Mar 10, 2025
My full piece for the Good Omens romcom zine @goromcomzine, Good Old-Fashioned Lovers. I reproduced a scene from one of my favourite movies, Black Cat White Cat 1998 with Crowley and Aziraphale.
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My full piece for the Good Omens romcom zine @goromcomzine, Good Old-Fashioned Lovers. I reproduced a scene from one of my favourite movies, Black Cat White Cat 1998 with Crowley and Aziraphale.
The Mug
Aziraphale had a ridiculous number of cups. Not because he liked them, not exactly.
It wasn't an obsession or anything... there was just something about cups.
He loved drinking tea and hot chocolate, and he seemed to have made it his mission to find the right cup for every hot beverage.
Now, although he was quite happy with his tea cups, he seemed to struggle to find a satisfactory cup for hot chocolate.
Crowley didn't understand it.
"Give it a rest, they are cups! One is just as good as the other." He would say.
"The right cup for the right drink contributes to the right level of comfort!" Aziraphale would argue.
Crowley would roll his eyes and change the subject.
He just didn't get it.
One winter's day in the early 1990s, Crowley was walking through the streets of London, thinking about what his next demonic act was going to be (a new kind of little sauce packets that wouldn't open properly seemed like a good idea), when something in the window of a small shop in Covent Garden caught his eye.
He stopped, considering for a few moments, then walked in.
When he went to the bookshop that evening, he deftly and nonchalantly snuck into the back room and made a small addition to the angel's collection of cups.
Aziraphale didn't notice; he retrieved his coat and they went out for a lovely dinner at the Ritz.
It was only a couple of days later that the angel noticed the new item on his shelf. It was a mug. An all-white mug with a handle in the shape of an angel's wings. Aziraphale stared at it for a few seconds, confused, flabbergasted. Where did it come from?
He picked it up and examined it carefully, then a soft smile appeared on his face.
There was only one explanation... Crowley.
The angel smiled more and held the mug closer to his chest, blushing a little, his eyes sparkling with joy.
That same night, Crowley went to the bookshop.
He was sprawled out on the sofa, lazily reading the entertainment section in the newspaper, when Aziraphale came out of the back room and sat down in his armchair, right in front of him. He was holding a steaming mug; not just any mug. It was The Mug.
The angel smiled to himself and took a sip, almost theatrically, letting out a soft but very deliberate moan of delight that immediately caught Crowley's attention.
The demon noticed the mug and stiffened for a moment, then went back to his usual nonchalance and looked back at the newspaper.
"New mug?" He asked, casually.
The smile on Aziraphale's face widened. He decided to play along.
"Yes... do you like it?"
Crowley flipped through the pages, continuing to act uninterested.
"I told you, angel... to me one is just as good as the other."
A pause, then the demon swallowed a little, suddenly looking slightly nervous.
"Do you... like it?" He asked, his eyes still fixed on the newspaper.
Aziraphale couldn't help but feel a warm feeling spreading through his chest.
"Yes..." he said. "I like it very much. In fact, I think it might be my favourite mug."
Crowley flipped through the pages.
"Good..." he said, his voice more feeble than he intended. He cleared his throat.
"Then hopefully I will never have to listen to your endless monologues about cups again." Continued the demon.
Aziraphale smiled affectionately.
"No... I guess you won't."
"Great."
Aziraphale just looked at him with infinite love, continuing to smile like a fool.
Crowley shot him a quick glance.
"What?" He said, forcing himself to sound annoyed.
Aziraphale smiled more.
"Thank you."
Crowley stiffened again and shifted a little on the sofa, looking uncomfortable.
"Ngk... just drink your stupid hot chocolate..."
Aziraphale chuckled lightly to himslef and took another sip.
Crowley, hidden behind the newspaper, allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
Sleep tight, my dear
The Ball went incredibly well, even better than Aziraphale expected; Nina and Maggie confessed their feelings for each other, everyone had a wonderful time, and – undoubtedly the best part of the whole evening – he had the chance to dance with Crowley.
Aziraphale smiled to himself as he moved his hands in the air to convince the chandelier to return to its place on the ceiling. He looked at the demon, who was patiently helping him tidy up the bookshop, and felt his cheeks heat up a little.
It had been amazing ; they had twirled in the middle of the room among the other guests, holding each other's hands... and God, how gentle Crowley's touch had been, so tenderly insecure and incredibly sweet at the same time. And Aziraphale loved every moment of it.
The angel smiled more at the memory, feeling his heart swell with joy and love.
Crowley snapped his fingers and the wooden bookcases spun around slowly, returning to their original position. He looked around and gave Aziraphale a satisfied look.
“There you go... all done.”
The angel smiled to him.
“Yes... thank you for your help, my dear.”
“It's okay, don’t mention it...” Said the demon, dropping onto the sofa and sprawling as he usually did.
Aziraphale looked at him and cleared his throat lightly.
“Would you like some tea?”
Crowley dropped his sunglasses on the coffee table and nodded.
“Sure, why not...”
The angel walked to the back of the bookshop and started making some tea.
“You know...” he began, loud enough for Crowley to hear him. “I am very proud of how the evening went... I think we did a great job.”
“Well...” the voice of the demon came from the other room. “I didn’t really do anything, it's all thanks to you, angel...”
“Oh, don't be so modest! You are the one who managed to convince Nina to come tonight.”
“Uhm, yes... I guess I did that bit.” said Crowley, his voice fading a little.
“In fact...” continued the angel. “It was such a successful evening that I am thinking of hosting these meetings regularly!”
“Mmh... sounds like a huge commitment...” commented Crowley, his voice getting strangely fainter by the second.
“I know, I know... but you must have seen how happy everyone was!”
“Mmh... ‘guess so...” was the only response coming from the other room.
“It could become some kind of... tradition!” The angel poured hot tea in two cups, beaming. “I’m sure that everyone would be delighted.”
He took the cups and walked back to the front.
“Don’t you think, my de-” He stopped, blinking a little.
Crowley had fallen asleep; his head was tilted slightly to one side and his arms were comfortably resting on his stomach. He was breathing slowly, calmly, and looked incredibly at peace.
Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile lovingly at the scene. He placed the cups of tea on the coffee table and stared at the demon for a few seconds, feeling a delicious warmth spreading through his chest.
Of course, he'd fallen asleep... he'd been sleeping in the Bentley ever since Hell had taken back the flat, and that couldn't be comfortable or restful, no matter how strongly he insisted otherwise.
Aziraphale had obviously invited him to move into the bookshop, countless times, but Crowley had always refused, claiming to be perfectly comfortable as he was and able to take care of himself.
Silly demon .
Aziraphale made a soft blanket appear and spread it carefully and lovingly over his thin body. Crowley immediately sighed in relax at the warm feeling and snuggled up more on the sofa, mumbling something incomprehensible.
The angel smiled to himself and moved a little closer.
“What is it, my dear?” He asked softly.
Crowley sighed in relax again.
“Mmmngk... ‘m... going back to t’ car...”
The angel looked amused.
“Of course...”
“Mmmh’not... not sleepin’...”
“No, you certainly aren't...”
“Mmmh... ‘m j’st... closin’ m’ eyes f’r a m’ment...”
Aziraphale smiled lovingly.
“Sure...” He raised a hand slowly and ran his fingers lightly through his hair. Crowley moaned softly at that.
“Just close your eyes for a moment... it’s all right...”
Crowley let out another faint moan and cuddled more under the blanket.
“T’nk you, ‘ngel...” He mumbled, before falling asleep completely.
Aziraphale smiled more to himself and leaned forward, laying a small, sweet kiss on his forehead.
“Sleep tight, my dear.”
And Crowley slept better than he had slept in a long, long time.
Please I can't-- I'm crying my fucking eyes out
My favourite part is when Aziraphale realises that the Metatron was trying to trick him and tells him to fuck off and that he'll never rob him of the wonderful life he and the love of his life have built together and then runs towards Crowley and throws himself into his arms and kisses him.
Ok, GUYS...
I don't go looking for angst but the fucking angst is haunting me and I need shoulders (plural) to cry on!
I came across this song by Frank Siatra last night, and I'm crying my fucking eyes out ç_ç
The World We Knew (Over And Over) - YouTube
I mean, listen to it!! And the fucking lyrics?!
Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew
Once when you walked beside me
That inconceivable, that unbelievable world we knew
When we two were in love
And every bright neon sign turned into stars
And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours
Each road that we took turned into gold
But the dream was too much for you to hold
Now over and over, I keep going over the world we knew
Days when you used to love me
Are you fucking kidding me?! ç_ç
Now I can't stop thinking about Crowley all alone on Earth, where everything reminds him of Aziraphale and the time they spent together there over the millennia and all the things they did and shared and I want to eat fucking gravel!
HELP ç_ç
Trust me
It was a cold but beautiful winter's night.
Aziraphale and Crowley walked to the bookshop. It was the first time the angel had taken him there.
He pointed at the building and smiled to Crowley.
“There it is!”
Crowley looked up and nodded.
“Nice...”
They reached the entrance, and the angel opened the door, smiling.
He walked in and took off his coat, then looked back at Crowley and stopped, frowning a little.
The demon was still standing outside the open door, motionless.
“What’s wrong, my dear?” Asked the angel.
Crowley hesitated for a moment, then swallowed hard and lowered his gaze a little.
“I... I can’t, uhm... I...” He trailed off.
It took Aziraphale a few seconds to understand what the problem was, and when he did, he felt a little embarrassed.
Of course he couldn’t come in... he had not been invited to do so.
“Oh, I’m so sorry my dear. Please, come in!” The angel said, with a sweet smile.
However, Crowley didn’t move. He seemed very tense and kept looking at the threshold with a nervous expression on his face.
Aziraphale felt his heart tighten in his chest. He walked back to the open door and smiled softly.
“It’s all right...”
He held out his hand. Crowley looked at it but didn’t take it, swallowing again.
“It’s all right...” Repeated Aziraphale, in the gentlest voice possible. “You are welcome here. You can enter this bookshop whenever you want, and nothing bad will ever happen to you, I promise...”
He took another step towards Crowley and kept his hand out to him, right across the threshold.
“Trust me...”
Crowley stiffened a little at that, then he hesitantly raised his own hand and took Aziraphale’s.
The angel smiled more and tightened lightly his grip around his hand, pulling him gently inside, slowly.
When Crowley finally crossed the threshold, he tensed up and stopped breathing for a moment.
It took him a few seconds to realise that he had not been discorporated.
He let out a shaky breath and looked up at Aziraphale.
“You see?” Said the angel. “All good...”
Crowley nodded slightly.
“Yes, well... you said trust me...”
Aziraphale’s smile softened, if possible, even more.
“And you did...”
For a moment, Crowley seemed to blush. If Aziraphale noticed, he didn’t show it.
He let go of his hand.
“Would you like a cup of tea, my dear?”
Crowley nodded again.
“Yes, uhm... sure... thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Smiled the angel. “Make yourself comfortable.”
And Crowley did.
Not Jealous
“What the Heaven is that?” Asked Crowley, staring coldly at the table in front of him.
Aziraphale, busy in making some tea, turned to look at him and followed his gaze to understand what he was talking about.
“Oh!” He smiled. In the middle of the table was a small potted Powder Puff Cactus.
“A customer gave it to me, as a present!” The angel reached his friend and handed him a cup of tea. Crowley took it with a lack of interest, frowning at him.
“Customer? What customer? You hardly have any customers, and when you do you are awful to them, why would a customer give you a present?”
“I’m not awful to them! I just... politely persuade them to leave if they show too much interest in my books! Anyway, she’s an old lady who lives around here. She comes by every now and then, you know, to say hello and talk about books.”
“Why? Doesn’t she have anything better to do than come here, say hello and bring you stupid gifts?”
Aziraphale gave him a curious look.
“Are you jealous because someone is nice to me?”
Crowley froze; a mix of horror, shock and embarrassment washed over him, resulting in a rather comic expression on his face.
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Aziraphale did his best to hide a smile. He took his own cup of tea and sat at the table.
“Anyway, she came here yesterday evening and brought it to me.” He said.
“Isn’t it cute?”
“Don’t say that!” Crowley gave him a serious look. The angel blinked in confusion.
“Why not?”
“It will never grow up properly if you spoil it like that!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Plants need discipline! You have to show them who is in charge.”
Aziraphale sighed deeply.
“For God’s Sake, Crowley! It’s just a little cactus, leave it be!”
“You can’t be nice to it.”
“I’m always nice, I’m a being of love!”
“Yeah, well... you should keep you love at bay a bit more.”
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.
“You never complain when I show my love to you.”
Crowley stiffened a bit under his gaze.
“Yeah, but... I've earned it!” He said, nervously.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah! By being your friend for more than 6000 years! What did it do?”
Aziraphale smiled to him.
“Are you jealous of the cactus, now?”
Crowley looked at him with outraged expression.
“Stop saying that! I’m not jealous! Why would I be jealous?!”
The angel just smiled more at his reaction.
“Just sit down and drink your tea, would you?” He said sweetly.
Crowley hesitated for a moment, then sat sprawled on the chair next to him and took a sip from his cup, staring threateningly at the little cactus. After a few moments, the Powder Puff began to tremble.
Aziraphale blinked at that and then turned to look at Crowley with a reproachful air.
“Really?” He just said.
The demon snorted and looked away. The cactus stopped trembling.
Aziraphale shook his head and chuckled silently to himself.
“You are ridiculous...”
“Shut up.”
Aziraphale chuckled more.