a huge shoutout to everyone that writes fanfics. i wouldn’t be up crying at 3 am without you
I, too, am up at 3am crying as I write
a huge shoutout to everyone that writes fanfics. i wouldn’t be up crying at 3 am without you
I, too, am up at 3am crying as I write
Lights stuck to the urban areas of the city, dotting old streets with modern, electrical lights that never seemed quite so daring to dip into the dark waters of the Thames. Stone mixed with brick mixed with concrete, centuries sculpted with the continuation of human survival.
Minutes stretched on in the early mornings, turning three am into two hours, three hours, as the seconds ticked down to the sunrise.
Tomorrow, Crowley knew, they would leave London far behind. He breathed in; let the smell of construction and dirty river water settle in his lungs. Beside him, Aziraphale had wound their fingers into some knitted thing that had no name—but if it did it probably sounded something like ‘love’—and pressed their shoulders together. His sigh misted in the shadows, was whisked away by the fog already rolling in.
Some part of Crowley wondered what their lives would have been like if they had met in the late hours of the evening instead of under the watchful eyes of the sun. What all those discussions would have consisted of if the night softened their edges and brush shadows across their forms.
Another part of him already knew—the tender smile traded in the rubble of a church, a thermos handed over while the lights embroidered red and gold through the lines of their faces.
Aziraphale hummed, head tilted back, looking up at the patchwork of stars above them. London lights ignited the clouds, painted them in ocean blues and purples and greens. Lights across the river glinted in his eyes, reflected like a smaller, kinder sky.
Leaning down, Crowley pressed his lips just beneath where blonde hair started to curl over an ear. Aziraphale smelled of leather and old paper. Of candle wax and tea.
“And what was that for?” Aziraphale said, voice tender, mixing with the subtle distant rumble of the river below. Tension from the day had long been shed; dropping away like seeds from a subtly torn bag. It made him so achingly soft.
Crowley wanted to force his snake shaped mouth to speak the words that were rooted in his ribcage. They had blossomed long ago; watered by oysters and laughter and an apocalypse that never was.
They unfurled their petals, colored in shades of I have never been lost in something like I’ve been lost in you, with stems braided into you owe me so many restless nights where I thought about us, brushing against his beating heart with a semblance of even waiting for you was a form of freedom.
Instead, Crowley grins and looks out over the city they’ll be leaving behind.
“No reason.”
nnngggg s o f t
I wanted to draw more Good Omens but I also wanted to draw Pokemon, so I made the obvious choice.
Please credit if you repost!
Cute Moments || She-Ra 03x01 “The Price of Power”
Some of my favorite expressions from Episode 1 of Season 3, to cure the angst
Way better. I was looking at them at Target and the default face just is not good.
No.... no hems? Eek. Is she at least a chonky beauty?