lmao why i never done good omens art, its my favourite book!
(this art gave me some emotions, so…..)
Crowley laughed out loud at his own absurd joke that would not have been at all funny had less alcohol been involved. Aziraphale couldn’t help laughing at him. He giggled and tottered, and then he tottered right into Crowley.
Crowley nearly dropped his glass.
He felt like he’d been shot in the chest. At first he thought Aziraphale must have hit him with the bottle, but both the angel’s arms were wrapped around him, pressing the bottle and glass against his back. That didn’t explain the sudden pang in his chest, then, or why he was finding it hard to breathe. Maybe he really had knocked the wind out of him. The angel had a hard head sometimes, he thought with a smirk, but surely that mop of hair of his would have cushioned the blow a bit.
“Aziraphale–” Crowley said. But he did not tell him to get off.
The angel was still giggling, his shoulders shaking and his voice muffled by Crowley’s shirt.
“Az–” He forced himself to take a deep breath. Aziraphale tightened his arms around him. Crowley stumbled back a few paces, Aziraphale still clinging to him, until his back hit the table. He set his glass on it and gripped the edge to steady himself.
The ache in his chest was still there. Right by the angel. Crowley was starting to understand. It wasn’t a bad feeling, really. Not exactly pain. Something else.
“Ah,” Crowley said. Aziraphale had grown quiet. Crowley put one hand on his back, the other on that mop of hair of his. “Okay,” he said, smiling a little. That’s what it is.

bradbradleyart
sous-le-saule
what-alchemy

skyline-sunset-in-my-veins






