Just a bunch of one shots for those ineffable husbands ♤ Requests: OPEN as of 9/13/23 (dm me or comment)

excerpt: "Gosh, Crowley thinks to himself. Is Aziraphale really that drunk? He thought he was more dramatic. Does he really take his English that seriously? Crowley puts on a robe and walks around the dull lit hotel room. He groans. Technically demons don't really need to sleep, but Crowley swears that his body is uncomfortable after the consumption of too much alcohol. His mind is too bottled up from talking earlier that he jumps into bed and barely thinks of his surroundings. His body merely feels exhausted, aching from the effort of suppressing his desires." All my late night writings when I refused to sleep. There's no broken english, I've made sure of it! It's a short story of Crowley and Aziraphale :) And yes, the cover is my very OWN artwork lol!

🌻Honestly, this is just a weird story I'm slowly writing...sorry if it makes no sense!!! 🌻 \\🌹If you don't get a warm fuzzy feeling then I'm not doing this right...🌹//

They thought it was all over. They thought they'd be left alone. They weren't that lucky. The angels and demons are back for revenge, but the angel and demon won't back down for anything. Even God herself can't stand between them. Perhaps there is a war to come after all. Not between heaven and hell, but between Aziraphale and Crowley, and everyone else. I Do not own characters, the series, book or movie, or any images used. I only take credit for this fanfiction written and any original characters

Throughout their years together, there have been multiple occasions when Crowley desperately wanted to dance with Aziraphale. There was one time where he gave in to the desire. Or, five times Crowley wanted to dance with Aziraphale, and one time they did. Angst, fluff, etc.

Aziraphale stops by Crowley's apartment to find a rather . . . interesting letter. His findings create a chain reaction of wild events. Things he's only imagined in his most wistful dreams. Absolutely ungodly things. Beautiful things.

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.

"Aziraphale debated internally a bit, but curling his arm up around Crowley's shoulder really was more comfortable. He knew he was being silly. He knew a dance was nothing and if it made Crowley happy after his feelings had apparently been hurt it wasn't much to ask, but-it was the demon. He had the literally infernal talent to make even the simplest, least dubious things feel like a temptation. Aziraphale knew it was Crowley's nature, and not strictly saying his fault, but it did sometimes make things feel *complicated*." Biarritz, South of France, 1921. Aziraphale stumbles on Crowley apparently working the hotels and casinos as a gigolo. At least, that's where it begins.

Crowley and Aziraphale go through what is most likely their most daring, life-risking, but nice and accurate adventure. But is trouble the only thing that's brewing?