#in a way that Good Omens didn't for me? like Good Omens absolutely had a vision and drive to it

[tonyglowheart]

okay so turns out we only finished 2 episodes of Sandman yesterday lmao not 3

so we finished ep 4 today

and. hey so apparently it's supposed to get good at some point right... :')

[mollyrealized]

How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.”  I mean, this is … what … '88?  '88, '89.  So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books.  Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No."  And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story.  And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy."  Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick.  Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe.  Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman.  And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA.  And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary. 

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.”  You know, “This is eel.  This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"  

We'd finished, so we pay our bill.  And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil.  And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be –  it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months.  So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course."  I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.”  But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well.  And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up.  And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God.  Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”.  I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah.  Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard.  I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you. 

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Neil Gaiman, I write to say you have ruined me; again. Four times in my life I have been utterly and hopelessly rotted and ruined and consumed by your work. First was when I was 4 and first watched Coraline, I didn't even know who you were and couldn't conceive it either way back then; but I remember watching the movie so much until the disc scratched, and making my mum buy me a coraline doll and lalaloopsy dolls that reminded me of it. Then when I was 12, when season one of good omens came out, and I immediately found out it was a book (WHAT?? IT'S A BOOK?? I NEED TO READ IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)(I read it), and it was all I could find myself speaking about for months. This year when season 2 came out, I was absolutely heartbroken, and this altered my brain in a way I had never even dreamed possible; everything clicked that the common denominator in making me go insane was *you*, so I followed you on tumblr and everywhere I could and I made it my life's mission to read more of your books. First, as soon as I could, I read The Neil Gaiman Reader in two days and it was SO GOOD (and returned it to the library as soon as I finished), and I knew instantly I had to get The Ocean At The End Of The Lane. Only trouble is, where I live has basically no books, of anyone's, ever, so I searched probably five different bookshops until I found it and I immediately got it. I wasn't allowed to read it till Christmas though. Then Christmas day came, the day I had hyped up in my head for so long, simply because I got to read this book, so in one sitting on Christmas, I read the ocean at the end of the lane. I think I have found a new obsession to occupy my brain. How do you write all of these things? How do you inspire these feelings? I feel like you have a kind of magic to you. I have spent basically the whole day since googling everything I can about this novel (and hoping, wishing and praying that the play will return and come to Western Australia some day), but now I have the VERY URGENT request of answering my questions please please please pretty please. 1) What are some things you wish people knew about The Ocean At The End Of The Lane that they don't know already? 2)What are questions that you want people to ask about it, but haven't yet? 3) Where did you get all of the magic and emotion and EVERYTHING encapsulated those pages? - Yours sincerely, an extremely obsessed high school senior.

Dear E.O.H.S.S.

I'm really happy it had that effect on you. Now we both have to hope that the National Theatre adaptation of The Ocean at the End of the Lane gets revived and makes it to Australia, because most of your questions are sort of answered in the play.

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[nofomogirl]

Good Omen's problem with having two canons

They're fundamentally different. That's the problem. That's my point.

For quite a while I focused almost exclusively on the new season of Good Omens, but now I am slowly delving into analysis that takes the entire show into account, and I've encountered a little obstacle. Namely, things from S1 can be really tricky to interpret.

Fair warning: this post is going to zig-zag between various points but I want you to trust me and take this scenic route with me. It will take us somewhere eventually, I promise.

The Arrangement

It's one of the core elements in the Good Omens universe and at the same time a perfect example of the issue I want to discuss. So let's have a closer look together.

In the book, the Arrangement is presented to us in two passages:

the first one, where it is first - very briefly - mentioned:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be.

and the second one, where it is properly introduced and explained:

The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact, that it didn't really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other's activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary. (...) And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It'd get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.

In the show, the Arrangement is presented to us in two original scenes in the cold opening of S1E3:

(I am quoting most relevant dialogues only)

537 AD, Wessex:

C: So we're both working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out? A: Well, you could put it like that. It is a bit damp. C: Be easier if we both stayed home. If we just send messages back to our head offices saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it? A: But that would be lying. C: Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same. Cancel each other out. A: But my dear fellow... well, they'd check. Michael's a bit of a stickler. You don't want to get Gabriel upset with you. C: Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get paperwork they seem happy enough. As long as you're being seen doing something every now and again. A: No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. We're not having that conversation, not another word!

1601 AD, The Globe Theatre:

A: I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform. (...) C: I'm meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle. A: Doesn't sound like hard work. C: That's why I thought we should... Well, bit of a waste of effort, both of us going all the way to Scotland. A: You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer that you are implying. C: Which is? A: That just one of us goes to Edingburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting. C: We've done it before. Dozens of times now. The Arrangement- A: Don't say that! C: Our respective offices don't actually care how things get done. They just want to know they can cross it off the list.

S2 doesn't actually reference the Arrangement. But it does reuse the dialogue about free will where the 1020 date is dropped. We will get back to it.

The challenge of adapting Good Omens

Good Omens shares a certain characteristic with all of Terry Pratchett's solo books I've read - it couldn't care less about "showing instead of telling". Which I love, just to be clear. A book is a written medium. It's made with words and one of words' major strengths is that you can use them to just tell things point blanc.

Good Omens does it a lot and it's fantastic.

Look at that second passage from the book I quoted earlier.

From just those few sentences we learn a lot about the relationships between:

Heaven and Hell (opponents and competition)

Aziraphale and Crowley (two individuals in the same position and in direct contact with each other)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Heaven/Hell (field agent and a remote HQ that are not in direct contact)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Earth (two individuals and a space they live in)

Heaven/Hell and Earth (a board where the game is played, only winning or losing matters, what actually happens on a board does not)

It's really an extra condensed worldbuilding gem sprinkled with humor, so it's no surprise it's become one of the most iconic passages from the book.

I mean, just browse through some interviews with David and Michael - especially the ones from 2019 - where they explain what Aziraphale and Crowley are about. You'll be hard-pressed to find any where they don't reference that specific paragraph, consciously or otherwise.

But it's only this neat on the pages of the book, where narration like this takes mere seconds to absorb. It's impossible to convey the same information in a visual medium with anywhere near the same efficiency.

The fact that the majority of Good Omens is like this was, in my opinion, a main challenge the adaptation faced. The book is very narration-heavy. It's full of fun facts about characters, side jokes, hilarious comments, etc. Some of that precious material was salvaged by introducing God as a narrator, but there was only so much of it you could squeeze into a TV show. The rest had to either be fit into dialogues or lost in translation from the written medium to the visual one.

Obviously, in the case of the Arrangement, it was the dialogues.

Book canon and show canon

We all know they're not the same. Neil Gaiman also pointed it out several times. But I think our mistake is that we still tend to think about them as complementary.

Look at the Arrangement again. The show canon seems to merely expand on the book canon. Add extra details and fill in the blanks. The Arrangement works the exact same way, except now we also know more about how it started.

If we compile what we know from the book with what we know from the show, we get a more detailed timeline:

Crowley first proposes the Arrangement in 537 (show).

The Arrangement starts in 1020 (book), ie. Aziraphale finally agrees to it (show - deduction); we don't know for sure if it's a "basic version" (not getting in each other's way), or a "full version" (doing each other's jobs) but we can assume it's the former.

In 1601 "full version" of the Arrangement is in place for some time (they've done it dozens of times) but Aziraphale still objects and needs convincing.

But read that description from a book once more.

Does it really fit into the version of events shown in the TV series?

The Arrangement in the book is something that just happened. A natural, and in a way inevitable result of Aziraphale and Crowley's circumstances. We are never told who came up with it first because it doesn't matter. Because it could have been either of them. Because after five millennia on Earth, they were both ready to do it. They were both of the same mind. For all we know it might have been an unspoken agreement all along!

But for the show, the creators had to come up with a good reason for the Arrangement to be discussed out loud. And what could be a more natural situation for someone to describe and explain an idea than trying to sell that idea to someone else?

For that practical reason - among many others, no doubt - the Arrangement is not only explicitly Crowley's idea, but an idea Aziraphale vehemently rejects at first. He needs to be convinced and even when he finally relents he's never entirely comfortable with it. He keeps objecting and it requires Crowley's constant effort for them to keep cooperating in any way.

The fact that Aziraphale is reluctant gives Crowley a perfect reason to keep convincing him ie. talk about the Arrangement. But the fact that he needs to explain and keep convincing Aziraphale means that Aziraphale is no longer a person who understands the same things and feels the same way.

That is a huge change.

Of course, you may say that what I've written about the Arrangement in the book is just my interpretation. It's true that technically there's nothing there that would contradict the events from the show in any way. The thing is, the events in the show aren't very compatible with the overall characterization of the ineffable duo in the book.

Evolution of Aziraphale and Crowley

You might have read that our leading pair was originally conceived as a single character that Neil and Terry eventually decided to split into two separate individuals.

My reaction when I first learned about it was: "Of course they were! That makes so much sense!" Because honestly, as a person who watched the show first and then read the book, I was surprised at how few differences there were between the two in the original text. If you squint your eyes really tight, you can see how book!Aziraphale and book!Crowley are two versions of the same character. They're far more similar than their show versions.

Most importantly, their attitudes toward Heaven and Hell are pretty much identical. Perfectly mirrored in every regard. What Hell is for Crowley, Heaven is for Aziraphale. What Hell is for Aziraphale, Heaven is for Crowley. In. Every. Possible. Way.

Allow me to present some evidence from the book.

Exhibit #1: the end of the scene where Crowley convinces Aziraphale to interfere with Warlock's upbringing

'You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?' he said slowly. 'Potentially evil. Potentially good too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped,' said Crowley. He shrugged. 'Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that.' 'I suppose it's got to be worth a try,' said the angel. Crowley nodded encouragingly. 'Agreed?' said the demon, holding out his hand. The angel shook it, cautiously. 'It'll certainly be more interesting than saints,' he said. 'And it'll be for the child's own good, in the long run,' said Crowley. (...)

When Crowley first points out that good and evil are just names for sides, and then insists it's something they both know, Aziraphale doesn't react in any way. That's because these aren't things that book!Aziraphale disagrees with. He does indeed know it and doesn't deny it.

Also, please note just how cynical the angel is here with his comment that influencing the Antichrist would be a more interesting project than influencing saints!

Both would be rather OOC for show!Aziraphale.

Exhibit #2: the scene just after Warlock Dowling's birthday party, when it becomes evident he is not the Antichrist

'You said it was him!' moaned Aziraphale (...) 'It was him,' said Crowley. (...) 'Then someone else must be interfering.' 'There isn't anyone else! There's just us, right? Good and Evil. One side or the other.' He thumped the steering wheel. 'You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there,' he said. 'I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to you up there,' said Aziraphale. 'Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy,' said Crowley sourly. 'Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?' 'Sure' said the demon. 'There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-' 'I meant afterwards.' 'Oh.'

Can you imagine this kind of exchange in the TV series? Can you imagine show!Aziraphale being this realistic about Heaven, and show!Crowley so naive about it? There's no way.

Show!Aziraphale genuinely believes that Heaven is good at its core.

Book!Aziraphale knows Heaven isn't any different than Hell and would punish him just as ruthlessly and unfairly as Hell would Crowley.

Show!Crowley understands both Heaven and Hell on a very deep level and is highly aware of their true nature.

Book!Crowley buys a piece of celestial propaganda about ineffable mercy and actually expects Heaven to be forgiving.

Let the magnitude of that difference sink.

Exhibit #3: same scene, a bit further

'So all we've got to do is find it,' said Crowley. 'Go through the hospital records.' The Bentley's engine coughed into life and the car leapt forward, forcing Aziraphale back into the seat. 'And then what?' he said. 'And then we find the child.' 'And then what?' The angel shut his eyes as the car crabbed around the corner. 'Don't know.' 'Good grief.' 'I suppose (...) your people wouldn't consider (...) giving me asylum?' 'I was going to ask you the same thing. (...)'

This is just a cherry on top, really.

Yes, in the book, when things go pear-shaped, both Aziraphale and Crowley consider seeking asylum on the opposite side.

Do you need more proof that book canon and show canon really aren't as compatible as they may seem?

Free will

As promised, let's get back to that dialogue because while it may not be obvious at first glance it really illustrates perfectly the problem arising from balancing between two canons.

Here is the full quote from the book:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked. Crowley had thought about it for some time and, around about 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, OK? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle. Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic. No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.

And here, for comparison, is how it was reused in S2E3:

A: There is a stolen body in that barrel! This is wicked! C: Oh, I'm down with wicked! Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money. A: That is irrelevant. Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked. She is wicked. C: Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle. A: Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. So Elspeth here has all the opportunities because she's so poor. C: That's lunacy. A: No, that's ineffable.

I'll be honest with you - I didn't like that scene in the show. It felt jarring and off. Aziraphale was acting like it was his first day on Earth and it was frustrating to watch.

Then, on one of the rewatches, just as I was rolling my eyes at "that's ineffable", a bulb lit in my brain. That line didn't work there because it wasn't created to be there! In the book and in S1 "it's ineffable" was kind of Aziraphale's catchphrase but in S2 it only appears this once. More importantly, in the book and S1, the fact that the angel would say that was all a build-up to the scene when he threw it in Heaven's face at the Tadfield Airbase. Using that word in S2 was like trying to make a running joke that has already reached its destination run again.

And just like that one line the entire dialogue didn't fit because it wasn't meant to be there. It was created for an entirely different context.

What's the difference?

Firstly, book!husbands' conviction was very shallow and it wasn't uncommon for both of them to spout slogans without meaning them. Therefore, book!Aziraphale's words didn't carry that much weight. The very fact that the conversation took place at the same time they formed the Arrangement tells us something about how serious he was. But show!Aziraphale's relationship with his beliefs is different, so when he says things like that it's a much bigger deal.

Secondly, the book explicitly states that Aziraphale and Crowley only developed free will on Earth, due to extended exposure to mankind. The show never really makes a stand on the matter but based on what we've seen so far I think we can safely assume that angels and demons are capable of making their own choices as much as humans do.

In other words, in its original context, the conversation was just Aziraphale talking about a concept he didn't fully grasp, quoting propaganda he didn't fully subscribe to. He was being ignorant and mildly obnoxious in an endearing way.

But using the same dialogue verbatim in the Resurrectionist carried a completely different meaning. Aziraphale who utters it in the show has no reason to be so ignorant about free will. Aziraphale who utters it in the show genuinely tries to defend Heaven. Most importantly, Aziraphale who utters it in the show, doesn't just idly bicker with his friend about general things but is judging an actual human individual that's right in front of them. That, more than anything else, makes it sound heartless and ignorant.

What is the problem with having two canons, exactly?

It's time to wrap things up.

In the opening paragraphs, I've mentioned that I've noticed the issue while interpreting scenes from S1, and yes, that was the case and I do believe that the existence of two canons is especially problematic for S1. That's because pretty much every scene in S1 is potentially like that dialogue about free will in S2, except subtler and harder to spot.

A grand majority of what we see and hear in S1 comes directly from the book. But while words and actions were kept, in some instances things that gave them their original meaning might no longer be valid in the show universe. Sometimes they easily take new meaning, and we don't even notice. But sometimes there's this dissonance that's not as easy to work around.

S1 deviated from the book and created its own canon. But the difference didn't seem to go very deep and it seemed perfectly reasonable to use some trivia from the book to shed some extra light on the content of the show. I used to do it in my head, even though I was aware of the changes that were made.

But S2 expanded the show canon so far beyond what was in the book that I'm really not sure it makes sense to compile them anymore.

There are a lot of things that were only explicitly stated in the book that I keep clinging to. But perhaps it's time to let go...

Thank you for your patience.

I know all of the above isn't exactly a revolutionary discovery, but I needed to get it off my chest before writing anything else.

[v0rewhxre]

Your writing is so good, pls keep it up! Also if possible could you do headcanons or smth for Noah taking the reader (his so/gf) virginity ?

Of Course!!!

I will write it as a head cannon!

18+ MDNI

CW: [protected p in v, mentions of m and reader oral, slight praising, mention of condoms and lube, mentions of penetration, mentions of sexual positions, mentions of taking virginity, implied unprotected p in v]

This one was a little harder for me to write cause my first time was absolutely terrible! I hope y'all enjoy it :)

You were always embarrassed that you had waited so long to have sex, but you trusted that waiting for the right person was the correct path for you. And when you started dating your boyfriend, Noah, you felt the timing was correct.

Noah knew it was a big deal, but didn't want to make you feel 'othered' cause of your choice to wait. He would never push for anything, and you often pulled away when things got a little too intense. But one day, you just WANTED Noah and you wanted ALL of him.

You took an everything shower for the first time and boy was it TEDIOUS! You shaved everything, used exfoliant, washed your hair, washed your body, and made sure everything was smelling perfect. You used lotion on your entire body, brushed your hair, and put comfortable clothes complete with cute undergarments that you knew Noah would love.

Noah also spent a lot of time preparing. He made sure his room was spotless and lit your favorite candle. He grabbed a towel just in case there were sex juices everywhere. And of course, his bed had clean sheets and was nicely made. Noah took his everything shower, though not as intensely as yours, he wanted to make sure he smelt great. Noah bought you flowers, placing them in a vase on his desk. He wanted to make it a big deal, but not draw too much attention to the big moment that was about to take place.

Of course Noah had the most perfect playlist, full of all your favorite slower songs and some he added for their sensuality. He even threw a few Bad Omens songs in there for haha's to lighten the mood.

When you arrived, you felt awkward for the first time in your relationship with Noah. The air was a little heavier, and you were on edge. Noah gave you small touches as you made your way to his room, putting his hand on the small of your back and holding your hand. When you walked in your heart filled with love. He bought you tulips, your favorite flower, and the room smelled so heavenly that you felt you were floating on a cloud. He even had your favorite song playing quietly in the background. His LED's were set on white, but were dimmed to a lower level.

You were very nervous. Noah gave you lots of kisses, even humming along with the playlist to keep the nerves down. He was very verbal in asking if you wanted to continue, making sure you consented to each thing he did. He asked if certain things felt good, adjusted if it didn't. He tried to give you oral, but you weren't quite comfortable with that intimacy yet.

You weren't quite confident in doing things for Noah. You had given him oral a few times, and had even snuck a few handjobs at the movies but never when you were this nervous. Noah was patient and kind as you figured out the rhythms and movements he needed, praising you with 'Like that, yes I love that' and 'Good girl'.

Noah bought 'For Them' condoms to make sure there were all the ridges for extra pleasure for his partner. He wanted to make sure you felt as good as possible. The condom also had lube on it, and he even bought more lube on the side just in case. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect, pleasurable, and comfortable as possible.

When it was finally time, Noah entered you very slowly. You were in missionary, a classic first sexual position and one where Noah had control to please you. At first he put just the tip in, and moved inch by inch until you took him all the way in. You were slightly embarrassed by your body's reaction, it wasn't something you had experienced yet, but Noah didn't seem to mind. He waited a few minutes for you to adjust, receiving a verbal cue that you were ready.

As he proceeded to do slow soft thrusts for a few minutes, your body needed him in different ways. Your nerves were replaced by pleasure you had never experienced. It was deeper, more intense, and you wanted to chase the feeling for eternity. Noah gave you soft kisses the entire time but once you bit his lip and started practically sucking his face, Noah understood. His pace quickened, thrusts becoming harder and deeper. And Oh that felt GREAT.

You had always heard losing your virginity could be painful and usually you wouldn't feel pleasure, but what society didn't always mention is that it could be amazing when you loved/trusted someone. And you loved and trusted Noah a lot.

"I think I am gonna cum" you whispered in Noah's ear. You weren't really sure, but the way your body felt and the noises coming from under the blanket were evident something was near.

"Me too" is all you heard before you both crashed over the edge. You moaned so loudly that you were sure his roommates heard, but you did not care because Noah also moaned just as loudly. You came together, with Noah's lips pressed to yours. His thrusts were sloppy but still worked you through the orgasm you had.

When the pleasure dulled, and you were both panting, you looked in his eyes and said "Thanks for making that special, I love you" and Noah responded "I love you more than I love anything, thanks for making my life feel special".

Noah provided the best aftercare ever, using the towel to clean you up. He made sure that you peed afterwards. He ran a bath for you to relax in, allowing your body to 'cool' down. Of course... the bath was the perfect opportunity to practice riding Noah...

**********************************************

Hope you enjoy!

[narcissistcookbook]

Hi! I just found your Tumblr and I love your music! I have to ask, what was going through your mind when you made the 'apple' song? I absolutely love it so much! I love the beginning where it's a conversation between Eve and Lucifer, then the breakdown of him singing! Just the storytelling is amazing! So I really wanted to know what was your thought process through the song :3 🫶

thank you! 💜

I ran a songwriting workshop for a while, and much like @jammechanics today I'd set writing prompts for the group and myself. The prompt that week was apple, and I wrote two tracks - the first was a rough draft of Apple, and then when that didn't come together in time I wrote a dumb Prince pastiche called Golden Delicious

I've always been attracted (in a secular way for the most part) to Christian mythology/imagery and broad mysticism. I was raised atheist and didn't attend church except once a year early on as part of school, and it's so fundamentally strange as a secular child to hear this mishmash of stories indistinguishable from fairytales - the garden of eden, noah, the nativity, the crucifixion - except these ones are presented in a deeply formal context and are meant to be real.

That sounds super r/atheist of me, but that isn't how I mean it. I was sincerely intrigued by the stories and, since they were presented as Things That Actually Happened, I had a bunch of questions about the lore implications of the more abstract stories that no one could really answer. Why did the wise men follow a star? Why did the angels appear to a bunch of shepherds? Why don't angels appear anymore? Why was God such a tetchy butthole in the garden of eden? What was so bad about the apple and the tree? Was the snake the devil, because those guys are by far the most interesting characters in all of these stories and why aren't they featured more? Snake spinoff when?

So I guess I'd been writing that extended Snake/Eve fanfic in the back of my mind for ages. That specific interaction is meant to be the inciting incident at the root of the entirety of human history, and it's just brushed past in the most unsatisfying way.

To answer some other questions around Apple: no I haven't read or seen Good Omens; yes 'It's Dark Materials' is a reference to Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials; the snake calls God 'It' in a dehumanising way because It's literally not human and isn't there something unsettling about an extradimensional, incomprehensible entity going i̵m̷ ̷a̵ ̴b̷o̵y̵ ̷l̵o̸l̸

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

a good omens grieving update because if I'm crying at 5 am you better be too.

Good morning, maggoty loves of mine. Despite all attempts to distract myself and you all with wedding cakes and dresses and textposts, it is five in the fucking morning, and I've been crying for half an hour already.

I'm listening to the Pentatonix cover of Hallelujah on loop and I will never be normal about anything ever again and there is nothing you, I, God, Satan or even Neil can do about it.

@mirrorleaf was kind enough to hijack my stupid royal family post with this fucking gorgeous edit of season 1 set to Hallelujah. Thank you, I'm now fucking sobbing and I found another edit again of season 1 and then I read fics and now I'm NOT FUCKING OKAY.

All the times Aziraphale looks up to Heaven and prays, how hopeful and desperate he is, and then the way he looks at Crowley while he's pinned against the wall, entirely calm and sure and safe.

And the song playing with Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah over Crowley crying over alcohol when he thought Aziraphale had died. I'm not okay.

I need to watch season 1 again. When I watched it first, it was in two installments with you maggots on livestream, and the first installment was like two days after I was kidnapped as Mascot of Good Omens. Needless to say, it was all a fever dream.

Then I watched this edit now and there's so much. There's so much fucking layers and emotion and nuance that I didn't notice. And it's absolutely going to wreck me and then I'll have to rewatch season 2 and by then I'll have no self-preservation and I'll have read the book and I'll never ever be okay again and I'll have to live with it.

You all really just found a guy on the internet and fucking wrecked him, huh. This fandom really just did that. Now salt and pepper shakers made me think about Crowley's Fall and the inherent transience of human nature and The angel you knew is not me.

It hurts. I thought I was ridiculous about Drarry. No I was entirely fucking reasonable about Drarry. This is a gut punch except to the throat. Repeatedly.

I remember when I made a post a day or two after finishing season 2 and someone, @thescholarlystrumpet it was probably you, told me that grief isn't a linear process and to take care. To anyone outside this broken fandom, that would seem like a disproportional response to a show's season 2 finale when we know that it will end happily. Everyone in this fandom knows how much that reminder is needed, though.

Besides, though we know that the show ends happily, we know that Aziraphale and Crowley will be together and it is inevitable, how does it still fucking hurt so much? I knew all the spoilers, technically, of the show before I started, and it still surprised me with the emotions.

I had to stop writing this post for a few minutes because an image came to my mind and I had to sketch it. Of how I'd felt when I came here, lonely and frightened, and how the fandom grabbed me and forced me to watch the show and how much it hurts and how beautiful it is and how it feels like a mirror. A shattered mirror, one that's soaked with all our blood and tears, but it showed me I wasn't alone. So here, have this brief sketch and do NOT come at with about pretentiousness my beloved maggots because for one, I have always aspired to be pretentious and for another, THE SUN HASN'T FUCKING RISEN AND I'VE BEEN IN TEARS WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

Congratulations, the next time anyone asks you if you've ever killed anyone, every one of you can confidently say that yes, you are indeed directly responsible for murder. My blood is on your hands, motherfuckers, you adopted a Mascot and then killed him.

[mimisempai]

Reading your love on every card

Summary

While wandering around the bookshop, Muriel comes across a strange tarot deck. Showing it to Crowley, he discovers that he's on every card, without exception. It seems his angel has some explaining to do.

Notes

My way of repairing the fact that the Lover's card has become The duo in the official Good Omens game.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1099 words

"Oh, what's this?"

Aziraphale barely looked up, vaguely wondering what Muriel had discovered during one of their bookshop musings. But his book was really exciting and he didn't want to interrupt his reading.

"I'm going to go see what our little nosy bee has discovered."

Crowley rose from the sofa, gave Aziraphale a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and walked over to where Muriel was standing.

Aziraphale hummed and resumed his reading.

Until he was interrupted by Crowley's exclamations, "But it's me, isn't it? It is me, isn't it? On these cards!"

Muriel replied, "I don't think there are many demons with that eye and hair color."

Crowley continued, "Wait, The Moon! That's my face on the inside of the moon!"

Muriel replied, "Oh, and there, The Emperor, even without the hair and eye color, that smug look is totally you!"

"You cheeky little thing!!!"

Muriel giggled as Crowley continued, "Wahoo, even the Empress is me!"

"Absolutely gorgeous I must say."

Crowley chuckled softly and replied, "Thank you, I forgive your earlier impertinence, little bee."

Aziraphale suddenly felt like leaving, knowing exactly what Muriel had found.

An ancient Tarot deck, and not just any old one.

One he'd crafted years, if not decades, ago.

They were both right, for on every card, without exception, was Crowley, whether clearly visible or in metaphorical form.

Muriel chuckled again before saying, "Oh... The World would almost make me blush. It doesn't hide much of your anatomy."

Crowley grumbled, "Give me the cards! Now!"

Aziraphale sank further into his chair as Crowley called to him, "Angel, a word, please?"

"I think it's time for me to go have a nice hot chocolate at Nina's... I've got so much to tell her."

Aziraphale, his cheeks now burning, hid his head in his hands as Crowley shouted, "You little..."

Only Muriel's laughter answered him, followed by rapid footsteps and the sound of the bookshop door opening and closing.

What he hadn't heard were Crowley's footsteps as he approached, so he flinched slightly as the demon's hands settled on his wrists. 

"Angel, don't hide from me, please." 

He tugged gently on the angel's wrists, pulling his hands away from his face and leaving him with no choice but to look at Crowley, who had crouched in front of him.

But instead of the annoyance he'd expected to read on the demon's face, Aziraphale was surprised to see a mixture of wonder and amusement.

Crowley asked softly, "When?"

The angel couldn't help but blush as he replied, "1941, after Will Goldstone's death, many things from his magic shop were sold or given away, and among them was an old fortune-telling tarot deck."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and said softly, "I know when, now I'd really like to know why."

Aziraphale shook his head before lowering it, but Crowley would have none of it and grabbed the angel's chin, forcing him to look at him before continuing just as gently, "Come on, Angel, it can't be anything bad."

Aziraphale replied, "Bad, no, but ridiculous, yes, absolutely. After we met in 1941, I missed you so much that I saw you everywhere. In everything I did, all the music, all the paintings, all the sculptures reminded me of you. So of course I saw you even in an old tarot deck when I looked at 

The Moon, The World, The Emperor, The Empress, The Star, The Universe - Crowley?"

This time it was Crowley who had hidden his face in the angel's lap.

"Angel, you can't confess something like that to me without warning."

Aziraphale put his hands in Crowley's hair and leaned over him, saying amusedly, "You're the one who wanted to know."

Crowley mumbled something Aziraphale didn't understand, so he took the demon's face between his hands and, raising his head, asked, "Again, my dear, I didn't understand."

Crowley repeated audibly this time, "Did you miss me that much?"

Aziraphale bluntly replied, "As much as you can miss someone when you've just discovered how much you love them.

Crowley just murmured, "Oh, Angel..."

He straightened up a bit to bring his face closer to the angel's and whispered, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "Every time I think I can't love you more, but every time you do or say something like this, it proves me wrong."

He pushed the angel into the back of the armchair, then straddled his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck before capturing Aziraphale's lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

A little later, it wasn't shortness of breath that forced them apart, but Muriel, whom they hadn't heard return, exclaiming, "Nina was right!"

Since the angel had surely seen them kiss, Crowley did not bother to get up from Aziraphale's lap and turned to Muriel, who had one of the cards in their hand, and asked, "And what did our dear barista queen of Whickber Street gossip say?"

Muriel, with a flash of cheek in their eyes, replied with a smile, "That since Aziraphale was head over heels for you, it was clear he'd drawn you both for the Lovers card."

They flipped the card over to the angel and the demon, and Crowley could see that there was no doubt that Nina was right; it was indeed him and Aziraphale on the card. He felt the angel press his face against his back and chuckled softly as Muriel continued, "She promised me a second free hot chocolate if I could check it out. So thank you!"

Muriel put the cards down and left as they had come.

Aziraphale muttered to Crowley's back, "We're going to be the subject of street gossip again."

Crowley turned to him and replied fondly, "Well, it's no secret that we love each other, the only thing they're going to know is that you love me so much that you designed a tarot deck entirely after me."

Aziraphale pouted and retorted, "You're not helping, here."

Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck again and said softly, "I don't care what other people think. Angel, you've created the only fortune-telling tarot deck where love can be read on every card."

This time it was the demon who left the angel speechless. 

For he was right.

It was love that had driven Aziraphale to create this deck. 

From then on, he had nothing to be ashamed of, and everything to be proud of.

Proud to love Crowley.

This time it was he who captured his demon's lips to show him, even better than with cards, how much he loved him and how proud he was of it.

Made by the amazing @rins-love-wins

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[ineffabildaddy]

on today's episode of understanding good omens through my own life:

a story about my ineffable inevitable queer teenage experience with an intense, volatile, fiercely affectionate 'friendship' that was definitely not just a friendship in retrospect.

when i was eleven, i started secondary school, and i met a girl who quickly became my best friend (i'm a trans man, and i also understood myself as a girl at the time. i still understand myself as a girl at that time). we became known as a unit because we couldn't get enough of each other, and we did absolutely everything together.

on the first day of our second year, we saw each other for the first time in several weeks because she had been away in her home country that summer. i had been counting down the seconds until she came back. when she was in the process of giving out souvenirs from her trip to all our friends, she waited until she saw i was alone and approached me. she handed me a ziploc bag full of shells and rock fragments.

"i picked these out for you at the beach," she said.

i thanked her and asked her to show me the bags of shells she'd made up for the others.

"i didn't do this for the others. i only did it for you," she responded, and walked away.

i had never felt anything like what i felt in that moment, and i haven't since. i was a lonely kid, especially before that age. what i mean to say is... no one had ever done anything just for me. no one had ever thought of me when i wasn't there; no one had ever taken the time to give me something that they had so carefully picked out; no one had ever stated with such conviction, in what was said or what was unsaid, that what they had done for me was not to be enjoyed by anyone else.

i like to remember this when i try to understand this moment in good omens:

i can't begin to comprehend what aziraphale must have felt in that moment, but remembering that day of my own life is the closest thing i've got.

mere months after that day, we started to argue. we had a huge falling out. i told her that no one on earth was capable of hurting me quite like she was (thirteen year-old me, in her own twisted way, thought that was a compliment). she told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn't stand me. we stopped talking.

a few months after that, we reconciled and we became closer than ever, but that tension, that unrest, was always lying under the surface, just waiting to gnash its teeth - and sometimes it did. these were also the years in which we were discovering our queer identities, and it took us a long time to really understand each other's journeys in that regard.

at sixteen, we both left our school and moved to a different institution till we graduated at eighteen. though we were at the same sixth form college, we just had different lives and didn't hang out anymore, though we remained on good terms. now, we text every once in a while, and we always say we'll meet up, but we never do. in october of last year, i bumped into her for the first time in maybe four years while coming home from a pavement gig. she was sitting on the doorstep of her parents' place with a roll-up cigarette. it was like no time had passed.

looking back, i can say with full confidence that i was in love with her. i do not know how else to understand our relationship. she drove me up the wall the way she did because i had never felt anything like what i felt for her for anyone else - and i haven't to this day.

even now, every time she is even mentioned in conversation, i dream about her the night following. and i still have those shells, hidden away in a wooden box i've never shown anyone; it's not too far from the shoebox that contains every note she ever passed me, every doodle she ever drew for me, every card she ever wrote me. in other words, i was permanently altered by our relationship, and her absence from my life has never diminished that. the same can naturally be said of crowley and aziraphale, to a much, much greater extent. i relive my memories of us because they help me understand many things about myself and others, and i've recently found that good omens has encouraged this.

this ended up longer than i intended but i hope you got something out of it.<3

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 11

Pairing: Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, reader is referred to by her stage name of Angel, pet names, post and morning after pillow talk, oral (f and m receiving), playful banter, everybody has secrets, reader is insecure, reader is an extremely flexible exotic dancer.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NS/FW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

You both lay in the bed next to each other, gasping for air as you came down from your respective highs. The sweet smell of arousal and sweat permeated your senses, and you managed to turn your head to look at him- you weren't entirely sure that you could move until you did. As high as he had gotten you, you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way...

The look of wonder on his face was completely unexpected- and made you feel like the goddamn Greek Goddess of Erotica. He sensed your eyes and turned towards you as well, both of you still breathing hard.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to gasp out before you could stop yourself.

"Nope, Bucky Barnes, but we already covered that earlier. Also, told ya you'd be calling me that."

The shit eating grin on his face made you burst out laughing. He snickered, pleased at your response, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in to snuggle on his bare, warm chest. You gently inhaled his musky scent, letting out another sigh of absolute contentment at this life-altering night.

"Go to sleep, baby," Bucky whispered gently into your hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt his metal fingers tracing your arm lazily as you immediately drifted off.

*****

You were way, way too comfortable to wake up. It was deliciously warm and soft, and your body felt like you'd just received a massage of the highest caliber. You hadn't felt this good in a long, long time.

You felt consciousness tugging at your eyelids, and you grumbled like a child, just a little. It was only when that sound was met with a low chuckle did you remember...and you were no longer upset about waking up.

You opened your eyes and without meaning to- and to your horror- let out a huge yawn right in Bucky's face. What if he thought that meant you were bored with him? What if he took that as a bad omen? What if you had horrid morning breath?! You snapped your jaw shut as fast as you could.

But to your ultimate surprise, he leaned in and kissed you reverently. "Good morning to that gorgeous mouth," he murmured against your lips, making you giggle in relief. That was all the invitation he needed to roll on top of you and press his tongue gently into your mouth. The feeling of his exquisite body on yours, holding you down, worshipping you with his lips, made you get all hot and bothered all over again.

Definitely worth waking up for.

You made out like teenagers for at least ten minutes morning breath be damned. You could feel his cock stiffening again, and the idea of round two with Bucky Barnes nearly made you orgasm. He finally pulled his lips off yours, but looked down on you with that menacing grin that shot a thrill through your veins. He rolled onto his side, his blue eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced up and down your torso.

"So you should know something..." Bucky said, cocking one eyebrow challengingly at you.

"More personal revelations? You didn't get them all out last night?" you teased back, tilting your head and feigning innocent while reveling in the feather light touches you were receiving.

"Not even by half."

"Not sure I can take another 'I'm a dangerous gangster' secret this early in the morning."

"Oh, you'll take it. You'll most definitely take it."

"Oh really? And what exactly am I taking?"

"Well, as a Mafia Don, I am entitled to a certain level of....friendship."

"If what we did last night was 'friendship' to you, I'm going to have some follow up questions about your relationship with Steve."

"Har har. What I mean is that, when you're with a man like me, and you spend the night...I'm going to require payment the next morning."

"...."

"Every time you spend the night, you owe me one morning orgasm."

The delightfully wicked grin on his face called to your inner sassy pants. He thought he had one on you. Fine. Two could play at this game.

"I see," you said carefully, letting your eyes wander over his head as you pretended to think about it. "Well, guess I have to pay up then," you said cheerfully, and before he could do anything, you suddenly dove under the silky purple top sheet, rolling over and trapping his legs beneath you, and grabbing a hold of his morning wood. He couldn't do anything more than splutter before you licked a long, slow stripe up his impressive length.

"Wha-whoa, that's not what....ohhhhh," Bucky moaned suddenly, as you drug your tongue over the head, before gently cupping his balls. "Angel, I-" he suddenly let out another erotic cry as you suddenly closed your lips around his tip and gently sucked. He seemed to give up talking after that, resorting to the most filthy sounds that you'd ever heard. You took your time, aching to make him feel even a tenth as good as he'd made you feel last night. You sucked him for another moment or two, before pulling off. Before he could protest, you gently ran a fingernail up his cock, causing it to twitch violently and him to arch his back. You dove back onto him, relaxing your throat as much as you could to take as much of him into your mouth as possible. You teased and suckled and licked until he just couldn't take it any more.

"Angel, I'm cl-close, I'm so close," Bucky panted. "If you don't want me to cum in your mouth, then-" He never got the rest of that sentence out as you began sucking his huge cock with a fervor. Of course you wanted him to cum in your mouth- what kind of a question was that? You bobbed your head faster and faster as his breath grew more and more ragged, until finally he came down your throat with a scream. You milked him for all he was worth, swallowing all he was giving you, and it was only when you could feel him stop that you gently slowed down and pulled off, giving him one last kiss before you emerged from under the sheet and got a good look at your man.

Bucky Barnes, the huge, dangerous mafia boss, was actually pale and shaking, his body beaded with sweat as he tried to recover from your amorous attack. His blue eyes rolled to your face, a wild look in them. "Jesus. Fucking. CHRIST," he moaned out.

"I think we've already established that that's not either one of our names," you said nonchalantly, making a big show of wiping the corners of your mouth with one finger, then licking it devilishly. His eyes snapped and sparkled at that. "So did I pay up, Godfather?"

"You saucy little minx," he growled playfully, the mischief growing in his own eyes. "You know damn well that's not what I meant."

"Huh?" you asked, all piously innocent. You squealed as Bucky suddenly put his huge hands under your arms and flipped you effortlessly onto your back. You'd never been manhandled like that before, and quite frankly it was one of the hottest things that had ever been done to you. He threw back the bed sheet before trapping your legs beneath him like you had just done to him. He leaned down to kiss your stomach.

"Don't you 'huh' me, you little brat," he growled, his lips never leaving your skin. "Oh, I'm gonna have fun taming you."

"If you think you can 'tame' me, you've got another thing coming, bub."

"Challenge accepted. Now lay back while I collect what I'm owed."

You honestly didn't remember much past that except overwhelming and wild intensity. Bucky's tongue and lips performed their magic between your thighs, and you were an absolute mess of a human being under them. He seemed to find every little spot that made you bow and arch, delighting in drawing out every cry and gasp that you made for him. He found just the right place on your clit and sucked so hard that your legs actually shook. He was just as relentless and unmerciful as you had been, and when you came you swore later that the heavens split open inside you.

As your vision cleared and your ears stopped ringing- yeah, it had been THAT good- you became aware that he was nuzzling your lower abdomen with his nose and feather light kisses. He finally looked up and caught you staring at him in wonder.

"Don't you look at me like that," he teased. "You deserved that, and I always get what I aim to collect." He grinned as your mouth dropped open. "With the blowjob you just gave me? Your name may be Angel, but you, madam, are no saint."

"And anyone that can make me see God like that, sir, is no sinner, even if he is a big Mafia Don," you quipped back playfully in between breaths. He chortled a bit, then scooted back up beside you.

"Tell me again how 'big' I am," he said cheekily, before kissing you hard. You sighed into his mouth and let your hand travel down again, gently teasing. He shuddered with delight, then pulled away just a bit, forcing you to stop before you could make him come again.

"So, seeing as we're both apparently fantastic at oral," he said frankly, turning his wicked grin on you. "You ever tried to sixty nine?"

You laughed, delighted that he was already thinking about the next time. "Always wanted to, never done it," you said honestly. "I think we have quite a few things like that to talk about, don't we?"

"You bet your sweet ass we do," he said triumphantly, making you giggle again. "God, that's a conversation I can't wait to have. We definitely cannot have it at the club or at the restaurant."

"Why not?"

"Why not? You think that I'm not going to tear the fucking clothes off your body after we get through just the first point and fuck you until you've got no voice left to scream my name? You're insane."

"Okay, when you put it THAT way." A wicked thought popped into your mind at that....oh, you knew what song you were going to dance to tonight...But before you could tease him any more about it, he suddenly sprung from the bed.

"Come on," he said, walking around to your side and holding out his hand. "Come shower with me, then I'm taking you out to breakfast."

Well. Who were you to argue?

To Be Continued...

[crowzirawho]

People need to stop panicking and understand that Neil saying Good Omens S3 won't be gentle and romantic doesn't mean it won't fulfill your personal perception of gentle and romantic, or that it won't have sweet moments and moments that show the love between Aziraphale and Crowley. It's clear based on him calling S2 gentle and romantic.

He's right that it was gentle and romantic; in S2, the world was not ending. S2's main plot and biggest crisis was The Gabriel Mystery, which turned out to be all about his romantic relationship with Beelzebub, and that plot was connected with Aziraphale and Crowley trying to make Maggie and Nina fall in love - romance again.

The entire plot of S2 revolved around romance in a mostly quiet setting.

In addition to that, removing the last fifteen, Aziraphale and Crowley didn't have any tension between them apart from the first episode, which was resolved¹ quickly, and all of their moments were pretty domestic and sweet. Hell, Aziraphale was trying to figure out a way to show his feelings to Crowley by organizing a Ball.

The entire season that consists of all six episodes is overall quiet, gentle, and romantic, like Neil said. People obviously don't see it that way, because the last fifteen minutes that concluded this season went against the tone of the rest of it. The taste the ending leaves in your mouth is definitely not quiet, gentle, or romantic. Is it defining of the tone of the entire season? Not really. But everyone has their own perception.

Let's not forget that S3 is based on the sequel to the book, which is what S1 is based on, and S2 is merely the bridge to get there. We already know the context for S3 from the show: second coming, the world is about to end (again). So, even if we don't have S3, we know that it would be best compared to S1.

So, was S1 gentle and romantic? Absolutely not.

The world was ending, everyone involved was panicking, and the tension was over the top. The plot of S1 definitely did not revolve around romance in a quiet environment, like S2's was. On top of that, Aziraphale and Crowley had a lot of tension between them throughout the season, up to the bookshop fire. Then the fire happened, which was definitely stressful as well. S1 ended on a good, even romantic note for them, but it could not be described as gentle and romantic.

Did we get sweet/important moments between Aziraphale and Crowley, though? Of course we did. A lot of them.

Now, for S3, we will obviously have all the tension caused by the end of the world, and I don't think anyone expects Aziraphale and Crowley to have zero tension between them. It will be super angsty, even more angsty than it was in S1 because of what happened in the last fifteen. S3 has no chance of being gentle and romantic, whether you talk about the main plot or Crowley and Aziraphale.

However, that does not define the resolution of the issue between Aziraphale and Crowley and it doesn't mean at all that we won't get sweet moments between them or moments that will show how much they love each other. It's even more likely through the angst if you ask me (it's why I love reading angsty fanfics).

Conclusion because I ranted: When Neil describes a season, he describes the overall tone, not how we will take it based on the parts that hold extra weight to us.

1. not really resolved with the "apology" dance, but it's not important.

[vidavalor]

Hello! I trully love your metas ♥️

And I want to believe… but how do you match the fact that they have kissed (even fucked) for so many time with the only kiss we have seen which is so clumsly, so fist-time-type, and so turbovirgin?

Thank you!

Hi @margotmignard-blog Thank you and nice to meet you. :) Ok, this is for you and the few Anons who have sent me more or less the same Ask in the last 2 weeks or so as some of my posts have circulated a bit more so yeah, alright, I'll take it on. All of you please help yourself to hot chocolate and holiday M&Ms, even if you are making me think about Every again to write this lol.

Why do I think Crowley & Aziraphale are long-time lovers when Every is an awkward kiss? Because you know what looks just like clumsy, first-time kisses?

Old-married argument kisses of desperation when all other communication is failing that then wind up failing, too, that's what.

Two people kissing in distress is clumsy and messy no matter what stage of their relationship they're in and if they're upset and think the other is about to walk out the door and conflicted about opening up to the kiss because of the argument then all of that makes for a truly gut-wrenchingly awkward kiss. It didn't read as a first time kiss to me at all but I can understand how it might to someone.

I actually think that's the insanely evil genius of it lol. This show is such a bastard worth knowing, I tell ya. :) Right now, they have everyone being all "they need to have a better second kiss!" and just well... if you were them, wouldn't you want that? Would seem a good way to bury the surprise of an older kiss, wouldn't it? Would be a good way to sleight of hand some doubt into *checks notes* apparently everybody but me and a handful of others lol and so help to have everyone flailing again but for a better reason when they throw in an older, better kiss.

It's also a bolder move, both story-wise and performance-wise. Sadly, it's still a big deal that they've even kissed at all and it shouldn't be but, thankfully, it's becoming more common. In a way, though, that makes the fact that they made the first kiss you saw less than ideal a better choice and a better story.

Some more thoughts on this under the cut below that is beneath some gifs of these two who haven't apparently ever kissed before moments away from sex in the wall slam scene in S1... which is Every's parallel scene. By design. To illustrate a contrast. The first kiss we saw is a mirror of oh, just the start of some casual public sex that got interrupted by SatanicNun!Nina. Haven't we all had that relationship where we let someone throw us against a wall before we ever kissed? I mean...

Look at Aziraphale and his little 'getting up to some sexy trouble' smile here... does he not look like he knows *exactly* what he's asking for here and does Crowley not know what the request is and give it to him in a way that screams that this is not the first time? The tone here is a bit... You know, Crowley, I've always said I wanted to fuck in an empty broom closet in a former satanic nunnery and luck of the devil, you just kicked in a door and found one so you are sooooo nice throw me against the wall baby let's go... oh terrific of course this is exactly when the damn nun shows up oh well at least I can enjoy you slurring your S's in sexual frustration for now...

Good Omens throws something down and then gives you context for it later on that causes you to revisit what you thought when you initially watched it, right? They do this all the time. The scenes themselves always work fine on first viewing but they change and morph into a different scene when viewed with the added context the show gives you later. If you're writing a show in that way, you absolutely would make Every the first kiss you showed the audience... *especially* if it was in a cliffhanger-y season finale. Your Ask is exactly the reason why. You and I and a bonkers number of others are engaging with one another on the topic and we're engaging with the show as a result. Some of us are apparently willing to fight to the death insisting that Every is their first kiss. Some of us are like how you appear to be from your Ask, where you're willing to keep an open mind but you're leaning towards it was the first kiss. Some of us are like me and are feeling that, when all is said and done, they are building a relationship that is millennia old and that the show will wind up illustrating an entire history of it by its end and the idea that we have scenes out there already like Rome and The Globe Theatre and 1941 and Tadfield Manor but people think that they just kissed for the first time in 2023 is kind of head-scratching to me.

I've had people ask me how an ancient times vavoom would advance the story and I've answered in other meta how I think it would but I have an ask back for you all: how, honestly, would 2.06 being their first kiss advance the story? They've written characters who have had a relationship of some form with one another since before the Garden of Eden and have shown us that story throughout different points in time. S3 is going to be, at best, set a couple of years out from S2 and is probably set a lot sooner than that, so we're going to end their story sometime before 2026 on their timeline, probably... and the first kiss was in 2023? When you have the opportunity to write an entire millennia-old romantic relationship with all of its highs and lows and show it in the flashbacks and how they inform the relationship in the present? Because that story is already there. That's the story I see watching this and have since the first time I watched it. I'm frankly kinda floored by the number of people who insist that it's their first kiss, especially two seasons into the show. The same show that gave you this before it gave you The Blitz, Part 2?

I got accidentally spoiled for Every like a lot of people and when I saw Crowley's glasses on, I had the feeling that it was probably going to be a terrible kiss. I was hoping that it wasn't the only kiss in the season but when 2.05 finished without it showing up yet, it became obvious that it was going to be a big thing in the finale (hahaha oh God, remember when we didn't know? simpler times lol) and that meant that it was likely the only kiss in the season and while it ripped my heart out like it did everyone else, I never saw it as a first kiss for a second.

If you've been with somebody for a long time and, like everyone else, you have your disagreements and your things to work through but you tend to be the kind of couple where you can always or almost always rely on a baseline of physical communication that helps you express what you feel for one another-- which is a wordy way of saying 'when you've been with someone forever and the sex is amazing' lol-- maybe the worst thing that can happen between you is if that feels like it's falling apart, too. That's what I see in that kiss and, in particular, Aziraphale's reaction to it.

It's not 'turbo-virgin', in an unfamiliar with kissing way, imo-- it's a situation causing conflict for Aziraphale over whether or not he wants to give into the kiss. We've all seen it from every damn angle by now lol. We see him unable to not give in, just a little. He kisses Crowley back a bit. He touches his shoulder and his side. He doesn't pull away because he just can't, really, because he never really wants to not be kissing Crowley, but he also can't just give in because that's the situation that Crowley's set up by kissing him the way he did. Crowley wants him to run away with him and that's not a solution to any of this, either, and everything is a total mess and if Aziraphale just gives in and opens up more and really kisses Crowley, he's saying yes to just running off with him and they can't. There's really nowhere to go.

Even with all of that, he still can't resist kissing Crowley a bit and touching him because Crowley and because what he really wants is for them to be literally anywhere else, somewhere safe away from all of it, without having to worry about Heaven & Hell, but they aren't and he can't pretend that they are. That'd be even crueler, really, to really kiss Crowley and then still go to Heaven, right?

It's not a first kiss and at a bad time panic-- it's oh God, I think we broke it. It's the heartbreak of suddenly being in this place together where they aren't communicating well on any level and that going past having a verbal disagreement and into the pain of having an absolutely brutally bad kiss with someone with whom you've had countless passionate ones and the terror that it might be the last one and you're never going to feel any of that again.

That's happened to them before.

It's the brutal 1862 scene. Aziraphale in 1862's comment about The Agreement is the most embittered you won't touch me anymore thing ever. They've gone from The Arrangement in their looser, flirtier Globe Theatre era to now what Aziraphale calls The Agreement in 1862. The difference between an arrangement and an agreement is basically where the future is concerned. An agreement is, well, an agreement lol but it tends to be more formal, more restrained, while an arrangement is an agreement that contains more of a view to the future. It's a plan. You agree to meet up but you arrange how, basically. They don't have The Arrangement in 1862 anymore, they have The Agreement and it sounds like the exact fucking opposite of The Arrangement. The Agreement is "stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed," according to Aziraphale.

Read that again: "Stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed." See a problem here? If we're just talking about helping each other out with work assignments then this literally just doesn't make any sense at all as how can you both stay out of each other's way but lend a hand as needed? It's one or the other. It can't be both. It's "stay out of each other's way" when it comes to work assignments. It's "lend a hand, as needed" in their love life and Aziraphale is bitter as all holy fuck about it. They're barely having sex anymore.

That scene in 1862 actually also parallels part of the scene that contains Every. Funny how alike "we have a lot in common, you and me" sounds to what Crowley says in 2.06, isn't it? Dude has got to stop asking for holy water or to run away when they're both a mess-- it not working lol.

The point is that they've been together a long time and they've also both experienced a lot of trauma. They've have times where miscommunications snowballed and it felt broken beyond repair but it's not and it's not because they love each other and they eventually figure it out. That's part of the pain of Every, though, because what happened after Crowley came back from Hell in 1827 was bad and it took a long time to get to a better place with it but they did and better than before and then this kiss that they think could wind up being their last is a complete disaster straight out of the mid-1800s on top of the fact that they're in what feels like in the moment irreversible disagreement.

It's a painful kiss. It hurts to watch. It's supposed to. Not because they've never kissed before but because they've kissed a trillion times and this is by far the worst of the lot.

And these bastards decided it was the first one we should see lol. It's okay, though. These are coming soon, in the past and present:

[nastasya--filippovna]

A funny little story full of funny little coincidences and sweet serendipity, but I know people on this site love that

This is a funny story of how I got into the Good Omens fandom. And it is so weird that sometimes I even amaze myself when I tell someone. But I love to tell this one....... so....................................

Late 2021 I watched Wilde and I absolutely loved it. And the best thing out of the movie was that I discovered Michael Sheen. I remember at the time being struck by two things: a) how this actor who had a side character and a small role was so magnificently out-acting great actors like Jude Law (just my personal opinion plz don't come at me for that) and all because of these beautiful micro-expression which I find myself criticizing many big actors like Brad Pitt even for that they lack good subtle micro expression and its as if their faces are dead, nothing is going on there. But Michael is always acting even when the camera is not focused on him he is in character. And (b) his fine beauty. I mean as a lesbian and more than that a portrait artist, I was mesmerized by the artistic beauty in the most non-sexual way.

And I found myself spiraling down the MS hole. And I watched literally everything he has ever done. Except one thing.

Good Omens.

That was because I love Neil Gaiman as a writer. His books have saved me during some very dark times in my love and his work is absolutely sacred to me. To be honest I didn't enjoy his other adaptations. They sucked the juiciness out of the books and kinda confirmed my earlier conviction that no filmed adaption of a book will ever do justce to the written word.

And it's so weird that I had seen all the other adaptations but I hadn't ever heard of GO adaptation.

And then one day I was like yk what just f^ck it. I'll just watch it and strike this one of my list (I'm a cinephile on a mission to watch almost everything ever made in the world).

So I'm watching it and I'm like oh look MS looks so ethereal. Born to play an angel. Look at those floofy wings.

BUT something was bugging me. Usually in most MS movies/shows he keeps out-shining, out-acting his co-stars. Just out there being the best making everyone else look flimsy. But here there was one person who is NOT looking flimsy with MS. Infact he keeps complementing him so perfectly it looks like a graceful waltz.

'Yeah so the demon guy is a great actor I guess'

But that's not why my mind is bugging me. There was something else some weird deja vu kind of familiarity.

I try to ignore it.

Two days later my sister is scrolling through her Pinterest and she goes "What's a Doctor Who?"

And I was like "It's an old childhood show I used to watch, you wouldn't know (she has never seen Doctor Who btw).... why're you asking?"

And she holds up her phone and she's like "Idk it says he's a Doctor Who?" (btw I love the way she says 'a Doctor Who')

And my mind went whoooooooosh!

It's such a strange feeling when stuff you'd forgotten, stuff that was once really special to you, but seems to be lost, and yet is only nestling in some corner of you chaotic mind waiting for the day it'll one day come into the light again, that's tuff comes whooshing back.

I grew up loving DW. Especially Ten. Well I was a tad bit pissed when Nine regenerated into DT and I was like noooooooo who's this skinny f^cker.... I don't want it. But I just fell in love with Ten. To my little lonely-kid-in-school-weirdo-nerd-wallflower self Ten was a best friend who made me feel that it's okay to be different to be geeky and childlike without being embarrassed. Ten was a secret best frined.

And when he regenerated I stopped watching the show. And I forgot about it because I was so busy adulting I lost track of everything I had cherished as a kid.

Now almost 15 years later I found out that my new favorite character (along with Aziraphale cz they're equally special to me) was played by the same person who played my childhood favorite character. And that he's also the best actor I have ever seen so I spiraled down DT hole and I am obsessed (not ashamed to say this). And guess what I found.... almost every show or movie I had watched as kid, he was there.... Ducktales, Harry Potter, Loud House, Einstein and Eddington, Mary Queen of Scots...... its endless.

And the 60th Anniversary special, well it's the most specialist thing to me. I feel like a child again.

GO and DW. Best things that ever happened to me

So thanking Neil Gaiman and Russel T. Davies and MS and DT for making my childhood better....... constantly, because it's never over..... the child lives in me constantly...... she's alive again. Thank you for keeping that child alive and helping her through the darkest nights .

Meena x

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475

A/N: sexual content. Sorry the chapter is lengthy lol.

Even though I was glad that Noah convinced me to see the guys last night, getting up this morning absolutely sucked. I stayed up much longer than I should have, and I was exceptionally fatigued rolling out of bed because of it, but it was worth it. It had been a long time since I've laughed as hard as I had.

I really need it, and it made me realize how much I missed them. It's been what? Two or three months? And they still welcomed me in with open arms, Folio especially, literally picking me up and spinning me around.

That dumbass. I swear his goal in life is to give Noah a brain aneurysm, always getting a rise out of him from his actions, even though it was all in good fun.

I chuckled to myself at the thought as I continued making my way around the bakery, tallying what items were in stock and making notes of what needed to be ordered. Both the flour and sugar were getting low, and I dreaded lifting each 50 lb bag to refill the bins, but it had to be done. With a huff, I put my checklist on the counter and squatted down, positioning the bag in a way it would be easiest for me to lift.

"Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?" "Jesus fucking Christ!" I about jumped out of my skin hearing Noah's disapproving voice cut through the silence. Straightening up, I placed a hand over my erratic heart and turned to see him standing there with his arms folded over his chest. "No, it's your husband, Noah," he deadpans. I rolled my eyes. "Ha ha, very funny," I puffed out a breath, combing a hand through my bangs. "Seriously though, what are you doing here?"

A smirk breaks through his unusual scowl as he uncrosses his arms and closes the gap between us. "Stopping you from doing what you're not supposed to be doing," he scolds playfully before squatting and lifting the bag of flour with ease. "You know you're not supposed to lift more than 20 pounds, Liv." "It was only for a second—" "I don't care," he laughs incredulously. "Doc said no heavy lifting, so no heavy lifting. Where's this going?" I sighed, motioning my hand towards the bin behind him. "You probably shouldn't be either," I grumbled.

He lays the bag over the bin, shooting me a pointed look. I put my hands up in surrender, knowing the next words out of his mouth were going to be something about how he's not carrying a tiny human, and stepped around him to retrieve a knife. I hand it over to him and he quickly cuts open the bag and empties the contents, crumpling it before tossing it in the trash. He then moves onto the next bag.

"Thank you," I say once he's finished. "I'm sorry, I'm just used to doing this by myself." He gives me a light smile, brushing my bangs back before kissing my forehead. "I know, love, I know. But you gotta let me help you, especially now." I slip my arms around his torso and look up at him with a bashful smile, a blush crawling over my cheeks. "I know. I didn't want to bother you, with your breathing and all." He shakes his head, disregarding me. "Don't. I know my limits, and I'm more than happy to help." He cups my cheek, delicately running his thumb across my still-flushed skin. "Let's finish this up and head back home to relax." "I'm here until noon, though."

He places both hands on my hips and scrunches his mouth to the side, mulling over my statement. "Okay, so we finish this, you finish your shift, and I'll have lunch ready for you. Anything you want. Then we'll relax. How's that sound?" His thumb slides under my shirt and delicately rubs against my side, causing me to wriggle in his grasp from the sensation. "Sounds like a date," I giggled. His dark eyes glistened, crinkling in the outer corners as he smiles at my words, and my heart flutters at the sight. "It's a date," he reiterates, giving my hips a light squeeze. I stand on my toes and give him a quick kiss before returning to the task on hand, trying to fight the warmth swirling in my stomach and the giddy smile from spreading across my face.

Though I hadn't been expecting his help today, I was more than grateful for it as he took care of the freezer, which also involved some heavy lifting. However, my heart sank with concern when he emerged from the walk-in; he was having a full-blown coughing fit, having to brace himself over the 3-base sink. And as usual, he insisted he was fine, but with a heavy eye roll I forced him to sit down and catch his breath while I brewed him a cup of tea.

He took the steaming cup with a sheepish smile, holding it up to his nose and breathing deep. "Thanks, love," he exhales, taking a hesitant sip. He winces when he burns his tongue, swallowing harshly. "Watch out, it's hot," I tease with a wink. "Why don't you head on home after you finish that? We're about done with inventory, and Juliana and Holly will be here any minute now to set up shop." "You sure you don't need anything else from me?" he questions, running a comforting hand down my arm and taking hold of my hand with a squeeze. I squeezed his hand in return with a polite shake of my head, just as the girls make their way in.

"Morning, Liv!" Jules chimes, stopping short when she sees I'm not alone. "Oh, and good morning to you, too, Noah." She grins and puts her belongings on a hook, walking by us to preheat the oven. "Wasn't expecting to see you here. How've you been?" "Not so bad, just helping Liv with inventory. She's a little sluggish this morning," he muses, winking at me, which earns him a light smack on his shoulder from me. "How are you? And Holly?" He leans forward to peer behind me.

Holly quietly greets us, hanging her things up and slipping her apron on, immediately engaging into work mode.

"Don't mind her, she's not a morning person, as ironic as it is for someone who works at a bakery. Especially on inventory day," Juliana murmurs when Noah quirks an eyebrow. "Anyway, I'm good. Keeping busy here." She pulls the muffin trays from under the oven, setting them on the counter with a loud clatter. "You wanna help with some baking?" she jokes. "I already did," Noah says quiet enough so that only I could hear, wagging his brows at me before glancing down at my belly. He snickers when I once again hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"Actually, he was just leaving," I answered for him, pulling him to his feet. "But I haven't finished my tea," he feigns a whine, only to laugh when I shot daggers at him. "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'll see you at home for lunch. Be good." My cheeks burn hot, hoping they wouldn't question what he meant by 'be good'. "Noah," I hiss his name, beginning to push him towards the exit. "That's enough out of you." He snorts, finally walking towards the back door with me in tow. "What? I just want you to have a good day, that's all." There's a tone in his voice, and I know he's trying not to laugh.

I fold my arms over my chest when we're out of sight, glowering at him, unamused. "Not funny. You know I don't want anyone to know yet." "Relax, they're not gonna know you're pregnant just because I told you to be good," he rolls his eyes. "Anyways," he sighs, "I'll see you at home. Relax and try to have a good day, okay?" I mutter a quick 'okay', and he flashes me a small smile after kissing me goodbye.

When I returned to the kitchen, Juliana was working away at getting the muffins baked, pouring the batter that Holly had prepared into the tins. She glances up at me when she senses my presence and smirks—my stomach churns uncomfortably. She knows.

She doesn't say anything though, just carries on with baking, that devious curl never leaving her lips, and I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. I shake my head at myself and take a deep breath, picking up the checklist, hoping to settle my nerves by distracting myself with finishing inventory.

"It's nice to see you happy," Juliana says as I hear her open the oven doors, the whoosh of the fans blowing out a gust of heat. "Hm?" I quirk a brow, peeling my eyes away from my list. My heart jumps to my throat when I see that smug grin on her face again. "I said it's nice to see you happy. It's been a while since I've seen you smile like that." She states, placing one of the muffin tins on a rack. I furrow my brows. "Like what?" "He teases you and you get flustered, then you have this goofy smile on your face that I know you're trying to hide. It's cute; you guys are cute."

Scarlet crosses over my cheeks once again and I breathe out a quick 'Oh'—that's what that smirk was about earlier.

"Like that," she laughs, putting the last muffin tin in and shutting the oven doors. I hadn't even noticed I had been grinning at her words. "Yeah, well..." Clearing my throat, I avert my eyes to my checklist with a bashful chuckle. "Honestly, things weren't great between me and Noah for a while there, and I thought I lost him." I admit, having never told the girls why I hadn't been quite myself the last few months. "Recently, things have been getting better, and as silly as it sounds, I feel like I'm crushing on my husband all over again." "It's not silly, Liv." She turns to me after setting the timer on the oven, a genuine smile on her face. "It's a good thing. Whatever you thought you had lost was never really lost, it just got a little buried. You just had to do some digging, is all."

There's a warmth that swirls in my stomach, and spreads to my chest as I think about how much things have turned around as of late; how much effort Noah has put into mending what had been damaged.

I pushed him away, and I was the reason he developed that godforsaken disease, yet he still came running to my side when I needed him—after a fucking month of not speaking to one another. He was suffering, barely able to breathe, but he still did what he could to support me no matter how hard it was for him.

Coming to my appointments, running to the store to get me necessities when I asked him not to, showing up here at the bakery to make sure I wasn't doing anything over strenuous, and helping me because he knew that I would.

Now, every time I lay eyes on him, there's this pang of remorse knowing what I've been putting him through—but it always gets swarmed and consumed by the butterflies coming to life inside of me as soon as I see that grin on his face. His dark irises seem to light up with adoration as he smiles down at me, and I swear there's a surge of electricity between us whenever he places a gentle hand on me.

This was how it was when this all began; we're so close to getting back to what we were—I can almost taste it.

-

Rushing through the front door due to the unexpected rain, I cursed at myself for not having at least a hooded jacket for my walk home from the bakery. That, and never thinking to check the damn weather before going into work.

With a huff, I placed my belongings down just as Noah makes his way around the corner to meet me at the entryway. "What happened to you?" he chuckles, turning to head down the hall and returning with a towel. "I didn't know it was supposed to rain," I whined, starting to walk towards our bedroom and stopping when I took note of the living room.

The sectional was set up in a way where we could comfortably lie down with the back and armrests bordering us, a large blanket fanned out over the cushions. The lights were set low, the LEDs casting an amber glow against the far wall behind the TV—which was displaying a view of a sunrise at the beach, turquoise waves slowly rolling over the sand and back.

Noah drapes the towel over my shoulders and I turn towards him as he wraps it over the front of me. I take hold of it and clutch it to my chest, smiling up at him. "What is all this?" He shrugs, fighting back a proud smile while rubbing my upper arms to spread some warmth across my chilled skin. "Well, I wanted to take you down to the beach but as you can see, it's raining." He humors with a light laugh, and I roll my eyes. "So, I did what I could to bring the beach to you."

My heart swells at the thoughtfulness, tears immediately springing to my eyes. "You're too much," I say as my lips tremble, and he doesn't waste a second to stop them by kissing me. I melt into him, warmth radiating through my whole body as our lips sync together, practically leaving me breathless. We break apart slightly, our mouths open, both of us breathing in to get an ample amount of air before crashing together again.

I can taste the salt from my tears against his lips while his hand cups my cheek, brushing them away with his thumb. He smiles into our kiss, a chuckle vibrating against my lips. "Stop crying," he whispers. I giggle and pull away, sniffling while wiping the remaining tears away. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting this." "All I did was move the couch and put a YouTube video of the ocean up," he laughs. "It's really not all that much." "Maybe to you, but you know the sunrise holds a special meaning to me."

He brandishes a gentle smile, eyelids hooded as he stares down at me with candor heavy in his eyes. "I know," he runs a hand down the length of my damp hair. "Let's get you changed into some dry clothes and have some lunch. I had sushi delivered right before you got home—" "I can't have sushi, Noah," I frowned. "Raw sushi. I did a little research; everything I got is cooked and low in mercury content." I sighed, grinning. "You are the best."

I trotted to our bedroom and stripped of my damp clothes, draping them over the side of the tub to dry, and stepped into some sweats and one of Noah's hoodies. Knowing my hair would dry in a frizzy mess, I quickly blow-dried it before meeting him back in the living room where he set the sushi and an arrangement of snacks out on the coffee table.

We each grabbed a plate and a pair of chopsticks, choosing what we wanted before settling onto the sectional, sitting with our legs folded in. There was a comfortable silence between us as we ate, the only sounds being the gentle waves and the occasional call of a seagull playing through the surround sound.

I finished my plate first and put it off to the side, resting my head against Noah's shoulder with a smile of contentment. He finishes his food shortly after and wrapped his arm over my shoulders, hugging me close to him. We instinctively unfold our legs and lay back; my head was now on his chest, my leg and arm draped over his body as I snuggled up close to the heat radiating from him.

My eyes flutter shut as he rubs my shoulder, and I couldn't help the grin from spreading across my face. I haven't felt so comfortable, so peaceful and at home, so...complete in far too long, and I owed it all to Noah.

As I laid here in his arms, listening to the calming sounds of the ocean and his deep breathing, I was brought back to the very first time I saw the sunrise. Hues of pink, orange, and yellow erupting from the horizon of cobalt, cascading skyward into baby blue. So beautiful, so mesmerizing, and I knew it would be devastating if I couldn't witness it anymore.

I picked my head up from Noah's shoulder, gazing at the peaceful expression on his face—eyes closed, his lips curled in the tiniest smile as he ever-so-slightly moved his head side to side, most likely to a tune in his head. His expression changes, turning to that of surprise when the next three words flew out of my mouth: "I love you."

He slowly opens his eyes, chocolate irises locking with my blues while his lips part to say something, but nothing comes out. He reaches out and delicately trails his fingertips down my face and to my chin, his thumb brushing over my lips. He still doesn't say anything, just caresses my face as if he expected me to dissolve into thin air at any second.

"What?" I whispered, my stomach churning anxiously. He shakes his head lightly, and my nerves melt away when I watched a smile break across his face. "I just... I didn't think I'd ever hear you say that again." "Oh," I mumbled with shame, dropping my gaze from him. He shifts so he's on his side now, and picks my head up by my chin. "I love you too, Olivia." I can see the tears glossing over his eyes, but he blinks them away and crashes his lips to mine. "So much," he says against them, never fully breaking our kiss.

Desire quickly flares inside of me; he suddenly wasn't close enough. I fist his shirt and roll onto my back, pulling him down with me as one of my legs settle over his hip. Our teeth clack together, and he pulls away slightly to laugh. "Guess these pregnancy hormones give you super strength, huh?" I breathed out a laugh. "I guess so. Now shut up and kiss me." He shakes his head with a snort, "Yes, ma'am."

I lace my fingers into his hair as we reconnect, holding him close to me, and in that moment, I'm flooded in all the ways I missed him. I felt starved. As if he could sense it, his tongue lashes out, gliding against my bottom lip, and I meet his with mine—tongues twisting and turning, relishing the familiarity of each other that we both had been longing for.

He ground his hips into me, and I can feel his growing erection through my sweats, pressing against my inner thigh. Heat begins to pool low within me, just thinking about the way his cock would feel gradually filling me, stretching me in the way my body so desperately needed.

More. I needed more.

He groans when I give his hair a light tug and roll my hips up towards him, wanting to satisfy the dull ache between my legs. I do it again when he doesn't quite get the hint; this time he moves, and a chill runs down my spine when his lips reach my jaw, the stubble that he had growing in rubbing against my skin. He peppers my neck with feather-light kisses, his teeth grazing along the way, and stopping to nip right below my ear. His breath cascades across my neck in a quiet laugh when he hears the mewl I let out.

"Is this what you want, love?" His voice was so low, I almost moaned simply from the seduction laced in his tone. "Yes," I whispered, clawing my nails against his scalp once more. He hums, slipping his large hand underneath the hoodie I was wearing and trailing his fingertips up my side. My skin prickles and my nipples harden just before he palms my breast, rolling his thumb over the pert bud. "No bra?" "They're sore; figured I'd be staying in, so why wear one?" "Makes sense," he concurs, running the tip of his nose up the side of my neck and to my jaw, promptly giving me a quick kiss. "Maybe I can help with that?"

His dark eyes glimmer with lust, and there's a smirk spreading across his lips that makes my core throb, wishing his face were between my legs instead. All I do is nod, both of us shifting to remove my top. He throws it behind the couch before he cups my breasts with hesitancy, delicately kneading the tender area, waiting to see if I'll stop him. I allow him to massage them for a brief moment, but he stops when he senses my discomfort. They were just too sore right now.

He whispers an apology, laying gentle kisses on the swell of my breasts before making his way down my belly. My stomach swirls with arousal and my chest heaves, anticipating his touch; all I could do was stare down at him as he halts at my waistband, peering up at me with hunger. His fingers grasp the top of my sweats, eyes begging me for access as he reluctantly waits for the go-ahead.

I lift my hips and assist him with shimmying my bottoms down my legs; he takes his time removing them, palming my right thigh with a firm squeeze. He continues caressing down my leg with both his hands and lips before doing the same to my left. "No panties either?" he muses while still holding my leg and places a kiss to the inside of my ankle. I bite my lip with a giggle, shaking my head 'no'. "Just the way I like it," he winks, beginning to trail his lips up my calf.

The further up my leg he went, the more he lowered himself against the couch until he was nearly flat, face level with the apex of my thighs. I see the hunger in his eyes when they flicker to my slick folds and back up, a smirk tugging at his mouth. He doesn't break eye contact as he slowly lowers his face down and teases me by kissing over my mound, up and across to each hip bone, and settling his mouth against my tiny bump.

"You're so beautiful, in every way,” he whispers, kissing my belly again. "Every bit of you. Your smile, your laugh." Kiss. "Your bubbly personality." Kiss. "Your soft skin, your growing bump." Kiss. "The way you say my name. The sounds you make." Kiss. "And even the way you taste," he licks his lips, and I clench around nothing, dying for him to touch me. "Noah," I breathed out. "Please." "Mmm, like that," he hums, placing his hands on the back of my thighs, holding me to him as he finally reaches where I needed him to be.

I take a sharp breath in when he licks a stripe through my folds, my hips bucking forward when his tongue lands on my clit. He hums—I can’t tell if it was in amusement of my reactions, or a groan of satisfaction as he damn near devours me like this was his last meal on earth—and the vibration coasts through my core, forcing a moan out of me.

I fist his hair; his fingertips dig into my thighs as he groans again, his tongue methodically running through my folds. He was so meticulous with his actions, knowing the way my body would respond to each and every flick of his tongue, and he had me chasing that high. My hips roll towards his face, and he takes my clit into his mouth, my stomach tightening as he sucks.

My senses are so heightened, I come undone within seconds, stars shooting behind my eyelids as I squeeze them shut and moan out his name. My body trembles and my back arches, my nails dig deeper into his scalp as his tongue relentlessly pulls me through my climax.

“Wow, I didn’t even need to use my fingers,” he muses with a smirk plastered on his face, his lips glistening with my slick. I try to think of a witty comeback, but I can’t. All I can do is shake my head at him, focusing on coming back down to earth, and trying to regain the breath he knocked out of me.

He clambers on top of me, and my hands instinctively find their way under the back of his shirt as he plants his mouth on mine in a heated kiss—I can taste myself when I take hold of his bottom lip with my teeth. He moans and I chuckle, now scratching my nails down his toned back.

“Christ, Olivia,” he mumbles, pulling away to look down at me; his breathing is labored, his lips now plump. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” “I don’t?” I quirked an eyebrow, digging my nails further into his back. His muscles flex under my fingertips, and I giggle when he bites back a groan as his dick twitches against my leg. He shakes his head incredulously, his dark bangs shifting and blanketing his face. “Maybe you do.” “Maybe I do,” I shrug, watching his eyes grow dark with desire. “I want to fuck you so badly, Olivia,” he growls. “Then do it,” I say, removing my hands from under his shirt.

He sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, and tosses it to the floor. I watch his chest heave as his hands clumsily unfasten his belt and unzip his fly—was he nervous, or overly eager? He slowly pulls his jeans down, along with his boxers, and his cock springs loose, slapping against his belly. He takes hold of himself, gliding his hand up his shaft, and I swear my mouth watered when I saw the precum glistening as he rolled his palm over the tip, spreading it back down his length.

Christ, Olivia. What has gotten into you?

He settles himself between my legs but hesitates, his eyes searching mine as he places a delicate hand on my cheek. He swallows harshly, “I don’t… am I going to hurt you or—” I giggled at his concern. “You’re not gonna hurt me or the baby, I promise,” I reassured him, combing his bangs back with my hand and giving his head a light scratch. “Are you sure?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure. The baby’s not gonna come out with a dent in its head from your dick, Noah,” I chuckled. “What if—” “So help me God, Noah, if you don’t put your dick in me in the next ten seconds, you’re gonna have a dent in your head.” I hooked my leg over his hip, hoping to urge him on. He shakes his head and laughs lightly. “So assertive.”

In one swift movement, he slowly enters me, and we both moan out in unison. He rests his forehead against my collarbone, a staggering breath caressing my skin as he rolls his hips away. “Fuck,” he sighs, “I almost forgot how good you feel.” My hands smooth up his back, one hand tangling into his hair, and he picks his head up to look at me with a sheepish grin. “Me too,” I breathed a laugh, pushing my hips towards him. “Keep going. Please.” “As you wish.” He ruts his hips into me, an impish smile on his face. He was still hesitant; I could tell with each attentive thrust into me, and as good as it felt, I needed more.

My heel presses into the small of his back, and I began to run my nails against his tattooed skin. His eyes flutter shut, a light moan slipping past his lips as he continued his languid pace. “Noah,” he looks at me when I say his name. “Don’t hold back. Show me what you forgot, show me how much you missed me.” He chuckles, and it’s like a switch flipped inside of his head, his eyes burning into mine with a sudden darkness. “Fuck, Olivia. You’re really going to be the death of me.”

I don’t have time to say anything or even laugh; his lips are on mine in an instant, his hips snapping into mine with fervor. My fingers tighten, digging into him further as a moan escapes me, and he takes that to his advantage, shoving his tongue in my mouth. Our kiss was sloppy, influenced by desire, hunger, need. But I didn’t care, everything in this moment felt so right, so satisfying as his cock hit me in all the right ways. My body was buzzing with euphoria as I drank him in and savored the feeling of him encasing me, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

He suddenly pulls away from me, and I whimper from the emptiness. With a growl, he sits up and repositions me with my legs resting on his shoulders. I cry out when he thrusts back into me, hitting me at a different angle that would undeniably tip me over the edge. My back arches when there’s pressure on my clit—it took me a second to realize his thumb was rubbing against me.

Sweat was beading across his forehead as his eyes locked with mine, and the fire burning behind his irises was my downfall. My walls clenched around his length, and I swear I was levitating as my chest rose under his control, my body quaking while he coaxed the orgasm out of me.

My legs slip off his shoulders, and once again he repositions me so that I’m on his lap. He holds me close to him, his large hand supporting me at the small of my back as he continues to thrust deep inside of me. I can’t move; my head lols back and I feel his lips against my throat, peppering sloppy kisses until he bites down below my jaw. His moan vibrates down my jugular, and I feel the warmth of his breath as he pants through his nose.

He gently lies me back down against the couch, his body collapsing on top of mine while he slips out of me. We're panting together in fucked out bliss and my hands find his hair again, raking my fingers through his sweat stained locks. He hums, pressing a kiss on my collarbone before rolling off me. He scoops me on top of him, my leg settling over his torso and my hand lands on his cheek. I run my thumb over his flushed skin and he once again hums and presses a kiss into my hair.

“Did we just have sex on the beach?” I mumbled, a tiny grin on my face. He snorts, and I know he’s shaking his head at me without having to look at him. “If that’s what you want to believe, then sure, love.” I giggled, picking my head up to look at him. He looks at me with adoration, a tired smile gracing his lips as he ran his hand through my hair. “You’re cute. Lie back down, let’s take a nap. It’s been a long morning.” I do as he says after giving him a kiss, settling against his chest.

His chest rising and falling slowly relaxes me, and I notice one thing as his steady heartbeat begins to lull me to sleep: he wasn’t wheezing. Not even in the slightest.

|Chapter 20|

[o-uncle-newt]

I'm not going to reblog Neil Gaiman's thing about how S2's episodes "don't have any fat on them" but I DO have some (spoilery) reactions to that below the cut-

OK so I already did another post here where I gave my impressions of the writing- but Gaiman mentioning this actually reminded me of something that I didn't put in there at all but kind of wish I had.

Because honestly, I don't think that the episodes not having any fat on them is a good thing.

Here's the thing- Good Omens, the book and the first season of the TV show, is a bunch of set pieces that loosely come together into a plot. The TV show less so, maybe- there's more of an effort to create a narrative- but fundamentally it's a bunch of ridiculous stuff all strung together to create the Apocalypse. (Like, there's a reason why book fans were so upset when the Four Other Horsemen of the Apocalypse didn't show up in the show- they did literally nothing for the plot but they were absolutely hilarious.)

So far, in the first 2 episodes of S2, I have to agree with Gaiman that there's no fat on them. And I think that's one of the things that kind of threw me. EVERYTHING that has happened thus far has felt like it's something that's probably going to lead to something else, like it's connective tissue for the upcoming story that will presumably make more sense later- and while there's plenty of entertainment and humor and sweetness, it's all to the point. You have to be paying attention, you have to take everything seriously (even if it's something that by rights feels inherently unserious) because it could matter later.

In S1, you didn't have to think too carefully about why a telemarketer is being eaten by maggots or even why there's still a witchfinder in the 21st century (for the show) because fundamentally it doesn't REALLY matter. Something will all come together at the end and in the meantime you can just enjoy it in the spirit in which it's given, which is of course an insane one. Each scene is just fun on its own. (I think this is in some ways truer in the book than the show- there were a lot of these scenes that I don't think worked on the show- but that was more about the execution than the concept.)

The fat in S1 was the good part, really. The plot wasn't all that important- it was all the moments along the way.

The closest thing to fat (to continue to use the metaphor) in S2, so far, is the minisode. It's the only thing where it doesn't necessarily feel like you'll be tested on it later. And it's also easily the best part of those episodes! You can just watch it and take all the ridiculousness for granted because it doesn't really matter. It's there to draw out the characters, it's there to give the world more color, and it's there to entertain.

Not that S2 isn't also there to entertain- it very much is, but it doesn't really have time to. It can be silly and random in the way that the book and S1 are, but instead of those being random throwaway moments (like Newt blacking out all of Dorking in the book- which signifies that his tech-unsavviness may be relevant to the plot later but is really mostly just there to entertain because it's so out-there), they are intrinsically tied into whatever the plot will turn out to be. That's really clear, even though we don't actually know yet exactly what the plot is going to be! The leanness of the plot is immediately evident.

I think, so far, that the main negative consequence is that it makes it so much harder to suspend disbelief. When you have a ridiculous moment in a throwaway scene, that's worldbuilding- it shows that this is the kind of world where ridiculous things happen, and then when a particular ridiculous moment ends up being important to the plot, that's fine because it's part of a whole constellation of ridiculous things in this ridiculous world- they've already deconstructed our sense of disbelief. When all you're getting is plot, when something a bit crazy happens you're like "oh, hang on, that doesn't make sense, that's a bit farfetched."

I think that that's one of the things that, so far, is giving "fanfic vibes" to the first two episodes. Maggie and Nina get locked into the cafe? In their first episode?! When we know that they're going to get together?!?! That's ridiculous. In the book and to a lesser degree S1, where like five other ridiculous things would have already happened that aren't heavily signaled to be important to the plot (Gabriel doesn't count because we know he's important to the plot too), this would just be one more ridiculous thing. In S2, it feels like something we need to suspend disbelief for because we haven't really had it suspended for us yet.

Everything I write about Good Omens here is going to come down to John Finnemore in the end because I can't help myself lol, but honestly, my first thought was "well he's really into plotting, so maybe this is part of that." But- he's also done nine and a bit seasons of a sketch show. While he was writing this he was also writing a season of JFSP (the sublime S9) where there was very minimal plot but everything was propelled by character building sketches, very much in the spirit of Good Omens. He knows exactly the power of random ridiculous moments to build the world and explain its ludicrousness. When him being a writer was announced, I saw so many people say "he's definitely got a bonkers enough brain to do this" except that it turns out that, while true, his bonkers sketch-writing brain doesn't really have a lot to do here.

That, plus the fact that I'd be really surprised from everything that I've heard over the last 2ish years if Gaiman wasn't the first and final voice behind everything written for this season, leads me to the conclusion that the issue might just be that S2 may be, as a group effort, over-plotted for its length. There's little room to breathe and live in the world. There are barely any humans, and as such there's not much time to remember that the story is set in a world where humans matter, which, as I pointed out in my previous post, is something that was really important in Good Omens the book and S1. It just doesn't have any fat.

Now- I should be clear- as I said with the other post, it is way too early to tell if GO2 is good or not, because all of the stuff in E1-2 was clearly building up to other things that haven't happened yet. I actually think S2 probably will be good. The above may not be "issues" per se. But I do think that talking about the original Good Omens like the "fat" is the problem kind of misses the point of why so many people liked it- and leaves GO2 with a pretty big burden to overcome in order to convince viewers that it is a continuation of the same world and same story they loved in S1.