#so if no one else got you just know that Michael Sheen and I got you Anon

[ingravinoveritas]

How do you find the courage to post your fanfics? I've written something, but I'm TERRIFIED of someone reading it, even though I WANT people to read it 😩

Hi, Anon! Aww, I appreciate you asking me this so much. Well, I know the feeling you are describing very well, as I've been writing fanfic for the better part of the last 25 years, and that is a feeling that never fully goes away.

When I first started writing fic, I was in a very different place mentally than where I am now. What I mean by that is that I'd experienced tremendous bullying all through school because of being on the autism spectrum, and at the same time, writing was the one thing that I discovered I was good at. So while I was absolutely desperate for people to read my writing, I was also completely terrified of criticism of any stripe, because in my mind, that somehow meant I'd done something "wrong" and it felt like the fast track to destroying my already nearly nonexistent self-esteem.

As a child, writing was my escape from the world, and the only place I felt safe and like I could express myself, and I also sought so much validation from it. As an adult, it's still an escape and a place to express myself, but I no longer crave that same validation. Do I want to share my writing with people in the hope that they get as much joy out of reading it as I do writing it? Absolutely. Do I view a negative review or criticism as the worst possible thing in the entire world? Not at all. But that was a choice I had to make, and it happened as I gradually developed confidence in myself, which took a great deal of time.

What it really comes down to is that posting your fics and sharing your writing carries the potential for both great risks, and great rewards. One thing you must always keep in mind is that not everyone is going to like what you write, but that does not make you a bad writer. For me, the appreciation and gratitude of the people who do like my fics matters far more than the people who don't like them--I actually even recently got a lovely comment on The Boxer Rebellion from one of my favorite MS/DT RPF authors, and it absolutely made my entire day. But that never would have happened if I hadn't posted my fic in the first place.

The other thing to keep in mind is that every fic has an audience. (The absolutely cursed-beyond-comprehension cream cheese fic had an audience, for crying out loud.) So there will be an audience for what you write, Anon, and in fact that audience is probably out there right now just waiting to read your fics. Ultimately, though, the most important person to write for is you. Write because you have a voice and stories you want to share. Write because something inspired you and brought that creative spark to life. Write because there is nothing sadder in this world than walking around with an untold story inside you. And if you do decide to share your fics, who knows who you might inspire in turn, and the spark you could light inside others.

I hope this helps to answer your question. Please feel free to write back in if/when you decide to share your fics, Anon. Sending so much love and the very best of luck to you! xx

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Very funny Staged-like opening of BAFTAs 2024 with David and Michael! :D ❤

David: Can you hear me? Michael, how is it going.

Michael: Yeah, I don't have time for pleasantries, David. Some of us are big in America. In fact, I have a zoom with LA in ten minutes.

David: It's 04:00 a.m. in LA.

Michael: Well, that was the only time I could fit them in, so they're getting up early. Anyway, look, I just wanted to confirm, I'm going to drop the new dog off on Sunday morning. We've called him Bark Ruffalo. It's cute isn’t it?

David: That is actually quite good. But listen, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm afraid I can’t dog sit on Sunday.

Georgia: Oh, hi, Michael.

Michael: Yeah, hi, Georgia. Look, I don't want any of your excuses, David, you promised. I can't leave him with a neighbour because he peed in her kitchen.

Georgia: Right. Whereas we are desperate for him to come and pee in our kitchen.

David: I know that I did promise to dog sit on Sunday but since I promised, something else has come up and I-

Michael: Well, that sounds like a you problem.

David: Hi, Stan how are things?

Stanley Tucci: Hi, David. How are you?

David: Okay, listen, I need a favour. Michael Sheen has asked me to look after his dog on Sunday, but I agreed to host the BAFTA Film Awards on the same day. I was wondering if you could look after his dog for me?

Stanley Tucci: I would love to do that for you, David.

David: Oh, Stan, you're a lifesaver. Thank you so much.

Stanley Tucci: Is there anything else I can do for you?

David: No, looking after the dog is... I mean, that's obviously amazing.

Stanley Tucci: I could wash your car or something or the windows in your home.

David: You're not really gonna look after the dog, are you?

Stanley Tucci: And the BAFTA for Catching On Very Quickly goes to...

David: Himesh! Oh, Himesh, I think your computer is frozen. Oh, no it’s not frozen because I just saw someone.

Himesh Patel: Look, I know you're just calling because you want something from me.

David: Yeah. What are you doing on Sunday? Oh for crying out loud. Tom Hiddleston!

Tom Hiddleston: Hey, David. What's the pitch?

David: Pitch is dog sitting for Michael Sheen.

Tom Hiddleston: Wow. Okay. Yeah. Interesting. I'm guessing that we're going for, like, funny.

David: Could be funny, it’s a cute dog.

Tom Hiddleston: Yeah, I suppose the dog sitter initially could present as benign, and then he and the dog get up to all kinds of hijinx and ultimately disrupt stuffy old Michael Sheen's boring life. But for the better.

David: Listen did your agent tell you that I wanted to talk to you about a film?

Tom Hiddleston: Well yeah, obviously, unless you're actually, you know, calling me to ask me to dogsit for Michael Sheen.

David: No. Oh. Dame Judi. Long time no see.

Judi Dench: I thought you were going to be that beautiful Michael Sheen. What do you want?

David: Well, I wonder if you'd be up for a bit of dog sitting. I promised to look after Bark Ruffalo for Michael on Sunday, but I'm double booked.

Judi Dench: David. Bark Ruffalo. He pees everywhere. And anyway, I shall be watching a BAFTA Film Awards with a big glass of champagne. What's with the kilt?

David: Wait and see.

Judi Dench: Ooh.

David: Hi, David Tennant signing in. There's a courier here with something for production.

announcement: David Tennant to stage. David Tennant to stage.

David: Hi. Hello. Hi, everyone. Hi. Hi. Hi there.Sorry. I've got-Are you good with dogs? Yeah, and not on your dress. I'm sorry. Thank you. Hi. Hi. Sorry. Hello. Hello. Hi. This is fine. This is fine. This is. Michael? Michael?! What? What is this?

Michael: What are you doing there?

David: I'm hosting the show.

Michael: What?!

David: This is why you wanted me to dog sit, so you could sit there?

Michael: Yeah.

David: You going to have to take the dog.

Michael: What? What if I have to go up on the stage to be given an award? Yeah. All right. Give me.

David: Yeah. Come on. Get that one. You take that. And this weird thing.

Michael: Was this Scottish man mean to you? All right, come on to me. Oh, darling, hello, hello.

David: Never work with animals or Michael Sheen. Not a great start. Not a great start. Don't worry, though, tonight is going to go smoother than Ken's chest. For one thing, he's not a dog anyway. He is actually being played by Andy Serkis. Look at that. What a performance. Andy.

[canarybell]

A little touch of Miles in the night

Do you think about this Michael Sheen post as often as I do?

Cause...you can see what he meant here, right? Comparing Aziraphale (especially this Aziraphale, with this boa) to Miles Maitland. Comparing two Sheens with twenty years between them.

And it's not just a boa. They are so...them. Gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Dramatic. Flamboyant. You can see this similarity in their energy in these particular moments.

And yet...is it all? Or there is something else?

Spoilers for "Bright Young Things" under the cut. tw:homophobia, just in case.

You remember what happened to Miles in the end of his storyline? To sweet, frivolous, charming Miles?

The police got Miles' letters to his ex-lover. It was 1930s, and one piece of paper with love confessions inside could lead you to prison. So he had to leave for France to avoid arrest, without even really packing his things. And it's happened just before WW2, so his further fate in soon-to-be occupied France was...unclear, let's say that.

And you know what's happening to our angel here?

He's so silly and happy. He's spending the night with a demon he just recently realized to be madly in love with. Crowley trusts him - as he showed in another round of their peculiar roleplay. He was able to be a terrible magician for one evening. This is a perfect evening, right? He's happy and is ready to share this happiness with the whole world.

There is knock in the door. In this second Aziraphale is beaming and shouts "Enter!".

The next second the door will be opened. Hell is gonna come into the dressing room. Hell that has evidence of an impossible, criminal connection. Hell, ready to trample not only over this second joy, not just this evening - but all past and possible future evenings too. Ready to destroy all of Crowley, and with him, all of Aziraphale.

All thanks to one piece of paper.

……. It was good that Aziraphale knew that trick with the photograph, wasn't it? After all, he and Crowley have nowhere to run to within the confines of Earth - the jurisdiction of Heaven and Hell is somewhat wider than that of an English court.

[armageddidnt]

Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2

*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits

Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀

Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are

So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon

Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)

Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories

I’m cAckling

So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??

Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk

More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰

Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀

This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show

We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides

Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening

POP goes the Ziraphale

Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT

Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.

Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???

They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh

Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?

So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀

There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…

I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER

Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.

I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now

We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane

Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil!

I don't want to sound like a killjoy, but I'm concerned about David Tennant's family being involved in the second season of Good Omens (or Michael Sheen's partner Anna Lundberg in a future season three). I absolutely have nothing against them, I loved Staged just like everyone else, but this is exactly the matter for me: casting them in the series would automatically make me think about Staged or something else while I'm watching GO, and it would distract me from the plot and the magic of it. It would feel somehow like a family reunion, no matter how talented they are as actors (not to mention that there would be nepotism accusations, above all against David. I hope this won't affect the popularity rating, since season three is still hypothetical). I'm not the only one who thinks this might be an issue, from what I read on blogs here on Tumblr (and on the Internet in general) but I feel like there's a sort of tension, like people are scared to say it out loud, because some fans get the wrong idea and accuse them of hating Georgia or Anna or Ty (and that's why I'm asking this anonymously, I don't want to start a fight). I hope you get what I'm saying, it only felt fair to me to let you know whatever concerns some fans might have, and maybe even give you a perspective you weren't considering? Of course you have the last word on this, and if you think this is not a big deal, I trust your judgement.

I wish you a fantastic day! (And sorry for my English, I'm not native, I tried my best!)

Yeah. So, I find that a little creepy, not very creepy, but definitely a bit.

I thought we were lucky to get Peter Davison in Good Omens 2. (He didn't audition. We offered him the part, as I've been a fan of his since 1978, and All Creatures Great and Small. He crushes it, and is heartbreaking, funny, and still somehow the moral compass of the episode he's in.) Ty Tennant auditioned, along with a number of other actors, and got the part because he did it best. (I didn't know who his family was when we cast him. I just liked the audition tape.)

If you're hunting down family connections, David's mother-in-law, Ty's grandmother, Sandra Dickinson, is in the Audible Sandman, too, as one of the Three Witches/Fates/Eumenides etc. And she was cast in it two years before David Tennant (although probably around the same time Michael Sheen was asked to be Lucifer). (I've been a fan of Sandra's since she was Trillian in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in 1981.)

Anyway, I'm sorry you're worried about Peter and Ty's performances, although I promise you have nothing to worry about, and I'm sorry that you worry that our possibly casting Georgia and Anna in a hypothetical and not-yet actually a real thing Season 3 might make people think of Staged and make them not able to enjoy Good Omens any longer. (Had I known people were this easily shaken I wouldn't have appeared in Staged either, in case my name at the front of Good Omens shattered the fragile illusion and revealed to people that the David Tennant and Michael Sheen who play Crowley and Aziraphale are actors.)

Starting in 2017 I was the recipient of mind-mangling quantities of Tumblr abuse for casting David Tennant and Michael Sheen as Aziraphale and Crowley, which was, many people made very clear to me, the worst casting in the whole entire utter history of casting, and something that Good Omens would never recover from, because for a start neither of them looked like the versions in people's heads, and I'd also miscast them badly because everyone knew that if you had to cast Sheen and Tennant, Michael had to play Crowley and David had to put on some weight and play Aziraphale. (It wasn't until May 2019 that people stopped grumbling.) So people worrying I'm going to cast Anna and Georgia in a season that hasn't even been commissioned in parts that haven't been written just makes me smile.

I hope this helps.

[indigovigilance]

Anthony, Anthony, Anthony

What does your Anthony mean, exactly?

I feel like your Anthony and my Anthony are different Anthonies…

In 1941 we learn that Crowley has named himself Anthony J. Crowley (Aziraphale doesn’t pronounce the H but closed captions write it and Neil Gaiman hashtags #Anthony and also it’s Anthony the script book so I guess Michael Sheen is just doing a thing idk). I haven’t seen extensive discussion of this topic but I’m going to jump in with both feet.

I propose that Anthony actually has a double meaning; that is, Crowley chose this name for one reason, but Aziraphale believes he chose it for another.

(I cite as indirect inspo a wonderful Tumblr meta about how the ineffable blockheads have completely different interpretations of Jane Austen and how this informs their S2 decision-making).

Read or bookmark for later on Ao3 because this got away from me and now it's a 2,888 word meta on people named Anthony what am I doing with my life

~~~

First and foremost, let it be stated that there is no canon for when Crowley anti-christened himself Anthony. Neil Gaiman himself won’t know until he writes it.

Secondly, let it be known that I am not an historian nor a literary scholar of any kind. So people who actually know these stories may find themselves cringing at my surface-level summaries and inaccurate interpretations: I’m just piecing together what I could find easily. I invite someone else to revise and republish if they can delve deeper on these topics. 

Part 1: Mark Antony

There is a bust of Marc Antony in Mr. Fell’s bookshop as of S1E1 modern day (2019) which is still there at the end of S2E6, where it features prominently in the center of a shot. In 2019, the bust is adorned with yellow ribbons; in 2023, it is naked. The flashback to 1941 doesn’t give a good view of the part of the shop where the bust would normally be located so I have no idea when the bust actually got added to Aziraphale’s collection. I’m going to assume, for argument’s sake, that Aziraphale acquired this bust after the Blitz. I’m going to further propose that he acquired this bust because he believes that Crowley named himself Anthony after Mark Antony.

Why would Aziraphale think that? Two reasons.

1) Mark Antony was the loser of a civil war for liberty

Mark Antony was a good and loyal Roman citizen, serving Caesar with distinction, even attaining the title of Master of the Horse (Caesar’s second-in-command). See additional metas on horse symbolism seen throughout S2. After the death of Caesar, however, Octavian and members of the senate turned on Antony, starting a civil war. You know, much like a certain someone we know that was involved in Dubious Battle on the Plains of Heaven.

Mark Antony was loyal to Caesar’s political mission, which was to establish a Roman republic, where the voices of the citizens would be heard through their representatives [a suggestion box, if you will]. But Antony’s defeat marked the end of the republic, ushering in an age of autocracy. Octavian, following his victory over Antony, crowned himself the first Emperor of Rome.

2) Mark Antony was a libertine, but also the loyal, ardent lover of Cleopatra

Mark Antony was an infamous, lascivious, debaucherous, womanizing lush. He was also Cleopatra’s lover and closest ally. Though Mark Antony could not often meet with Cleopatra, their affair was allegedly very romantic, and from afar Antony did everything in his power to support Cleopatra politically, expanding her territorial holdings even while they were apart for years. 

So legendary was Antony's wanton hedonism that when he went to Athens, he was deified as the New Dionysus, mystic god of wine, happiness, and immortality. Religious propaganda declared Cleopatra the New Isis or Aphrodite (mythic goddess of love and beauty) to his New Dionysus. The ineffable emperors, if you will. [source: Encyclopedia Britannica]

Parallels arising after 1941:

After Antony had officially divorced Octavian’s sister, Octavian formally broke off the ties of personal friendship with Antony and declared war, not against Antony but against Cleopatra. Much like how Shax, after her S2E1 “you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours” proposal, threatened Crowley that if he did not assist her search for Gabriel, Hell would declare war not on him but on Aziraphale.

The legacy of Mark Antony, therefore, is one of hedonism, romance, fighting for a cause that you believe in, and losing that fight. It’s easy to see how Aziraphale drew the conclusion that Anthony J. Crowley took his inspiration from this historical figure.

Part 2: Antony & Cleopatra

How is this a part 2? Weren’t we just talking about Mark Antony and his relationship with Cleopatra? Hear me out.

Crowley has never expressed much interest in politics. Every time something of political import happens, he declares that the humans made it up themselves while also taking credit for it with Hell. This includes 1793 Paris and the Spanish Inquisition. If I forgot any, drop them in the comments. 

But Crowley has a deep and pervasive interest in stories, especially romance stories. If he can keep the Bentley from turning it into Queen, he listens to the Velvet Underground. He watches Richard Curtis films (to the degree that he identifies them by director rather than by title). Though book canon is not show canon, it’s worth mentioning that his favorite serial is Golden Girls; while not a romance, it is certainly heartfelt storytelling at its finest and a homosexual staple.

We know, too, that Shakspeare stole a line from him, with an adjustment for pronouns:

"Age Does Not Wither, Nor Custom Stale His Infinite Variety”

Let’s first talk about Crowley’s context for the quote.

Picture it: the Globe Theater, 1601, the house is empty because it’s one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones and an irritated young Burbage, in the role of Hamlet, is droning out his lines like he would rather be anywhere else.

Burbage: To be or not to be. That is the question.

Aziraphale: To be! I mean, not to be! Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!

Aziraphale looks at Crowley, grinning with delight. Crowley stares back at him, shaking his head slightly, but a smile tugs at the corner of his lip. He wants to be embarrassed, but cannot help being charmed.

Aziraphale: He’s very good, isn’t he?

Crowley: Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety.

Crowley is looking up at the stage, and speaks immediately after Aziraphale has made a comment about Burbage. But is Crowley talking about Burbage? Does it stand to reason that age would not have withered, or custom not staled, this twenty year old (yet somehow jaded) stage actor?

I propose that this is a poetic inversion of the S2E1 cold open, wherein the Starmaker, looking out upon creation, says: “Look at you, you’re gorgeous!” and Aziraphale erroneously thinks the statement was directed at him. Here, even though Crowley isn’t looking at Aziraphale, I believe that Crowley is actually talking about Aziraphale when he delivers that iconic line. Unlike Burbage, Aziraphale is old, very, very old, and we know that he has a penchant for custom, wearing the same clothes and listening to the same music for century upon century. Yet here is this precious angel being a cheerful little peanut gallery of one, continuing to surprise the demon after all this time. Neither age nor custom has staled Aziraphale’s infinite variety.

When Shakespeare commits the line to a play written 1606-1607, a few years after this event, Crowley will recognize his own sentiment about Aziraphale issuing from Antony’s mouth about Cleopatra. The actual historical events will not have left much of an impression, but the immortalization of his own admiration of the angel in human romantic fiction will have.

It must be mentioned that Antony & Cleopatra is a tragedy, where the star-crossed lovers are kept apart by warring factions that demand loyalty to the state at the preclusion of each other.

There are also some (as far as I can tell) nearly copy-paste plot points from Romeo & Juliet about a misunderstood faked suicide followed by actual suicide and the lovers dying in each others’ arms. It does not have a happy ending. Anthony Crowley deliberately choosing his “Christian name” from this play embodies not only his deep love but his hopelessness that he can ever get the happily ever after he desires.

In Summary

Crowley was an admirer, in one respect or another, of Mark Anthony, though he relied more heavily on Shakespeare’s portrayal and reimagining of the character than Aziraphale gives due credit. Nevertheless, the difference…

Wait a minute…

What’s that?

Is that…

A piece of canon evidence that completely undermines my argument??

This screenshot will only be visible to Tumblr users (sorry Ao3), but at some point we get a good look at the Mona Lisa sketch that Crowley has hanging in his apartment. It is signed (translated from Italian) “To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V.”

The problem with this is, the Mona Lisa was painted 100 years before Shakespeare penned Antony & Cleopatra.

However, Neil Gaiman reblogged this transcription and translation, posing the hypothetical, “I wonder if Crowley knows what the A in A.Z. Fell stands for.”

Could it be that the Notorious NRG is jerking us around and sending us on wild goose chases? Absolutely a possibility. But. Let’s give a little grace for a moment, and assume that this comment was made in good faith. A bold assumption, I know. But humor me.

We know that Crowley and Aziraphale both knew Jane Austen, but from completely different perspectives. It stands to reason that Crowley knew da Vinci the scientist, but that Antonio Fell knew Leo da V., an artist with a heart that yearned for an unavailable lover. I’m just making wild conjecture that Lisa Gherardini (aka Mona Lisa), the wife of Florentine cloth merchant Francesco del Giocondo, was a love interest of da Vinci, but it could be true in the GO universe and would make for a great story.

Aziraphale also collects signed items from famous people; the inscribed books of Professor Hoffman to a wonderful student, and the S.W. Erdnase book, signed with his real name, come to mind. The Mona Lisa draft fits in much better with that collection of souvenirs than with anything in Crowley’s apartment. So it stands to reason that it could actually be addressed to Aziraphale.

There remains the question of how or why Crowley has it, but I won’t subject that to speculation here. All to say. Neil Gaiman’s implication-by-redirect is… possible. So let’s assume that it is the case, just for a moment.

If the Mona Lisa sketch is signed to “Antonio” Fell, then this allows the above theory regarding Crowley’s self-naming to remain intact. But it brings up a few questions regarding Aziraphale, not the least of which is: why did he name himself Antonio/Anthony?

Part 3: Saint Anthony of Padua

Anthony was the chosen name of a Portuguese monk, taken upon joining the Fransican order. Anthony rose to prominence in the 13th century as a celebrated orator, delivering impassioned and eloquent sermons. He is also associated with some fish symbolism, since he preached at the shore and fish gathered to listen. He was, incidentally, a lover of books:

Anthony had a book of psalms that contained notes and comments to help when teaching students and, in a time when a printing press was not yet invented, he greatly valued it.

When a novice decided to leave the hermitage, he stole Anthony's valuable book. When Anthony discovered it was missing, he prayed it would be found or returned to him. The thief did return the book and in an extra step returned to the Order as well.

The book is said to be preserved in the Franciscan friary in Bologna today. [source: https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=24]

This miraculous incident, wherein the thief not only returns a valuable book but also has a change of heart and returns to the bosom of organized religion, smacks of angelic intervention. But that is neither here nor there. 

Saint Anthony is the Patron Saint of the Lost, and is prayed to by those seeking to recover lost things. What is “lost” in this context is usually an item, rather than a person or an intangible concept, however he is also “credited with many miracles involving lost people, lost things and even lost spiritual goods,” such as faith. [Edit: @tsilvy helpfully contributes that "Here in Italy Sant'Antonio is commonly not just the saint patron of lost things, but, maybe primarily, the saint patron of lost *causes*."] He died at the age of 35, and in artwork is typically depicted with a book and the Infant Child Jesus.

It’s a defensible position that the thing that gives Aziraphale the most consternation across the millennia is Crowley’s loss of his angelic status, and it could even be framed such that Aziraphale does not consider Crowley actually fallen, but rather simply lost. It is a fact that he finds difficult to reconcile and, depending on your reading of the Final Fifteen, the offer to restore Crowley’s angelic status is one that is so pivotal to resolving his internal conflict that he cannot refuse. If this conflict is so central for Aziraphale, perhaps he did name himself after a booklover and the patron saint of lost things, hoping that the name would carry with it some of the power of the blessing, and return Crowley to the light, and in turn, to him.

But wait.

Because I googled “St Anthony” to look for some images and….

St. Anthony of the Desert

I shit you not there are multiple St. Antonies and we’re going to talk about another one of them with respect to Aziraphale because this guy is bonkers. The story traces to the Vitae Patrum, yet another fringe biblical text and I cannot even get a quick answer on whether it is canon or apocrypha because it’s so fringe. Anyways. I think the best way to explain St. Anthony of the Desert comes from the wikipedia page on the Desert Fathers: 

Sometime around AD 270, Anthony heard a Sunday sermon stating that perfection could be achieved by selling all of one's possessions, giving the proceeds to the poor, and following Jesus. He followed the advice and made the further step of moving deep into the desert to seek complete solitude.

[He] became known as both the father and founder of desert monasticism. By the time Anthony had died in AD 356, thousands of monks and nuns had been drawn to living in the desert following Anthony's example, leading his biographer, Athanasius of Alexandria, to write that "the desert had become a city." The Desert Fathers had a major influence on the development of Christianity.

Let’s all agree that this guy is not Aziraphale; this whole becoming an ascetic and living alone in the middle of a desert thing? Not his cuppertea. But St. Anthony is interesting not just for his decision to go into the desert, but what happened when he got there.

The Torment of St Anthony is a 15th century painting commonly attributed to Michaelangelo. It depicts demons crawling all over and attacking a hermit.

But the first round of demons are scraping the bottom of the barrel, practically the damned. Anthony’s journey continues and he meets another demon. Actually he meets two; a centaur, who is not very helpful, and then a satyr who is. It is much easier to find paintings of St. Anthony and the Centaur than of St. Anthony and the Satyr, so you don’t get an image, but I find the satyr to be a much more interesting character, so you get that story instead:

Anthony found next the satyr, "a manikin with hooked snout, horned forehead, and extremities like goats's feet." This creature was peaceful and offered him fruits, and when Anthony asked who he was, the satyr replied, "I'm a mortal being and one of those inhabitants of the desert whom the Gentiles, deluded by various forms of error, worship under the names of Fauns, Satyrs, and Incubi. I am sent to represent my tribe. We pray you in our behalf to entreat the favor of your Lord and ours, who, we have learnt, came once to save the world, and 'whose sound has gone forth into all the earth.'" Upon hearing this, Anthony was overjoyed and rejoiced over the glory of Christ. He condemned the city of Alexandria for worshiping monsters instead of God while beasts like the satyr spoke about Christ.

St. Anthony, then, is entreated by a demon to ask forgiveness from God upon the demons, and St. Anthony, seemingly, agrees to do it. He’s overjoyed to ask God to forgive demons. In connection to my analysis of the origins of the Metatron, and how Aziraphale and Crowley’s potential beef with him is that, as a human put in the exact same situation, he did the opposite, refusing to take the demon’s petition for mercy to God but instead taking it upon himself to confirm their unforgivability (yes that’s a word now) and damnation.

That seems like it would be pretty important to Aziraphale.

In Summary

I give up. I have no idea what’s going on with this show anymore. Here are two options each for both of our ineffable husbands to have given themselves the same God-blessed/damned name. You guys tell me what you think, I just have a pile of evidence and no spoons to evaluate it. 

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt III doctor who but I've still never watched it

Hello yes Good Omens mascot here, I am making a DW summary because I'm trying unsuccessfully to distract myself from doubling over in pain after the Good Omens season 2 ending. Here you go:

First off, let me just say a very hearty thank you to the entire DW fandom for educating me during part I and part II as well as my Pinterest research. You have successfully managed to teach me nothing about Doctor Who, but every single last detail of David Tennant's life and family. Please seek help.

Timey wimey.

*checks notes* So David Tennant wrote fanfiction of DW in school and got into trouble, and he married the daughter of a previous Doctor from the classic DW whom he met on set, and he saw an episode of DW as a three year old and it inspired him to become a doctor. There's a joke that David didn't want to return as the 14th doctor but did it just to avoid Michael Sheen getting the role because as we all know the BBC has 12 actors and half are David and Michael who are incidentally glued together. David Tennant adopted his wife's kid and so now they have a total of five kids together. This morning for breakfast David ate a sandwich with one less slice of cheese which is a clue for GO season 3-

The police are rhinos, kind of like Zootopia. They kill people.

The TARDIS is the Doctor's best friend. She came up with a name and didn't tell the Doctor. So they call her Sexy.

Timey wimey.

Michael Sheen is a sentient planet.

Someone named Harry is present in the classic DW. At one point someone else says 'something something Harry' idk and Harry says 'Me?' and the other says 'there's only two of us here and your name is Harry'.

There is a slutty head and it was supposed to be dead but it procrastinated that to see David Tennant.

Timey wimey.

There is a sonic screwdriver, and it is used for very many things, but for a good ten minutes trying to research it I thought it was Sonic the Hedgehog merch. Incidentally, I don't know what that is, either.

The slutty head is pregnant a lot. It sits in a jar.

There is a minefield and then someone is standing on a landmine instead of following the other person. One of them is the Doctor.

The TARDIS expands because it is tired of holding its tummy in.

It's bigger on the inside.

Timey wimey.

The Doctor periodically kidnaps people to accompany them.

Everything is queer.

Timey wimey.

Time Lords are a thing. I don't know if the Doctor is a Time Lord.

Wilf meets a David Doctor and everyone cries.

There are Baby Yoda goblins and an alien named Meep and actually a lot of aliens are there.

There is a literal arsehole with the ability of speech.

Timey wimey.

[invisibleicewands]

Interview with Michael Sheen

What made you say yes to being a part of The Assembly?

I said yes to being a part of The Assembly because it was just such an extraordinary and interesting idea. Then reading about the original French series, it just sounded so extraordinary, different and potentially a very revealing way to approach the tried and tested interview process, but obviously it is a lot more than just being an interview. The interview part of it is just one aspect of the project and I think there is still a lot of confusion, ignorance and fear around people with any kind of difference. I think being able to be involved in a project like this could maybe break down some of those barriers.

How is this different from any other TV show you’ve been a part of?

It’s very much unfiltered and that’s really exciting and quite nerve wracking for that reason! So much on TV is sort of smoothed out and filtered and made safe and this, certainly in the making of it, felt very not that! All the better and more refreshing for it too. I know a lot of work is put into the research and preparation for a show like this, but in terms of the actual questions being asked and the experience that you have in all being together when you’re filming, it feels very unpredictable in a really good way and really lead by the people taking part, which is terrific.

How did you feel going into filming?

Well I didn’t really have anything to go on, so I was excited. Sometimes when I’m going to be interviewed, I know what the interview is going to be about, I have a vague idea of the questions that will come up, I know the sort of things that I need to get across about what I’m there to talk about. But with this, I really had no idea what I was going to be asked, so I had to be prepared for everything and anything, there was a kind of freedom in that I suppose. Because of the unfiltered nature of what was going to happen and not being able to anticipate what might be asked, it was a little nerve wracking yes, but I was mainly just very excited!

Did your experience differ from what you were expecting and if so how?

Well I didn’t know what to expect really, so it’s not that it wasn’t what I was expecting because you can’t expect anything! There's no way you can expect anything because you just don’t know what’s going to happen, and because it is so unfiltered and unpredictable in terms of what might happen, where things might go, how people might be feeling on the day. For all the difficult questions that got asked at times, it just felt very loving and joyful and that everyone was very happy and excited to be there even though people were nervous or had anxiety at different times. There was a genuine feeling of community and I felt very welcomed into that community and ready to play so to speak, and you have to be ready to play. I felt very safe and looked after and it was just really, very funny as well – there was lots of laughter and wonderful things that people asked, responded to and performed, I mean I wasn’t expecting all of that, that was just wonderful! So many moments that I’ll never forget.

How does this compare to any other interview you’ve experienced?

It’s so unfiltered! The closest thing I can say is The One Show, where you go on to talk about one thing and then they ask you about everything else that’s going on on the show, so you get a question about your favourite bus route, then they ask you about otters! There’s an extraordinary pinball effect of questions and that’s the closest I could describe, but The Assembly is that x100. It really is extraordinary and that’s very unlike any other interview I’ve done really, usually everything is meant to follow on logically and have a kind of smoothness and polish to it, and this is just really raw and unfiltered and uncensored and I love that, I thought that was wonderful.

What can viewers expect from the show?

I imagine it will be very funny and I think quite moving. I was quite moved at times by seeing how much people had to struggle to overcome certain things they were dealing with in order to ask questions at times. That was uplifting. I think it will be different, it will be thought provoking I hope, and challenging in certain ways; challenging certain kinds of myths and stereotypes I think and ultimately just really entertaining and fun and joyful. I can’t really remember what I said, so I don’t know what people will learn about me... but it’s not about me, it’s about that fantastic group of people, but I certainly got a huge amount out of it too and I hope an audience will as well.

[denimbex1986]

'...Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

“I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

“Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

“This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[mckiwi]

So I met David Tennant this weekend…

Story time below the cut:

Thursday 7/11: Driving Down

I live in south GA so I just drove down to Miami, FL for the convention. Left about 11:30am and got to Miami at 9pm. Checked into the hotel and ordered food from DoorDash. Practically passed out cause I was so tired from that drive.

Friday 7/12: Day Before The Convention

Friday didn’t offer much at first. I was meeting a friend down there and their flight didn’t land in Miami until that night. In the meanwhile I went to Publix to get some drinks and snacks for the room and got lunch from Subway. We went down to the boardwalk area for a bit once she landed and went downtown to get something to eat. It was a bit expensive but good, what else would you expect. Saw where Georgia posted on her story showing she and David were also downtown. Promptly freaked out and got excited at knowing he was within a few miles radius of us. (Didn’t ever see him obviously). Turns out the free public parking wasn’t free and got a ticket for $30… oops. Went back to the hotel and played Battleship and went to bed.

Saturday 7/13: Day of the Convention

Got an Uber there cause I’m not dealing with that traffic again and arrived at like 9am. Waited in line until 10am for the show floor to open. We walked around a bit cause our photo op wasn’t scheduled until 11:10. I got a TARDIS and 221B keychain as well as a Supercon t-shirt. We got in line and got our picture between like 11:20-11:30ish I think? It’s a blur tbh, I saw him and lost all track of time. It was really quick so I couldn’t really get to talk to him. It was just a “hey” “hi” 📸 “have a good one.” 👋🏻 It was a long wait in the line but it passed by pretty quickly cause I got to talk to a few other people in line. This was honestly one of the best parts of the convention besides David himself because I got to meet such like-minded people. You could strike up a conversation with practically anyone and have tons of common interests. My friend and I actually kinda made friends with this other girl that was there by herself so the three of us stuck together the rest of the day. His panel started at 12:30, so we were in line by 11:50 and sat by 12:25. His panel was really fun. It’s really interesting watching his thought process happen live cause it’s so chaotic. I love him and his failed analogies.

David: “I’m going to stop now. I can smell the frosting from here.”

They had a Q&A in the second half of the panel. The new girl and I actually got in line to do the Q&A, but if you know anything about David you know he’s gonna take his time to fully answer even the simplest of questions, so we got through maybe 6-7 questions within 30 minutes. One of those questions was actually from his own kids, so that was funny. I’m not sure if it was Olive or Wilfred that asked, they were both there.

Kid: “who’s your favorite kid?”

David: “who’s your favorite parent?”

Kid: “well Georgia just recorded for a book, so-”

After the panel, the three of us battled the autograph line. We had prepaid for our autograph, so we got in one line from like 12:45-1:45 to register our QR code or whatever and get a little blue ticket. Then we had to wait in another line from like 2:30-5 to get the autograph. Was worth it though. My friend got a book signed and she made a little drawing for him, which he accepted and had her give it to one of his kids to hold onto. I had him sign my Crowley cover of Good Omens (plan to one day have Michael Sheen sign the Aziraphale cover). I honestly can’t remember exactly how our conversation went but it was something along the lines of

David: “Hi, [my name]!”

Me: “Hey!”

David: “So you want me to just sign right here?” (Indicates top half of the inside cover)

Me: “Yea, that’s fine right there!” (Gives a second for him to sign) “I also made this for you if you’d like. It’s coasters of you and your family’s names in Gallifrayan.”

David: (finishes signing and looks up) “oh, that’s neat! That’s all of us in Gallifrayan?”

Me: “Yea, this is Wilfred’s on top I think.”

David: “Cool! Give this to them (gestures to his kids sitting beside him) so they can investigate it.”

I handed the coaster set to Olive and she did actually start investigating it which I find funny and was showing it to Wilfred. My friend also had a small interaction with them and gave them some bracelets she made. They actually put them on so that was nice. I saw them looking at the coasters still as I was walking away so I hope they like them. (Pictures are of the coasters and some examples of what they looked like. Did all 7 of their names as well as “Tennant” to make it an even 8).

After the autograph, we pretty much just wrapped things up and got ready to leave. We said bye to the new girl and exchanged contact info. Got an Uber back and DoorDashed dinner. Was in bed by 10.

Sunday 7/14: Drive Back Home

What it says on the tin. My friend had to get up at like 3am for her flight so we had to call it a night pretty early Saturday and I left the hotel about 11:30am Sunday morning. Got home about 7pm.

Overall a 10/10 experience. Even with the large crowds, no one was fighting or anything and were generally very nice. Next time there’s a convention somewhat close to me I’m totally ready to go.

[ineffabildaddy]

Hi sam! since the new year is approaching rapidly, i wanted to ask my favorite creators (that includes you! your fics and your posts delight me) how they look back on their 2023 tumblr year and which blogs made them happy to be here. i am very happy to follow you and hope you'll have a great 2024! 💘

hi!!! thank you so so much for this, a few months ago i couldn't even imagine being so active in the tumblr community again, let alone anyone's favourite anything!!!!

i've been very fortunate to receive the warmest of welcomes back to tumblr after a 7-year absence, and i've received so much support for my writing (and my shitposts lol) that this whole experience of finally joining the good omens fandom has genuinely given me a newfound confidence in my creative self, and in myself as a whole💙

in terms of the blogs that make me happy to be here... they are many!!! i shall put the rest of this post under the cut

@raining-stars-somewhere-else thank you for being my first go friend and now one of my closest buddies!!! i can't wait for us to finally write that fic together (lol) and for us to get up to some irl london shenanigans at some point✨ ur hilarious and kind and so correct about literally everything and i love u. literally everyone needs to read ur posts bc they're so well-thought out and unique. also your fics are really moving and human (even though they're about crowley and aziraphalekldfjgjl) and i adore them

@sad-chaos-goblin we literally just Get Each Other, same brain and all, and i absolutely love it!!! i couldn't ask for a better horny consultant bc after all it is Our Pornography™. you're also just an extremely understanding, open and lovely person, not to mention very fun and exciting to be friends with hehe. ur headcanons are so fucking interesting (and sometimes sad, how dare u do this to me) and i'm looking forward to hearing more when u eventually get round to writing all those fics you've got ideas for<3

@foolishlovers i'm really really happy we've got to know each other better over the past couple weeks!!!!! your xmas fic is one of my absolute favourite fics ever and i'm in awe with your skill and craft, i hope to write something as well-rounded and enjoyable as that someday<3 also you're one of my favourite posters, so fucking funny and u just make points left right and centre. i hope we can share our writing and our thoughts about life in general more in 2024!!!

@crowleyslvt i'm very happy i barged my way into your dms to be horny on main bc i definitely wouldn't've explored half the things i've explored in my writing if not for our discussions and your encouragement!!! i absolutely love talking writing and sexy headcanons with you, but above that i love that i'm now mates with such a talented, considerate, hilarious kiwi lad. i am honoured to be one of the little guys in ur phone who gets to hype up u as an exceedingly great porn writer but also as a legend in general

@voluptatiscausa no one understands my feralness for michael sheen like you do. i can go batshit insane in the dms over ms and dt with u and that space is important to me dlgkljdgldfjgl. i'm really glad i started reading ur writing this year bc it's very enjoyable, but it's also healing for me as a person who's [whispers] a traumatised and cripplingly shy person in terms of sex lmao. thank you for bestowing it upon ao3, and by extension, upon me!!!! also tho, you're a really nurturing and interesting friend to have, not to mention a Very Cool one so continue to be that pls and thanks

@bowtiepastabitch i've felt very honoured to hear about parts of your life as you share them with me - Knowing The Lore is so important to me and i'm humbled that you've trusted me with some of the stuff that's been happening in your world<3 on another note, your fanart may be quick but it's never shitty, it's always so expressive and fun and gets my brain Thinking Thoughts. i can't express how wonderful it was when you made a wee bit of fanart for one of my fics, and i hope i continue to see ur creativity shine✨

thank you to my favourite blogs for Existing Throughout 2023 (some of whom i know i can call friends, and the rest of whom i'd like to call friends in the future!!!) @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @ineffableigh @celestialcrowley @queer-reader-07 @crowleyraejepsens @teddybearbutchh @crowleyholmes @ineffable-rohese @createserenity @quoththemaiden @procrastiel @sentientsky @genderqueer-hippie @beelzzzebub @lineffability @fellshish @greenthena @brainwormcity @opscuritas @tangerine-ginger @iammyownproblematicfave @crikey01 @crawley-fell @vroomvroomwee @bildads-shoes @shoemakerobstetrician @romansmartini @wraithee

i know i'll have forgotten people so i'll add em as i remember em hehehehe

[ingravinoveritas]

Why do I feel like this post just got personal and going in for the attack like she did for the radio one on twitter I'm not shocked or surprised by this cos the behaviour is getting more stranger and nasty and a fan on twitter shared this on her page saying we got ur bk u got a whole army behind u. I'm sorry what army and I'm sure if they spilt the fans wouldn't be behind her them they literally making it worst

What do u think ?

So, I saw/got a whole bunch of DMs over this Insta story this morning, but didn't have a chance to talk about it until now.

My first thought was that this was almost certainly in response to the negative reviews and backlash coming out for The Way in the wake of episode 3. The two biggest culprits in terms of media outlets seem to be the Daily Mail (Fail) and the Telegraph, and while I won't link to them here because I don't want to give either site any traffic, both reviews can easily be found via a Google search. Adding to those were a stream of vicious comments, both in the comments sections on the respective websites and on social media, largely from what seem to be right-wing/leaning accounts and public figures.

Knowing that, it made me think that Michael had to have been aware of what the potential reaction to the show could be. We know he was, actually, because he's talked about it in several interviews over the past few weeks, such as this one. And I think with Michael being who he is, he would be entirely amused at knowing he has pissed off exactly the right people. So while I could certainly see him in private having a reaction like the one in AL's story--more than understandably so, given how nasty some of the reviews and comments were--that doesn't necessarily mean it's a good reaction to have publicly. And I think Michael knows that, too.

What also adds to the disconnect for me is that a few hours later, an article that Michael had written as a rebuttal came out in the New Statesman:

What Michael wrote is a brilliant repudiation of remarks made by a Tory MP--a piece that is intelligent, snarky, direct yet unfailingly eloquent. It wasn't just Michael defending his show, but using it (and Nye) to make a point, to make clear what he believes in, and to stand for the truth. And in much the same way that Michael's acting and oratory skills elevate any piece of work he performs, his writing conveyed that same depth, and it came across as effortless as everything else he does.

Which again left me with that feeling of disconnect when looking at Michael's article side-by-side with Anna's Insta story. It's not even that I disagree with her in this instance, as I do think the reviews were unduly harsh and devolved entirely too quickly into personal attacks in the comments. It's that when it comes to acting/directing, criticisms are part of the job, and whether she intended it or not, an Insta story like AL's conveys a sense of unprofessionalism. And when you put it next to Michael's writing, it looks more like a teenager throwing a fit instead of an adult giving a fierce clapback, which again probably was her intention.

Also keep in mind that everything I just wrote is predicated on the idea that someone seeing this story knows what AL is talking about. But I have to wonder how readily apparent it was, because it's so vague that it would probably be difficult for most people to suss out what she is referencing. So it's confusing to me that she is seemingly charging to Michael's defense...but without actually saying his name or the name of the show. Again, it feels like there is a disconnect/sharp contrast between Anna vague-blogging and how specific and incisive Michael was in that article, and it seems like they're not even close to being on the same page.

Those are my thoughts on Anna's Insta story from this morning. It's definitely a fair bit of whiplash, especially given the drastically different tone of her last few recent posts. But I'm interested as always to hear from my followers with your take, regardless of whether you agree or disagree. Thank you for writing in! x

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil Gaiman and Roz Kaveney at the British Library event Why We Need Fantasy 20.11.2023 :) ❤

Neil: Good omens Season One was, for me, an exercise in adaptation. I'd taken something, and I wanted to turn it into something else. Good Omens Season Two, on the other hand, was just an absolute joy, because now I knew I have Jon Hamm, and I can get him to do this stuff, and he's going to be walking naked through Soho at the beginning, and everybody is going to think they're going to hate him, and instead, he's going to be this marvelous, goofy figure that they will all love but kind of hate themselves for loving, but not know if he's a bad guy, but they'll love him anyway. And over here, I will have my Crowley, and I know that I can get David Tennant to do anything now, there is nothing that he will not go for. And so I can ask him to do things that are even more ridiculous. And then over here, I've got Michael Sheen, and everybody in the whole world just wants to..., you know, it is now forgotten by humanity that once upon a time, Michael Sheen was thought of as that actor who plays the really creepy people.

Roz: Yeah. I saw him in Kingdom of Heaven the other night and thought, oh, that was Michael Sheen.

Neil: That was Michael Sheen.

Roz: The evil priest that gets killed.

Neil: He used to play... I mean, he used to play creepy people, and everybody knew that if you want a good, slimy serial killer person, you go for Michael Sheen. Currently - I got a phone call from him the other day - a little Marco Polo video message from him with the strangest haircut I've seen, and I get strange messed... you know, hair, but this one, and he's playing Prince Andrew, so he's absolutely capable of still bringing in the creep. But, you know, Michael having just become this cuddly, cinnamon roll creature of pure love and joy and knowing that everybody was just going to want to cuddle him for six episodes until I let him break their hearts. I'm sorry. Perhaps he will-

Audience member: No, you're not.

Neil: Not even the tiniest bit. There is no sorrow in that.

Roz: I was in hospital when I saw Good Omens Two and the moment I finished watching it, I texted you and said, 'You magnificent bastard.'

Watch the whole event here :).

[nastasya--filippovna]

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

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

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

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

Good Omens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I try to ignore it.

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

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

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

And my mind went whoooooooosh!

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

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

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

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

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

GO and DW. Best things that ever happened to me

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

Meena x

[wellhalesbells]

Okay, so, new shows I've picked this fall are English Teacher (which entirely has to do with it being a Brian Jordan Alvarez joint and The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo remains one of the best things ever. I love it so far and Markie steals every scene he's in) and High Potential (which I am literally only watching for Kaitlin Olson, though Judy Reyes was a lovely surprise! It's a not-so-great premise and it is another cop show [blech] but Kaitlin Olson is freaking wonderful in it and it is a popcorn show so..... either it'll really click and it'll be on forever or it won't and it'll die in its first season. We shall see. Every time I try to make a prediction on which procedural show will last, I am always wrong lol).

Other ones I'm planning to check out are How to Die Alone (I have never seen Natasha Rothwell in something - Insecure or Love, Simon - and not thought: more, MORE so I really need to get to this one. Especially since she's not just the star but also the creator), Murder in a Small Town (I completely get why true crime podcasts/shows would be so bingeable but I also can't help but feel gross indulging in them so fictional ones should be perfect for me. Like, I really like books that have true crime podcasts in them so this show will hopefully scratch that itch, right? Not to say that this has a true crime podcast in it but that should be the vibe, yeah? And I'm willing to get further away from it because Bodkin was honestly such a disappointment for me), Penelope (Mark Duplass is pretty much the whole draw here, I like the stuff he does but the description is so bleh so I keep forgetting about it) and Grotesquerie (honestly this is because I always try to get in on a Ryan Murphy show on the ground floor because almost every time I find them, there are 80,000 episodes and everyone is telling you it's shit anyway, lol. I also have no problem dropping his shows if they're terrible - I don't even think I made it out of the first season of Glee and I know I only got as far as I did because of Jane Lynch. Plus, Niecey Nash! I follow my Reno 911! people around, I can't help myself). I am completely on the fence about A Very Royal Scandal (as mentioned, I don't like rooting around through real people's trauma and the only draw to this is Michael Sheen). Oh and maybe Twilight of the Gods (I want someone else to watch this and tell me if it's at all worthwhile or if it's too bro-y for words because sometimes.... *coughs*).

Ones that aren't out yet but that I'm definitely gonna poke at: Teacup (a James Wan horror show? Yes, please!), Disclaimer (this sounds bonkers and Cate Blanchett and Kevin Kline? Okay fine, I'm in.), St. Denis Medical (some of my favorite comic actors and I like Abbott Elementary, okay, so if people keep wanting to apply that formula elsewhere? I'm for it!), Interior Chinatown (sounds like it could be cool as hell), The Franchise (if we have to keep doing superheores, at least we're switching up the premise for them), Sweetpea (there's just nothing about this that doesn't appeal to me, lol), maybe The Pradeeps of Pittsburgh (I liked Fresh Off the Boat a lot, the problem is all the descriptions make it sound like it's just that show but with an Indian family now and I don't know if I liked it enough to watch it again, y'know?), A Man on the Inside (Mike Schur, Ted Danson, Stephanie Beatriz? You couldn't keep me away from this if you tried), and The Madness (it's all for Colman Domingo, act surprised). Maybe Poppa's House (I love Damon Wayans, Jr., but I have a massive hate hard-on for CBS shows, they feel so soulless to me and everything contributes to that. The laugh tracks, the lighting, the acting, etc.).

So this is partly for me to keep track of shows that I want to watch/aren't out yet and partly because I have an ad blocker, I don't watch anything that can give me commercials, and this is the only social media I'm on so if you've heard of something that sounds cool (or you've checked out one of the ones on my list and are like: well you could watch that or just stab a pencil in your eye instead...) let me know!

[farfromstrange]

Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter Four: Dirty Chai

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader (afab)

Summary: Michael can't stop thinking about you and you can’t stop thinking about him. Although the way you channel your feelings inherently differs. At lunch, you decide to become his personal coffee delivery service and hope it will get you some answers. He's not very open when it comes to his past, but you manage to see a glimpse of who he really is. Or, you take another shot at unraveling Michael's guarded heart, still hoping he will finally take a step toward you in return and that this odd attraction you’re feeling isn't just one-sided.

Warnings: Smutty themes 18+ MINORS DNI, male masturbation, allusions to oral sex, allusions to handjobs & allusions to p in v, fluff, pining, kissing, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: This is just a taste for what's to come, both in the naughty and in the angsty sense. Thank you all so much for your love and support so far and I am currently planning a continuation of this series with these two that follows the actual storyline and plot of the show but also with my own twist on it. I'm not sure when or how, but I've got the idea because Butterfly Effect has become by far one of my favorite fics to work on because it's just a bunch of human beings with no superpowers, and that's an awesome challenge after writing Marvel for so long. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

Read All Previous Parts Here...

18+ under the cut!

Michael dreams of you. Your lips on his, your hands in his hair. He dreams of the dress you wore the day before last, the soft skin of your thighs, the smell of your perfume, and how it felt to hold your hand.

He dreams of you and your godly lips. He thinks about what else you could do with them, how your hands would feel tugging at his hair as he gets on his knees to worship you, to show you that you deserve to be pleased too, and he wonders what the rest of you would taste like. You’re divine, there is no doubt about that, but he feels this desperate need to spread you open and eat you whole like you’re his last meal on death row. He craves more than a kiss. You’re everywhere as he sleeps, and your lips paint delicate patterns on his skin until he’s writhing in the sheets. 

With a gasp, Michael’s eyes shoot open. He’s lying on his back, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. He looks down. His cock is aching hard in his boxers. 

It’s morally wrong to think of you in that context. It’s even worse that he reaches into his underwear to find pre-cum leaking out of the mushroom tip, but he’s so hard, it hurts, and he can still feel your lips on his.

This obviously isn’t the first time he has woken up hard after a dream, but he had never craved it to be a reality until now, and that’s all he can think about.

If you hadn’t pulled away the day before, would you have asked him into your apartment? Would you have led him to your bed, take your clothes off, and spread your legs for him so he could indulge in something other than the voices in his head? He now knows that your touch can make the world go quiet. He realized that there is something about you being so physically close to him that makes all the blood rush from his head to his cock, and he feels as if he’s on a high or drunk or both when he thinks about the power of your hands alone. Your mouth though, that’s the strongest weapon you possess. Not just when it comes to words.

He remembers the kiss vividly. Your lips moved with a purpose like this was something you knew you wanted, and they moved rhythmically against his as if you’d done it a million times before. He remembers getting lost in how warm you felt. Your chapstick still lingers, and when he opens his mouth, he swears he can taste you. 

His cock throbs. It’s so wrong it already feels right again; the relief he feels when he starts stroking up and down his shaft to the faintest memory of your lips makes everything else turn gray. 

Your hand would be softer than his calloused fingers, but from what he could tell before, you have a stern grip and you would probably pay close attention to every last vein and the slit that drags through his tip with your delicate fingers because you never do anything short of perfection. 

You would be eager to make him come undone in the palm of your hands, maybe you would even use your mouth. Those lips that he only got to taste once would wrap around his cock. You would struggle to get him down your throat fully at first, but then you would hollow your cheeks and suck his soul right out of his body through his cock. The pleasure would be out of this world.

You would suck and lick at him, you would kiss him all over as your hands explore his body, and you would make sure he’s taken care of everywhere at once. Maybe your nails would rake over his skin, tug at his chest hair and find his nipples only to play with them. You’re addicted to detail, and you would feel so good wrapped around his cock – first your mouth and then your sweet cunt he suspects tastes just as perfect as your lips.

Michael thinks about you in the lewdest of ways and the guilt is knocking on his door relentlessly, but he’s lost in the feeling of his hand that he wants nothing more than to be yours as he strokes faster and squeezes his aching cock harder. His abs tighten. He groans and he pants and he knows by saying your name in such ecstasy makes what he’s doing even more wrong, but then he thinks about your mouth and that smile of yours turning into a slack jaw as you’re writhing and moaning his name, preferably with his head between your thighs or his cock buried deep inside of you instead of his sloppy hand, and he’s done for. 

It takes only a few more strokes before his cum spills messily into his palm and all over his stomach, and the orgasm is painfully intense, it drags on for ages as your face dances foggily in front of his inner eyes and your voice whispers sweet nothings into his ear. 

Perverse, that’s the first word that comes to mind when Michael finds his way back to himself. What he just did crosses so many boundaries, and yet the secrecy and obscenity of the situation makes his cock twitch all over again. You’re unaware of the thoughts you have put into his head. You’re so innocent, untouchable, and that makes you even more intriguing. He wants what he could have, but in his mind, he can’t have you, and that makes him want you even more.

Michael wants you in more ways than just because he’s seeking comfort, and as the physical need grows bigger, the demons in his head are going crazy with what it would mean if he acted on his desires the way he wants to. 

Do you touch yourself to the thought of him too? He wonders. Did he get you as worked up as you did him? He hopes. The thought of you touching yourself while moaning his name, perhaps with a vibrator or your slender fingers alone barely allows him to get off the cliff he jumped off from. He doesn’t want to think about it because you pleasuring yourself to the thought of him has the power to make him hard again, but he catches his mind slipping to the sight of you in your bed, the sheets barely covering your naked body as you fuck yourself, and his name slips from your lips so sinfully perfect.

Michael.

He groans. His cum sticks to his stomach, and it’s seemingly everywhere. He can’t do this again. It’s wrong.

All he wants to know is if he has the same effect on you, but you were the one who kissed him, you’re the one who keeps making moves, and he suspects he’s not so far off with his suspicions. But it’s dangerous territory he finds himself on, he realizes that now more than ever. 

And the day hasn’t even started yet. So much could happen in a span of twenty-four hours, enough to change the course of everything. He’s not consistent like you, and his life is too messy.

On the other end of the city, you’re floating. It feels like it, anyway. When you come to work that morning, everything is perfect. Well, it’s not entirely perfect, but you’re somewhere on cloud nine and can’t be bothered with theatrics. 

You serve every customer with an extra bright smile. Today though, you’re not being kinder than usual to make up for a bad day; you’re being nice because you’re happy. You feel fulfilled. The sun is out on the streets and especially, it is shining brightly into your heart. 

“Have a wonderful day!” you tell the elderly woman who ordered your signature latte when you hand it to her, and she gives you a bright smile back in return. 

It’s days like today that you live for. 

Sarah cocks her head to the side. “Okay, what did ya smoke today?” she asks. 

You stop humming the song that’s stuck in your head – whatever was on the radio this morning truly spoke out of your soul, and now the melody won’t escape you. “What?” you ask. 

“Yer very happy today. Unusually chipper. Especially to the fuckers who are being absolute cunts in here. So ya either snorted a line of coke this morning or somethin’ exciting happened last night.”

You ignore her suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, sure. Ya have a glow surrounding you. Did ya finally get some cock last night?”

“Sarah!” You swat her playfully. 

The customers in the café don’t need to know every detail about your sex life. You wish you had one, and you would probably glow just as much, but it was just a kiss. A kiss that makes you feel like you’re in another world, but still just a kiss.

You sigh almost dreamily. His mouth would surely feel even better all over your body. Attention to detail, you’re sure that might be his thing. It wouldn’t be the first time you fantasized about his hands or his mouth on you, but you don’t feel as comfortable doing it at work as at home in the privacy of your own bedroom. 

“Seriously,” Sarah snaps you out of it again, “what is going on with you?”

You twirl and throw the towel over your shoulder. With a grin, you turn back to her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you say. 

“I do, that’s why I asked.”

“Can’t I just be happy?” 

“If it’s about Mister Tall-And-Mysterious who came in the other day–”

You cut her off, “I have tables to clean.” 

“Did he come in ya this time?”

“SARAH!”

Her laugh echoes through the room, the blush on your cheeks threatening to overtake every inch of skin it can find. 

Grabbing a bowl of warm water, you make your way into the sitting area. Sarah’s eyes remain on you, and you can tell she’s suspicious. She won’t leave you alone until she’s got her answers, but you are still too happy to jinx anything; you would rather keep her guessing than gush about something that might shatter your heart sooner or later. For now, you want to be happy, and cloud nine is comfortable enough for that. 

Your eyes flick to the clock almost anxiously, counting down the minutes to your lunch break. When it finally strikes twelve, you’re back behind the counter and you’re using the lack of business to use the coffee machine for your own purpose.

Sarah watches you as you brew some espresso on one end while pouring a perfectly balanced chai tea into two cups. You add the coffee and the fresh foam, a bit of cinnamon and caramel, and to top it off, you paint an actual butterfly on it with cocoa powder, and that’s when she knows that you’re not preparing coffee for another customer or yourself, even. You’re doing this for someone else. 

You write the name on the cup in capital letters. “Perfect,” you murmur to yourself. 

“Should I book that Dirty Chai on your account?” Sarah asks. 

You cast her a knowing smirk and she returns it. 

“Go get him, darling. One of us has to.”

With a quick yet cheery, “Thank you. Appreciate it!” You lose your apron, get your bag from the break room and head out into the busy streets, the two to-go cups balancing in your hands.

You go past the gas station next to the deli a little outside of downtown, and that’s when you spot the car dealer Michael mentioned, and the car wash that connects to it. To you, this is the best idea you’ve had in a while. 

The jacket around your shoulders is his. You’re wearing a soft cardigan underneath; your skin is used to Dublin’s rather low temperatures, after all, so you can easily give the jacket back to him – although you considered keeping it that morning, and that thought is quick to reappear when you reach your destination. And then, you get nervous. 

What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if you interpreted the kiss wrong? What if he thinks you’re crazy for remembering where he works? And what if he tells you to go to hell and you will never find someone as special as Michael again?

Now you’re overthinking and quite frankly, you know you’re overreacting, but damn it, you can’t stop the spiral your mind falls into, not even if you tried. 

Getting what you want is so much harder in practice. Your thoughts have been all around him for a while now, but last night knocked it out of the park. Every living thought is about this man you barely know, and you woke up with the sudden urge to change that. You’re determined, and you are going to get what you want. 

As someone always so focused on doing the right thing and pleasing everyone else, meeting someone who doesn’t know how to make the first step because he, himself, is caught up in shit you don’t quite understand yet is a challenge that forces you to come out of your shell. 

You fidget with your dress. You hope the perfume you added before you left doesn’t smell like you’re trying too hard, and you send a prayer to a God you don’t believe that your hair isn’t ruined from the walk. The coffee is still hot, which eases your nerves a little, but you’re not even sure he’s going to like it – it’s a different take on coffee once again, one that you’re not sure if he’s going to like. Is he a tea person? If he’s not, he might not like it. What if he doesn’t? You’re going to look like such an idiot if he doesn’t like it and you came to his place of work just to bring him coffee that’s actually tea with toppings that don’t usually go into a Dirty Chai for nothing. 

You don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard, but it suddenly feels like you’re a walking groupie if not a stalker already. 

No, you paid for these drinks, you painted a fucking butterfly onto the foam, which is a hard task to achieve, so you have to at least try. 

You once again take a step toward him. Now quite literally. 

Michael is engrossed in spraying down the Prius before him with a hose that he doesn’t see nor feel the curtain behind him shift. You watch him for quite some time, his sleeves rolled back and the rest of his clothing covered in wet splatters. His hair is disheveled. There is something tragically elegant about the way he looks, even when he’s a mess, and the flexing of the muscles in his forearm makes you sweat. 

“So this is what you do all day,” you decide to speak up. 

He almost loses control of the hose when your voice tears him out of the thoughts that were inevitably about you, too. He turns to look at you. You can tell he didn’t expect you to come. 

“That looks even more exhausting than my job, and I have to talk to people.”

Your name rolls off his tongue in a stammer and his cheeks flush a bright pink as if you caught him doing something illegal, and you find yourself smiling shyly back at him because obviously, you’re not here to embarrass or hurt him. 

Michael turns off the hose before it can wet you both, running a hand over his sweaty face. “You–” he collects his thoughts. “What’re ya doing here?”

You hope he didn’t mean to sound so harsh, or maybe he’s simply shy when it comes to you seeing this part of his life. You’re not sure, but you make sure to be a bit gentler from now on. 

You step forward and lift the cups in your hands like an apology. “I remembered what you told me about where you work,” you admit, “and I thought it would be nice to bring the coffee to you, for a change. You know, since you can never know how busy work gets and you– well, not to make assumptions or anything, but you seemed to quite enjoy the coffee I made you. Daily ritual type of thing, you know?”

He frowns. “So ya came here instead of waitin’?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry, did I– I mean, did I misinterpret something? Did I go too far? Is this pushing boundaries? Should I not have come? I– I’m sorry if I broke any unspoken rules. That was never my plan. I just thought… well, maybe that’s the problem. I’m so sorry, I–”

“No!” Michael responds, cutting your rambling short in the process. He can see the blush on your cheeks and the slight quiver in your voice, signaling you truly believe you did something wrong. It seems to break your heart a little, and that is the last thing he wants. 

He lifts his hand almost as if to calm you. “There are no rules and ya didn’t cross any boundaries,” he says. “I didn’t expect to see ya here, is all. I’m surprised.”

“Oh.” You hope he means it positively. “Sorry,” you say again.

“Not– not in a bad way. You… ya came here. Fer me. With coffee.”

You blush. “I did.”

He’s overwhelmed. Out of all the things he expected to happen, seeing you here was not on his list. You took the time out of your day to walk to him, and the thoughts that kept him awake at night reappear as soon as he sees your face; you’re wearing his jacket, still, and you still smell the same. 

This is a bad, bad idea, but it’s impossible to deny that he’s caught a liking to you. He couldn’t push you away the way he knows he should. If anything, his desire to keep you close at all times grows further now that you’re right in front of him, coffee in hand, and he reminds himself that you’re here for him – it’s an honor, almost, that you would consider doing this for him; it’s an honor that you care about him. A curse disguised as a blessing. The temptation is sweeter than common sense because he knows his common sense can be wrong too, and you’re exactly what he needs. He no longer has the strength to deny it, especially not to himself. 

“So stop apologizin’. It’s… sweet.”

Your blush deepens and it turns even your chest a distinctive red. “I also came to return your jacket,” you add when the silence grows awkward. You know talking too much will only make it worse, but you can’t stop yourself. You slide out of the item of clothing while trying not to disturb your drinks. “Coffee, a jacket, and some time. That’s what I can offer. If you don’t want to take it, that’s fine too, but–”

“Thank you,” he cuts you off. 

“Oh… you’re welcome? I just thought it’d be nice.”

“It’s very nice, yeah.” 

“I thought we could get to know each other more and… talk. That is unless you don’t want to, in that case, I’d apologize right away. I’m bad at reading signs sometimes. And I talk a lot. I don’t know how to shut up. I’m sorry.”

His eyes soften. He looks at you with newfound determination, and his words carry pure honesty. Michael steps forward to take the jacket from you, grabbing the coffee cup that has his name written on it in the same move. 

“I can take a few minutes off,” he says. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

Staring into his eyes, you forget your name for a second. You were bold enough to kiss him the other day, but all that confidence seems gone now. Your fingers brush him when he takes his cup, and the shockwaves that the simple contact sends through your body make you dizzy.

He smiles, but he’s just as caught up in the way he’s feeling as you are, and the confusion leads to an inner turmoil that makes it hard to sort out what exactly it is that sets his heart on fire when he sees you so clearly now, and when his hands brush yours like he dreamed it would. 

You’re wearing a dress again. It fits you perfectly. If you wanted to tease him, you should have just told him so because this is torture. 

How can one man dance around his own feelings and not acknowledge them or try to change something about them? He’s a tough nut to crack. 

You clear your throat. “I made you a Dirty Chai,” you say.

His eyebrows shoot up. “A Dirty Chai?” he asks.

“I know it sounds odd, but you know what chai tea is, right?”

“Right, yeah.”

“Do you like chai tea?”

“I’ve had one ages ago, but it was good.”

“Well, that’s a relief because while this is coffee, it’s also chai tea. It’s chai tea with espresso, milk, and some foam. Dirty Chai. Because it’s not pure–“

“The coffee makes it dirty?” he says.

You nod. “Exactly.”

“And is tha’–“ he sniffs the cup. “Cinnamon?”

“I noticed you like cinnamon.”

He wants to wipe that stupid blush off your cheeks. You look way too good, even in the dim lighting of the car wash. 

“I also drew a butterfly into the foam,” you say, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

Sarah was right, you suck at flirting, and he probably thinks you’re insane now for how fast you’re talking. You’re a barista, you’re used to remembering orders, but you memorized his likes in particular and that just feels weird to you.

Though when you look at him, you’re met with an unexpected look of pure adoration. 

Michael stammers, his cheeks flushing the same color as yours. He puts his jacket aside and lifts the lid to check on your painting – you didn’t expect him to do that. You’ve meant it as a nice gesture, but now he’s actually looking at it and he fills your heart with warmth and your tummy with butterflies. It sounds like destiny, almost. 

His lips curl into a soft smile. The butterfly is as clear as day. You have a talent for all things that have to do with coffee, and no matter what you bring to the table, he finds himself in awe of your competence every time.

“That’s almost too beautiful ta drink,” he mutters to himself.

You look away. 

“Thank you,” Michael still has his eyes on you, “that’s lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” you say.

He puts the lid back on. “Would ya like to walk with me?” 

You smile, nodding along. “I’d like that very much.”

He guides you out of the slippery car wash back onto the street. You walk in silence as you sip your drinks, the sun shining down on you with only the softest touch of heat while the wind continues to rustle the leaves in the trees.

The awkwardness was to be expected. Neither of you has found the guts to mention the kiss, and now that you’re taking a stroll through the streets of a part of Dublin you’ve barely been to, you’re not sure if there is even a right time for you to say what you want to say – you’re not even sure what you are capable of saying any more.

Michael’s shoulder brushes yours and you shiver. He’s so close, your heart beats faster at his proximity. He wears the same cologne that is etched into his jacket, but he also smells like the soap he uses to wash the cars.

“So, yer a writer then?” 

It surprises both of you that he’s the first to break the silence.  

There’s a difference between pretending to be interested just to make conversation and being interested in what the other person has to say, and with Michael, it’s clear that it’s the latter. When he looks at you, his eyes always meet yours and he makes sure to tilt his ear in your direction so he can hear what you’re saying. He’s attentive. He cares. He doesn’t expect people to care about him, but he pays attention to everyone else and he shows when he’s interested, even if it’s not intentional. It makes you feel more comfortable talking about something that has often filled you with dread.

“Yes,” you say. “That’s right.”

“What do ya write?”

“Well, I tried my hand at a few things, but what I got stuck on the most were period pieces.”

“In the style of Jane Austen, ya mean?”

Your eyes light up. “That’s exactly it!”

“I figured,” he smiles. “I read sometimes and ya strike me as the kind of person who would would get inspired by Jane.”

He reads. It’s a small detail, a small piece of information that you will cherish forever because he opened another door in his heart to reveal it to you. 

“Ya must be good then,” he continues, “if ya write stories set earlier in history, I mean. Not everyone can do tha’.” 

You smile. “I have this, uh, old book collection at home,” you say, opening another window to your own heart. “It’s the first time I fell in love with a story from the past. Not just because it’s a classic, but because it drew me in. I wouldn’t consider myself a history buff, but there is something enchanting about stories told during that time that make me want to do the same.”

He hangs onto every word your say. He’s not much of a talker but he’s a good listener. He probably learned to be quiet in the past because maybe he was forced to, and now he sees the world, but he doesn’t say much about it. He only listens. 

Your pinky finger brushes his as you walk a little closer to him. “Jane Austen’s stories have such a sad beauty. I love modern romance as much as the next person, but there is something about classic literature that makes me want to convey the same vibe and reimagine past times. And perhaps romanticize them,” you say. “Because life sucks sometimes and people need to romanticize every aspect of it, even if it’s just the past, you know?”

His focus remains entirely on you. He hums, telling you he understands, before forming a gentle smile. “Have ya ever thought about publishin’?” he asks.

“Thought about it, yes. But I’ve never even finished a book. I don’t have an agent or a publisher on the line ‘cause I haven’t come far enough yet. It’s the reason I work at the café now. A desk job wasn’t for me, but I can’t seem to find my footing when it comes to writing because I don’t know how to finish something I’ve started. It’s kind of an exhausting feeling, I have to admit.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmurs, “I know what that feels like.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that. I used to let it tear me down, but with this job, I don’t see a reason why I should anymore. So I tried being more optimistic.”

“No, I get it. I can see tha’. Ya don’t strike me as a pessimist.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are ya apologizing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t. Not fer somethin’ like this.”

He stops and you halt your step, too. You find yourself right in front of him. His breath fans across your skin. He’s being nice to you today. Not that he’s ever been not nice, but it feels different today.

“I’m Michael–“ his hand stops halfway, hovering just above your cheek, “Kinsella,” he says. 

He looks at you as if that’s supposed to ring a bell, but other than that it sounds familiar, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to react. 

Your smile reappears fully; now you know who he is. At least his name. But your souls feel connected enough already to say that you know his essence, who he is inside, and not a single story from his past could ruin that. You see the person he is, nothing else matters. If only he could accept that. 

“Okay,” you say, and you tell him your full name in return. He deserves to know.

He smiles almost sadly. “I hate washing cars,” he admits.

“I figured,” you say.

Between the two of you, there is a lot you have managed to just figure. There is a silent understanding that exceeds knowing all the details about the other’s life. You’re prone to romanticizing, but with Michael, there is a raw realness to it that has nothing to do with pathetically wishing things to be good. You’re good for each other. That’s the truth, and it’s the truth you should focus on.

And Michael Kinsella seems like an honest enough man to you that you feel like giving up would be the wrong choice, no matter how hard he is to get around.

“I was away for eight years.” He’s opening up without saying much, but it’s the truth nonetheless. “And then I came back and everythin’… changed. The place yer working at, the Butterfly Effect, I didn’t even know it was there until I found it. I used to frequent Mister and Mrs. Dunham’s coffee shop tha’ was there before ya, but that was eight years ago and there’s so much shit I don’t recognize. It’s like the air has been poisoned.”

With a confused frown, you ask, “What do you mean?”

His nostrils flare. He takes a deep breath. “Yer not like that,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Yer a breath of fresh air. I, uh, appreciate that. I think.” 

You tilt your head. “Oh,” you breathe softly. Your palm meets his shoulder. “Well, you shouldn’t be breathing poisoned air, so I’m glad I’m not that.”

He glances at your hand. 

The next question burns on your tongue. “Why were you away for so long?” you ask him then. 

He stiffens under your touch and his eyes grow weary, almost vacant. You hit a nerve. Michael almost recoils. He knows you might, too, once you get to know who he truly is, and that’s what has him in a chokehold, and the fear makes it impossible for him to talk. 

“Most of the time, people don’t just go away for eight years without a reason.”

You’re too curious for your own good.

“Wasn’t voluntary,” he says. 

“What do you mean?”

“What I said.”

“Why is it–“ you kill the space between you and press yourself flush against him, “–that every time I think I’ve seen a glimpse of who Michael Kinsella really is, I still don’t seem to get you?”

“Because it’s dangerous out there, love.” This is the first time he’s called you that. “Honesty turns into a weapon that gets people hurt.”

“People you care about?”

“Yes.”

“And you care about me?”

Weakly, he nods again. 

“Are you scared?”

“You’ve no idea.”

His vulnerable admission makes you reach for his cheek and cradle his face in your hand. He drops breathing. “You know, I am driven by this desperate need to get to know you,” you admit. The hairs on his face feel soft under your fingertips. 

Michael closes his eyes. “Not a good idea,” he says. 

He wants to tell you everything. You’re the kind of person who doesn’t have a single bone of judgment in her body and that’s dangerous. It could get you into a lot of trouble, and the thought of losing you is something he can’t bear.

You shrug. “I know, but there’s something about you…” 

“What’s tha’?”

“I’m not sure, I just get the feeling that deep down, you just need someone to take care of you,” you say. Your hand still rests on his cheek and he nuzzles into your gentle touch. “That you want to be happy and leave your past behind, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You’re tumbling dangerously close to an edge Michael might not be able to pull you away from, but you’re so close, he can’t push you away. You draw him in. And your words have never been more true. He wonders if he’s really such an open book, even if it’s just to you because you read him better than he understands himself. 

“And talking about it to people helps, you know? Sometimes, you just have to let someone else in or you’ll never find true happiness.”

When have you become so wise? You often don’t take your advice, but it seems like the people around him don’t usually try to pull him out of the dark hole he’s in but rather force him to live with it, to be silent, to be shy, and that feels wrong to you. No one should ever have to feel this way, not even when they claim it’s their life.

Which Michael does, a lot.

“There’s things ya can’t understand,” he says. 

“You’d be surprised at just how much I’m capable of understanding.”

“God, why do ya have to be so insufferable?”

“I don’t know,” you retort, “why do you?”  

His chest heaves with a sigh. “We should go.”

As he turns to leave, you grab his hand and haul him back. “I don’t mind not knowing everything,” you try again, “but it would make things a lot easier.”

“I told you my name,” he says.

“I know.”

It’s just a name. 

He shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”

“What?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Yer way too nice to a man like me,” his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks. Michael’s face has fallen and his eyes glaze over with a sad darkness. The world is on his shoulders and he is slacking under the weight. 

You want nothing more than to hold him. Your hands brush his shoulders again. He doesn’t flinch away, he stays. 

“I just care, there’s nothing more to it,” you say. 

He can’t put his feelings into words. The fact that you care fills him with a sense of being loved that he is not quite used to feeling. You’ve lit a fire in him. It won’t die. But the voices in his head often have a different plan.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Michael. You’re not alone.”

And then your arms wrap around him and you pull him close. He’s hesitant at first, the feeling overwhelming, but then his instincts kick in and he hugs you back. His head lands in the crook of your neck, clinging to you like you’re his lifeline, and you make sure to tighten your hold so he knows he’s safe in your arms – because he is. You’re a terrible fighter, but you can keep his heart safe. You can protect his soul the way he deserves. That, you can do. 

This is different from the first time you hugged him. You were thankful back then. When you hug him this time, it’s more emotional, it’s intimate, and you get lost in each other’s arms for what feels like an eternity. 

He pulls away with a heavy sigh. You look at him. “Are you okay?” you ask. 

Michael can only nod. 

Your hands move from his shoulders to his face again. You cradle his cheeks, and for a moment you’re scared of breaking him. He looks so fragile, his skin reminding you of the thinnest glass that might break if handled incorrectly. 

He holds eye contact with you. Your eyes switch between his lips and the brown of his irises that look a lot more green in the sun, then back to his lips. You lean forward. This isn’t you; something deep inside of you is controlling you, compelling you to kiss him, and you’re too weak to fight the urge. 

Your lips finally find his again and all the lights in your brain go out. They short-circuit. 

His grabby hands find your waist, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You’re not the only one who is eager today, but you’re too lost in the feeling of his soft, plump lips moving against yours in a fight for dominance to even care or pay attention to much more. He no longer wants you to take the lead; Michael presses his lips and body against yours with a force that catches you by surprise, and he catches you with his arms that function as a safety net. 

You feel so alive. He holds the back of your neck with one hand while the other travels across your back and then high enough to brush the seam just below your breasts, and you gasp. You’re in public, but he’s relentless, and you’re forced to take what he gives you. 

His hands are everywhere. It’s like he wants to memorize every inch of your skin, to brand you into his brain. Calloused fingers caress your bare thigh and your arms, his lips never wavering in their intensity or how skillfully they move against yours in a rhythm you both seem to know without ever having heard about it. 

By the time you pull away to breathe, your lips are swollen, your pupils are blown wide and you’re sure his hands on your hips left their mark from how hard he was gripping the flesh. 

You have to find your footing again. The distinctive haze that has found its way over the wasteland of your thoughts clouds everything in its path. It makes your knees go weak and your vision turns into a fog. His eyes are the only thing that manages to shine through. 

Michael touches his lips almost as if he can’t believe it happened again. You never turn down a challenge. He’s convinced now that you want him and he wants you, but other than the physical aspect, he is scared of what it might mean, of what it might do to you, and how much more he can screw up in such a short amount of time, and he stands there like a statue, his thoughts turning into a destructive tornado that makes rational decisions impossible to make. 

Your lips are as soft as he remembers them. Your hands in his hair felt like heaven. He got to touch your skin this time, and whatever he imagined this morning didn’t come close enough to what you truly feel like. 

You run a nervous hand through your hair. “I, um—“ you lick your lips. “My lunch break is almost over,�� you manage to say. 

He slides his hands into his pockets. “Yeah,” he says, “Mine too.” Except Amanda might kill him because he doesn’t have an official lunch break. 

“Did you like it?”

You’re such an idiot.

He blinks, flabbergasted. “What?”

“The chai! I meant the chai. Did you like it?”

“Oh! Yeah. I mean… yeah, it was grand. Thanks.”

“Good.” You adjust the straps of your bag. “That’s good,” you say. Your cheeks are redder than a rose at this point. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods. “Me too.”

“I liked it too. The chai. Dirty Chai. It’s a real success. People like it. But I also like other things, you know? It doesn’t have to be dirty. It can be dirty because dirty is better, but– well, I– about today, I mean, I–“ 

You should stop talking. 

A silent curse slips your lips. “I have to go back to work,” you say. That’s not what you were trying to say, but it saves you the embarrassment. 

Michael raises his hand, but the ‘Wait,’ that’s forming on his lips and the question for your number gets lost in translation. “Okay,” he says instead. 

You expected more from him, but it’s clear that there won’t be coming much else from him soon. 

“Okay,” you repeat. “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“Yeah, you too.” 

“Thanks.”

He watches you leave with your head hung low and your steps a little faster than they were before. It doesn’t take long for you to disappear around the corner, leaving him standing there, pondering what could have been or should have been and what an idiot he had been. 

He should have just asked for your number. He should have come out of his shell because it’s the same you have been doing for him consistently the past few days. You deserve someone who can take a step toward you, not someone who chickens out at the last second. You deserve someone better than him. 

Michael crosses the street with a heavy heart. He shouldn’t have let you go. He returns to work with twice as many thoughts, and every time he closes his eyes, he can see your face clearly now. You haunt him in the best ways possible, but he suddenly finds himself scared of ghosts. 

He’s not sure how much longer he can withstand the storm inside of him, but you deserve better than what he can give you, and that’s the kind of self-loathing he will continue to carry with him until he sees you again because he knows that when he does, he will only fail again. 

Next door, unbeknownst to him, Amanda has been watching him through the window behind the cars. She saw him leave with you and the kiss unfolded right in front of her eyes like a bad movie. She doesn’t remember seeing your face anywhere before, and Michael hardly ever talks about his personal life, but you seem different. You seem normal. Someone who wears butterfly clips in their hair is not cut out for the kind of life he stems from, and Amanda grows suspicious. 

A few seconds later, the line clicks. “It’s me,” she says, her eyes fixated on the now empty spot outside where you once stood. “Listen, I just saw somethin’ and I think… I think ya need to talk with your brother before he makes a mistake.” 

Unbeknownst to Michael, a storm bigger than the one inside of his is brewing outside, and it comes in the shape of none other than his own family trying to take away the only sliver of hope he’s had since prison – and he is not prepared for that. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella