5 Works by EarlGrey13
Listing Works
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I Don't Forgive You (But Please Don't Hold Me To It) by EarlGrey13
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
19 Jan 2026
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Summary
Crowley drove away in the Bentley, his knuckles white at nine and five on the steering wheel. He let up on the gas once he cleared the Soho crowds, obeying the speed limit and stopping at all the traffic signs. The radio, fearing for its life, was quiet.
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You Can Hear it in the Silence (You Can See it With the Lights Out) by EarlGrey13
Fandoms: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
14 Dec 2025
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Summary
Lucy and Lockwood were up at odd hours on a fairly regular basis, but it felt secret and special to putter around the kitchen together while the rest of the house was supposed to be asleep.
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The kitten seemed as surprised as any of them to suddenly find itself on their kitchen table. It wasn’t much taller than Lockwood’s steaming mug of Pitkin’s Best and began to sniff experimentally at the ceramic. It was a tottering creature with a pair of green bug eyes which seemed slightly too large for its head. Its calico fur was indeed wet and plastered to its body, which served to make the kitten seem smaller and more gangly than it already was. As they watched, it lifted a muddy paw and thoughtfully padded the surface of Lockwood’s tea. Lockwood’s eye twitched.
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Summary
There it was again, a slight hitch in his voice that Arthur couldn’t quite hide. The prince turned like he was suddenly very interested in the tree branches out his narrow window. He rested his cheek in his palm and used his pinky finger to quickly swipe away a tear. It was an efficient and practiced gesture and Merlin might not have noticed if he didn’t spend so much time, well, staring at Arthur.
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Just to Sit Outside Your Door by EarlGrey13
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
29 Jan 2025
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Summary
Crowley had built up a tolerance to Aziraphale’s secretive, cat-with-the-cream smiles. There was just enough plausible deniability there, a grey area of affection he was comfortable with. Some days Crowley told himself that Aziraphale just looked at everyone like that. He was an angel, he was built to love, he gifted trees and birds and mothers pushing baby carriages with the same expression.
Those days were now decidedly over. It turned out that Aziraphale had been restraining a great deal more than his smiles over the millennia. Now that he had decided he was allowed to, that they were sufficiently safe from Heaven’s gaze, the angel doted.