I haven't read it yet but the tags are poppin and I thought about your earlier post immediately. Hope this message finds you well! ♥️
I have a tab open to this one for when there's more chapters, actually! Saw it in my beloved Chubby Aziraphale tag, don't know yet if it'll have the very specific kind of feels I crave, but you're right about the tags being very promising.
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It's not really an ask, more a statement: your Good Omens fanfictions have managed to completely derail my Saturday. They're so charming and adorable and cosy, I have spent the majority of the day under a blanket on the sofa reading. They also speak to my soul, also being Ace, it's so beautiful to read stories without having to skip through massive sections that gratuitously describe sex. That's all. Thank you.
Aww, thank you for this statement! I mean, theoretically you had something else planned on that Saturday (this message has been waiting in my inbox for a week and a half), but I feel like as alternatives go, "lying under a blankie on the sofa reading" is a pretty good one. I might be inclined to do it myself if my house contained a sofa.
Also, fun fact, those wishing to shove All The Asexual Content into their eyeballs may wish to peruse the works of AO3 users hope_in_the_dark and IneffableDoll. There's a bunch of people with a bunch of wonderful ace Ineffable Walnuts stories, but I'm pretty sure Hope and Doll are both with me on the "only writing that forever" bandwagon, meaning a 100% match with Ah Yes This Is The Thing I Was Looking For.
I hope you have a super good next 24 hours after you see this response!
So I got this almost a month ago, and I was going to open it during my "off work for reasons of s2" vacation, because I'd be all happy and mentally energized and primed to enjoy 24 hours of crustaceans then, surely.
Cough.
But someone just sent me another free day of Crab, and since I'll never actually use every second's worth (I like sleeping), probably I should just start enjoying them as they come. Right?
I never actually clicked the button or whatever it was on April Fool's Day, so this will be the first time I have little ocean-going friends on my dash! Thank you, anon. (Thank you also the anon who sent me one today)
Okay so this one involves Misunderstandings but I 100% swear it ends up super super happy and soft. Probably not even a thousand words before the Soft.
Here's 1 sentence and change that I'd already written (for context), and then the rest of the second sentence plus three more...
[The door to the coffee shop cut off all sounds from within with a sharp little clack. Aziraphale supposed that his heart would make a similar noise, closed up once again to keep all his hopeless dreams inside], if anyone were to care to listen. Not that he had time for such nonsense anyway.
“I don’t have time for this,” he reiterated when the door swung open again. “I’d much rather you —”
Very happy to see you doing WIP Wednesday! May I request sentences for fishmen epilogue, please?
I do believe you may!
“Shut up,” Crowley had answered, face already pressed against Aziraphale’s shoulder again, so that it didn’t really sound like words at all. Aziraphale had done the opposite of shutting up by blathering on for ages about what they might perhaps do today, and tomorrow, and every day and month and century after that. Crowley couldn’t stop smiling.
That had been the first morning.
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I was wondering if you finished and plan to publish the Umbrella AU? I checked your account and I couldn't find it anywhere (sorry if I just didn't notice). I would really gladly read it! (I desperately need it)
Finished, no; still plan to publish, though, yes.
I realized something like a year and a half ago that the story needed a structural overhaul from the beginning before I could move on to its conclusion. (Example: Crowley never actually indicates what he does for a living, in like six months of increasingly close friendship. Even when he hangs out at the bookshop for hours at a time "putting in some hours" on his laptop. So how does he pay his bills? I have no idea.) Then I didn't actually do it, because the ol' depression started getting so bad that "200 usable words on a short one-shot" became a really, really good week. (I used to write INNW chapters in 2-3 days. How.)
I know what it feels like when a story is no longer alive in my head, and this one is still kicking. It's just kicking on the other side of a door, and the door is closed, and there's a big pile of furniture built up blocking that door plus also a sign saying "Beware Of Leopard".
Would a probable outtake help? Looks like I rewrote the currently-last couple of chapters about a dozen times at the end of 2021, so here's the entirety of one chunk which I dropped midway through and I'm guessing probably won't pick up again:
--
[This human!Aziraphale is in his early 40s and has never been on a date or anything, and now somehow he seems to have become on smooching terms with Crowley. Some number of days or possibly weeks into this he asks Crowley whether Crowley is in love with him.]
"Well, I mean, hah." It was probably meant as a laugh, that sound. Perhaps Crowley was trying to smile. "Don't need to talk about all that so fast, do we? I mean, you -- you like me, like spending time with me, right? Angel?"
Aziraphale nodded, not looking up from where his hands now lay absolutely still together.
"Right -- and I… really like spending time with you, best part of my life these days, honestly -- w-which I don't mean to mean anything --"
The shiver in Crowley's voice was all the 'No' Aziraphale needed, really. Of course it wouldn't be that. There was a reason no one had ever so much as asked him out for coffee, let alone wanted to pursue a romance with him, and whatever that reason might be, it wasn't as though anything had changed. He was still only himself. And yes, at last, he'd found exactly one man who could be fond of him -- who could inexplicably find him physically attractive, who would actually want to kiss him -- but that was already more than he should ever have expected.
He was just one of those poor souls whose fate was to never be loved like that.
"It's all right," he said, cutting off Crowley's scramble for an answer. "I'm not expecting you to be."
"Aziraphale --"
There was a little catch in his throat, suddenly, although he wasn't quite sure where it had come from. "Goodness, I'm rather making a hash of things, aren't I? I didn't mean to push you into having to give the 'it's not you, it's me' speech quite so early…"
He raised his head, finally, trying on a reassuring smile, although he hoped that at least some of the terror would already be gone from Crowley's face.
Ah. Even worse: now the poor man looked absolutely heartbroken.
"Aziraphale," Crowley said again. "It isn't you."
"Please, you needn't --"
"And it isn't me either, it… urgh." At last Crowley pushed himself away from the wall, pacing without really seeming to be watching where he was going. His hands shoved through his hair, setting it to disarray and somehow looking even more handsome than before. "It isn't anyone. There isn't a thing."
--
Then Crowley would stumble through his explanation that in fact the answer is yes actually very much extremely yeah yes.
Love your fat positivity. Crowley’s enthusiasm for soft Aziraphale has been life changing for me. Love your WI/Milwaukee stuff. Glad you’re a child or I’d be tempted to stalk you.
I'm very glad you're enjoying it 💜 Although... I'm forty-one? Not that I'm requesting a stalker, but I'm pretty sure the last time I was deemed a youth was about a decade ago with the then-coworker who called me "kid".
