posted by
nekare at 07:59pm on 16/10/2006 under aziraphale/crowley, drabble, fic, fic:misc, good omens, hp, rl, traveling
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Long-assed post, since I've a lot to say.
First things first: I missed the date, but I was nowhere near a computer yesterday, so whatever. On October 15, 2000, my grandparents celebrated their 40th anniversary, and I, thinking the party would be boring as hell (which it was), bought this yellow book with a goofy-looking boy riding a broom on the cover, the words Harry Potter written in white, thin font over it. So going from having the first edition translation to waiting for three (horrible, anxious) months for PoA to be translated, to reading PP in English for the first time and not understanding anything at all but knowing what it says because I practically knew the Spanish version by heart, to giving up on the Spanish Spanish tranlsation and not even bothering buying OotP and HBP in Spanish, well, it's been a long road. But a most satisfactory one.
Marking points would be, 2000, of course, when I was so obsessed every single thing I saw would remind me of Harry and co., 2002 when I first entered Harrylatino.com, this formus from Argentina where I discovered what fanfic was, and 2005, when I created this LJ solely to post on
scarvesnhats, and started writing half-decent fic in English.
People might say it's a silly book, or that, just a book, but in one way of the other, Harry Potter changed my life, and for that, I'll never forget about it.
*is an utter and complete SAP.*
. Guanajuato was cool, if a little tired. I've always thought this is one of the most picturesque cities in Mexico, and it was raining the entire day, so it looked teh pretty. We didn't have that much time in town, so we just walked around, through some of the most unknown alleys (for those of you that don't know, Guanajuato is an entirely colonial city, and since it's 'patrimony of humanity' or something, it looks pretty much the same as it did 3 hundred years ago. It's very Spanish-looking, it's filled with meter-wide alleys and it has, no shitting, real MUMMIES. They're cool. And dry-looking. Huh.)
The concert started at around 6:30, when we met with this guy my dad met in Casa Tibet, that got dad into that musician, and that looked ready to jump on stage. He's a bit wacko. Anyway, I fell asleep during the first half of the concert. *shifty eyes* The second part was actually really beautiful, but, well, it's this guy and his piano and this other guy and his clarinete. Not exactly my type of music. After it we just got back home, and got here at about 12. It was pretty tiring, really.
Also, I got to drive on an actual highway for the first time. On the rain. HA. (fastest I'd ever done before was 80-90 kms/h)
His name is Leo and I've been crushing on him ever since this semester started. I love going to psychology class because I know I'll spend the entire class flirting with him - or at least, I'm flirting, he could just normally be like that, for all I know. ANYWAY. Today, he goes 'hey, I was going to call you on Saturday, to see if we could go have some coffee, or something, but I remembered I didn't have your number.' (there goes my stomach going flip flop) So I give him my cell, he gives me his, and he keeps on asking where I live, so I end up drawing the way to him. And he asks again if there's a nice coffee shop around here. Wow, this sounds much more forward when written...
We get out of class, and we go along the school doing nothing, as he tags along since I had to take some pictures. He drags me to the, uh, the hardware-like store for different papers and stuff whose name I don't in English, and buys me this pretty as hell Mafalda sticker. (we're both fans, we keep on discussing it together). I go home with this stupid, manic grin on my face.
So why I'm confused? a)because I'm crap at this dating thing. b)because he has a girlfriend. Which he mentions an awful lot (not a word about her today, though). Ugh, ugh, ugh, my most basic principles mark him as unavailable for him. But I don't know, it seems like I actually might have a chance, and... he's funny, and cute, and we keep on doing that fighty-thing where we keep on touching an awful lot? Yeah, that one. *tears out hair*
*is an utter, complete TEEN.*
Eeeep, I'll be surprised if someone actually reads all that O_o
And last, but not least, I missed another date yesterday,
melandry's birthday!! so,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Hope you had an amazing time. :))) And as a present, that drabble I've owed you for ages.
Dress Code
Good Omens – Aziraphale/Crowley sorta. If you squint. – Blue – 353 Words
“Are you really wearing that?” asks Crowley, an eyebrow arched and his sunglasses perched low on his nose, his eyes gleaming a dull yellow. He looks dashing, of course, and the swagger in his steps lets everyone know that he’s aware of it.
“What’s wrong with it?” says Aziraphale apprehensively, smoothing his hands on top of the knitted vest. They’re standing in the middle of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the angel looking as dull and old as the same books he keeps, dusty, on the shelves.
“Well for one thing, you look like you’re dead. Which is a definite no-no when you’ve been invited to the most, say, incendiary party in this century.”
“Oh. Hadn’t thought about that,” Aziraphale says, stroking his chin.
“Also, it’s pink.”
“What’s wrong with pink?”
“What’s not wrong with pink, you mean.” Crowley gestures with his free hand, the other one moving his car keys anxiously, as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the moldy store. He does have a rather close relationship with plants, if he may think so, but things growing out of thin air on old pages? Not exactly his cup of tea. “Go change. Now.”
Aziraphale sighs. “Come on, Crowley dear, it’s not like you even care about what I’m wearing. You’re just dying to see if the groom’s father will show up for the weeding.”
“Damn right, I am. And if don’t hurry up, angel, I won’t get to see if old Lucifer’s gonna show up with his entire court.”
Aziraphale mutters something along the lines ‘Good grace, that antichrist boy’s not going to like this at all, and starts taking off the offensive garment without that much of a struggle.
“But I don’t even know what else to wear,” he says with another sigh, and Crowley rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers. Aziraphale blinks, and then he’s dressed in a blue suit that would look stunning in a mannequin, but looks just sort of bland on him. He tends to have that effect on things. He blinks again.
“There,” Crowley says as he tightens Aziraphale’s tie. “After all, blue’s your color.”
First things first: I missed the date, but I was nowhere near a computer yesterday, so whatever. On October 15, 2000, my grandparents celebrated their 40th anniversary, and I, thinking the party would be boring as hell (which it was), bought this yellow book with a goofy-looking boy riding a broom on the cover, the words Harry Potter written in white, thin font over it. So going from having the first edition translation to waiting for three (horrible, anxious) months for PoA to be translated, to reading PP in English for the first time and not understanding anything at all but knowing what it says because I practically knew the Spanish version by heart, to giving up on the Spanish Spanish tranlsation and not even bothering buying OotP and HBP in Spanish, well, it's been a long road. But a most satisfactory one.
Marking points would be, 2000, of course, when I was so obsessed every single thing I saw would remind me of Harry and co., 2002 when I first entered Harrylatino.com, this formus from Argentina where I discovered what fanfic was, and 2005, when I created this LJ solely to post on
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
People might say it's a silly book, or that, just a book, but in one way of the other, Harry Potter changed my life, and for that, I'll never forget about it.
*is an utter and complete SAP.*
. Guanajuato was cool, if a little tired. I've always thought this is one of the most picturesque cities in Mexico, and it was raining the entire day, so it looked teh pretty. We didn't have that much time in town, so we just walked around, through some of the most unknown alleys (for those of you that don't know, Guanajuato is an entirely colonial city, and since it's 'patrimony of humanity' or something, it looks pretty much the same as it did 3 hundred years ago. It's very Spanish-looking, it's filled with meter-wide alleys and it has, no shitting, real MUMMIES. They're cool. And dry-looking. Huh.)
The concert started at around 6:30, when we met with this guy my dad met in Casa Tibet, that got dad into that musician, and that looked ready to jump on stage. He's a bit wacko. Anyway, I fell asleep during the first half of the concert. *shifty eyes* The second part was actually really beautiful, but, well, it's this guy and his piano and this other guy and his clarinete. Not exactly my type of music. After it we just got back home, and got here at about 12. It was pretty tiring, really.
Also, I got to drive on an actual highway for the first time. On the rain. HA. (fastest I'd ever done before was 80-90 kms/h)
His name is Leo and I've been crushing on him ever since this semester started. I love going to psychology class because I know I'll spend the entire class flirting with him - or at least, I'm flirting, he could just normally be like that, for all I know. ANYWAY. Today, he goes 'hey, I was going to call you on Saturday, to see if we could go have some coffee, or something, but I remembered I didn't have your number.' (there goes my stomach going flip flop) So I give him my cell, he gives me his, and he keeps on asking where I live, so I end up drawing the way to him. And he asks again if there's a nice coffee shop around here. Wow, this sounds much more forward when written...
We get out of class, and we go along the school doing nothing, as he tags along since I had to take some pictures. He drags me to the, uh, the hardware-like store for different papers and stuff whose name I don't in English, and buys me this pretty as hell Mafalda sticker. (we're both fans, we keep on discussing it together). I go home with this stupid, manic grin on my face.
So why I'm confused? a)because I'm crap at this dating thing. b)because he has a girlfriend. Which he mentions an awful lot (not a word about her today, though). Ugh, ugh, ugh, my most basic principles mark him as unavailable for him. But I don't know, it seems like I actually might have a chance, and... he's funny, and cute, and we keep on doing that fighty-thing where we keep on touching an awful lot? Yeah, that one. *tears out hair*
*is an utter, complete TEEN.*
Eeeep, I'll be surprised if someone actually reads all that O_o
And last, but not least, I missed another date yesterday,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Hope you had an amazing time. :))) And as a present, that drabble I've owed you for ages.
Dress Code
Good Omens – Aziraphale/Crowley sorta. If you squint. – Blue – 353 Words
“Are you really wearing that?” asks Crowley, an eyebrow arched and his sunglasses perched low on his nose, his eyes gleaming a dull yellow. He looks dashing, of course, and the swagger in his steps lets everyone know that he’s aware of it.
“What’s wrong with it?” says Aziraphale apprehensively, smoothing his hands on top of the knitted vest. They’re standing in the middle of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the angel looking as dull and old as the same books he keeps, dusty, on the shelves.
“Well for one thing, you look like you’re dead. Which is a definite no-no when you’ve been invited to the most, say, incendiary party in this century.”
“Oh. Hadn’t thought about that,” Aziraphale says, stroking his chin.
“Also, it’s pink.”
“What’s wrong with pink?”
“What’s not wrong with pink, you mean.” Crowley gestures with his free hand, the other one moving his car keys anxiously, as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the moldy store. He does have a rather close relationship with plants, if he may think so, but things growing out of thin air on old pages? Not exactly his cup of tea. “Go change. Now.”
Aziraphale sighs. “Come on, Crowley dear, it’s not like you even care about what I’m wearing. You’re just dying to see if the groom’s father will show up for the weeding.”
“Damn right, I am. And if don’t hurry up, angel, I won’t get to see if old Lucifer’s gonna show up with his entire court.”
Aziraphale mutters something along the lines ‘Good grace, that antichrist boy’s not going to like this at all, and starts taking off the offensive garment without that much of a struggle.
“But I don’t even know what else to wear,” he says with another sigh, and Crowley rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers. Aziraphale blinks, and then he’s dressed in a blue suit that would look stunning in a mannequin, but looks just sort of bland on him. He tends to have that effect on things. He blinks again.
“There,” Crowley says as he tightens Aziraphale’s tie. “After all, blue’s your color.”
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