#human friends

[guardianoftheotherside]

*durning paint class *

Strife:*high* Wow. This stuff is amazing! What is it?

Human1:…

Human2:…

Y/N: Strife… That’s paint

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Hey Sun, Moon, have y'all ever been friends with a human? What was it like?

also I made cookies 🍪 :]

*Takes cookie, splits it and gives-*

Here boys, let this take your mind off...other things for now.

They've met many humans over the years...but only two meant the most to them.

[suncrayon]

the human friends mean the fucking world to me

[sailormoonsub]

best friends? that's cute, I like it

best friends in the WHOLE WORLD? that honestly just makes me sad

[atlontour]

source.

[ruubesz-draws]

Ok but what if, when Godzilla's kids are older, they get crushes on humans?

UUUuuuuuhhhh... Highly unlikely... Friends? Sure, but no crushes. They have standards lol

[aziraphales-library]

ooo i have a fic rec! "cause love's such an old-fashioned word" by doctortwelfth on ao3 is one of the best crowley-centric fics i've read in a long time. it features a crowley/freddie friendship and ineffable husband undertones, it's a very unique take on the situation. i love how it integrates real life events and the friendship is so well characterized~

Sure thing, dear!

'cause love's such an old-fashioned word by doctortwelfth

The man in question laughs, as if he’s telling a funny joke, when in fact Crowley is deadly serious—he’d slept quite a few years after the Holy Water Debacle of 1967, as he likes to term it in his head, and has recently, upon waking, taken to steering the Bentley left instead of right on the last turn to Aziraphale’s Soho bookshop whenever he has the urge to drop by for a visit.

This has the rather unfortunate consequence of making him a regular at this tiny seedy establishment a block away from where he really wants to be, but really, it is a justifiable action if you think about it—seedy nightclubs are the best place for a little bit of regular temptation, after all. Just enough to get his supervisors off his back, and then he’d start turning left on the intersection again.

Nothing to do with how he felt stripped raw and bloody whenever he relieved that night in the Bentley; Aziraphale’s fingers warm on his in the glow from the neon streetlights, the aching gentleness with which he’d turned Crowley down. You go too fast for me, Crowley.

~Mod P