the critically acclaimed open post

[appliances]

assorted shitty people

☆ @ the muselist

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FILTHY THINGS: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I won't rp: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

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[gentlyfell]

I will not.

[He sounds disgusted in his whining. Don't make him be nice? He shifts again, half flopping over Aziraphale, all long limbs and semi-petulant expression.]

Fear's the only way to get them to grow properly. They get lazy if you're nice to them.

[Was there an incident in which Aziraphale gifted him a plant and he was kind to it because he felt bad about menacing it? Yes. Did it grow lazily and shoddily? Also yes.]

And who among us raised plants, was it you, oh, no, it wasn't, was it?

[oldsofa]

[Sweetheart, please... Aziraphale strokes his hair, utterly convinced that Crowley is sweet and gentle somewhere in there and taking no objections.

Ah, but--]

I suppose my track record with plant management is not, er... without flaw, historically speaking. [Like, in a purely Biblical sense. That's not the point!!] But still, don't be such a spoilsport.

[Like, melting all over him and whining. Let him cuddle without fidgeting, you actual child.]

What are you doing, Crowley?

[gentlyfell]

Getting comfortable.

[Flopping around, anyway. He shifts again, half because Aziraphale pointed it out and half because it's a simple joy just to be able to do it. Perhaps he'll lie atop him, or tuck his face beneath his chin, or squirm and rock his hips just to say he did.]

Not without flaw, is that really what you're going to call it? When have you once kept a plant alive for more than a month?

[oldsofa]

Ah, [Aziraphale says, in the exact tone of someone who says "ah" and means "you're being just a little bit ridiculous, and I love you anyway" and who has been around his ridiculous, wriggling serpent long enough to leave it at that. Ah.]

There have been some plants that have unfortunately expired, yes, alright. I— could keep a plant if I wanted to. [No, he couldn't; he'd get absorbed in new books and old books and going out for a quick bite and suddenly a month's passed and he has to miracle life back into his poor fern but he still knows, deep down, that he forgot all about it yet again. He could keep a plastic plant, maybe.]

If you're going to threaten the garden, I'm going to pick the drapes.

[gentlyfell]

You can try, anyway, I'll give you that.

[He squirms again-- and all right, even he knows he's being irritating at this point, but it's hard to stay still. The moment he does, his mind focuses in on what's to come, equal parts gutting anticipation and helpless anger. It's pointless and utterly distracting, and he huffs a sharp sigh, finally sitting up properly.]

Come here.

[Because he's going to fuss with Aziraphale's wings now, that's as good a distracting technique as any. Besides: they've been bothering him for a bit now. Love yourself, angel, groom your damn wings.]

[oldsofa]

[He will have delightfully out of date curtains and Crowley will like them, rest assured. It's happening. Aziraphale hums and pushes himself up to sitting, looking at Crowley expectantly.]

So?

[What's up, what's happening. He will gladly play along with more or less anything to assuage Crowley's inevitable panic attack about The Future.]

[gentlyfell]

[The thing is, it's not as though their wings ever go away. They don't cease to exist just because the humans don't see them. They're there, just sort of . . . elsewhere, all at once. He can see the faint outline of them if he focuses, light glinting off them, like spotting dust motes in the sun.]

Hold still.

[It's easy to slip his fingers into that other place, just enough that he can run them through the first set of feathers, tossing away the loose ones.]

[oldsofa]

Oh, [He says, and immediately doesn't. He can't help it; it isn't as if his wings are touched often, or really at all. So it's only natural to fidget, but at least he leans toward Crowley instead of away.

But he isn't holding still, so, sorry dear. Now listen, prissy boy with pretty wings...]

They aren't that bad.

[gentlyfell]

[He scoffs softly.]

When was the last time you groomed them?

[Because it's not filthy, but at the same, come on, babe, you can do better than this. He moves with Aziraphale's twitching, his fingers moving slowly and methodically.]

[oldsofa]

[Think about this, Crowley: it's possible to just enjoy this intimate little moment without making Aziraphale mumble out a few embarrassing sounds about his wing grooming, or lack thereof. It's so possible.]

Oh, well, you know how it is... Things keep popping up at the most inconvenient times. I had meant to, and then it rather got away from me.

[gentlyfell]

[Maybe sometime over the next six thousand years, he'll learn how to let an intimate moment just exist. As it stands, he's new at this, babe.

Still: he can take a hint.]

Good thing you've me now, then, isn't it?

[He scoots in a little closer, his fingers slower as they work through his wings. It's less to tug loose feathers and more just to slide his fingers against his wings, stroking just because he can now. Six thousand years, and he's thought of this before, idle little wishes that were promptly ignored.]