seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Germany
seen from Algeria
seen from China
seen from Algeria
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Kyrgyzstan
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Lebanon
seen from Thailand
Alright, I'm gonna say it -- Key sounds like he learned English from a bunch of old drag queens
hdhudbz he does :') i love him ♡ and, maybe he did? he has friends in the drag community so?
but, we do also know that he enjoys us tv shows, and he learnt a lot of english from them
he's said used to watch a lot of ugly betty, for example. he still loves and watches desperate housewives.
maybe he watches drag race too?
Hello, do you maybe know any stories with a tattooed aziraphale? If not any story with a focus on tattoos in either of the ineffable husbands would be great. Thanks a lot!
I’ve found a few that hopefully fit what you’re looking for, dear!
One Sweet Moment Set Aside For Us by Arej
Tattoos are like stories you write on your skin, and they'll say things for you if you'll let them. Or perhaps prompt other people to say things.
Or, Crowley is just drunk enough to get bold and let his guard down, and it leads to something he never thought he'd be allowed to have.
Your Kiss Was A Red Tattoo by fallsouthwinter
Aziraphale has tattoos. Crowley appreciates them.
(Love Is Like A) Snake Tattoo by levnons
“You have a tattoo of a snake,” Crowley said, flatly.
Aziraphale wrung his hands, and the drink beside him replenished with the scent of something akin to paint thinner.
“Er. ‘A’ would imply one, singular tattoo.”
i can't say the words, so i wrote you into my verse by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)
Aziraphale blinks as it slowly dawns on him exactly what he’s looking at. Crowley has a tattoo. Well, another one anyway. Unlike the small serpent curled just beneath his temple, this one takes up far more space.
~Mod P
A more specific Hurt/Comfort Prompt -- Aziraphale has been having terrible awful nightmares (subject doesn't matter, likely heaven/hell related) and is very, very hesitant about asking comfort from Crowley
Aziraphale woke with a start, terror still heavy in his bones, still seizing in his muscles, and tried to take a breath through the constriction in his chest. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t call out for several minutes as the nightmare faded, leaving behind it only the bitter taste of adrenaline and an ache that wasn’t real, couldn’t possibly be real.
He hadn’t lost Crowley.
As soon as he had motor control back in hand, he rolled into a sitting position and picked up the small, fragile piece of technology he’d invested in since the world didn’t end. The screen lit when he touched it, and a couple of taps brought him into his image gallery. Almost all of them were of Crowley, many of them even smiling, and Aziraphale flipped through them until his heart stopped pounding. Gently, and without actually touching the screen, Aziraphale brushed a thumb across his favorite photo, one of Crowley looking up at him with a bit of a sly smile, ruined by the lack of his glasses and the fondness in his golden eyes.
Aziraphale tapped the screen a couple more times, switching to his contacts list. There was only one name, only one person he would want to call from anywhere except the comfort of his bookshop. And despite that he opened the entry almost nightly lately, he had yet to actually call. The time listed at the top of the phone read 3:14am, and Aziraphale was loathe to wake Crowley for such a trivial problem as a nightmare.
Their corporations had been more demanding lately, without the ability to recharge them in Heaven or Hell respectively. Crowley might have been having a little easier time of it, but not by much. He’d slept before, and eaten on occasion, but for the most part he was used to being as inhuman as Aziraphale was and while they were not, exactly, human, they weren’t exactly the same as other angels and demons anymore. Even if they could have returned to Heaven and Hell to recharge their mortal forms, Aziraphale thought they’d still be… different.
For one, they dreamed now.
Or at least, when Aziraphale had first broached the subject, to ask if Crowley ever dreamed, Crowley had told him yes, and that had been the end of it. Aziraphale had read some books on dreaming since, and decided that it must be considered a bit of a personal affair, and that sharing them was something most humans only did with their close friends. Crowley hadn’t seemed particularly keen on sharing anything more than that he had them, and so Aziraphale had not brought it up again.
Which also meant that he closed his contact list and set the darkened phone back on the night stand without calling Crowley.
As soon as he did, the screen lit up, Crowley’s name at the top and little red and green phone symbols over the top of Aziraphale’s favorite photo. For a brief moment, Aziraphale worried he had somehow pressed the call button, but this was definitely Crowley calling him, not the other way around. Quickly, he swiped at the green phone button, and lifted the phone to his ear.
“Are you alright?” he asked, instead of saying hello. There was absolutely no reason for Crowley to call him at quarter past three in the morning unless it was an emergency.
“Can’t sleep,” came Crowley’s voice, though it carried the scratch that came with having just woken up.
Aziraphale laid back against his headboard. “Me either,” he admitted quietly. There was something to these mobile phones, that he could be here in the softness and relative privacy of his bedroom and still talk to Crowley. Maybe he should have had one sooner. “Do you… that is, I wouldn’t mind company, if you like.”
Crowley let out a loud breath. “I’d like that,” he said, as earnest as Aziraphale had ever heard him be. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”
Aziraphale frowned. “Did something happen?”
There was a long silence, so long that Aziraphale pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure he hadn’t accidentally disconnected it somehow, but when he put it back, Crowley said: “It’s just, nothing. Silly to let it get to me. They’re just nightmares.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale said, heart breaking. So that was it. That was what Crowley hadn’t wanted to tell him about dreaming- neither one of them were. “I have them too.”
“Yeah?” Crowley said, sounding a little… hopeful, almost. “You never said.”
“You never said either,” Aziraphale pointed out, then forced himself to relax. “Come over, Crowley. We can talk about them in person. Maybe get breakfast in the morning?”
He could hear Crowley’s smile in his words. “Be there soon.”
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A BIG BEAUTIFUL valentine to the authors of Skating Your Way Through. Your story is one of the best in our fandom. It is at turns sweet and sad and infuriating and sexy and funny. it is ALL THE THINGS and more. Thank you all for this AMAZINGNESS.
@anamelesstraveler | AO3
@fallsouthwinter | AO3
@semisweetshadow | AO3
@wingedbears | AO3
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Chapter 12 of Skating Your Way Through is up! Written by @anamelesstraveler @wingedbears @fallsouthwinter and myself.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassian Andor/Bodhi Rook Characters: Cassian Andor, Bodhi Rook, Jyn Erso, K-2SO (Star Wars), Rose Tico, Paige Tico, Luke Skywalker, Wedge Antilles Additional Tags: Kid Fic, Minor Wedge Antilles/Luke Skywalker, Pining, Eventual Smut, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Winter, Ice Skating, Anxiety Attacks, Light Angst, Fluff, Figure Skater Cassian, Ex Hockey Player Bodhi, single parent Bodhi, Kid rose, Kid Paige, Slow Burn Summary:
An injury sends figure skater Cassian Andor to a tiny Canadian town for rehabilitation. He’s instructed to heal, rest, and enjoy the clean mountain air. And he hates the very idea of it.
Until he falls - literally - into the lives of single dad Bodhi and two exuberant daughters. Cassian finds himself unbelievably charmed by the little family and, as it turns out, the feeling is mutual.
Bodhi Rook never expected to find love again but with Cassian...he starts to hope.
Chapter 7 of our monster skating au is up! And it’s a big one this time.
4 and 6 for Bassian?
4. Who likes to sleep on the other’s chest just to hear their heart beat?
Both. They kinda take turns depending on who needs it.
They both have lost so many and so much and sometimes each of them needs the comfort of hearing the other’s heartbeat and know that they’re still there, that they’re still alive and with them.
It isn’t always connected with anything dramatic, no life and death situation involved, though they have plenty of those to spare between them, it’s when that sense of loss and bereavement becomes overwhelming.
6. Who sneaks kisses while at a formal dinner party?
Bodhi. Cassian always takes everything very seriously and treats every state dinner they’re invited to after the war is over as if it was an infiltration mission. Bodhi delights in the fact that they’re finally free. the only reason he bothers sneaking them and doesn’t just snog Cassian outright in the middle of the poached salmon, is that he respects Cassian’s need to maintain some decorum.
Still, he sometimes just needs to kiss Cassian and esteemed guests be damned.
Ask me questions about OTPs.
...whooo's gonna tell them that being gay or Korean are not mutually exclusive?
I always find it hilarious when people are all DON'T ASSUME! And then accuse people of being borderline if not flat out racist for *assuming* someone from a different culture/country is queer. Sure cultures are different, but humans are fundamentally the same. And being queer has it's own culture to it that, SURPRISE, cishet people aren't aware of and seem to have problems understanding. In the case of Key (or anyone else we speculate on), our "baseless assumptions" are using clues based off our own experiences being queer, and when you've been in the community long enough you find out how other queer people come out to each other without explicitly stating they're queer, but to anyone outside of the community they wouldn't get it because that's the whole point. You say it/don't say it in such a way it comes with plausible deniability. It's a safety mechanism, because the closet, glass or otherwise, is safe, and being out regardless of the support and affection and love you find isn't safe for a multitude of reasons.
So yeah, these people saying don't assume can absolutely kiss my shiny white queer ass
exactly exactlyyyy
you put it in waaaay better words than i did cj
it's so hard to explain to those that don't get it. but then i think, asher, what bother?
the girls that get it get it
