"Oh. Yeah." Crowley shuffled his feet, looking surprisingly boyish. "Come to New York with me tomorrow?" Aziraphale blinked. "Why?" "To see how Warlock is doing," Crowley said, as if that was obvious. "Warlock?" He blinked again, and Crowley looked annoyed. Unfortunately what came out of his mouth was, "You were the one who suggested killing the boy." "It wasn't personal." Crowley took off his dark glasses, apparently the better to glare at him. "He's still our kid." "B-but, Crowley, he's not our kid," Aziraphale said helplessly, wondering if Crowley was going insane or if he was. "You're a terrible father for an angel," Crowley said, accusingly. "I'm a demon, and I make a far better mother." --- Aziraphale is almost certain that Crowley is only being perverse. But demons are unaccountable creatures, and Aziraphale finds himself flying to New York with him anyway.

Gabriel died. Again. But, like, for real this time. So, why does he feel so awake, and what the hell happened to Castiel's voice?

Good Omens. Crowley and Aziraphale pose as husbands for a house party, because Aziraphale is bad at saying no (to anyone but Crowley and anyone trying to buy books). Crowley thinks this is a good chance to prove himself the perfect potential demon husband to a fussy angel. But things get complicated fast. Really complicated. A lot of pining, a lot of shopping and restaurants and party games, some near misses, but no sex until chapter 24 (and all of 25).

Crowley finds his secret conviction that the world was designed for his personal entertainment severely tested by the bloody boring fourteenth century. But what is he a demon for, if not to spice things up a bit? It's irrelevant that a certain angel is taking his orders seriously for once and embarking on a life of self-denial and doing good. That isn't the reason Crowley is bored, at all. And he certainly isn't acting up to get Aziraphale's attention because he's desperately in love or anything.

That was no way to think, just because a stupid ex-nun misinterpreted a blamelessly hostile situation. That way lay madness. That way lay an angel with disapprovingly pursed lips and pitying pale eyes and "My dear boy, I'm so *very* sorry, but..." and Armageddon would come as a relief after that, really.

Angels are dicks, at least, that's what Dean Winchester thinks. He stands by his rules, and his rules only that not even his younger brother Sam Winchester, can't interfere. And then, Dean went to hell. Literally. And once he saw the blue-eyed, soft-spoken Angel of The Lord, Castiel, he knew that he brought big trouble. And now that the angel is tagging along, will Dean finally abide a rule he swore he'd never break?

Dean is ready to kill himself. His dads an alcoholic, his mum is dead, and he never has had any friends. Then he meets Castiel.

This is a Destiel fanfic of you're into that sorta thing. Also... This is my first time writing. So... fingers crossed. (: Hope you enjoy it.

Castiel is an Angel of the lord but when his brother Gabriel is called away on a mission of heaven, Castiel is forced to be normal. This involves going to school where he meets the dashing Dean Winchester.