Wet Cat Appreciator

My fan fiction can be found on AO3 (fandoms - Good Omens, Kingdom Come Deliverance)

💋 If we were || rated e, 3k, GO In 1941 Aziraphale and Crowley imagine their life as humans. Features: longing, bittersweetness, love confessions.

🏡 Our days ahead || rated e, WIP, GO

Aziraphale and Crowley try to make sense of their brand new retirement. A series of dates that aren't dates after the world doesn't end. Features: mutual pining, oblivious idiots, friends-to-lovers, post S1-retirement.

🌸 The Ecstasy of Eden || rated e, 28k, GO

5 times they used sex pollen, and the one time they didn't Through the Ages fic.

Features: sex pollen, 6000 years pining.

🌳 The Apple Doesn't Fall Far || rated e, 58k, GO

Crowley inherits a cottage. Aziraphale, the parish councillor, is in charge of demolishing it.

Features: flirting over planning permits, small town human AU.

More Under the Cut:

Aziraphale and Crowley go on a picnic.

A post S1 fic (S2 and S3 not included).

Summary

Aziraphale and Crowley try to make sense of their brand new retirement.

A series of dates that aren't dates after the world doesn't end.

Rating: E (eventually)

Start here

Read Chapter six

Excerpt “Are these sandwiches?” Aziraphale said, picking up the wrapped wedge of bread. 

“Yeah, thought, it’s a picnic and -”

“You made them?”

Crowley rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if it was possible for a demon to get sunburnt

“S’not anything special, ham and cheese, bit of pickle,” Crowley said, Aziraphale was staring at him, with a look that seemed to go right through him. 

“It’s not full of maggots, is it?”

“I wouldn't do that to you,” Crowley said, mock affronted. “Anyway, be easier to upset you with one of the limp tuna sandwiches from Tesco.”

“Definitely one of your inventions," Aziraphale nodded sagely. “But Harrods is down your street, or Selfridges, you didn’t have to make them.” 

Crowley shrugged. He had spent the afternoon hacking at a breadcrust on his marble countertop, wondering if it was the first time the kitchen had been used for its proper purpose. 

Words had never come easy to Crowley. Consonants sure, vowels even better, but combined into words, they never quite expressed exactly the sentiment he wanted to say. Somewhere between whatever existed between his ears to his mouth, they became twisted, confused, muddled.

He had been thinking a lot. The type of thinking that involved staring out of windows, letting coffees go cold, pausing television shows so colourful fantasies can play out in 4k demon imagination.

And even then, the thoughts hadn't translated easily into words, definitely not into sentences, and absolutely not paragraphs. 

So instead he made sandwiches. 

“Bored, wanted to try it,” Crowley said, though he was watching Aziraphale intently, as he examined it. 

“Not even a miracle?” Aziraphale continued quietly, as he unwrapped the clingfilm. 

Crowley shook his head. It was, now he looked at it, rather terrible. The bread was far too thick and more triangle than slice, the ham was stuffed inside so the layer of pink was the size of half of his thumb, and the pickles were barely hanging on, making the insides look moist and soggy. 

“Expecting a new famine, were you?” Aziraphale chided, the glint playfully dancing behind his eyes. 

“Wouldn’t want you going hungry for the next century. You know for an angel who doesn’t need to eat, you still manage to get tetchy if you haven’t consumed in the last three hours.”

“I enjoy it, what is the point of living, well, existing at least, without enjoying the fruits of it.” Aziraphale’s gaze seemed to linger a little longer on Crowley before looking back at the wedge of bread in his hands. “Wish me luck.” 

Aziraphale held the sandwich aloft, appearing to consider which angle was best to attack it from. He found a corner and went in, stuffing the hunk between his teeth. “Mmm, s’good,” he said, between bites. “A lot of bread.” He choked a bit, spitting a few breadcrumbs.

“You don’t have to eat that thing if -”

Aziraphale held up a finger to silence him, rolling back his shoulders with the air of a man about to tightrope across a 1,500 foot building. It was fascinating, endearing and somewhat horrifying to watch him consume the sandwich, which suddenly seemed four times the size as he appeared to unhinge his jaw to get a handle on it.

Crowley didn’t know whether to lean in or look away; it felt indecent, especially knowing it had been made with his own hands. Aziraphale popped the last crust in his mouth, like a knight who had defeated a mythic dragon.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far || 58k I have seen some awesome fic writers: @carry-the-sky, @quitequaintrelle, @gaiaseyes451, @copperplatebeech doing this and I wanted to play along!

I wanted to talk about the trial of writing a longfic when you have spent half your career learning the art of writing short copy. I trained as a journalist many moons ago (and never actually become one because the industry basically began to collapse the year I graduated), and then spent a lot of years writing communications for small non profits. From my Masters to my career I learnt a few things - don't bury the lead and keep it short. So, when I found myself catapulted like a confused cannonball into the Good Omens fandom after S2 and then even more surprisingly found myself writing fanfiction - I made myself a goal to try and fight all my programming. The goal: write a fic over 50k words. I decided to pick an easy romance trope that I knew I could follow (I have devoured a lot of romance in my time) and came up with a rather silly plot involving human cityboy Crowley inheriting a cottage in the middle of nowhere and Aziraphale Fell, the parish councillor, being put in charge of knocking it down. They end up on the same side (while pretending otherwise); and romance ensues. I chose to write it all in one go and only start publishing when I finished. I got about halfway and hit a wall, and reached out to my writing buddies. The incredible @happynachohologram & @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon willingly read half of this beast, cheering me along, and kept beta-ing the whole thing; even when the Google doc was practically collapsing under it's own weight of words. I have since learnt to put separate chapters in different docs. For me, this whole fic was an exercise in slowing down and learning to take my time to describe the scenes around the characters. I taught myself to outline (I used Gwen Hayes Romancing the Beat as a structure and it did me well). I learnt to think about character motivation; and how going back to those would help me get through the blocks. But I really fell in love with taking my time, building the romance slowly and mostly creating a whole new world of my own! The resulting fic is absolutely silly, cosy, extremely British vibes and it will always have a place in my heart. And mainly it taught me that I can write a longfic! And in the end it was 58k words, so take that brain. This is for anyone who struggles writing long, believe me, we aren't all natural long writers but it doesn't mean it's not possible. Anyway, it is likely still a bit rough around the edges, but the fact I ever finished it is something to be proud of. I haven't written a long human AU since I finished this one, but I keep thinking I want to try again. And I am currently writing a slightly longer (middling) canon post S1 fic and I am having a ball. I am in awe of people who manage to throw out 100k fics every few months. You AMAZE me.