#newton x anathema

[ineffable-celestials]

"And for once in his life, Newton had found the only thing, the only one who was far too delicate to break. His hands were finally good for more than tearing things apart. He'd always hated his hands, the failure and bad luck that they'd automatically bring. But may any God be damned, those hands were finally gentle, those hands were finally blessed, for they allowed him to hold Anathema to himself. Those hands brought her joy, those hands brought her comfort, those hands brought her love. And for once in his life, he finally believed that his hands weren't so bad after all."

[bunshr00m]

Do you have any good omens head cannons?

when "the them" get older they still bring up that one time adam went all evil when they're annoyed w him

anathema thought she didn't wanna date until she met newt and realized her type was just very pathetic boys and she hadn't met a pathetic enough boy

for some reason i think muriel would get asked out a lot on earth but at first they wouldn't realize they're dates so they're just happily cruising along being an absolute player. after realizing they'd be like "so if i just keep making lip contact with my dates they'll purchase more human sustenance for me? what an interesting trading system!"

i also headcanon that muriel is a lesbian though because i sense my own

gabriel finds flies on him a lot. in pockets, in hair, in his teeth. beezlebub just wants him to have lil friends

nina isn't very good at expressing affection so she'd do it really awkwardly. she'd hand someone a trinket, say "its yours" and then leave without explaining anything.

maggie hates nina's ex more than anyone. if she ever met them she'd give them a proper little smack. also i can see her as the "with all due respect, which is none..." meme

this one is basically canon but crowley makes fun of aziraphale for saying such british things despite also being british. "just popping off to the loo :)" "jUsT pOpPiNg OfF tO tHe LoOoOo"

finally i think crowley eats burnt ass toast bc he's just weird like that.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Good Omens

Sample Size: 56,282 stories

Source: AO3

[qtj]

Well it’s been a hot minute!

As soon as saw this meme, I instantly thought of Newt and Anathema lol!

[goodomens-girlie]

I still can’t believe they were supposed to be 19

[off-traveling-in-the-stars]

"reunion" this "apology dance" that, i wanna see newt and anathema again in s3. malewife x girlboss. idc if it's in one scene or a passsing mention i just love them.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 13!!!

Wow, you're probably thinking - That was fast, Puffin!! Yes. I saw the votes come in and was stuck with sudden inspiration and HAD to get this done and up before bed. Huzzah for manic creative energy!!

You're either going to love it or be very angry with me. Not sure which (maybe a bit of both) - but here we go!

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

Newt was worried.

Now, this wasn’t uncommon so it wasn’t normally a problem. This time, however, he was very certain he had a very good reason to be worried – and it was, in fact, a problem.

He couldn’t find Muriel.

It is here, dear Reader, where I need to take a moment to remind you of a few things. First of all, we all learned, not so long ago, that not everyone can manage to stay in a building and keep their sanity. Not even in a place like Aziraphale’s bookshop, not everyone. Second, it is very possible to reason things in a way that makes them seem harmless. Third, everyone makes mistakes. Newt is just learning that some mistakes cost more than others.

In his defense, things had seemed safe enough at the time. Newt and Anathema had been keeping in touch, and she’d told him about the Metatron tailing them at Heathrow. He had therefore come to the conclusion that the Metatron was keeping tabs on Anathema’s group. It made sense, what reason did Metatron have to watch the bookshop when his biggest threat was traipsing around America openly looking to disrupt his plans, and with no wards to keep them safe. Besides, it was just the cinema. It wasn’t even very far away. The plan had been a short trip to see a Disney film, then straight back with no distractions. It would have been a couple of hours at most. What could go wrong? Right?

Everything, of course. Everything could go wrong.

It was fine at first. The film had started, and the film was fine. Muriel was enjoying themselves. Then Newt had got up to use the toilet, whispered to Muriel that he would be right back, and left. When he came back, he couldn’t find them again. He looked. He found their seats. Then he thought perhaps they just needed to use the toilet too, so he sat back down and waited. After a minute he remembered that angels don’t need the loo, and thought that maybe Muriel had wanted more snacks. The film finished, and still Muriel hadn’t come back. Newt looked through the entire cinema. He asked the employees if they’d seen his friend, but none of them had. They helped him look in other screens, the lobby, all the toilets, everywhere. Muriel was gone. In a move of desperation, Newt returned to the shop, hoping beyond hope that Muriel had simply gone home without telling him, but no. The windows were dark, the shop was still locked and empty (although the doors were kind enough to unlock themselves for him).

Now he sat on the floor of the kitchen, breathing heavily into a cup of tea that was doing a very poor job of calming his nerves. He had to do something. He took a final deep breath before pushing himself off the floor and into one of the chairs at the table. Alright, panic time was over, now he needed to think. The only thing he was very certain of was that something had gone very very wrong. While he wasn’t entirely certain where Muriel was, by now he felt he could make a reasonable guess that they were back in Heaven. It was possible they had left of their own accord, something going so terribly wrong that they had needed to leave immediately without time to leave a message. It was also possible that nothing sinister was taking place. But the fear that had put him on the floor a moment ago was that Muriel had been taken by the Metatron back to Heaven against their will. And his biggest problem right now was that he had no idea which it was.

So he considered his options. If he messaged Anathema, he ran the risk of separating them. Their mission was important, and they had discussed at length before leaving why splitting up the group would be a bad idea. If he messaged them, they might drop everything and come back to the shop to help find Muriel, and end up playing right into the Metatron’s hands. At the same time, he wasn’t sure what he could do without them. It wasn’t as though Muriel had a phone that he could call.

Although...weren’t angels and demons basically the same? Like, they started from the same place right? And he knew by now that people could summon demons. Maybe he could just...summon Muriel back? He got up to go back into the front room of the shop – he was fairly sure he’d left his phone on the desk when he came in – and his foot caught on the area rug, making him trip and fall face first into the hardwood.

He groaned as he pulled himself up. Now wasn’t the time for this. He looked back to find out what he’d tripped over, and instead saw that the rug had pulled up a bit to reveal white lines on the floor underneath it. Huh. Now that was something. He got to his feet and pulled away the rest of the rug, revealing the entire drawing. By this point in his relationship with Anathema, he recognized a summoning circle when he saw it, and clasped a hand to his mouth in equal amounts of surprise and relief. Thank goodness! He could use this to summon Muriel! And it would bring them straight back to safety! Then he swore to Agnes Nutter he wouldn’t ever suggest they set foot outside of the bookshop again until this whole Second Coming business was well over.

Alright, candles. He knew he needed candles.

He searched the entire shop, and the only candles he could find were battery operated. Unorthodox, surely, but after considering for a moment, he decided that if Aziraphale had these candles around, then they must be good enough to do the job. He began placing them around the circle, similar to the way he’d seen Anathema do on the solstice. Seven places, seven candles. Made sense. If Newt recalled correctly, Heaven liked sevens for some reason. He turned on the last candle, placed it on the designated spot, and stepped away. Anathema had told him once that things could go wrong if someone stepped into a summoning circle, so he made sure to watch his feet and stand well outside of it.

Great. That was done. Um...now what? He wasn’t a witch. Or wizard. Or warlock? Or whatever a male witch was called. Alright, time to think again. He was trying to contact Heaven so...well, people usually did that by praying, didn’t they? Carefully, he brought his hands together and raised his eyes towards the ceiling of the shop. He felt downright silly, but no worse than he had in church while growing up he supposed. Besides, literal angels and demons were his life now apparently. And Muriel was depending on him.

“Um,” he said, honestly unsure of how to begin, “Hello, my name is Newt. Is...um...is anyone there?”

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but a pillar of white light appearing between the candles hadn’t been it. His hands separated on instinct and he stumbled backwards in surprise, nearly topping a pile of books as he did. Wow, alright, so that worked. Huh. Strange feeling actually – things didn’t normally work quite so well or so quickly for him.

Anyway, focus up!

“Uh, right,” he continued, bringing his hands back together – it only felt proper now that he knew someone was actually there and listening. “I, er, well you see I’m looking for an angel called Muriel is...um, are they there?” Silence. Newt cleared his throat and tried again, firming his tone to feign confidence. “I summon the angel Muriel!”

This time the light blinked. A tone sounded. A tone he recognized actually….was it….no it wasn’t...dial-up was it??

But that’s what it was. The dial-up tone from Newt’s childhood internet experiences come back to haunt him. After a moment of blinking and beeping, a voice finally responded. Calm, yes, angelic, also yes, and oddly generic. Definitely not Muriel.

“The angel you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try your prayer again later.”

The light disappeared, leaving the room dark and the circle dull once again.

Well bugger.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[scrtomens]

HEHE

[b3anieperson]

I finished Good Omens.

Holy fuck.

They scared the shit out of me at the end.

I seriously thought Crowley turned angel or something.

-and I thought Aziraphale was about to fall.

AND THESE FUCKERS TRICKED ME.

[shakirachyanne]

Song: The bottom 2 - Glorb

Show: Good Omens

[willowfernn]

hehe, more for you <3

Part One

[snarky-synesthete]

Newt & Anathema as Mirrors of Crowley & Aziraphale

So. I was trying to finish up a little fic for a server gift exchange, and Anathema and Newt were in it. It's the first time I've written them - I was going to have a little plot point about Newt taking Anathema's last name when they get married...because Device is cooler than Pulsifer, obviously, and also because Ana wasn't about to take the name of the Witchfinder who killed Agnes.

Fuck him, yes. Marry him, sure. Take that name? Insupportable. Luckily, Newt is just delighted to be included, so he's fine with being Mr. Device.

But that got me thinking about his name: Pulsifer. I thought, "Does that name actually mean anything?”

So I broke out my very rusty Latin skills. We can start with the English word "pulse," obviously, but it has a Latin root: pulsus, an adjective that means "beating." But the suffix "-ifer" means "bearer of" or "carrier of.”

"Bearer of the heartbeat."

So. If we look at Anathema and Newt as mirrors of Aziraphale and Crowley...I mean. They were all there at the big battle at the end of the world. Ana and Newt were ready to go head-to-head with Satan along with our two Ineffables, even though they didn't actually know each other. The novel of Good Omens has these "Odd Couples" at every turn. Funhouse mirrors of each other. Let's think about it though, with the names "Pulsifer" and "Device."

Device: "the crucial piece of clockwork without which the whole complicated mess falls apart"

versus

Pulsifer: "the one who carries the very heartbeat of it all"

Maybe the only thing keeping Heaven from crumbling into chaos is Aziraphale, complicated little clockwork device that he is. That's also sort of how Aziraphale sees things! "Point A to Point C must and shall include Point B, and that's that on that!" There's something about the idea of expectations, of moving in a specified pattern, of fulfilling one's appointed purpose.

And then, the "bearer of the heartbeat" is Crowley. Heartbeats are NOT predictable things! They skitter and flutter and slow down and even - sometimes - stop. But still, predictable or not, nothing can go on without one. Something about Crowley and the heartbeat of the Universe, the heartbeat of humanity. Crowley being that pulse, that indicator of continued life.

But our Ineffables are complicated - as complicated as humanity is, as the Universe is! We can invert it:

The "device" is Crowley - he's the Starmaker, he set all those rules from his little red book into motion. Let him be the fixed point in time and space holding everything together with the power of his imagination. Sure! I'll buy that!!!

Then the "heart-bearer" can be Aziraphale: unpredictable! Ready to stampede in the entirely wrong direction! So full of love that it alters existence!

I don't have a conclusion! I just like thinking thoughts!

[cryptic-queer-cryptid]

the history book on the shelf… is always repeating itselffff

[bird-slayer-brainrot]

Pre-marital Shenanigans - Good Omens Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer ft. our ineffable idiots at a silly little engagment party gone alcoholic

Anathema had never even dreamed of getting married. It never really bothered her, as she had always understood that the course of her life was already set. It was quite literally planned in a book that had finally ended.

But the world hadn’t, like it was supposed to, and Newt, who she had known all her life but had only now known, had given her the courage to decide for herself what her life would be, well, everything was different.

The world was literally new.

So when Newton Pulsifer, her nerdy, non-witchfinder, world-saving boyfriend proposed one afternoon in their shared garden in Jasmine Cottage, Tadfield, Oxfordshire, England – far from the life she had always known – Anathema, for the first time in her life, felt alive.

Crowley parked the Bentley outside Jasmine Cottage and climbed out. He was leaning over the top of the car, head rested in his hands, as he waited for Aziraphale to get out. To his surprise, Aziraphale emerged from the Bentley with his arm full of wrapped gifts that Crowley hadn’t even seen him pack. Crowley frowned at the angel without menace, and Aziraphale returned the look fondly.

Anathema answered the door immediately. She had been waiting for the past twenty minutes by the door. Crowley drove fast, but he was always late.

Newt was busy in the kitchen preparing cocktails as Anathema greeted their guests. Aziraphale beamed at is friend, unable to hug her with his arms full.

“Anathema, dear.” He said fondly. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

Crowley, not a speaker, nodded silently at Aziraphale, who nodded in return. This was good enough for the both of them. Crowley followed Aziraphale into the lounge. Anathema shut the door to the cottage behind them.

“Cards?” Crowley questioned. They were in the living room. Newt hadn’t finished the drinks yet. Anathema was shuffling the deck.

“Isn’t this your engagement party?” Crowley grumbled. Anathema shot him a look and he shot up.

“How lovely.” Aziraphale exclaimed. “I’m very good at cards.”

“No you’re not.” Crowley responded almost immediately. Aziraphale made a face at the demon, who did not back down.

“There is cocktails.” Newt announced when he entered. He was balancing a tray of cocktails precariously. Anathema, sensing danger, immediately stood up to help him. Newt greeted Aziraphale and Crowley and sat down in an armchair beside Anathema. The cards were shuffled, and Anathema began to deal.

An hour in, and Newt was tipsy.

Aziraphale had somehow managed to win several rounds, and Anathema had accused him of foul play despite the fact that he, on numerous occasions, insisted he would do no such thing.

“How did you get another ace?” Anathema shouted. Aziraphale just giggled. Crowley was staring at Aziraphale murderously. Crowley was losing, followed in third by Newt. When they were both out, Newt left to fetch another round of cocktails.  

When he returned, it was to find a distraught Anathema had lost another round. Aziraphale was laughing victoriously. Newt smiled at his fiancée, and consoled her.

He had been worried about this. Anathema knew Newt was a worrier, it was his nature. He wanted the engagement party to go smoothly, for Anathema’s sake. They’d talked about it extensively. Eventually, they decided a quiet night in with some friends was exactly what they both wanted.

Anathema didn’t have many close friends in Tadfield, and Newt’s mother was coming down from London down the next day to formally meet Anathema and help with the wedding planning. The Them had already popped by to offer their congratulations. Pepper had announced that she wanted to be the maid of honour. Anathema immediately agreed.

The topic of Aziraphale and Crowley had come up one morning as Newt prepared breakfast. He suggested it offhandedly, and, after considering it, Anathema suggested they invite the pair for some drinks soon. It was an excuse, at best, to check in on the state of the world after Doomsday. Newt knew this, because he always knew.

Anathema had confided in Newt that sometimes she had the sense that she was being watched, like when she was younger, but with less potency. It had been nearly a year since the world had almost ended, and the final instalment of Agnes Nutter’s prophecies had been burnt to ash. She hated this feeling. It was a reminder of what had happened, and how close it had all come to ending. It made her feel powerless.

Newt was, for the most part, an excellent comfort in this. He had been a pawn in this celestial game as long as she had, though he had not found out till much later. When she felt like this, Newt was there. She loved him.

The cards were abandoned and Newt was now fully gone. It seemed that, in an effort to steady his nerves, he had drunk way more than the others. This, combined with his, quite frankly, shit alcohol tolerance, and he was trying to dance with Anathema.

Anathema managed to escape from two clumsy waltzes (somewhere, Billie Holiday was screaming) with her two feet barely intact. She sat beside Aziraphale, who was nursing a glass of wine Anathema didn’t remember any of them pouring. Newt was smiling at Anathema, and she tentatively smiled back.

“So, Crowley.” Newt had recovered from the abandonment by Anathema by deciding to bother the demon, who also had a glass of wine. Crowley watched him as he plopped himself beside him.

“Anathema tells me you and Aziraphale are like.” he leaned forward conspiratorially at the demon.

 paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. “Magic.” He managed to both over-pronounce the final consonant while whispering, seemingly for dramatic effect. Crowley tilted his head at the human, and raised his eyebrows.

Anathema was still talking to Aziraphale. She was laughing at something the angel had said.

“Can you please.” He was almost pleading. Anathema and Aziraphale had now looked over to them. Aziraphale was beaming, and Anathema was doing a very good impression of a tomato.

“Magic me to be deserving of this beautiful, beautiful lady.”

Aziraphale laughed, and Anathema managed to look even more embarrassed.

“Oh, shut up Newt.” Anathema laughed.

They were saying their goodbyes. Anathema had insisted that they had enough space to accommodate their friends, but Crowley said that they would be alright.

When the door shut behind them, Newt turned to look at Anathema with blind adoration.

“Seriously though.” Newt was solemn now. “How is it possible for one single person to be so wonderful. I love you so much Anathema.”

“Calm down Newt.” Anathema said, laughing. Newt then proceeded to wrap his arms around the witch in an effort, it seemed, to become attached to her permanently.

“Bedtime, I think.” Anathema said into his shoulder. “I love you, Newt.”

[local-apollo-kid]

Was reading back through the copy of Good Omens I annotated and some of this shit I wrote was UNHINGED

THIS IS FROM ABOUT 15 PAGES ONLY

[dingdangit]

ok poll time bc i want to see if my opinion is actually controversial or not