Hello! I'm tired

Jinsu // Sydney, Australia // she/her // 23

[skippysy]

A calm morning

[pikipouet]

Us time

(thank you all for your heartwarming welcome backs ❤️❤️ kind of feels like coming home from a long trip)

[eklmrlos]

extremely drunk and helplessly smitten

[chernozemm]

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.

[kotoinari]

[angie-words]

Happy Friday, folks! This might be the last set of memes for a couple of weeks as I have a few things on, but normal service will resume shortly 🫡 Heads up: brief reference to the final 15 in no. 9 but hopefully nothing too heartbreaking this week 💜

Once again, resolution gets squished on mobile/the app, so click on them to get rid of the fuzziness!

Last meme dump

[halcyon1796]

doodle

[cinetherat]

[eklmrlos]

extremely drunk and helplessly smitten

[m-artsoul]

27/09/23

and i know it sounds so old but cupid got me in a chokehold

[nomekohaji]

Crowley and Nanny doodles

[scottishmushroom]

inaccurate good omens part 2

Someone get me banned from tumblr or I’ll never stop making these.

inaccurate good omens master post

[eklmrlos]

please just 90 minutes of them cuddling and being in love

[eklmrlos]

aziraphale catches crowley etching their initials into a tree in their back garden

read our collab with @crowleystits, inspired by a mug, in the chapter here!

[iminlovewithmybentley]

[ezra-didntreallyfall]

Some soft romantic good omens + text posts for the soul

[eklmrlos]

please just 90 minutes of them cuddling and being in love