#Ineffable husbands x child reader

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

Hihi !! Before i request I just love your writing so much and I couldn’t resist to request this!!

Could I request a teen! Reader (angel) who’s sees crowley & aziraphale as their parental figures who is trying to make something nice for them?

The reader is super silly and innocent so like the stuff they make look like something else 💀

Handmade

Ineffable Husbands x teen!angel!reader

Summary: Y/n wants to do something special for their favorite angel/demon duo. So, they try their ethereal hand at the human art of crafting.

Content: y/n uses they/them pronouns, improper use of miracles,

Note: Anon, you're such an absolute sweetheart. I appreciate you so much. Unfortunately, I didn't realize what you meant by 'something else' until after but hopefully you still enjoy the fic.

Rating: 14+ || 500+ w.

Gifts were important. Gifts were a way of expressing profound love for an individual, at least that is what Aziraphale had taught you. Gifts meant a lot; they were a language all their own. Gifts meant I love you.

Gifts were hard.

You stared at the heaping pile of crafting utensils Maggie from the record shop had leant you. There were a lot of options and she had even been kind enough to make you a list of ideas, the only problem was that none of it seemed quite right for Aziraphale and Crowley.

You stared at the felt and the streamers and silently willed yourself to come up with an idea, but nothing happened. Sighing, you sat back with your shoulders pressing against the side of Aziraphale's desk. It was lucky that they were out, the sight of you sitting on the floor surrounded by confetti might raise an alarm. Or perhaps not, you were prone to floor sitting.

You tossed your head back against the leg of the table and the telephone jingled with the bang. Perhaps you should call her and ask for her help, but no, this was your idea, and it would make it even more special if you did it yourself. There had to be something you could make.

Your eyes drifted to a stray bottle of silver glitter and stayed there, staring with such mindless intensity it was a miracle the tension didn't cause the bottle to bust. Miracles. You could use a little miracle of your own right about now.

"Wait," you sat up too quickly, dizzying yourself, and snatched up the little plastic bottle of glitter. "If it's only a small miracle, and one for good, then I can't possibly get in trouble for it. And it's still like I'm making it myself, because I am." A smile stretched wide across your face, and you turned to the plant in the corner, "This is going to be perfect."

Hours later, when Crowley and Aziraphale arrived back at the bookshop, there was a notable difference to the building. That being because the entire inside of the bookshop had turned into a Victorian style ballroom. "Right, well...what's all this?" You beamed at the demon from where you stood in the center of the large room. "Suprise! It's a gift!"

Aziraphale's face went from something sad - which you had luckily missed - to something proud and beaming. "A gift, yes! And, oh, how wonderful!" Crowley didn't look quite as convinced. However, he perked up quite notably when the record player you had been fiddling with started to play Queen's Somebody to Love. You offered a hand to both fellow angel and the demon in front of you, "Care to dance?"

"Why certainly!" Aziraphale answered for the both of them, whatever complaint Crowley had been about to give died in his throat as he was yanked along. As you danced, you made a mental note to thank Maggie for the record next time you saw her. Perhaps you might even thank her with a gift.

|| masterlist || navigation ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Ineffable Husbands/Good Omens copyrighted by Neil Gaiman©

[book-place]

Fears and Facing Them

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Ineffable Husbands x daughter reader

Request: Crowley x Aziraphale x child reader (6 years old maybe), who caught Crowley in snake form and got scared because they have Ophidiophobia but after being comforted by Aziraphale, the child accepts it and actually likes to play with Crowley (crowley thinks the child is annoying but still loves the child) while he's in his snake form

Request by: @popfishjr

*not my gif*

Summary: You felt better about conquering your fear knowing it was just your father

A/N: Not proof read- I’m in a rush so I’ll do it later :)

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You hummed an off tune melody to yourself quietly as you stacked legos together from where you lay, sprawled out on your living room floor.

Your fathers were both upstairs, to your knowledge, but you were fine with that. Contempt in your own little world of play.

That was, until a small hissing sound rang out and reached your ears, so faint that you almost couldn’t hear it as you placed another lego piece together with another.

With that, you paused, head turning from side to side in confusion as you tried to locate the source of the noise. When you came up empty handed though, you simply shrugged and went back to your building blocks as if nothing had happened.

When the hiss sounded again though, you could no longer ignore it, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Quickly, you dropped your toys and rose to your feet, eyes narrowed as they scanned the room for any sign of where the noise was coming from.

That’s when your eyes landed on it- or him.

Crowley didn’t know what he was doing to be completely honest, he knew that you had a fear of snakes- or Ophidiophobia, as Aziraphel kept reminding him. But he hadn’t thought anything of it when he transformed into his reptile form, if not to simply have the feel of it again. He had thought you were in your room however, or he probably never would have done it.

As soon as your eyes latched onto your- unknown to you- father, you let out a horrible shriek and quickly scampered up onto the nearby couch, trying to put as much distance between you and the snake as possible.

Crowley paused, confusion overtaking his senses as he momentarily forgot about your fear for the animal, and just sat there, staring up at you.

There was a clatter behind him as Aziraphel rushed down the stairs in order to see what was going on.

“What ever is the matter, young one?” Your father asked, striding over and scooping you up into his warm hold.

“Snake, papa!” You cried, “Snake!”

The angels eyes drifted over to his husband for the first time since entering the room and the reality of the situation seemed to click in both of their heads at the same time.

Right away, Crowley transformed back, not wanting to frighten you more than he already had, watching as your eyes went wide.

“Hush, it’s alright, darling. There, there.” Aziraphel soothed, throwing Crowley an extremely rare harsh look as he rubbed up and down your back.

“D-dad?” You hiccuped, looking at the demon with wide eyes.

He hesitated before nodding, “Yes, it’s me, child.”

“W-why were you a-a sn-snake?” You stuttered out, resting your cheek against Aziraphels shoulder.

“It’s- that’s just something I can do.” He admitted, sounding meek for the first time in a long while.

“You’re just the snake?” You asked softly, “It’s not a scary monster?”

Crowley felt as if his heart melted when you unknowingly admitted that you didn’t think he was a scary monster- unlike the rest of the world.

A silence settled over your little family before you spoke up again, small bursts of confidence seeping into your question, “Can you turn back into a snake?”

Your father hesitated, looking to his husband, only to not be offered an answer. But after a moment, he did what you asked.

Instead of shrieking and cowering away like he had expected you to, you just stood there for a few seconds, blinking down at him, before slowly peeling yourself from your fathers hold and approaching the other one in snake form.

Then, without any sign of fear or hesitation, you reached over and patted the top of his head, “Hi, daddy.” You giggled.

It might have been hard to see, but snake-Crowley grinned oh so very bright in that moment.

Ineffable Husbands 😇- @popfishjr @etanordoesbullsh1t

[strangesthirdeye]

Grumpy Star (Ineffable hubbys x toddler fem! Reader)

Summary: Little Star is not feeling well, what can the two celestial dads do for little Star to return to normal?.

Warning: Ineffable hubbys is everything. No episode 6 allow, sick reader, chicken porridge, cuddle, fluff, love, Aziraphale can cook better than Crowley, sweet, Aziraphale is Papa, Crowley is Daddy, miracle there, miracle here,

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Rise and shine, my star. wake up, Papa make your favorite breakfast" Aziraphale chimed as he opened the curtains of your room, letting the sun come in to brighten your room.

You groaned uncomfortably at the interruption of your sleep before pulling the blanket over your face. Hiding your face from the light shining on your warm face. Sweat covering your body as your body seemed to shiver under the blanket. Aziraphale smiled before he took a seat on your bed.

"come on, love. You don't want your dad to finish your favorite pancakes, do you?" Aziraphale said.

You were just silent and still in that position without even looking at Aziraphale. Your body shivered with chill and warmth in your body. Aziraphale frowned at the lack of reaction from you. Usually you would wake up excited as soon as he mentioned your favorite breakfast but now you seemed like you didn't normally do it.

You seem wrong. Aziraphale started holding out his hand to pull your blanket. As soon as his fingers touched and pulled the blanket that covered you, he was shocked when he discovered your condition.

Your face is pale, your body is shaking and full of sweat. You still closed your eyes as your breathing seemed to be panting. Aziraphale's face began to change. He started to touch your head but when his skin touched your dampened skin, he pulled his hand back. Your skin is hot and cold at the same time, that's why you're shivering. Aziraphale began to be concerned with your conditions.

"my dear, you... You are sick" Aziraphale said with great concern.

It is normal for humans if they have a fever but for you who was born with a miracle by two celestial being not to mentioned that you are half demon and half angel, it is quite impossible for you to feel sick.

"just- just hold on, papa will come back to you later, okay?" Aziraphale assured before he rushed out of the door.

Crowley who is sleeping sprawled on the sofa did not notice his husband rushing to the kitchen to retrieve a cloth and a basin filled with water. Aziraphale stopped his walk when he noticed that Crowley was still sleeping after being woken by him a thousand times that morning.

He grumbled and ignored his sleeping demon to go to your room. He opened the door again but this time slowly and with any noise as he knows that you are not in the mood for that. He put the basin filled with water on the table next to your bed before he dipped the cloth into the basin and squeezed it to leave it wet and folded it before placing it on your forehead.

You flinched at the sudden coldness before relaxing and letting the cold seep into your warm skin. You sighed heavily. Even your breath is warm.

Aziraphale rubbed your hair gently. "don't move too much, dear. You must rest to be healthy. I'll tell daddy to bring you medicine while I cook chicken porridge for you"

You grumbled with approval before snuggling into your thick blanket for comfort. Aziraphale sends you a sympathetic look before he gets up and walks downstairs to the kitchen. Before he went to the kitchen, he managed to wake up Crowley, who was still sleeping and didn't think about the world, finally woke up from his slumber. Maybe him being a snake requires a good enough sleep.

"Crowley, I need you to bring medicine to Y/n's room, now while I prepare chicken porridge for her." Aziraphale ordered.

Crowley grunted sleepily. "Ugh.. why would I bring medicine to Star's room? Why do you want to cook chicken porridge? Didn't you make pancakes?"

"the pancakes can wait but Y/n can't. She's sick.. And it's quite rare for an angel or demon to get sick. Let alone half angel and half demon. She's still on the bed and doesn't have the energy to wake up so you go bring medicine for her to eat before I bring chicken porridge to her" Aziraphale strode past Crowley who was still sitting sprawled on the sofa.

Crowley straightened himself from his hunched position. "Star is sick? But that's impossible. Celestial beings never get sick. They are immune to all kinds of diseases and viruses"

"That's what I said earlier, it's quite rare for celestial beings to get sick. I don't know how sick she is but all I know is her body temperature is up. Now go get the medicine and give it to Y/n" Aziraphale ordered as he reached for a medium-sized pot and a soup spatula.

Crowley made a sound as if he was just agreeing to what his husband told him. He stood up and took medicine from the medicine cabinet hanging on the wall next to the kitchen before he moved to your room.

"and don't use miracle! we don't know how sick she got plus I don't want the upstairs to know that we used a miracle to cure her.. I don't want them to know about her.. they will take away my baby" Aziraphale said to Crowley but the last sentence Aziraphale muttered to himself.

Crowley waved his hand as if dismissing what Aziraphale warned him. As soon as he arrived in front of your door, he slowly opened the door of your room and peeking his head to see how you were.

You were snuggling into your thick blanket with folded damp cloth on your forehead. Your eyes are closed so that means you are sleeping but Crowley noticed that your chest is rising up and down very rapidly which makes Crowley worried. He never saw you like this. His Star is always happy and energetic all the time but this time his Star looks very weak and not energetic.

Crowley strode towards you slowly with medicine in his right hand. He didn't want to disturbed your sleep. You need enough rest. He noticed your forehead was wet with sweat. He put the medicine on the table next to your bed and then slowly sat down on the bed next to you. He reached out his hand on your warm cheek.

"Star? hey.. wake up.." Crowley called softly.

You groan tiredly but your eyes still don't open.

"come on, you should take your medicine before anything else happens" Crowley patted your cheeks gently.

"no medicine.. Medicine doesn't taste good" you mumbled tiredly.

Crowley huffed a laugh. "Oh, Y/n..Come on, you should take medicine" he poked your cheek several times trying to wake you up.

You whined in protest then waved your hand to block your dad's hand from your face before opening your eyes. Your eyes are very tired showing that you really have no energy.

Crowley grinned. "there you go"

you started to sit and lean your back on the headboard. You glanced at your dad with extra tiredness and dissatisfaction.

Crowley frowned. "don't make such a face at me, it's your Papa fault who told me to take the medicine. Besides, you have to get up to eat later" Crowley reached for the medicine on the table and opened the lid of the medicine and poured the liquid into the spoon.

You face away from the strong smell of medicine. "nooo"

"just one spoon of medicine and then you can rest" Crowley put the spoon in your mouth.

"noo.. it doesn't taste good" You protested.

"what kind of medicine tastes good? It just tastes bitter and it won't last long.. come on, Star" Crowley said, bringing the spoon closer to your mouth.

You grunted grumpily before opening your mouth and letting Crowley spoon the medicine into your mouth. Immediately a bitter taste was felt in your throat making you grimaced with disgust.

"there, isn't it nice?" Crowley joked.

You whine grumpily before laying back down and facing away from your dad, sulking.

Crowley sighed. "just don't sleep yet, your papa will come up and bring food. You must eat."

You hummed before closing your eyes tiredly. Crowley rubbed your back soothingly. A knock was heard before the door was opened by Aziraphale with a tray of chicken porridge and water in both hands.

He glanced at his husband and daughter with concern. "how is she?"

"just the same" Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale nodded his head then moved to the other side of the bed, facing Crowley. He looked at you worriedly.

"Y/n, dear. Get up and eat.. You have to eat if you want to be well" Aziraphale said while placing the tray of chicken porridge on his lap.

"I don't feel like eating.. " you mumbled.

"Well, you need to eat also to get your energy.. Please" Aziraphale urged you.

"My head hurts" You said.

"i know, my dear.. come on, wake up and eat" Aziraphale said.

Finally, you got up and sat down, leaning heavily on the headboard to support your weak body. Crowley rubbed your hand with comfort.

Aziraphale started to feed you with the chicken porridge from time to time even though you were a bit hesitant to eat because you could feel your body as if it was rejected to eat and would vomit later which thankfully it would not happen.

After just eating and drinking, Aziraphale gave the food tray to Crowley to place on the bedside table where the medicine was placed. You lie back down and close your eyes which leads you to sleep. Aziraphale held your tiny hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand while Crowley held your other hand.

"What do you think, angel? She's being sick?" Crowley glanced at his husband expecting some explanations from him.

"I don't know, Crowley.. it's a bit sudden. She shouldn't be sick. She's literally immune to everything" Aziraphale replied as he looked at you with concern.

Crowley sighed. "whatever it is, she will be okay and not sick anymore"

Aziraphale nodded. "yes.."

The two partners start to be quiet as they don't want to disturb you anymore, their eyes still on you in case you suddenly feel uncomfortable and need them, they will be by your side. But eventually, Aziraphale needs to go downstairs and wash the bowl of porridge and the glass he brought earlier. He told Crowley to pass the tray of food placed on the table next to him which Crowley obeyed but then stopped suddenly.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley confused. "Crowley?"

"Angel.. " Crowley called, eyes still on the food tray.

"yes? what's wrong?" Aziraphale began to worry.

"I think I know why Star is sick" Crowley began to lift the food tray and show it to her husband.

Aziraphale gaped at the sight of a clean bowl and glass that had absolutely no leftover food. Everything is clean as if it had just been washed. clean and shiny bowls, spoons and glass.

"that's.. she-" Aziraphale tried to make an assumption. "You don't use miracle right?"

"no.. you?" Crowley asked

Aziraphale shook his head. "no"

"I think, Star is sick because she finally got her first miracle" Crowley said then looked at you impressed.

"That's why she suddenly got sick" Aziraphale beamed excitedly.

"ahh, this is great.. Star finally got her first miracle" Crowley cheered lowly as he didn't want to disturb your sleep.

"i know.. ohh, I'm so proud of her, Crowley.. Our baby has grown up" Aziraphale beamed.

"does that mean I can take her in the Bentley with me?" Crowley suddenly asked.

"No" Aziraphale replied.

"wha- why? you said before that not until she got her first miracle.. Now she has got her first miracle! Don't let me start that her age is not enough because she is three years old now." Crowley protested.

"But the way you drive the Bentley is dangerous" Aziraphale said.

"I'm not that crazy to drive a Bentley at high speed with a toddler in the Bentley" Crowley argued.

"Fine you can take her" Aziraphale gave in.

Crowley smirked with victory

"well, I love you, Angel"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I love you too, Crowley"

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Thunderstorm - Good Omens.

Summary: Thunderstorms had been one of your biggest fears since childhood and a big storm is on its way, but Aziraphale promises he will be with you. And a sweet surprise makes dealing with the storm much easier.

Warnings: Fear of thunderstorms (Astraphobia), Panic, anxiety, crying, angst, fluff.

Pairing: Ineffable husbands x GN!reader

Word count: 2,176.

The air was dense and suffocating as I wandered through the streets of Soho, rushing to get home as fast as possible before the rain started. Clouds above my head blackened as the minutes passed, only making my steps faster and more urgent. I half expected to see the Bentley parked outside the shop in its usual spot as home came into view but the space was empty, sadness settling in my stomach though I couldn't tell if it was the fact he wasn't there or the looming storm or maybe a mix of both.

"I'm home," I called through the shop as I shut the door with cold, shaking fingers. There didn't seem to be anyone in the shop as I glanced around before taking off my shoes and jacket, walking through to the back room to put them away and grabbing my slippers and cardigan. I hummed to myself as I picked up the fresh cup of tea that seemed to be miracled to stay hot on the side, smiling at the notion. A sigh of relief sounded through the room as I sipped it, the taste and warmth settling me down. "Where are you, Honey?" My eyes scanned the room only to come up with nothing.

"Just a moment Love," A familiar voice called, making me grin. "I'm just shelving some of the newest materials." I rolled my eyes at his antics as I held my cup with clasped hands to warm them up. A mess of white curls came into view as the Angel appeared from behind one of the shelves, books stacked up so high I couldn't see his face as he balanced them. I giggled at him, placing down my cup, grabbing a few of the books from the pile and shifting them into my own arms. "Hello, Love." The grin on his face made his blue eyes shine and I smiled back, shaking my head before pressing my lips to his gently.

"Hello, Honey, busy day?" I gestured to both piles as we carried them through into the shop.

"Yes quite, I've waited all week for these to arrive so I'm glad they have before the storm hit." His gentle voice floated through the air as he lifted the books onto a shelf behind his desk, taking the second pile from me and doing the same with them. I shivered at the mention of the storm, pulling a face at the comment.

"I'll be glad when it's over," I mumbled, grabbing my cup once more and taking another sip. The Angel smiled sympathetically and pressed a small kiss to my forehead to comfort me. The kiss made me melt slightly, calming my nerves even though the wind howled through the shop furiously.

"I'm sure it won't be too long Love," He assured me, picking up his own cup of tea from his desk.

"Where's Crowley anyway? Thought he would've been back by now."

"As did I but he rang saying to expect him back a little later, something about an errand." I nodded, humming mindlessly as I took a seat on the sofa, crossing my legs and staring at the floor. "Love? Are you alright?" My eyes flickered back up to Aziraphale's face though they felt blurred and heavy.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "I'm just a little out of it. Think it's the storm." I sighed, pursing my lips as my eyes fell back to the floor. Ever since I was a child storms had terrified me to the point of endless tears and jumpiness, unfortunately following me into adulthood. This wouldn't be the first time I'd been with Aziraphale during a storm but each time it was the same; I would zone out, becoming distant and distracted, before freaking out when the storm actually hit leaving them to look after me.

"Don't apologise, Love," He came to sit beside me, shoulder resting against mine gently. "I'll be here with you the whole time." I nodded, smiling gratefully at him, finishing my tea. My head rested against his bicep as we waited for the storm to set in, the feeling of guilt building in my stomach knowing Aziraphale would have to deal with the state I got into, especially without Crowley here to help. Minutes felt like hours as we waited and I sighed heavily, eyes peering up at the Angel.

"Azira, can you read to me please?" A pleasant smile crossed his face as he nodded softly. "Can we carry on with Alice in Wonderland?" I giggled at the grin on his face, melting into a forehead kiss before curling my knees up on the sofa with me.

It had only been minutes since he left to go and find the book, shuffling could be heard in another room when an almighty crash of thunder split through the room. A scream of terror ripped through the room as I jumped out of my skin, launching myself off the sofa and to the nearest safe space where I curled up, trembling with hands clenched over my ears and eyes wide with fright. I was so caught up in the noise of the storm and flickers of lightning that I hadn't noticed Aziraphale rush back into the room. A part of me wanted to crawl out of my space and let him take care of me but my body was frozen in place as my heart pounded. I stared as a frantic pair of feet searched the room in my usual hiding spots for a curled-up, frightened bundle but they soon came to a stop in the middle of the room when all my places had been searched.

"Y/N, I know you're scared," His voice sounded muffled as he called out into the empty room. "But I need you to show me where you are." I whimpered softly, I wanted to show him, I really did but my body was too stubborn and stiff to move, curling up tighter with each crash of thunder. By this point, tears had flowed over and flooded my cheeks leaving streaks down my face. A sob was bitten back as the walls practically vibrated with the force of the storm outside, my fists clenched around my ears in a vain attempt to keep out the noise, making the pair of feet turn towards my corner quickly. I watched with blurred vision as the socked feet shuffled over to me, crouching down to reveal a pair of concern-filled blue eyes. Though I could see his mouth moving, I couldn't hear his soothing words as he softened his voice for me, holding out a hand though it just made me flinch. The corner I had shoved myself into was under a desk in the corner, trapped in by the wall and the desk's built-in drawers so there was no room for him to slide in beside me and sit out the storm.

I couldn't tell how long it had been since the storm started, the thunder and lightning sending my senses off in all directions into disorientation but I knew that the Angel never left my sight, making sure I knew he was there if and when I needed him. He had given up trying to touch me, realising it made me flinch and shrink back more and settled for sitting in front of me with his hands in his lap, though he still spoke despite me not hearing him. I knew it calmed him to know where I was and that I was safe as well as he knew it calmed me to hear his voice and see him. A cold wind blew through the room for a moment, leaving Aziraphale no choice but to leave me, mouthing that he would be back quickly, disappearing into the front of the shop.

As soon as he left the room, the walls seemed to darken, casting shadows across the walls with each flash of lightning and tremble of thunder. My silent sobs soon escalated into louder ones as the darkness seemed to fold around me which caught the attention of Azira and the guest. My eyes widened a little more when Aziraphale's socked feet entered the room with a pair of black booted feet just behind him. The two knelt down and this time Crowley's snake eyes appeared as well as the Angel's. Their gazes softened as I fought for my breath from crying, trying to ignore the way my body shuddered with each sob. The demon held out a hand to me but just like with the angel, I flinched and he drew back quickly, looking concerned and slightly offended. It wasn't because I didn't want them near me, the noises and sights of the storm were already overloading my senses and I didn't think I could take much more stimulation. I bit my lip, trying to clear my vision as Crowley stood back up and knelt by a large bag on the sofa before I let my eyes flicker to the white-haired Angel.

I could see his lips forming words like 'Come on' And 'You're safe with us Love' and slowly but surely my body seemed to decide it wanted out of the corner and into the warmth of that safety. Inch by inch, with shuddering breaths and trembling hands I moved towards him until I was just out from under the desk. With one last burst of energy, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in his waistcoat and covering my ears once more, letting his own arms wrap around me. The hum of his speaking could be felt through his chest as the Angel and the Demon conversed between themselves. Soon after I was lifted and carried to the sofa where the Angel sat me on his lap, still curled up, and Crowley sat in front of me with his hands reaching to remove my hands from my ears. I let him rest his slender fingers over my own and gently pull my hands down, holding them in his own and hushing me softly when I jumped at the thunder.

"Hello Darling," He spoke, resting his forehead against mine "I ran an errand because I found something that could help with storms. Do you want to have a look?" I nodded slowly, squeezing his fingers as he let go of my hands and hauled the bag up onto his lap. I gazed up at Aziraphale who smiled encouragingly and nodded towards the bag, giving me permission to open it and take a look. Shaking hands didn't stop me from having a look and a fresh wave of tears came to my eyes at what was inside.

A charcoal grey weighted blanket was folded inside, brand new and looking incredibly soft. I had never thought about getting one, they weren't cheap things to buy and I wasn't sure if I would like it in case it overwhelmed me but the Demon had taken extra care to purchase one that he thought would be perfect and I would never want to upset him by turning it down. I watched in awe and appreciation as he pulled it from the bag and unfolded it, almost effortlessly though I knew it was heavy, I assumed it was a demon perk if anything.

"We wanted to see if you'd try this when it's stormy or you're having a rough day Love," Aziraphale muttered into my hair. "It might help you to settle and block other things out for a while." I nodded but I was worried this meant they wouldn't stay and help me in a storm but I shook the thought away.

"Would you like to try it?" I nodded eagerly, looking at the Angel to see if he wanted me to slide off his lap but he kept me clutched to his chest just like before. Relaxing back into him, I smiled softly as the Demon draped the blanket over me, making sure to keep the weight evened out.

Instantly, the blanket melded into the curves of my body and the Angel's, serving as a cocoon. The feelings of panic were still there but had dulled down as the weight kept me comfortable and grounded in Azira's arms, making me relax into him, laying my head against his shoulder with a small sigh of relief. Though the storm still raged on outside, the feeling of my gift really did drown out the sounds and sights as I hid my face in Aziraphale's neck with a small yawn.

"How does it feel Darling?" My eyes flickered to meet Crowley's and I gave him a drowsy grin. He took this as approval for the gift and chuckled before sliding off his shoes transforming into his snake form on the sofa, sliding up to us and pooling his body against my chest. The storm's noise still made me flinch but nowhere near as much as it did before the blanket. I couldn't help the immense feelings of gratitude that flooded my body as we sat out the storm.

[writeshite]

Out Of The Frying Pan, Into The Demon’s Arms

Summary:

He huffs, “I gave it away!” He points to the stumbling duo beyond Eden; Adam carries the sword, the lion he slew at his feet, “It gets cold at night, and there’re predators, and —and, and she’s with child. It’s not going to get any easier for them, and they can’t get back in. What could it hurt?” You just glance at the angel, surprised at the confession and the generosity; any other might have reconsidered, but Steve gave the sword away - it’s that moment you decide, this one, he’s the one.

Pairings:

Steve Harrington x Gender Neutral!Reader

Tags:

Inspired By Good Omens | Angel Steve Harrington | Demon Reader | Ineffable Husbands | Accidental Child Acquisition

Words: 931

Author's Note:

So, I actually had this on queue, but it released earlier than I wanted and I had to drag it back in to actually put the writing in.

Series Masterlist

“I suppose you’re pleased with yourself.”

“I didn’t know this would happen,” you argue, but Steve turns to you with something akin to disappointment and anger in his expression.

“You tempted them to go against the Almighty. What did you think would happen?” Steve seethes.

You roll your eyes, ready to glance away in case he draws his fiery toothpick of a sword, but he doesn’t, and when you glance around, it’s nowhere to be found. “Didn’t you used to have a sword?” you ask, and he almost shies away.

Disappointment and anger fade away as they’re replaced by wide eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. 

“No, you did! I remember,” you persist, “great big thing, flaming like mad. What happened to it?”

“I –I gave it away,” he admits, wings curling in shame.

“You what?”

He huffs, “I gave it away!” He points to the stumbling duo beyond Eden; Adam carries the sword, the lion he slew at his feet, “It gets cold at night, and there’re predators, and —and, and she’s with child. It’s not going to get any easier for them, and they can’t get back in. What could it hurt?” You just glance at the angel, surprised at the confession and the generosity; any other might have reconsidered, but Steve gave the sword away - it’s that moment you decide, this one, he’s the one.

The antichrist is a hot topic right now, and looking after him was not your desired task. “I understand you’re in need of a nanny,” you greet the Hendersons with those words. Their expressions were confused, as they hadn’t had the time to even post the job ad. They stepped aside as you strode forward, your umbrella hooked over your arm, and your head held high. The baby, Dustin Henderson, didn’t exactly look like the antichrist - and as you find out years later, has no stomach for such a task.

The child is soft, with the mind of a genius, “Now, now dear, don’t be shy; we all need a little mischief in our lives,” you encourage, and he runs forward, ready to rain chaos on his playmates. Steve was standing knee-deep in weeds behind you; he shoved his rake into your back and snickered when you groaned at the stains it left. “Must you act so impish?”

“Well, maybe you should become better at your job, angel.” You dust off the leaves and step back before he can dirty your clothing again. A cry sounds out; one of the children, El, stands over another child - one outside Dustin’s playmates - her fists clenched and bruised. The child she’d punched looked older, his nose was bleeding, and he looked on the verge of tears. Dustin and his playmates point at the injured child, laughing, and you beam, “See, a few more years, and he’ll be the one instigating these things.”

“Go to sleep and dream of pain. Doom and darkness. Blood, and brains. Sleep so sweet, my darling boy; you will rule when Earth’s destroyed.”

Dustin sat up as you put him down, “The gardener says I must be kind and nice to everyone,” he says, and you scoff, “And not destroy the Earth.” You scoff again.

“The gardener is an idiot and a fool,” you tell him, “Don’t listen to him; listen to me.” He nods and then smiles when you do the same - the unnatural point of your teeth always brings him joy. You leave him to his slumber and then make your way to the gardens; Steve’s miracle shines in the plants - his lack of gardening skills never ceases to amuse you. “Angel,” you call out.

He turns to you, “Yes?” 

“Oh, where’s your excitement? You’ve barely seen me all day.”

“I’ve had to see you for millennia; I’ve had my fill, thank you,” he snaps.

“Are you still mad about this morning?”

“The boy’s supposed to cherish life, pouring salt on a poor innocent slug —”

“There are thousands of them; I’m sure the Almighty won’t mind making another,” you interrupt. He throws his rake at you, and you step aside, “You could have hit me.”

“That was the point,” he deadpans. 

“Oh, don’t be so grouchy; he didn’t even do it.” You’d handed Dustin the salt, and he’d glance between it and the slug for a while before bawling his eyes out. “He threw the salt back in my face if it’s any consolation,” you grumble. 

“So, he’s perfectly normal,” he sighs in relief, “neither good nor evil.” He places a hand on his chest, whispering thanks to the Almighty.

You pull out a bottle and hold it high, “Seeing how well we’ve done our jobs; we should celebrate.” It’s Châteauneuf-du-Pape, from Steve’s bookshop; you’d nicked it when he’d been helping a customer out front. You waved away when he exclaimed and took a swig of the drink.

“Firstly, we’re on the job,” Steve begins, “secondly, you stole that from me, and third —”

“Don’t be like that, angel,” you put your arm around him, pushing the bottle towards him, “take a drink; we can sober up later.” He calls you a fiend, and you can’t help but laugh at the weak insult, but your laughter cuts off when he snatches the bottle from you, taking a swig himself. The apocalypse was an afterthought at the moment, with you and Steve in the gardens, a bottle, and nothing else - a good moment while it lasted.

End Note:

I have no idea why this came to be. Stay Hydrated.

[malereader-inserts]

Trial and Error

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Ineffable Husbands & Son!Reader Summary: It's all about trial and error, and a lot of error Word Count: 910 Request: @dexpairs-blog: Hey! I just read your ineffable husbands x son!reader fic! It's so good omg!!If you're okay with it could i request some headcanons/or a oneshot (your choice) with them teaching their son how to use his magic or how to fly since they're having a hard time learning A/n: I'm actually considering doing Chicago Med fanfics.

"He is a child!"

"He needs to learn at some point!"

"I'm literally right here."

Aziraphale and Crowley turn to look at you sitting on a chair, sure you looked like a teenager and if that is the form you decide to stay in, you were technically still a babe in the eyes of heaven and hell. You won't actually reach adulthood till a few hundred years old, so, you were the freest child on the whole planet.

"I want to learn," You say optimistically, "I think I'm ready."

"No, absolutely not," Aziraphale exclaim, coming to suffocate you into a hug, your face squished upon his chest as he holds you dear, "You're still a baby, and no baby needs to learn any flying or magic."

"Angel, love," Crowley drawls out, "Don't forget our baby is not normal-"

"Thanks."

"Watch it," Crowley scowls as you can't help but smirk as you wipe the sweat from your face, finally able to breathe from your father's grip, "He's a demon and an angel, so, we want to prove everyone wrong that he is neutral and better than everyone."

"Dad's right, father," You hummed, as Crowley smugly smiles at his husband, "But, father's also correct, what if I'm not ready."

"You literally said two seconds ago that you were ready."

"Now, now," Aziraphale hummed, "We can't force you to do something you're not ready. But, if you want to really start learning then," He sighs defeatedly, "I won't oppose you."

"I want to do it."

"Then it's decided."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale screamed, "Why did you push our child off a building?"

"He's durable."

"Not invincible!"

"Are you guys done arguing?" You asked, you were levitating in the air, looking at your parents, arms crossed over your chest.

There you were flying, sure, to the human eyes they can just see you as levitating, but your parents know better that your wings were the reason for you floating. You looked pretty unscathed as a little annoyed but Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief.

"See, angel, knew he could fly."

"That still doesn't warrant the fact that you pushed him off a building, you're lucky Crowley we're going this in the countryside with the only tall building. Imagine the mess we will have if anyone saw him like this!"

"I originally pushed him out of a window, but that didn't work."

"I almost broke my arm."

"(Y/n), I thought you wouldn't tell him that!"

You shrugged your shoulders, looking bemused as your fathers started to argue, you cannot help but smile at their stupidity before lowing yourself gently and hoping they sort themselves out.

"All you need to do is put your mind to it."

"As if I haven't heard that a million times already," You grumbled under your breath.

"What was that?" Aziraphale turns to look at you confused, almost intrigued with what you said.

You flush in embarrassment, "Nothing, father."

"Alright!" He claps his hands, rubbing them before placing them gently on his lap, "All you need is to focus on what you want to do, say, you were to turn the lights on. Then, you just need to think about lights being on and snap your fingers."

"Easier said than done," You huffed, as you looked at your father with a tired expression, "And this is super easy stuff, why can't I do it?"

"Hey," Your father coos softly, "You're still young, my boy, all we can do is try. Plus, your powers probably haven't come through yet, so there isn't a need to be sad about it."

"I guess..."

"Alright, why don't we try it again? And if not, why don't you get some rest."

You let out one last sigh as you turn to look at the lantern before you, you look at it in disgust as if you wanted to burst the lightbulb within it. You raised your dominant hand before snapping your fingers, what you were expecting was a defeated fizzle that the light attempted to turn on or nothing to happen, but what happened instead was the bulb smashing.

"Oh, dear!"

"Well, that worked," You say with little enthusiasm, as your father looks at you inquisitively, "I was getting annoyed and I couldn't get it out of my mind that I just wanted it to smash than actually turn it on."

"Well..." Aziraphale trailed off, "I guess it did work, well done my boy."

"Thanks, father!"

"You know, I heard him praying last night," Aziraphale hummed, stirring his tea as Crowley rolled his eyes, "I don't know who to."

"Well, you don't exactly pray to the devil," Crowley replied sarcastically as Aziraphale gives him a look, "I'm just saying, anyway, where is this going?"

"Maybe, we're pushing him too hard," Aziraphale expressed, sighing as he sat down next to his lover, "I heard him praying for his powers to be there, he doesn't want us to be disappointed in him."

"Maybe we are too hard on him."

"Yes, exactly, and he's still a babe, there are many years ahead to let him learn his powers, control them and use them. I don't think we need to rush him at all."

"Then, it's decided, we will talk to him about it."

Aziraphale let out a noise of satisfaction, "Well, this is a first for you, to talk things out."

Crowley simply gives him a smile, "You're lucky I love you and our son."

"Aren't we lucky?"

[postalenha]

lucky % jaehyun

pairing: idolhusband!jaehyun x reader genre: fluff fluff fluff word count: 0.8k words requested: yes synopsis: having a famous husband isn’t the easiest, but with jung jaehyun anything is easy because he makes things much bearable. 

it was a fine morning as you and jaehyun strolls around the mall, planning to buy some stuff you first went in to a supermarket.

looking for some food to buy, you stopped. looking at the top shelf, as the boxed white chocolate stares right back at you. you tried to tiptoe to reach the box when jaehyun puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"no, don't do that." he said as the tall man reached for the box effortlessly. "tell me what you want and i'll get it. you shouldn't do anything, just be here." he said as he starts to push the shopping cart.

after buying some snacks, you went out the supermarket with jaehyun holding the bags of food you bought.

after that, you decided to go to the department store. and once you and your husband walked inside the kid's department store, a lot of shadows follow as you go. having the jung jaehyun as your husband isn't as easy as you thought it would.

because when the two of you met, you just saw him as the man who will always get flustered whenever you confess your love to him. he was a lover boy who always got red ears each time you're around.

he was yoonoh and not jung jaehyun. you saw him differently than the way the media and the crowd saw him. he was the dream and you were just a lucky girl jung jaehyun had laud his eyes on.

nonetheless, he was the best. he was so good at handling relationships that you two decided to tie the knot two years ago, and now here you both are. shopping clothes and toys for your first baby.

jaehyun's happiness was ineffable when you told him that he was about to be a father, he almost broke a bone from jumping out of happiness.

when he heard that his first child will be a girl, he quickly got dressed to buy stuff for his baby as he wants to make her feel like a princess the day she breathes into this planet.

so here you are, shopping in a really fancy place. there wasn't really that much people inside the shopping center but it wasn't empty either.

you looked at the little blue dress hanged as you asked your husband, "are you sure we have to shop this early?"

he raised an eyebrow, "what do yoh mean i'm sure? y/n i have never been sure in my life until this." he paused, "well, i was also sure in our wedding. but i'm sure with this too." he added.

you chuckled a little while he just grabs all the cute clothing he sees that are hanged in the clothing rack, "jaehyun!" you stopped him and pulled some of the clothes out of the cart.

"that much of clothes is really unnecessary, the baby will just grow out of it." you told him.

he was about to argue, but he remembered that stress is bad for pregnant women so he just sighed, "okay, if you say so." he smiled and kissed you forehead.

you continued to look at stuff until the inevitable happened, "jaehyun?!" a girl freaked out as he spots the face of your husband.

"oh my god! nct jaehyun?" your husband just smiles at them as they come closer to the two of you. "can we take photos with you?"

looking at you, he asks for approval so you nodded at him. you just stood there hiding in the corner, hoping they wouldn't see you. until, "y/n? you're here too?" the girl beamed,

"yes, hello." you just awkwardly smiled and waved at them, "you're so pretty!" the other girl added.

"no wonder jaehyun fell in love!" the first girl squealed with her friend, "can we also take a photo with you?" you we're hesitant at first, but you still agreed to just so they would go.

after taking photos with you and jaehyun they didn't immediately go as they had another request, "can we touch your belly?" the second girl asked. her friend was whispering, trying to stop her.

"what? that baby might be the next super star! might as well grab my chance now, right?" she justified, "right y/n? so can i touch it? i will be gentle."

awkwardness turns into discomfort as they started crossing the line. the girl seemed eager so you were afraid of telling her no because she might cause a scene.

you were about to speak but then jaehyun started to talk, "we're really sorry, but we can't do that." he politely said, "if you can excuse us."

you both walked away leaving the two girls behind. you looked at him as he gently caressed your face, thinking how the hell did you pull yourself a jaehyun.

[starks-hero]

Happy Holidays Everyone!

Wintery/Christmas themed fics for Christmas 2021!

Baby, It's Cold Outside - Stucky x Reader - You spend a cold morning cuddled up with your boys.

Let it Snow - Sherlock x Reader - You and Sherlock enjoy the snowfall during a stroll through London.

Northern Lights - Loki x Reader - Loki recalls his favourite memories of the Midgardian winters he experienced as a child and decides to share them with you.

Bucky on Ice - Bucky x Reader - You and Bucky spend a Christmas date ice skating. Hilarity ensues.

Two Turtle Doves - Ineffable husbands x Reader - There is no greater comfort than spending a cosy, wintery evening in the embrace of your favourite angel and demon.

Under the Mistletoe - Stucky x Reader - Bucky catches you and Steve under the mistletoe.

Christmas Lights - Sherlock x Reader - Sherlock had never been one to celebrate the holidays. But that was before you stumbled into his life.

Christmas Baking - Stucky x Reader - You, Steve and Bucky try your hand at some festive baking.

Deck the Halls - Loki x Reader - You and Loki attempt to prepare your home for the holiday season.

Ugly Christmas Jumpers - Ineffable husbands x Reader - Sometimes love is wearing the ugly Christmas jumper your partner gifted you.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas - Sherlock x Reader - You coax Sherlock into decorating the flat for Christmas.

Home for Christmas - Bucky x Reader - Bucky's spent the past few weeks on a mission but he's determined to be home for the holidays.

Dinner with the Family - Sherlock x F!Reader - You accompany Sherlock to the Holmes family home for a holiday dinner.

[witches-and-cows]

Bullies

pairing(s): parent!ineffable husbands x teen!non-binary!reader, ineffable husbands

synopsis: [Name] is being harassed relentlessly, so much so that their parents have to step in

warnings: cursing, lgbtphobia (specifically transphobia and/or enbyphobia) 

a/n: i am on a roll i say 

__________________

“The fuck does non-binary even mean, huh? Shit’s stupid. one or the other, like my dad says.” 

You bit your lip, trying to focus on putting your things away so you could go home. The boys next to you seemed to notice your trembling as you put your school books in your backpack. 

“Aye, [Name], c’mere.”

You hit your head on the locker door, muttering a small ‘shit!’, before turning to the group. Maxwell put a hand on your shoulder. “[Name]’s a smart kid, I’m sure  [she/he] agrees!”

“It’s ‘they’, Maxwell.” 

His grip tightened as you tried to pull away. “No, you fucking loon. It’s [she/he]. Get your head out of the clouds.” You finally got out of his grip, pulling your backpack strap over your shoulder. “Fuck off, Orson. You and your stupid friends can eat glass.” 

Maxwell’s friends didn’t take kindly to the insult, as 2 of them went to pin you to the lockers behind you, one landing quite the wallop to your face. “Listen here you fucking--”

“Oy! Maxwell Orson, what’re you doing, young man?”

Your English teacher, Professor Wells, stood in the doorway, her hand on her hip. Maxwell snapped, and his goonish friends let you go. “Just horsin’ around, ma’am. Ain’t that right, Fell-Crowley?” 

You narrowed your eye at him, holding your face. “No, it’s bloody wrong. He had one of his friends hit me.”

Professor Wells’ face turned mean as she pointed toward the headmaster’s office. “Well, let’s go then, the lot of you.” 

You watched them walk off, sniffling and pulling a cloth out of your pocket. Professor Wells put a hand on your shoulder. “You want to visit the nurse’s station?”

“No, thank you; I’d just like to go home.” 

She nodded. “Well, if you take the day off, I’ll vouch for you. Just...stay safe, okay?”

You shrugged. “Sure, Professor Wells. See you.”

“See you,” She turned, and walked toward the headmaster’s office.

    xx

“You’re home a bit late, [Name]--oh! Goodness, what happened to you?” 

Your dad put down the book in his hands, rushing over to you. You waved him off, saying, “Nothing Pop. Just a gym accident.” He cupped your face in one hand, noting the beginnings of a bruise on your eye. You avoided his soft gaze, focusing instead on your other parent on the phone just beyond him.“I do hope whoever caused this is in trouble.”

“Definitely. Could you let me go? I’ve got homework.” He did so, gaze lingering on your frame as you walked away, head down.

“They’re lying, Angel.” Crowley said, gesturing to the phone in his hand. “Their school called; apparently another child had a friend punch them in the face.” Aziraphale put a hand on his chest, eyes wide. He quickly ushered out the small group of customers in the shop, flipping the sign in the window to closed. 

   xx

Crowley took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. He could barely contain his anger. Aziraphale had to talk him out of hurting the children involved.  “Why would anyone hit [Name]? I don’t understand. They’re harmless. For being the offspring of both angel and demon, they sure do carry a lot more angel.”

“Maybe these children just don’t like them.” Aziraphale offered, wringing his hands anxiously. “They’ve never complained about a bully problem before, my dear.”

“They’re 15, turning 16. Teens aren’t ones for talking to their parents.” 

The pair quieted down as the teen in question walked into the room, their eye a sickly shade of yellowish green and swelling. Your dad patted the seat next to him, saying, “C’mere, love. Let’s chat.”  

You sat next to him, bottom lip trembling as the pair looked at you with pity-filled gazes. “Is everything okay at school, [N/n]?” 

You were aware of your Dad’s hand rubbing circles into your back, Papa’s form moving to your other side, the scent of old car leather and warm vanilla and the hum of electricity in the bookshop. It was comforting. Safe. 

Home. 

You broke down, sobs shaking you to your core; tears flowing out of your eyes, snot coming out of your nose. 

Your dads help you through it, telling you to breathe, whispering soothing words as you go from big sobs to small hiccups. “Now, please, talk to us [Name].”

You did, telling them about the months and months of bullying you had to endure at the hands of these boys. Boys who would touch you inappropriately, misgender you, and spit out horrible, horrible names.

Boys who would go to the lengths of beating you up to get their bigoted, hateful rhetoric out. 

Aziraphale sighed sadly as you finished, and studied your black eye. “We’ll have this all sorted out soon enough. Do you want anything to eat?”

You shook your head. “All I want to do is sleep,” you whispered, voice hoarse. Crowley nodded. “Alright then, c’mon. I’ll walk you up.” Your wobbly smile was all it took for Aziraphale to announce he’d also come up. The three of you walked up to your bedroom, Crowley muttering “Still very messy in here.” You shrugged and went behind your folding screen to change into pajamas. 

Once you were situated for bed, Crowley and Aziraphale each kissed your forehead, said a small, “goodnight, darling.” and promised that you’d be able to skip school tomorrow if you pleased. 

Crowley miracled a glass of water on your nightstand and shut the light off. “See you in the morning, lovely.” 

You smiled, and nodded. 

As soon as Aziraphale shut the door, Crowley kissed him softly. “Angel, how are we going to deal with this?” Aziraphale pursed his lips in thought, shrugging his shoulders pensively. “I don’t know, my dear boy. But I do know that we can figure it out in the morning.” Crowley kissed his Angel again, nodding. “In the morning.”

   xx

The next morning, the three of you decided over a breakfast of crepes, fresh fruit juice, and [a favorite breakfast item], that your dads would head to the school and call an impromptu meeting with all the parents of the children involved, and the children, mediated by Professor Wells (who agreed to it over the phone.)

As you piled into the Bentley, your stomach started to twist and turn with anxiety. What if Maxwell got off? Or any of his friends who weren’t involved heard and tried to harass you for him? 

Fear and nerves settled like a boulder in your throat. Your Papa noticed and turned around to look at you. “You’re going to be okay, [Name] we’ll try and get them kicked so they can’t hurt you anymore. Also, set an example for anyone who’d like to follow in their footsteps. Do you want a piece of candy?” 

You gladly took the [favorite candy] and chewed slowly, less nervous about this meeting. 

      xx

“Mr. ......Fell, am I correct?” 

Aziraphale nodded, squeezing your hand under the table. Professor Wells smiled at him, saying, “Your [Name] here, they’re a good person. One of the best I’ve seen.” Aziraphale looked at you proudly. “Why thank you, Professor Wells.”

“Oh, call me Margot. And Mr. Crowley, such an eccentric figure, is hard to miss.”

“Likewise,” Crowley responded with a smirk, complimenting Wells on her lilac purple pantsuit. Professor Wells blushed, waving away the compliment. 

The lighthearted chatter stopped as the parents of the children walked in, nervous smiles on their faces. Professor Wells led them in, and then sat next to the headmaster. 

“As you know, you were all called here because one of our students, Mx. Fell-Crowley, filed a report with each of your children.”

“This report is a load of shit!” A man with muddy brown eyes and a 70s style mustache proclaimed. “My son Maxwell was probably just messing around. [Ms./Mr]. Fell-Crowley is probably blowing this out of proportion.”

“Mx. Fell-Crowley, Mr. Orson. Watch how you talk about my child.” Aziraphale said, teeth clenched.

Another parent, a dark-skinned woman with big hazel eyes and extremely curly hair, raised her nose. “I can see why the child is confused.” Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Mrs. Wilson is right. Look at you both!”

“Very much not traditional parents."

“Perhaps the child should be taken out of your custody.” 

Headmaster Lochland banged a fist on the table, silencing the indignant parents. “Number one; Don’t you ever use that type of language in here, Mr. Orson. This is school property and you will not disobey the rules. Number two,”

He pulled a conch shell out of a desk drawer. “We will pass this around the table and have a civilized discussion. Are we all clear?” 

Everyone nodded, and Crowley grabbed the conch. “I’ll start. I’m here because my child, [Name] came home to my husband and I with a bloody nose and the start of a black eye. They were attacked by the Orson boy’s friend, Luke Wilson, and I’d like to know why.” He went to give the conch to Luke, but quickly yanked it back. “And don’t ever assume my child isn’t in good custody. Because mine isn’t the one pushing other kids around because they’re different.”

 Finally, he looked at you, anger ebbing away. “D’you want to speak, Wiggler?” You felt your face grow hot, as some of the other kids in the room started snickering. Crowley quickly rounded on them, sneering. “Something funny to you lot?” 

The kids’ giggles subsided at his harsh stare. You noted the faint glow of red under his lenses, and put a hand on his arm. “Daddy,” you muttered softly, eyes pleading. 

Crowley sighed, passing the conch to Luke. Headmaster Lochland looked at the boy. “Why did you hit Mx. Fell-Crowley?” Luke looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck “They called us stupid.”

“Why?” Professor Wells pressed, ignoring the glare Mrs. Wilson gave her. 

Luke shrugged. “Cuz we spoke the truth.”

“Which is?”

“That ‘non-binary’ isn’t real. It’s made up.”

Professor Wells narrowed her eyes. “Well, technically, no gender is real.”

“Not true.” Maxwell started, but Wells shut him up with a glare. 

“All gender is a social construct, made up by humans, to cage us in, put us in boxes.” 

Mr. Orson scoffed. “I don’t wanna hear this hippy crap. Gender is what’s between your legs, Professor. Not in your head.”

“You’d be wrong.” Aziraphale muttered. 

Mr. Orson groaned. “God, what do we have to do to get out of here?”

“Well, your sons will be expelled.”

Mr. Orson scoffed. “Fine. School’s gone down tremendously.”

“And we want handwritten apologies.” Crowley stated, handing [Name] a piece of chewing gum. Lochland nodded. “It’s reasonable. We don’t tolerate bigotry.”

The parents all mumbled in agreement. “Alright then. Goodbye Headmaster Lochland.” 

They shuffled out, muttering angrily. Lochland looked at Crowley and Aziraphale. “Sorry, Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley. They will be the first and last of that kind of hate.” Crowley nodded as they said their goodbyes. 

    xx

“Alright,” Crowley said, turning down Queen’s ‘We Are The Champions’. “Celebratory dinner at the Ritz?” 

“Can we order dessert?”

Your dad smiled back at you. “You can order the world, Wiggler.”

You laughed, a feeling of ease settling over you. 

One worry off the list. 

_________________

Wowza! Lots of words in this one.

As stated previously, your feedback is sexy ;)

[ecrivant]

the station | annie leonhart

(annie leonhart x fem!reader)

that night, one marked by abject sin and rapture: annie’s single, inescapable memory.  she, forever haunted by this painfully raw thought of you.

c.w. – homophobic slurs

word count: 2.2k

a.n. – this is technically a reader insert but it’s honestly just an exploration of annie’s repression and sadness.  also, in general, i’m very wary of assigning gender to the reader, but the lgbt+ themes are important to this story, so annie’s love interest is a fem!reader.  i’m sorry if this excludes anyone, next piece will return to the usual gn!reader.  

very much an au + me experimenting with style.  

At the world’s marge lies a service station—carburant siphoned long ago, insides, bare.  Its skeletal façade abuts a backroad, a display of collapsing substructure succored by gusts of vagrants and drifters, cataracted from history’s view.  At one time, when you entered, the clerk would greet you from the left with a gaze that conveyed a hesitant familiarity—the type of trivial recognition that was unimportant in the moment but retrospectively haunting.  The lights within, garish halogen, were ceaseless, always alight, and only dared to die out once the ceiling caved, and the walls peeled, and the vinyl floor cratered like some artificial topography.  The edifice now no more than a nebulous memory only existing in the minds of those who ever once visited it.  

A memory nonetheless in the mind of the woman who fucks for the first time in a sedan parked behind the station, where the smell of sex and summer air and gasoline is seared into her brain as she breathes hard, lightheaded and high on ecstasy and fear. She feels her own death, a quiet specter which guides the touch of her lover.  Her burning skin; the eroticism of demise, destruction.  The nocturnal breeze gasps with her.

She offers to drive you home.  You—flushed and debauched, breasts exposed.  Eying her intensely.  You refuse.

“I can walk.”

She laughs.  Your name on her lips, a carnal, depraved prayer, “We don’t even know where we are.”

She is corrected. Curt.

“You don’t.”

She is gored, laid open and vulnerable and bare for this stranger who parts without another word. She watches you go, ambling towards the unlit dirt road, swallowed by a beastly darkness.  The vehicle, suffused by an amorous smog, windows opaque.  Her organs all but spill onto the floor, mixing with dust and dog hair and garbage and an old takeaway cup that was always there no matter how many times she threw it away.  

She slinks into the station and asks for a pack of cigarettes.  She pays in coins, a button among them, but the cashier never notices.

At home.

“Mama’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re gonna get an earful tomorrow.”

She’s already halfway up the stairs.  They moan beneath her.  

“She thinks you’ve been spending too much time with that Eren boy.  Is that where you was tonight?”

The stairs sound like you. Everything sounds like you—the gasp of a closing door, the sordid exhale of a creaking bedframe.  The sweat on her face: a lover’s curious tongue.

—

“Pull off here, ya’re low on gas.”

Prick prick pricks of fear smart on her skin.  Mama knows. The station, the unholy consecration. Mama knows.  This car, this place.  Mama knows.  Her brother in the back, resting on the shadow of his sister’s bare figure.  The pop of the fuel door says dyke.  The crack of the gas nozzle trigger says fag. The unseen eyes that bore through her say queer.  She enters the station to pay.  The clerk, a gaze of recognition—the only one who knows of her transgressions.  

—

She is married. Cheers to the happy couple.  She cries on her wedding night, tears staining bedsheets—her own virginal blood.  He touches her, stagnant, pale skin collied by bereft contact.  She only comes when she thinks of the station.

—

She could tell.  She could tell him and free herself, and then the kid’ll wonder why Mommy’s never around and Daddy’s a druggie and a drunk and never leaves the house anymore and the kid’ll make his way through the social services system until he’s beaten and cracked and broken like Mama’s old doll collection smashed against the wall and he puts a bullet in his head before he turns eighteen.  No, she could never tell.

—

Thanksgiving.  She stares at her sister-in-law—a city girl, with heavy lids and blush-dusted cheeks and a pronounced cupid’s bow.  The eyes of a hunter, the lascivious gaze of a she-wolf.  Her husband comments on how well they seem to get along.  

—

A loneliness begotten from her own bones, born from emptiness and the inimitable way she and death caressed all those years ago.  She only has a name to utter, breathless, when thoughts of you tenant her mind.  The first and the only fuck was truly a stranger, all but nameless in memory.  

—

Her mother’s funeral. An apathetic and unfamiliar affair. People she doesn’t know.  Her brother, his wife, their child.  Her husband, her child, her.  She could not be more distant.

Her childhood home smells sweetly of tobacco and cardamom.  

Indifference during the wake mistaken by the others for numbness.  She feels no need to mourn—her mother lived and died uneventfully, and that was it.  

“Mommy, are Grandma’s dolls going away?”

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

“Do you think I can keep one?”

The boy has his eyes fixed on one in particular, his implicit selection.  The one that has your eyes.  The one whose gaze makes her squirm.  Mama knows.

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

—

She sneaks away from the house with a pack of her mother’s cigarettes, the box crumpled and stained at the edges and the tubes inside wrinkled and mildewed, emitting a stench that filled her with inexplicable nostalgia.  It brings to mind her unshakable compulsion to eat cigarettes, to feel the flakes of tobacco coat the inside of her mouth like the ground dregs in a cup of cheap coffee.  She lights one instead, pushing the thought aside—if she was to ever eat one, she fears she would not be able to stop.  The low hiss of her inhalations on the ember briefly joins the sonic ambience.  She sits in her car and smokes and occasionally flicks ash outside of her window with shaking hands.  Rancid and familiar aftertaste.  Thick dust clouds kicked up by her car tires coalesce with her hazy exhalations as she drives nowhere.  Not nowhere. She needs gas.

—

The station still stands as it had before, insusceptible to time.  Always seemingly aged.  Covered in an ever-present grime.  She gets out and leans against her car and drags on her cigarette, the virulent inhalations scratching her lungs.  The road on which you disappeared all those years ago looked profoundly unremarkable during the day—just a long, dirt road in a town wholly comprised of long, dirt roads. The heat shimmers above the ground, and the afternoon sun drapes itself across her skin, and the hot breeze drags its fingertips through her hair like a lover you’d meet behind a bar—the same who would abandon that perpetually lit cigarette between her lips in exchange for her mouth on yours.

Her last drag—she drops the butt and crushes it underfoot.  

She sits in her car and smokes the rest of the pack—in her eyes, the final remnants of her mother.

She waits in the parking lot.  As if her presence alone would invoke some bygone wraith.  

Her hand reaches under her dress, between her legs, and she is touching herself to the pervasive miasma of summer breeze and carburant, and the darkness of closed eyes almost feels like the night, and her frantic digital movements are arrant pleasure until they’re not; she stops and is suddenly crying, and her thoughts are occluded by her mother’s pale, dead face, and she realizes that Mama’s death, mundane as it was, represents the furthest she’s been from that singular night years ago which was so verily marked by sin and rapture; the one that has haunted her and will continue to haunt her until she herself dies an uneventful death after an uneventful life, and her child thinks of her passing as she does her own mother’s: a nonevent among nonevents.  

She is met with understanding eyes as she returns to the wake crying.  

—

She moves to the city with husband and child.  Suburbia forgone.  The apartment is small and cramped and reminiscent of her sister-in-law’s.  The adjacent view from the living-room window is an identical high-rise—ten stories of the same brick and dirty-white AC units. She is filled with an ineffable sadness as she stares at the spare greenery in streets below, confined to plots of dry soil surrounded by cracked and potholed pavement.

Her sleeplessness often leads her to the living room long after the apartment falls to silence.  One night, she watches, captivated, as a couple in the adjacent apartment fucks on a couch, curtains wide open and shame forgotten.  The man, hovering above a body obstructed, is suddenly flipped on his back and mounted by his lover, and she swears this woman, breasts bobbing, and face marked by a concentrated intensity and unusually devoid of pleasure, looks like you.  

—

Two years in the city bypass her as if she were already dead.  The tenant who resembled you moved out the year prior.  

—

She sits in a booth sequestered in the corner of a dark and begrimed barroom.  Alone for the night.  Her husband no longer questions her bouts of silence and absences from the house and disdain for intimacy; her child, accustomed to fissure.  

She ignites a cigarette, her lukewarm liquor no longer of interest, and no one stops her.  She is indifferent to the other patrons, who were, at this point in the night, nothing more than hazy and incorporeal forms populating the shadows.

The chime of the door—jarring and tangible—cuts through the muted atmosphere and demands the attention of those there to give it.  Another specter drifts to the bar.  A woman shouldering something—a fact elucidated by a hunched posture and a quiet request for three fingers of scotch.  

And then the woman turns, and Annie sees her face.  

And suddenly she is collapsed on the scum-covered tile of the bar’s bathroom floor, hurling upchuck into the toilet.  That woman had your face—she is not you, at least not anymore, as Annie is no longer the girl who fucked and died in that gas station parking lot years ago.  But that woman had your face.  And she looked at Annie with your eyes, melancholic eyes which held no recognition for her, and turned away in the same movement.  Less than a look—a glance.  But that woman had your face.  And Annie had not seen it again before she hied to the bathroom to regurgitate four drinks and years of accrued and bilious agony.  

The bathroom door swings open.  Groaning hinges.  She knows it’s that woman who has callously co-opted your likeness.

She enters the stall next to her and pisses and flushes the toilet whose water drains slowly and weakly, and the sounds of the sink are harsh and cacophonous against the tile walls. Steps towards the exit suddenly pause. A knock on the stall door.  Your voice asks if she is alright—a voice unheard for decades, last encountered in a low, debauched whisper against her skin.

She heaves, again, but nothing is left to expel; she coughs and spits and does not answer.

“Can I at least help you get home?”

The question looms above her, looped and tied like a noose.  

“I can walk.”

A laugh.  Dry, unfamiliar, never heard.  It’s harsh and barking; a warning.  

She is corrected, curt: “You can barely stand.”

She had long been unacquainted with fear, now more often than not consumed by a vacant numbness, and she admittedly did not miss it.  It was ugly and pervasive and bore deep within her with debilitating potency.  She could do nothing but sit on the disgusting tile floor with body supported on yellowed porcelain and wait.  

She imagines she allows herself to believe this woman is you—you, as you were, unchanged—and opens the door. And you, being unchanged, ask if she would like to come home with you.  And she, apparently the same as well, says yes.  And back at your apartment, cluttered and cramped yet simultaneously vacant, you spare no time backing her into the bedroom, lips tethered to hers in lurid predation.  Touches that are lustful and intimate and familiar only to her.  She cannot bring herself to care that you do not remember her—your breath on her neck and your incursive touch efface all thoughts, good or bad.  She wants you on top of her, around her, within her, and you oblige like some prurient altruist.  Her coming is purgative and cathartic, and the pleasure of that night at the station feels archaic and antiquated in the face of this wholly new gratification, heighted by an immense and prolonged yearning.  And this time, after you are both finished, you do not part and neither does she, and she embraces you in a way that feels intrinsic, and you ask her to stay the night. And she does not think of her husband and child as she says yes.  And she does not think of her husband and child as she agrees to spend the next day with you, as she dances with you in your living room, finally and only feeling held and loved.  Finally, finally, finally.  

—

But Annie says nothing. And the woman—not you, but an apparition—softly and finally knocks on the door with the side of her fist, unfazed, and walks out of the bathroom.  And even now, as she slumps further and shuts her eyes and clutches her head, Annie can only think of that fucking gas station.  

—

hi there!  thank you so much for reading; i hope you enjoyed this piece.  it’s a little different than my other stuff, not drastically so, but still different.  i think i like it, though.

thank you to the anon who suggested I write something for annie, i really appreciate the request.  i have another request in the pipeline for reiner, so expect a piece for him soon. 

as always, feedback and criticism are very much appreciated!  feel free to drop in and request something if you want.

taglist: @flam3bird

[cloversdreams]

ɱყ ƒαɳ∂σɱร αɳ∂ รɦเρร

I hail from the era when we were warned over and over again not to give out personal information online. That is why you’ll never see my age in my profile.

⋘ My Ao3 account is over 90% locked so you need to be logged in to see almost all the fics ⋙

♧ 

♧ 

Current series I’m willing to write for: 

ʙᴜɴɢᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴀʏ ᴅᴏɢꜱ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ/ɢʀᴀɴᴅ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛʀɪɢᴜɴ ꜱᴛᴀᴍᴘᴇᴅᴇ ᴛᴇɴꜱᴜʀᴀ 🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇭​​🇱​​🇪​

* Ships for these and other fandoms I enjoy below cut

Frequently used tags to consider perusing:

Prompts (writing and a scattered few art prompts)

Clovers Fate (my FGO rambles)

Cloverstwst (my TWST rambles)

Cloverscrk (my Cookie Run Kingdom rambles)

CloversFigs (pics of my figure collection)

My fics (my... fics)

Come on by and:

✓ Talk to me about these things/Stop by simply to say you love them too

✓  Send me thoughts/headcanons about them

✓  Send me prompts for them *(there is no guarantee that I’ll write a prompt, but I def enjoy reading them!)

No-nos:

✕ Top///Bottom Discourse (I probably see them as verse so theres your answer, dont ask)

✕  A///B///O

✕ R///Ps

✕ Self..insert///X..reader

✕ a ngst without a happy ending

♧

A Destructive God Sits Next To Me

Seri x Hanadori

Shikimi x Hanadori

All the boys x moving in together for more antics

♧ 

Bang Brave Bang Bravern

sum/isa

♧ 

Black Clover 

ZoraFin 

YunoAsuLeo 

LuGna

Mars x Fana

Vanessa x Finral

Yami x Charlotte

Noelle x Kahono

William x Patri (i begrudgingly add them to the list)

All my favs x happiness

♧

Buddy Daddies

Kazuki x Rei

♧ 

Bungo Stray Dogs *

RanPoe

SiGol

TaniHara

Lovecraft & Chuuya

Ran/Poe/Chu

Chuuya x Michizo x Junichiro x Mark

Chuu/Aku/Atsu

Aku/Atsu

Oda x A Long And Happy Life

♧ 

Castlevania

Trephacard

Alucard x Happiness

♧

Chainsaw Man *

Aki/Angel

Denji x A Kiss That Isn’t Terrible

♧

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Nabrina

Harvey x Roz

Ambrose x happiness 

♧

Dr. Stone 

Ryu/Kasa

Xeno/Stan

Hyo/Yo

Tsuka/Sui/Hyo

Ryusui x Having the World

♧  

Dorohedoro

Shin/Noi

Dokuga x Happiness

ni/kaiman

Risu/Kawa

Thirteen x Happiness

♧  

Fairy Tail

Gaj/evy

Fr/axus

Gr/uvia

Jellal and Erza

♧

Fate/Grand Order *

OzyNefe

Meroma

Kado/Ana

Gil/Kidu

Waver x Iskandar

Charlemagne x Moriarty (Ruler)

Arthur x head pats/hugs/good dreams

Doman x continuing being a chaotic thot

Tristan x Bedi

Astolfo x almost any guy

♧

Genshin Impact

Wriothesley x Neuvillette

Ayato x Thoma

Xingqiu x Chongyun

Diluc x (Zhongli, Childe, Thoma, Baizhu, Wriothesley)

Zhongli x (Baizhu, Childe)

Kazuha x Gorou

Xiao x (Venti, Kazuha)

Alhaitham x (Kaveh, Cyno)

Candace x Dehya

Beidou x Ningguang

Wrothesley x Childe

♧

Given *

Aki/Haru

Shizu/Ragi

Mafu/Yama

Take-chan x Yayoi

♧

Good Omens 

Ineffable Husbands

♧

Great Pretender *

Edaurent

♧

Hazbin Hotel

Radio/Dust

Angie x Everyone

Alastor x Most

Charlie x Vaggie

♧

Hirano and Kagiura/Sasaki and Miyano 

Kagi/Hira

Tashi/Bashi

Sasa/Myaa

TashiBashiHama (sounds like a vacation spot right?? RIDICULOUS)

♧ 

Im: Great Priest Imhotep

Djoser x Imhotep

Harugo x Inaba

Apophis x Thoth

Hesyre x Khonsu

Everyone x the happiness they deserve

♧

Jujutsu Kaisen 

Ita/Jun

Inu/Fushi

Nobara x Maki

♧

Kingdom Hearts 

AkuSai

♧

Mashle: Magic and Muscles *

Rayne/Max

Lance/Dot

Abel/Abyss

Rayne and the best life ever with all the bunnies

♧ 

Miraculous Ladybug

Luk/Adri/Nette

Nathaniel x Marc 

Juleka x Rose

Luka x The Happiness He Deserves

♧

Mob Psycho 100

TeruMob

ShouRitsu

♧

Moriarty the Patriot 

Will/Seb 

Louis x Fred

Albert x Mycroft

John x Sherlock

♧

My Hero Academia 

Todo/Baku/Deku

Kiri/Kami

Dabi/Hawks

Dave/Might

Shin/Todo/Baku/Deku

Shin/Kiri/Kami

Todo/Shin

Baku/Shin

Kuro/Yami

Shou/Toko

Sero/Mina

Sero/Mina/Yama

Fuyumi x Mirko

Fuyumi x Mirko x Ryukyu

TwI/nner (Twice x Spinner)

Tosh/Inko

Eraser/Joke

Tsu/Chako

Oji/Toru

Ii/Chako

Shou/Toko/Kuro

Eraser/Cloud

Chrono/Haul

♧ 

Nezha 

Oubing

♧

Noblesse 

TaoKeo21

Raizel x Frankenstein

Rael x Seira

The Kids x Happinesss

Raizel x Muzaka

Frankenstein x Ragar

Raizel x Frankenstein x Muzaka

Raizel x Frankenstein x Muzaka x Ragar 

♧

NU: Carnival

Eiden x Quincy

Eiden x Rei

Eiden x Yakumo

Eiden x Blade

Eiden x Garu/Karu

Eiden x Dante

♧

Princess Tutu

Fakiru

♧

Romantic Killer

Anzu x Tsukasa

Anzu x Tsukasa x Junta

♧

Sk8 the Infinity 

Cherry/Joe

Reki x Langa

♧

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime *

Diablo x Rimuru

Veldora x Rimuru

Guy x Rimuru

Guy x Diablo

Guy x Diablo x Rimuru

Albis x Suphia

Benimaru x Albis

Youm x  Mjurran x Grucius

♧

The Dragon Prince

Ru/thari

Jan/aya

Ray/llum

So6/rvus

Aaravos x being a chaotic thot

♧

The Seven Deadly Sins

Ban x Elaine

King x Diane

Escanor x Merlin

♧

Therapy Game/Secret XXX

Itsuki/Shohei

Shizuma/Minato

♧

Trigun Stampede *

Vash/Wood

Million/Summers

♧

Twisted Wonderland 

Idia x Cater

Malleus x Idia

Malleus x Cater

Jack x Vil

Malleus x Cater x Idia

Chenya x Silver

Chenya x Idia

Lilia x adopting even more kids

Chenya x being summonable

♧ 

Wuthering Waves (male rover)

Jiyan x Rover

Scar x Rover

Jiyan x Mortefi

Xiangli Yao x Rover

Rover x Mortefi

Xiangli Yao x Mortefi

Jiyan x Rover x Mortefi (x anyone else thats hot)

Yhan x Rover

Rover x Changli

 ♧ 

  Yu Yu Hakusho 

KuraHi

♧

Other (series I enjoy without necessarily shipping)

D. Gray Man

Doctor Who

Dragon Ball Z

Invader Zim

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Lucifer

One Day at a Time

Sengoku Basara

Star Trek TNG

Stargate SG1

Stranger Things

The Mandalorian

The Legend of Hei

Dark Gathering

Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective 

♧ 

Other II (I dont go here but I am still invested in these pairings)

Sett/Phel

Ez/Kayn

K/Yone

Kuro/Ken

♧ 

Dead to Me (series which writers fucked everything up and I’ll never consume again)

The Magicians

Veronica Mars

The Umbrella Academy

**Notes: 

if a polyship is listed I also ship all the individual ships that make it up ♡

italics are things I ship but haven’t/won’t write for (depends case by case)

when in doubt about a thing just send an ask. i dont bite. probably.

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

would you please write an ineffable husbands fic where they cook together (at Azeriphale's request of course)? It can regard or disregard season 2. Just please make it fluffy and cute

3 O'clock Breakfast

Ineffable Husbands x daughter-son!reader

Summary: Y/n stayed up late to finish the novel they were reading, and it ended sadder than they expected. Seeking out comfort in their Mother-Father, Aziraphale - a fellow book enthusiast, they didn't except him to insist upon a family Smile, Love breakfast at 3am. Their other parent isn't entirely pleased.

Content: hurt/comfort, reader is written as a teenager (can be older or younger but a teen nonetheless), tears over fiction are valid tears, Aziraphale is a sweetheart, Crowley is sour about having to get out of bed, the reader is Crowley and Aziraphale's biological child - don't ask me how that works, just sweet things with an ethereal family,

Rating: 14+ || 1.5k+ words

Their eyes burned with exhaustion and the salt of tears. Five minutes ago, they could barely stay awake - but it was only a couple more pages and they couldn't stop there, not with what was happening in the story. Now the book sat, upside down and offending, on the nightstand by their bed. The tears wouldn't stop, it was a numb sort of cry. They should have seen this coming. Everything was leading up to it they had just hoped...but no. They wanted their parents - someone they could rant to who would share in their grieving. They wanted Aziraphale. He was the one who recommended the stupid book to begin with. But they weren't mad, not really, just grieving and tired.

Sliding out of bed, they made the trek from their room to their parents' down the hall. They paused at the door to wipe their eyes and clear their airway with a sniffle, then gently pushed it open. "Are you guys awake?" They asked, feeling fresh tears block up in their throat at being so close to their parents. Why did it have to work that way? One second you think you've got yourself under control and then your parent speaks or shows up and suddenly you're crying again. The bedside lamp switched on and Aziraphale sat up, Crowley grumbling unintelligibly and rubbing at his slitted yellow eyes. "Darling? Is everything alright?"

They made their way to his side of the bed and Aziraphale opened his arms to welcome them into his freely offered comfort. Their tears were now back in full, and they wrapped themself around the softness of their Mother-Father with the need to be held. Crowley sat up and exchanged a look with his husband. "Love, are you alright?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep. "I-I fin-finished it." They sobbed into the collar of Aziraphale's shirt, and he made a sound of understanding, nodding. "The novel I lent you? Did you enjoy it? I do believe the ending was quite sad, I was rather dewy eyed over it as well."

"Wait, all this is about a book?" Aziraphale shot Crowley a look of warning. "I do believe it is. A rather emotional story, wasn't it love?" Their child mumbled something in to Aziraphale's shirt that might have been 'yes' or perhaps 'fuck you'. Crowley couldn't believe he'd been pulled out of what might have been a dream, or perhaps a memory, either way it involved Freddie Mercury, just for this. Why would anyone ever want to read if this was the result? "Do you want to sleep with us tonight, darling?" Crowley asked, flopping back down with his head on his pillow. He looked at the clock, the red lettering projected an offensive 3:07AM.

Y/n sat up and wiped their eyes, then laid their head back down on Aziraphale's shoulder, looking out. He rubbed their back soothingly, always so empathetic. "I don't think I can sleep right now." Aziraphale hummed, an upturned chipper to roll the sound from his throat. "Well," he said, a breathless excitement and loving smile that cast one identically on to the tear puffed face of his child. His little world right there, teary eyed and oh-so lovable, in his warm and inviting lap. "Why don't we go downstairs, and I make us a pot of tea? Perhaps some breakfast?" Crowley groaned and threw his arms up over his face in exhausted exasperation - both husband and his child ignored him. "Can we make pancakes? With toppings?"

Aziraphale smiled. "Why, of course! Anything you'd like! And we can all make it together!" Crowley sat up, glaring. "Woah, hold on. All of us? I never said anything about breakfast, I don't even like breakfast." Aziraphale guided y/n to stand up and then he followed suit, standing at the base of his side of the bed and glaring back at his husband while their child waited in the doorway, amused. "Well, Crowley, not everything is about you. Our child wants pancakes, now get up and come help us make them." Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a long look, each silently daring the other to act against them. Finally, Aziraphale grabbed the bottom of the duvet and yanked it off the bed, sending pillows and sheets flying to the floor. Crowley yelled out in protest; y/n stood laughing in the doorway. He glared at them; they glared back playfully.

Aziraphale wacked Crowley gently on the foot. "Up." He demanded with an accusatory pointing of fingers. Crowley groaned in the most dramatic fashion and threw his legs over the side of the bed to stand up, cursing Aziraphale under his breath all the while. His husband and child didn't wait for him as they headed down the stairs to the kitchen. "So, what will it be? Chai? Chamomile? Earl Grey?" Y/n took a seat at the bar while Aziraphale hunted for the kettle. "Which ones do we still have?"

"Umm, let's see," Aziraphale set the kettle down on stove and searched the pantry for tea bags. "I can only find Chamomile. Will that be alright, my love? Would you prefer I made us some hot cocoa?" He waved the box of chocolate powder in the air, and y/n found themself fantasizing about tiny marshmallows. "Let's do hot cocoa." Aziraphale beamed and practically skipped his way back to the kettle. "I was hoping you'd pick that one." It was then that Crowley decided to make an appearance, now fully dressed. "Dad," they said, and he stopped in the middle of the walkway, looking at them with a raised brow. "We are planning to go to bed after this, you do know that, right?"

Crowley walked over to his kid, swaying in the way that Aziraphale and y/n often teased him for, and placed a kiss to the top of their head. "You might be, but I'm not." They looked at him with furrowed brows and confusion so obvious he could practically hear their question in his head. It was like looking into a mirror sometimes, looking at his kid - only they were every bit the angel their Mother-Father was. It was a shame, a damn shame. "Awe, it's too late for that now, sugar. I'm already awake." The clinking of mugs brought their attention back to Aziraphale, and Crowley took the seat next to y/n. "Ah, here we are!" the angel announced, setting two steaming mugs down in front of his little family. Y/n beamed at the little marshmallows sloshing against the walls of the cup, yellow eyes gleaming with delight.

Aziraphale retrieved his mug and lifted it for a toast, Crowley and y/n followed suit. "To the fascination that is human literature." Y/n echoed his toast and Crowley mumbled something about ridiculousness, they all took a sip of their cocoa, hissing as it burnt each of their tongues. "Perhaps we should have waited." Aziraphale commented, making a face at y/n who laughed and agreed. "Perhaps we should have all stayed in bed while we still had the chance."

"Yes, maybe we should have left you there," y/n teased, exchanging slitted glares with their parent. "But then you would have missed the pancakes." Crowley leaned back in his seat and rolled his eyes. "I don't even like pancakes." Aziraphale had started grabbing ingredients out of the pantry, y/n and Crowley got up to help. "How could you possibly know that? You've never even tried them." While Crowley grumbled pointless excuses, Aziraphale handed him the flour and the salt. Y/n grabbed the wet ingredients from the fridge. "Yes, yes, you don't care for human food," Aziraphale waved him off, setting an armful of ingredients on to the cabinet and nearly knocking over his hot cocoa. As soon as his arms were free, he picked up the mug and took a sip, y/n following suit. "However, these pancakes are special pancakes."

"Oh, really?" Aziraphale hummed, exchanging glances with his kid. He sent them a playful wink. "Yes, very special. Because we'll be making them as a family, Crowley. Isn't that nice?" The expectant look on his child's and husband's faces were one in the same. Crowley hated the way he never stood a chance against them. "Ugh, fine," He fought back a smile at the hugs that engulfed him immediately after he caved. "But only if the two of you will stop pestering me." Y/n and Aziraphale exchanged a grin and a nod, "Deal." they said in unison. Crowley leaned against the counter as y/n got out mixing bowls and Aziraphale began measuring ingredients, and he sipped his cocoa. It's going to be a long night, he thought and then, despite himself, he smiled. If this is what love does to a demon, it was pathetic. Yet he couldn't help but to allow it to warm him from the inside out. He was going soft.

"Hey, dad?" y/n asked, looking up at him bashfully. "I can't reach the mixer." Crowley sighed, putting emphasis in to an exasperation he didn't feel, and set down his mug. "I got it." Aziraphale looked up from his carton of eggs and smiled at the pair, his little family. Crowley pretended not to notice, and he purposefully ignored the smiles his loved ones sent each other - not so sneakily - behind his back. It would be a long night, indeed, having to keep up pretending he wasn't enjoying it. He wasn't, not really. Well...perhaps just a little.

|| masterlist ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Ineffable Husbands/Good Omens copyrighted by Neil Gaiman©

[book-place]

Toddlers and Toys

Warnings: mentions of child abandonment, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Crowley x daughter reader, Aziraphale x daughter reader

*not my gif*

Summary: It’s Christmas day, but you appear to be the only one in your household to care

A/N: Welcome to the bonus day of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Daddy! Papa!” You cheered, little feet pattering loudly against the carpeted floor, “Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Crowley groaned, turning his face to bury it further in his pillow, “Shut her up, Angel.”

“You’re the one who wanted her,” His husband mumbled back, eyes not even opening as he responded, already drifting back off into a slumber.

“Well, I didn’t know that she planned on getting up at the crackass of dawn everyday.” He grumbled back.

You giggled at your fathers antics, hopping up onto their bed and jumping in between them, eyes dazzling with excitement as you shook the bed to try and stir them from their sleepy states.

“It’s Christmas!” You repeated.

“I heard you the first time.” Crowley grumbled, “Now go back to bed.”

“I don’t wanna-“ You were cut off by Aziraphale pulling you down gently and wrapping his arms around you, snuggling you to his chest in hopes of all three of you being able to go back to sleep.

Crowley and Aziraphale had found you, abandoned by the side of the road, about two years ago, when you were merely three years old.

Shockingly, Crowley had somehow been the one to find it in his heart to want to take you in right away, though it wasn’t as if it took much to convince his husband to feel the same.

“Papa!” You complained, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, “Help me, daddy!” You cried desperately, flailing your arms around to try and grab ahold of your other father.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to raise your parents from bed, you fell backwards with a huff, ignoring your papas content hum when you did so.

Finally, when their breathing had once again evened out, you were able to slide out of Aziraphales grasp and softly move off the bed before smirking in a way that was all too much like Crowley’s, and flipping on the bright lights.

Crowley automatically hissed dramatically as if the artificial light was blinding him as he brought the covers over his face. Aziraphale, on the other hand, slowly sat up and looked around in confusion.

You giggled at the two of them before spreading your arms and jumping up and down, “Come on, daddy! Come on, papa! It’s Christmas!”

Your light haired father released a sigh through his nose before throwing back the covers and getting out of bed when he realized that there was no arguing with you today.

“You too, daddy!” You called, walking over and taking his arm while trying to drag him out of the sheets.

“No,” He complained as he fell limply to the floor, “It’s too early, child.”

Aziraphale smiled softly at the two of you, walking over and scooping you up into his arms, “Come now, Crowley, it is Christmas after all.”

“Yes, yes,” He grumbled, slowly dragging himself off the rug, “I heard her the last fifty times.”

You giggled again, leaning over and planting a sloppy kiss on your fathers cheek.

He sighed, reaching out and ruffling your hair. He never could stay mad at you.

You tugged at Aziraphale’s shirt and whined a little, “Come on, papa, I wanna go downstairs.”

“Alright, alright, calm down, young one.” He chuckled slightly to himself and sent an amused glance towards Crowley, who just crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath a little.

Aziraphale used his free hand to grasp onto Crowley’s, and the three of you made your way downstairs.

As soon as you reached the foot of the steps, you audibly gasped as your eyes widened and little and your head snapped back and forth in wonder.

The entire first floor had been decorated to absolute perfection thanks your dads- and a little bit of miracles- the night before so that it would be ready by the time you woke up.

Christmas lights hung from the ceiling, trees were in every corner with ornaments and shining, bright stars proudly displayed on the top.

An excited squeal escaped your lips as you arrived in the living room, where the biggest tree in the house stood, a bit poorer decorated than the others because the husbands had let you do it a couple days prior.

And underneath, were mounds upon mounds of presents.

You bit your lip- though it did nothing to stop your ever growing smile- and bounced up and down slightly in anticipation.

“Well, Crowley,” Aziraphale said in mock wonderment, “Whatever shall we do with all these presents?”

Said man smirked a little as they both looked down at you, “Why, I don’t know, Aziraphale.” He teased, “If only we had someone to open all of them for us.”

You looked just about ready to burst by then.

“Oh my.” Aziraphel fake gasped as he looked down at you, “Do you think our daughter would possibly be interested in opening all of these gifts?”

You nodded your head vigorously in return.

“Hmm,” Your other father put a hand on his chin as if he were contemplating, “You know what, all right, you can open them, little one.”

You squealed again and pumped a fist in the air, hugging their legs tightly before diving into the wrapping paper and boxes.

On it went, with Crowley and Aziraphel lounged comfortably against a couch, and you ripping open the boxes full of toys, candies, and more that they had both gotten for you.

By the time you had finished, wrapping lay every which way, and you were curled up under the tree, surrounded by all your new things, sleeping steadily.

Crowley scoffed lightly at the sight of you, “And she thought she wasn’t tired.”

Aziraphel chuckled as he looked at you with fondness, “I think she rather enjoyed herself.”

“Indeed,” He lolled his head to face his husband against the back of the couch, “Merry Christmas, Angel.”

“Merry Christmas, Crowley.” He said back, taking his husbands hand with a smile.

Ineffable Husbands 😇- none yet

[strangesthirdeye]

Little star (Ineffable husbands x toddler! Reader)

Summary: Just two celestial beings taking care of their toddler who is bored.

Warning: toddler, sweet, Aziraphale in shock, Crowley is chill, The age of the reader may be in 1 or 2 years, two hubby is romantic, fluff. Plants. Pretend that ep 6 never happen, Az and Crow is married!

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"She shouldn't be near any books here.. It's- It's dangerous!" Aziraphale reasoned with a worried expression on his face. Well, he tried to give an excuse so that his book wouldn't be damaged by you actually because he loved his book more than himself. Huh.

Crowley groaned. "Ngk- she wants your attention, Angel. You're always devoted to reading books. Just let her spend time with you if you don't want her near your books" Crowley picked you up from behind.

Your expression changed to stunned then you happily cheered as your daddy picked you up. You like it when your daddy picks you up. He is very tall and the moment he picks you up, you can see the view at your daddy's height. It is quite different from your papa. Papa usually hugs you tightly and it's quite comfortable and warm for you, making you always sleep in his arms. It is very comfortable like sleeping on a cloud.

"well, you see, Crowley. I have work to complete but not only just reading, but I need to settle a little message from Maggie about the black disk I ordered from her. It seems like the things I need will take a long time to arrived. Why don't you umm.. take care of her for a while after that we can enjoy hot chocolate together after I finish this work." Aziraphale suggested to his husband.

Crowley grumbled then adjusted your position in his hand that was about to fall. You smiled widely in Crowley's hand and rested your head on Crowley's shoulder.

"I'm bored" you said flatly then sighed with boredom.

"You better finish your work quickly, angel." Crowley muttered then walked into the living room of the bookshop with you in his arms.

Aziraphale just shook his head a few times then put on his glasses and continued writing a message to Maggie.

As soon as the two of you arrived in the living room of the bookshop, Crowley sauntered over to the couch and placed you on the couch. You sat up straight looking at your daddy with innocent eyes. Crowley just grumbled and slumped into the seat in front of you lazily.

You blinked a few times then grumbled like your daddy and slumped onto the couch lazily mimicking the actions Crowley was making. Crowley noticed what you did in front of him.

"You sure as hell are bored aren't you?" Crowley stated at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Papa doesn't want to play with me and you just sit on the chair. I am so bored" you complained in your small voice.

Crowley was silent for a moment. It's true tho. Crowley just sits around all day while Aziraphale is just busy with his book leaving you alone to play in the bookshop. No wonder you start showing your behavior to show that you need the attention of both of them. You are bored and they have no time at all to play with you. They were busy with their own affairs after Jim's case was over or should I say Gabriel's case. You love Jim not Gabriel. He's fun and a bit weird but fun to play with. He always treats you like a friend and sometimes Jim is a bit naive to follow whatever you say because to him you are a great friend. But after Jim's case is over, you have no friends to play with.

Crowley straightened himself to look at you with sympathetic eyes under his tinted glasses. "oh, Star. come here" Crowley opened his hand to you.

You quickly ran into Crowley's arms and hugged him tightly. Crowley's hands then hugged tightly around your small body and stroked gently. Crowley leaned his head and kissed your hair softly.

"Fancy a quick journey to the plant room?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Yell at them, Star. They're just stupid plants that don't know how to grow well" Crowley encouraged you, who was held by him facing the plant.

You grumbled angrily while swinging your arms in the air. "IS DAT A SHPOT?! IS IT? HUH?! YOU'VE MADE DADDY DISHAPPOINTED!"

"again, Star. Now they're afraid of you. Good!" Crowley grinned proudly. You are still in his arms facing the plants with a furious face.

"No more SHPOT OR I WILL BURNT YOU!" your face turned red with how angry you were.

Yup, you are indeed the daughter of Crowley and Aziraphale but more to Crowley when it comes to plants or how lazy you are. But your interests and things you like are the same as Aziraphale. Sometimes you are friendly with people you know and sometimes you are grumpy with strangers. So basically you are a mix of demon and angel as a result of Crowley and Aziraphale's miracle. Tadaa.

The plants there trembled in fear. You sighed heavily and looked at the plant with sharp eyes. If looks could kill, the plants there would have withered and died long ago. Crowley chuckled and turned your body to face him. Crowley then hugged you tightly and kissed your head.

"Good job, star" Crowley complimented proudly.

You looked at your daddy with emotion and pressed your face to his chest tightly with a thousand 'thank yous' to him.

"Crowley? what's that noise?"

Crowley turned and looked at Aziraphale with surprise. "well-"

"please don't tell me that you encouraged her to yell at the plant again." Aziraphale massaged the bridge of his nose.

"She's bored, Angel. It's not wrong if you want to spend time while she's bored, isn't it?" Crowley responded as he walked closer to his husband with you in Crowley's arms.

"no it's not wrong, dear. but you shouldn't encourage her to do that. It's enough for you alone to yell at the plants but not with Y/n. She should encourage the plants properly and not get angry at them all the time"Aziraphale advises Crowley.

Crowley grumbled and walked away with you in his arms. You leaning your head on your Daddy's shoulder lazily. Aziraphale sighed and followed Crowley from behind.

"it's seems to me that this little poppet is a bit bored, isn't she?" Aziraphale poked your cheek with his finger.

"No shit, Angel" Crowley cursed lowly.

You gasped and patted your daddy on the shoulder with your small hand. "Papa! Daddy said bad words!"

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with an unpleasant look on his face then took you from Crowley's hand and hugged you tightly to his chest.

'come on!" Crowley argued.

Aziraphale ignored him and cooed at you. "now then, Y/n. How about we go relax and drink hot chocolate while listening to classic songs.. what do you say?"

"Can I have marshmallows too, Papa?" you asked for permission while looking at Aziraphale's face with stars in your eyes.

"What's the magic word, dear?" Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at you.

"Can I have some marshmallows too, please?" you corrected.

"yes you may, my dear.. Good girl. let's go" Aziraphale praised you and walked towards the kitchen leaving Crowley there to make hot chocolate before he snapped his fingers and automatically the classic song started playing.

Crowley just stared. Then started following Aziraphale from behind.

"Can I have hot chocolate too? with marshmallows." Crowley said.

"magic word, Crowley" Aziraphale replied.

"oh, come on.." Crowley paused. "please"

Aziraphale looked at Crowley and approved. "very nice"

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

To the person who just sent me that request about parental figures Aziraphale and Crowley with a kid with bad anxiety...

As someone who has had horrible anxiety their whole life, this is the best idea anyone has ever fed me, and I am honored to be writing this for you. I'm slow as fuck because school has started back and I'm busy, but I can't wait to work on this for you. I'm probably going to prioritize it over work - which I know I'll regret later - because I'm so excited about this.

Anon with the big brain ideas.

[book-place]

Ineffable Family Masterlist

(Series does not need to be read in a particular order)

Toddlers and Toys- It’s Christmas day, but you appear to be the only one in your household to care

Fears and Facing Them- You felt better about conquering your fear knowing it was just your father

Taglist: @rex-ray