#headcanoning that he just brings one with him when he comes in and aziraphale doesn't bring it up

[densewentz]

do i think crowley has been filling the bookshop with fire extinguishers as a way to sooth what is probably a wild case of celestial ptsd in regards to the trauma of running into the burning bookshop and thinking his husband best friend had been killed in season 1? yes i do

[cinnamonmango]

A little headcanon about archangels (and princes of Hell, who had been archangels before the Fall)

The archangels were created as, first and foremost, a heavenly weapon. This heavily affects their personalities, no matter how much they try to soften up during peaceful times.

Demons, who tried to kidnap amnesiac Gabriel, told him that he was a terrible being, and his memory loss was his punishment. Crowley angrily accuses him of cruelty and hypocrisy, not knowing that Gabriel could hear this from the other room. And Aziraphale just awkwardly keeps silence.

So Gabriel distances himself from everyone, contemplating this new bits of information. He doesn't like the idea that he could be a bad person. But no one, it seems, would believe him, and, anyway, the least of all he wants to hide from the possible truth.

Belzebub find him lost in thought and asks what's going on. And they instantly explode with anger when they hear about what happened.

"But they can't all be wrong." Gabriel points out softly. Belzebub only growl in response, pacing back and forth like an enraged beast. This is a striking contrast to the lazy, melancholic personality Gabriel grew to know for the last weeks.

"And... they said that we used to be rivals."

"...so what?" Beelzebub snap. Their usually soft features turn into a sharp snarl. Gabriel slowly exhales, collecting his thoughts into careful words.

Somehow, it's a familiar feeling.

"So... If you'll ever change your mind , or, after I'll remember everything..."

"I like you," Beelzebub cut him off, as they relaxe slightly. "I don't care what we were before. I like you, and I'm not going to give up on you. Unless you decide to leave on your own violation. You." they repeat sternly. "On your own. Without any 'it'll be better for them without me'."

"I don't know... We both don't know, who I was," Gabriel softly stops them, causing an indignant grumble. "Over the past few days, it's turned out that everyone who knew me hate me—"

"Who." Beelzebub's eyes narrow dangerously as they interrupt him. When Gabriel doesn't answer, they repeat. "I need names, Gabe."

"Why?"

"You're getting yourself all worked up over some fools. If it'll make you feel better, I'll bring you the heads of everyone who hate you. Will that solve the problem?"

For a moment, Gabriel looks completely dumbfounded by their logic. Beelzebub cross their arms on the chest, defiantly raising their chin. If Gabriel thinks he had done something bad in the past, then, in comparison to them... He has another thing coming.

"What does it say about me as a person if I find your offer rather romantic?" Gabriel asks, slightly tilting his head to the side. His eyes still hadn't lost that annoying restless sparkle, but the familiar impish smile had returned to his lips. Beelzebub finally relax, plopping down beside him and wrapping their arms around his neck.

"Dunno. That you like romantic gestures? Or that you are perfect babygirl material?" they hum thoughtfully, slipping back into their usual persona. The laughter received in response is easy enough to put out the remaining flare-ups of their aggression.

[fanishjuli]

hi! can we hear a bit more about sundresses and/or Ley de Identidad de Género?

(from this ask game)

yes! sundresses is very cute and one of the first GO fics I remember starting. it's inspired by this post I made and it's literally just Aziraphale and Crowley both wearing sundresses. except that this is me we're talking about so it got longer and longer and longer and what I thought would be a short and sweet ficlet is currently 5325 words long and Aziraphale hasn't even put his dress on yet. there are lot's of lovely feelings and communication and reassurances and hugs and kisses and a preparing and eating a meal and Crowley in a dress but I'm still only like a half, maybe two thirds of the way done.

here's a snippet for you from the very start (for context: Crowley covered Aziraphale's eyes, he hasn't seen the dress and doesn't know what Crowley is wearing yet)

“You promise not to turn or try and peek a look until I tell you?”

“Promise, darling.” He raises a hand to where Crowley’s cover his eyes. “I’ve even got my eyes closed right now.” Crowley sighs and lets go, one hand falling down to her side and the other holding on to Aziraphale’s. The angel smiles and brings their tangled hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s knuckles. “Thank you, dear. May I open my eyes now? Just to finish breakfast, I won’t look at you.”

“Yeah, okay.” She lets his hand go and takes two steps back, remaining behind him so he can’t see her out of the corner of his eyes either.

“Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale opens his eyes and looks down at the cream. Perfect. He then looks up at the stove, just in time to flip the pancake. And... perfect as well. “I need to grab the apples and cutting board so I’m going to close my eyes and turn to the table and cabinets, dear. You can move out of the way until I’m back facing this way so I don’t see you, would that be okay Crowley?”

Crowley swallows, her mouth suddenly feeling a little dry. “Yes, that’s fine, angel.” She moves out of his line of sight, absolutely not feeling choked up about her husband caring for her so much he goes out of his way to respect her silly request for him not to look at her just yet. Absolutely not. She is a demon with class, she refuses to feel choked up about being loved this way. And she refuses to cry about it, damnit. It’s nine in the morning, get yourself together Crowley.

and it gets much softer from there 😊

as for Ley de Identidad de Género, thats a fun one as well. if you've ever heard me talk about a single law in my life it's that one, la ley nacional de identidad de genero from Argentina (the national gender identity law) which is fucking fantastic and I love it and I guess I wanted to share how fucking amazing a law it is with the rest of the world, so I had this idea of having Aziraphale and Crowley being excited about what a fucking good law it is. and it's also an excuse to play with one of my headcanons about them being generally excited about human progress

here's a snippet from the beginning:

"Angel! You'll never guess what they did yesterday," Crowley shoves the pile of newspapers aside and takes a seat on the edge of the desk. Aziraphale sighs with resignation.

He is holding back a smile, however, always happy to play this game but not ready to give it away. It's been happening more and more often these past decades, but it's been centuries since the first time they played. They know all the steps by now: Crowley comes in excited about some new thing the humans have done, he makes Aziraphale guess at what it is for a bit before finally telling him, and then they share a drink in celebration.

His favourite so far has to be when Crowley told him they were venturing out into space. She'd been all but shaking with excitement and her dark glasses kept falling down her nose with how much she couldn't sit still. She couldn't wait, didn't let him make more than four guesses before she just told him. They went out for dinner and shared a nice vintage scotch Aziraphale had been saving for a special occasion afterwards, because what was more special than Crowley's enthusiasm like it was that day? Her smile didn't drop once all evening and the only other time Aziraphale had seen her close to that was when they held their breaths and watched together as the first human stepped on the moon. The twentieth century was, all things considered, some exciting decades of human development, if one could overlook the reason for most of those developments being war of some kind or another.

The way Crowley sits on his desk now, the genuine grin on his face, the relaxed posture and always-twitching fingers and, most importantly, the way he lets his glasses slide down an inch and makes eye contact over them, Aziraphale can tell this is a really good one. Whatever humanity has done now, he knows it's Good.