Steve it's been a week, how are you doing after the go3 finale? 🥲
Oooh, good question... cutting for spoilers...
ahhhh, honestly, idek?! i didn't hate the go3 finale, but i also didn't love it... to me, it felt so slapdash, more like a series of moments strung together than a coherent storyline, with some shining jewels among those moments, but mostly ... not. i guess?
i was in go book fandom for 10+ years before the tv series came out, so for me this just feels like another interpretation that i overall enjoyed, but that ended much, much differently than i would have liked. i'm more disappointed than anything else, as i thought s1 was a great interpretation of the book, and while i was skeptical about s1 existing at all, i just adored it once i watched it.
aziraphale is one of my all time favorite fictional characters, so... ahh, idk. i think most people like crowley best, and i'm still pondering how that affects my reaction to s3.
that being said... i do find asa and anthony very cute and would love to write some h/c ficlets for them... 🥺
and as a prompt just something sweet with my babyboy Crowley, and some protective fussy Aziraphale, maybe a walk through the park!
and if you do it i pinky-promise you to make a drawing for it >:3c hehe
- A lizard with a red beanie 🦎❤️
Ohhh, ty for this adorable prompt! I hope you enjoy and please know I welcome any small art you might be inspired to create <3 <3
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“Shall we sit?” Aziraphale says and nods towards the park bench. “Now that it’s finally warm enough.”
Crowley gives a shrug, but of course he’ll agree. Whatever ability he had to say no to Aziraphale faded decades and years ago. Parks and museums and theatres and quaint tea shops, he’s found himself in all of them no matter how much he knows some part of his demon heart should persuade him to walk away.
“I suppose it is,” Crowley says and glances at the sky, then immediately regrets it when his eyes start to tear up despite his sunglasses.
“After all those days of chilly drizzle.” Aziraphale rests his hand at the small of Crowley’s back, the touch light and brief, and Crowley feels something like sunlight flash through him.
That sensation is light and brief, too, and he knows he’ll say yes to sitting in the park until sunset, and then dinner, and then–
He pauses mid-thought, first because letting that thought remain unfinished has a deliciousness to it, and second because he can feel the faint prickle behind his eyes that tells him they want to itch and water.
Springtime in England takes forever to arrive some years, but when it does, it does with such vengeance. Sun and rain most days, and the pollen. If he focuses his vision just right, Crowley can see how it crowds the air, and how the powdery scent diffuses through it.
Crowley squeezes his eyes shut to quell the itch, then shakes his head when Aziraphale makes a noise at him that’s somehow both curious and worried already. His eyes go soft when Crowley shakes his head again, then sniffles, and Aziraphale looks ready to melt into more gentle touches and sunshine-warm moments.
“We could go back to the bookshop. Oh, I do have a few fine bottles we haven’t even thought about opening.” Aziraphale touches Crowley’s elbow at another sniffle.
“You spend enough t-time–” Crowley pauses, breathy and uncertain, and this time when he squeezes his eyes shut, he angles away from Aziraphale. “uhhh.. hXTch!”
“Oh… already?” Aziraphale says, as if he hasn’t seen this coming for the past hour or so.
Crowley casts him a sidelong glance in reply, not able to say anything with the itch now crowding behind his eyes and sinuses. He’s going to sneeze again and it’s taking all his willpower to not cascade into a dozen at a time.
“hh–GXtchh!” He does let himself sneeze once more, then shudders a little at how very much the tree pollen itches. Not just his sinuses and his eyes, but for a moment, his whole head seems to ring with the desperate urge to sneeze and sneeze.
“There, dear,” Aziraphale murmurs and touches Crowley’s elbow again, guiding him to sit down. He hesitates a moment before sitting himself and rests his hand on Crowley’s leg.
Something inside Crowley shifts, something well-worn and older than days and decades, and he can’t help but sigh a little. He rubs at his nose once, and then again, more firmly, and is about to rub his eyes when he snaps aside.
“uhhEISHH’hh! huhhESH’oo!” The sneezes tumble out and Crowley blinks away the itch and tears from his eyes, almost surprised by how good that felt.
Aziraphale's hand tightens on Crowley’s leg and Crowley just leans right into him. He’ll be a mess all evening, if he lets himself, and now he suspects that he will.
“I don’t know how you still manage to fuss,” Crowley says.
“I’m not,” Aziraphale replies. “But I will,” he adds.
You've heard of "Sick Character A Goes Over To Healthy Character B's House When the Weather Is Bad; Character B Insists They Stay Over When They Find Out They're Sick" and I raise you "Healthy Character A Goes Over To Sick Character B's House When The Weather Is Bad; Character B Worries About Character A Going Home In The Snow And Wants Them To Stay But Doesn't Want Them To Think They're Needy; Meanwhile Character A Worries About How Sick B Is And Wants To Stay To Take Care Of Them But Doesn't Want To Intrude"
comforting you while you're vulnerable, running my fingers through your disheveled hair, placing a cold compress to your skin, flushed and hot to the touch, etc.
maybe their cheeks are slightly flushed. maybe their eyes are a bit glassy and the dark circles under their eyes a little darker. maybe their hands are colder than usual. maybe they're quieter or clingier than usual. maybe they keep rubbing their nose or letting out quiet sniffles when no one's looking
• falling asleep fully clothed, possibly with jacket and shoes still on, legs/feet hanging off the foot of the bed or sprawled half-on half-off a couch
• the “oh shit, i’m gonna faint/nevermind i’m good” face (and aborted grab for nearest solid object or person)
• a character losing their footing for a moment on rough terrain. someone reaching out to grab them so they don’t fall and they both hold on for a hot second
• closing their eyes and leaning into a gentle touch
• shaky hands, shaky voice
• falling asleep at their desk at work/tucked away in an odd place
• doing things that are out of character & having others start to notice: losing their cool, being extra chipper or extra quiet, jumpy
• zoning out
• someone getting between them and whoever they’re having a heated exchange with, gently pushing them back with a hand against their chest or shoulder
• slipping out of sight from the others to lean against a wall, tip their head back and close their eyes
You might like this one! I was thinking of Crowley not necessarily being defensive about it, but just genuinely stressed about telling Aziraphale that he's not feeling well. Not angry or not dismissive, just slowly melting in place praying to somebody that Aziraphale doesn't suspect anything. All while looking and feeling absolutely wretched.
Prompt so good I had to get out of hibernation to respond. I love this.
Imagine a ruler of some kingdom, but they happen to be a bit sickly and ailing. Thus they have a private physician, who always accompanies them to treat their lingering coughs, sniffles, headaches and fevers.
Over time, the physician becomes a very close confidant/ confidante of the ruler.
And perhaps they fall for them a little more each time they are called into the rulers bedchamber late at night to cure a very intense headache, or to find something that might alleviate the ruler's incessantly sneezy, runny nose.
Until taking care of that ruler is more than a position they hold, but their life's delight because they get to tend to their crush each day.
And perhaps over the time, the ruler might notice that they sometimes call for the physician not because they are unwell, but because they miss their company. Or because their presence is the remedy they long for when being sick...
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