Wade Listens To So Much 90s/00s/10s Pop It Drives Logan INSANE. He's Blasting Gwen Steffani And Beyonce

wade listens to so much 90s/00s/10s pop it drives logan INSANE. he's blasting gwen steffani and beyonce in the early mornings, he plugs in the aux to one direction and nsync, he puts on the most ghastly house remixes when cleaning. but to logan that's not the worst part, the worst part is that he starts enjoying it. he starts humming some of the songs when making coffee in the morning before wade is conscious, he taps his fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat in the car, he even picks "call me maybe" during their weekly karaoke night.

wade just smiles fondly and gently

love of my life [ineffable husbands]

⚠️GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 SPOILERS⚠️

crowley x aziraphale

summary: crowley decides to go on a drive to take his mind off things when his day goes way off plan

category: angst. just pure angst.

warnings: mentions of s2e6, slight mentions of alcoholism if you squint, irresponsible driving, lmk if there's anything i missed !!

word count: 2k

a/n: i wasn't planning this fic at all i js started writing this purely to make my friend cry and they ended up liking it so why not post it here. im not rlly the best writer but i wish i was. this is also inspired by "love of my life" by queen so i'd recommend listening to it while reading! open to constructive criticism !!

It's been three years since the angel left the poor old demon here on Earth. Crowley has since gotten back up on his feet and continued existence as it was. Just him continuing and pretending to be a normal human. It was boring without Aziraphale, he must admit, but it was better than if he went with him to Heaven and lived out a lie he never truly believed in.

'Ah it's fine' He would think, 'I'm over that old bastard anyway'. But deep down he knew. He was never really over him. He never recovered from the rejection he received from the angel. His angel. I mean how could he? He had been with Aziraphale since the beginning of time. He had been pining for the angel for the past 6,000 years. He would make every excuse just to see that bright and shining smile of his. Over time, he had become his friend. And eventually, fell in love with him.

But that's impossible, right? I mean Aziraphale is an angel, a soldier of Heaven. While Crowley is a demon, a servant of the big bad. They're hereditary enemies. They're not even supposed to tolerate each other. They're on opposite sides. That's what Aziraphale had believed at least. Crowley believed they could be on their own side. Together. But he was wrong. He thought Aziraphale loved him enough to stay with him. But he had chosen Heaven over his best friend. Crowley tried not to think about the angel too much. It hurt worse than Hell.

Crowley decided to go out on a drive with his Bentley to keep his mind off the angel and he started driving. He had no idea where he was going; he just kept driving. At this point, he had been driving for just over an hour and the silence became unbearable. He decided to turn on the radio of his car, hoping a specific song wouldn't play. And yet that one song started playing. The car filled with the lucid sounds of "Good Old-Fashion Lover Boy". It was his song. No, their song. Crowley dreaded hearing the song that reminded him so much of his and Aziraphale's…friendship? Relationship? He didn't even know at this point.

He was tired of pining. tired of mourning. how could he even mourn someone who was alive? Maybe because Aziraphale was dead to Crowley. No. He couldn't be. No matter how much Crowley tried to hate Aziraphale he just couldn't bring himself to. He loved him, for Christ's sake. He didn't even know he was capable of even loving anyone so much and yet his angel couldn't even stay for him. Stay for them.

He quickly skipped the radio to the next station, which had become one of his biggest mistakes.

"That certain night. The night we met." Crowley's whole body tensed up at the sound of the music. "There were angels dining at the ritz." The same song that had played in his car the day Aziraphale left him for Heaven. "And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square" He felt the painful lump in his throat slowly build up and gripped the steering wheel with such force that his knuckles turned white. Then he remembered what he told Aziraphale the day he left.

"No nightingales." No nightingales. Sure, Crowley said that to Aziraphale. There were no nightingales in Heaven. They were on Earth. But that applied to Crowley as well. Because after that, nightingales were never the same for him. Because nightingales weren't nightingales without his angel. He quickly turned off the radio and pushed down on the pedal harder.

He wanted to forget about the stupid angel that had left and forgot about him. His stupid angel. He hated himself for it. He hated how he couldn't bring himself to even produce any ounce of hate for him. He hated how he still thought about him every day and how he would cry himself to sleep some nights because of him. He hated how he still cared for him. And most especially, he hated how he still loved him with every atom of his being and would still come running back to him if given the chance. 'Fuck. I can't be thinking about him again.' He gave in and turned the radio back on. He needed something to drown out the noise of his thoughts. He heard the familiar tune of the piano and guitar in the song's intro.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me." He recognises the song and the dreadful feeling in his body comes back. "You've broken my heart and now you leave me." The lump in his throat grows and he feels his eyes start to water. "Love of my life can't you see?" He tilts his head up in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing down his face. "Bring it back, bring it back. Don't take it away from me." He looks to his left to avert his attention to something other than the song playing. And there it was. He recognised this street. The buildings, the signs, the trees, and the layout. He recognised them all. Then it hit him. "Because you don't know what it means to me." He was nearing the bookshop. The bookshop where the love of his life had lived. Where he and his angel had shared many fond memories together. Where he confessed his feelings for Aziraphale. Where he kissed him. The bookshop where the angel had left him and broke his heart.

"Love of my life don't leave me." In which the very place he was in was the same place the love of his life left him. Ironic isn't it? They vowed they would do anything for the world and yet the place he was at was the place his world chose Heaven over him. "You've taken my love, you now desert me." He was nearing the front of the bookshop and a part of him considered stopping by the bookshop. Who was he kidding? It's not like his angel would be waiting for him in the bookshop. He passed the shop and kept driving. "Love of my life, can't you see?" He felt the warm liquid build up in his yellow, sheltered eyes and flow down his cheek through his glasses. "FUCK!" He punched his steering wheel, causing a loud honk noise to come out of his vehicle. He grabbed the steering wheel and made a sharp turn back to their bookshop.

"Bring it back, bring it back. Don't take it away from me." He parked the Bentley in front of the coffee shop "Bring Me Coffee or Bring Me Death". Crowley got out of the car, slammed his car door shut, and stomped towards the bookshop. He pushes the doors open to see a familiar angel reading in a rocking chair next to a pile of books. But it wasn't his angel. "Nope! We're closed. No books to sell! Get out!" Muriel says without looking up from their book. God how he wished it was Aziraphale in that rocking chair. "Uhm excuse me, I said get ou-" They finally look up from their book to see the fiery red demon, "Oh! Mr Crowley! I was wondering when you'd stop by! It's been wha-" Crowley interrupts the angel, "Three years."

"Yes! Yes! Three years!"

"Muriel, could you uh…could you give me a minute? In here? In the bookshop? Alone?" They nod and step outside the bookshop to give the demon some space. He looks around and takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of the bookshop. It wasn't too different from the last time he was there. But there was something off. It…smelled different. It still smelled like old wood and books but something was missing. Then he realised: It no longer smelled like Aziraphale. Of course he would notice. Of course he would know what Aziraphale smelled like after being with him for the past 6 millennium.

He walked over to the desk Aziraphale used to sit and write at. He remembered all the times Aziraphale would sit at his desk while he listened to Crowley's silly complaints as he sat on the floor. He looks back up from the floor and he catches his eye on a photo frame on his desk. He picked it up to observe the photo and the tears started to flow again. It was the photo of them at Aziraphale's stupid magic show back in London 1941. But something was different about the photo. The photo the Nazis had taken that night was a polaroid. The photo in the frame was a landscape style print-out. Then crowley realised that Aziraphale had made a copy specifically for the frame on his desk. And he had the polaroid with him all along.

He holds the frame close to his chest and drops to his knees. He couldn't believe himself. He was supposed to be this strong and mighty fallen angel who became a demon. But there he was, on his knees, mourning someone who was well alive. He felt pathetic. He hopelessly looked up to the ceiling, "WHY? GOD WHY? all i did was ask questions… WAS MY FALL NOT ENOUGH YOU FUCKING BASTARD? WERE MY THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF PAIN AND TORTURE NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU? YOU TOOK AWAY THE ONE THING THAT MATTERED TO ME. THERE'S NOTHING LEFT FOR ME TO GIVE YOU. WAS I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU? I DON'T FUCKING DESERVE THIS!" He finally let out everything he's been holding onto for thousands of years. All for no response. All for nothing.

Crowley had cried himself to sleep on Aziraphale's shop floor, holding the picture frame. As much as he wished he hated Aziraphale, as much as he pretended, he knew he could never truly hate him. And he just had to accept that fact. Little did Crowley know was that Aziraphale was right outside the bookshop to go check on Muriel and the bookshop. And hopefully check on Crowley if he had time.

Aziraphale walked towards the shop to see someone slumped over and reading a book. For just a moment, part of him wished it was Crowley slumped over on the shop's platform, but he knew it wasn't him. He knew Crowley had given up on looking for Aziraphale. He was ready to face the fact that he could never get his best friend…the person he loved…back. Aziraphale never said it out loud but he missed Crowley. More than anything. He regretted every decision he made since that day. He missed the mischievous pranks and remarks. The feeling of his lips on his. He missed his world.

Muriel finally looked up from their book and looked at Aziraphale gleefully, "Mr Fell! You're back! How's Heaven?"

"Oh uh yes yes fine, Muriel. How's the bookshop?"

"Oh it's doing great! I haven't sold or given away any books!" Aziraphale smiles knowing his shop and books were safe. But there was one thing he wasn't sure about. "Muriel, have you see Crowley lately? Or any time since I've gone back?"

"Oh yes! Mr Crowley visited today for the first time actually. He's still inside I think. I'm actually out here because he asked to be alone." Aziraphale's heart starts racing, "Crowley's…here?" Muriel nods. Aziraphale rushes inside to find a figure curled up on the floor. "…Crowley?" The figures shifts a bit then groggily sits up straight and faces Aziraphale. The angel's suspicions were then proven correct. Aziraphale couldn't believe it. After three, excruciating long years, he finally saw Crowley face to face. "Oh piss off. I haven't had much to drink today." Aziraphale slowly steps closer to the demon, "Crowley I-" Crowley lazily puts his hand up to stop him, "I'm not in the mood for hallucinations today, you shit." The confession broke Aziraphale's heart. That was when Aziraphale realised how much he had hurt his best friend. As Crowley started to fully wake up, his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. "So I suppose an apology dance is in order?" Crowley's heart completely shattered and healed all in one second. He frantically takes his glasses off and aggressively rubs his eyes. When the image doesn't go away he realises. Aziraphale. His angel. He was right in front of his eyes. After all these years.

"Angel…?"

Wade Listens To So Much 90s/00s/10s Pop It Drives Logan INSANE. He's Blasting Gwen Steffani And Beyonce

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