TheWriterChaotic



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  1. Dragon Age II (1)

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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Summary

    Said I, a few weeks ago: "I feel there’s also room for e.g. bedsharing fic where the apocalypse has Not Happened and they’ve fallen into queerplatonic (or so they think) bedsharing and Crowley thinks he’s alone in being driven slowly to distraction by it, so he says nothing. Then one night he wakes when it’s still dark, and at first he doesn’t know why, until he hears Aziraphale’s breathing a little raspier than usual, and feels the very slight trembling of the bed."

    And lo, that is exactly what this is.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,204
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    190
    Kudos:
    922
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    165
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    13 Aug 2019

  2. Rec *

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    Aziraphale sat up slowly and took Crowley’s hand. He turned it over, looked at the light coming from his wrist and arm from every angle. Then he brought it to his lips and kissed Crowley’s palm.

    “This is what you meant,” he said, lips still against Crowley’s skin. “In 1832. You meant it literally. You glow.”

    “You glow,” Crowley said. “You burn. You just sometimes also burn through me. It’s a reaction, I think. Because your holiness doesn’t belong in me.”

    “Dearest,” Aziraphale said. “Heat cannot start a fire if there is nothing to burn.”

    (Or, the one where Crowley is drawn to Aziraphale's holy flame like a moth ready to catch fire.)

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    35,676
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    123
    Kudos:
    390
    Bookmarks:
    139
    Hits:
    3526

    29 Jul 2019

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “On the matter of touch,” Crowley begins, waving his teaspoon in what he hopes passes for idle curiosity. “Thoughts?”

    ---

    For two ineffable husbands, they don't really touch each other much. Here is a story on why that might be.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    9,030
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    302
    Kudos:
    2337
    Bookmarks:
    527
    Hits:
    13204

    13 Jul 2019

  4. Rec *

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    As their lunch stretches on Aziraphale slowly comes to realize that Crowley is—enjoying him. Enjoying Aziraphale’s conversation, and company, far more openly than he has in most of Aziraphale’s memory. And Aziraphale knows that he himself is just chattering on, letting conversational tangents carry him along, and—it’s definitely relief, for him, knowing for the first time in a long time that they aren’t being watched, that no one is keeping score for now.

    -
    Aziraphale realizes that Crowley's been saying something rather loudly for a week.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,661
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    414
    Kudos:
    14831
    Bookmarks:
    2588
    Hits:
    72640

    19 Jun 2019

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    07/2019

    If you are just getting into the fanfiction for this universe and you want an example of what can be expected, look no further than this little story. It's like a concentration of all of the things one wants when delving into the Good Omens fandom.

    The characters are on point, and there are dozens of emotions: it's tender, sweet, funny, sad, wholesome, sensual, etc. I nearly want to call it perfect.

    The best part is that it's not overwhelming, despite being so much. It is exactly what you need.

    13/10 It honestly broke my system.

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives.
    ---
    Why? Aziraphale wanted to ask him, why millennia of the way things were, and now this?

    But while Crowley seemed to have little issue upending every unspoken rule they’d ever written for themselves, Aziraphale was not so flexible, and they had spent thousands of years never quite addressing whatever it was this had stemmed from. Words, Aziraphale had always felt, were for bickering about where to eat for lunch, or hashing out ontological debates, or other trivial nonsense; there was no need to trifle with the imprecision of language, with phrasing and the possibility of being misconstrued, when it came to important matters if the other person simply understood, without needing it said. Six thousand years ago, when Aziraphale had met Crowley on the wall of Eden, watching the first two humans set out to begin the rest of history, something deep within him, more central even than his Grace, had thought, oh, it’s you, and that had been enough for him--for both of them, he assumed--for three millennia.

    However much he wanted to ask, he didn’t know how. The words simply weren’t there.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    14,243
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    533
    Kudos:
    7174
    Bookmarks:
    2258
    Hits:
    49598

    15 Jun 2019