#I also love ineffable husbands fanfic

[foolishlovers]

Where a Canvas Blooms by foolishlovers

It’s an Arrangement. Aziraphale knows this. He knows a lot of things, and others he doesn’t, but the most important things, he knows. He knows that the cheeky redhead in his arms smiles and purrs when he runs his fingers through his hair, knows that Crowley’s hands are rough from working outside, knows the softness of his heart. Aziraphale doesn’t know he’s in love with Crowley until he does. But it’s just an Arrangement. Is it? Part 1 of The Cuddle Arrangement

word count: 3.8k rating: T relevant tags: Human AU, Trans Aziraphale, Trans Crowley, Touch-Starved Aziraphale, Touch-Starved Crowley, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Comfort, Pining art by the wonderful @omens-for-ophelia

[lineffability]

"Crowley."

Crowley froze, every atom of his body coming to a complete standstill. Aziraphale had appeared out of nowhere, just like that, and he felt like a fly in a spider's web, like he had just run against a glass door that he could not have seen. Oh, this was cruel. He did not turn around.

"Don't even use doors anymore?" He tried to keep his voice level, cold, unaffected. He failed considerably, but the message got across anyways.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, immediately flinching at the words. The first time they were seeing each other again, after-- after that, and his first words were I'm sorry and he was apologizing for not using a door? Aziraphale felt like swearing, but could not. "I thought you wouldn't open if I-- well. I thought this was easier. Like a bandaid."

"Well, you were right. I wouldn't have." Steel was creeping into Crowley's voice, steel around his heart. With a forcing of limbs, he spun around, his gaze piercing through the armor of his sunglasses. Facing him.

"I need your help" Aziraphale said.

"What," Crowley said. He had possibly never put as much meaning into a single word. The glass door turned into a Great Wall. Aziraphale understood. But he was willing to climb.

The angel (oh, a true angel now, wasn't he--not his angel) fumbled, talking with his hands before his mouth even opened. Talking with his eyes, too, but they got lost in translation. Repelled by a black mirror.

"I know this is untoward. I know it's-- But Crowley, I don't have a lot of time."

"Nothing lasts forever, yeah," Crowley spat, hating himself the second the words left his lips. Unnecessary cruelty. Demonic, huh? Worse yet, Aziraphale accepted the verbal lashing. Don't forgive me, Crowley thought.

Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all.

"Why are you here?"

Aziraphale glanced upwards. Then he looked intently at Crowley. I don't have much time. Right. He couldn't speak freely, Crowley realized. Of course he couldn't. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, what he had known would happen. His angel in chains. (Yet here he was. Here he was.)

"They don't know I'm here," Aziraphale mumbled, gesticulating weakly between them and Up. "I guess I can divert their attention now, for a bit. Comes with the new powers"--he shrugged helplessly--"but not for long. Crowley, do you know about-- about the-- what they're--"

"Armageddon 2.0? Sure."

There was an undecipherable look in Aziraphale's eyes. "Why didn't you-- well. It's not just. I mean it kind of is--it's. More than that. Crowley, I need you to do something for me."

"No."

"This is important." (This isn't about us.)

"I don't care." (There is no us anymore.)

"You do! You always have."

"Oh not this again," Crowley hissed. "You were an angel once. You can be forgiven. Shut up."

"That's not what I meant."

With two long, angry strides, Crowley closed the space between them. Menace, anger, hurt-- "Then what did you mean?" He spat the words. Like a weapon. (Then why was it a question?)

Aziraphale's face crumbled. He stood his ground nonetheless, not backing away. The angel's anger was less spiky, but it rose to meet Crowley's. It made his next words hit like bricks. "I mean that you love. I mean that you, Crowley, are the best person I know. I mean that I love you."

The words dropped like a lead balloon.

There was utter silence between them.

Why were they so close?

Why were his sunglasses so dark? Aziraphale saw only his own reflection. He couldn't bear that, and dropped his gaze. Oh, worse. There was his mouth, mere inches away.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley's lips, really really looked, and there was nothing more, now that he knew about the feeling of Crowley's lips and of his heart, there was nothing more he wanted to do than to kiss him. But he couldn't, he couldn't. Not like this. He needed the next time (he had to believe in a next time, in a time with Crowley, again)--the next time they kissed he needed it to be good and happy and an affirmation. He couldn't bear it otherwise. He would break entirely. He was sure of it.

But still, still-- Crowley was so close. He could smell nothing but him. Think of nothing but him. That weakness again, that soft spot inside him he had never known how to hold down. And with it, Want reared its greedy head. Aziraphal leaned in ever so slightly, felt their noses touch-- and then used all his strength to move away, to pull back. It was not the right time. Not yet.

He looked past Crowley, who might have as well turned to a pillar of salt. Crowley, whose face was a mask he couldn't let slip. The air flickered between them.

There were tears in his eyes when he finally forced his gaze towards Crowley's face, a silent plead to not misunderstand. Please, please. But he couldn't expect that of him. He was pulling away again. But not because he wanted to. No, there was nothing he wanted more than to pull closer. There was nothing more he wanted than to talk to him, to truly talk, to explain and apologize and make amends, but he was bound by Duty and Rules and Watching Eyes more than he ever had been.

This was his rebellion: he lifted a hand, the ghost of a touch, fingertips against cheekbone. The memory of holding on. Of never wanting to let go. Crowley flinched without moving, a shiver of his lips. Aziraphale let his hand drop, briefly, to Crowley's chest, holding it over his human heart. It was beating just like his.

This was his successful magic trick, when it counted: he drew away, leaving a crack in Crowley's steel-clad heart, and a note in his chest pocket.

"I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Of course you do."

"Oh, Crowley. I--" But he did not finish the sentence, knew there was no proper way how. So he said, quietly, softly, "Trust me, please."

And he did. Crowley hated it, hated it so much, but he did, he did trust him despite it all. But it did not erase the hurt. The festering wound. Now what was he supposed to do with that?

With one last pointed look, Aziraphale vanished.

Crowley was alone.

His defenses lay shattered at his feet, and he slowly gathered them back up. He did not mend the cracks. (That's where the light had gotten in.) He cleared his throat. Tried to banish from his mind the look in Aziraphale's eyes, the memory of his lips and of his tears.

And failed considerably.

I love you.

(Touched his cheek, and then his chest, and faltered.)

[this fic is now also on ao3 and being continued there]

[sentientsky]

good omens fanartists, i love u most ardently. good omens fic writers, i would commit arson for you. good omens shitposters, i cherish and adore u. good omens angst meta-analyzers,,,my therapist knows your names

[onlylurkingreadingstuff]

I saw a recent reblog you did where you listed some fic recs and then tagged with your fic preferences, which are pretty much my own, favoring canon compliance fics where they're angel/demon (though I have read some 'temporarily human' AUs I've liked). Do you have a collected rec list? Or any more recs you might toss out? Thanks so much!

Oh gosh yes.

I’m going to assume you have already explored the other fics bu the authors in the first rec post I made- everything by @redfacesmiley, @books-and-omens , @racketghost , and Drawlight/ripeteeth is a stunner. Also dig through equestrianstatue and @darcylindbergh for real gems.

When I’m reading I find a fic I like, dig through all the author’s other fics, then look at the author’s bookmarks because I figure if they wrote something I like that much, they saved things I’ll like too.

Fell free to dig through my AO3 bookmarks- they are completely unorganized and I bookmark things I want to read later or think I might want to read again, basicly anything I might want to find again- so I haven’t even read all of them. BUT! Here are some more of THOSE FICS for me:

It's Funny Because Nobody Ever Says “Burkina Faso” by indieninja92

TIME LOOP TIME LOOP TIME LOOP!!!!

So funny omg. Azi is just DONE and I am here for it. It’s a locked fic to AO3 accounts so I’m not sure if the link will work-

What I shed for You by @darcylindbergh

This fic- this freakin fic!! I did not think I would ever go for a fic that was NOT azicrow but oh my god this one is so good.

But You My Dear Are An Ocean by megzseatle

After nursing his broken heart, Crowley moves on. He gets a cottage and relocates to South Downs to start over, and finds himself beloved in a small town where the people take him under their (proverbial) wing. His new friends are in no mood for charity when his ex shows back up- while Crowley might be able to forgive Az, the townspeople have a harder time with the bastard that broke dear Anthony’s heart.

If I’ve had a bad day and need to cheer up, I read this book! Omens sweet story.

…And if I’m in an emotionally stable place I will read this angsty heartbreaker. So beautiful, just so good.

Idiot/ Guts (and a load of Warbirgon’s Farmhouse White) / Ellipsis by @theyellowestmustard

A little slice of perfect right here.

I also love outsider POV criptids of soho stories- here are two good ones, one set in a coffee shop and one in a bakery.

[gingiekittycat]

Does Crowley actually love Aziraphale?

The more I think about season 2, the more I write about it here on Tumblr and in fic, the more I'm starting to believe that he... doesn't.

Not yet anyway.

I think there is something deeply unhealthy about what Crowley feels for Aziraphale, as evidenced by how completely miserable he is this season. He's so afraid of losing Aziraphale, losing their "precious, peaceful, fragile existence", that he's worked himself into a constant state of anxiety. He's angry this season. He's upset. He's scared. He's trying so hard to hold something so tightly because he thinks if he loses it, he won't be able to survive.

He's always two minutes away from Aziraphale's door. He's sleeping in his car. Could he get another flat? I'm sure he could. Anthony J. Crowley could figure out a way to get another flat. He doesn't want to. He wants to be ready to go to Aziraphale at a moment's notice. He desperately does not want Aziraphale to go to Edinburgh, because he's afraid something will happen to him there. He doesn't give a shit about Aziraphale driving his car, he just doesn't want Aziraphale to leave. And then even when he does give in, he checks up on him, he puts some creepy "I can feel what you do to the Bentley" charm on his poor car, to keep checking up on him. The closer he feels to losing Aziraphale, the tighter he clings to him, until he's literally following him around everywhere (like when Aziraphale is trying to convince all the shopkeepers to come to his meeting).

I could go on. And on and on.

The point is, as we see from the Job episode, that Crowley is lonely. He didn't fit in at Heaven, he doesn't fit in with Hell, and from the first rainstorm in the Garden of Eden "our hero" has coped by clinging to the one person who has showed him any sort of relief from that loneliness.

He's not in love. He's obsessed.

He's been obsessed since the Garden. Popping up wherever Aziraphale is, following him around the Earth. Saving his skin, if need be, even though Aziraphale is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And it gets stronger and stronger as the years pass, as they get closer to each other, as they get closer to Armageddon, and then as they deal with the aftermath.

Crowley never used the word "love" in his confession. I think that's a deliberate writing choice, not necessarily because Crowley didn't want to use the word. I think Crowley thinks it's love, but the fact that he didn't use that word shows the audience that it's not. He's desperate for the idea of an "us", even in season 1 he's obsessed with it, "we're on our side", "us against them." A group of the two of them. Crowley is obsessed with the idea that they are part of something together, something bigger than themselves, because Crowley is not part of anything else, not Heaven, not Hell, and he just wants to belong.

And with all that said... I think it's good that they broke up.

I think it's a good thing for Crowley. I think he needs to take a break. I think he needs to work on himself, work through some of his trauma. I think he can love Aziraphale, but he's got to do some work to get there.

Will we get this in season 3? We'll have to see...

[astralilith]

I am a huge fan of when ships have unique shipnames that are not simply two names smushed together. It makes that specific ship feel much more special and romantic. Bonus points if the shipname is a cute and cheeky reference to canon aspects of the plot.

[ineffablydelighted]

[Cute Omens #2]

Crowley: You can stay at my place, if you like.

Aziraphale: *glimpse of a smile* I don't... I don't think my side would like that. *regretfully looks away*

Crowley: *brows drooping* You don't have a side anymore... Neither of us do. We're on our own side.

Aziraphale: I mean... You're not... I know you're not wrong, but-

Crowley: If the Almighty really thought our existence and our actions to be against the Ineffable Plan, we would have been thunderstruck on the spot, right in front of everybody, don't you think?

Aziraphale: I... *swallows* I guess you're right...

Crowley: Compared to saving the World with me, dossing down my flat does not seem like such a crime, does it?

Aziraphale: Are you... *focusses on him* Are you... tempting me?

Crowley: *sudden smirk* If that is the story you want to tell them, I'll allow it, Angel.

Aziraphale: *mild blushing* Come on! Answer me! Are you?

Crowley: *sighs* Depends on the perspective, I guess. As a Demon to an Angel, I am not.

Aziraphale: What does that mean?

Crowley: Whatever you like.

*They exchange a long look*

Crowley: *aims a hand at Aziraphale's hair* *takes a strand and makes it slide around his index* Did I ever tell you how much I like those curls?

Aziraphale: *has forgotten how to inhale* Wh-What... are... you...

Crowley: *removes the hand* Breathe, Angel.

Aziraphale: *does what he is told* Oh, yes, good, thanks for reminding me! *embarrassed laugh* *face super duper blushy*

Crowley: *looks at the sky hiding a huge, victorious smile* *eventually cannot hold himself from chuckling*

*They look back at each other*

Crowley: *Tilts his head* So. My place?

Aziraphale: *looks away* I just realized: I've never even seen it.

Crowley: *Imitating Aziraphale with scary accuracy* What would my side say?

Aziraphale: *looks back at him with a scandalized gaze* Don't... don't do that!

Crowley: *changes the subject* The bus arrives.

Aziraphale: It only goes to Oxford.

Crowley: *stands* Not anymore. It will miraculously make it to Mayfair.

Aziraphale: *follows* *rearranges his clothes* Care if I...

Crowley: *raises his eyebrows* Oh? Sure.

Aziraphale: *Miracles the bus*

[Bus' title changes from 'Oxford' to 'Mayfair']

Crowley: Thank you, Angel.

[The bus arrives near them and stops.]

Aziraphale: Don't thank me, it is mostly selfish! *giggles and gets on the bus first*

Crowley: *astonished for a second* *gets in as well*

God's voice: And for the first time, they could sit in the bus... side by side.

Navigation time!

[While needing you to consider that, most of the time, the scenes are randomized and do no necessarily follow one another at all]

Previous - Beginning (same thing, actually) - Next

[queer-reader-07]

ok so i'm not exactly a reader of fan fiction, however being on tumblr and part of the good omens fandom has me intrigued

so if y'all have any good omens fic recs for me, drop them in the notes

(preferably with little to no sex because i am the kind of ace person who is made uncomfy by sex scenes, ok ty)

[oscar-is-wild]

some little things i think about the kiss in good omens

we definitely got that because people wanted more intimacy between aziraphale and crowley and they basically said here you can have it it will ruin your life never ask for anything again

nobody's talking about the glasses? crowley kissed aziraphale with the glasses on. throughout the entire show he's always taken them off in the bookshop around him, and when it's hypothetically what we wanted: "the ultimate kiss," it's with his glasses on. which i personally think means two things: that they're both still hiding things from each other, and also that we will eventually get the kiss we wanted without the glasses on. optimism kids

okay not super related to the kiss - people always talk about crowley calling alziraphale "angel," which technically isn't super romantic bc he literally is an angel. however, i think it can be taken both ways - crowley obviously is very well aware of current human trends, so for him to not understand the implications of angel is unlikely. unsure of how much aziraphale would know, though. so it could technically be taken romantically

also i totally believe the coffee theory

[knaccblog]

Ready Now: Part 2

Part 1 is here. Also available on A03

This errand had gotten a bit out of hand, to be honest. What had started as a quick trip just to grab some cheese had turned into hitting up six different stores spread out all across London. And sure, such a task was easier for Crowley than your average London resident, what with his ability to drive very fast with no repercussions and just move everything that inhibited him magically out of the way but still, once you'd hit up more than three stores, any errand was bound to start to drag. It's just, when he'd checked the third store and they still hadn't had Aziraphale's favorite, Saint Felicien, Crowley had known he was in for the long haul. 

After all, Aziraphale had decided to stay home, saying, "No dear, I think I'll catch up on a bit of reading, that way I can pay more attention to you when you're back. And anyway, you already know what cheeses I like so I trust you." (Aziraphale had also kissed him goodbye, soft and warm and- but Crowley was busy and focused and resolutely not thinking about that right now.) 

Trust. A difficult thing for any demon (even an ex-one) to know what to do with. But for Crowley, who had been both trusted and then not trusted (off and on) by a particular angel for thousands of years, it felt a bit like a test had just been accidentally put in his lap. And since nowadays Aziraphale… loved him (of all people) on top of all that, how could he do anything except perform the task as correctly as possible? (Crowley was well aware of the sunk cost fallacy (Hell would have loved it if they'd kept abreast of such modern stuff) but he's pretty sure that what he's doing right now doesn't count since it's not about the time or money he's put in but instead about making sure he does right by Aziraphale. Totally different, right?) 

At least along the way he had gotten some good additional options (White Stilton, Caciocavallo Di Grotta, Gjetost, and Saint Nectaire) as well as two types of crackers, some assorted dried fruits and nuts and even a tomato onion jam that a store clerk had correctly convinced him was an excellent pair with white stiltons some ten years ago now. (He was glad he could still find it, never know with these tiny farms just how long they'll stay afloat.) It was in the sixth and final shop where he'd finally found his quarry, a buttery Saint Felicien, the only cheese Aziraphale had truly wanted (given the bottles of Chateauneuf du Pape they had to pair with it). Crowley had let out a sigh of relief, smiled probably a bit too genuinely at the cashier and returned back to the Bentley with his spoils, eager to get back home to his Angel as soon as possible. 

***

Crowley is about halfway back to the bookshop when his phone rings. There are very few people it could be (and less he wants to talk to at the moment) but he answers anyway. "Hello?"

"Oh Crowley!" Aziraphale's voice rings out through the car and makes Crowley's stomach do a little flip.  He can hear the smile, can imagine exactly what he looks like right now and it makes him annoyed that he's not already back at the bookshop. "Something truly amusing has occurred in your absence and I just couldn't wait-"

"Five minutes," Crowley cuts him off and hangs up. It should have been ten but he'll make it five. No need to keep his angel waiting any longer than that.

***

He pulls up the the curb outside "Give me Coffee or Give me Death" four and a half minutes later (A new record to be honest; Crowley definitely had put a bit too much effort into it) and rolls into the bookshop with his arms laden with all the makings of a pretty spectacular charcuterie board and a (frankly embarrassing) spring in his step. "Angel," he calls out, "I'm back. You would not believe how difficult it is to find good cheese in London today."

He pauses and waits for an answering greeting. When after a beat, none is offered, Crowley walks deeper into the bookshop and calls out again. "Aziraphale?" No answer still. He reaches out his senses and sure enough, Aziraphale is still here, somewhere amongst all the books. Must have just gotten distracted by something. 

Crowley shifts his bags and takes off his sunglasses before following his feelings to where the greatest intensity of Aziraphale-ness is. He finds him puttering around on the second floor, his back towards him and his nose buried in a book. Crowley had thought over the years that he'd gotten terribly good at not feeling this way but now that they're together, he can't help but stop dead in his tracks and just stare. He is so unbelievably beautiful and he loves me. It makes his whole chest feel tight and warm. He nearly sets down his bags and wraps himself around Aziraphale's back but he doesn't. Wouldn't do to startle him. 

He tries again. "Hey Angel," and he sounds unimaginably gone but that's okay, right? That's allowed now, what with the him loving you back thing. 

Aziraphale doesn't turn around or look up. "You're back." 

"Yeah, sorry that took a bit. Like I was saying, state of the cheese market in London's a bit sparse at the moment. Managed to get you some Saint Felicien though so, ya know, not a total loss."

Aziraphale seems pretty absorbed in whatever he's reading but at the mention of the Saint Felicien, Crowley can see him stand up a little straighter, his interest peaked. There's a beat and then he says, "Well, you better put it in the mini fridge for the moment. As you can see, I'm quite busy."

"Yeah, alright," Crowley shrugs. "Be right back." Crowley wonders what kind of busy it is and if it might just be the kind that wouldn't mind a bit of company draped all over him while he reads. 

He heads downstairs and carefully places his spoils in the fridge so that nothing heavy is on top of anything soft and then heads back to Aziraphale. He's moved a little deeper into the shelves but Crowley just follows, leaning up against the nearest one so that he knows he's in Aziraphale's line of sight. Aziraphale turns just slightly more away as he reads. 

Crowley frowns but then pushes it aside. Must be a very good book. He takes a deep breath to steady himself (embarrassing really) but then aims for casual with his tone. "What are you busy with anyway? Would it perhaps be the sort of busy that wouldn't mind a bit of… company?" 

"It would mind actually," Aziraphale says, tone cold and even. 

Crowley reels back just a bit. Is something wrong or? He wants you here, he told you he wants you here, he reminds himself, don't shout, don't run. "Alright, I'll just-" He considers for a moment what to do and having no specific ideas, just barrels on, "leave you to it."

Aziraphale's gaze flicks up at that for just a moment, his mouth set as a harsh line

"Unless," Crowley grits his teeth, "Look, is something wrong? If you're just, I don't know, really into that book, that's fine but I figured I'd check, seeing as we were going to eat cheese and drink wine and oh yeah, there was a funny story you were going to tell me-" 

Aziraphale's gaze snaps up and his eyes are fierce. "Oh so now you're interested in my story, are you?" 

Crowley feels suddenly very lost in this conversation. "Course." He squints and stammers for a moment before getting out, "Uhhhhh excuse me, did something… happen in the five minutes it took me to get here?" 

"Not really. I just think it's interesting that you say you want to listen to me now when you hung up on me before. That's all." Aziraphale turns away and starts to head deeper down the row. 

Crowley groans. He had, in fact, hung up on Aziraphale in the car, hadn't he? Stupid. He runs a hand down his face and curses himself. Sure, it had only been five minutes from the call to him showing up but hanging up is, in fact, hanging up and it clearly had made Aziraphale feel like shit. Crowley's such a fucking asshole, he can barely stand himself.

He scrambles after Aziraphale. "I'm sorry, Angel, I was selfish-"

"I mean who could blame you!" Aziraphale slams the book closed and turns around suddenly. They are now face to face and very close. "You were just doing what any sensible person would do, saving yourself from another one of my inane ramblings. Of course you cut me off-"

"That's not-" Crowley sucks in breath through his teeth. "I fucked this up alright but please, let me atleast try to apologize first, okay?" 

Aziraphale backs up, sets the book on a nearby shelf, and adjusts his vest before giving Crowley a "well go on then" look.

Crowley sighs. "Where was I?" He looks up at the ceiling and what he's about to say comes rushing back to him as do his nerves. He swallows and then forces himself to meet Aziraphale's eyes. "Right, so you got it all wrong basically." Aziraphale opens his mouth to talk over him again but Crowley barrels on. "Let me finish. You're right that I hung up on you and I'm sorry about that. I fucked that up. But you're wrong about why. It's just," he grits his teeth and pushes through it. "I wanted to watch you talk, alright?" He gives a little shrug with his hands. "That's it." 

"Excuse me?" Aziraphale's frown softens just slightly.

"It's just… when you talk about things you're excited about, you," he looks down at the ground before looking back up to meet Aziraphale's eyes defiantly, "You light up, like your whole face glows and you sort of, flit around and make little hand gestures and… you're gorgeous, is what you are." Crowley looks away and starts talking very quickly. "But making you wait was wrong even if my reason wasn't bad because I still made you feel like I didn't care and that's not true. I made a mistake and I'm sorry, alright? I'll do better. Next time, I'll let you tell me whatever you want, no matter where I am. It's not like there won't be plenty of other stories about other stuff you can tell me in person, right?" 

Crowley finally forces himself to look back at Aziraphale and he looks stunned, a slight smile pulling at his lips. "Did you say… gorgeous?"

"Oh come on, Angel," Crowley shakes his head a little. "You've looked in a mirror before, yeah?"

"Yes," Aziraphale smiles even bigger, "but you've never called me gorgeous before?"

"Really?" Crowley shrugs but can feel his stomach do a flip. "Force of habit I guess. Turns out making absolutely sure you don't say something for thousands of years makes it awful hard to get into the habit of saying it again."

"Oh Crowley!" Aziraphale takes a step closer. His eyes are teary but he's beaming. "That long?"

"Why would I lie? To make myself look more like an idiot?"

Aziraphale takes another step closer. "And you really like watching me be excited that much?"

"Nnnn yeah, obviously." Crowley can feel the corners of his lips pulling up and he lets them. 

Aziraphale wiggles happily. "Ohhhh Crowley! I'm sorry I got so testy and assumed the worst-"

"Nothing to apologize for. Like I said, I did it wrong. And now I know better."

"Alright, but I probably should have just said something too. I…" Aziraphale trails off and looks down at his hands before his eyes snap back up. "Oh never mind, where did that cheese get to anyway?" He starts to head towards the stairs. 

Crowley watches him as he passes by, reads his body language and on impulse mostly, moves so that he's casually blocking his way. 

Aziraphale startles a bit but stops trying to leave. "Yes?" 

"Look, I'm not the best at this really but I feel like you're still avoiding something maybe? Like yes, it was rude of me and I won't do it again but-" 

"No but necessary," Aziraphale says hurriedly. "It was rude, period." 

"Right yes, but we've both had terrible phone manners with each other for years-" 

"Which we should stop doing," Aziraphale interjects. 

"Right, but what I'm saying is, was that it, really? Like why would you assume that I, of all people, wouldn't want to hear your story? I mean," Crowley swallows and lowers his voice, "I- love you, right? Did I do something else? Because if I did something else, you need to tell me-" 

"Oh no, it's nothing like that." Aziraphale meets Crowley's eyes and his expression is soft but sad. "I know you love me very much." He reaches up to touch Crowley's cheek. 

Crowley's heart flutters and he wants to kiss Aziraphale very badly but he refrains. Not the right time. "But?" he says, leaning into the touch a bit helplessly all the same. 

Aziraphale lets go of Crowley's face. He looks down and then sighs. "Well, it's mostly just… " He looks up. "As you already know," he tilts his head back and forth as he says, "I did… report to Heaven for 6000 years. And it would perhaps not be…" he spins his hands in front of him in a tight, little circle, "inaccurate to describe them as uh, possibly uneager to hear what I had to say on some issues." He hurriedly adds, "At least some of the time, mind you." 

Crowley feels like his stomach has fallen out and his blood is running hot and sharp under his skin. Of course. How hadn't he figured this out on his own really? He'd even gone up to Heaven for Aziraphale that one time, had heard the way Gabriel had talked to him then. "Shut your stupid mouth and die." 

What had Crowley thought? That they'd been better to him all the other times? Of course not, Crowley knows that they're (almost all) total and complete bastards. He'd just never thought, before right this moment, that it had affected Aziraphale so badly, that Crowley could do something that would remind Aziraphale of them so easily. 

Crowley wants to chuck himself out of the atmosphere, not because he'd die from lack of oxygen but just so he can scream at himself for a good long while and not bother anyone else. He tables that idea for now. Taking care of Aziraphale comes first. 

"Angel," Crowley cups Aziraphale's cheek gently. "I need you to tell me if I ever make you feel like those bastards did ever again, alright?" 

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale leans into his touch. "I do know you are nothing like them at all, I promise. I'm just trying to say that perhaps I am a bit, you know, touchy about the subject, that's all. You are, generally, a very good listener." 

"And I'm just saying that you deserve better than to ever feel like that, okay? You were the best of them. Smarter and kinder and more interesting and… everything. The fact that they couldn't see that just proves how dense they really were." He runs a thumb along Aziraphale's cheek. "So please, talk to me, alright?"

"Well," Aziraphale smiles, "I guess I am always asking you to tell me what's wrong. Perhaps it would be best for me to… practice what I preach as it were." 

"Ughhhhh," Crowley can't help but roll his eyes. "Glad you get it but why did you have to say it like… that?" 

Aziraphale tsks. "Dear, you're being silly." 

"Maybe I-"

Aziraphale reaches up and cups Crowley's opposite cheek. Crowley can feel his heart rate spike and whatever sarcastic words he had planned are entirely lost. 

"So," Aziraphale beams, "you really think I'm… brilliant and gorgeous and kind and-" 

"Y-yeah," Crowley cuts him off before the list gets too out of hand and he dies of embarrassment. "I mean, you know I do."

"Well then, do you think you could, perhaps, tell me just a bit more often?" He strokes Crowley's check with his thumb. "It would mean ever so much to me if you did." 

Crowley is nodding absently before he's even really thought it through at all. But I mean, what is there to think about really? If Aziraphale's going to get this happy and look at him like this everytime, than there really is no other option. Dignity is for other people whose partners don't make their knees feel like jelly. Crowley realizes that he still hasn't said anything in response so he, after a few failed attempts, says, "Sure, will do." 

Aziraphale happy wiggles again. "Oh really?" 

Crowley nods. Can you die from being happy? Is that a thing? 

"Thank you, dear," he says, giving Crowley the softest eyes in existence. "Oh, may I kiss you? Would that be-"

Crowley closes the gap between their lips in an instant, wrapping his free arm around Aziraphale's waist and pulling him in tight. Aziraphale answers by kissing him back tenderly, setting one of his hands into Crowley's hair and another on his waist as he does. Aziraphale's lips are, Crowley is pretty sure, one of the best things to ever happen to him, after Aziraphale himself but before the internal combustion engine. He's not sure how he survived so long without them but now that he's experienced them, he's certain he can't go back. The lingering burn of the very first time and how he'd never thought he'd feel them again comes back to him suddenly and he tries to shove the thought away. He loves you now. It's all fine. 

As if Aziraphale can sense Crowley's need for affirmation, he pushes him quite firmly into the nearest shelf and moans, "Oh Crowley," as he keeps kissing him, which while probably unintentional, does the trick quite nicely. 

****

They end up passing a rather eventful half an hour in which miraculously, all possible customers conveniently just forget that they had planned to stop by A.Z. Fell and Co. Crowley is just coming back up for air, as it were, the edges of his brain all fuzzy and warm when he suddenly remembers something. "Oh the, the funny story, the one from while I was gone. Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off again-" 

Aziraphale leans in and gives him a nice deep kiss before pulling back. "I asked to kiss you, don't you remember?" 

Crowley blinks. That does sound vaguely familiar. 

"My dear," Aziraphale smiles. "Anyway, I think I remember you saying you'd put together a bit of a… charcuterie board with all my favorite cheeses, yes?"

Crowley's brain is starting to work a bit better now. "Y-yeah, I did do that. Even found that one tomato and onion jam from that little farm in Scotland. You remember the one?" 

"Morag Mains? Or something along those lines? I hear they're actually a non-profit that donates all their proceeds to keeping young women off the streets… or something along those lines." 

Crowley's brain processes this and then suddenly, it's like a very bright light turning on in another room. "You don't think?"

Aziraphale smiles and nods. "I very much do think, now that you mention it. Funny old world indeed."

"Huh," Crowley turns this revelation over in his head. "Well, I'll be damned." 

"Oh no," Aziraphale leans in and pecks him on the cheek, "Not so much anymore."

Crowley rolls his eyes. "That was… truly terrible. If I wasn't so into you-" 

"But you are," Aziraphale laces their fingers together and pulls Crowley towards the stairs. "Come along, dear. It's time for cheese. And a story!" 

"Right," Crowley nods, his hand tingly and warm in Aziraphale's grasp. He squeezes back (because he can now). 

"You're going to love this one! It involves a certain Mr. Brown from the local carpet emporium and a mysterious shipment that just arrived at the bookshop earlier today." 

****

Aziraphale is right. Crowley loves the story. Aziraphale is about ten minutes deep into a shocking tale of postal errors, ignorance, betrayal, and definitely the wrong type of carpet indeed, and he's been doing a lot of hand gestures and little voices all the while and Crowley's smiling so much his face hurts. The pangs of despised love or something like that. And even though it's hard and he often feels foolish, Crowley makes a point to cheer Aziraphale on, to tell him how good he's doing (like Aziraphale did undeservingly for that middling Master Burbish back in the day). But everytime a compliment gets him an answering smile from Aziraphale, he knows he's made the right call. 

At one point, Aziraphale breaks his momentum mid-scene to say, "Really my dear, it's okay! You're very sweet but there's no need for you to stop blinking entirely."

Crowley hadn't even noticed he had stopped but he doesn't even try to hide his smile (or his blush) as he says, "It's like I told you, Angel, I don't want to miss a second if it's you." 

And Aziraphale beams like he's the sun (might as well be, far as Crowley's concerned), and Crowley's not sure what he did to deserve him but he's certain that he'll spend the rest of his existence doing his best to keep deserving him all the same.

[foolishlovers]

good omens WIPs i'm loving at the moment

i know starting unfinished fics is not everyone’s cup of tea but comments and encouragement mean so much to writers, so if you have some time to spare, why don’t you check these out

doom days by klytemnestras - 5 years have passed since aziraphale left crowley for heaven. crowley has built a new life for himself and has found some comfort in spending time with muriel & co. but then aziraphale shows up with the messiah baby, hoping for crowley to help him one last time... the found family vibes in this one are just so delightful. crowley and aziraphale have a long way to go to restore their relationship, but it surely is an intriguing one to follow 7.6k, 3/? chapters, rated T

an ineffable midsummer night's dream by the_serpent_and_the_guardian - set in 1605, aziraphale convinces crowley to save shakespeare's latest play - he reluctantly takes on the role of puck (not without some shenanigans ensuing, of course). the banter in this fic is absolutely precious, the writing is so lovely and the dynamic between our beloved almost friends demon and angel is so spot on!! 20k, 4/5 chapters, rated T

living in sin by jade_valentine offers an insight into what could have happened if aziraphale had discovered a little earlier that crowley was living in his car. yes, oh my god, they were roommates. i honestly can't wait to see how their new living arrangement will develop 2.5k, 1/? chapters, rated M

wilde flowers by rocksaltandroll is a human au! starring aziraphale as a lonely bookseller and crowley as the new, handsome florist down the street. maggie, nina and muriel are inspired to do some matchmaking, but the old men seem to be falling for each other even without their meddling... they're both nervous about starting something new, but there's so much fluff, the writing is great and frankly, all whickber street characters are such a joy to read about!! 15k, 4/? chapters, rated M

mon horrible cher by ghostrat is an enemies to friends to lovers fic that features aziraphale and crowley as teachers on a sixth form field trip to paris. they despise each other… until they don't. i have so much love for these characters, the path from annoyance to precious pining is just so good. crowley being good with kids is honestly going to break me at some point. the writing is utterly amazing, just perfect to get lost in, and there's stunning fanart included too 30k, 7/9 chapters, rated M

once upon a time by tawnyowl95 is a human au! with actors (and childhood sweethearts) aziraphale and crowley finding their way back to each other as famous comedian crowley (currently going through a rough patch) accepts aziraphale's offer for him to play the pantomime villain in his production of dick whittington. there's flashbacks to their time at high school and tons of bickering in the present time line, where crowley continues to be quite the troublemaker, keeping aziraphale and everyone else on their toes and i absolutely love it 10k, 4/15, rated E

london, libraries & love by wolftea features librarian! aziraphale and history teacher! crowley. while they're both excited to go on an excursion to london for a couple of days together, at the beginning of their acquaintance, they had quite a hard time warming up to each other.. this fic is so precious, the flashblacks to crowley's first weeks at the school are full of pranks and shenanigans between the two of them that made me laugh so very much. it's so fascinating to explore how their relationship develops over time. the pining in the present is perfectly wholesome as well!! 9k, 5/17 chapters, rated E

[spindlesaurus-rex]

Chapters: 10/10 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley, Crowley/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley (Good Omens), Anathema Device Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, shops across the street, Romantic Comedy, Developing Relationship, past relationship, one night stand appearing again, Eventual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content Summary:

Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

[redshoes-blues]

Chapter one of Holding Love for the Keeping is up!!

For six months after Aziraphale leaves him for Heaven, Crowley watches over the bookshop. Then, one day, he vanishes.

[coldsunlight36]

doing Normal Things (writing fanfic for the first time in years)

[crowleyholmes]

Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is a fanfic writer, and Dream is a fanart artist. They get paired together in a fandom Big Bang (I haven't a clue as to what fandom), which leads to them eventually meeting in person.

I tend to think of Hob and Dream being genderfluid and wearing fabulous clothes when they meet... and fabulous underthings.

Aakajajajah since we recently had the centennial husbands big bang, this feels very appropriate! (Reminder to check out all the wonderful art and fics is you haven't already done so!)

I'm tempted to say that Dream and Hob would both be in the Good Omens fandom. I think ineffable husbands would definitely appeal to both of them, and it's rather funny to imagine Neil's characters reading about... Neil's characters. Anyway, they're paired up for a bang and find out that they live in the same city (London) - not only that, they're in the same borough. It seems only logical to meet up at a local park - there's a nice pub nearby, and it's a public area with plenty of people around. Dream can hear his sister's voice saying "don't meet up with a random Internet weirdo!" in his head, but he goes along anyway.

Hob is dress in a long brown skirt with pleats and ruffles, a burgundy knitted jumper, and big sturdy walking boots. He's also covered in gold jewelry, and has several piercings (maybe more, under the clothes...). Dream is immediately in love. He's wearing his own cute ensemble of fishnets, tiny denim shorts, a huge oversized black hoodie, and so much eyeliner. The vibes between them are immaculate.

Later in the pub's bathroom, Hob hitches up his skirt and lets Dream touch the garter strapped around his thigh. If he's very good, he'll get to touch much more when they get home. They've got a big bang to work on, and Hob wants to gather as much real world experience with Dream as he can before he writes the smut scene...