#I've been waiting for this moment for over 6000 years“

[mintaikcorpse]

I love this photo because this was Aziraphale's reaction after the priest lady interrupted Crowley pinning him to a wall. And he seems bothered by it

[kworus]

As promised, here's an analysis of why I firmly believe Aziraphale's actions in s2e6 are in character and why I don't believe in the coffee theory. Obviously I could be wrong but I've been overanalyzing everything to distract myself from THE HORRORS so here's this. ***good omens s2 spoilers below.*** this is kinda long btw

If yall dont know, the coffee theory revolves around the coffee the metatron gave to Aziraphale, and claims that he was poisoned/brainwashed by said coffee. The two main arguments, excluding that to many aziraphale felt ooc, are that a small miracle sound could be heard and that the metatron puts some attention to the amount of almond syrup in the coffee, as if he was hiding some kind of smell. I lowkey believed this theory because it is true that Aziraphale´s actions feel weird, and something else has to be going on. But that is because we are seeing things from Crowley´s point of views.

Crowley sees this as Aziraphale choosing heaven over him, the same heaven that betrayed him and treated him like shit. On top of that, earlier he saw Gabriel and Beelzebub end up together so easily, and that is just so unfair to him. However, Aziraphale thinks he is not *going back* to heaven, he's changing it, because he truly believes heaven is good, its just the people running him that fuck everything up. Where Crowley saw an injustice with how easy it was for the ineffable bureaucracy aziraphale sees a chance, specially since he's now replacing Gabriel. If he could do it then so can he! He can make heaven worthy of him and Crowley.

Now i want to go back to the metatron for a moment and how i think he really is manipulating aziraphale. If he has the power to brainwash aziraphale to do whatever he wants what is the point of telling him he can be with Crowley to convince him? What the metatron is doing is convincing aziraphale that they are on the same side, after all they both enjoy human food and the metatron doesn't mind that he's with Crowley. It's also important to note that azi doesn't know in detail that even Gabriel couldn't convince the other angels of not making another armageddon. But even if he knew he has the metatron on his side right? He believes it can be different with him in charge. The coffee is just a way for the metatron to show his “human side” to aziraphale.

Back to aziraphale, one of the moments where he felt heavily out of character for me is when he says nothing lasts forever because he spent a whole season saving the earth just so he could enjoy earthly pleasures with Crowley, and he loves his bookshop so much. How can he give this up so easily? But what he probably meant was that he's willing to give everything on earth that he loves to safely be with Crowley, and his only way to do that is to change heaven from the inside. Otherwise, they would be fighting the armageddon over and over again. This IS in character for him if you see it from his perspective.

Finally, if aziraphales decision was only atributed to some kind of brainwashing all of the possible ineffable husbands future arc would lose all its meaning. Aziraphale has said at times that crowley goes too fast for him (he said it about driving too fast but symbolism) 6000 YEARS IS TOO FAST FOR HIM!!! He needs time to process everything and we even have a parallelism with nina and maggie. Everyone was expecting them to immediately end up together just because they fell in love and nina is now single, but she needs time and thats realistic!! Shes not ready for another relationship but eventually she will, and maggie will wait for her. Aziraphale and crowley have a similar situation, only with 6000 years of angst and ineffability. The coffee theory would erase all of the complexity and chance of development of aziraphale character. Lets remember that this is the worlds slowest slow burn, it wont become fast all of the sudden. So i guess we just have to wait and see and thats gonna drive me fucking insane.

[oldpeculier]

I would love to know your overall head-canon as to the timeline of the SOI lore, as I have seen it many ways and it is always interesting to read

*deep breath in* WELL.

Mine probably isn't that different to most people's. Xeph crash lands on Minecraftia and Honeydew finds him and nurses him back to health. They immediately become fast friends. Jaffa Factory + Moonquest happen here. The Labs start up with funding from NASA and eventually their attention is focused purely on that.

The Labs are never... Innocent, let's say, but they begin with better intentions than they end with. Xeph acts as CEO and leading scientist, Lalna is head of cloning, and Honeydew is technically also CEO but you could be forgiven for not realizing it. Lalna leaves due to ethical differences (unaware at that point that Lalnable exists). Due to experiments or bad luck, a clone of Xephos is infected with flux and escapes before it can be killed.

Xeph becomes increasingly sure of his convictions that he should take over the world. Honeydew is kept in a state of mental confusion due to repeat cloning, until his master clone is murdered and he has to take its place. Without Honeydew around, Xeph has nothing to keep him from enacting his plans, and he begins a terrible war with his arsenal of weaponry and robots. He and the facility are eventually buried beneath the rubble of his war, and Israphel (now fully transformed) takes a moment to gloat before sealing himself away in the nether. Xephos did at least have the presence of mind to protect his master clone and Honeydew by moving them to a secret bunker, sealed away for millennia as the cloning machine slowly fixed faults in the DNA of Honeydew's imperfect clone.

They both wake up on a beach, 6000+ years in the future. Neither can remember anything much but they do remember each other. In this new world, they begin building a home, only to be haunted by a strange pale figure who only ever watches from afar. Israphel has been waiting to see them again for a very very long time and he is fascinated by their domestic behavior. The rest of the timeline follows the videos.

I don't know if it's the most creative version, but it's mine! I left a couple of things out that are important for a project that I've got going on but otherwise that's it. I don't really include many of the other Yogs. I didn't watch them as a kid and therefore I kinda forget about them 😬. My main interest is the dynamic between Xephos and Honeydew.

Thanks for the ask :)

[ace-fandom-dumbass]

Hoo boy I have so many thoughts about Good Omens Season 2, hold on let me google how to put a read more on mobile again

Spoilers Below

Okay so immediate gut reaction to the end was obviously "he fucking wouldn't don't you dare" but honestly? He would. He wouldn't want to return without Crowley, but this is Aziraphale, he's really only been doing what he wants with no regard for heaven and what he's "supposed" to do for what, four-ish years? He wouldn't have even thought to try stopping Armageddon if it weren't for Crowley. He's always been the one with the most reservations regarding, well, everything. Talking with Crowley, the Arangement, stopping Armageddon, Aziraphale has always been less certain about those then Crowley, he's always been the one to hesitate or say something is a bad idea. Hes always the one pointing out that their respective head offices wouldn't like this. Of course he'd choose Heaven here, it's what he believes he's supposed to choose. But both of them are rubbish at communicating so he thinks "oh good, things can go back to normal and I can even bring Crowley with me, everything will be fine" and doesn't even put together that this is so, so far from what Crowley would want. Meanwhile Crowley thinks they're on the same page with Their Side and rejecting Heaven and Hell to have that and doesn't even realize that Aziraphale still thinks he's supposed to choose heaven. He's looking at all this and figuring that they can head off like Gabriel and Beelzebub or just stay here with the bookshop and everything will go back to the normal of the past few years, so Aziraphale's choice pops up and smacks him in the face with how wrong he got it

Also, to get side tracked for a moment, Gabriel and Beelzebub. Saw the shippers after season 1, didn't expect it to become canon, very sweet, don't really ship it myself but it's fine, nice enough. Very sad they get a happy ending after what, four years max? and we can't even get these two idiots to communicate properly after 6000 but anyway. Didn't like the fly climbing into Gabriel's eyeball, that was kinda gross and unsettling and ick. All in all, not enough time for me personally to get attached to the idea of them together, but its a fine ship.

I want Crowley to take over the bookshop. I want him to be halfway to his old flat before cursing and turning back because he knows Aziraphale isn't going to like leaving the bookshop and he (Crowley) would sooner return to Heaven then let something bad happen to it again because what if Aziraphale changes his mind? He walks back in and sees Muriel sitting there is Aziraphale's chair reading a book and just freezes like "what are you doing in his chair? Why are you still in his shop?" He lets Muriel stick around because he's been friends with Aziraphale for 6000 years he know what angels are like about jobs they've been given but hes not just going to leave some random angel he barely knows with Aziraphales's shop. I kinda want him to end up sort of adopting her, Aziraphale shows back up and Crowleys like Oh hello Angel didn't expect you back thought youd abandoned your shop and us and Aziraphale's like us? Who is us-oh my I forgot they left someone here wait why are you (crowley) still here

I expected Nina and Maggie to be this seasons Newt and Anathema, which they sort of were, but specifically I expected to spend most of the time thats focused on them waiting for it to go back to the bit i was more intrested in and i was pleasantly suprised, they were far more intresting than newt (i'll be honest he was the boring bit in season 1, anathema's bits only got boring when it was her with newt), plus them calling Crowley out on his and Aziraphale's plan and also on being obviously in love with Aziraphale was great.

I need the studios to get their shit together, I've already got a list of things I was excited for that are now on hold and now I need more of this, so, you know, come on. Studios need to get their shit together and actually work with the writers and actors on a reasonable deal so I can have more of these dumbasses. Stupid studio executives.

Will probably edit with more of my thoughts once I remember them, anyhow

[attollogame]

Read the demo and I'm hooked! Wonderful story, can't wait to see what will happen next! For now my RO of choice has been Sysba (honk ☹), but I read the one ask about how you can't romance them "the normal" way. Can you elaborate? Also every snippet I read featuring them and mc, the relationship between the two is kinda questionable to put it mildly. I understend they're an eldritch horror from the deep space but still going into the romance route I expect at least some emotional connection. For now, as it appears from snippets, as if Sysba in it to kill time and mc is naive to expect smth more. And even in later stages it's not that strong of connection since Sysba already had had it all. Pardon if I came on strong, it wasn't my intention. Just trying to understand what to expect. I'm big coward and afraid of heartbreak 😔

Hi I've had people express similar anxieties over this situation before and I highly advise reading this post pertaining to the issue.

Basically, they've spent over 6000 years on earth. Before that, they were visiting earth frequently for all the wrong reasons. Their goal first and foremost is to find their way off of earth and back into their domain; they know they're going to outlive any human and so they aren't too keen on making deep emotional connections because, what's the point when 80 years to a human is simply a blink of the eye to them? The one time they did let themselves get connected to a human it ended incredibly badly. They are so, so jaded, and so, so tired of everything—despite how I write them, Sysba is not doing okay overall. The confidence? The allure? It's about as fake as an acrylic nail.

Attollo spans 3 books. Over 3 books, things may change regarding this. They may let MC into their world more, they may confide in MC more, they may let MC see how they actually are as an individual, but they aren't going to be asking for hands in marriage by the end of the books I'm afraid. You might not even get a profession of love in a very obvious manner. Sysba isn't human nor are they "good", so writing a typical romance with touching moments and stolen kisses... well, it would feel like I'm doing an injustice to my own character.

I am sorry if this isn't what you wanted to hear. I hope the assurance that you will see change—albeit slow—over the three books helps a bit, but no, I can't write them having an emotional connection to MC within the first two books and have it feel believable. This may explain the snippits and a lot of the other posts with them.

[yostresswritinggirl]

A Yearly Memory

~Zhongli x Reader

Warnings: None

Characters: Zhongli, Lesser God!Reader

Relationship: Ambiguous

Word Count: 1.2k words

A small drabble because I got self-conscious seeing y'all greet the Geo daddy- Happy Birthday, Zhongli hnghhh, first time greeting a fictional character kek and writing in tumblr sooo Enjoy a happy new year and let's hope this one does end happy!

Made this at 2:55 AM so don't expect much kek

Can you imagine 6000 and more years of the same day passing, taking time to organize a feast for that particular date? In their circumstance, time isn't relevant, for Gods who lived beyond a millenia. Honestly, everyone who lived in Celestia saw time as irrelevant and passing, nothing but the sun and the moon exchanging thrones in the sky for 365 rotations.

But for Rex Lapis who prides himself the oldest archon also relives those 6 milleniums ever so clearly.

And in his passing, and even before, he has grown accustomed to the importance of 'time' and 'day' and 'night'.

Yet, he stood atop a grassy cliff, overlooking the harbour of his own land where comes a perfect view of the moon parallel to where he stands.

In this particular day every passing year, he finds himself here as if pulled by the winds himself for reasons he cannot fathom.

"Morax-? Morax!" Calls from behind him accompanied with light footsteps crunching the blades of grass under it. His amber eyes only widen slightly before willing it to pull away from the waves that bounced the moonlight.

"God of Memories— (Y/N), I was not aware of your immigration to Liyue, are you perhaps here to document the coming of the annual departure to a new cycle?"

Your form finally catches up to his side, straightened after gathering yourself from what seems to be a marathon just to find him. The ex-archon besides you possessed a slight smile at the height difference. For it was ironic that despite the same age you had lived (and maybe even more for you, as you had existed whence the first memory had came), he was still very much heads above you, contrasting to him as you don a younger appearance to his olden self.

You carry with you a device he does not recognize and when his eyes bounces back to where yours shine in hidden mischief, you looked at him almost offended, incredulous.

"Mr. Newly-Retired, I've heard you abandoned your position to live among the humans you once overlooked," you didn't even bother to answer him.

He'd perked up, tensing his shoulders, ready to be lectured by yours truly. For after all it was you two left that remained longest standing in the history of higher beings, he'd known you'd feel betrayed that he had just abandoned your side like so.

He opens his mouth to explain— "And so, to start your new chapter, it's only fair we impart to you some human tradition!" and it stays open in confusion.

The glint in your eyes finally surfaces full blown and he couldn't help but relish in that cheeky smile you matched it with, arms shifting to lift the contraption hanging from your neck. "I'm fairly certain I'm accurate on my counting so

Happy 6052nd birthday, Zhongli!"

He hides his raw surprise and fluster in an airy chuckle, following your twinkling giggle as you nudged him with an elbow.

Is that why he's subconsciously sentimental of this day ever since? For it was the exact date but rolled back thousand of years ago, to when he first set foot on Teyvat?

"Birthdays... I didn't even notice, and quiet so early too. Thank you, (Y/N), I am grateful for your time and consideration." Zhongli would flash a smile so sentimental and pure that it almost brings you to your knees with the innocence it carries. He's so precious— precious!

"Y-yes, you are welcome! I would have brought some fresh silk flowers as a gift," he'd tilt his head in silent inquiry as you once again fumbled on the rectangular box, "but such gifts wilts too easily, swept aside in just four days! Too quick and easily forgotten." Now the god before you would love to protest, for everything you'd leave behind for him will always be immortalized in his heart and mind.

"So I created this thing over here! I call it a Kamera!" Despite his confusion over the contraption, your triumphant grin only sends him fluttering and urging you to continue. For others it was a rare sight to see someone else do the talking when Zhongli was part of the conversation, but the man in question also enjoys lending an ear, indulging himself especially when it comes to knowledge he has not heard of. "It freezes a moment in time, capturing it in a parchment to be kept forever. As your first celebration, I wanted to capture it clearly for us to look back to together! Like so!"

Without another word, you had grabbed his forearm to urge him lower, using the same hand to loosely wrap around his neck. He'd almost had to kneel from the height difference as he stumbled upon your forcefulness when a click and a fragment of light sounded from afront before he could get his bearings.

"Tada! Oh look, you look so good in an image, it worked perfectly!"

Your energy matched a very particular person Zhongli had to deal with but yours were refreshing and contagious despite the nigh hours of the night.

He had patted his sleeve straight as he watches you mercilessly flap a piece of paper that somehow appeared on your hand. He has questions, a lot, and he was once again interrupted by you: shoving the paper to his face like it was a trophy of a competition you'd been waiting for your whole life.

It was a portrait but accurately colored and captured to a size as big as his palm. Your arm around his neck with a wide, closed-eye grin while looking straight ahead and him (clearly unprepared) with an obvious surprise and touch of obliviousness, glowing amber eyes slightly trained to your profile.

He was glad he was a professional in keeping a calm composture, because he saw just about the most obvious red dust on his cheeks, now immortalized for everyone who sets their eyes upon on the paper to witness.

"Ah, I'm so happy it worked even when I had to rush it to be on time! Here, keep this, as your birthday gift!" You practically shoved the device and the image to his arms with buzzing excitement and pride. "Happy birthday, again!"

An advance technology constructed with the sole idea of being a gift for him? His appreciation is beyond words that rendered him speechless and you patiently watch him take into account everything that has been thrown at him.

"Zhong-zhong... you're too quiet—"

A snap and a flash blew your pupils and forced you to cover your eyes to rub the spots dancing in your vision. He was a fast learner but damn, he could have warned you of his impulsive ministrations.

As you whine over your semi-blinded state with jumbled protests spewing out of your lips, the man before you holds a euphoric smile over the new paper clutched between his fingers.

It was the best gift he'd ever received in his lifetime.

"Thank you, for this and everything. I hope you know how deeply I appreciate you."

Morax's smile, the God of War, however faltered at the edges when he saw the darkened stare looking down upon him. The twitch of your eyebrow makes a sudden sweat fall off his.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

flustered

(in which the author finds a dozen synonyms for "blush", while heaven and hell go to war. sort of.)

loosely based off this request by @coffeecakecafe! hopefully it falls at least somewhat in line with what you wanted

~*~

The first time Aziraphale held his hand, Crowley's face turned a shade of red darker than the roses he'd brought to celebrate the anniversary of Armageddon't. The angel, thankfully, had politely ignored the demon's flustered reaction and graciously accepted the flowers, commenting about how lovely they'd look on the windowsill above the sink.

The first time Aziraphale hugged him, Crowley thought he was going to have a heart attack. He instead buried his face into the angel's shoulder to hide his embarrassment. Aziraphale, who truly was a literal and figurative angel, had simply chuckled and allowed the demon to stay that way for a moment before taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

They first time they kissed, Crowley was pretty sure he was going to discorporate. Fortunately, he didn't. Unfortunately, he did turn into a snake, which was probably the most humiliated he'd ever been in his life, even if Aziraphale did insist that it was "rather adorable". Apparently pining for 6000 years had done nothing to prepare Crowley for just how overwhelming physical affection could be.

After a while, of course, he got more used to it. In fact, Crowley preferred to be the one to initiate physical affection, though he couldn't deny that he also thoroughly enjoyed when Aziraphale took the lead.

But despite Crowley's adjustment, his angel nonetheless still knew exactly how to make him flustered. The trick was unexpected affection. Or, as Crowley had dubbed it, "surprise attacks".

Sometimes they'd be watching a movie at Crowley's flat, and Aziraphale would rest his head on the demon's shoulder and slip his hand into Crowley's. Crowley, then, would have to pretend that his heart rate hadn't skyrocketed and that his face hadn't reddened like an overripe tomato.

Other times they'd be sitting on a bench in the park, talking about everything and nothing, and Aziraphale would lean over and press a kiss to the demon's temple. Crowley would blush and demand to know what, exactly, the angel thought he was doing, to which Aziraphale would respond with "you look adorable when you're flustered, my dear".

But, no matter what he tried, Crowley could never make Aziraphale flustered. This was not to say he couldn't satisfy the angel, of course. He knew very well that Aziraphale did not mind being pushed up against the wall every so often. Aziraphale was also fond of being on the receiving end of spontaneous acts of affection. (Oftentimes being pushed up against the wall was a spontaneous act of affection.)

But nothing got Aziraphale flustered. Surprise makeout sessions, PDA, whatever - while it was all enjoyable for the both of them - could not get a reaction out of the angel. And really, that was frustrating Crowley to no end.

(He'd even resorted to asking Beelzebub for advice. The two demons had been on much better terms after the Prince of Hell had hooked up with the archangel Gabriel. Despite their similar situations, Beelzebub's advice was virtually useless. If anything, their situations were too similar. Beelzebub also seemed to be the one who got flustered.)

Crowley didn't give up, of course. It was almost ridiculously satisfying to see Aziraphale blush and he'd be damned - again - if he couldn't figure out the trick to getting the angel flustered.

One day, he got lucky.

They were at the Ritz, playing out their usual routine where Aziraphale would eat and ramble aimlessly while Crowley sipped at water or wine and listened. At that moment, the angel was chattering excitedly about how he was going to acquire a limited edition of the The Crucible soon and that he couldn't wait to examine Arthur Miller's notes -

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear. This must be terribly boring for you."

Crowley chuckled, offering Aziraphale a rare smile. "Not at all. You get this sort of spark in your eyes when you're excited about something. It's... endearing."

Aziraphale blushed. "O-Oh. Well, as long as - as long as you're sure you don't mind."

"Honest, angel. It's fi -" He cut himself off and did a double take of the situation in front of him. Hold the phone, ladies and gents and other respectable folk. "Wait. Are you blushing?"

Aziraphale's face turned a deeper shade of pink. "You simply caught me off guard, that's all. And not to mention we're in public -"

"Oh my Go - Sata - fuck." Crowley ran a hand through his hair, internally cursing his obliviousness. "Compliments! That's it!" Of course it would be compliments that got his angel flustered. Aziraphale was a reader, a writer - words meant everything to him.

Aziraphale frowned, trying and failing to send Crowley an intimidating glare. "I haven't any idea what you're referring to."

"Oh?" Crowley raised an eyebrow, unable to keep a satisfied smirk off his lips. "So you wouldn't care if I said that you were the most good-looking person in this room? That when you slowly lick food off your lips it's so damn enticing? That the way you scrunch your nose up when you think is ridiculously adorable? That -"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale interrupted, his face so red it could have resembled the perfectly ripe apple from Eden. "You're embarrassing me. What if someone overheard you?"

"Then they'd think we're two humans - definitely not supernatural beings - that are in love and enjoying a wonderful evening together."

"But still!"

"Well, I've got some bad news for you, angel." Crowley leaned over the table and whispered, "I love how you cute you look when you're flustered."

Aziraphale buried his face in his hands, muffling his reply. "I hate you."

"Psh," Crowley scoffed. "You love me."

Aziraphale moved his hands away to glare at the demon. "You have no what you've just started."

"Oh, but I think I do." Crowley rested his chin on his hands, grinning. "But if it means I get to see this side of you more often, then I don't think I mind. You're hot when you're angry."

"Crowley!"

The demon chuckled but decided to let his angel off the hook. "Alright, alright. Finish telling me about The Crucible. What kind of notes do you expect Miller's written?"

Aziraphale brightened up immediately, launching into detail about the parallels between the Salem Witch trials and the two Red Scares in America.

Crowley did his best to listen, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his newfound discovery. Compliments! Really, he should have seen that coming. He'd have to start writing down every possible way to flatter the angel. That would be his ammunition for this war.

And really, for better or for worse, Crowley had indeed declared war by pushing the angel as far as he had. Of course, this was a war he intended to win.

Huh. It seemed Heaven and Hell would be going to battle after all.

"I know what you're thinking."

Crowley blinked, Aziraphale's voice pulling him out of his thoughts. "What?"

"You think you're going to defeat me." Aziraphale dabbed his mouth with his napkin before placing his hands on his lap. "I suggest you rid yourself of that foolish notion immediately."

Crowley opened his mouth to counter, but he froze as he felt a hand gently tracing circles on his upper thigh.

"My dear boy." Aziraphale smirked, his blue eyes burning with heat more intense than hellfire. "You don't stand a chance."

~*~

[iamvegorott]

My sister wanted to send in a prompt so this one is from her, I'll send one in separately "Why are you looking at me like that?" And the I've been waiting 6000 years kiss with the word Kitchen!

Wanna help me and give me some support for more works?|Donate To My PayPal|

Anti softly hummed to himself as he stood at the stovetop, slowly stirring the custard he was trying to make. He could never get it quite right but he was on a good path this time. All he needed to do was keep stirring. 

“I’ll put Yandere on that, goodbye.” Dark pressed the ‘end call’ button on his phone as he stepped into the kitchen, expecting to be either alone or with one other since there weren’t any loud sounds, no yelling, no clanging and out of all the egos to be quietly working in the kitchen, Anti was one of the last ones Dark would have expected.

Dark took a moment before speaking or even moving so that he could get a good view of what was occurring. Anti was wearing his usual black shirt and ripped jeans, but his body was covered with a full length, white, apron. A white apron. When did Anti ever wear anything that wasn’t black or at least just as dark? Anti also normally would let the wound on his neck be free since it was a part of him and was immune to infection and was closed most times unless he was in a high state of stress or any type of strong emotions but Anti actually had a bandage covering it. Not much of a bandage since it was just gauze wrapped around his neck, but it was still covered nonetheless. It was strange to see Anti like this, but Dark couldn’t help from feeling a warmth in his chest. 

He actually found himself slowly heading over to Anti, his eyes fixated on the small smile he was able to see when he got closer. Dark wasn’t sure what was happening to him, why did he want to be near Anti? Why was he fighting the urge to reach a hand out and place it on Anti’s arm, to get his attention, to look at him and only him? 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Anti’s voice snapped Dark out of his trance. 

“Huh?” Was all Dark could manage to blurt out. 

“You’re looking at me like I’m a slice of meat, it’s weird.” Anti wasn’t even looking at Dark as he spoke. “It’s not even a ‘damn I want to fuck that’ look, it’s something different and it’s weird.” 

“You look nice,” Dark said, scolding himself internally. What was happening to him?

“I’m covered in flour and eggs.” Anti laughed, stopping when Dark reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. “What are you-” Anti was cut off by Dark pulling him into a kiss. Anti dropped his spoon and turned his body fully towards Dark, moving his hands to the back of Dark’s head and deepening the kiss. 

“I’ve waited six thousand years for that kiss.” Dark hummed to himself.

“We’ve only known each other for six, dumbass.” Anti chuckled, happily leaning against Dark as his waist was held. 

“I’ve been a consciousness for much longer.” 

“Old man.” Anti teased. “But I think I can handle it.” He added with a smirk before suddenly sniffing the air and going stiff. “My custard!” Anti yelped and hopped away from Dark, quickly stirring for a few moments before slumping over. “It’s lumpy.” He grumbled and turned off the stove. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dark said in a straight tone as Anti went over to the sink.

“Suck a dick, Dark.” Anti huffed. “Now I-”

“Okay.” Anti stopped when Dark spoke and when he saw the smirk on Dark’s face, he dropped the pot in the sink. 

“Well, that’s forward.” Anti chuckled.

“Are you complaining?” Dark stepped up to Anti.

“Hell no.” Anti grabbed Dark’s face and yanked him in for a kiss, showing that he had no hesitation at all. Dark could only hold anti closer to himself before snapping his fingers, sending the two away in a cloud of black smoke. 

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

to be selfish

(in which plans are ruined, sparks fly, and selfish, selfish choices are made)

based on this prompt by @alltheprettygirlsintheworld!

id also like to thank @alltheprettygirlsintheworld for always reblogging my writing and leaving kind comments!! your support means the world to me 💕 i hope this fic is at least somewhat like what you were looking for!

~*~

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong.

Luck of the devil, Crowley supposed, though by that he meant he had the worst luck in history.

The picnic had been rained out, the Bentley had broken down, and even after miracling the poor car back into shape, Crowley and Aziraphale had gotten stuck in a line of traffic that hadn't moved whatsoever in the past fifteen minutes.

Worst of all, Crowley's plan had also been completely and utterly ruined. 6000 years of waiting washed down the drain. Quite literally, too.

Damn thunderstorm.

Needless to say, the demon was not in a cheerful mood.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale murmured. An open book was resting on his lap, though even out of the corner of his eye Crowley could tell the angel wasn't reading it.

He sighed. "Not your fault. Last I checked, angel, you can't control the weather."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean, I am sorry it rained." Aziraphale closed his book after tucking a bookmark between the pages. "I'm sorry you're so disappointed, my dear. I know how much effort you put into planning this. Finding the right spot, and preparing the food yourself and all." His chewed on his lip. "Is there anything I can do, or say to - to cheer you up?"

Crowley chuckled, leaning back into his seat and turning to offer the angel a soft smile. Traffic wouldn't be moving anytime soon. He could afford to take his eyes off the road for a few seconds. "You can agree to come on a picnic with me whenever it's not raining."

Aziraphale beamed at him, and Crowley's heart jumped into his throat, as it so often did when his angel smiled. "That sounds lovely, my dear. I'd be delighted to join you again."

Crowley absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the conversation passed. He frowned. "You do know, angel, that you don't have to apologize for anything. I should be the one saying sorry for not checking the weather report before we left."

A tiny smile crept onto Aziraphale's lips. "I suppose we're both apologizing for things we don't need to, then."

"I guess we are."

Silence fell between them. The Bentley inched forward as rain pattered softly on the roof. Lightning flashed a brilliant purple in the sky, followed by a deep echo of thunder.

Aziraphale finally said with a huff, "Oh, just spill it, Crowley. It is not like you to be so - so mute when it comes to a few cancelled plans. Especially something like this. What are on Earth are you not telling me?"

Crowley's grip tightened on the steering wheel. This was not a topic he wanted to discuss. Not now, at least. Not without preparation. He didn't dare turn to look at Aziraphale. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"My dear, you are radiating dejection. It's almost smothering! Why can't you just be honest with -" Aziraphale cut himself off with a shuddering sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was even. Gentle. "Please. Tell me what's wrong."

Crowley's gaze remained steadfast on the road in front of him. "Nothing's wrong. I would tell you if there was a problem."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't. You never talk about your feelings. Not with me."

Crowley stiffened so sharply at the angel's words that he nearly snapped off part of the steering wheel.

"Good Lord!" Aziraphale exclaimed, startled by his abrupt reaction. "What was that all about?"

Crowley didn't respond, praying the angel wouldn't connect the dots.

(Then again, since when had God ever listened to his prayers?)

"Feelings," Aziraphale murmured. He blushed. "I'm going to make an educated guess, my dear, that you were planning to talk about... Our relationship."

Crowley bit back a sigh. Now it wasn't even worth trying to change the subject. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Not like it matters anymore." A lie. "Don't know if you noticed, angel, but whatever I might or might not have planned has gone to shit now."

Aziraphale chuckled. "It's not that bad." He reached over, gently cupping Crowley's cheek before slowly turning the demon's head to face him. "Look at me, my dear."

Crowley was distinctly aware of how red his face had to be. Extremely embarrassing. "But traffic -"

"- won't be moving for another hour. We both know that."

He hated it when the angel had a point. He sighed, reluctantly taking his hands off the steering wheel and turning so his body also faced Aziraphale. "Okay. I'm looking at you."

"Now tell me what you planned to say at the picnic."

Crowley exhaled, though it sounded more like a hiss. "I can't."

Aziraphale frowned. "Why not?"

"I just can't, angel!" he snapped. "I don't know what the hell I was going to say." Not entirely a lie. He didn't have a speech prepared or anything. All he'd wanted to do was hold the angel's hand and - and see what happened after that.

He couldn't risk going too fast.

Aziraphale softened. He had an uncanny way of knowing when the demon was being honest. "Alright. Then I'll tell you what I planned to say."

Calling that an unexpected reply would have been an understatement. Crowley somehow managed to nod in response.

Aziraphale fiddled with his pinky ring, taking a deep breath before he began. "I know that you love me, my dear, though I also know you would never allow yourself to admit that out loud. I can feel your love. I've felt it since - well, since the beginning, I suppose. But I have never said that I love you, dear boy. And since there's no time like the present..." He bit his lip. "I love you, too, Crowley. So very, very much. And I have for far longer than I dare to admit."

Inside, Crowley was already aware of this. He couldn't detect love like angels could, but he was no idiot. And Aziraphale had never been good at hiding his feelings. Eyes were windows to the soul, after all.

"And - And I'm sure you're wondering why I waited so long to say anything," Aziraphale continued. "But I was afraid, Crowley! Afraid of what Hell would do to you if they ever found out about - about us." He stared at the demon, and Crowley's heart clenched as he saw tears glistening in the angel's eyes. "For me... I knew that if I Fell, I Fell. So be it. But for you the only consequence would have been complete destruction! I couldn't risk that something horrible happened to you because of my - because of my selfishness."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Your selfishness?"

Aziraphale managed a weak laugh. "Yes. Me, selfishly wanting to be with you. To be able to love you without worrying about any of the consequences. Just... Us."

Crowley didn't know how to respond. Or maybe it was the lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. Either way, he was silent.

"But I've had enough of the - the bullshit from our head offices. I'm allowed to be selfish every once in a while! And I don't care if that makes me unangelic!" Aziraphale reached out to take Crowley's hands in his. "I'm ready to go as fast as you want, Crowley. Anywhere you go, from Earth to Alpha Centauri, I will be there. With you. Even if that means you end up driving this blasted car a hundred miles over the speed limit."

Crowley chuckled, squeezing the angel's hands. Everything he'd ever wanted to hear was finally being said, but now that the moment had come, he could hardly process it. "Angel," he finally whispered, "I think... I think I might be in love with you."

Aziraphale laughed, freeing one of his hands to reach up and wipe away tears trickling down his face. "Think? My dear, I know you are."

Time stood still as Crowley took off his sunglasses and tossed them into an empty cupholder before slowly leaning towards Aziraphale, his head tilted, eyes shut, and his lips parted ever so slightly -

Then he hesitated.

There is no "our side"!

I don't even like you!

You go too fast for me, Crowley.

He couldn't do it.

"Dammit," he muttered, letting his head fall and come to rest on the angel's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," was Aziraphale's reply before he lifted Crowley's chin and closed the distance between them.

The kiss was gentle. Tender. And hesitant, neither wanting to rush the other. It was a kiss filled with patience and 6000 years of waiting, a kiss burning with passion and 6000 years of longing. Perhaps there was even a bit of temptation.

(Who was doing the tempting, well, neither could say.)

The kiss was broken when the car behind them blared its horn, startling the both of them.

"Bastard," Crowley muttered as he drove the Bentley less than a car-length forward. "As if moving up five feet really makes a difference."

Aziraphale chuckled. "Humans always have places to be and things to do."

"Yeah, well, if he really needs to be somewhere, he might as well get out of his car and start walking."

"I suppose we're lucky we don't have plans."

Crowley snorted. "You may not have plans, angel, but I do."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "Really? What plans do you have?"

Crowley smirked. "I was planning to convince you to be selfish and kiss me again. Preferably more than once."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, though Crowley didn't miss the small smile dancing on his lips. "Oh, you're ridiculous."

"Mm. I know. And you love it."

"Well..." He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I do."

(Although, as it turned out, his angel didn't need much convincing. It was also no coincidence that the Bentley started to play "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy" on repeat - and refused to stop. Some things, it seemed, were simply fated to be. A little selfishness never did harm anyone, after all.)

~*~