Walking back to his flat in the late night almost-silence while shoving fries down his gullet is a lovely respite from the sensory onslaught and staggering migraine he experienced earlier. The dark mutes all the details around him and his solitude feels more intentional. Wrong, but more intentional. It’s like the missing furniture. There’s a space in Crowley’s life where someone should be, but it’s empty. Maybe, wherever they went, they took Crowley with them. Maybe they left this empty, ravaged shell behind. #fanfiction #good_omens #aziraphale/crowley

Prompt: Basically just give me poor snek boy having a hard time and ideally Aziraphale looking after him. hurt/comfort extermely wanted but honestly? If you just wanna make Crowley suffer then have at it! Summary: Aziraphale is in love with Crowley. He can't express it, so instead to quietly tends to Crowley's various serpentine needs without his knowledge instead. Excerpt: Aziraphale had never intended to become a casual herpetologist, it had just happened over the centuries. Crowley was such a needy snake, regardless of the fact that he would never admit to it. He required a rather strict feeding schedule which took ages to acclimate too, and then there was acclimation itself. Aziraphale had spent so much time arranging his bookshop: the sunny space by the window was precisely ninety degrees in full sun but eighty-five without, whereas his reading room was maintained at a cool and comfortable seventy-five degrees. #fanfiction #good_omens #aziraphale/crowley

‘Fell?’ the man asks. ‘Doesn’t suit you.’ #fanfiction #good_omens #aziraphale/crowley

"Are you working for Mrs. Sandwich?" Nina asks. "No," Crowley says. "Well, yes. Well, define 'working'." -- Or, Crowley is very good at faking sex work, as it turns out. #fanfiction #good_omens #aziraphale/crowley