∞And I would like to spend...∞

Thank you @gaiaseyes451 for the tag!

Rules: post the first sentence of your most recent 10 fan fics and tag up to 10 people.

Newest to Oldest:

The ophthalmologist’s waiting room smelled of hand sanitiser and anxiety. Every Colour Of You

The letter arrived on a Tuesday in early October. Jasmine Cottage

The light at dawn was different in Brighton. Etched in Aquatint

"We're bored," Crowley announced over breakfast. In the Margins: The Bookshop

(This is a series. I'll skip to the next stand-alone story)

Aziraphale had been at Upstairs Advertising for approximately eleven minutes when he realized he'd made a terrible mistake. Life's a Pitch

The address was in Soho, which should have been Crowley's first warning. The Things You Keep

Anthony Crowley had perfected the art of counting. An Architecture of Feelings

The October fog at the London Docks smelled of salt and coal, undercut by something fouler – dead fish, tar, the pervasive rot that always clung to the Thames. Second Circle

Aziraphale sat on the wall,feet dangling, wings tucked awkwardly around his body. Love, Plain and Simple

The first thing he noticed was the humming. I REALLY FUCKING LOVE YOU

Rules: post the first sentence of your most recent 10 fan fics and tag up to 10 people. I was tagged by @thisisshiny @di-42 @curiouspupsicle @watsonsstressball, thank you!

Maid of Honour

Another Bloody Halloween party.

Olaf the Schnauzer (Collab)

Crowley didn’t normally answer calls from random numbers.

The Trouble with HELL

@serpentofEden🐍 wrote: Poirot is such a brilliant character. You can’t exactly like him, but he draws you in. He’s at his best when his ego is left to run wild, especially when he is surrounded by such a great mix of supporting characters 😈

If you’ve got to goat, then goat with style

Anthony and Aziraphale Crowley-Eastgate are proud to introduce: The Second Coming - A true crime podcast (with saucy intermissions)

Don’t Ride or Die

“All things considered, this isn’t the worst that could have happened to us,” surmised Aziraphale.

The Grass is Always Greener

Nothing made Mr Brown happier than the start of the Christmas season.

Runaway Groom

It was a nice day. All the last days had been nice.

The Tadfield Holiday

When Aziraphale Eastgate had woken up that day, he couldn’t have possibly imagined how bad it would turn out to be.

Rules: post the first sentence of your most recent 10 fan fics and tag up to 10 people. I was tagged by @quitequaintrelle, @curiouspupsicle, @thisisshiny, @watsonsstressball, @di-42. Thank you 💜💜💜

…whilst We cannot forbid you from bringing further shame upon the peerage, as proved by Our previous appeals having shamefully fallen upon deaf ears, We can certainly take the appropriate measures to prevent you from doing so… (from An Offer from a Rake)

“Why is it taking her so long?” Crowley grumbled for the fifth time from where he was slouching on the bench right outside the only car rental in the village, sunglasses trained on the offendingly blue sky. (from The Longest Kiss)

“Here I am. You can call off the hounds.” (from If Love is the Law)

“Pepper’s a good kid,” Mr Crowley was saying in that insufferably dismissive attitude of his. (from Model Parenting)

At the cost of sounding a little too dramatic, Aziraphale thought, finding his favourite stool blessedly free at the Dirty Donkey was the first good thing to happen to him that night. (from Made in Hell: Matchmaking Agency)

Crowley is busy terrorising the tomatoes in the garden – horribly stubborn fellows, tomatoes, definitely shouldn’t be as popular as they are – when he hears the front door open. (from The Social Importance of Football)

Aziraphale is making himself comfortable on the lumpy sofa tucked in a corner of the empty dressing room, an unexpected sanctuary he stumbled upon in his wanderings around the studios, when the door slams open, making him start. (from On This Bumpy Road to Love)

Anthony J. Crowley regretted many things in his life. (from Growing on Me)

If push came to shove, Aziraphale would have (possibly) admitted that driving from Oxfordshire to London on a whim, and in a vintage car no less, wasn’t exactly the best idea he could have come up with. (from Take a Little Love From Me)

There is smoke everywhere. (from When Hell Freezes Over)

Rules: post the first sentence of your most recent 10 fan fics and tag up to 10 people. I was tagged by @quitequaintrelle , thank you! Find their answers here!

1. Aziraphale looked wistfully at the ring in its little velvet box: a simple, elegant tungsten band. (From Rovaniemi Calling, rated M. Currently a WIP but the last chapter is already in the draft.)

2. “Such a fine night for stargazing, don't you agree, my love?” (From Transcendental, rated T, 3k.).

3. It was… wet. (From The Bookshop At The End Of The Universe, rated T, 2k.)

4. The evening was getting chilly. (From For Old Times' Sake, rated T, 4k.)

5. There he goes. There he goes again. (From The Solstice Dinner, rated E, 42k.)

6. As Crowley walked the short distance from the train station to his flat, his mind was rambling with possible excuses to knock on Aziraphale’s door. (From Just A Neighbour I Know, rated T, 14k.)

7. Hello dear readers, and welcome to the first issue of Ineffable Advice, our brand new advice column. (From Ineffable Advice, rated G, 1.3k.)

8. Aziraphale closed his notebook and looked up, glass of wine in his hand. (From On A Date With Tom, rated T, 7k.)

9. Aziraphale took a sip of his tea and put it down on the table, next to the cup containing 3 double espressos. (From Never Gonna Fall For, rated T, 8k.)

10. Aziraphale was sipping his sherry while scanning the crowd spread on the dimly lit dance floor of the bar, when a man approached him. (From Play By The Rules, rated E, 3k.)

Thank you @carry-the-sky and @gaiaseyes451 for tagging me to post the first sentences of my most recent 10 fics and to tag 10 other writers. I always wish my first sentences were better, so let's see how they look, all in one place. “Welcome back to Love is in the Air (or, in the case of our next guests, in the water). - The Serpent and the Dove

"Anthony fidgeted with his hair in front of the mirror." - Echoes of Love

"Although many wouldn’t think a trip to the library was much of an adventure, Aziraphale Eastgate most certainly did, especially when the library in question was the magnificent Bodleian of Oxford." - No Longer on Opposite Sides

"What was this?" - Unspoken Love

"“Of course, I’d rather stay home and reread Remains of the Day than make small talk with strangers until a clock chimes." - 5 Minute Dates

"Fuck! That smell! It’s like swallowing death." - The Cure for Anything is Salt Water (sweat, tears, or the sea)

"Maggie called out with a wave to the old-fashioned gentleman locking the doors to his bookshop." - Definitely Not My Type

“I had no idea it would be so messy. I’ll never get these sheets clean.” - Sex Across the Multiverse

"The echoing silence of heaven roared in his ears." - On a Mission From God

"Her steps confident, her smile less so, the young woman reached the podium at the centre of the makeshift stage." - Lessons I've Learned About Love Bonus from my upcoming fic, Walking Dogs After Midnight - “Aren’t you a handsome devil!” Aziraphale purred seductively. “You look so striking in your black coat.” As I suspected, my first paragraphs are stronger than my first sentences. Apparently, I need some time to get started, like rolling a bicycle down hill.

rules: post the first sentence of your most recent 10 fan fics and tag up to 10 people.

Thank you for the tag @gaiaseyes451 !

In order of newest to oldest:

"Crowley slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chair and listened to his new classmates complain." (from Driven to Distraction)

“‘We here at Eden Space Centre would like to extend a warm welcome to our guests today— those of you who came in person as well as those who are dialled in from around the globe,’ said a tall, brown-haired man from the lectern of the auditorium.” (from When Our Feet No Longer Touch The Earth (8/27 WIP))

“Anthony Crowley hated his job.” (from If Only They Could See Us Now)

"The sofa in the bookshop's back room creaked as Crowley repositioned himself for better access to Aziraphale's scent gland." (from In Their Parents' Eyes)

"22 February 4003. Dear Diary, I never fancied myself much of a traveller before, but I felt at home almost as soon as I had unpacked and settled myself into my stateroom aboard the Celestial Harmony." (from Cosmic Entanglements)

"'How long is it going to storm, Papa?' asked the small raven-haired pup as she looked apprehensively out the window." (from The Nature of Existence)

"Crowley swept back his long, scarlet hair and put his headset back on." (from The S.N.O.W. Line)

"Anthony Crowley was beyond frustrated." (from Counterpoints)

"The warm light of the late afternoon sun poured in through the windows of the cosy bookshop like honey, and the tranquil strains of Camille Saint-Saëns' Le cygne drifted through the air from the antique record player next to the old-fashioned escritoire." (from (Nearly) Human Resources)

"'Hey, Hastur,' Ligur said. 'I met a guy we can play wif, y'know?'" (from Hate Was Never So Satisfying)

Thank you @gaiaseyes451 for the tag!

Rules: post the first sentence of your most recent 10 fan fics and tag up to 10 people.

Newest to Oldest:

The ophthalmologist’s waiting room smelled of hand sanitiser and anxiety. Every Colour Of You

The letter arrived on a Tuesday in early October. Jasmine Cottage

The light at dawn was different in Brighton. Etched in Aquatint

"We're bored," Crowley announced over breakfast. In the Margins: The Bookshop

(This is a series. I'll skip to the next stand-alone story)

Aziraphale had been at Upstairs Advertising for approximately eleven minutes when he realized he'd made a terrible mistake. Life's a Pitch

The address was in Soho, which should have been Crowley's first warning. The Things You Keep

Anthony Crowley had perfected the art of counting. An Architecture of Feelings

The October fog at the London Docks smelled of salt and coal, undercut by something fouler – dead fish, tar, the pervasive rot that always clung to the Thames. Second Circle

Aziraphale sat on the wall,feet dangling, wings tucked awkwardly around his body. Love, Plain and Simple

The first thing he noticed was the humming. I REALLY FUCKING LOVE YOU

Do you recognize this fic from my description of a beautifully depicted Crowley?

Answer below the fold.

Aziraphale meets a very perceptive acquaintance… and has an epiphany.

Chapter Nine

Just one chapter today again, because Aziraphale deserves an epiphany chapter all to himself.

Next week, though, comes the long-awaited conclusion to this gloriously glacial slow burn. I promise. 😊

If you haven't started the story yet, now is the perfect moment:

Every Colour Of You

Aziraphale sees sound, words and feelings as colours. Crowley sees the world without colour at all – only shades of grey, light, shadow and texture.

When they meet, they begin to show each other how the world looks from their side.

🪶 A GO Regency AU - Rated E - for @addledmongoose via @fandomtrumpshate

🪞 Chapter 4 of 11 - “The Situation” (8.2k)

🎩 Completely written (around 80k in total) | Updates every Wednesday | Fake/Pretend Relationship | There Was Only One Bed

💜 Beta: the one and only @beerok23

1811. Returned to London after the death of his father, infamous rake Anthony ‘Crowley’, Duke of Morningstar, has three months to restore his tattered reputation and secure himself a proper match, on pain of having his title stripped from him. Enter the irreproachable Lord Aziraphale, newly minted Viscount Eastgate, who would very much like to discourage his many suitors from lining outside his door in Mayfair so he can go back to enjoying his peaceful existence on the shelf. After a chance meeting at a gentlemen’s club, it appears the two may lend each other a helping hand after all. While a fake engagement will not solve their problems once and for all, it should buy them enough time to put their respective affairs in order. If only the ultimate goal of their Arrangement would remain as clear and unchanging as it should…

Chapter 4 Summary:

Unfamiliar feelings require to be immediately dealt with and time flies by, as it tends to do when one’s having fun.

🪞Read it here on AO3 🪞

🪶Or Start From The Beginning 🪶

Excerpt from Chapter 4 - “The Situation”:

He observed him for a second, waiting for him to drop the act. When it became clear that the duke would do nothing of the sort, Aziraphale straightened against the bench and clasped his hands even tighter. “As I said, I am not interested in any diversion you might have to offer to kill the time,” he said as firmly as he could, to Crowley as much as himself. “Might I also remind you we are in this predicament because of you?” Crowley’s smile grew sharper and, after a second that seemed to stretch for far too long, he pulled back the knee that was pressing against Aziraphale. Who, in a fit of true madness, instead of heaving out a sigh of relief made the grievous mistake of chasing it with his own until they were touching again. A little hum of displeasure escaped Aziraphale’s lips as he threw a reproachful glance at his traitorous knee, which had clearly acted on its own accord and with no input from his brain whatsoever.  “Would you look at that,” Crowley said, voice like silk and velvet in the heated air of the carriage. “Your body seems to be leading a mutiny against you.” “That is just one body part,” Aziraphale rushed to say with all the petulance he could muster. “Hardly indicative of how the others might feel on the matter.” He interlaced his own fingers together in the hopes of soothing himself and, in doing so, remembered he was wearing Crowley’s snake ring. He looked down at the thing, the tiny ruby eyes sparkling in the light coming from only God knew where. The more he stared at the little white gold creature, the more the warmth brewing around them started to seep under Aziraphale’s skin, amplifying the tingle slowly but surely spreading all over him. “We could ask the others,” Crowley suggested, lazily returning the press of Aziraphale’s knee with his own. “Body parts, I mean. See what they have to say.” “No,” Aziraphale blurted out, cringing at how frazzled he had sounded even to his own ears.

Crowley makes a playlist.

Aziraphale makes it visible.

Chapter Eight

Only one chapter today, because it's a lot. Good lot, hopefully. It's my favourite chapter.

If you haven't started the story yet, here's a short description:

Every Colour Of You

Aziraphale sees sound, words and feelings as colours. Crowley sees the world without colour at all – only shades of grey, light, shadow and texture.

When they meet, they begin to show each other how the world looks from their side.

🪶 A GO Regency AU - Rated E - for @addledmongoose via @fandomtrumpshate

🪞 Chapter 3 of 11 - “The Waltz” (8.8k)

🎩 Completely written (around 80k in total) | Updates every Wednesday | Fake/Pretend Relationship | There Was Only One Bed

💜 Beta: the one and only @beerok23

1811. Returned to London after the death of his father, infamous rake Anthony ‘Crowley’, Duke of Morningstar, has three months to restore his tattered reputation and secure himself a proper match, on pain of having his title stripped from him. Enter the irreproachable Lord Aziraphale, newly minted Viscount Eastgate, who would very much like to discourage his many suitors from lining outside his door in Mayfair so he can go back to enjoying his peaceful existence on the shelf. After a chance meeting at a gentlemen’s club, it appears the two may lend each other a helping hand after all. While a fake engagement will not solve their problems once and for all, it should buy them enough time to put their respective affairs in order. If only the ultimate goal of their Arrangement would remain as clear and unchanging as it should…

🪞Read it here on AO3 🪞

🪶Or Start From The Beginning 🪶

Excerpt from Chapter 3 - “The Waltz”:

“Dancing requires practice.” “All the more reason for you to acquire some.” Besides, despite the viscount’s many excuses, Crowley had yet to hear him say he did not wish to dance. “I fear you are not getting my meaning,” he insisted, his eyes betraying his exasperation. “I am awfully out of practice, Crowley.” “Afraid you’re going to step on my toes?” As the viscount looked down at their feet, Crowley instinctively followed his lead and was faced with the stark contrast between their outfits. The pearly white of Aziraphale’s stockings and breeches, the pitch black of Crowley’s pantaloons and boots. “And ruin your brand new Hessians?” Aziraphale’s expression turned even prissier as he pointed one of his impeccably manicured fingers towards the front of his left boot. “I have been meaning to ask, is that a heart?” “That is most definitely not a heart.” “Well, it looks like a heart.” “It’s clearly an upside down spade. And you know what they say about spades…” They should always be called what they are, and certainly not be accused of being hearts of all things. Aziraphale slowly arched an eyebrow. “I see.” “Circling back to dancing–” “No.” “You’re wasting a perfectly good chance to mark your territory and signal every unmarried person here tonight that you are taken.” “I rather think that being seen together will do the trick without me making a complete fool of myself.” “Pity. I’ve been told that to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love.” Aziraphale turned to him, expression once again going from elated to suspicious to confused in the blink of an eye. “That does not sound like someone you would speak to.” “On the contrary, she’s a very skilled diamond robber I–” “A dia–” The viscount cut himself off with an irritated scoff and a truly remarkable eye-roll. “I shall not entertain your nonsense, Crowley.” “You did for a second, though. Should have seen your face.” He downed half of his ratafia in a single gulp, grimacing at the cloyingly sweet taste. “Let me tell you, Miss Jane would not appreciate your disbelief.” “If she has any common sense at all, this so-called and not at all imaginary Miss Jane would agree with me about you being exceptionally rude.” “Which doesn’t prevent me from being correct as well. Dance with me and I assure you there will be nary a suitor darkening your doorstep tomorrow.” Hope flickered back to life in the viscount’s eyes. “You cannot possibly know that.” “Are you brave enough to find out?”

1811. Returned to London after the death of his father, infamous rake Anthony ‘Crowley’, Duke of Morningstar, has three months to restore his tattered reputation and secure himself a proper match, on pain of having his title stripped from him. Enter the irreproachable Lord Aziraphale, newly minted Viscount Eastgate, who would very much like to discourage his many suitors from lining outside his door in Mayfair so he can go back to enjoying his peaceful existence on the shelf. After a chance meeting at a gentlemen’s club, it appears the two may lend each other a helping hand after all. While a fake engagement will not solve their problems once and for all, it should buy them enough time to put their respective affairs in order. If only the ultimate goal of their Arrangement would remain as clear and unchanging as it should…

🪶 A GO Regency AU - Rated E - for @addledmongoose via @fandomtrumpshate

🪞 Chapter 2 of 11 - “The Arrangement” (8k)

🎩 Completely written (around 80k in total) | Updates every Wednesday | Fake/Pretend Relationship | There Was Only One Bed

💜 Beta: the one and only @beerok23

1811. Returned to London after the death of his father, infamous rake Anthony ‘Crowley’, Duke of Morningstar, has three months to restore his tattered reputation and secure himself a proper match, on pain of having his title stripped from him. Enter the irreproachable Lord Aziraphale, newly minted Viscount Eastgate, who would very much like to discourage his many suitors from lining outside his door in Mayfair so he can go back to enjoying his peaceful existence on the shelf. After a chance meeting at a gentlemen’s club, it appears the two may lend each other a helping hand after all. While a fake engagement will not solve their problems once and for all, it should buy them enough time to put their respective affairs in order. If only the ultimate goal of their Arrangement would remain as clear and unchanging as it should…

🪞Read it here on AO3 🪞

🪶Or Start From The Beginning 🪶

Excerpt from Chapter 2 - “The Arrangement”:

One thing was for certain, if Crowley’s goal was to attract the attention of the poor dears still stuck in the marriage mart, his sinfully languid pose was surely doing the job for him. Come to think of it, was it not odd that the duke had resorted to their ridiculous ruse to make himself more palatable a match instead of using his dubious charms to have a proper lady or lord fall at his feet? Aziraphale did find such charms rather silly and overrated, but if the way Muriel had reacted to his presence was anything to go by, Crowley could have easily slithered his way into the waiting arms of whomever he set his sights on. Was there a chance he was not such a stranger to noble sentiments after all? Sensing the dangerous turn of his own thoughts, and at the same time rather powerless to stop himself, Aziraphale grabbed a piece of fine Italian cheese and asked, “So, what sort of match are you looking for?” The question shocked the duke enough to sit up and finally remove his top hat. “Wot?” “You said you came back to London to find yourself a spouse.” His hair is the loveliest shade of red, Aziraphale thought a propos of nothing, regretting not choosing a spot under the sun for their picnic. He would not have minded to see what colour it would turn under its rays as he remembered it being quite stunning from their first meeting at the apple tree. “Have you set your sights on someone specific?” Crowley made a face as he took off his gloves, which tragically resulted in Aziraphale peering at his long, elegant fingers and remembering how they had felt wrapped around his. “Not as such.” Not even that garish serpent ring with tiny ruby eyes could detract from them. “Why, do you have any recommendations?” “I cannot say that I have.” “Is there a reason you’re not married already?” “The same reason most people remain unmarried. No one has ever asked me.” Crowley tilted his head to the side, which Aziraphale supposed was one way to call out his lie. “Not for lack of trying.” Well, he did have a point. “No one I am interested in marrying has ever asked me,” he amended. “Not a soul in your hordes of suitors?” Aziraphale tutted. “I have standards.”