Siskey

i wouldn’t fall for someone i thought couldn’t misbehave

He’s back!

Crowley's back on his witchy shit! 💛

Go & Read it.

Here’s my comic about Crowley’s bender in Spain 10 pages, the rest below the cut! Zines are available for preorder!! 

Keep reading

Yes, of course he gives snugs, what would we except from him, he can barely walk like human.

Serpentine hug🐍

The sun finally setting over the horizon of the Russian River Valley. Oh boy, that fic really hit the spot.

Heya, happy news everyone!  Chapter 9 of It never hurts to keep looking for a sunshine!! There gonna be some very nice and silly moments which I utterly adore (bless you @elfontheshelves​). Just two guys chillin in the kitchen, really. Hope you all had a great time on TIC and please enjoy new chapter! I promise you will as I do ♡

Just one word: FINALLY

Can’t stop thinking about them and this moment. My heart still singing, my hands shaking, my head empty. Soft soft bois, as I am. And Merry Christmas to everyone!

Chapter 7 of It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine.

‘Guaradians’

It’s been two years since I rebloged a little teaser of my submission for Of Feathers & Wings: A Good Omens Zine. I guess it’s time to post the full picture 😅

Bless her! She's my hero 🙏

Met an old teacher today and we got talking about ‘the good old times’ and ten minutes into the conversation I jokingly said the one regret I have from middle school is that I never won anything at her magnificent tombolas? Because, like, she used to hold this game about once a month so we’d learn the numbers in French and it was never big prizes, but as a 12-yo I desperately craved them - a cactus-shaped eraser, a bright blue notebook with slightly larger-than-usual squares, a set of coloured pens - and never ever got a single one of them. 

(Actually spent a good few months thinking I was genetically unlucky and researching ancient family curses with my grandma.) 

So today I don’t know what I was hoping for - nothing, really?

(I mean, that part of me that’s still twelve was probably expecting this sweet old woman to have a set of glitter stickers in her purse and just go ‘You know what, you’re right - I’ve been saving this one for you all these years, here you go’ but I’m a solidly rational person and I know that’s stupid.)

No, I thought we’d just laugh and it would be a good shared memory and that would be it. Instead, my teacher got flustered and a bit embarrassed and explained the game was rigged. It was never about learning French at all. She’d just noticed some kids couldn’t afford even basic stationery, so she’d buy a few half-fancy items every month with her own money just for them. She didn’t want them to feel different or left out. And obviously the way she used to walk around in the classroom, looking over our shoulders - it wasn’t to prevent cheating. It was because she was cheating herself, wanting to see which number a particular child needed to get a Minnie Mouse pencil case.

Guys - the world is fucked up, but so many people out there are just good and kind and humbly heroic it honestly gives me hope. 

It’ll be alright, you’ll see.

Aziraphale very nearly twinkled over his pasta as he licked the final remnants of its rich sauce from the tines of his fork. Enraptured by the flick of his pink tongue, Crowley watched helplessly and feigned boredom.

Across the restaurant, a chair scraped against the tiled floor. Crowley reluctantly looked away from Aziraphale's pleased expression as they both turned toward the clatter. The man at the table slipped from his seat to kneel at his date’s feet, ring in hand. His fingers trembled. The gem sparkled. The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. She nodded frantically and shoved her hand in his direction. Yes! Yes. Of course, yes.

The couple laughed, flustered, as the patrons at other tables and a few pedestrians on the street clapped. Aziraphale joined in. Crowley didn’t.

“How lovely!” Aziraphale smiled, radiating a pure joy Crowley had to squint at even behind his sunglasses.

“He spent all his wages on that little bauble, I’d bet. Bit of a waste.”

“Love is never a waste, my dear.”

Of course Crowley privately agreed. Of course he did. He'd already sacrificed more in the name of love. He was never sure how much Aziraphale understood, but with the secretive, knowing glance he was receiving from across the table, Crowley suspected it was a great deal indeed.

Heart pounding, Crowley flagged a waiter for the dessert menu and sent a bottle of bubbles to the newly engaged couple's table. Aziraphale, now with dessert in sight, grinned impossibly wider, warm as sunshine. Crowley basked, snake that he was.