in this book. And he said when that happens, you get free books."

"It's in the Canadian criminal code," the smaller man added. "There's precedent in legal cases."

I stared at them in confusion. "It's The Tale of Despereaux. It's about a mouse. So yes, there is a mouse in the book. You do not get free books because a book has a mouse in it. And we are not in Canada, so whatever is in the Canadian criminal code is not applicable."

At the back of the shop, Crowley overheard the conversation and began moving toward the men.

"I told you this wouldn't work!" the smaller man whispered.

"Release the moths!" the other man shouted.

"We let 'em out at the movie theater."

"You were supposed to get more moths, you knob! Why'd you bring the jar if you didn't get more moths?"

At this point, Crowley stepped up to the counter. "I know you two," he said. "You're the McKenzie brothers. You want free books? Go to the publisher!"

"You sure you don't want to think about it?" asked the larger man.

Crowley grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him to within an inch of his face. "I'm sure," Crowley answered.

Crowley can be a rather intimidating presence. The brothers wisely exited the shop immediately, leaving behind the crate, the jar, and The Tale of Despereaux.

I suppose I shall put the crate with the other strange boxes that I've accumulated through the years. The basement is full of them.

[totallynotashieldagent]

It starts small. After everything that happened, Mark just wanted to find someone who was so far removed from his hero life and somehow, he found you.

Bright smile, easy eyes, and completely unaware of his truth. Or even his name.

He was just a face in the crowd but god the way you smiled at him, the way you treated him so... normally. Like a human. A real person. One without responsibilities. One without the weight of the world on his shoulders. Not Omniman's son, or Mark Grayson who was always breaking promises. None of that. Just ... Mark.

Something he hadn't been since before he got his powers. Something he'd always taken for granted until afterwards. When he couldn't have that anymore.

And to you?

To you, he's just the guy who you bumped into at the bookshop and then somehow ended up seeing everywhere.

It was weeks of randomly seeing him at various location that you finally gathered the courage to approach him.

"If you're stalking me, you're doing a very bad job." You'd said with an easy laugh and gods above, devils below, Mark felt his heart skip several beats for it.

He had shaken his head and laughed nervously. Something about coincidences and how the universe works in strange ways.

But he couldn't help himself. You were so beautiful. So untouched by the cruelty he knew.

So he did what he shouldn't have done. He asked you to sit. To join him.

That little meeting turned into a day's worth of conversations. About everything. About nothing. And when you parted ways, he wanted to keep you. Or maybe have you keep him? He wasn't sure but he knew he wanted more. More than just this fleeting connection.

So... numbers got exchanged and the dates- well, no, not really, not officially- but the meetings continued. The conversations became softer, lighter.

Random texts of hope you're dry whenever a storm rolled in or did you see this? with a new clip attached.

Mark was just grateful for it all. He didn't have to save you. He didn't have to fight to be your friend. He could simply say BRB and disappear for hours before coming back and the conversation continued as if he never left.

There was a simple warmth to the way you existed that brought him to his knees, honestly. When you listened with full attention. When you talking about random things without expecting him to have a world changing opinion.

And he knew it wouldn't last forever. His secrets always threatened to claw their way out, bubble up at the back of his throat like bile. But he was selfish enough, for the first time ever, he wanted to be selfish enough to take whatever he was given and say thank you for it.

.

.

.

Drabble Masterlist.

[shoemakerobstetrician]

Season 3 Opening Scene Nightingale 1941 Theory

So, season 2 opened with a flashback that had us totally reevaluating Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s relationship. I think the same will be true of season 3.

I think we will return to the night in 1941, to find out that they kissed, danced, or more that night.

1 - Why are they sitting at a table in the bookshop just drinking, no food on the table? When they’re drinking they don’t use a table. I think it’s to clue us in that there is more to the scene than what we are seeing - at some point before or after they had dinner.

2 - We know that Aziraphale did the apology dance in 1941 - again an indication that there is probably more to that evening than what we have seen so far.

3 - When Crowley says ‘no nightingales’ in S2E6 we now think he’s referring to the scene at the end of S1E6 in the Ritz, but it does seem a bit of a reach. It was a very nice moment, but I don’t think a relationship defining one that would cause both of them to think of it as their song.

4 - A Nightingale Sang was released in 1940, first charting at the end of December 1940. It would have been a hit in 1941 (according to Wikipedia it got up to #2).

5 - I think they had dinner, they danced, or perhaps even kissed to Nightingale as it was playing on the radio, and it became their song in a much more significant moment in 1941.

6 - When Aziraphale says to Crowley “Perhaps one day we could…dine at the Ritz” after “You go too fast for me Crowley” he would then be directly referring to their song from 1941.

7 - When it plays at the Ritz at the end of season 1, it’s because the pianist finds themselves mysteriously compelled to perform it, like the Oxford bus driver taking them to London.

8 - And finally, when Crowley says “no nightingales” at the end of S2 it is just devastating, it’s him saying there is no us.

And another thing: in the lyrics to Nightingale: That Certain night, the night we met/There was MAGIC abroad in the air. 😁

One more thing: I can certainly see Neil gleefully being like “Psych, it WASN’T their first kiss.”, and the scene would be just as heartbreaking if not more so if it was what Crowley thought was their last kiss.

ETA I just rewatched the bookshop table scene for like the 17th time. Holy 💩 is the dialogue strange and very loaded. The “trust me” bit, and the “shades of grey”. Throughout the whole scene Aziraphale is sideways eye fucking Crowley. There is simply no way we’re not going to see more of this scene in Season 3.

I very much like this whole idea, it probably won’t happen. Maybe someone will write a fanfic at least.

[cevansbrat0007]

New In Town

Summary: Introducing Chapter One of my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death and Grief, Mentions of Book Boyfriends, Allusions to Disordered Eating, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Major thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me plot out this chapter. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was happening again. You could feel him doing it. You knew without turning your head that the bastard had gone back to staring.

At you.

Gritting your teeth, you make a point of adjusting the skirt of your dress before returning your focus to Reverend Turner at the pulpit. Trying your best to ignore the hum of electricity in your veins, you find yourself wishing that you’d opted to stay home today. After all, you hadn’t been to church in ages. 

So what on earth possessed you to return today?

It’s not like you were concerned for your immortal soul or anything. On the contrary, you and God were good. You were even on speaking terms again – now that you’d finally forgiven him for calling your Uncle Leon home before you were ready to let him go.

That had been nearly three years ago.

These days, your grief has taken a backseat in favor of running the town’s only bookshop, Baubles & Quills. Once owned by your Uncle, the store had become your sanctuary as you’d struggled to cope with the loss of the only family you’d ever had. 

And now that you’d deemed life worth living again you’d apparently decided that attending Calvary Baptist Church’s Sunday morning service was a good idea. But the one thing you hadn’t counted on when you’d politely – and strategically – taken a seat in the pew closest to the door was that you’d end up sharing it with the likes of him.    

That bounty hunter fella that you’d been hearing about for the last week. His arrival had practically sent your little town into a regular feeding frenzy. Word on the street was that he was investigating something that had to do with your old high school pal, Martin Westbrook.

At least that’s what Charline Marshall had said when she’d stopped by your shop to return a book she’d purchased because she didn’t care for the ending. While you weren’t usually one for gossip, you’d been intrigued by her, ah, description of the handsome stranger that had taken up residence just a few blocks south of where you lived.

Two Days Ago…

“His name is Ari Levinson. Kinda strange, right?” She’d whispered conspiratorially, running a hand through her copper colored tresses . “But he’s a tall drink of water with the prettiest blue eyes I‘ve ever seen.”

“Oh really?” You’d mumbled, frowning at the crease that adorned the spine of the paperback book in your hands. Another one for the discount rack.

“Mhm. He’s handsome all over.” Charline had continued, picking up one of your more elaborate looking bookmarks and pretending to study it before using it to fan herself. “And not only that, but…” She’d leaned in then, allowing her freshly manicured nails lightly graze your arm. “I think he likes me.”

“Oh? Has he come out and said that?” Your eyes had gone wide with feigned interest. Because of course the man would be into Charline Anne Marshall. Who wouldn’t be? The woman was beautiful and, what’s more, she knew it.  

“Well, I mean…not yet.” The woman had let out a disappointed little sigh. “But I’m almost certain he will. I’m just giving him time to get settled in, you know?” She’d said, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smile as she held out a hand for her change. 

“How kind of you.” Good Lord how you wished you could hurry things along so you could go back to enjoying your peace and quiet. 

“Ari has already interviewed me twice. He even gave me his number, just in case I happen to remember anything else.” She’d tucked the cash from her return into her purse. “I think I might call him up and tell him that my memory works best after a couple of drinks. Think that’ll work?”

“I guess you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Even though you were annoyed, you’d pasted on a fake smile and closed the register, hoping that might be enough to convince her to end the conversation and move on already.

“Why, I think you just might be right.” Your unwanted guest held up the bookmark that was still in her grasp, her unspoken question left hanging in the air. “And this?”

“It’s on the house, Charline.” You’d patiently replied, bracing your elbows on the counter. “Best of luck landing your bounty hunter beau.”

“Well, aren’t you just a gem?” She’d all but squealed, sounding positively giddy as she took a step back. “You know, I bet if you spent a little more time out in the real world instead of holed-up in here with all these books, you’d probably be able to land a man too. You’d be awful pretty if you’d just put in a little bit of effort into it. I mean –” 

“No thanks.” You’d simply shrugged, unable to summon up enough energy to be outraged by the dig. 

It wasn’t worth the breath you would've wasted trying to explain why you were better off keeping the company of your book boyfriends. A real man required too much care and feeding for your tastes. 

“If you say so, sugar. But–” She’d responded as she strode towards the door. “Oh! You should come to my next party. We’ll let Mary Kay sponsor your makeover.”   

'No offense, Charline, but I’d rather put a campfire out with my face than attend your next Mary Kay get-together featuring you and ten of your mother’s closest friends.' You'd thought to yourself.

“Uh, maybe. We’ll see.” You’d hedged before turning on your heel and heading in the direction of the stockroom. “Enjoy the bookmark!” God, you’d never been so happy to hear someone exit your shop than you were at that moment.

Which brought you back to the present. You’re startled out of your reverie when the congregation erupts into thunderous applause, signaling the end of Reverend Turner’s sermon.  You knew you were going to have to move quickly if you wanted to avoid any unwanted attention from other members of the flock. 

Or worse yet: be forced into making small talk with Ari Levinson. Assuming that beast of a man actually possessed enough brain cells to actually string together a sentence or two. Which was a shame because he really was easy on the eyes. 

Unfortunately for you, you don’t realize that now you’re the one who’s staring until you notice the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Shit. The cocky lawman nods his head in your direction before having the audacity to mouth the word: “howdy”. It almost makes you wonder what his voice would sound like. 

Would his southern drawl be thick and rough, or smooth and easygoing? Assuming he was southern, that is.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you make fast work of grabbing your things before scooting out of the pew, doing your best to sneak out of the service before everyone is formally dismissed. The absolute last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were like every other woman in this town who was willing to practically trip over herself just to get a good look at him. 

On your way out you brush past Sister Mary Jo Winans, who is all too eager to follow you out the door and halfway down the front stairs.

So much for making a clean getaway.

“You’re not staying for the potluck?” She wheezes, gripping the railing as she struggles to catch her breath. 

“Afraid not, Sister Winans.” You tell her while digging through your purse for your keys. “I’ve gotta go home and change so I can head over to the shop.”

“But it’s Sunday, honey.” The matronly woman huffs, adjusting the angle of her wide-brim church hat. “This is the day that the Lord has made. We are to rejoice and be glad in it. It’s all right there in the good Book.”

“Be that as it may, Sister, I’m afraid I can’t stay. Plus I wouldn’t feel right about eating when I didn’t bring a dish to contribute, so…” You offer up a one-armed shrug. “Next time.” 

You also weren’t a fan of eating in front of people. You were always self-conscious about whatever you put on your plate, convinced that you were being judged for your choices. Your stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding you that you’d left some cottage cheese and fruit behind at the shop. That would just have to do until you found the wherewithal to make it to the grocery store.   

“But–”

“Next time. I promise.” You kindly interrupt, hoping that she would just let the issue drop. “By the way, I set aside a copy of Joyce Meyer’s latest book for you.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” You confirm as you begin walking backwards towards the nearby parking lot. “Stop by anytime. We’ll consider it an early birthday present, alright?” Smiling when she nods, you toss her a little wave before speed walking the rest of the way to your car. 

Unlocking it, you climb in the driver’s seat and slam the door before gunning the engine. Finally free, you peel out of the lot and turn onto the empty street. Needing to focus on something other than your thoughts about a certain bounty hunter, you decide to turn up the radio, praying for your traitorous brain to cooperate. 

Yeah, no such luck. 

“Fuck you, Levinson.” You spit, wishing that he was close enough to hear you right then. Because the way you saw it, the sooner he packed his shit and moved on, the better off you and everyone else in this godforsaken town would be. And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay far away from you.

He’d have more luck getting information out of a drunk Charline than he would trying to get you to spill your guts. And the moment he threatened you, you were planning to call Bell’s Creek PD to let them deal with it. Until then, you had some empty shelves to stock. But first…

You were gonna need to find someone to cut you out of these damned spanx.

END 

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[curiouspupsicle]

Good Omens Fan Fiction Friday (7/4/25) - Memory Loss

Fic writers have penned amazing memory loss fics after its central role in season two of Good Omens. Some are heartbreakingly tender. Others are ridiculously silly. Whether set in the canon universe or a human AU, stories of memory loss are amazingly rich. Here are a few of my favorites.

First up is Save Me (T) by atimefeeler/@atimesfeeler. Anthony wakes up in the hospital suffering from a concussion and no memories. He also finds a note, written in blood, threatening him. While trying to figure out who he is, he decides to keep his memory loss a secret. After all, anyone in his phone contacts could be a potential killer. Even the mysterious "Angel." This is a tense but also tender story. It's a lovely example of how our favorite demon and angel are drawn together even when one of them doesn't remember why.

In ain't no cure for love (E) by @may--hawk, Crowley experiences strange things in the bookshop after Aziraphale returns to heaven. This is a thrilling story I don't want to spoil any more than I already have by including it on this list. But it makes smashing use of Terry Pratchett's L-Space. Definitely worth a read--especially if you need a speculative season three to tide you over until the finale arrives. A couple sit at a table reading a note that says one of them is an angel and the other is a demon. They have half an hour to figure out which is which or face the consequences in guess who (T) by attheborder/@areyougonnabe. It's a silly bit of South Downs fluff.

Aziraphale wakes as a 38th order scrivener missing his memories with a cryptic note he left for himself in Light the Corners of my Mind (G) by cyankelpie/@ineffable-kelpie. He has to figure out what happened. Unfortunately, the one being who might be able to help is avoiding him. This is one of a series of amnesia flicks by cyankelpie that I haven't read. But I loved this one. It was tender and emotional.

@eggysoupy writes about Crowley telling Aziraphale he loves him through the ages in everything i've had but couldn't keep (T). But for some reason, he never remembers doing it. It's as sweet as the song that inspires the title.

After the Armageddon't, Crowley arrives at the bookshop to pick up Aziraphale for their date. But the angel has no memory of him. Strangers Again (patria sine memoria) (M) by doric_column tells the story of Crowley trying to figure out what happened. It's such a clever story that evolved as the writer watched season two. And it finishes in such a satisfying way. I loved it!

Moving on to human AUs, we have How Could I Forget (E) by JessnotJessie. Aziraphale and Crowley love each other and have never admitted it. When Crowley falls and suffers a head injury in his plant shop, bookseller Aziraphale stays by his side. Surprisingly, the injured man with brain damage is not the only person forgetting things.

Grab your tissues. You'll need them when reading A Little Life (E) by @gaiaseyes451. Professor Crowley and bookseller Ezra fall in love and create a long and wonderful life together. No spoilers. But mind the tags.

Let's finish with a WIP I've been enjoying quite a bit, Still We Know Each Other So Well (E) by @paperclipninja. More than half way finished, this story asks the question, "What would happen if both Crowley and Aziraphale lost their memories?" It's an engaging mystery. Give it a look. Hope you find some enjoyable reads. Of course, they're a small selection. Please reblog and share your favorite memory loss fics in the comments. Support our wonderful fandom writers by leaving comments and kudos. I'll be back next Friday with more great fics related by theme. In the meantime, check out my other favorite fics on this pinned post of weekly Good Omens fan fiction recommendations. And if my faves appear to be your faves, check out my bookmarks on AO3--all the fics I rate in my top 10% of everything I've read.

[deatheaterv]

What about a witch reader who never went to a wizarding school, lived her entire life with muggles and somehow meets and falls inlove with Snape. Maybe at first he thinks she’s a muggle as well and doesn’t want to be with her due to that but somehow he finds out she’s a witch and she’s shocked that there are more like her. and he takes it upon himself to teach her everything

I adore your imagines and I am so happy you have so many Snape requests!!! There are never enough of them!

A WITCH

hello sender! that’s very nice of you. couldn’t thank less for the kind words!

pairing : severus snape x fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : as in the request

you were thumbing through a pile of second-hand novels in a dusty old bookshop when you felt someone’s eyes on you. glancing up, you saw him. a man dressed entirely in black, his expression cold, his dark eyes watching you intently. his gaze felt sharp, almost like he was evaluating you, and yet, there was something else there too, something that lingered.

you didn’t notice the slight pull of magic when you accidentally knocked over a stack of books. they stopped mid-fall, hovering for the briefest second before settling back into place on the shelf. it was so subtle that you didn’t even register it, brushing it off as luck. but he noticed. he narrowed his eyes slightly, convinced it was a trick of his mind. after all, you had to be a muggle.

he didn’t approach you, not at first. instead, he observed from the shadows whenever he saw you again. at the bookshop, the library, a quiet café down the street. it wasn’t intentional, or so he told himself. it was coincidence. still, there was something about you that he couldn’t seem to ignore.

the day he finally spoke to you, it was purely by chance. you were struggling to reach for a book on a high shelf, and without a word, he stepped in, retrieving it for you. “you might want to rethink your methods,” he said, his voice low and sarcastic, “before you bring the entire shelf down.”

“thanks,” you replied, raising an eyebrow at his tone. “i don’t recall asking for help, though.”

“you looked seconds away from disaster,” he retorted, brushing imaginary dust off the cover of the book before handing it to you.

his sharpness should’ve been off-putting, but instead, you found yourself intrigued. he didn’t introduce himself, didn’t even smile, but there was something about him that kept you from walking away.

it wasn’t until much later that he realized why he couldn’t stop thinking about you. it wasn’t your smile or the way you spoke. it was that faint trace of magic that seemed to follow you, no matter how deeply buried it was.

and when he saw it again, your frustration causing the café lights to flicker slightly, a glass on your table trembling just for a second, it clicked. you weren’t a muggle, though you didn’t seem to know that yourself.

“you’re completely unaware, aren’t you?” he asked one day, his tone tinged with disbelief and something else.

“unaware of what?” you frowned, staring at him like he was speaking another language.

“of what you are,” he said sharply, his eyes narrowing. “you’re a witch.”

“you’re a witch.” the words hit you like a ton of bricks. you stared at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or just plain mad, but the intensity in his expression told you he meant every word.

“that’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “if i were… what you’re saying, wouldn’t i know by now? wouldn’t someone have told me?”

“you’ve gone your entire life without any understanding of your magic,” he said, his tone clipped. “it’s not unheard of. especially if you were raised by muggles. non-magical people, that is.”

“non-magical people?” you echoed, still reeling from the absurdity of the conversation. “look, i don’t know what kind of game this is, but-”

“stop talking and listen,” he interrupted sharply, his dark eyes flashing. “you’ve felt it, haven’t you? strange things happening when you’re upset, or angry. objects moving without explanation. lights flickering. that wasn’t coincidence.”

you faltered. memories you’d long buried started creeping into your mind. broken plates fixing themselves when you were a child, a flower blooming in your hand the one time you thought it had truly died.

“but… how?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“because you are a witch,” he repeated, his tone softer now, though no less firm. “and clearly an untrained one. it’s a wonder you haven’t blown up half the street by now.”

the first time he showed you something truly magical, it was a simple flick of his wand. a small glass on the table floated effortlessly into the air before landing gently in his palm. it wasn’t much, but it left you wide-eyed and breathless.

“this is basic,” he said, his tone full of disdain. “a spell even first-years could manage. but you, you don’t even know how to hold a wand, do you?”

“i don’t have a wand,” you muttered, feeling defensive under his scrutinizing gaze.

“of course you don’t,” he snapped. “you’ve spent your life living as a muggle.”

the word stung, though you didn’t know why.

he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “very well. i’ll teach you.”

lessons with snape were nothing like you expected. he was impatient, sarcastic, and often scathing when you made mistakes, but there was an undeniable brilliance to the way he explained things.

“magic is not a toy,” he said one evening as you struggled to perform a simple levitation charm. “it requires precision, control, and discipline. waving a wand aimlessly will accomplish nothing.”

“maybe if you stopped criticizing me for five minutes, i’d actually get it,” you shot back, frustrated.

his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smirk but wouldn’t let himself. “then prove me wrong.”

to your surprise, you did. the feather you’d been practicing with lifted smoothly off the table, floating in the air as if it had always belonged there.

“well done,” he murmured, and though his praise was faint, it made your heart skip a beat.

as the days turned into weeks, he began to show you more. introducing you to potions, explaining the intricacies of magical theory, and even taking you to diagon alley for the first time to buy your own wand.

“remember this moment,” he said quietly as you held the wand that had chosen you. “it’s the first step to understanding what you’re capable of.”

he didn’t say it aloud, but there was something about the way you looked at him, your eyes bright with excitement, that made him feel a strange sort of pride.

you started to notice the way he softened around you. how his sharp edges dulled ever so slightly. he still barked at you when you mispronounced incantations or brewed a potion incorrectly, but there were moments when you caught him looking at you, his expression unreadable but softer than you’d ever seen.

and somewhere along the way, you realized that learning about this new world wasn’t just about discovering who you were. it was about discovering him too. the man behind the scowl. the one who had taken it upon himself to teach you, even when he pretended it was just an inconvenience.

“why are you doing this?” you asked him one evening as you sat together in his dimly lit sitting room, poring over a book of magical history.

he didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes scanning the pages before finally meeting yours. “perhaps,” he said slowly, “because you remind me of what it means to begin again.”

you didn’t fully understand what he meant, but the way he looked at you, like you were something rare and fragile, made your chest ache in a way that felt entirely too wonderful to bear.

[meanwhile-at-crowleys-flat]

Today Crowley felt something strange in the bookshop he hadn't noticed before - he crawled under Aziraphale's public desk and found it - a tiny, infinitely small tear in the fabric of reality. These things happened from time to time, and could easily explain why Muriel was missing, and why he kept losing memories. He sighed. Last time this happened, he'd ended up in the American old west with Aziraphale and had barely escaped a brawl. He carefully leaned in, and was startled to notice a giant cat paw, just on the other side.

Oh no. Not again....

[jilyawards]

January

Now Everybody-- (completed, 4.6k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“He’s a muggleborn too, I think that’s why she likes him,” James says, now talking to no one but himself and the ceiling. “He listens to all the same muggle music, watches films… they probably go do cool muggle things like fairs and refrigerators… ride airplanes…” “Mate, I don’t think you do a refrigerator.” James ignores him, barreling onwards. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck here, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin was on my bloody arm like a fool.”

there's no place like home for the holidays (completed, 36,7k) by @thejilyship. Rated T.

Christmastime is hard. ~Lily~ Lily's life has recently exploded. She has moved twice in the last two months, broken up with a man she had thought she was going to marry, and is currently headed home to go to her sister's Christmas time wedding alone. Even though she and her sister argued over giving Lily a plus one quite explosively. And now she's got an asshole neighbor who basically shoved her down the stairs. ~James~ James has been in love with Marlene McKinnon since he was eleven. She has absolutely no interest in him, and his friends have tried just about everything they can think of to dissuade him from pinning for her. And his parents won't stop setting him up with their friends grandchildren. Because they're old and they think James needs help. What if someone were to assume that the two of them were dating when they're spotted in the airport together? What if they didn't correct them? What if they used their easy chemistry and proximity to make Christmastime that much easier for the both of them?

the road not taken (looks real good now) (completed, 3.2k) by @emmathecasualauthor. Not rated.

He blinks, forcing himself to focus, but it's all there in his mind, like it’s happening again. Or: James sees Lily at a bookshop in muggle London

keep pace (completed, 8.6k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice light, “is this a thing you do? Invite girls to kill themselves on a run after you find them crying. Or am I special?” Sirius laughs. It’s a sharp sound, almost surprised, but it makes her stomach loosen. “You’re special,” he says dryly, finally turning to look at her properly. He watches her for a beat longer than she expects, like he’s searching for something in her face—some answer she doesn’t know how to give. Whatever it is, he seems to find it.

The One Sharp, Tangible Thing (completed, 2.2k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“It’s horrid for you, you know.” “No worries–I do loads of things that are bad for me,” he smirks. “Oh? Like what?” He falters, the rushing stream of banter getting interrupted by a fork in the river. Maybe she is imagining it, but she sees the words start to form on his lips. Fancying you. 

White Winter Hymnals (completed, 16k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

Holiday themed jily snippets from age eleven to adulthood

Afterglow (completed, 1.3k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

A soft silence falls over them, strangely comfortable given the circumstances. She can feel his heartbeat against her forearm, a defiant thump thump thump that serves as a reminder that yes, you are in his bed with his hand over your body and his face unreasonably close to yours.

At Least I'm Gonna Say That I Tried (completed, 5.8k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“Call me what you want, Evans. I deserve it,” he pants, “But then I’m going to need you to make my Christmas wish come true a few more times because – Merlin– I’ll do anything for it.”

Betting on It (completed, 700 words) by @chierafied. Rated T.

If Lily hadn’t downed those last two tequila shots, she might’ve wondered how she ended up here: squinting at the cards she’d been dealt while sneaking appreciative glances at the very impressive set of abs.

Bad Egg (completed, 1.1k) by @annabtg. Rated G.

Lily's greatest fear lurks on the breakfast table.

Eternal Recurrence (WIP, 15.6k as of 31 Jan 2025) by @girlhoodpostmortem. Not rated.

"This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning." - The Oresteia A Marauders fic inspired by The Book Thief by Markus Zusak/inspired by a textpost by @pomegranateroot15 on Tumblr.

November/December recs available HERE!

[iliveformanyfictionalcharacters]

The One Who Believes Chapter 1

Bernard (The Santa Clause) x Reader

Summary: [Reader] stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago - around the same time she stopped believing in Santa. What happens when she's finally given a reason to believe in both.

Chapter 2 >

Ever since I was a little girl, I believed there was someone out there for me. Someone who would love me for me, for every strange aspect of my personality, every hobby I loved and every experience I’ve had. When I was a little girl this idea was striking, it was a tangible thing that I fully believed would happen. I stayed up late as a toddler as my mother told me stories of how one day I’d find the one for me. As a young girl I played with my dolls and teddy bears and all the time thought of who out there could possibly be the one for me, what were they doing at that very moment? As a teenager I forced myself to focus on my schoolwork, however, somewhere in the back of my mind I still dreamed of my person. My One. My soulmate.

Now as a young adult it's become more apparent than ever that that's just not how it works. There's not a single person out there waiting for me, a person who has been crafted perfectly for me and me for them. Realistically I’d find someone that makes me happy that I can build my life with, someone I can marry and have children with. But the idea of a soulmate had become so utterly ridiculous to me that I almost cringed at my teenage self. But still. Sometimes, in the dark of the night, when everything was quiet and I could finally think to myself, I find myself wishing it were true. Wishing that there was some truth to my childish dreams. Wishing that my mother had meant something more when she told me of the love I'd one day find.

Christmas was coming up. I looked up at the date displayed on my computer - December 18th - one week until Christmas. I always felt bittersweet during the holidays, like something was missing. As of recently I blame this feeling on my mothers passing a few years ago. I still think of the last thing she said to me. “Believe [Reader]…the one is out there…you just have to believe.” Suddenly the sound of the bell atop the store door startled me out of my daydream. I worked in a bookshop. I can’t really put a name to my job though. As the only employee I stocked the shelves, checked out customers, worked the finances, and as of late cleaned the snowy footprints away from the door as people walked in from the frigid outside. I worked for the kindest old man and woman, who weirdly enough sort of reminded me of Santa and Mrs. Claus. The old man - Mr. Lou - was a big man with a long white beard and round glasses. The women - Mrs. Dorothy - was a kind old woman who wore exclusively ankle length dresses and always brought me homemade cookies when she came in. In fact, it was her who had just walked in. “Hello Mrs. Dorothy!” I called to her with a smile. She smiled back and adjusted the tray in her arms to give me a hug. “Hello Dear, how are you today?” I always loved Mrs. Dorothy, I never knew my grandmother but having her in my life made me feel like I had the most loving grandmother in the world. “I’m doing good Mrs. Dorothy, just got the last of the Christmas books stocked and I finally got that light changed,” I say pointing to the seemingly always broken lightbulb. “Oh thank you dear, Lou’s been meaning to do that but his back has just been killing him these days.” “Oh no, is he okay? Did something happen?” “Oh dear you’ll never believe it!” Mrs. Dorothy turned from the shelves she had been looking at and faced me with an amused look in her eyes. “He fell off a roof!” “He what!? Oh my goodness, is he okay?” I frantically ask her. “Oh yes dear, he's fine. It did put him out of his second job but he found a replacement pretty fast.” “Okay... that's good. Please let me know if there is anything I could possibly do to help.” I didn't even know Mr. Lou had a second job. “Oh dear thank you. You are so sweet, but you have already done so much for us the past 7 years. I mean, you've been working here since you were 16!” “Mrs. Dorothy, you know I love working here, and I love you two also. I would be happy to help in any way I possibly could.” She answered me with a smile and a cookie from the tray she was holding. She set the tray down and we held small talk for about an hour as more customers came in and out. Eventually closing time came and I started cleaning up the small messes here and there. Me and Mrs. Dorothy walked toward the door still talking, as we walked outside, harsh gusts of cold wind hit us. I wrapped my scarf tighter around me but Mrs. Dorothy hardly seemed fazed. In the seven years I’d known her the cold had never bothered her. “Well bye Mrs. Dorothy, I’ll see you tomorrow. Please remember my offer.” “Of course dear and for all your kindness let me tell you something, something I think you’ll find very helpful in the near future: His favorite color is burgundy.” “Wha-” but before I could question her extremely strange comment she whips around on her feet and walks in the opposite direction, toward her home. “You’ll understand when you need to, dear!” she calls, and just like that I was alone on the sidewalk in front of the old bookstore.

The walk home from work felt different than usual. The air held a sense of suspense, the feeling you get when you know something is going to happen but you don't know when, how, or why? Once home, I tried to shake off the odd feeling I had. I fixed some mac and cheese for dinner and watched a Christmas movie while eating. I took a long shower and crawled into bed still feeling uneasy. What had Mrs. Dorothy meant? Who's favorite color was burgundy? Why did I need to know it? How did she know I would need it? And most importantly, why was I starting to believe her? I fell asleep with more questions forming in my head than I had answers.

[ineffable-suffering]

The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

[unrighteousbooks]

I was out for a bit yesterday evening, and when I returned I found these items on a small table upstairs. I don't know where they came from. Possibly Fran is getting an early start on Halloween? One customer, meanwhile, claimed to have seen "some creepy ghoul-looking guy with no nose" strolling through the shop. I have learned to take these things in stride. Strange things happen in bookshops.

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

Good Omens - January reads part #1- fanfics recs 🤓🩷

Follow along for short summaries each month about the books i read🩷

I only read finished stories and rarely one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but sadly some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapter Fanfics

1] Sky Clear Blue (E) by @klikandtuna

Human Au. It is the year 1804 and Azekiel is running a bookshop, but this folly is about to end, as he is obliged to marry the daughter of a pastor. Meanwhile in the year 2024 Crowley lives in a flat above a deserted shop. He can still read "A.Z. Fell, purveyor of the books" and is fascinated by it. And so sometimes he sneaks down in the empty place, until one day he finds a small handmade angel under the floorboards. And isnt it just a coincidence that Crowley likes to fiddle with a machine for timetravelling? 😉

It doesn't say in the tags but it feels a bit like a Dr. Who Crossover in the first chapters. This is a longfic of 749 pages that will decorate your mind. Brace yourself for some big emotions and quite a stretch of at least umcomfortable feelings and questions. Be brave, you will be rewarded. 🩷 Do make sure you read to the end!

One of the many most touching sentences: " He lives in the lilac wood of his own imagination, and he lives there all alone." 🦄

And incredibly there is also a song to one of the chapters, its a lullaby Azekiel sings for Crowley.

2] The two that got away (T) by @caedmonfaith

Aziraphale is alone at the pub, when a tall lanky ginger walks in - also alone. They start talking and decide to meet again there. But then the world goes crazy and lockdown starts. Years later, Crowley still thinks of the "angel", neither knowing his name, phone number or any further details. When Nina tries to set him up for a blind date, he stubbornly refuses. Good thing, that Nina and Maggie don´t let him get away with it. 😉

A sweet little christmas-story you can read every time of the year. I just love @caedmonfaith, you can seriously read everything from them and will always be in safe hands! 🩷

3] What are you doing on New Years Eve (T) by @thebookshoparoundthecorner

It is 1806, when Crowley and Aziraphale happen to be meet by chance on New Years Eve. The fic takes us through the years and tells about other New Years, including the ones after the end of S2. 🍀

4] Against all expectations (E) by @sixbynine

A/B/O & regency aera: Aziraphale/she/her is an Omega to be presented for marriage, but she has the least interest in finding a husband. So she sneaks away from the ball, but while trying to climb off the balcony, a strange Gentleman and Alpha even helps her to gather her dress and braid her hair.

A tale of unconventional thoughts and gender questioning, that had me googling for victorian paperweights and you"ll never guess why. 🤭

5] The trouble with beeing a demon (E) by @verdantvulpus

This fic is basically the answer to the question: if there are 2 Crowleys and 2 Aziraphales - how many different possibilities are there for them to enjoy themselves in bed (and also other places)? 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Felt Plot : Smut - Ratio = 1 : 9

Lovely quote: " There isn't a me that doesn't love Aziraphale."

6] The Grindr Logo Doesn´t Even have a 'G' in it (E) by @indieninja92

Set after S1, Aziraphale and Crowley are free to explore their friendship - or is it more? In the meantime Aziraphale is stumbling upon a fascinating but anonymous creature on Grindr for having online fun. 🌶️🌶️

I read this fic a while ago and while i was sick now, i listened to it in a great audiobook-adaption from @podfixx! Superhot no matter if you listen or read it, the shower-scene will live in my head rent-free forever.

Oneshots

7] Trust me (T) by @beet-feet

Set after S2, Crowley cant handle his broken heart and seeks a final solution... 😔

Mind the tags, but as always - a hopefull ending.

8] Keepsake (E) by @naromoreau

AU, Crowley is a fairy that likes to tease Aziraphale, who is a centaur. Well, that can't go without punishment any longer ... 🌶🌶🌶

Art by @golswia !

9] Christmas Traditions and all that (T) by @captainblou

Crowley wakes on christmas morning - alone. But only, because Aziraphale has a surprise for him. 🎅😉

Lovely quote: "If Aziraphale wasn't the first thing he'd see, and touch, and smell in the morning, then it wasn't worth waking up at all."

10] Animal Instinct (G) by @captainblou

Crowley returns to the bookshop after a day in hell and desperately needs to unwind. Though this time must have been especially awful, because when the angel returns with tea, Crowley is - gone?

Yes, i have subscribed to this author and so this is why you sometimes get more than 1 rec for her 😁

11] A little help from a fiend (E) by @mimsynims

Human AU - although not really. Aziraphale sumons a demon because he is in need of ... assistance. I can´t tell you more without spoiling it. You´ll never guess what kind of "payment" the demon is willing to accept. 😉 Had me downloading the follow-up multichapter-fic!

12] Submitted for your consideration (E) by @zehwulf

Crowley hires a professional dom - but when he opens the door and takes the other man in, he doubts this will ever work. Well - it will. Better than expected. 😁🌶️

Go ahead - spoil yourself, love yourself - and don´t forget your love for the authors, too! 🤗

[aziraphales-library]

I didn't know the fandom had librarians! This is amazing!

I read Factory Settings recently and I'd like to find more fanfics that deal in multiple realities, split realities or time travel / time loops etc. Do you know of any?

Hi! We actually have tags for these, so do check out the fics we've already recommended here: #multiverse, #alternate universe, #time travel, and #time loop. Here are more to add to the collections...

A Moment Suspended in Sea Spray by cassieoh (T)

Green filled his vision in the brief second before he instinctively tucked his head away in his coils. Crawly didn’t think there had ever been anything green and growing in Hell save perhaps a good mold behind Hastur’s knees. Cautiously, he inched the very tip of his nose out of his coils and flicked his tongue. Growing things. Soil. Apples. The oil left behind by human hands. Something strange and sharp smelling. Under it all, a smell he knew but couldn’t place. This wasn’t Hell.

Limitless by SmokingMirrorChaos, Yvesriba (T)

Crowley has never known a world with Aziraphale. Where he's from, his counterpart was the angel Anathema. 6000 years of friendship eventually lead to them traveling between worlds until they discover one where there has never been a Crowley. But, there is an Aziraphale. They met and fall in love and with Aziraphale, Crowley finds the happiness he's always sought. A tale told in Crowley's stories to Aziraphale and flashbacks.

creatures of circumstance by attheborder (M)

Anthony J. Crowley, Jr. is the prodigal son of CrowleyCorp, the UK’s most powerful, dangerous, and controversial technology company. A one-night stand with a mysterious man who calls himself Aziraphale tips his hopeless life upside-down into a dangerous obsession. And somewhere else entirely, a girl-shaped creature is presiding over the back room of a bookshop in Soho, where an angel and a demon lay unconscious on the floor…

Endless Night by AppleSeeds (T)

Spending Halloween in an old cottage with his housemates, university student Crowley finds himself trapped in a time loop that repeats every four hours, with only the spirit of Anathema's dead witchy ancestor to help guide him. Agnes believes the time loop has been triggered by Crowley's own thoughts, and that the only way to break it is to ensure that Aziraphale, who Crowley is completely infatuated with, actually enjoys himself. Despite how flustered he gets every time he even looks at Aziraphale, Crowley does everything he can to try to make that happen. But no matter what he tries, things keep going wrong.

World Enough And Time by Stephquiem (T)

For Aziraphale, there were always two Crowleys: the First Crowley, the one he met in the Garden, the one he's spent 6000 years meeting across human history. And there is the Second Crowley, the one who comes to him across time, again and again, propelled, it would seem, by some unknown tragedy. Both, his hereditary enemy. His dearest friend. For Crowley, there is a Before, and there is an After. Before, he spent 6000 years as Hell's agent on Earth, seeing Aziraphale occasionally, working together where they could get away with it. After... After, he's drawn back over and over, like he's attached by a tether that just won't let him go. Not that he wants it to let him go. The alternative...

Smoke and Mirrors by cyankelpie (T)

“If we want the truth from him, he needs to feel safe enough to speak truthfully,” said Gabriel. “Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘The traitor couldn’t possibly feel safe while he’s in Heaven for interrogation!’ And you’d be right.” His grin widened. “But—this is where it gets really good—he won’t even know that’s where he is.” (Aziraphale is imprisoned in Heaven, but breaks free thanks to Crowley’s help. On Earth, Crowley wakes up from his pandemic nap to find Aziraphale missing. Meanwhile, two angels watch an imaginary life unfold, with all the time in the world to wait for the answers they need.) And the sequel, dealing with the aftermath: Reality Check

- Mod D

[margotw10bis]

Crashing On Crush.JJK [m] 9

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 5k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: pure angst; drugs (please, if you have addiction problems get some help, you are strong enough 🤍); fingering; praising kink; oral sex (m. receiving)

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Jungkook met Mina when they were twelve, in middle school. It didn't take long for them to become best friends, enjoying spending their after-school time at the bookshop, reading mangas. At first, it was just friendship, the best kind of friendship actually. Back then, everything was simply perfect. But things changed in high school.

Jungkook knew that things at home weren't great for Mina: her dad just lost his job and started drinking alcohol pretty much everyday. That's why Mina used to go to Jungkook's after class, avoiding as much as she could her own home where she didn't feel safe.

However, gradually, Mina spent less time at Jungkook's. She even spent less time with Jungkook, period. Jungkook, on the other hand, noticed some changes in Mina: she was less cheerful, she lost weight and she was less happy. It was like she didn't feel anything at all. She also didn't go to class anymore. The truth is that Jungkook felt like he was loosing her and that terrified him. So he started hanging with the same people as Mina, not good people.

One day, Jungkook witnessed Mina inhaling a strange white powder. He screamed at her, telling her that she was crazy. Mina would have cried if she wasn't amorphous but that's exactly what she wanted: not to feel the pain, not to feel anything. She told her bestfriend that all the darkness around her was too much to bare so what's wrong to not suffer for a few hours? Jungkook did try to reason her out but she didn't listen. She ended up telling: 'rather you're with me, rather you leave me but you can't stay in the middle'.

Jungkook didn't think much. He actually loved Mina and he knew she loved him too. So he started using. How could this white powder be such a big deal? At first, ketamine was good. Really good actually. Jungkook felt like everything around him was far away and he could just stay there, in peace. But then, he begun to feel bad if he wasn't using. He wasn't taking K for Mina anymore, but for himself.

He was seventeen, he was too young to depend on some thing, on some drug to live. He knew it was illegal, especially in South Korea where drug using is severely reprimanded. But he kept it safe in his room, not too much, just for him. Well, not exactly... Mina was so afraid that her parents could discover that she was using that she asked Jungkook to keep her dose in his room. And she was using way more than him. The amount of special K in Jungkook's sockets drawer couldn't be for personal using.

He doesn't know who reported him but one day, after class, he ran to his room in a desperate need to inhale ketamine to finally feel good. He didn't expect to see three police officers in his bedroom. When they asked him questions, he lied and said it was only his. He lied to protect Mina, and she didn't tell the truth, too afraid of the consequences for herself. She let him take the blame for the both of them even when she knew that if she had said the truth, Jungkook wouldn't had this much trouble. Nonetheless, Jungkook doesn't hold a grudge against Mina: he was the one who made the call to lie.

With the amount of drug in his room, the judge didn't believe it was only for personal using and thought that Jungkook was dealing. But, as a minor, he decided to give him a chance to take change of his life. So the judge convicted Jungkook: he had to spend three years - until his majority - in a juvenile detention facility.

It was more like a mandatory military service but with violent teenagers. But there was also an addiction treatment center. It was so hard to get clean while he didn't have anyone he loved around him. Mina was afraid of her parent's reaction if she visited him. And Jungkook's parents... Well, he doesn't really remember what happened because one of the main effects of ketamine is memory loss. So he doesn't know if he told them to back off or if they didn't want to see him anymore but the result was the same: he was alone, and scared.

He was seventeen and he felt like his whole life was over. He was suffering from the deprivation of drug - it was so fucking painful that he felt like dying - and he was damn aware of how people were looking at him: with disgust. Everyone was judging him, even the persons who were supposed to help him. He was so angry at everyone but even more at himself. He has been so fucking stupid to start using because now it was so hard to stop. He hold on on the thought that he did it for Mina, because he loved her.

But was it enough? Loving Mina didn't give him anything when he finally stepped out the facility three fucking years later. He had no diploma, no job, no money, no one. Even if he was out of the center, he was not free. People was still despising him every time he applied to a job and 'juvenile detention facility' was clearly written on his resume. It didn't really help that he had his first tattoos on his arm. He wasn't free because he still had to account to his probation officer.

Before his first meeting with his PO, he was angry, already expecting another person treating him like shit. However, Seokjin was nothing like that. Jungkook was surprised to meet a guy not so much older than him. The first thing Seokjin asked him was 'Tell me about you'. Jungkook sighed and started telling his drug and prison story for the thousandth time like he was expected to. But Seokjin cut him off and said 'Not that, tell me about you. As a person'. Jungkook was so taken aback to be finally treated as a human being after all these years that he cried in front of his PO for hours.

After that, Seokjin became like a big brother to him. He helped him so much with his addiction and pretty much everything. Seokjin had to supervise Jungkook for two years and he knew that Jungkook was ready to do things right. That's why he didn't hesitate to tell him 'Start over. In a new city, where nobody knows you. Be the man you want to be. Be confident and for God's sake, be happy'.

The next day, Jungkook packed the few things he owned and went straight to Seoul. He became a graphic designer as the only skill he had honed in prison was drawing. He met some friends, including Taehyung and he did start over, willing to do things right this time. Not once he was attracted to do drugs, even if some days were harder than others. He wasn't really happy but he was living without too much pain, until he met you.

————

You cry in Jungkook's chest while he is telling you about his past. Jungkook doesn't cry, and he is surprised about that. Maybe he's already cried too much about his past or maybe he doesn't want to pain you more with his own tears. You stay silent for a few minutes, no words comforting enough coming to your mind. So you just head up and kiss him. Your tears drop on Jungkook's cheeks and he holds you tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jungkook" You sob

"Please don't cry. I hate to see you cry" He says gently

Why does he confort you when he is the broken one? He is such a good person, he doesn't deserve any of what happened to him. And that makes you want to cry harder.

You are kissing Jungkook as if your lips were ointment on his wounds. Your hands on his shoulder and hair, his hands cupping your cheeks, there is no space between your two bodies. The darkness around you is oddly a protection from the outside world. You create your own place where is no past, no future and no pain. Just the two of you. You feel the urge to make sure he knows that he is not defined by his past.

"You're a good person, Jungkook"

"Thanks" He replies, awkward since he is not used to be praised like that

"Listen to me, you are a good person"

"Thank you" He says again but not really believing it, not with what he has done

"You are a good person. And I'm going to repeat it until you truly believe it. You are a good person"

You look at him in the dark. You can't see his face but you can hear faint sobbing. You kiss him again and Jungkook can't understand how you can think he is a good man after everything he's told you. But you do. Jungkook's past is rough but it shows one thing: he is truly a good person because, after everything he's been through, he is still kind and loving and he is still willing to do things right while it would be way easier for him to just give up and start using again.

Through his kisses, Jungkook is making a promise to you and to him. As long as you are willing to have him by your side, he'll cherish you and protect you. He'll do anything you want because if you think he's a good man, Jungkook believes you are a true angel, the best thing that ever happened to him. Maybe he is a little selfish to hold on on you but he doesn't care since he fucking loves you.

You fall in love with him all over again while you both fall asleep, holding each other tight.

————

Waking up in Jungkook's arms is the most delightful thing that can happen in the morning. You move your head up carefully and see him sleeping. He is so damn cute like that. Most of the time Jungkook is ridiculously hot and empowering. But right now, in the arms of Morpheus, he looks like a little boy. Somewhat, it warms your heart because he doesn't seem to suffer anymore.

You move slowly and cautiously, and step out of the bedroom. You hear some noise in the kitchen and find Seokjin already making breakfast.

"Do you need help?" You ask him

He turns around and discovers a still sleepy expression on your face.

"I'm almost done. Coffee?"

You nod, grateful for the cup full of the dark brown salutary beverage. You take a sip and moan in pleasure. You definitely needed it. You feel like you were knocked out by all the deep and intense emotions of Jungkook's past and that it'll take a few days to lighten the weight of it.

"I wanted to talk to you" Seokjin tells you gently and you give him an attentive look "Jungkook's addiction is a life-time fight. He'll never stop struggling with it. He is a good boy but everything he is dealing with can be... overwhelming. So, if you think you can't manage it, tell him now. The more you wait, the harder it'll be for him to deal with it alone again"

You stay silent for a moment. You don't really know what to say. You know that Seokjin just wants to protect Jungkook and he knows way more about addiction than you. The least thing you want is to hurt Jungkook. So you take the time to think about what Seokjin has said.

"I don't want him to be alone" You eventually decide to respond and Seokjin gives you a genuine smile

You don't have time to talk more because Jungkook, with messy hair, steps in, rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning everyone" He mumbles, still half-asleep and a tender smile forms on your face

He pecks the top of your hair before sitting down next to you. Why does it feel so natural? So good? But you do blush a little when you remember that you're not alone and that Seokjin has witnessed everything.

Jungkook sips on his coffee that Jin has just served him and opens his mouth:

"Hyung, could you check my place?"

"Sure, but it'll be in two or three days, I have some appointments"

"Thanks"

You look at Jungkook with a questioning face.

"Mina might had hidden some K and I'm not sure how I'd react if I find some. I rather not risk it"

You gently rub his back to erase the sad tone you heard in his voice.

————

Not so long after breakfast, Jungkook and you took the car to go back to Seoul, Jungkook behind the wheel this time. Your heart beats fast and your cheeks blushed when he grabbed your hand. Fortunately, the drive was way lighter than the day before. You also proposed to Jungkook to stay a few days at your place, saying it was a nonsense for him to pay a hotel while waiting for Seokjin to check his apartment and make sure everything is safe. You made a quick stop at Jungkook's and you stayed close to him while he took some cloths in a bag, being aware of a potential discovery of drug that could affect him.

That's how you end up like this. You both took a welcoming shower and changed into loungewear clothes. Jungkook is damn hot in his black sweat shorts and big t-shirt. You also chose an oversize - pink - top and some pj mini shorts in the same color. The truth is that you're hot, and not only because of the Korean summer. You can't deny that Jungkook's presence makes you way more sensitive to everything around you. However, you act like nothing's going on and you both sit on the couch, watching TV. You don't really pay attention to the screen, especially when Jungkook, almost laying, pulled you closer so your back is leaning on his buff chest and your whole body is surrounded by his.

You suddenly feel Jungkook hot breathe on your neck. Shivers travel all over your body. He doesn't wait too long before kissing your skin. Why are you so responsive to his touch? You immediately feel your pussy getting wet, and it doesn't help that his hands begin to explore your body. You feel him everywhere: your chest, your stomach, your bare thighs. A soft moan escapes your lips when his left arm disappears underneath your shirt. Jungkook caresses your boob and pinches your hardening nipple. His touch is so fucking good. You missed it so much. The stimulation of this sensitive part of your body makes your pussy clench.

In a desperate need of friction, you arch your back, throw your head back into his large shoulder - giving him more space to bite your neck - and press your thighs together. Jungkook smirks when he notices how needy you become. You look so hot when you're horny. And he is willing to push your arousal further.

His tattooed hand travels down to the hem of your shots. Skillfully, his fingers find their way under the fabric. You moan louder when you feel his touch on your wetness. The sight of his inked strong arm into your little pink shorts is hot. It's definitely a sin but you're ready to go to Hell just to see it for a second longer.

"No panties, uh?" Jungkook teases you with his raspy voice and it makes you fucking weak, but Jungkook's discovery also rushes blood directly into his cock

Your throat dries but your pussy dampens. You have no doubt at this point that your pj is completely ruined - not that you care anyway. Jungkook uses his delicate digits to circle your clit. You feel like in heaven. You whine like you haven't been touched for years. You are so desperate in his arms and Jungkook loves it. He keeps kissing your neck, fighting the urge to mark you. His left hand squeezes your nipple harder, making it deliciously painful. At this point, your pussy is dripping and doesn't stop clenching around nothing. Jungkook knows it and to be honest, he really wants to enter you with his fingers but he waits for you to say the little word his dominant side loves so much. He is ready to tease you for hours and to push you on the edge for that.

When a weak 'please' comes from your open mouth in a moan, he immediately places his hand lower, feeling all your wetness.

"You are so fucking wet" He says in some proud voice while pushing a finger in your pussy

It's so good that you clench around it. Jungkook's pace is a torture, purposely slow with his thumb rolling on your sensitive clit. Being behind you allows him to perfectly control his movements, just like you would if you were touching yourself - except that Jungkook's expertise provides you way more pleasure.

Your hands come up to grab his black and long hair that tickle your throat's thin skin and the back of his neck. You turn your head as much as you can to kiss him. The hand that used to attack your breasts cups your jaw to kiss you deeper. Your moans are directly swallowed by Jungkook's mouth. He loves hearing you so much, his hard cock is painful in his pants.

Jungkook enters you with another finger and speeds up the pace. You don't even know how is it possible but you get wetter. Your whole pussy is a huge pool of arousal. You're not embarrassed at all because you know that Jungkook loves it. You feel hot under his touch, you feel sexy.

You feel your orgasm building up slowly, your pussy clenching and relaxing around his digits. You are short on breathe but it feels so fucking good.

"Oh my god, Jungkook" You moan against his perfect swollen lips

"Cum on my fingers like a good girl" He whispers in such a seductive tone that you feel like fainting

His words drive you crazy and he finger-bangs you harder. You definitely feel on the edge of your orgasm and you pull on his hair, making him groan. He presses his thumb deeper on your abused clit and it's the end for you. You reach your climax in a loud moan while a huge wave of delightful pleasure makes your legs shake. But Jungkook doesn't stop and continues to slide his fingers in your oversensitive cunt at a slow pace but definitely makes you shiver. Your legs close up in reflex and your body spams. Your eyes close and your features torn in an almost painful pleasure. Seeing you like this drives Jungkook crazy. Knowing that you are this shaken up by his touch boosts his ego and possessiveness.

"Come on, babe, give me one more" He murmurs in your ear

He doesn't really know why he wants to push you further. Obviously, he wants to give you more pleasure but there is something else. Maybe he wants to erase the night you spent with another man, make sure that you feel more pleased by him than by the other guy. His competitive side added to his possessiveness makes him hungry for a second orgasm from you.

"I can't" You tell him in a breathe, your brain in the fog of pleasure

"I know you can"

You don't really know what kind of spell he put on you but you nod, giving him the approval to play with your cunt again. And he does. He pulls off of your pussy just to smear your arousal over your whole groin. It's so dirty to feel your juices messily recovering your skin but this is fucking hot. You never felt so naughty and yet so horny.

"Are so you wet for me?" His possessive side is dying to hear you tell him that

Jungkook wants to give you so much pleasure that you won't ever find another man attractive. He also knows that it's not only his dominant and possessive part but also the part that cares about you. Is it weird to say he wants to ruin you to keep you in his arms? He doesn't really have time to think about it because you open your mouth to speak up:

"Only for you"

Your words make Jungkook's cock twitch in his pants and he groans in satisfaction. 'Good fucking girl' He thinks and he enters you again with two fingers. You jolt in his arms but Jungkook keeps you in place with left forearm. Your mind is above clouds. The pleasure provided by the overstimulation after your orgasm is beyond words. It's painful and delightful at the same time. You can't even recall your name. The only thing you can say is Jungkook's name with a choked voice. You're a fucking mess.

"Cum again for me, babe'"Jungkook urges you while kissing your neck

The pet name and his fingers in your swollen and sensitive pussy are dangerous for your sanity. It doesn't take long for you to cum around his digits in a muted groan. Jungkook doesn't push you further when he notices how you're shaking in his arms due to the two orgasms he provided you. He hugs you tight and kisses your hair.

You feel exhausted after the two tsunamis of pleasure that rushed over you. Your whole body is flabby but your mind is in a euphoric phase that makes you laugh. It's like a shot of dopamine. After being this harsh with your body, Jungkook is now very gentle, caressing your arms and your stomach and kissing everywhere he can: the top of your head, your cheek, your neck, your shoulder.

"I think you should take a shower" He tells you softly, motioning to your messy intimate area.

You blush hard when you realize that you look really dirty - in all kind of ways. You nod shyly and bit your lower lip. You definitely feel unpleasant by your drying juices between your legs but you feel too good in Jungkook's arms to leave them.

"Do you want to come with me?" You ask, your cheeks reddening

"How could I say no?"

Jungkook's smile is perfect. His bunny teeth and scrunching nose are the definition of happiness. Right now, you are so close to say the 'L' word. To stop thinking about it, you stand up and walk to the bathroom, Jungkook right behind you. It's only when you have taken off your cloths and you've already entered the shower that you notice Jungkook's hard cock. The sight of his big and thick length shakes your pussy. Your instinct controls your movements and your hand wraps around him.

The soft skin under your fingertips makes you almost moan. Jungkook closes his eyes in delight while you start pumping him. Your mouth waters and you purse your lips, creating some kind of cringe face. Jungkook frowns when he sees your face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks with a worried voice, wondering if you are forcing yourself to touch him

"No, it's just that..." You wince while you are looking for the right words, embarrassed "I wonder how you taste"

Jungkook's releases a reassured sigh.

"Take my cock in your mouth if you wanna know" He says, playfully but that doesn't make you laugh

"I'm not really good at it" You whisper, kind of ashamed

Jungkook's steps closer to you and cups your face in his big hands, forcing you to look at him. The hot water coming from the shower makes your skins glistening and blankets you in a steam cloud. It's like a protective shield around your two body.

"I will never force you to do something you don't want to do. But if you don't want to do it just because you are afraid of not being good enough, I can guide you. I won't judge you. Whatever you decide, I'm okay with it" Jungkook's voice is so soft that your heart is melting

He pecks your nose delicately and somewhat, feeling how much he cares about you gives to some courage.

"I'd like you to guide me then" You say in a murmur

Jungkook nods and helps you get on your knees. You can't deny being a little intimidating by his size right in front of your face. The red on your cheeks is clearly noticeable. However, as Jungkook is witnessing you kneeled, he gets really horny. He couldn't be in a more dominant position while he is standing up and you're on your knees, ready to suck his boner. You look so fucking innocent while his big cock is inches away from your pretty mouth. God, what he'd do to this mouth... The simple thought makes his dick twitch. Why does he like so much the idea of teaching you how to suck his cock?

"You can start by kissing it" He says with a raspy voice

You do as he says, softly kissing the tip. A drop of pre-cum stains your swollen lips and Jungkook has to bit his lower lips to prevent his moan. You're so hot right now that he is a second to cum. You don't seem to be aware of his inner state and you start pumping him slowly at the base while you kiss him more.

At some point, driven by your own horniness, you take a fat lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Jungkook moans loudly, giving you more confidence to continue. Your tongue caresses his length everywhere without taking him into your mouth. The stains of saliva make his dick so pretty. You can't wait any longer and open your mouth wide to take the tip.

More precum settles on your tongue. The salty taste makes you moan, sending vibrations in Jungkook's length. You slowly take him more, careful that you don't hurt him with your teeth - and it's not really easily owing to his size.

"You're doing good, babe. Open your pretty mouth wide for me"

Jungkook's voice is shaken because of the pleasure. You look up at him and meet his perfect face with delight painted on it. Jungkook almost looses it when he sees you looking at him. Your eyes are so innocent while you have his cock in your mouth. The duality of the scene is a sin. A moaned 'fuck' escapes his pierced lips.

You take him deeper and deeper, almost feeling his cock in your throat. Your hand slides on what you can't take into your mouth. Your tongue wiggles around his tip and insists on the sensitive spot connecting the tip to his length. Jungkook's groans grow deeper and he slightly moves his hips. He doesn't want to push too much but the pleasure you provide him is too unbearable to stay steady.

Seeing that he likes it, you grow bolder and push your head further, almost taking his entire dick in your throat.

"Fuck, babe!" He moans "Your mouth feels so fucking good"

You pull off to breathe and take him again, your nose touching is pubis. You gag on his cock and Jungkook swears he's in heaven. He feels your tight throat contracting around his dick while you chocked in it and it's so fucking hot. The bathroom is fulled of Jungkook's pleased groans and choking sounds from your part - music to his ears if he is being honest. This is so shameless and hot, making your pussy so wet that you don't know if it's from your arousal or the shower. It doesn't help that the praising and the pet name make you clench around nothing. Will you ever stop feeling butterflies in your stomach when he is calling you 'babe'? You seriously doubt it.

You decide to catch your breathe while sucking him less deep but faster. His length is dripping from your saliva and your pace drives Jungkook crazy.

"Come on babe, suck on my cock like a good girl. Keep going, I'm gonna cum" He manages to say between his clenched teeth

His inked hand grabs your hair, not to push you but to feel you more in someway. He stands tall on front of you, sexier than ever. He is like a god, powerful and maybe a little dangerous for your sanity. It makes him look even more dominant and you can't deny that it makes you horny. You didn't even know you liked it so much before meeting Jungkook.

A last glance at you, sinfully hot on your knees while his big cock is fulling your pretty mouth, drives him over the edge.

"Babe, I'm cumming, pull off-" He moans

As he tries to step away, you grab his hips to keep him in your mouth. You don't move your head but your tongue is still swirling like crazy around his cock and you feel his first shot of hot and thick cum. You moan fromthe sensation, closing your eyes to have a better taste of his spunk. Seeing you loving his cum makes Jungkook releases more in your mouth, until he completely empties his balls in your warm mouth.

Both Jungkook and you are out of breathe. You slowly stand up, grabbing the hand Jungkook provides you to help. Your legs hurt but it's immediately forgotten when you meet the bliss on Jungkook's handsome face. He rushes over your lips and kisses you passionately.

"Who is the dickhead that told you you weren't good at it?" He asks, half-joking half-serious

"My ex, when we broke up" You try to stay neutral but the memory is still painful - he told very mean things the last time you saw him

"Let me tell you something. He lied. It's the best blowjob I've ever had"

You see the sincerity in Jungkook's eyes and you feel proud. You realize that he helps you overcome your insecurities without even having you feeling like trying to do so. Jungkook just makes you happier.

You hug him tight and he kisses your forehead. You both appreciate the peaceful silence and the warm water, before going to sleep. There is no doubt you'll sleep tight after those mind-blowing orgasms.  

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Taglist @hoseokteardrop @aerynorirene @jkoooooooookie @lacolegaming @busanbby-jjk @mysteriousstress65 @coralmusicblaze @winter-bear98 @gimeow @cuntessaiii @nikkinik485 @jjin-kun @dmstoyangyang

[goannasun]

Fics Masterlist

Welcome to The Elysian (E, 49k, Complete. Human AU, enemies-to-lovers)

Aziraphale is the night-shift receptionist at the once luxurious, now nearly abandoned Elysian Hotel. Crowley is the most arrogant, rude, and unprofessional security guard Aziraphale has ever met. Work is boring and endless—irritating and loathsome—until one frightful night, when Crowley calls Aziraphale to the basement: Walking his rounds, he has stumbled upon something bizarre. Something Aziraphale must see for himself.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSES

Of Buccaneers and Barkeepers (E, 20.1k, Human/Pirate AU)

Crowley is the terrible, terrible Captain of a pirate ship. Aziraphale is the sweet, sweet barkeeper at the local pub.

Of Sails and Flower Beds (E, 13.5k, Human/Pirate AU pt.2)

Crowley is retiring from his terrible, terrible life as the Captain of a pirate ship. Sweet, sweet Aziraphale leaves his pub in good hands, and follows him.

No Food in the Library (E, 16.5k, Human AU)

“Excuse me, sir—You can’t have that in here.” The man who works the front desk at the Buckinghamshire Public Library looks like sin waiting to happen.

Stagger My Heart (E, 21k, Mythology AU)

Curiosity tingled under Crowley’s skin, and still he did not move, not even when the strange man untucked a corner of his tunic and allowed the whole garment to float down to the ground. There were stories told among Crowley’s people, of forest nymphs and goddesses, dryads and satyrs, guardians of the wilderness, for as long as Crowley could remember. The stories were often vague and inconsistent, not necessarily inspiring any truth to be found in them, but what Crowley saw before him then confirmed at least one thing: if they did exist, they must be as beautiful as this.

The POA Doesn't Own My C*ck (E, 2k, PWP, Human AU, Prison AU)

“Your hand on my c*ck? It’s more than alright.” Aziraphale chuckles, tries to smother it against the tender skin behind Crowley’s ear. “I don’t believe the POA would agree,” he whispers, sarcasm tinting his tone. The POA stands for Prison Officers’ Association. Crowley knows because Aziraphale keeps bringing it up. "Well. The POA doesn’t own my c*ck."

Bright Red Around Bright Blue (E, 5k, PWP, Human AU, Roommates AU, Ineffable Stoners).

“Would you perhaps like to fuck now?” “Perhaps.” There’s something wild about the way Crowley echoes the word, something wild and happy. He hasn’t gotten used to Aziraphale saying such things (not the perhaps bit, no, that’s nothing new, but the fucking bit). “Why, yes. I would. But perhaps after…” He sacrifices a hand, previously blissfully occupied tracing vague patterns across Aziraphale’s skin, to bring his lighter close to his nose and burn the tip of his spliff.

CANON - G + T RATINGS.

How to Describe a Flame? (G, 583 words, Prose Poem)

You should not waste time talking about its shape, or its height. You need to explain how the flame mesmerizes. You need to write about how hypnotizing it is to watch the wild sway of his hips as he walks, about how he shines in the complete absence of light. You might talk about a tall, slender frame, or about long, lean fingers—you might focus on those shapes, but only because he is as elegant as the flame. 

God Blessed the Seventh Day (T, 3.6k, Human AU, meet-cute)

Aziraphale eats at the same diner every Sunday morning—he orders the same breakfast, he sits on the same stool, and, well—it just so happens that the same tall, attractive, mysterious stranger always takes a seat right there next to him. But they don’t talk. Aziraphale doesn’t talk to strangers. That is, until he does.

When Home is Not A Place (G, 1.6k, Fluff)

They’re in the bookshop laughing about orangutans, of all things, giggling over glasses of wine, and Aziraphale is rattling his brain trying to understand why he feels a warmth under his skin beyond what he knows the alcohol can give him. Crowley’s face is stuck in this wide, open-mouthed smile, perky wrinkled cheeks and two straight rows of white teeth, and Aziraphale thinks he just might rebel against all of Heaven, if only he can always feel like this.

The Art of Being Nonchalant—Or, How to Impress Your Supreme Archangel Ex-Boyfriend (G, 3.6k, fix-it)

Aziraphale chose Heaven. Crowley didn't choose Hell, but Hell chose to stick to him, much like a nasty old gum on the sole of his shoe. It's therefore perfectly natural that Crowley should get dragged to a meeting between the Holy leaders of Heaven and the terrible, rotten forces of Hell. What's less natural is trying to act casual when the love of your life—who has betrayed you, and broken your heart, before going no-contact with you for months—is standing a mere couple of feet away from you. And looking absolutely angelic, too, the bastard.

CANON - E RATINGS

A Wretched Thing, a Wicked Thing (E, 4,1k, PWP, Ineffable Wives)

“No. Don’t. Not yet, angel.” Aziraphale sounds like a wretched thing. She looks the part, too, all spread out on the bed, bare naked. Her hand stills on the peak of her pubic bone, fat bump of flesh covered in fair curly hairs, her fingertips trembling where they were just about to reach the crest of her lips.  “Do I need to tie your hand up to that headboard?” No, she doesn’t. Aziraphale is good. She’s got two fingers nestled deep inside herself, but they haven’t moved, haven’t even twitched, ever since Crowley told her to stop moving. 

All Dolled Up (E, 4.4k, PWP, Ineffable Wives)

It starts with a proposition to try some lingerie in the bedroom. It ends with Crowley dragging his pretty c*nt up and down Aziraphale's tongue.

Your Lot, My Lot (E, 5k, PWP)

Aziraphale often has to play with the negatives like this—string them together and cancel them out in order to say what he means to say, speak his heart between the lines and keep plausible deniability within reach. It’s tenuous work after a while, a whole new language to make sense of, but he manages. No, I’m not too inconvenienced means I would do anything for you. We’re on opposite sides means I can’t believe I get to share these precious moments with you. And you’re not awful company means I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone.  But he’s not too sure it translates to Crowley. 

Make It Twelve (E, 9.8k, PWP)

“How long do you think you could last without having an orgasm?” Crowley, who had been peacefully enjoying his coffee, splayed out on Aziraphale’s couch for the first few hours of the morning, suddenly sat up straight and spat the contents out of his mouth in a dramatic burst. “What?!”

A Soprano! How Scandalous! (E, 5.1k, PWP, Ineffable Wives)

“Crowley, you must enlighten me. It’s quite the talk—apparently, the premiere in Rome was disastrous,” Aziraphale pauses as she finds her place next to Crowley. They have a private box in the corner of the highest floor of the King’s Theatre, one that Aziraphale generously pays to keep available throughout the whole season. “Your side’s doing, I presume?”  Crowley should be hurrying to deny such accusations, but instead she finds herself struck by a thought – truly a flimsy gust of a thought, but a thought nonetheless: Aziraphale’s corset is doing wonders for her bust.

All Skin and Muscle and Red Lace (E, 6.8k, PWP)

Crowley had just walked a runway stage wearing lingerie—high-end, fancy, delicate lingerie—and Aziraphale’s brain had been reduced to a puddle of goo.

An Angel, a Vibrator, and a Demon of the Serpent Kind (E, 3.9k, PWP)

Here’s a fun fact about snakes: they can hear vibrations more than anything else.

Vice Versa (E, 5.9k, PWP)

Crowley snapped his tongue on the roof of his mouth, and he laughed again. He had to admit, Aziraphale could always find creative solutions to his problems. The joke was on him, though; Crowley couldn’t have given any less fucks about stripping down to his underwear.

From the Mouth of an Angel (E, 1.5k, PWP)

His lips part open in a gasp from the sheer bliss of it, and a rough, long moan is torn from deep inside his guts; Aziraphale pushes his hips up once, and just like that Crowley’s gone.

A Time and a Place (E, 6.2k, PWP)

The facts. Crowley is a demon, and he loves Aziraphale, and he gets horny sometimes.

Just a Tingle, Maybe a Little Burst (E, 3.4k, S*x Pollen)

“Crowley, please. Hurry. I’m—” he got cut off by his own distressed moan. He barely even recognized his own voice. “What the fuck was in that vial?”

Sins in a Bottle (E, 5.3k, S*x Pollen pt.2)

The incident with Crowley’s vial was one of those times when Aziraphale had allowed curiosity to take the reins, as it were. He didn’t regret it, not exactly, but he did get annoyed that the whole thing seemed to have sparked a fire within him that he could not manage to extinguish. A curiosity that nagged at him, more persistent than the desire to take a bite out of an ox rib, or even the impulse to turn to the last page of a book, and glance at its final line.

The Best Ones are Harmless in the End (E, 7.9k, Crack-ish)

Still, for the first time in his existence, Crowley had been naïve, thinking he could pull a prank on Aziraphale and not have it evolve into a full-blown war.

a running tear, a drop of sweat (E, 2.9k, PWP)

It’s a silk bed sheet. It’s black, shiny even in the faint glow of the dimly lit room, and it holds only the echo of warmth. It’s a silk bed sheet and it’s nothing like skin. It doesn’t breathe; it suffocates. It stretches out across seventy-six inches of Crowley’s mattress. Taut. And it’s soft, soft in a way that feels almost like touch escapes it. Like fingertips can barely register it exists. It’s soft, yes, but somehow, it’s even softer when Crowley starts grinding down into it.

A Bottle of Wine, a Book, and a Shy Smile (E, 5.2k, PWP)

It's a less-than-quiet day in Soho; a festival is disturbing Whickber Street. Hoping to find some peace and a comfortable place to sit down and read, Aziraphale shows up at Crowley's door. But peace and comfort is not exactly what Aziraphale finds. What he finds is, arguably, even better than that.

Holding You Closer Than Most (E, 3.5k, PWP)

“Well, perhaps I was, for a very brief moment…” Aziraphale stared intensely at his drink. “Distracted.” Crowley’s smirk twisted itself into a full-blown grin. Bingo. There was no doubt about it now: this was definitely, deliciously new. (And it was mind-boggling to think that, even after six thousand years, they still found ways to surprise each other).

Blur the Edges (E, 3.7k, PWP)

No matter what Aziraphale just said, it is against all expectations that Crowley is still… here.

[starmaker-astral]

Ok we all need to sit and listen.

We need to see this scene (yes, this one) from another angle.

In case you hadn't thought about it, in the last fifteen, we can understand that Aziraphale and Crowley are being watched (by Metatron, most likely through the bookshop windows). Aziraphale knows that and tries to make Crowley understand.

Now, let's talk about how some of Aziraphale's actions/phrases just sound wrong, and not just the mouthing he does earlier, but specifically this moment :

This moment is important because so many people heavily misunderstood Aziraphale here.

It's not "Aziraphale" who speaks, it's "Aziraphale being observed and being forced to play a role" who speaks.

I thought the horribly articulated and obviously exaggerated "work with meee..." line was pretty obvious (it's the most notable one anyway), and the fake excitement doesn't fool anyone with his frantic movements, darting eyes, anxious body language etc... But far too many people are spitting on Az by saying that it was horrible to say that to Crowley and that he didn't really understand him so we need to rethink everything.

Here's what happened, a tangle of double messages :

🟣 Az playing a role because he is being watched

🟠 Az speaking honestly/by himself

"Crowley, Crowley come back to Heaven. Work with meeee... We can be together, angels ! Doing good ! .... I need you ! .... I don't think you understand what I'm offering you. (<both 🟣🟠)

By how Aziraphale acts, breathes and furtively looks elsewhere between his sentences, we notice that he is anxious, under pressure.

IT IS painful for Az to talk like that, to say those horrible things to Crowley and at the same time having to think FAST to know what to say, to do and try to make Crowley understand what is happening.

He tries to balance between what he wants/needs to say to Crowley and what he is forced to do, against his will. And he tries to make Crowley understand this by acting strangely. Because Crowley knows Aziraphale, he knows when something is wrong with him.

This scene is not (entirely) a miscommunication issue, they were not safe, and Az, at the moment of Crowley's declaration was terrified that Metatron could hear this (and who would understand they love eachother, which would be terrible), the need to act FAST and the pressure of being observed.

They had TWO CONVERSATIONS AT THE SAME TIME. (In the entire scene of the last fifteen, not only here, but it would be very long to decypher every line in 1 post)

Aziraphale tries to keep a facade (smiling, enthousiast) because of being watched by the Metatron, but this whole conversation is breaking him inside (worried, scared, lonely)

Here's what I understood here, with Crowley's part and how he came to understand that they, both of them, had to quickly play a role against Metatron:

- Come back to heaven... Work with meeee... (I don't mean it) We can be together, angels ! Doing good !.... I need you ! (Don't leave me alone)... I don't think you understand what I'm offering you (We are not safe to say what we want right now, please tell me you understood)

- I understand. (Ok I got it now) [Pause] And I understand a lot better than you do (confirmation he understood he has to find a way out of here for them both to be safe)

- Well. Then there is nothing more to say (Okay, we're on the same page now and we can follow up with something to definitely fool Metatron and work together in secret)

Rewatch the scene knowing that, it's something else entirely and Aziraphale's anxiety is crippling.

And it makes that scene even worse : it's rushed, messy and frustrating because it shouldn't have happened that way.

They weren't safe at that time, they couldn't act as they wanted.

Of course, the whole Nightingale part the "I forgive you/Don't bother" etc... is heartbreaking. But isn't that another role played? (The kiss was honest tho) Something to fool Metatron? To make him believe that Az no longer has any ties to Earth/Crowley and therefore will be obedient and not considered a threat in Heaven?

Crowley told Azirpahale that he understood, and from that moment, a "breakup" game is played. (I still believe that this is all rushed, that Crowley is deeply hurt by his rushed declaration, that couldn't be made normally, and the horrible separation they have to go through because they have no other choice. Separated by the system and how it works.)

They had to play two different roles during this crisis situation, and Crowley's declaration made things even messier and risky.

They are all alone now, on separate sides, for the first time. But they hadn't any other choice for them both to be safe.

We could also talk about Azirphale's "random" gestures and mouthing earlier, before warning Crowley about Metatron's offer, trying to make Crowley understand the problem.

Metatron's offer (disguised obligation, see the "give me coffee or give me death" coffee metaphore : Take the coffee (my offer) or it will be death for you and your demon

"Whats that lovely human expression ?" (He never says thing like that, he use those "human expression" words to fool the Metatron into believing that Az doesn't know humanity very well while he actually does) "Hold that thought !" (Please don't say that. We are in danger let me speak)

Aziraphale looking away (at the window, nervous)

Az cant focus on Crowley's speech because they know they are in danger and Metatron should hear that Crowley loves Az or it would be worse

But that's another subject to explore further for next time ✨️