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he turns the drinks he ordered into wine and then just cries loudly in the mcdonald’s parking lot while blasting olivia rodrigo

(reposting this without the. uh. addition)

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That one reference.

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infatuation makes your heart race love is quiet. love sets you at ease.

and because most of my pieces are mental screenshots of little scenes in my head, here's the scene:

Crowley was tugged into consciousness bit by bit. The afternoon light slowly filtered in, as well as the hum of music from the other room and the weird angle his neck was at. He was warm and content and wanted to sink back into his nap, but the threads of sleep fluttered away the more he tried. Finally, he took a deeper breath, shifting in the armchair, and cracked an eye open just a sliver. There he was, the angel, sitting at his desk. Had hardly noticed Crowley was awake, engulfed in his task of retouching a damaged page. Looking at his hands, Crowley became aware of the fuzzy warmth covering his own and peeked down to see a blanket tucked around his shoulders.

The feeling hit him so hard he let his head loll to the side, eyes closed. His chest tightened and he just…buckled. Finally came undone under the weight of his love for Aziraphale. Its inexorable, steadfast pull which he had been pushing back against for millennia, it had finally caught him off guard, sleepy and vulnerable and so tired from holding back, from refusing to name it. It was a quiet surrender. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale with the understanding of a man meeting his end and embracing it.

Perhaps he could gently pull the blanket to the side and get up. Perhaps he could cross the few steps to the desk and place a freshly made cup of tea to Aziraphale’s right. Perhaps he would hold his gaze, for longer than needed to answer “Don’t mention it”. Perhaps he would ask him if he would like a scone with that. Perhaps Aziraphale would understand that this was not about the scone at all. And yet, what Crowley was asking of him was also exactly about scones. And tea. And quiet afternoons together. Perhaps the angel would finally put down his sword, too, and the world would let out a breath it had been holding for millennia.

the soulmate to this piece, i guess.

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extremely drunk and helplessly smitten

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eeeeeeh hi

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☁️ He's Smoking ☁️

Ko-Fi Shop | Patreon

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❤️‍🩹 Oh, angel 🌧️

Ko-Fi Shop | Patreon

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extremely drunk and helplessly smitten

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Need a ride?👀🔥✨ (preview)

I wasn't joking about it👀🔥

Inspired by @youryurigoddess 's idea~

🩷

Notes: I'm working on the full version, I had so many difficulties in the last two weeks😭 A very deep bereavement in my family, my car engine broke down and - for real, I'm cursed with bad luck... - there was a fire in my apartment building! I'm fine (and so are my plants), but there was so much smoke that the fire department came and now I don't know if they're going to ask us to pay or not. I want to try to stay positive, but sometimes it's really hard. Plus, at my job they increased my hours. Oh god, I need a vacation.

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😈&😇had planned a picnic, but someone is running late.

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"Hello~"

*said like a waiter at a fancy bar* "If you like soft Crowley with a cat, this piece pairs beautifully with this adorable fic by the one and only @itsscottiesstark."

》"Come Rain Or Come Shine"《

@Happy birthday @itchiefeet

I hope you had a great day ♡♡♡

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Good Omens Edwardian S-curve Crowley.

Cause of improbable silhouettes and rare plumage hats that get you stuck in doorways.

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please just 90 minutes of them cuddling and being in love

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An “Accident”…

Forgot I have Tumblr 😭 but hiii have some homo art 🫶

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i desperately need this demon to smile more

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aziraphale stays at crowley’s place, but is not used to sleeping, so he spends the entire night consumed by confused yearning