#notes from our bookshop

[anthonyjcrowleyfell]

Please stop blaming me for Trump being elected.

I had nothing to do with it! Those humans in the States came up with it all on their own.

I would definitely receive a commendation for it though, if I hadn’t retired.

[ineffableaddiction]

I interpret the coffee shop scene in S2 Ep 1 a bit differently than what I’ve read.

I don’t see jealousy at all.

This seems like a surprised reaction from Crowley. (Astonishment maybe?) Aziraphale got called out by Nina, and is clearly uncomfortable. Crowley could tell.

So later in their conversation, he teases Aziraphale, questioning why they aren’t in the bookshop.

But Crowley only wants to help Aziraphale. He knows the “something’s wrong” voice, is concerned and wants to find out what has upset Aziraphale.

When they go back to the bookshop, they’re in “us” mode, and Crowley casually holds the plate of eccles cakes while Aziraphale unlocks the shop. No signs of jealousy.

Once they enter the shop, Crowley tells Aziraphale that something a bit weird is going on with his old lot. No mention of a naked man. Our favorite demon is confused when Aziraphale says he might have an idea of what’s going in and calls for Jim.

Side note: How adorable is this? ❤️

I don’t think jealousy is even on the agenda. Aziraphale and Crowley know each other. They trust each other. It doesn’t even seem like it would cross either of their minds that anyone could interfere with the bond they have. Everyone else is in the periphery. It’s always just them. The group of the two of them.

[anthonyjcrowleyfell]

I don’t sing, Angel. You don’t dance.

Proof enough not to believe in the boxes they try to trap you in.

I was not at all astonished when Crowley sang a certain song to me today. It was perfectly off-key and wonderful to dance to.

[universefcb]

NIGHT IN PARIS, PEDRI GONZÁLEZ.

→ Summary: It's a week off for the team, so Pedri decides to take you on a trip to Paris. To celebrate your anniversary.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Spanish phrases.

→ Author's note: I'm thinking about opening up my requests again because I've been missing you guys sending me ideas.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Paris looked like it had been hand-painted that morning. A soft blue, with scattered clouds, contrasted with the golden tones of the trees in early autumn. The leaves danced on the sidewalk as she walked beside Pedri, their fingers intertwined as if time had not managed to undo the intimacy built over five years of history. And he, as always, disguised himself so as not to be recognized.

It was rare for them to spend a whole week together. The intense season, the exhausting training sessions, the team trips — all of this made these moments precious. But when Barcelona announced the short break, Pedri didn't think twice. He booked the flights, planned every detail and, smiling from the corner of his eye, hid at the bottom of his suitcase the things that would make their anniversary unforgettable.

“Is it the most cliché city to celebrate five years in?” he asked playfully as they crossed the Pont Alexandre III, the Seine sparkling in the sunlight.

“Totalmente. Y absolutamente perfecto.” she replied, with a smile that made his chest warm. (Totally. And absolutely perfect,)

In the following days, they walked slowly through Montmartre, lost themselves in old bookshops, tasted sweets in bakeries that looked like they had come out of a movie, and took photos on every corner as if they were living in a dream. Pedri never took his eyes off her—not when she laughed with a crepe in her hands, nor when she was moved by the immensity of Notre-Dame.

The sixth night arrived colder, but with a typical Parisian charm. Pedri appeared in the hotel room wearing a well-cut suit, black shirt and discreet perfume. She, wrapped in a long dress made of light fabric, carried in her eyes the same emotion of someone who knew that that night would be different.

Without revealing the destination, he drove her through the city's bright streets to a discreet restaurant hidden on one of the rooftops of an elegant building. The maître d’ led them down a glass-enclosed corridor to an exclusive balcony, where a round table awaited them—candles lit, glasses sparkling, and a view that took their breath away: the entire Eiffel Tower, shining against the dark sky, as if it had been decorated just for them.

She put her hand to her mouth in surprise.

“Pedro…”

“Felices cinco años,” he whispered, pulling out the chair for her to sit in. (Happy five years)

Dinner was spent with quiet laughter, long glances, and memories of the past. They talked about their first awkward kiss, their silly fights, the nights when he would come home from a game exhausted but would still call to hear her voice. They talked about love—without having to use the word.

At the end of dessert, Pedri stood up, adjusted his shirt cuffs and excused himself. He returned shortly after with his hands hidden behind his back and a nervous look in his eyes. He stopped next to her chair.

“I thought of a thousand ways to do this. At home, at the beach, in the countryside... but none of them seemed right. Until I imagined this moment” with you, in Paris, celebrating everything we have built.

She looked at him with growing curiosity, her heart racing.

“Do you remember on our first anniversary you gave me a letter saying that you hoped that one day I would be more than your boyfriend?”

She nodded, laughing. She remembered perfectly. He had written in handwriting that he wanted to be “your best friend, your life partner, and if possible, your fiancé… someday.”

Pedri then took a small blue box from behind his back. She put one hand to her chest, frozen. But before she could react, he knelt down—and, upon opening the box, he revealed not a ring, but two delicate, simple, and elegant gold bands.

“I want to ask you something, but not what you are thinking right now.”

She frowned in surprise.

“We’ve chosen each other every day for the past five years. But we’ve never put it into words, or even a symbolic commitment. So…” he held out his hand, “will you marry me?”

She looked at him, between tears and laughter. He smiled back, with a sparkle in his eyes that revealed the seriousness behind the gesture.

“Marry me, I wouldn’t live without you by my side for even a second,” he added, still kneeling.

She got down from her chair without thinking twice and threw herself into his arms, making the waiters discreetly applaud in the background. In the middle of the tight hug, she whispered a "yes" so sincere that it made the whole world seem lighter.

Then he placed the ring on her finger and she did the same. When their eyes met again, everything that was left unsaid was imprinted there—in the silence filled with love, in the delicate touch of their fingers, in the tender kiss that sealed that new phase.

Paris witnessed the most beautiful beginning of a story that two hearts could live. And the Eiffel Tower, behind them, continued to shine — as if it knew exactly what was happening.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[erenjaegerwifee]

Your Excuse To See Me

Request by: @twilightlover2007

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Deacon's case takes him to your bookshop.

Warnings: none, fluff,

Word Count: 2.4k

Disclaimer: all my characters are aged-up! If this makes you uncomfortable please do not interact with my account or any of my notes.

Main M.List | Deacon M.List

“Hey deac” Luca spoke up as Deacon entered the locker rooms. “Morning guys” he replied greeting the rest of the team. “Tan was just telling us about how Bonnie is jealous” Chris spoke up while they all got ready for their shift. “Bonnie is not jealous; I’m telling you guys she isn’t like that” Tan tries to defend. “What happened that everyone things she jealous?” Deacon asked.  

“Last night we went on a date and when we were walking to our apartment in the hallway this girl was getting harassed by this idiot and I helped her out. After he left, she told us she just moved in and it happen to come up she also spoke Cantonese. I happen to mention it was so rare to find another person who speaks it by coincidence and after that Bonnie’s mood has been off. She won’t talk, she’s basically doing everything she can to avoid making eye contact with me.”  

Deacon hisses feigning pain when he hears the story, “hate to break it to you man but that’s jealousy. I can’t believe you can’t wrap your head around this, she is jealous because that woman who speaks your language probably shares your religion and values growing up in a Chinese American home is now living next door to you. She feels less than now that she has someone to compare herself to.”  

Tan took a second to process his words before he finally understands how it all went wrong, he never even thought Bonnie would think like that. “How are you still single? You should have girls falling at your feet” Tan jokes.  

“Jokes on you bro, he does” Street says making everyone laugh as they walk out of the locker room to meet Hondo. Before much words can be exchanged, Hicks walks in with a case assigned to the team. “20-David, we’ve been handed over a case, apparently the financial crimes and the narcotics division can’t solve it and they want us to wrap up this up. Also, we have intel the man doing the money laundering are armed and dangerous.” 

Hicks goes on to explain the details of the case to the team, saying a man who supposedly goes by the name Authur Lopez has been moving money around through other people’s business. He also may be using them as a stash house. The problem is no one can seem to figure out which business he is using to clean his money. “They know he’s dealing but they can’t prove it, we need to find the proof to bring this guy in” 

“We may have a lead though, detective Chase that was previous the lead on this case said he found Auther has an old high school girlfriend who recently moved to town, we aren’t sure if they have had any contact but it’s worth checking out, she might know somewhere he might hide” Hicks finishes up letting the team take the case. Street and Tan both start researching your home and workplace addresses and they found something. 

“She owned a bookshop, just opened a couple months ago, around the same time we caught wind of Authur and around the time she moved into town, her business could be the one she’s using, she sells books, it can be a good cover if her business gets traffic, and judging by the location I think she’d be doing well.” Street says as he pulls up the location of your shop on the screen for the team to see.  

“I found her home address, it’s an apartment complex about 3 blocked from the shop.” Chris says and pulls the location for them to see. “Okay Street, Tan with me we’ll check out her apartment. Luca, Chris and Deacon you can check out her shop she might be there, she what she knows if she’s willing to talk.” Honda hands out their assignments and everyone jumps in a car their destination.   

When Deacon, Chris and Luca arrive at the bookshop they walk in and don’t immediately see anyone around. They walk a little deeper into the shop and you step out from one of the isles the shop isn’t so big that someone can hide, unless they are in the back room. “Hi there, is there something I can help you with?” you say in a sweet voice.  

At the sound of your voice Deacon whips his head, he stutters a bit when he sees you for the first time. Your hair fell curly down your back, you wore jeans that fit your hips but flared down over your ankles with cute brown sandals, you wore a gorgeous floral top that complimented your skin tone so perfectly. “Hi, Ms. Y/n? I’m Sergeant Kay, this is officers Alonso and Luca, we are here to ask you a few questions.”  

You look up at the handsome sergeant standing in front of you and your brain almost lags. “Sure, happy to help” you smile at him clasping your hands together. You gesture to the chairs and small sofas scattered around the room for them to sit and you do the same. “Ms. Y/n, we believe a man you know has been involved in some illegal activity and we wanted to know if you had any information you could share” the girl who’s name you learned was Chris spoke up. 

“Who?’ you asked her, “The name Auther Lopez ring a bell?” Luca asked you. Authur Lopez, you were never able to look at men the same after him, he was your high school sweetheart. You were going to marry him. That was until you found out he was dealing in high school and left him. “A couple months ago he found my shop, said he was keeping tabs on me and asked if I would consider giving him a job. Auther and I dated in high school, I broke up with him when I found out he was dealing, not only that but he was on them. I’m not sure what I never asked. When I hired him, he promised he was clean and so I agreed. Actually, his shift is meant to start in about 10 minutes, he has to come here.” 

“What is he involved in?” You asked them directly your question to no one in particular. “We believe he dealing again, or maybe he never stopped who knows. We need to bring him in a find the location of his stash house before he can distribute his product.” Luca spoke to you.  

“You’re welcome to wait here until he shows then, I had no idea he was still dealing” Luca made a call to someone while Chris asked to look around the shop and you agreed. Deacon didn’t move though, he sat right there in front of you the whole time. “Are you back together?” his voice was quite as he spoke but you heard him, “No, I’m not interested in starting things back up with him, he has done nothing but disappoint me, I only gave him the job because he said he needed it and he was getting clean.” you matched him tone while you looked at him. 

He was so pretty you could barely take your eyes off him, if you weren’t looking at his chest printing out in the tight SWAT t-shirt you were looking at his chocolate brown eyes, if not that, the you have never seen a man look so good with a beard and that usually wasn’t something you’d go for, the hints of grey just did something to your brain.  

Deacon wasn’t any different, he was too busy staring at you to realize you were staring back, he admired the way your curls look so full but not frizzy at the same time, the way he so easily got lost in your beautiful eyes, and let’s not talk about your figure, he has never seen anyone look so beautiful before.  

“So, Sergeant Kay-” 

“Deacon, call me Deacon” 

“Deacon, you’re a SWAT sergeant what is that like?” you smile when you ask him. He was confused for a quick second how did you know he was in SWAT? Until he remembered he was working, he was dressed in uniform. “It’s good, I like it, it’s dangerous and it’s a lot of work but it pays off in the end. So, books?” he returned the question.  

“Yea, I've always been a reader” you giggle as you continue, “It’s very calming to read, takes my mind off things when I’m stressed, a way to pretend you’re someone else.” 

“How could you want to be someone else?” his tone was breathy, it had a hint of a chuckle in it, it made you blush. It was so easy to get caught up in him you forgot all about what he was here for. Luca walked back into the shop; the noise of the chimes pulled you back to reality. He was met with the sight of you and deacon staring at each other with flirtatious smiles and cleared his throat to get your attention. 

“The others arrested Authur on his way here, they have him in custody. Hondo said meet back at HQ” Chris moves out with Luca and Deacon was about to follow them, “Wait!” you stopped him resting you hand on his arm to stop him from walking. You ran into one of the isles and grabbed a book off the shelf, “Here, an excuse for you to come back that isn’t work related. Now you can go” you smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled at your sweet gesture. “I’ll take you up on that.”  

Deacon walked out the bookshop with a wide grin in his face and he sees Chris and Luca waiting for him with matching grins, seems Luca had filled Chris in and they both clocked the book he didn’t walk in there with. “Ouu someone’s got a crush” Chris said in a sing song tone.  

A few days later the case was wrapped up and Deacon was sitting on a comfortable chair in the SWAT main room with his legs propped up as he read the book you gave him. He isn’t you paid attention to the book you handed in when you grabbed it but it was an interesting book.  

He has been teased non-stop by the team since they all heard about what happened, no one can see him sitting with that book in his hand without saying something about you. They even went as far as to make a bookmark with your face on it and stick it in his book so every time he opened it, he would see you. It was entertaining the say the least but now that the book was in his hand and finished, he felt nervous to see you again, this time he had no motive to hide behind other than he just wanted to see your pretty face again. 

“Hey Deac, we’re gonna hit up Luca’s food truck, do you wanna come with?” Chris asked Deacon as she packed up her things at the end of the shift. “I’d love to but, I have to swing by the bookshop and return this book y/n gave me” He waited patiently for the teasing and right on cue, “You going ask her out?” Chris was grinning like a school girl.  

“I want to, I will, I’m gonna...maybe”  

“Sergeant Kay is nervous? There is a first for everything. But seriously all jokes aside, I saw the way you looked at each other. She will say yes, no need to doubt yourself” Chris smiled at him and punched his shoulder as they walk out of the locker room.  

Deacon rushed to his car saying a quick goodbye to the team and driving to the bookshop before you closed. He opened the door and say you writing something sitting on a high chair behind the desk. “Hey” he said with a small smile.  

You look up from your book and smiled when you saw him, “You came back” you said matching his smile as it grew larger, “I guess my excuse to come see you worked, great book by the way, never thought I’d be into enemies to lovers but apparently I am” he chuckled and put the book down on the desk. 

“I’m glad you liked it; I wasn’t sure you were the type” you giggled. There was a moment of silence between you. A moment where you just stared at each other, admiring. “I have to close up the shop now, it was really nice of you to come back Deacon, it was nice to see you” Deacon smiled at your words knowing exactly how you feel.  

“It was nice to see you too.... hey do you want to join me for some dinner? I know a great food truck not far from here, we could swing by and get something” you wanted to burst with happiness, you didn’t think he had it in him to ask you out but he did.  

“Of course I’ll go with you, let me just grab my purse and lock up” you smiled you sweet smile at him and you giddily ran to the back room to get your stuff, hearing him laugh at your antics.  

When he opened the car door for you at the food truck you smiled and took a big inhale. He watched you fall in love with the smell of the food and you walked right up to the menu, “I don’t know what to get” you said to him, “Order for me”  

Deacon was about to speak when he heard his name being called out, his team was still here. He turned his head in sync with yours and watched a bunch of people walk up to you both. You instinctively stepped closer to Deacon but you quickly recognized Chris and Luca from earlier in the week.  

“I see you asked her out” Chris said. 

“I can’t believe it took him so long” another boy said who introduced himself as Jim Street 

“Oh, give him a break, it’s been a week” their team leader spoke up, Hondo. Their comments made you blush and you hid your face with your hands giggling. Deacon put his arm around your shoulder to shield you from the teasing while they laughed at the situation wholeheartedly. You're so happy Sergeant Kay came to your bookshop.  

🔹I hope you all enjoyed reading! I’d love for anyone to Reblog my work, Like and Comment so it can be shared! I’ve been wanting to write for Deacon for a while and I’m finally starting!

🔹On another note. Deacon is hot as fuck. And I want to write him in a nsfw kind of way. Eventually not atm I’d like some feedback on how you would feel after reading my work.

Taglist:

@twilightlover2007 @fluentmoviequoter @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @spnshortcake

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: December 2024

We promised a graphic novel treat for December to send off 2024, which we have at the end of the update, so let's dive in!

Colleen has been working diligently ahead of the graphic novel going to print next month, which she discussed over on Patreon. For those looking for more behind the scenes on both Good Omens and Colleen's work more broadly, we recommend either following her Substack, or subscribing via Patreon, as she approaches the finish line.

A snapshot from our production HQ where dummy books of the graphic novel, slipcase and other editions of Good Omens have been arriving thick and fast. The graphic novel (slipcased version shown) has quite the heft to it. It's going to be such a magnificent object inside and out.

Here, we're testing out the various papers, finishes, embellishments and more – everything is falling into place!

Merch-wise, some more delights. The A.Z. Fell & Co tote bag design is in, one side in celebration of our favourite angelic bookseller, the other as if it's been purchased from the bookshop itself, so you can take your pick.

We've got more pins that will be available in the 3-pin set add ons. While the full list will be available in 2025, we're happy to share a few more to get excited about:

On the trading card front, have a look at some of the base deck designs by Steve Gregson and Kirsty Hunter in situ as this all comes together rather nicely, and causes a heated game or two behind the scenes.

And, a quick admin note to wrap up that we always recommend checking the FAQ page as a first port of call for any queries. If you have questions tied to specific tiers, we'd suggest checking the last few updates if your answer can't be found on the FAQ. If there is any information required for your pledge, we will be in touch. We will be back at full steam in the New Year!

Thank you.

So, to wrap up this year's updates, we give you the draft of the full first scene of the graphic novel, artwork by Colleen Doran and lettering by Lois Buhalis. If you'd like to wait until the graphic novel publishes in Spring, skip everything after the ducks!

To 2025 🥂

Until next time.

+ post from Colleen Doran:

Good Omens: You Get...Stuff Like This

In the most recent Good Omens update at the Kickstarter, a few people got upset at the suggestion that you have to get past my paywall here to see Good Omens updates.

Except you really don't, and the post doesn't actually say you do. You get a bit more, like pics of my studio, a discussion of tools and process - but not all of that is exclusively about Good Omens.

I think the Dunmanifestin team just wanted to draw a little attention to my blogs and other works, for which I am very grateful.

As my Patreon supporters already know, Good Omens info posted here gets to the Substack and Kickstarter eventually. And since most of my posts here aren't just about Good Omens, but my other projects and personal stuff, as well as links to our weekly Virtual Art Studio sessions, I think I'm justified in keeping that material behind a paywall.

In fact, I don't think I've posted much stuff about Good Omens since the summer: pages of flats like the one you see above, a few studio photos, and color tweaks.

Also, me boo-hooing about my nerves and health.

But for those who feel left out missing even this small amount of stuff, then the screen shot above is for you.

That's called a flat.

It's a prelim color before adding final color.

Here's what the final color looks like.

So I've posted a handful of this sort of thing since this summer, but frankly, there's even more of my sketches and so on posted at my Instagram that aren't here at all.

For those who don't know, I am doing most of the color myself on the book, but I am working with assistants. I'm not sure how much the Dunmanifestin team wants out there before the big reveals, but here's a snippet of a sky.

In the first image, my flat color.

And after my assistant worked on it.

Here, I've done a repaint. Sometimes I do very extensive repaints after the assistant works on a page. Sometimes not so much. I didn't use assistants on many pages at all. About 80% of the labor on the color of the book is my work.

However, the assistants have been a big help, and I am very appreciative of them.

I will make a point to go through all my prior posts and get every single bit of art that you haven't seen and make it public for all of you in the coming weeks. I need to excise it from previous posts. As I respect the privacy of all my readers, I never make prior posts public without their permission as they may not want their comments or identities to be public.

Thanks so much for everything!

[monsterblogging]

Fuck JKR: Her “Genius” Writing Style Is Very Simple & Easy To Replicate, Actually

An inevitable consequence of criticizing Harry Potter on the Internet is getting told by numerous people that, in essence, JK Rowling must be some kind of literary genius because her books are so popular and so there must be something really great to them. It's an understandable line of reasoning, if flawed.

See, there is something that makes her books pretty captivating, but it doesn't actually take any extraordinary level of skill or great genius. It's the way she builds a sense of atmosphere and environment with simple, yet high-impact prose, and the way she uses this type of prose to give you very vivid impressions of her characters. The effect is kind of like the literary equivalent of cartoon animation. Not everyone is into it, but it has a certain effect that arguably works fairly well for certain things. And you can learn to do it, too.

So how’s it done? Let’s look at some samples of her writing.

When Harry visits Gringotts, he sees a goblin weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. It’s a very evocative choice of words – first, the the mention of a pile of rubies has us imagining a tantalizing pile of gleaming red gems, but the words as big as glowing coals makes us imagine they’re actually glowing. It’s not a complicated image, but it is an appealing one.

At the bank, Hagrid pulls out a tiny golden key. Again, the description is very simple, but the mention of a little tiny golden object makes our monkey brains pay attention.

When Harry looks inside his own vault, he sees mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

The metal (and therefore color) of each coin is specified, and each type is described with different words – mounds, columns, heaps. The smallness of the Knuts is also mentioned here.

When Harry walks into the bookshop, he sees that the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

There are no colors mentioned here, but various sizes, shapes, materials, and contents are mentioned. Also, the small books aren’t just small – they’re absurdly tiny, which makes them even more attention-grabbing.

When Harry buys potion supplies, colors, textures, and scents come into play (also note how a number of things are shiny and glittering):

Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (‘It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Now let’s look at how Harry gets his wand. After trying out several wands (where their sizes, materials, and textures are all specified!), Ollivander suggests the holly and phoenix feather wand, and:

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Temperature, color, light, and movement all come into play here, and “red and gold sparks” shooting “like a firework” the kind of thing that grabs your attention.

Now let’s look at how the Great Hall is introduced:

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upwards and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

Thousands and thousands of candles. Glittering gold plates and goblets. Faces like pale lanterns. Ghosts shining misty silver. A velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. Nothing here is highly detailed, but it does paint a vivid outline with a lot of attention-grabbing details.

And then take a look at how a number of tantalizing foods are specified at the feast:

The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs.

…

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice-cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding.

At Transfiguration, when students are attempting to turn matches into needles, Hermione’s needle had gone all silver and pointy. Simple, specific words that paint a simple, yet vivid picture.

And here’s how the potions classroom is introduced. Note all of the details here – location, temperature, and objects that add interest to the scene:

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

A here’s how Hagrid’s hut is introduced. Note the details – objects, materials, size, locations, etc:

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire and in a corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

The Weasleys’ garden is full of interest with all of the specific details described:

...there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting – but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flowerbed and a big green pond full of frogs.

And here’s how the Slytherin common room is described. Note how dimensions, colors, textures, and sound all come into play:

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

Take a look at this description of Magical Menagerie:

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every colour, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard coloured furballs that were humming loudly, and, on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats which were playing some sort of skipping game using their long bald tails.

Setting the fact that this is definitely not an ethical petshop aside, there’s a wealth of evocative descriptions here. There’s color, sound, movement, shiny things. “Gulping wetly” and “oozing slowly” also create very specific images.

Now look at how the Great Hall’s Halloween decorations are described in PoA, and note how color and movement comes into play:

It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

Now let’s look at what Harry sees when he goes into Honeydukes. Color, flavor, and whimsical magical effects come into play here:

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were ‘Special Effects’ sweets: Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps (‘breathe fire for your friends!’), Ice Mice (‘hear your teeth chatter and squeak!’), peppermint creams shaped like toads (‘hop realistically in the stomach!’), fragile sugar-spun quills and exploding bonbons.

When Hagrid blows his nose in a handkerchief in GoF, the text describes it as a large, spotted silk handkerchief, specifying its material and pattern.

Now let’s look at how the house that Horace Slughorn stayed in is described. We see the overall impression of the house described, followed up by some specific items that give us a few specifics:

It was stuffy and cluttered, yet nobody could say it was uncomfortable; there were soft chairs and footstools, drinks and books, boxes of chocolates and plump cushions.

Now let’s examine a few character descriptions. Notice where colors, shapes, etc. come in, and how they use simple, yet vivid descriptions overall:

First, Albus Dumbledore’s introduction:

He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.

Next, McGonagall’s:

Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun.

Now Remus Lupin’s:

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes which had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though he seemed quite young, his light-brown hair was flecked with grey.

And let’s look at Sirius Black’s introduction:

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn’t been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin.

Now let’s look at how Madame Maxime is introduced:

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage – a shoe the size of a child’s sled – followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow – maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid – this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face, large, black, liquid-looking eyes and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

And Fleur Delacour:

A long sheet of silvery blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Rowling’s character descriptions are cartoonish, in that they emphasize a few key details in vivid language rather than describe a fine-detailed picture. As long as you’re not creating a hateful or degrading caricature, it’s generally fine. Not everybody’s going to be into it in the same way not everyone’s going to be into cartoons, but there’s nothing wrong with cartoons.

All right, so let’s recap: Rowling’s writing doesn’t go into a lot of descriptive detail, but it frequently mentions colors, materials, patterns, shapes, sizes, textures, sounds, temperatures, smells locations – anything that would immediately stand out to the senses if you were there. It uses evocative words that call up vivid mental images.

She’s not some kind of genius for doing this; it’s extremely easy to do and plenty of other writers have done it. The main thing is just getting into the habit of giving attention to your characters’ surroundings. I suggest that when you begin writing a passage, take a moment to think of a few things that can be seen, a few things that can be heard, a few things that can be felt, a few things that can be smelled, and a few things that can be tasted. Also, think about what you could mention to create the kind of atmosphere you want or to create interest.

Here are some examples:

The old-fashioned kitchen had been done up in cream and yellow, and the smell of cinnamon from the French toast sizzling on the stove filled the air.

She was thin, and wore a bright pink knee-length dress and a pair of neon green sunglasses. Her hair was in tight blond curls, and when she grinned she revealed a mouth full of gleaming shark teeth.

The temperature inside the old house felt ten degrees colder than outside, and he could hear what sounded like the moans of the dead coming from beneath the dust-covered floorboards.

Just play around and experiment with this for awhile, and you’ll find that it doesn’t take a huge amount of effort to write prose like this – which means you can basically give yourself the same mood you got from the books with literally anything you want.

[all-the-hyper-fixations]

How Aziraphale and Crowley would propose to each other: (part 1)

yall we all know Crowley would freak out about it for ages

he would have every little detail meticulously planned out months in advance like the romantic he really is

Aziraphale totally knew he was going to propose for ages (Crowley literally left the business pamphlet for the engagement photographer on the bookshop table by accident on two separate occasions)

he spent hours arguing with the ringsmith to make sure that the ring was PERFECT

inscribed on it in looping cursive is the phrase "my world"

one spring morning Aziraphale woke up to find a note next to his pillow that just read 'Angel - Berkeley square. 2:00.'

(Crowley had re-written that note over 30 times, attempts ranging from a page long love letter to two words on a piece of otherwise blank paper.)

Aziraphale, of course, made sure to wear his best outfit for the occasion, seeing as Crowley was probably the least-subtle being in the universe when it came to secret proposal planning.

Crowley's speech was hesitant at first, like he half expected to be turned down, but as he began speaking the words he had prepped and scrapped and written over and over again, his confidence grew until he was able to meet Aziraphale's eyes and see the blazing in his Angel's expression.

In the end, he forgot most of what he had planned to say, and just started saying what he felt was right.

Crowley: We've known each other a long time - we're a group, a team. A team of the two of us. And we've spent our entire existence pretending that we're not...apart from these last few years, which have been the best years of my life...Angel? Make me the happiest demon in the world, which, I know, is basically like asking you to make me the fastest sloth, but I -

Aziraphale: Oh Crowley...oh Crowley, Yes.

Crowley: ...Yes?

Azriaphale: Yes.

[mimisempai]

A kind of magic

Summary

Crowley enters the bookshop and finds Aziraphale knitting. Something he has never seen him do since they met. Naturally, he wants to know all about it.

Notes

It's spring and I'm still cold, so a bit of fluff to keep me warm.

On Ao3

Rating G - 599 words

"What are you doing, Angel?" 

The demon could not hide the surprise in his voice as he entered the living room to see his lover knitting.

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley as his hands continued to move, the needles clicking as he continued his work.

He smiled in amusement and replied with a question, "What do you think I'm doing, my dear?" 

Crowley gestured to the angel's hands as he sat down next to Aziraphale on the sofa, the angel turning to face him.

"Since when do you knit? I don't think I've seen you do it in all the time we've known each other."

Crowley had asked the question softly, without a trace of judgment in his voice.

Aziraphale replied with a slight blush in his cheeks, "Since today?"

"Oh, and is there any particular reason you started today?"

Aziraphale gently placed his work on the coffee table, then raised his hand and placed it on Crowley's cheek, "Every time you come in, your cheeks are red from the cold. I noticed you didn't have a scarf, so I decided to take matters into my own hands, literally."

Crowley laughed softly without mocking Aziraphale, "You really are too adorable, you know..."

Then he wrapped an arm around the angel's shoulders and pulled him closer, capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

For a long minute, the half-knit scarf lay on the table, and if Crowley's cheeks flushed, it wasn't from the cold. 

A little later, Aziraphale had returned to his knitting, and Crowley had leaned his head against the angel's shoulder, his feet up on the sofa, watching him, not knowing what was more fascinating, the focused expression on his lover's face or the nimble fingers that gave Crowley the impression he was watching magic being performed.

He kissed the shoulder under his cheek and said softly, so as not to disturb Aziraphale, "You know, Angel, I really believe you don't have to be an angel to do magic."

"Hm?"

Aziraphale gave Crowley a puzzled look.

"That drive you have inside of you to want everyone around you to be happy all the time, and especially to act accordingly, that's magic, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale chuckled self-deprecatingly: "There's nothing magical about it."

Crowley sat up, took Aziraphale's face in his hands and, looking into his lover's eyes, said in a determined voice that allowed no contradiction, "It is magical for the person you do it for, I promise you, Aziraphale. I am the first to testify to that and I know many people who could testify as well."

He sealed his words with a kiss, leaving Aziraphale no time to respond.

A little later, Aziraphale had once again resumed his knitting and Crowley was reading the newspaper at the other end of the sofa, his feet on Aziraphale's knees, in peaceful silence.

Aziraphale broke the silence and said hesitantly, "I'm afraid sometimes that you put me on a pedestal and I don't live up to your expectations. I'm not perfect, you know."

Crowley moves closer and says, "I know that, Angel. But you will never disappoint me because I have no expectations of you, just as I know you have none of me. Both you and I have long been subject to the expectations of others, so I certainly do not want that in our relationship."

Aziraphale nodded gently and leaned forward to give Crowley a tender kiss.

And these days, though winter was supposed to be over several weeks ago, it was not uncommon to see Crowley strolling down Whickber Street, the red scarf proudly wrapped around his neck.

_________

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 : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[aziraphales-library]

I just finished Among the stacks and I’m wondering if there’s any other fics where Aziraphale forgets Crowley or something and then finds out he’s a demon and is initially shocked/scared?

Thanks!

You'll fics along these lines on our #memory loss, #human aziraphale, and #mistaken for human tags. Here are a mix for you...

Your face is like a melody by Primroza (T)

Crowley accidentally takes over the bookshop. His new routine is interrupted by amnesiac Aziraphale returning. Crowley is determined to help him even though he knows Aziraphale will leave him again as soon as he remembers. *** “Oh my, I do apologize!” Aziraphale says. “I did not mean to startle you.” “Ngk,” says Crowley. He isn’t sure what’s the protocol for when the love of your life walks back into your life after rejecting you. But he sure as Hell knows that clumsily climbing out from under the armchair is a bad start.

Anything for you, anything at all by angelsnuffbox (E)

Aziraphale, an ordinary bookshop owner in Soho, has been friends with Anthony J. Crowley for well over three years now, but sometimes he thinks that he isn't fully human. He can't be.

Let's Try This Again, Shall We? by todays_keysmash_is (T)

When Crowley and Aziraphale first meet, they mistakenly believe each other to be human. After falling in love and leading human lives together, Crowley is shocked to discover Aziraphale's angelic identity. Crowley knows that if he revealed his demonic self, Aziraphale would smite him on the spot- but he can only masquerade as a snake for so long, and the Apocalypse is coming.

Light the Corners of my Mind by cyankelpie (G)

Aziraphale, thirty-eighth order scrivener—at least, that's who they told him he was—wakes up from some perfectly normal memory loss to find a cryptic note written on his hand. The further he goes in his search for answers, the more questions he has. Will he ever learn why he was demoted to a desk job? Or how he'd managed to collect enough books to open a bookshop? Or why that familiar red-haired demon on Earth seems to be avoiding him?

Beware of the Snake by walking_contradiction42 (G)

Aziraphale has spent his many years on earth in solitude, feeling alienated from his fellow angels and somewhat distant from the humans surrounding him. His only friend is a common garden snake, resident in St. James Park. Or maybe the snake is not so common. Crowley just feels like, at this point, he is in way too deep and there is no way he can ever reveal his true identity to Aziraphale. Then things happen. The apocalypse is only one of them.

With you, with me by NohaIjiachi (T)

“Oh, shit,” Crowley muttered, but it came out more like ‘ohkjfd—‘ The man— A bloody priest was still keeping his umbrella over Crowley. The fabric of his button-up had darkened on his shoulders, now throughly drenched. He could see more details, now, and Crowley stared. The priest had round, gentle features, and a shock of hair so blond it looked white collected in messy, soft curls. There was some sense of deep-sedated sadness in his grey-blue eyes, as he looked down at Crowley. “I’d imagine that you need to get back up on your feet, then, son,” the priest said, sounding somehow tired. “You can’t stay here.” “…I have nowhere to go,” Crowley replied, feeling like his tongue was double in size in his mouth. It was a lie, and wasn’t one at the same time. He could technically go anywhere he wanted, as long as the Bentley stopped pouting at him for getting high again, but he had nowhere to go.

And the one you mentioned...

Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos (NR)

Nearly a year after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, he vanishes from existence, leaving Crowley bereft on Earth. Just when the demon has finally started to heal and move on with his life, he finds his angel by chance in a library. But Aziraphale has no memory of his life as an angel, or of Crowley. How will our hero cope?

- Mod D

[anthonyjcrowleyfell]

My aggravatingly crafty husband has decided to decorate our home with little white sheets that he actually cut from bed linens. They’re everywhere, including hanging from some of the plants. It’s difficult to discipline the greenery whilst there are utterly ridiculous sheets with googly eyes discouraging proper behavior and encouraging… fun.

[queerfables]

Alright GO fans, let's talk Sodom and Gomorrah. This biblical story comes up a few times in Good Omens canon, a kind of offhand mention each time, and the most interesting part to me is the implication that Aziraphale was there.

If you only know the cliff-notes version, you've probably heard it as the story of God condemning homosexuality to the point of wiping out several cities over it. Maybe you've heard this too, but - that's not exactly what happened. Look, I'm an atheist, I have no dog in this race. If I thought it was about smiting people for homosexuality, I'd be happy to call God a wanker and move on. But I've read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (You can too! It's very short!) and I've read other parts of the Bible that reference it, and I think a much more straightforward interpretation is that it's about offering hospitality and protection to strangers. It's also about the consequences of wanton cruelty, and God laying waste to those deemed beyond salvation.

In Good Omens, the book, Aziraphale and Crowley discuss Sodom and Gomorrah this way:

"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."

According to the book, then, Aziraphale at least saw the city after it was destroyed. Maybe Crowley saw the aftermath too or maybe he just heard about it. They both understand it as horrific.

The show is more direct, and suggests that Aziraphale was there during the actual destruction. Gabriel asks if Aziraphale remembers Sandalphon. Aziraphale does.

"Sodom and Gomorrah. You were doing a lot of smiting and turning people into salt. Hard to forget."

Aziraphale regards Sandalphon warily during the conversation. I believe we're supposed to interpret this scene based on the popular understanding of Sodom and Gomorrah as cities that God wiped out because of the inhabitants' sins. The obvious implication, then, is that Sandalphon is the heavy, the one called in to deal with disobedience. He's trigger-happy, relishes violence, and Aziraphale has seen what he's capable of. From the careful way Aziraphale discusses their prior acquaintance, I think he feels the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was a tragedy and believes Heaven's actions were disproportionate and unjust.

I'm confident this is how we're supposed to read the scene. In the context of the story, we're supposed to understand that Aziraphale doesn't approve of the smiting, and that he feels threatened by Gabriel and Sandalphon coming into his bookshop and pressing him about Armageddon. But I'm fascinated by what it would mean if Aziraphale and Sandalphon's history really tracks onto the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Because if Good Omens' version of Sodom and Gomorrah is at all biblically accurate, and if Aziraphale was there... it's kind of mind-blowing, actually, that he still feels so much compassion for the people who died and still thinks Sandalphon was wrong.

I'm going to explain why, but fair warning, it gets ugly. I promise nobody is actually raped, and I think that promise in itself says plenty.

According to the Bible, Sodom and its surrounding cities are accused of being overrun with sin. God sends two angels to Sodom to verify this, intending to destroy everything if they find it to be true. In the world of Good Omens, I think one of these angels must be Aziraphale. The other one is likely Sandalphon, but in the Bible it's God rather than either of the angels who rains down burning sulfur on the cities so it's possible it's someone else, and Sandalphon is only on smiting duty. Without anything else to go on, though, let's assume it's Sandalphon.

So our two angels arrive at Sodom in the evening, and at the gate to the city, they meet Lot. Lot is an immigrant who has made his home in Sodom, and I think the implication is that this is why he's not completely steeped in sin like everyone else. In any case, he immediately offers to put the angels up for the night, and although they'd planned to stay in the square, Lot is really insistent. He is a good host! Also, he knows the city is dangerous. So the angels go to his house and he makes dinner for them, and then before they can go to bed, a mob shows up at the door.

See, the men of Sodom have heard about the strangers staying with Lot. They surround his house and demand he hand them over. The New King James Version puts it this way: And they called to Lot and said to him, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may know them carnally." Several other translations say that the men wanted to "have sex with them". But I mean. It's a fucking mob. They've surrounded the house. We all get what this is, right?

So Lot goes out to meet the men, and he says "Don't do this terrible thing." Off to a good start! Then he says, "Tell you what, I have two virgin daughters. Do what you like to them and we'll say no more about it." Oh boy. Dad of the year award, right there. But still, he insists, "The angels are under my roof and my protection."

The men outside Lot's house are pissed. They say, "You're an outsider, who are you to judge us?" They threaten to do worse to him than to the angels. They swarm him and almost break the door down, but the angels pull him back inside.

The angels then strike the mob with blindness to stop them getting into the house. They say to Lot, "Look, you gotta take your family and get out of here. God sent us to see how bad things were and, uh, long story short, we're burning it all to the ground. You get it, right?"

Maybe you know the rest. Lot's son-in-laws don't believe him and won't leave the city. Lot's wife looks back and turns into a pillar of salt. Lot and his daughters take shelter in a small town called Zoar, and from there flee to the mountains. Everything else is destroyed.

It is a tragedy. The plains are leveled down to ash, until there's nothing left that can even grow. Was there really no one innocent in those cities? No children or animals? (You can't kill kids). Still, I think about that awful night under Lot's roof and I don't think I could blame anyone for giving up on all of it.

So what if that's the story? There were two angels in Sodom before it fell. What if it really was Aziraphale and Sandalphon, trapped through the night in a stranger's house, surrounded by men who want to rape them. Whatever their power as angels, that has to be terrifying.

If it was Sandalphon there with Aziraphale that night in Sodom, I have to wonder what he was like. There isn't any kinship or understanding from Aziraphale. Despite knowing the circumstances better than anyone, he still sees Sandalphon as a threat. Given that, I think Sandalphon must have taken a truly disturbing kind of joy in raining down vengeful fire and brimstone, beyond what you might expect from someone who was afraid or angry. Maybe he was never afraid; maybe instead he revelled in the violence building through the night as the reason he needed to tear everything down. Maybe he was afraid in the terrible way that exposes the depths someone will sink to to protect themselves (maybe offering his daughters was never Lot's idea). Or maybe Aziraphale just tried to reach out to him afterwards, to offer understanding and ask for some in return, and Sandalphon shot him down so coldly and viciously that Aziraphale knew immediately this wasn't something he was allowed to have feelings about. Whatever happened that night, it left Aziraphale feeling more of an outsider from Heaven than ever.

But if it happened that way, it happened this way too: Aziraphale survives a night like that, and when he looks out into the breaking dawn, he thinks, these cities don't deserve to burn. He sees the good in a place that's just shown him its absolute worst. I think that says everything about him as a character, actually. Of course he won't give up on Heaven. Of course he'll fight tooth and nail for his home on Earth. Whatever the worst is, there are still things worth saving. There are still, always, people worth protecting.

On that note, before I wrap this up, I want to go back to Lot's words to the men of Sodom, and draw a parallel that makes me feel some kind of way. Because when Lot declares the angels under his protection, what he says is essentially, "Do not do anything to these men, for they have come under the shadow of my roof for protection." And all I can think about, reading these lines, is Aziraphale standing in his bookshop as it's surrounded by hostile demons, and telling the angel under the shadow of his roof, "You came to me. I said I would protect you. And I will."

[crowsofdarkness]

Neighbors: Part Two

-gif/pictures not mine. credit to owner. I created the collage cover-

Parings: Bill Skarsgard x OFC! Rose

Word Count: 4,217

Content Warnings: language, angst, mentions of traumatic birth, mentions of dark thoughts.

Summary: Bill finally reads the letter Rose left him underneath his door all those months ago.

Authors Note: So this will be a three-parter! I'm not sure when the final part will be posted.

Read Part One first.

ROSE

Letting out a long yawn, I pulled the front door to my bookshop closed tight and tucked my jacket closer to my chest. It was Sunday evening, which meant I closed the shop at five but stayed back in my office for three hours to do office work since I’d been extremely behind the last few weeks. 

Hell, I’d been extremely behind with everything in my life the last few months. 

Quickly typing away a message to my across the hall neighbor Betty letting her know that I’ll be back home in less than five minutes; my bookstore was right around the block from my apartment and I always walked to and from. 

Betty: No worries, hun. We’re all good here.

Pocketing my phone, I adjusted my bag over my shoulder and turned the corner to see my apartment complex come into view. I wanted nothing more than to take a hot bubble bath, lounge on my couch with my favorite cop show, and fast asleep by eleven. But I knew that was a pipe dream. I hadn’t been able to have a night like that in months. 

Stepping through the lobby, I smiled at a few of my fellow neighbors who were at their mailboxes and was thankful no one was in the elevator with me, not having the energy for conversation. The second I stepped off the elevator once the doors opened, my eyes immediately landed on Betty, who was standing in front of my door. 

“Hey, everything alright?” I asked. 

Her pepper colored hair had fallen out of the bun she had it in earlier today and she hastily pushed away the lose strands with one hand while the other hand held onto Floki’s leash. 

“Oh, hi hon. She was a bit fussy tonight so I took her for some fresh air. I hope that’s alright.” 

Immediately I waved her off and set my bag on the floor so I could give some love to Floki. 

“More than alright, Betty. You don’t even have to ask,” I smiled at her before bending at the knees to smile at the sleeping form in the stroller. “Seems like fresh air always helps.”

Betty nodded with her own smile, slowly pushing the stroller back and forth. “She last had a bottle about twenty minutes ago before our walk. So you should be good for a few hours.”

I know I shouldn’t do this but I’d been gone for fifteen hours today and I missed the baby smell. I missed my daughter. Picking up Astrid, I held my seven week old daughter close to my chest, leaving kisses all over the top of her head. 

“Betty, I don’t know what I would do without you. You’ve helped me so much the last few months. I wish I could repay you somehow,” I said the same words I always did when I picked up Astrid from her. 

“Now what did I say about those words?” My older neighbor pointed a finger at me. “I know first hand how hard it is to be a single mother. I had no help so I refuse to have someone as good as you go through it alone.”

“Was Floki a good boy today?” I motioned towards my cocker spaniel, who had been sitting quietly in front of my apartment door. 

“He was the absolute best boy,” Betty beamed while scratching Floki’s head. “I can’t believe you trained him to grab the diapers for you!” 

I did the best I could do shrug while still holding Astrid. “He’s a smart pup, what can I say?”

We chatted for a few more minutes and when Astrid began to fuss in my arms, Betty offered to hold her which I gladly allowed. 

“You can go home, you know? You’ve had a long day.” I said while unlocking my door, but not yet opening it. 

By now, Astid was wide awake playing with Betty’s necklace. “I don’t see my grandkids much since they live in California so I’m soaking up these moments even though I’m technically off the clock.” 

I giggled. “Well, I don’t need you tomorrow. I decided to close the bookshop. I need a day home to recoup.” 

“Very well deserved, Rose,” Betty hummed. “You’ve been working all day every day for the last month. Not to mention, being on your own for your entire pregnancy. I’m glad you took my help last month.”

“Which is why I’m so thankful for you, Betty,” I squeezed her arm. “You’re here all day watching Astrid for me so I can keep my business running.”

“It helps that your daughter is such an easy baby,” she said. 

Internally I had to snicker at that comment because for me, Astrid had been anything but easy. For the first few weeks, I did everything on my own. Stayed up all night nearly every night because all Astrid would do was cry. No matter how many times I fed, walked, or laid her in her swing, she was never happy unless she was held in my arms. Which made things hard for me, especially running my bookstore. I had it closed for an entire month, opening it a few weeks ago, so that’s why I spent the last couple of nights staying well past closing to catch up. 

“Did you ever talk to Astrid’s father?” Betty asked, wrapping the blanket tighter around Astrid. 

At the mention of him, I did my best to hide the distaste that was so close to appear on my face. I never told Betty who Astrid’s father was, only kept my answers simple when she asked. 

“Just a one time hookup. Wasn’t anything important.”

“I haven’t heard from him in almost a year,” I answered, flicking my eyes over towards the door next to mine. 

Apartment 4C. 

“Do you want me to stay and help you put Astrid to bed? I don’t mind,” Betty asked, changing the subject when she realized how uncomfortable I became at the mention of Astrid’s father. 

“You’ve been here long enough, Betty. Go home and rest,” I told her one more time, reassuring her Astrid and I would be fine tonight. “But do you mind holding her for me for a few more minutes so I can get Floki inside first? I don’t need him running off tonight.”

“Of course, hon.” 

I grabbed Floki’s leash and headed inside of my apartment. Once he was settled inside of my bedroom, I tossed my things onto my couch before walking towards the open door, hearing voices.

“Bill! It’s so good to see you!” 

Nearly stumbling over my feet, I felt my heart lurch in my throat when I came to a halt in my doorway, watching someone I thought I’d never see again.

“Oh, I can’t even begin to say how much I’ve missed your warm smile, Betty. How have you been?” Bill gave her a smile while stepping off the elevator. 

I still couldn’t move, couldn’t fucking breathe at seeing him again. He still looked breathtakingly gorgeous like he did that night. Some facial hair covered his face and I wanted nothing more than to feel it beneath my fingers. 

Focus! Don’t forget what he did to you!

A low scowl fell on my lips as Bill smiled at Astrid, who had woken up at the sound of voices. 

“Hi,” he cooed while wiggling a finger at her. “Is this your granddaughter, Betty?”

“No. This is Astrid, Rose’s daughter. She’s almost two months old.”

Just as my name sounded, I stepped through the threshold and Bill’s eyes landed on me, both of us frozen in time. Everything fell away as he continued to stare at me before slowly grazing his eyes over to Astrid then finally, back to me. It was as if he was thinking something over in his mind, over and over. As if a lightbulb went off in his head, Bill’s lips began to part just before Astrid began to cry which seemed to have broken me from my trance. 

“Uh,” I shook my head and gently took Astrid from Betty. “I should get her inside and get her a bottle.” 

“You sure you don’t want any help, hon?”

I quickly shook my head again at Betty, quietly bidding her a goodnight and watched as she stepped into her apartment across the hall. Still avoiding my tearful gaze at Bill, I pulled the stroller into my apartment and was about to shut the door when a strong hand halted my door from moving. 

“Rose?” Bill’s voice was quiet, eyes still darting between me and Astrid. “This is-.” 

“Please move. I need to shut my door,” I said with more conviction than I was feeling.

“Rose,” he tried again, his tall frame all encompassing around me. 

Astrid continued to fuss in my arms no matter how much I soothed her. 

“Leave, Bill. Now,” I said one more time. “I need to get her to bed.”

His eyes shone even though his lips were pulled down in a frown. “She’s mine?” 

I scoffed, slicing my eyes into him. “You’re joking, right? You’ve ignored me for nearly a fucking year and you have the audacity to assume she’s yours.”

As Bill started to speak, he removed his hand from my door and I took the opportunity to slam it in his face. Not before saying my final words. 

“Do what you have been doing the last year and ignore me; ignore us. Because frankly, we don’t need you. I didn’t need you my entire pregnancy, the entire birth, or the long sleepless nights. I’ve been raising Astrid by myself for the last two months. If you didn’t want to be part of her life, all you had to do was be up front and tell me. Instead, you ignored my letter and every time I knocked. You avoided me for a year because you couldn’t step up to be a father.”

“Please, Rose-.” 

“Goodbye, Bill.”

The last thing I saw before the door slammed in Bill’s face was the broken expression that crossed his soft features. 

ROSE

I awoke with a start, Astrid’s cries from her bassinet next to my bed making me rise up quickly. My room was still blanketed in darkness and the clock on my end table told me it was only two in the morning, meaning I only got an hour of sleep before Astrid woke me. 

I couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard I tried. Astrid went down pretty easily after a warm breath and bottle. Floki was quiet tonight, not barking at every little noise, which helped. He was currently laying on the pillow next to me, quietly whining. I scratched his ear, knowing how he didn’t like it when Astrid cried. 

All I thought about while trying to sleep was Bill. I’d been doing okay without him, finally starting to find a rhythm that worked for me and Astrid. Then all of a sudden, he decided to show his face. I wasn’t about to let him in Astrid's life even if he was her father. He ignored both of us, and avoided seeing me in the complex when he was here. I knew he’d been off filming throughout the last year due to what other people in the complex told me. But for him to have read the letter I slipped underneath his door and ignored it cut me so incredibly deep. 

That night in the laundry room, both of us were stupid. Having sex without protection but I truly thought we’d be fine since I was on birth control. When I brought it up to my doctor at my first appointment, she told me that since I was on antibiotics at the time, that tends to cancel out my birth control. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” I soothed Astrid. “Momma’s here.” 

Everything was not alright. 

It was almost four in the morning and Astrid had not stopped crying for the last hour no matter what I did. I fed her, changed her, rocked her, and put her in her swing. None of it worked. Hell, I even gave her a few more ounces of formula thinking she must have still been hungry but that didn’t work. So now, I was walking the length of my apartment while holding Astrid close to my chest as sang a soft tune to her. All of the lights were off in my apartment, albeit the one above the stove in my kitchen. Floki was following my steps, gazing those eyes up at me, and his soft whines filled the apartment. It was a big adjustment for him when I brought Astrid home but he warmed up to her almost immediately. He protected her and always watched as Astrid slept. 

“She’s okay,” I assured my cocker spaniel. “She’s just tired.”

Astrid continued to cry, her screams piercing my ears, and guilt ate away at me knowing how thin the walls of the apartment were. I didn’t doubt we were keeping our neighbors up and after the long day Betty already had, I didn’t need her to come over to see if I needed help. Even though I would gladly accept her help since I was seconds away from screaming myself and sitting in the middle of my bed to dissociate, I couldn’t bother her. 

“Please,” I begged Astrid as I started another lap in my living room. “Can we try and sleep? Momma is so tired, I just need a few hours.”

My entire life was a mess, along with my living room that had dirty spit up rags and laundry scattered on the couch which was clean thankfully. There was a pile of dried up formula on the floor in my kitchen because earlier I had dropped the bottle I was making but couldn’t clean it up right away. My garbage was piling up, not having the time tonight to throw it out. Betty offered to clean up my apartment while she watched Astrid but I very quickly shot her down. She does enough for me, I couldn’t ask her to clean my mess. 

I was covered in spit up and it felt like needles were continuously stabbing my brain every time she cried and I couldn’t take it any longer. I knew it wasn’t her fault, Atrid was a baby. She couldn’t tell me what was wrong. It was up to me and my instincts to figure it out. But all these weeks later and it was clear my instincts were shit. 

My feet came to a halt in the middle of my living room, my mind becoming almost a frozen state while Astrid continued to cry and Floki nails clicked against the hardwood floor as he paced circles around me. Everything was becoming too much, I felt myself becoming overstimulated and I was honestly afraid of what would happen if she didn’t stop.

I would never hurt Astrid. I would rather do something to myself before ever laying a finger on her. 

Suddenly a tender knock tapped against the wood of my door, breaking my trance from the blue of Astrid’s eyes, filled with tears. My own tears were threatening to spill as I ran a shaky hand through my copper hair, mentally preparing myself for whoever was on the other side of the door at four a.m. It couldn’t be a good thing. The last time someone knocked at my door this early, it was someone from the floor below to complain to keep it down since some people in the apartment worked early. 

As if I weren’t opening up my book store every day at eight a.m. every day. 

The knock sounded again breaking me fully from my trance so with tentative steps, I walked over to the door; Astrid was still crying and now Floki was barking which only added more to my already over-stimulated mind. I was seconds away from yelling out my frustrations. All I needed was one more thing to push me over the edge. 

And when I saw who was on the other side of my door through the peephole, I let out a scream. 

“Go away, Bill! 

“Rose, please,” his voice sounded through the door. “I just want to help. I can hear her crying.” 

Scoffing, I practically ripped open the door, blocking Floki from running out with my foot. Bill stood in front of me wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt that clung to all of his muscles. The flannel he wore over the shirt was unbuttoned and his broad arms were crossed over his chest as those eyes pierced me in place; they were filled with so much sadness, it almost made me feel sorry for him. 

Almost. 

“Now you want to help?” I questioned while adjusting Astrid. “Where the fuck were you a year ago? Or two months ago when I almost died during her birth?! The recovery? I did it all myself, the first few weeks were so fucking hard. I was supposed to be resting but I didn’t get that chance! If it wasn’t for Betty, I don’t know how much longer I could have done it on my own.” 

“I didn’t know,” Bill shook his head. “I just got back. I found that note you left me when I got home earlier tonight. I swear.” 

I didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, my still crying daughter, or Floki trying to jump up at Bill, but his words were the final straw in how the last few months have been. 

Hell, the last year has been. 

Tears fell from my eyes and snot gathered at my nose but I didn’t have a free hand to wipe my face. 

“So what? You dip out for a fucking year after you fucked me in the laundry room? Was it that bad you avoided me?” 

“Rose,” Bill sighed. 

“You can’t disappear for a year and expect me to allow you in our lives,” I sniffled, gently trying to soothe Astrid, who seemed to have calmed down a bit. 

Maybe she was finally getting tired. 

“I didn’t know, Rose!” He repeated while running a hand over his face. “I spent four months filming and then the rest of the time I was in Sweden with my family. I got back earlier tonight and that’s when I read your note with the sonogram.” 

I studied his eyes for a moment as they filled with tears and gnawed on the inside of my cheek. As if he could tell I was still hesitant with him, Bill spoke again. 

“If I would have known before, I would not have left you to do this alone,” he swore, taking a very cautious step towards me. 

“I thought you were on the pill.” 

I gave a curt nod. “I was but I also was on antibiotics since I was sick then, those two seem to cancel each other out.”

Silence filled the air for a beat until Bill motioned behind me. “Can I please come in so we can talk?” 

“Bill,” I sighed. “I’ve only had one hour of sleep and I’m tired. The last thing I want to do is to have a screaming match with you while she just fell asleep.” 

By now, she seemed to have fallen asleep in my arms and I let out a long breath of relief. It was practically visible that the weight of the last few hours had lifted from my shoulders. 

Floki was trying to maneuver his way from around my leg to get out, most likely wanting to go use the bathroom since it has been a few hours since he was last out. Guilt ate away at me knowing that I couldn’t take him out until Astrid woke up later and we could go for our morning walk. 

Bill must have noticed my dilemma so he motioned towards Floki. “I can take him for a walk while you put Astrid down.”

My lips parted but with the pleading look in his eyes, I paused. It was evident he wanted to help. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I needed it. 

“Uh,” I nodded towards the hook next to the front door of my apartment. “His harness is right there. It usually takes him walking for five minutes before he goes.”

A small smile pulled at Bill’s lips. “I’ll make sure to take my time so you can have a few moments of peace to yourself.” 

With a nod, I stepped to the side to let him inside of my apartment, not bothering to stare at those ocean blue eyes any longer. I knew if I did, the walls that I built up to protect Astrid and I would come crumbling down. Giving him my back, I walked into my bedroom and locked the door behind me. 

Thankfully when I transferred Astrid into her bassinet next to my bed, she stayed asleep so I decided to take a long, hot shower in the bathroom that was connected to my room. I heard the front door open about twenty minutes ago to close a few moments after. Once I was out of the shower dressed in an oversized shirt and shorts, I checked on Astrid to make sure she was still asleep. I decided on grabbing a snack before climbing into bed to sleep. 

Not to mention, I probably should check on Floki to make sure he was fine after his walk. 

Quietly shutting the bedroom door behind me, I took all of two steps into my living room when I came to a halt. My entire apartment was spotless, even the floors were freshly mopped. The clean smell filling my nostrils. The pile of clean clothes were folded neatly on my couch and there was a basket of dirty clothes in a basket set next to my front door, ready to get taken to the laundry room. Floki was curled up in his bed in front of the electric fireplace, sleeping soundly. It seemed as if the walk Bill took him on tired him out. 

I walked into the kitchen to see Bill putting a fresh bag into the garbage and let out a quiet gasp when I noticed how spotless my kitchen was as well. 

“Hey, I thought you’d be asleep,” he said while looking over at me. 

“I decided to take a shower before. Did you clean my apartment?” I asked while pointing to the space around me. 

He scratched at the side of his head, all nervous. “Yeah, I hope that was alright. I meant it when I said I wanted to help you, Rose.”

I shifted on my feet as the feeling of relief filled my veins. I wanted to be angry with him but the more I thought about it while I was in the shower, I knew that I couldn’t hold it against him that he didn’t know. Bill was gone this last year working and visiting his family in Sweden. 

What’s stopping him from doing that again? Leaving you and Astrid alone, again?

As much as I wanted to ignore the voice in my mind, I couldn’t. There wasn’t a doubt that Bill would be leaving again, maybe soon, and would be gone for weeks at a time. He would be in and out of Astrid’s life when she needed stability. 

“Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to.”

Bill stuffed his hand in the pockets of his sweats and nodded. “I’m here for you, Rose. For both of you.”

The burn began to rise in my throat when I heard the sincerity in his voice and there were tears in the corner of my eyes. That familiar heavy weight of guilt was deep in my gut and I couldn’t take another moment of looking at Bill knowing that I wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted. I needed to think of my daughter. 

Astrid is his daughter, too. 

Blinking away the tears, I threw a thumb over my shoulder towards my bedroom. “I-uh-I’m going to get some sleep before Astrid wakes up. Even if it’s a few hours. Can you lock the door behind you when you leave, please?” 

I could tell he wanted to say something but refrained. Instead, he went a different route. Pulling something from his pocket, Bill handed me a small piece of paper which I took hesitantly. 

“It’s my phone number. I really want to try, Rose. As long as you’d let me. I want to be in Astrid’s life.”

I stared down at the paper in my hand for a very long moment before gazing up at him through my lashes. 

“Thank you again for taking Floki for a walk and cleaning my apartment. I appreciate it,” my voice was quiet as I turned on my heels to head into my room. 

Bill called after me, his voice begging me to stop. “Rose, please. Can you at least let me try?” 

Looking over my shoulder, I let out a shaky breath while shrugging my shoulders. “I don’t know, Bill.”

Telling him once more to lock the door on his way out, I slipped inside my bedroom, shutting the door and him out of my life. 

[the-ineffable-dance]

In this post, I took a look at the beginning of the Final Fifteen and how Aziraphale's walk back to the bookshop is not the look of an excited or happy angel... instead, it looks like he's upset and desperately making a plan. Whelp, it's time for the next step of the heartbreak that is the Final Fifteen... Aziraphale's dance.

The first thing that happens when Aziraphale enters the bookshop is Nina and Maggie head out from their chat with Crowley. We follow them out, and the camera leaves them and joins the Metatron as he approaches Muriel on the patio reading a book. He checks in on her, and then straightens up, turning around. This gives him the perfect vantage point to stare straight into the bookshop window right at where our angel and demon are talking.

As you can see in the gif above, Aziraphale can see him from where he's standing. Before he even looks at Crowley, he sees the Metatron through the window.

Crowely starts his confession. He doesn't get very far... but really, he doesn't need to. These are two beings who know each other so well they can tell by tone of voice how the other is feeling. And Aziraphale knows just from the tone what Crowley is trying to say. There's a reason that it's taken them 6000 years to say how they feel... it's dangerous. It was never an unnecessary fear on their part, it was a very real and very present danger. And now, Crowley is about to say all the things that Aziraphale wants to hear, and the danger IS STARING AT THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW.

He hasn't even really looked at Crowley yet... heard the tone that Crowley was using, and looking out the window... Yep! Metatron, right there. Note his hands. Up and down. I didn't watch all of Extraordinary Attorney Woo for nothing! Those are "woah woah" hands. Like, stop talking, stop talking, STOP TALKING.

When he finally does look at Crowley, that's not a happy face. Not the face of someone that's finally hearing the confession they've been longing for for millennia. Michael Sheen has given Aziraphale the most endearing heart eyes throughout season 2...

But no heart eyes here? If everything went great with the Metatron and Aziraphale is completely on board with returning to Heaven with Crowley by his side, why in the world would he interrupt this moment? Letting Crowley profess his love would only strengthen Aziraphale's push to stay together. It is "Incredibly good news" after all. No, things did NOT go well with the Metatron, and they are in trouble. And so, Aziraphale is starting to panic. Crowley isn't paying attention to the "shush" hands, or his repeated looks out the window, so the only thing left is to interrupt. Aziraphale's bumbling rush to cut Crowley off feels a lot like "I can't let you continue so you don't incriminate yourself."

SO!! Azi jumps in with his version of his conversation with the Metatron. The "Good News" - "I... (mouth working furiously without sound)... the Metatron..." I don't think it's 'normal Aziraphale stutter' in the moment between those two words. There are plenty of times when Azi gets a little tongue tied when he's too excited (either due to lying OR trying to impress Crowley). But usually when he does that, he looks up and to the left. Instead, this time he makes eye contact with Crowley and does not look away. If you look closely, I'm nearly certain that he mouths the words "We Need Help."

What convinces me of this even more is that Crowley begins to watch him very intently. He's frustrated... certainly! But he doesn't fall into their normal banter. No quips, no growling at being cut off, no gentle arguing. He can absolutely tell from Aziraphale's tone that this is his "Something's Wrong Voice" and instantly listens.

Then the full dance begins. Aziraphale does begin his normal stutter with the wandering hands... he's trying to not say the wrong thing here and make their situation worse while still being convincing that he's going along with what the Metatron wanted.

Crowley tries to play along... until the offer to become an angel again comes up. I don't think that Aziraphale knows just how painful that concept is for Crowley. And with good reason, because I highly doubt that Crowley has been honest with him about it. Aziraphale loves Crowley for ALL that he is, but since he doesn't know how hurtful this will be, he just blunders right into the offer.

Crowley is so hurt? (Offended? Enraged?) by the concept of becoming an angel again, that he can't keep up the dance they've been putting on for the Metatron. In fact, he immediately fires off "And you told him just where he could stick it then." It's not actually a question for Aziraphale... He knows they're being listened to. He's directly telling the Metatron where he can stick it. "We're better than that" = "We're better than YOU (Metatron)"

And we watch the smile fall from Aziraphale's face. IMO, there is no question that Aziraphale suffers from CPTSD. People (and people shaped beings) with CPTSD can have a very hard time when there is a sudden, unexpected emotional response to something they've done or said. He thought they were on the same page, and suddenly Crowley isn't playing along, and he's angry. Furious. And Aziraphale falls back on old habits as he tries to regain his footing... thus, the unfortunate comment of "You're the bad guys." It's a terrible thing to say. And I'm not trying to excuse Azi for saying it... but it was a trauma response to an unexpected situation.

"Tell me you said no!" "If I'm in charge, I can make a difference."

The dance is over... these lines are not for the Metatron's benefit, or anyone else's. This is real. Crowley wants Aziraphale to say no to the Metatron, regardless of the situation. Aziraphale thinks he can only thwart the Metatron/ protect Crowley and the world by going to Heaven.

Ouch my heart! Onward to Crowley's confession (and possibly a post about the prologue to this heartache and the conversation between Azi and Metatrash)

[ourshadowsmeanomens]

THE MEANING OF THE END OF GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 (SPOILERS UNDER CUT)

I binge-watched this entire new season and immediately unleashed every thought I had about the ending of the show alongside MANY others who were experiencing a lot of feelings. After we all calmed down, we started talking and analyzing- and I think we found something way bigger than we saw on screen at the end of this season. And what this might mean for Aziraphale and Crowley going forward into (FINGERS CROSSED) a wonderful 3rd season.

The biggest complaint many of us in our chat had about the choice Aziraphale made at the very end- to ascend to Heaven, leave behind Crowley and the bookshop, to take Gabriel's place. Everyone is saying that it's out of character, there was so much build up all for Aziraphale to throw it away, etc. But the theory- a miracled brainwash. By Metatron, on Aziraphale. Metatron has proven to be a very dismissive and rude character, especially in regards to Aziraphale, since we met him in season 1. During the literal end of the world he still only spoke as God's voice and never appeared in person. Suddenly, Metatron comes down- IN PERSON- to talk with Aziraphale about a promotion. Before we know who he is exactly, we see him buying a coffee and giving it to Aziraphale- KEEP NOTE OF THIS. When Metatron first talks to Aziraphale, Azi says something to the effect that he has "made his position quite clear." The Metatron insists, pointing out the coffee and insists they talk.

HERE'S THE IMPORTANT PART: Metatron says "are you going to take it?" and RIGHT BEFORE Aziraphale says "shall I?" you hear the FAINTEST GLIMMER of the sound effect for miracles. I'll be honest I had to turn my sound up and lean in once someone pointed it out, but it's there and you HAVE to listen for it. They both go for a walk.

Crowley clearly believes Metatron is up to something, and watches them leave and walk but doesn't follow- this isn't addressed again. Then Crowley, Nina, and Maggie have their talk, and this is the part where Crowley is meant to confront his feelings. We switch back to Aziraphale with Metatron. Clearly Metatron and Aziraphale have talked about a deal and Metatron asks him to "think it over." Aziraphale has presumed to finish his coffee at this point, because he heads directly back to the bookshop to talk to Crowley. They fight, they kiss, they give each other up because Aziraphale decides to go to Heaven and leave everything behind. Like I said earlier, this is the part that enraged a lot of people- why would Aziraphale do this? This is so out of character. Why would he leave Crowley behind? Why would he leave his BOOKSHOP behind?

The current persistent theory is this:

Metatron has proven to be dismissive and untrustworthy since we met him. It is odd that he suddenly shows a change of heart for Aziraphale and wants to promote him. We, as the audience and fans, know Aziraphale's desire to live a simple, humanlike life with the person he cares about the most (Crowley) with his most prized possession (the bookshop).

The subtle miracle sound effect when Aziraphale took the coffee was the moment the miracle took place, affecting the coffee to brainwash (or at least to make more easily persuaded) Aziraphale so he'd say yes to the offer Metatron was giving him.

Aside from this, they editors/director/writers purposely wrote in and left the entire part about Metatron getting coffee for Aziraphale (as what? Some sort of peace offering?). The entire ending could have done without bringing so much attention to the coffee that Metatron gave to Aziraphale. It was unnecessary.

Unless it wasn't, and we are meant to find that out in season 3. The coffee is Chekhov's gun. In filmmaking, nothing is ever just a coincidence or an accident. They made a point to give us the miracle sound effect without showing any visible changes, made Aziraphale act wildly out of character, and framed it as though it is not, let's say, an institutional issue that is being covered up 👀👀

And let's not ignore that the episode 6 description specifically says "The Metatron brings an oatmilk latte, along with a final offer." Which would be an odd thing point out if the coffee was a mere prop.

All to say- I personally loved the season. I loved every minute, and I want to see what happens next. I think that people are going to be very angry with the ending, but that there's so much more we have yet to uncover and we shouldn't underestimate the wit of Neil Gaiman.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Chic Magazine interview with the Good Omens cast and crew by Keeley Ryan, August 2023 :)

'It was wonderful to get the Good Omens family back together'

There were plenty of miracles, mysteries and mayhem when Good Omens returned to the small screen for a second season.

The PrimeVideo series, which was originally based on Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's best-selling novel, is heading beyond the source material this season.

The six-part series highlights the ineffable friendship between Aziraphale, a fussy angel and rare-book dealer, and the fast-living demon Crowley.

And while the duo put a stop to the apocalypse last time, there are the sparks of a new mystery that will take viewers from before The Beginning, to biblical times to grave robbing in Victorian Edinburgh; the Blitz of 1940s England to the modern day.

The cast includes David Tennant and Michael Sheen as Crowley and Aziraphale, Jon Hamm, Maggie Service, Nina Sosanya, Miranda Richardson, Shelley Conn, and Derek Jacobi also star in the series.

And Michael Sheen told how the Good Omens "world has grown" with season two - and opened up about his first day back at Aziraphale's bookshop.

In an interview conducted before the SAG strike, he said, "It was lovely to be back in the bookshop after having seen it burnt down the ground.

"Clearly I had managed to save a few books! Actually, it was extraordinary - your brain does a double take - my desk, the cash machine, the record player - everything is all so familiar even though it is a totally different location.

But we have expanded - there is much more of the world of Soho here including Aziraphale's favourite the magic shop and my favourite the pub - our world has grown."

The actor also praised Neil Gaiman's writing, noting how there's "something about the way Neil sees the mundane that is extraordinary."

He said, "His writing has such a breadth of reference and yet is so accessible and entertaining even when taking on big epic or philosophical issues.

There's something about the way Neil sees the mundane that is extraordinary. When things filter through his imagination they emerge in an entirely unique way and yet it feels like it's always been there.

Add in the sprinkling of the imagination of Terry Pratchett and cocktail has been created - utterly familiar."

Producer Sarah-Kate Fenelon told Chic how the second season of Good Omens is "building on the universe" - and how they had been "sowing the seeds of a second season without anybody knowing" last season. "

She said, "I work with Neil Gaiman and know in part that Gabriel, who is played by Jon Hamm, his character is not in the book of Good Omens - but it was included in the first season. We were sowing the seed of a second season without anybody knowing.

"That character was written by Neil and Terry as a potential second book. They never got to write it, but now we're able to tell Gabriel's story. It's kind of a lovely evolution, where we're just expanding the universe.

"A lot of locations on the set are locations from season one. We've also been able to explore new shops, like we've got the record shop and we've got The Dirty Donkey pub, which we go into - it was in season one, but we never got to go into it.

"Season two is just building on the universe."

The Wicklow native added that it was "wonderful to get the Good Omens family back together" for a second season.

She said, "We were lucky that a lot of our crew and creative talent were able to come back for a second season. But also, we had our cast return. Miranda Richardson plays a totally different character this season and we have a new Beelzebub.

"And then obviously, we've got Maggie and Nina playing themselves, Maggie and Nina, as written by Neil. It was wonderful to get the Good Omens family back together again."

Noel Corbally, who works as an associate producer on the series, recalled how they marked a special anniversary of the first season's release while prepping for season two.

The Irishman said, "We went for dinner that night to relive the celebration, happy to be back again.

"Even now, it's been more than a year since we wrapped and to be able to come back into the studio that's just been frozen in time with everything wrapped up — we had a week to turn it back to life, have it be a live street again.

"It's been a week. But it's been amazing. We had our original lighting team come back, our original art department — and they've just done a fantastic job."

And while there are plenty of easter eggs for fans to spot throughout the six episodes, the pair shared their favourites.

Noel shared, "I think that my favourite easter egg is actually in the record shop. It's a song that we play in the background. It's so subtle, but it's from the musical Happy As A Sandbag.

"Maggie's character Maggie runs the record shop, which was owned by her grandfather in the story. But the musical, Happy As A Sandbag, Maggie Service the actress - her mother and father met on the musical and fell in love. Having that was an homage to them for bringing us Maggie."

Sarah-Kate said, "I quite like the easter eggs in the title sequence. If you look really closely, there is a Gabriel or Jim in every shot, which people tend not to notice. It's like Where's Wally?"

Rob Wilkins, who manages Terry Pratchett's estate and serves as narrative EP, told how he was "elated" for the second season to be out — and about moving beyond the book's source material.

He explained, "There were lots of nerves, because there is no source material. There's no book. I went through the whole of season one with the mantra that we've got a beginning, a middle and an end.

"And at the end of season one, which was the only season at the time, I felt very relaxed - we're all grounded through Terry and Neil's words, and that's fine. We know where we're going, we've got the novel to refer to.

"And so with season two, of course there's going to be nerves — there's no source material.

"But Neil is 50% of the creative team that brought you Good Omens, so in him we trust. And we genuinely do, from the bottom of my heart - of course we do.

"There's excitement about what Neil is going to bring from the page and from the page to the screen, but trepidation as well — I'm a fan as much as anybody else, I want to know where the stories are going."

Rob added that some of his own favourite easter eggs within the second season include a nod to Terry in The Dirty Donkey pub - as well as a special sight in the bookshop.

He said, "I love the fact that in the bookshop, Teny's hat and scarf are just hanging there. Terry, as a huge patron of bookshops around the world, he just left his hat and scarf in there and moved on one day and left them behind.

"That's a lovely one for me, as well - it means more to me, I think, than anything else."

Rob opened up about the success of the first season - and why it was something that he didn't necessarily expect.

He continued, "There's the Terry Pratchett fandom, there's the Neil Gaiman fandom and push them together and there's a big crossover. But what we created with season one, we created Good Omens fandom from the show.

"People came to Neil's work and Terry's work through the show. It created something entirely individual of its own making, and that freaked me out because I didn't see that one coming.

"I didn't see that as a thing. I thought the fans would be rooted in Terry or Neil. I didn't realise that the ineffable husbands in all of that - I love David and Michael, but I didn't realise the love people would have for them as our demon and our angel.

"I shouldn't be surprised. It's just my admiration for them as actors and for what they do, and for people getting it I think that that's the thing that's meant a lot to me, that people have understood what we tried to do."

Costume designer Kate Carin told how having the opportunity to join Good Omens' second season was a "gift" - and opened up about why it was impossible to pick a favourite scene.

She explained, "When you see the whole show - you think, when you're watching episode one, you're like, 'oh my god, that's the best'. But then you watch something in episode two and it's like, 'that's awesome!'

"I would say that I'm a disciple of the show now. I didn't know the book when I was approached about the job. I'd obviously heard of it, and I'd seen season one — as a punter, I watched it.

"To get the opportunity to come and work on season two, it's a gift for a costume designer.

"You do fantasy, you do period, you do contemporary and all of the wavy lines in- between - you're given a lot of rope to play with."

The character of Shax, played by Miranda Richardson, was a "really fun character to design for" - as Kate told how plenty of ideas jumped to mind after reading the description.

She said, "When Neil writes on the page that you have a 50s inspired female demon, that gives you a lot of scope to play with. "

And when I started drawing her, I actually had to stop myself because I kept coming up with ideas."

And with the series jampacked with magical moments and settings, set decorator Bronwyn Franklin told how there was one particular shop that has a "certain magic'!

She said, "I actually think the magic shop is my favourite shop. The bookshop used to be, but now that l've done it twice - it's still beautiful. It is Aziraphale's home. It feels more magical because Aziraphale lives there, and there's the whole angelic side.

"But this one, it really has a certain magic. From a set decorator's point of view, it's a joy. Will Godstone, he gets to sit there and he's got his little cash register and if he's got no customers, he can sit there and have a little cup of tea.

"You just have to feel that person, live that person and think that it's yours. I always come into a space like this and think, 'how would I like to be?' Because if it makes me happy, it'll make the cast member happy, it'll make the viewers happy."

Michael Ralph, who is the series' production designer, told how while it's impossible to pick a favourite set, the bookshop is "one that will resonate most'.'

Aziraphale's bookshop contains more than 7,000 real books and Michael noted that it was important for the setting to feel real, not just for the audiences at home but for the cast and crew.

He said, "There's not a fake book in here. Couldn't do that. In a way, if you look at any bookshelf - I spent almost a day just moving books around, to make the bookshelves look like they're real. They could be flat dressed, and then they're not real. But this is real, when they're just moved around a little bit; or people have pulled them out and put them in incorrectly.. .that's what's real about a bookshop."