ohhamlet
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He was a teacup that could be dropped. He knew it because he'd been dropped before. He was a teacup that had been mended over and over.
Bookmarked by ohhamlet
15 Dec 2023
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"I just want-- I want a night in. At home. With quiet company. While my ankle is all swollen like this. I want a pajama party."
The Doctor heard "quiet company" and knew he could provide that. And possible he'd take the opportunity to do something sneaky and helpful with her ankle. He clapped his hands together. "Right! A pajama party you shall have."
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Bookmarked by ohhamlet
09 Dec 2023
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affection and other cravings by JustStandingHere
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
24 Sep 2023
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“But you admit it! You did tempt me!”
“I offered you warm food during a storm,” Crowley argues. “If you call that temptation, I’d hate to see you talk to an innkeeper.” Aziraphale scowls some more. Crowley shrugs. “Besides, no harm done. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
He has Aziraphale there. “Still,” he says, spreading his hands wide. “It has to be said—” He glances up to the sky. “—for anyone listening, that I am not at fault for my appetite.”
“Never said you were,” Crowley says. “Just said you liked the oysters.”
or, an examination vis-à-vis food and forgiveness
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Bookmarked by ohhamlet
02 Nov 2023
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how beautiful your soul is (and your hands) by drunkonwriting
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
09 Feb 2020
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Aziraphale slowly looks from the knife to Crowley’s face. “Holy water.” His voice sounds distant and strange, as if he’s hearing it from outside of himself. “The knife. It’s coated in holy water.”
Crowley’s smile is thin and bitter. “Yes,” he says.
In the aftermath of the Apocalypse, Crowley is just trying to find his feet after losing his day job. Unfortunately for him, not every demon was convinced by Aziraphale’s little show during their Trials—and that disbelief proves to be deadly. Aziraphale just wants to read books and revel in a life of freedom. But when Crowley’s hurt, all of his efforts become a race against time to heal him before it’s too late.
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- English
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Bookmarked by ohhamlet
29 Oct 2023
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“You’re staring.”
“Oh dear,” says Aziraphale, completely unapologetic. “How rude of me.”
Crowley begins to smile something slow, bright, and lovely, but he schools it with a bite to his lower lip. Aziraphale thinks of the way he looked two millennia ago, pressed up against the wall with Aziraphale's blessing healing his wounds, the only demon to experience divine ecstasy and live to tell the tale. How Aziraphale's hands itch to do it again, and again, and again. Crowley opens his mouth as if to say something, but then stops and spins around instead to go back to stirring the curry.
“Shut up,” he says to the stove, flustered.
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Bookmarked by ohhamlet
03 Aug 2023