"Small and unassuming, the little red book peeked out between a bundle of disco LPs and an unopened box of fairy lights." This delights my soul. There's always a box of fairy lights. ALWAYS. That is the nature of all sales garage, yard, and estate.
“What? Oh, that was you calling?”
Crowley gave him a scalding look. - I love that Crowley is doing the look equivalent of screaming "I AM LITERALLY YOUR ONLY FRIEND. WHO DO YOU THINK WOULD CALL YOU?"
Probably from me, actually. They’d have sent orders and I would have had to, oh, I don’t know, appear before you in a great ostentatious pillar of fire and tell you to ‘Piss off, or else’.” -The joy of GO for me is totally in that blend of 'grandness' and prosaicness and this hits it so squarely on the head that I could basically die happy.
Aziraphale, for lack of anything better to do, started to wash the glasses and his tea mug by hand when, yet again, Crowley came crashing through the front door. Unbraced by the chair, this time Aziraphale toppled over when Crowley leapt at him in a full-body tackle. His head cracked against the wood floor and he lay there, dazed, being… cuddled. No, clutched. Slowly absorbed into Crowley’s physical being by sheer force. He was still feeling woozy when Crowley jumped up and then suddenly blinked out of existence, only to reappear seconds later to spend a few minutes hugging Aziraphale’s prostrate form.
-THIIIIS, the yoyoing of Crowley in and out of the shop as well as touching and not touching Aziraphale is gold. I love the whiplash nature of this and how wacky it gets until Aziraphale just has to sort of give up. A+++
Crowley gave him a horrified look. Rather than being offended, Aziraphale silently concurred. Going everywhere with Crowley would require leaving the shop and being out in public for hours. And not even in a restaurant where at the very least you didn’t have to talk to more than the one person sharing your table. Dear Lord, it was like a nightmare. The alternative, Crowley hanging around the shop while they figured this out wasn’t all bad, but Aziraphale wasn’t keen on having a sulking Demon languishing all over his armchairs while he was trying to have some alone time with his books. -I love that they both relish having their own space. They are both such fussy birbs in their own ways and you capture that so perfectly and hilariously!
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“What? Oh, that was you calling?”
Crowley gave him a scalding look.
- I love that Crowley is doing the look equivalent of screaming "I AM LITERALLY YOUR ONLY FRIEND. WHO DO YOU THINK WOULD CALL YOU?"
Probably from me, actually. They’d have sent orders and I
would have had to, oh, I don’t know, appear before you in a great ostentatious pillar of fire and tell you
to ‘Piss off, or else’.”
-The joy of GO for me is totally in that blend of 'grandness' and prosaicness and this hits it so squarely on the head that I could basically die happy.
Aziraphale, for lack of anything better to do, started to wash the glasses and his tea mug by hand when,
yet again, Crowley came crashing through the front door. Unbraced by the chair, this time Aziraphale
toppled over when Crowley leapt at him in a full-body tackle. His head cracked against the wood floor
and he lay there, dazed, being… cuddled. No, clutched. Slowly absorbed into Crowley’s physical being by
sheer force. He was still feeling woozy when Crowley jumped up and then suddenly blinked out of
existence, only to reappear seconds later to spend a few minutes hugging Aziraphale’s prostrate form.
-THIIIIS, the yoyoing of Crowley in and out of the shop as well as touching and not touching Aziraphale is gold. I love the whiplash nature of this and how wacky it gets until Aziraphale just has to sort of give up. A+++
Crowley gave him a horrified look. Rather than being offended, Aziraphale silently concurred. Going
everywhere with Crowley would require leaving the shop and being out in public for hours. And not
even in a restaurant where at the very least you didn’t have to talk to more than the one person sharing
your table. Dear Lord, it was like a nightmare. The alternative, Crowley hanging around the shop while
they figured this out wasn’t all bad, but Aziraphale wasn’t keen on having a sulking Demon languishing
all over his armchairs while he was trying to have some alone time with his books.
-I love that they both relish having their own space. They are both such fussy birbs in their own ways and you capture that so perfectly and hilariously!