Some Of Your Books Make It Seems Like You Believe In Actual Literal Magic, Do You? ()

"that sounds..." "lonely? yeh."

And then they spent the next few thousands of years, making sure the other wasnt lonely. hush, shut up, be quiet, im ill

my brain is all fried up but I needed to get something out of my system so!! drabbly ineffable husbands comic between commissions, work and studying

Sleight Of Hand - Chapter 1: The Pledge

@moonyinpisces and I proudly present Chapter 1 of “Sleight Of Hand”: The Pledge!

Read on Ao3 (with extra Comic pages!)

Early release of comic pages as well as sketches and uncensored Versions on my Patreon.

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“It’s our last night on Earth,” Crowley says, voice wrung together in chapped, rusted parts. “Six thousand years of this. Of never– of not getting to– *eurgh!”* Uncaring of the styling, Crowley runs frantic hands through his hair, mussing it up in tight, torturous fists. “Six thousand years. And it’s a bloody *photograph* that does us in.” 

His eyes are golden, molten in the warm, ambient light. The pulse at his long, taut neck is fluttering like a trapped bird, the skin there thin, delicate. “Hm,” Aziraphale says distractedly, without thinking too much of it. “I’d always thought it would’ve been what we’d got up to at Job’s.”

Crowley zeroes in on Aziraphale, at that point. All of this has been musings to himself, of attacks towards nobody in particular. Perhaps God. Most likely God. But now he’s not looking at God, and he’s looking at Aziraphale instead. It sets Aziraphale on edge, prickles the angelic sense at the back of his neck. It quickens his pulse, settles the heat of his body decidedly southward. But more than that, perhaps most of all; it makes Aziraphale be as reminded of Crowley’s human body as he is of his own, at this exact moment. 

The demon takes a step forward. Aziraphale, a stuttered step back. His fingers are curled into the top of his opposite sleeve, tips brushing the edge of the polaroid he’d nearly grabbed.

“Calm down, Crowley,” he says waveringly. 

“Calm *down?*” Crowley repeats quietly, dangerously. He’s looking Aziraphale in the eye, now. He’s looking nowhere else. 

Another step. Forward, back. Aziraphale licks his lips. 

“It’s all going to be alright, my dear boy,” he tries. He clears his throat, shifts his fingers further into his sleeve. “You see–”

He’s cut off. Quick as a flash, Crowley’s gripping him around the shoulders, shoves him back so his arse is pressed to the lip of the vanity, the lit-up mirror alighting him from behind. Aziraphale’s arms draw up around the demon’s shoulders in surprise. There’s nowhere else to go, no more steps to take. The look in Crowley’s eye speaks of a hunger all-too-familiar to Aziraphale. Reminiscent of meat, of basements, of languishing drunkenly at the end of another man’s Earth. Behind Crowley’s head, Aziraphale has the photograph clenched in one hand. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers. 

“Don’t–” Crowley’s expression is fierce, desperate. “Don’t say *anything–*” 

Aziraphale opens his mouth to say something else.

*“Angel.”* Crowley makes a desperate sort of sound, and then their lips are pressed together, and Aziraphale freezes altogether. 

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Keep reading

Would you mind but i’m dropping that, you’re welcome !

Took 3 hours on it 👍

Azi *trying to flirt again*: Crowley, is it hot in here or-

Crowley: I suppose, but it's less than 90°F ...

Azi *suppressing gay tears of frustration*: WHY. GOD. WHY.

Crowley: What? Why is it less than 90 degrees?

Azi:

Crowley: ...because you're acute angel.

"And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't"

OUR EXISTENCE

Not the last few years, not the last century or so, their EXISTENCE.

They've been in love since the beginning 🥺

Aziraphale's Inbox

“Am I ssure?” Crowley hissed, pressing scalding kisses under Aziraphale’s jaw. “Six thousand years and you ask if I’m sure?” @theladyzephyr

This started as a couple of cute sketches and was going to be a quick comic (after all, the fic is less than 500 words), but well, things quickly spiraled out of control. I mean, look at them.

Some ideas about characters have become so common in the fandom that I began to doubt myself and what I saw on screen. Am I the one misinterpreting or misremembering? So I watched the entire series again, paying more attention than I normally do, precisely because by then I was unsure of my own thoughts. But none of what pisses me off is actually in the show, it's all added by the fandom.

Crowley is not pathetic, he is not Aziraphale's dog, he is not crying in a corner waiting for Aziraphale to call him. He's fucking smart, brave, full of ideas and imagination. Aziraphale is not a mastermind who purposely makes Crowley suffer, he is not the cold-hearted badass that some want him to be.

Some things I don't like - I hate when someone calls Crowley a slut or a whore - might be a matter of personal preference. I dislike that choice of words, but someone use them in a affectionate (?) way, I guess. But if you enjoy humiliating Crowley or if you believe that Aziraphale is someone who enjoys humiliating Crowley and that he thinks of him as if he were his dog, you can write your own fanfic, but that’s not canon.

YES

I'm seeing a buncha theories saying that Aziraphale and Crowley have been having sex the whole time. May I please present to you my rebuttal? Here it is:

6000 year old virgins acting like they know what the fuck they're doing would be hysterical.