batbeech
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The thing about stars was that people thought they were fixed. Even Anthony, who knew better, could sometimes fall into the romance of it: the sky as a pattern, the constellations as ancient furniture. But stars were never still. They burned, collapsed, and devoured themselves, making new elements in the furnace of their deaths. The steady ones only looked steady from far enough away.
OR
Anthony mistakes Asa’s restraint as a lack of desire. Three months into their relationship, Anthony and Asa learn how to be honest with each other.
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absence makes the heart grow (hungry and neglectful) by batbeech
Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
14 Feb 2026
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Husk reaches into the couch cushions and pulls out the remote like a rabbit from a hat. He pushes the power button. Just like magic, Angel’s gasping cries cut off mid-sound, mercifully plunging the room into silence. Only it's not merciful. It’s a mechanical reminder that none of this is real. Turning the TV off is just another cheap illusion of control.
Or:
Five times Husk watches Angel's films but totally not in that way! he's just a concerned friend!! +1 time where it is very much In That Way
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I'll be your mirror; reflect what you are, in case you don't know.
Crowley drummed his fingers briefly against his mug, and then sat back a little in his chair. He gave Aziraphale a long, appraising glance, and then seemed to come to some decision. “Listen, angel,” he said, “let me pitch you something.”
Lulled by the familiar patter of Crowley’s voice as he was, Aziraphale still recognised this to be vaguely dangerous territory. He swallowed. “Go on,” he said.
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Bookmarked by batbeech
12 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Oh my god? 6000 years of pining while fucking. Aziraphale is written so, so well.
"If Crowley was not a vessel made for love— something that would only slide off him, could find no purchase in his soul— then he could, at least, have pleasure. This was something Aziraphale could pour into him, something that he seemed designed to experience, his eyes alight with it at the slightest touch, and Aziraphale thought that must be better than nothing." *screams*
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The door gave way with a crack, and several large, armed men stepped into the room. They stared at Aziraphale for a long moment. A few glanced at each other, and one muttered something. The closest one drew his sword.
And then a familiar voice said, “Aziraphale?”
Aziraphale is a monk at Lindisfarne. Crowley is a Viking.
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- English
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- 17,093
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Bookmarked by batbeech
10 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Hot springs. Preening. Resigned and hopeful at the same time. Perhaps my fav Aziraphale ever written.
“Better not say that again.” Crowley jerked his chin up. “You’ve got to be careful, angel.”
Aziraphale nodded, watching Crowley go down the stairs and say something to the girl. He knew without being told how this would go. Crowley didn’t want to say goodbye, so Aziraphale would remain here until he left. Then he would take the girl and his books and go down to the shore, and convince a ship to take them back to Britain, where he would pick up a new life. As clean and simple as plucking a blood feather before it caused you to bleed to death.
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Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He stayed like that for a good minute before huffing out a breath. “We’ve been living together for six months,” he finally said.
“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed cautiously.
“I honestly thought you weren’t interested.”
“I thought you weren’t!”
“My God,” said Crowley in a tone of absolute disgust, “we are so fucking stupid, aren’t we?”
Aziraphale wisely kept his mouth shut.
Series
- Part 1 of These Are the Days of Our Lives
Bookmarked by batbeech
10 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
This author understands them wholly and completely. Both of them are so in character, and the lack of top/bottom dichotomy is refreshing
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Summary
Adora worries She-Ra might be 'too much' for Catra in bed. Catra comes up with a plan to prove her wrong.
Series
- Part 2 of Worthy
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- English
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Bookmarked by batbeech
05 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The part of her that’s still Adora is mildly terrified. Here she is, losing control. Doing exactly what she’s tried so hard to avoid. But it feels so fucking good.
Catra’s teeth tug at her ear between urgent, filthy words. “Fuck yes, Adora. Take me harder. Fucking ruin me.”