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dingustripas · 1 year

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I just wanted to take a moment to point out the differences in Aziraphale's and Crowley's outfit vs the rest of the angels/demons outfits

Azi is always dressed in white to contrast Crowley's black, thats obvious, it's evil and good. But here's what I wanted to point out. Both Crowley and Azi don't fit into either of the demons/angel's "aesthetics". Crowley, for a demon, is very put together and organized. With Beelzebub, Hastur and Ligur we can see the scrappy apperance they take on in the show. Beelzebub is covered in flies and has torn clothing, Hastur constantly looks sweaty and as if he just woke up from in the mud, and Ligur is just plain scary. Crowley, on the other hand is well dressed.

He wears a clean neat blazer and clean vests/jeans. Trough the series he's also always seen taking really good care of his hair, putting it up, when it's down it looked brushed, when he cut it, it was always styled semi-neatly. And even though he doesn't value human objects as much as Azi does, (like Crowley's fifty sunglasses compared to Azi's one very old coat) Crowley still has his own vices. Unlike the other demons, Crowley, as much as it doesn't seem, he values his plants and perfection. This isn't a common value in demons, perfection, tidyness, Crowley's very presentable appearance. Even though readers/viewers semi-knew that Crowley and Azi were the odd ones out from their respective teams, their looks alone call that out.

Going back to the sunglasses, a lot of the demons wear their respective animals on their shoulders or blend it in to their general appearance. We know Crowley is a snake but he actively uses sunglasses to hide that part of him, as if he’s ashamed (we can also assume he’s ashamed of it bc he did so much as fall just hung around the wrong crowd). I think the sunglasses are also a way for Crowley to pretend to be something he is not, to hide himself. We can assume this because when he’s with Azi he rarely wears the sunglasses after they’ve become friends, this is even more prominent when Azi “dies” and Crowley isn’t wearing sunglasses at all. His sunglasses hide his vulnerability and his care for both humans and his angel.

Now on to Azi. During the large amount of Azi's screen time, he is in his human form. We see him in his semi-otherworldly/angelic form when he gets "killed" once in the whole show. What I want to point out in specific is that each angel has a different outfit for earth and for heaven. Gabriel, each time he pops up on earth he has a ever so slightly different outfit than his angelic version (the tracksuit, the scarf suit, the turtleneck). Azi on the other hand wears the same thing pretty much all the time. He has no REAL big change of outfit between heaven and earth, the only time he does have a change in outfit is when he gets discorporated. This is the first real thing that places him a part from the other angels.

Now Azi is also known, by Gabriel and a lot of the other Angel's, to indulge in human things (like the sushi, the coat, the bookshop etc.). These are things that we can assume aren't valued by Angel's (when Gabriel made the comment about the Suhsi or mistreated Azi's books). For the rest of the angel's the things that Azi indulges in are irrelevant and are "material objects". So right off the bat both Crowley and Azi have very different values and are just plainly visually the opposite of their higher up's.

Let's break this picture down a bit. All the angel's are wearing suits, thats obvious. But here's what set's Azi visually a part and what the director wants us as the viewers/readers to comprehend about the characters without watching/reading the whole story. Azi always puts his hands behind his back when he's talking to someone from the higher up's compared to the hands in front that the other angels have. Putting your hands behind your back is known to be a symbol of confidence and superiority, Angel is challenging Gabirel and the demons. Azi uses the tactic of putting his hands behind his back to almost flaunt his human indulges. Azi doesn't button his suit as a sign of rebelion, he's showing off the older vest, the golden, his stomach. All things that connect him to the human realm, all things that Angels don't care about.

One more thing that visually put's Angels outfit a part from the other Angel's is the color. All the Angels have grey tones or brown tones, most of the tones themself are closer to a cool-off white, whereas Azi wears a very white suit layered with yellow cool-tones. Yellow is the color commonly associated with god or etheral beings, so even though Azi is directly challenging Gabriel and the other angel's with his choice of outfit, he's also still conecting himself with the almighty. Still showing that he is an angel, that he still has respect for the almighty and, this might be a long shot but that Azi does what he does in the name of the almighty's values itself.

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ineffableigh · 7 months

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Timeline of Suspicious Events Brain Dump - PART 3

You know the drill at this point. Off we goooo! [Part 1][Part 2]

"Maggie and Nina are depending on me!" Azi's really drunk his own Kool-aid at this point, or he's putting on a complicated show to pretend this is a serious endeavor. Giving away a valuable book just to trick Heaven? Something's really not adding up.

Another weird noise for the logs: A bassy 'whoosh/boom' noise right after Mutt says he has anniversary dinner with his beloved spouse and the camera pans to Crowley. Not sure it means anything, but it did stand out to me lol.

Something that stands out to me a lot as well, assuming it was done deliberately (I don't know the actor) - Mutt seems to be having an awfully hard time handling the cards he's currently sorting. Like, after he says 'no' at first, I cannot figure out what he's trying to do with his right hand.

Also of note: The mysterious Bird Box is nowhere to be seen in the shop, even though MANY of the set items are identical to the 1941 scene. Where that bird at??

"Under no circumstances can I there be for tonight." ... what? This has to be on purpose, right? I'm digging, I know, but that's what we do here lol.

Big sad empty warehouse for the Demon Legions. Why on earth (or in Hell) is Hell so short staffed? Where them demons at?

DANGER...osity!

"I can only be there 'til 7" so that's a half hour window for the meeting, at least for Justine. Fair, she can only handle so much of Azi's painful French lol.

The metal barrier just outside the cafe is... awfully snake-y isn't it?

"Looking where the furniture isn't..." is definitely going to be VERY important. Crowley absolutely knows something about losing AND regaining memories and it's been telegraphed all season.

Michael has eye earrings! This feels like a huge tie-in with Maggie's all seeing eye necklace.

Skimming through the rest since I've gone through it multiple times through other posts, but quick takeaways include...

Ms Cheng looking at the Pub before she goes in. Suspicious given we know that's the Hellevator, but have no reason to believe she'd be looking for someone else coming from that direction as the cafe AND record store are the other way.

Mr Brown has to be suspicious because we HEAR him getting mulched by demons when he's taken, but he survives? WEIRD.

Maggie's main character moment as I mentioned in my 'Thoughts about Maggie' post.

Azi seems very genuine when explaining the Coffee Shop Love Plot to Nina, so maybe he really did believe he was helping. I don't get why they steamrolled past her already having a partner, both the lads knew it. It's weird for that much.

Maggie blankly standing by the open window in range of trash is weird, especially since she like Activates and Becomes Brave right after.

I do wonder... how does Shax know Maggie couldn't pay the rent? That seems awfully specific. Like REALLY specific.

Throne, Dominion or Higher Crowley - what a way to drop that info! That moment hits so hard lol.

"Institutional Problem" I wonder if we'll learn more about The Fall next season. What was it that actually triggered it (in this universe)?

I love that the archangels clearly interact with each other SO LITTLE that no one even knows if Gabriel actually has his own bloody desk lol. Talk about isolation.

Huh. I wonder why Shax didn't get discorporated by the Exploding Halo...

You know who else is wearing a damn turtleneck? SARAQUAEL. OOH. COVERT AGENT? HMMMM

No one looked at the damn box, I still can't believe it. Everyone was so busy Being In A Story that they didn't think of it lol.

Analysis of the last chunk of the episode has been done to death, so I'll finish by underlining that it's SO awfully convenient that Maggie INSISTED that she and Nina talk to "them" while Aziraphale was waylaid by the Metatron.

In fact, it's Very Fortunate that the Metatron made a point of going and sitting at JUSTINE'S CAFE out of sight of the bookshop AND Nina's Cafe. Otherwise Nina might have been like hey you, get in on this chat! Like he knew that was the plan...

Plus the fact that they do that even though Justine's cafe is clearly CLOSED. I doubt she'd be chill with that so I guess she's not around.

Anyway that's enough so here's the TLDR:

The Metatron pretty much just LETS Gabriel escape, knowing that the Archangels will go down and muddle about trying to investigate.

We still don't know why Michael thought they had the right to strike people from the Book of Life. The Metatron seems to think that's out of the question, so where did that idea come from in the first place? It was a major driver of the early plot this season.

It seems convenient that Maggie cried about Nina RIGHT before the Angels arrived to inspect the Jimbriel miracle, and then RIGHT AFTER THAT, Mr Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets) shows up to set up the venue. That alone, all happening in the span of maybe 15 minutes, is a LOT.

It really feels like much of the plot was specifically orchestrated to keep Aziraphale and Crowley apart and NOT TALKING to each other. They keep hiding shit from each other to protect each other, but just hamstring themselves.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands

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and-his-hands-were-24-crows · 6 months

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I've gone off several times at this point about how Crowley keeps wearing a vest on top of layers that really aren't complimented by vests. Turtleneck? Vest. Grey t-shirt? Vest. Henley? Vest. Do I love it? Of course I do. Is it awful? Also yes.

And then this morning I thought, in a post-wakeup, pre-coffee, mid-pushup haze, what if he's doing this to mock match Aziraphale. Maybe it's a weird little, "Oh, you're going to wear the same waistcoat for a couple hundred years? Cool. I can do that too."

I mean, I'm pretty sure we only see him without it in instances where there's little to no chance of them seeing each other (watching the bookshop, watering his plants, infiltrating Heaven like a flamboyant murder hornet)...

#good omens #crowley #anthony j crowley #he's either very good or very bad at outfits #sometimes simultaneously #men's fashion has about three rules - all of which Crowley probably invented and then broke while making direct eye contact with them #I'm really not being serious at ALL with this #text post

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beans-in-your-socks · 7 months

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Not Nice Days

le gasp! 2 updates in 1 day! you lucky ducks! (my sleep schedule, not so lucky, however)

read now on ao3

bit of a shorter chapter this one , but chapter 4 is going to be particularly long soooooo

anyways, here ya go!

| Chapter 3 | A Demon's Revelation |

Nothing had changed. Everything was the same. Same old books. Same old furniture. Same old bookshop. Muriel, thankfully, hadn't sold any books and had kept the layout of the shop unaltered. This comforted Crowley. The poignancy of the bookshop overwhelmed him, a wave of nostalgia and memories flooding his senses until it hurt. It always seemed to hurt nowadays. No matter how hard he tried to be optimistic, nothing could shake the feeling of worthlessness that followed Crowley around like an unwelcome raincloud. He missed the days when the memories with his angel would fill him with contentment and ease. He basked in it all for a moment. The same old book smell, the same sunshine filtering through the French windows, the same cinnamon taste to the air.

The only thing that was no longer the same, was the people.

No more shared wine between an angel and a demon. This time, it was only the demon who sat on the chaise longue at the back of the shop, gulping down an entire bottle of Merlot.

“Why’d *hic* you have to leave me *hic* angel?” he slurred, taking another swig of the wine. He stumbled off the longue pouring the last droplet of alcohol into his mouth in a quite melodramatic movement, before tossing the bottle to the floor. He grabbed another bottle (some sort of cabernet this time) from the cabinet. Crowley had always loved the !pop! That wine bottles made when you unscrewed the cork. For this reason, Aziraphale had always made sure to only buy corked wine bottles. Crowley laughed a sad laugh as the cork flew off. Being in the bookshop made both his head and heart throb, but it was worth it. Everything was worth it for Aziraphale.

The demon staggered towards Aziraphale’s desk, taking a swig from the new bottle. he slumped in the large cozy armchair, slamming the bottle on the desk. He knew better than to go through Aziraphales things, but… it was the closest he could get to the angel. There were papers and books littered all over the desktop, in seemingly no particular order, but Aziraphale had a system for everything. It may not have made sense to anyone else, even Crowley, but it made sense to Aziraphale. Amongst all the newspaper clippings, records and old empty inkwells, the thing that stuck out to Crowley the most was what appeared to be a black and white polaroid, although it was much older. He carefully lifted the photograph into the light. Pictured were The Marvelous Mr Fell and his equally marvellous assistant.

“After all these decades… he kept it.” Crowley breathed, in utter shock. He didn't usually like to get sentimental, but the wine was certainly doing a number on him. Then a wave of realisation hit Crowley like a stack of bricks.

Aziraphale really had left behind… everything. Not just Crowley, he hadn't even bothered to take any of his books or records or photos or… anything.

“Did all of this mean *hic* nothing to you?” he wondered out loud. He held the photo closer to his chest, trying to sense his angel through the glossy paper. It was as if he could feel his angel’s warm presence surrounding him, except… it was shrouded with… fear.

Wait.

What?

He quickly spun around to discover two angels standing in the doorway of the bookshop. One he recognised immediately as Muriel but the other… it took a minute to register in Crowley’s brain who it was he was seeing. He was a tall figure, but not as tall as Crowley. He had a tired sort of air to him and overgrown curls as frosty as Heaven’s pearly gates themselves. He was wearing a light brown turtleneck and a cloudy grey blazer, with matching trousers and beige tartan socks. Wait… tartan socks?!

Crowley whipped off his sunglasses, utterly dumbfounded

It couldn't be, could it?

“A- Aziraphale?”

#vee writes good omens #vee writes #vee write fanfiction #good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens 3 #aziraphale #queer #ineffable idiots #crowley #ineffable spouses #fanfic #not nice days #my fic #chapter 3 #fanfiction

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sonkitty · 2 months

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Earthly Objects - Part 3

Continued from Earthly Objects Part 2.

This post was last updated 02/18/2024.

Rule Breaking and High Tier Play - The Final Fifteen

The rules of standard play and high tier play are contradictory, but I'm still going to say "rule-breaking" because I think it is important and fair in full context of what happens. There are touches, but things are still considerably different due to what is touched when. There is definitely a lack of touching on the number of earthly objects in the bookshop itself and even the street later.

Of the touches that do happen in the bookshop and street later, the kiss excluded, most of those are actually Crowley following the rules on the hidden higher tier of play on thresholds for his Threshold Tricks. You should read that link if you want to know more about what the tricks actually are.

The two main characters are the main ones breaking the rules though the Metatron is at least partially doing so as well, or making mistakes. His play is completely off compared to everyone. Other characters will be shown, and they will be shown as still following the rules even though they have no further dialogue.

The rule-breaking seems to start when the Metatron looks toward the bookshop after talking to Muriel. If he's looking through a window, the story has decided we don't need a complex window scene then or during the entire conversation in the bookshop.

The first touch is a threshold-only one with Crowley removing his sunglasses. That is actually the next-to-last touch for The Sunglasses Trick. It is the first of three Threshold Tricks that will complete by the end of the episode, after he completed two others before this latter half of episode 6.

The nature of the touch is still notably different from the rest of the story and worth pointing out.

Threshold-only touches on the sunglasses have a general format that isn't like what is happening here. The sunglasses are usually detached from Crowley onto an earthly object if he removes them. If he does keep holding them or is not seen putting them on an earthly object, there are three preceding instances of a subtle demonic hiss to indicate he is using them as a demon addressing an angel, two of which happened in the present day with Gabriel.

Here, Crowley holds his sunglasses and will keep holding them until he puts them back on. There will be no demonic hiss. They are his door, and he is holding his door. They are emphatically not an earthly object or touching an earthly object by extension during his entire conversation with Aziraphale.

Both characters touch their clothes nervously but not in ways the rules seem to allow, such as how they manage their pockets.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale say hello or acknowledge that Aziraphale is back. Crowley skips straight ahead to having something to say that doesn't have the usual format. There is no name, no question, and so on. He even acknowledges they should be "talking about" and cuts himself off.

Aziraphale interrupts him, does include a question, but then actually answers it himself.

Most questions are given more care in allowing the other character a chance to respond.

Still, nothing they weren't already wearing is touched.

Soon after the usual initiating set of rules are broken, the cohesion of the story's narrative is broken. The present day has intentionally been moving the audience between one scene and the next to suggest events are following a given implied chronology and timeline of a few days. Gabriel arrived on Monday. Crowley looked exceptionally hot in a black turtleneck on Tuesday. Aziraphale went to Edinburgh on Wednesday. The ball was prepared for and happened on Thursday. They are currently experiencing things on this Friday.

We've had flashbacks since the start leading closer and closer to the present day, but not a single one of those flashbacks started in this manner of a present day narration to start the flashback. They've been memories playing out between the present day events. The other present day events have been mentioned in dialogue, not narrated. We go to a very recent scene that supposedly happened without us seeing it. Then Aziraphale chops it even more. "And I said, 'Me'? And then he said..." What kind of cut is that?! Broken I tell you. It's broken. Not with exact wording. I'm just pointing out the standard cohesion of the narrative before this point is emphatically broken here—maybe even on purpose. Even setting aside this game idea, we as the audience, are supposed to notice how jarring it is. It gives a heavy implication that Aziraphale is lying.

Aziraphale himself was engaging in some of self-touching before the flashback itself, then seemed to stop after the first segment of the flashback finished.

I cannot explain the non-verbal code and reactions. I have my own personal theories, but they aren't strong enough for me to want to publish within this post. So, I will move onto the parts I am willing to share.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale know—they both know— on some layered level that whatever they are going to experience here and now between each other, certain things can be touched and many things must not be touched. They might not understand their words between each other, but they do understand the earthly object not-touching.

I question a lot of the dialogue throughout the scene, but it's too much for me and not really the focus with the touching and lacking touching.

Before the kiss happens, there is another threshold-only touch. Crowley puts his sunglasses back on. He touches those edges of the end pieces, two fingers in front and back of each end piece with each hand. He is being protective of his door to the point he touched the thresholds of his own thresholds for his own threshold.

Additionally, this touch closes out The Sunglasses Trick, that started as far back as episode 1. That is the first of his three Threshold Tricks for this part of the end of the season. He started with opening both doors. Now he is closing both doors.

More dialogue is exchanged with no earthly object touches in between.

Finally, the kiss happens. By all appearances, it is an impulsive choice. Yet, that choice resembles a set if clothing touches were acceptable. Crowley grabs the lapels of Aziraphale's coat. That's touch #1. They kiss, and the kiss is reciprocated. That's touch #2. Aziraphale's hand touches Crowley's back with four fingers visible. There was also extra stuff that happened with thumbs before those fingers did what they did. That's touch #3. Aziraphale's nose might even be touching Crowley's sunglasses, but those things are a guarded door (so far as I'm concerned).

I don't know if this part is pocket preparation for The Door Trick and The Door Catch that come later; I'm just going to tell you that other parts of other Tricks did such things without this level of drama, and clothing touches were involved.

Regardless, the pair make a connection with the kiss. This game is almost like a language they understand between each other. For me, the kiss is more about their love than rule-following or rule-breaking.

To remind themselves and/or us that rule-breaking is happening here, the scene immediately continues with an implied quick glance to the window by Aziraphale and continued rule-breaking in the dialogue ("I forgive you.";"Don't bother"). No further words are exchanged. Crowley leaves with a heavy implication of touching the door, yet the doorknob is ever so carefully obscured from view as the sound effects inform us he left. Still, nothing they weren't already wearing or part of their own bodies was touched.

For some reason, Aziraphale does a self-touch with his fingers to his lips here. He was avoiding doing self-touches before. He is going to avoid doing self-touches after. I don't know what part of this mix of rule-breaking and high tier play session is letting him do that.

More happens. The Metatron returns, visibly using a doorknob, so there's an earthly object touch by him. However, everything's still a little off. Aziraphale happens to move his feet in specific ways around a small rug until there is a step backwards from it to the floor. He walks backwards onto a big rug, then does not move forward until the camera is no longer watching his feet.

The Metatron takes one hand out of a pocket to gesture toward a window, and the camera never shows when the hand goes back in. Muriel is shown through the window following rules, and while Aziraphale looks, the layout allows that he is not visibly behind the window pane where Muriel was either before or after the look. Before he leaves, he takes one last look that I think is toward the car, where Crowley might be ready.

Aziraphale manages to keep not touching earthly objects, mainly focus on his dialogue, make sure his feet move when they should move, and his arms and hands don't do too much. The Metatron isn't visibly touching or holding any earthly objects either. Both of them leave the bookshop without the camera actually showing the exit through the doors.

Crowley is shown standing at the door to his car, having positioned himself for his incoming Door Trick.

Aziraphale and the Metatron talk some more. Aziraphale is conceivably at a layered understanding of getting ready for The Door Catch because he is effectively stalling things for the Rainbow Connection in the Pocket Chain that is linked to him during this time. Then there is a miracle sound and a notable reaction from Aziraphale. He chances a look over toward Crowley. I refer to this cut as Ground Zero for The Door Catch. It does not truly start until Aziraphale's shoes are seen on the ground.

When Crowley is shown in the third of three camera shots leading to that moment, he has completed The Door Trick. That is the second of his three tricks to finish in the episode.

Aziraphale officially starts The Door Catch. I do believe the story intended to communicate that name due to how pocket touches work. They involve word play. The story had an extensive memory on The Bullet Catch in episode 4, so put the ideas together, and there you go.

Inside the elevator, there is one zoomed in touch of presumably the Metatron's finger on the button that could be the story meaning it is an earthly object touch. It's hard to trust with all the known deception in the story itself and how the touch doesn't happen with both his face and body on camera as is usually done with a doorknob for other characters. Such a thing was even shown earlier at the bookshop. Even if perfectly valid, the touch stands out. What is he, human? After studying pocket touches, which have a heavy human presence, I grow all the more suspicious he could be.

It turns out there is, indeed, something more to that touch than even such speculation above. The Metatron is making a mistake in the Rainbow Connection. By doing the touch the way he does, he is disqualifying the gold of the H button to being considered Yellow, trapping it, and then allowing Green to be maintained.

The Metatron was not shown crossing the threshold of entering the elevator, but Aziraphale is. The doors are not shown to close, but the implication from the music and sound effects is that they did. Aziraphale has successfully managed to still not touch any earthly objects himself. When Aziraphale entered, he was framed in a specific way all-around that is related to pocket touch mechanics. I at least know what to look for, and I can tell you that his right arm was lined up with the Metatron's in a way that is significant because there is a vertex illusionary touch between them. There are open pockets along the bottom. The Metatron's reflection is caught in a window pane with the back of Aziraphale's head. Chances are, that's part of the "catch" in The Door Catch.

A little past that part being done, Crowley does The Window Trick. That is his third and final trick of the three of this latter half of episode 6. It is also the last one overall.

Three Threshold Tricks for this part of the episode makes sense because of how much this game likes the number 3.

Muriel enters the bookshop. Crowley trusts them to look after it and leaves.

Once Crowley has those short sideburns again, something resembling earthly object touches starts. His blurred hand is shown gripping the steering wheel. Then the camera and frame he's in decide to hide it. Texture fades in over where he might be touching the passenger seat. A tiny bit of the driver's seat behind him is partly shown. The camera, lighting, and credits keep messing with the view.

Aziraphale just keeps standing and eventually smiles in a way that's not really encouraging, for me, when I'm sympathizing with Crowley. Admittedly, I do think he was supposed to be successful at The Door Catch. I also believe Crowley has a strategy in motion, especially after examining his overall threshold manipulation during the story.

Whew.

Okay, time to move on.

Let's wrap up with some notes and a list. There is a bonus at the end saved for posterity. That was me starting to grasp at the first Multiplicative Threshold Trick.

Some Notes:

Skin contact is significant, both on earthly objects and on a threshold itself. It seems to have more power from Crowley when he has longest-length sideburns. In particular, I'm referring to three memory access points with Gabriel and The Door Trick. In the door trick, the skin contact touch is the one given a Triple with a Triple multiplier.

Gabriel has some skin contact in at least one of those same memory access points. Otherwise, I haven't figured out much besides Shax's notable avoidance in the present day storyline.

Rules are broken, and the season 2 story continues...until they're broken with great deliberation by two experts...who might be each on their way to Heaven and Hell respectively.

The one with the imagery of the Hell threshold has plants behind him, so some of Earth is still there. They were the Green maintained at the end of the Rainbow Connection.

Earthly Objects List

This list includes objects that may have had implied touches instead of actual touches because checking who touched what when, then realizing it's blurry or just presumed, is exhausting when I just want a list. I'm not going to specify every different type of paper that might have been touched...but you know...paper was touched.

Barrel

Bell

Bench

Blanket

Candle

Car seat

Cardboard box

Cards

Cart

Chair

Clipboard

Clothing

Counter

Cup

Feather duster

Hat

Human

Goat

Keys

Magnifying glass

Mail

Mirror

Newspaper

Paper

Pencil

Phone

Piano

Plastic bag

Plastic container

Plate

Rag

Record

Rock

Rug

Scroll

Steering wheel

Table

Towel

Wheelchair

Window

Wine bottle

Wooden box

Bonus Round: Me Bragging on Crowley

The below is saved for posterity because I had so much fun with it. I am quite convinced that this part was the first Threshold Trick and almost a tutorial because the others don't come, or at least finish, until much later and are far more difficult to recognize.

Look, I obsess over David Tennant being Crowley because he is so beautifully perfect for the role, so I am definitely super biased in everything here.

Allow me to attempt demonstrating to you how mind-blowing Crowley is at this game. We're not going to know if what I think happened, really happened, because I don't understand the rules the way he does. Here is what I think happened: He did three threshold-only touches while entering the coffee shop in episode 1. What does that accomplish? Why would he do that? I don't know! My current guess is maybe three in a row actually gives next-level supernatural points in the game, largely in part because of the season’s ending, which is too much to cover here.

Am I sure? Absolutely not, especially with how blurs seem to work between characters and the more standard earthly object touches.

The car arrives, and Crowley places only part of his shoe on the edge of the sidewalk. The heel doesn't touch the street, and the front tip doesn't touch the sidewalk. The movement is quick, so it's a little blurred. Theoretical threshold-only touch #1.

The camera pans up, and then you see his fingers on the side panel of his door that just so happen to only get maybe the window frame and not the window itself. It's blurry, but that's the best I can do. I also have to check frame by frame because it's too fast otherwise. So, if the window is the earthly object but not its frame, then we're good. He's touching both the door frame and the window frame so that could be a 2-in-1 touch. Theoretical threshold-only touch #2.

He closes the door, steps forward, does a spin, and then walks toward the coffee shop. When he gets to that door, his hand should be above the lock, and maybe it's a blurry gray thing, but it's so hard to tell. It's blurry. He's moving too fast. Even if he is touching it, he is covering it completely with his hand.

Since he covers it up fully with his palm, does it somehow not count? If so, then you can tell that his fingers are on the door panel only while his thumb is on the indentation of that panel connected to the window. The tip of his thumb is barely touching the window. The credit for the touch goes to the door panel instead of the window because the door panel has three of five digits from one hand on it whereas the window only has that one little thumb tip. Three digits on one panel could be a 3-in-1 touch. Theoretical threshold-only touch #3.

On entry, there is a fourth threshold that has no door, it’s just separating one section of the coffee shop to another. He passes through, passes Aziraphale, and sits down.

For some reason, he saves his starting two points for the arm on the back of the chair and the question, "Right., what's the problem?" Added in is an implied skin contact touch to the table, seen two cuts later.

The music and the camera work is really impressive in the whole thing, in my opinion. The story wants us to see that sequence in that way. What a beautiful entrance.

He's playing this game in tandem with his sideburns scheme, and there, he is definitely using thresholds to his advantage.

...

Earthly Objects Main

Earthly Objects Part 1

Earthly Objects Part 2

Earthly Objects Part 3

#crowley #good omens 2 #good omens #good omens s2 #david tennant #good omens season 2 #good omens analysis #good omens meta #good omens crowley #crowley good omens #good omens 2 meta #good omens 2 analysis #good omens 2 the final fifteen #the final fifteen #good omens 2 threshold tricks

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words-are-fireproof · 1 year

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Summary: You and Dieter Bravo go out for a date.

Rating: T

A/N: This is my first dilfcember post and whew I'm not sure about it. But here it is. I'm not good at cute and fluffy stuff. Seriously. And I'm bad at short stuff and I didn't know how to end it. So...I don't even know.

Word Count: 1.2k

[Masterlist] || [Series Masterlist] || Part Two

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Snow fell languidly from the grey streaked sky. You hooked your arm through his in an effort to get warm as a slight breeze sent fat, fluffy flakes of white swirling around your feet. You didn’t know how he wasn’t cold. You were freezing as you walked the damp sidewalks of New York City. In fact, you were dressed in so many layers you felt like the Michelin man, plus you wore an ear hat and gloves just for extra precaution. Dieter had laughed at you as you tugged everything on before you left his spacious Brownstone. You laughed, too, even if you did feel just the tiniest niggle of annoyance at him laughing at you. You were cold. He seemed to not be affected by it, even if he did constantly grumble about it.

If he hated the winter, you loved it, despite the fact it made you freeze. You liked the way the city seemed to quiet when snow fell, the honking and sounds of cars muffled under the snow and the persuasive hush of the season. It felt wonderful, different. Calming, and you needed the calm. You tried not to think of the things you’d been saddled with at work. The website you currently slaved over had more glitches and bugs than you could count. You weren’t sure where you and Dieter stood as a couple. Everything felt off, but you could count on winter to calm you down.

You looked over at Dieter as you walked. Despite everything you wore, you could still feel the wind cutting through you. You wondered how he handled it wearing just a simple turtleneck and peacoat. The peacoat wasn’t even buttoned. You were sure the wind bothered him just as much as it bothered you, but as you walked arm in arm, you didn’t feel him shivering from the chill. He continued on as poised as ever, tugging you along to some unknown destination.

By the time the fourth city block came and went, you were far too cold to let curiosity bolster you. You nudged him in the side with your elbow as you passed another shop.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Someplace I think you’ll like.”

You huffed, feeling that annoyance bubble up inside your chest. You hated surprises.

“This isn’t a fun date so far.”

“Baby, I know you’ll enjoy it, but for now, we just need to face the cold.”

“We could’ve taken the bus or a cab.”

He laughed, nudging you back gently. “We could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Staying warm. That’s what makes it fun.”

He shook his head, his deep brown eyes shining in the dim light as he looked at you. “I just think you’ve been spoiled, is all.”

“Hey!” You exclaim as you elbow him in the side. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, I know it isn’t.”

“But you couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ playfully, causing you to roll your eyes again.

But before you could say anything else, he tugged you into a six story townhouse full of old world charm and lined with books on every shelf imaginable. You gasped, not used to the splendor or the amount of books in the space. You were sure your eyes were cup saucers wide as you looked around and took everything in.

“Holy shit, this place is incredible.”

Dieter grinned at you, that dimple on his right cheek deepening. Butterflies flapped in your stomach as you watched him.

“This is the oldest bookshop in New York. Did you know it was founded in 1925?”

“I didn’t even know this place existed!” You murmured in awe.

“Now you do,” he said with a playful wink. “Come on,” he began, taking your hand and tugging you along, “let’s go looking around.”

You couldn’t believe your luck. You couldn’t believe your eyes. The place was amazing. The smell of ink and paper and leather assaulted your senses, but you’ve never been as relaxed as you were then. It felt foreign to be there, like you’d stepped back in time. You didn’t want to touch anything. You just wanted to breathe in the atmosphere and breathe in the warm, comforting smell, and you wanted to revel in the feel of his large hand enveloped around yours. You’d never quite felt anything like it. Sure, you’ve held your boyfriend’s hands before. You never deprived yourself of that, but his hand just felt different. It felt right. Everything about him felt right, despite the rocky start you both had.

The two of you rounded around a corner and he tugged you into a kiss, the first of many hidden among the bookshelves, despite the fact that people milled around you both. You didn’t care. You were finally happy, and you liked the way the emotion looked on him, all bright and shining from every pore of his body. It made your heart flutter and your body buzz with excitement. You were finally doing something right. You must be. Or he wouldn’t be so happy, would he?

You stole another kiss, spinning them around and pushing him gently up against a bookshelf. His free hand skimmed over your back. You could feel the grin on his supple lips as you drowned in them.

His teeth nipped gently at your lower lip. His silky voice murmured against you softly.

“You’re a little minx.”

“You should’ve known that,” you whispered back.

“I did.” He stole another kiss. “Do you want to see something cool?”

You lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you brought me here to buy books.”

He huffs. “Yes, I did. But this place has more than just books.”

He tugs you, squeezing your hand as he does. As you passed a window going up the stairs, you watched the snow spiral in the wind.

He showed you autographs the store has, antique maps, and leather bound first editions, peppering each title with stories and trivia you wonder how he knows. But you don’t ask. You don’t dare ask. If you ask, you know he’ll clam up and shut down. You don’t want that. This was a date, and that was more important than anything else right now.

You continued to pass by more and more rows of books when you finally decide to grab one, pulling it delicately from the shelf from the spine and flipping it open. You gasped when you saw the messy scrawl of an autograph.

“No way! No way, this is autographed!”

He chuckled. “Most everything on this floor is autographed.”

“This is so cool.”

“Do you want it?”

You tilted your head, brows furrowed as you peered at him. “It’s too expensive.”

“Not for me,” he crooned near your ear.

You gasp. “No, don’t. Don’t you dare.”

“If I want to buy something, I can. Can’t I?”

You sighed heavily. You guess he could. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. Not really. You two were boyfriend and girlfriend, weren’t you? You knew that this was all part of the experience. But you tried not to think of your last boyfriend. That relationship crashed and burned. In fact, it’d been the worst boyfriend you’d ever had. Memories of that manchild made your stomach roll sickly, but you pushed back the sickness with a sweeter than sugar smile.

“Yes, you can.”

He stole another kiss, the both of you unable to get enough. You couldn’t believe your luck. And you still couldn’t believe it as you headed back outside, the snow falling thick around you as you clutched a canvas sack in your hands, the autographed book in your possession.

#wwdilfcember #wwdilfcember 2022 #sweet summer child #sam writes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #alternate universe #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you

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mrssimply · 1 year

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15th: Rain

In my little experience about fandom, there are phases: the fix-it phase (which comes first generally, in an attempt to heal the damage made by the source material), then the canon compliant-different POV fics, then the branching-from-canon AUs, the canon divergent AUs, the what ifs AUs and finally, the crossover and tropes AUs.

And I belive each fandom and pairing need at least one coffee AU (that we got here courtesy of Danypooh80), one bookshop or flower shop AU, and one university AU. And since the last two don't exist for Kerry/V I decided to do it!

You can find the prompt list here.

Every fic will be posted on my AO3 Account here.

Please, enjoy the softness :D That one is t-rated.

It’s raining, which always brings a strange atmosphere over Night City. Things get calmer, as calm as they can be in such a mastodon of wires, metal and rust. To V, it means less business, but it’s fine because he was getting late on accounts and the management of the shop’s social media pages.

He’s trying to decide between two fonts for his next announcement about the dried flower crowns, a huge hit of the previous fall, when a customer stumbles in with a curse. He stops right on the threshold to look back at the downpour with a weary sigh.

“Great, just fuckin’ great,” he mutters before looking around, like he just noticed he came into a flower shop. V can’t really see his expression since he appears in profile to him, and the stranger is wearing a huge pair of glasses, like a headband over his eyes. Still, this face looks familiar and V is already racking his brain trying to make the connection.

When the man finally turns, it hits V like a punch to the gut. The cyberware around his throat gives him away, even if it’s partially hidden under a dove gray turtleneck, and if not that then the telltale chrome lines on his cheeks would. This is Kerry Eurodyne, the famous rockerboy, the last one if you believed some screamsheets, the guy with the twenty albums, nearly all platinum, and billions of records sold internationally. He’s also a pure NC product, and every citizen’s wet dream, even at his age.

“Welcome to Misty’s Flower Shop,” V says automatically, a sentence that’s been ingrained in his brain since he started working here two years ago. Today he’s glad for it because the alternative would have been a very awkward silence.

The rockstar eyes V suspiciously, probably trying to determine if he’s about to turn into a crazy fanboy or not, so the shopkeeper forces himself not to gape and act as naturally as possible.

He lets the celebrity walk around the tiny shop for half a minute, but it’s obvious Eurodyne ended up in the shop to take shelter from the rain first and foremost. V wonders how he ended up walking through Little China, since the young man thought famous people went everywhere by cars or AV.

“Can I help you?” V asks when he can’t bear the silence one more minute.

The rocker chuckles nervously and glances up at him. The glasses are lightly tinted, allowing V a glimpse of eyes he knows are blue. They look sheepish.

“Not really I…”

“Got caught in the rain?” V finishes and the man nods. Another ten painfully awkward seconds before the florist straightens. “Do you want coffee? Tea?”

Eurodyne seems surprised by the offer, and a flash of suspicion zaps through his gaze. V holds his ground, trying to look like having a celebrity in his shop is no big deal. It’s not even his shop, it’s his friend’s shop, she is the real floral artist, he’s just helping her for some money while he figures out his life.

Again, the rocker mumbles a curse that sounds like a “fuck it” and comes closer.

“Coffee would be great. Actually ran away from a meeting, and they didn’t even offer me some, so really the last time I had any was this morning, I mean, when I woke up, so maybe four hours ago but let me tell you, that’s too long.”

V blinks in the following silence. That was…

“Shit,” the famous singer says with a wry smile before running his hands over his face. “Anyway, yes please and thank you.”

V turns stiffly toward the back room, managing to throw a weird smile at the man before practically running. He bites the inside of his cheek hard not to laugh because this was so strange! Who would have thought Kerry Eurodyne, who could perform in front of entire arenas and work the public like a pro, would be a nervous mess in his daily life? V has seen interviews, he’s not like this on screen for interviews either, so maybe it’s just a weird day for him.

He loses his smile once he realizes he doesn’t have coffee. He used to drink it but hanging out with Misty means he slowly shifted to tea, never really noticing until he couldn’t drink a drop of the grinded beans beverage without having to run for the bathroom.

Bracing himself for more awkwardness, he makes tea and brings two cups with the teapot. Surprisingly, Eurodyne is still there, looking around with curiosity. He’s still wearing his glasses but he’s pushed them down his nose to look at some blue dahlias. They match his eyes, V thinks, standing like a gonk with the tray.

He puts everything on the little counter with the laptop, and the noise startles the rocker.

“I don’t have coffee, sorry.”

“Why did you offer some, then?”

“I forgot I don’t drink it anymore.”

Eurodyne sniffs the aroma of the tea and pulls a face, which makes V scowl internally. This is not Caliente. The singer still takes the tea, tries to drink it right away and burns his tongue before V has the time to warn him.

It’s too much, V laughs out loud, and gets glared at.

“Sorry, it’s just, the face you made was so cute, like you were outraged the tea dared to burn you,” V explains before turning away to laugh some more. It takes him a minute to stifle his chuckles, and ten more seconds before he dares looking at the celebrity again.

He’s watching him with the ghost of a smile on his lips, something amused, and V freezes because here he is, the charismatic singer.

“Sorry,” he repeats, suddenly sobering up.

Eurodyne doesn’t say anything, just takes back the tea to blow on it. He frowns, tries to put it back to his lips and discovers it’s still too hot so he puts it back on the trail with a frustrated huff.

“This your shop?” he asks suddenly.

“Nope. Friend of mine. I’m just working for her, she is the real deal.”

Kerry nods, like he thought as much and V should feel offended but he can’t. Something that feels strangely like fondness is spreading through him.

“Do you grow them? The flowers?”

“A friend does, yeah. Another one. Misty, that’s the shop owner, makes the bouquets.”

“So you’re not Misty.”

“Nope,” V pops the P with a frown, not getting where this is going.

“No, ‘cause, with the name of the shop and you inside I thought maybe you were Misty.”

Apparently, they’re back on awkward conversation, if they ever left.

“No, that’s my friend… as I said.”

Eurodyne snorts and takes off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck, man, it’s just… It’s been such a week, promise I’m not usually this… like that,” he finishes lamely.

“It’s alright, it’s not everyday I got a celebrity in the shop.”

The rocker winces then shrugs.

“Want an autograph?”

V knows the probably cool thing would be to say no, act like it’s not big deal, but the fourteen years old inside of him is absolutely screaming at him to say yes.

“Sure.”

Eurodyne gives him a wry smile while V gives him a flyer about the shop special event of last week and a sharpie.

“So… What’s your name.”

“V.”

“V? Like, the letter V?”

“Well, only my closest friends get to know my full name…” He tells the rockstar without heat, but firmly enough, like he does with everyone else. The man looks at him for a long second, a glimpse of something interested in his gaze, before he shrugs again.

“V it is.”

He pushes back the flyers toward the young shopkeeper.

“I heard it sells well,” he adds, tapping the paper he just signed with the pen.

“Really?” V blurts before registering how rude it sounded, “I mean…”

But Eurodyne just smiles, charming and confident.

“Really,” he rumbles, leaning on his elbows against the counter. “So, V,” he continues, and the letter rolls in his mouth like thick dark chocolate. It makes the young man shivers, “got anything that says ‘sorry I cheated on you?’”

It brings V back on earth very fast.

“Huh… Yeah?”

“Then please, the biggest you can make.”

When he glances at the shopkeeper, his face appears drawn, tired, for a moment he looks his age. V observes him for a few seconds more before retreating to the back of the shop. Misty might be the artist, but she’s been teaching V the ropes, since his soul searching is taking longer than anticipated.

He starts composing the bouquet following her teachings, and adding his own touch, just like she always asks him to do.

He brings his creation back to the rocker, who is apparently on the holo with someone.

“Fuck, I said sorry how many times now? What do you want from me, huh?”

He ignores V when he put the gigantic bouquet on the counter and frowns again. “No, Lou — Lets talk this through, you know I didn’t — shit,” he concludes as the call disconnects.

He sighs, turns back to V and his eyes fall on the enormous flower composition.

“Yep, that ought to do it. I thought yellow was code for cheating in the flower language?” he comments, nudging a mimosa with the tip of his finger.

“We don’t do that here, it’s not the eighteenth century anymore,” V replies with an exasperated expression. It makes the rocker snorts and smile.

“True, how much?”

V rings it, and just as he finishes, a cab pulls in front of the shop. It’s a Delamain, so there is no doubt it’s for his unusual client.

“Thanks V,” Eurodyne says, taking the bouquet without much care and getting out of the shop.

Later, V looks up the news about Eurodyne, and sure enough, he’s been spotted with a man, a new one, and apparently his wife is fed up with that. He tells Misty about it the next time she comes with new arrangements, and she listens with a mysterious smile.

“The rain led him here, interesting,” she concludes and V refrains from pointing out that the rain didn’t do anything, it’s all a coincidence, a funny one. He shuts up because he knows it’s no use with her and sighs internally before going back to the accounts. He still hasn’t finished them.

He glances at the flyer pinned on the wall to his left, the one with a “Thanks for the tea, V,” messily scrawled over a very famous signature.

Imagine his surprise when about a week later, Eurodyne is back in his shop, right before closing. It’s another rainy day so V glares at the universe for playing that game on him with Misty.

“Welcome to Misty’s Flower Shop,” he says and Eurodyne gives him a wry smile.

“Had to come late, avoid the fans, ya know,” he says as an apology for getting in right as V was turning the sign to closed. Once in the shop, he takes his glasses off and wow, he looks like shit.

It must be apparent on V’s expression, because the celebrity winces before rubbing at his nape.

“Yeah,” he concurs.

They hovers near the entrance, and V realizes Eurodyne is smaller than him, not by a lot but enough it’s noticeable. He’s also once again drenched.

“Did you come on foot?”

“Yeah I… Couldn’t remember the name, had to retrace my steps. It started raining again.”

“Oh.”

The pause stretches as V gets a bit lost in his eyes. They are bloodshot with lack of sleep or something else but mostly, they look so, so sad. It pulls at V’s heart in an unexpected way.

“You want Co — Tea. You want tea?”

Eurodyne smirks and nods, and V suddenly remember how to function. When he comes back with the tea, the rocker has his head caught in his hands, elbows on the counter, taking deep breaths.

“You ok?” V asks gently.

Eurodynes raises his head and gives him a small smile.

“You got anything that says ‘please don’t leave me’?”

V’s gaze saddens and he nods silently.

“This for your wife or… The guy.”

“Ah, someone did his homework,” the rocker says, “it’s for Louise. My wife.”

“‘k”

V takes his time making the bouquet with what’s left in the shop at this hour. He really tries to put everything he knows to make one beautiful arrangement, but he’s still nervous when he comes out to give it to the musician.

“Sorry, there isn’t much left at this hour… Misty is bringing new things tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, it’s beautiful, V,” Eurodyne says tiredly. He blows on the tea slowly, having learned his lesson, and takes a sip.

“This really doesn’t taste like much.”

“It will grow on you,” V finds himself saying before biting his tongue because this is exactly what Misty used to say, and the rocker looks as skeptical as V felt at the time.

Silence stretches between them, and V can’t really keep the question to himself.

“Do you love her, your wife?”

It’s notably known that Eurodyne prefers men, though he’s been with a few women. When he announced his marriage to Louise Nordin, a lot of people were surprised, some became even accusatory and said he was a coward trying to fit in like they hadn’t ever heard about bisexuality. But it’s also widely known that this marriage has been tanking for a year or so.

Eurodyne sighs and rakes a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. I do. Used to. I think.” It’s clearly not an enthusiastic endorsement. “Was in a weird place when I married her. Thought I wanted to try the piquet fence and two point five children, ya know?”

V doesn’t, but he nods anyway.

“It was pleasant for a while. Then it became fucking boring. I do stupid shit when I’m bored and well, here we are.”

“She is asking for divorce?”

“Not yet… Soon, probably.”

“And you want to stay with her?”

Eurodyne looks at him, bites his lips.

“I want to be able to say that I tried,” he confesses, and it seems to surprise him more than V, how honest he was in his answer.

He rubs his eyes and chuckles dryly.

“Shit, why am I telling you all this? You’ll probably sell it to the media. How much?” he snaps, pointing to the floral arrangement, suddenly angry and V fumbles with the laptop to ring the bouquet, too surprised to try and protest.

Eurodyne looks outside, at the rain still pouring. There is no cab waiting. He gets out with the bouquet, not looking at V, and disappears into the night.

Frantically for the next week, V refreshes the gossip pages and puts an alert on Kerry Eurodyne, convinced the rocker got mugged on his way back home. But apparently not, because nothing pops and V is pretty sure it would make the headline of most screamsheets if he was dead.

He finds himself listening to old records at home while he tries to finish the accounts.

Half a month later, V knows that Louise asked for divorce, it’s been on every gossip page, just like the wedding had at the time. He is reading a very intrusive article and feeling outraged on Kerry's behalf as he waits for water to boil. His angry muttering gets interrupted when the chime of the entrance indicates a new customer. V frowns, he was about sure he turned the sign to closed.

When he walks in the shop proper, he’s half surprised, and half not when he discovers it’s Eurodyne again: it was raining the whole day.

He looks dejected and small in a too big hoodie, but offers a wry smile at V.

“Hey,” he says softly, like they’ve known each other for years and not just met twice. Something warm grows inside V’s heart that makes him clear his throat.

“Tea?”

“Sure.”

Once the herbal beverage is cooling down between them, Eurodyne glances around, his eyes stopping on new flowers Misty brought back yesterday.

“She sure knows how to choose them,” the rocker comments like he knows anything about flowers, but V agrees anyway.

“I'm surprised it works, your little shop. It’s far from the usual spots and who still buys flower nowaday?”

“Lost superstars, apparently.”

“I’m not lost,” he snaps back, prompting V to raise placating hands.

“I mean, the first time, you were lost, right?”

Eurodyne blinks, and then seems to relax.

“Maybe.”

He takes his cup, brings his hands around to warm them and looks at the tea with half lowered lids, like he can find some answers in the perfumed liquid.

“She is taking everything, ya know. Being a real bitch, and my lawyer isn’t super enthusiastic about the fact I’m happy to let her have it. He never is, I think he doesn’t like me.”

V can’t help but snort at his petulant tone.

“That’s terrible,” he says and the amused tone makes Eurodyne glare at him, but it’s half hearted.

“Wanna know the worst? Now that it’s official, I actually feel relieved.”

“Means it was the right thing to do,” V replies, quoting Misty.

“Being such an asshole my wife dumped me?”

“Er — I meant…” But the rocker is smiling mischievously.

“I get it, thanks, V,” he sighs, looks around once more before focusing abc on his tea. “Johnny would probably laugh and say I had it coming, trying to play the corpo drone.”

“Johnny Silverhand?”

“Ha, you’re a real fan. Bit young, no? Who was it? Dad, mom?”

“Nah, my best-friend’s mom. She is a true rocker at heart. She hated that her son preferred spanish larzpop.”

Eurodyne winces like he agrees.

"We would side against him, she and I. They could talk for hours about music, but neither could hold a tune.”

“What happened?” Eurodyne asks after a moment of silence.

“Huh?”

“You’re using the past tense, what happened?”

V feels a wave of anxious heat spread through him, and he fidgets as the old wound reopens.

“He… He died.”

The rocker doesn’t say sorry, but his eyes clouds with shared pain. That's something they got in common, best friend’s lost at the hand of Arasaka. The story spills out of V before he's made the conscious choice.

“We were mercs for a while. Got a gig to steal something from Arasaka. We botched it, he didn’t make it and I had to lie low so… Misty was his girlfriend, I thought about leaving NC but she convinced me to stay. We… We’ve been helping each other with the grief,” he concludes, looking down.

Eurodynes shifts, brings a hand to V’s shoulders.

“It gets better, promise,” he says and the young man finds himself on the verge of tears but he nods.

“What was his name?”

“Jackie,” V mumbles, and it’s suddenly too much. Shakily, he asks: “You… You needed anything?”

“Yeah," the musicnabreplies softly after a moment of silence, "Something that says ‘I’m sorry’?”

V retreats to the backroom and work on the bouquet at the same time he tries to manage his emotions. When he comes back, Eurodyne is gone, and only left behind another note “put it on my bill, for Johnny and Jackie” scribbled on a post-it note.

After that encounter, V sort of slides into a contemplative mood. He feels something shift inside of him. It's strange, like shedding a heavy coat he's been wearing since Jackie's death. Seeing his face, Misty insists he should take a trip, that a change of air and seeing some friends would do him some good.

The shop keeper is reluctant to do it, even if he can tell she's right. What if Kerry Eurodyne came back while he was away?

The truth is, V can't stop thinking about him, not the superstar, but the man. This person he's started calling just Kerry in his mind. This man who shared his grief, who seemed to understand it viceraly…

But the celebrity doesn't come back and Misty, tired of hearing him sigh mornfully, tells him to take two weeks while she does spring cleaning. Since it's a process involving not just brooms, but purification rituals V is really suspicious of, he accepts.

Two weeks later, when V comes back feeling refreshed and strangely hopeful, Misty informs him that he had a visit while he was gone.

V’s heart pounds in his chest at her enigmatic smile.

“Said he was coming to settle his debt and asked about you. He left his phone number.” She explains before sliding a Caliente receipt at him. On it is a number, barely decipherable, smudged by what V would bet is rainwater, and a name: Kerry Eurodyne.

A year later.

V is humming a tune under his breath as he cleans the workshop at the back. He just finished the accounts for the month and decided a little bit of cleaning would help him clear his mind from the debilitating excel lines he worked on.

Distractedly, he puts water to boil, and two cups beside it. He’s just finished pouring the water into the teapot when the door chimes. With a grin, he goes back upfront, expression widening when he sees it’s indeed Kerry.

He then snorts when he sees the rockerboy is wet like a drowned cat, and looking supremely annoyed by that fact. He is shaking his hands to get rid of the excessive water, cursing a blue streak and moaning about his leather vest being wet.

The moment he spots V, though, his face transforms into a big smile and he saunters to the counter.

“Hey you.”

“Hey,” V breathes back in answer, heart racing joyfully in his chest and cheeks flushing sweetly. He has it bad.

Kerry makes a small noise of happiness when he spots the tea, taking his cup and smelling the subtle aroma with delight.

“Jasmine tea, my favorite.”

“Yeah,” V replies, still trying to rewire his brain into working properly. He’s used to it, though. Seeing Kerry sort of makes him short circuit every time like he’s fourteen and having his first crush. A part of him hopes it won’t ever stop being like this.

“You were right, ya know?” Kerry declares, “It grew on me.”

V's smile blooms bigger and he chuckles.

“I’ll tell Misty she converted another poor unsuspecting soul.”

“Don’t think Misty had much to do with this, it was your dashing smile that did the heavy lifting.”

V blushes harder under Kerry’s mischievous smile, then the rocker leans across the counter to catch V’s cute pink apron and pull him closer.

“I have a request,” he whispers against the young shopkeeper's lips.

“Yeah?"

“Yeah. Something that says ‘I love you’?”

V grins and closes the slim distance between their mouths, kissing him fully.

#kerry x v #kerry eurodyne #male V #fic advent calendar #my writing #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077

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thesherrinfordfacility · 10 months

Text

ALSO okay but we've also gotten this promo pic:

and now im rather petrified that shax is going to be using this rift to her advantage? the sfx article said that this is her first major crisis on earth under her tenure and she leads an attack on the bookshop to retrieve gabriel (which we've seen other pics of)

my concern is that she and crowley seem to get pretty chummy which hey - he's allowed other friends i guess - but what if she uses this void between crowley and aziraphale to her advantage? im a little flummoxed as to how crowley would suddenly concede to aziraphale's thought process where protecting gabriel is concerned, so what if... it's faked?

like crowley decides to essentially undermine aziraphale so he can get gabriel yeeted back to heaven or hell (that's just details he doesn't care which), so he can have aziraphale back to himself again? remove gabriel from the equation and yay he gets his precious peaceful life back again with aziraphale?

alternatively to crowley being manipulated and manipulating in turn, what if it isn't crowley at all? what if shax starts impersonating him? i say this because (and @theeminentlyimpractical you may need to weigh in on this with your ✨timeline magic✨) we see the below screenshot that i wouldve put money on being after the argument and after aziraphale and crowley fall out for a bit... and in fact i thought the filenames put this encounter at ep3?

but in this shot crowley has short sideburns... so could it be that instead this is the real crowley, and long sideburns/different glasses/shorter hair crowley is shax impersonating him???

EDIT because the thoughts keep coming:

okay so lalie noticed that crowley in the photo with shax is wearing his 'going out top' aka the turtleneck, which we know he wears at the pub - this scene is more than likely at least halfway through the series, so unfortunately this is only feeding into my delusion that crowley might be conspiring with shax to get rid of gabriel, or she is at least attempting to manipulate him into crossing aziraphale at any rate

PLUS i took another look at the trailer and we have the below bit where the demons attack the bookshop, and it feels suddenly very conspicuous that crowley does not appear to be there...???

couple that with this shot of shax and the artwork of Crowley sitting on a hellish throne (?) with beelzebub, im wondering if crowley is again a) being impersonated, b) crowley is being held in hell against his will? or c) is somehow wanting to be there???? idk but in any case im getting icky sweaty palm feelings about this scoob

update: neil responded to me with a wait and see on this post and im scared for my life

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens speculation #crowley #aziraphale #shax good omens #brain go brrrr #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy

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sxvxrxssnape · 3 years

Text

severus' sixty-first birthday

- minerva sends severus a birthday card every year and though she doesn't sign it or return address it, he knows they're from her. they worked together for years, he recognizes her handwriting

- he's not entirely sure how she found his address but maybe owls are just that good at tracking people. still, she never asks to see him or mentions how the rest of the wizarding world has long thought he's dead

- at this point, he opens his kitchen window in the morning and watches the sun peaking over the horizon as it starts to rise, sipping on his coffee, as he waits for the letter to arrive

- he'll read through it, smiling softly (though he wonders about the part where she mentions a gift on the way. shes never sent anything more than a card) before tucking the card away with all the others. he'll get dressed then and then walk into town. it's a quiet place where he's chosen to live and he's made friendly with a number of people and sometimes he misses the vibrancy of the wizarding world and the comaderie of being a hogwarts professor but that atmosphere had long fizzled out and going back would never truly mean going back. he's moved on and he's fine with that

- he prefers early morning to get the shopping done. it's less crowded and the world feels untouched, pure and magical, at this hour. he'll stop at the local bakery, buy himself a pastry and another cup of coffee, savoring sweet almond and blueberry, before continuing to the grocery store and picking up the few things he needs for tonight's dinner

- its his 61st birthday today and though he doesn't want to make a big deal out of his birthday, he's learned that it's okay to celebrate your own existence and indulge in the things that make him happy

- as it stands, a well made shepherds pie with good bread and red wine would make him very happy today

- his grocery tote is charmed to keep cool and feather light, so after gathering what he needs he'll head to the bookshop. this is one of his favorite activities and absolutely not reserved for his birthday. his favorite bookshop is old and quaint, hosting strange books with mysterious origins. a lot of the locals think its all false but severus has a trained eye and can recognize magical tombs when he sees them. the first time he came, he cleared out any that could be considered dangerous to muggles. now he likes to browse through the remains and pick up a new read or two; they're not all magical but they are all interesting. the shopkeeper is a very old woman who looks very out of place in this millennium, but he supposes he does too some days

- she wishes him a happy birthday, eyeing his black coat with a certain kind of scrutiny he's gotten used to from her. he was never able to give up his long coats and now he wears them unbuttoned over black turtlenecks. it makes him look less imposing, he supposes, although enough people have asked what he teaches that it sets him on edge

- he doesn't remember when she learned his birthday, but he pays it no mind. a few of the people he's come across here have learned his birthday by now. its the reason he'll get a free scoop of ice cream on his way home. she always looks at him like he's familiar but just can't place how, and part of him worries she's going barmy and starting to forget he's been coming here for years

- as he's paying for the two new books he's found, she says something that feels like its meant to be a warning but feels more like a threat: the aurors are in town today

- "pardon?" he asks, but she just smiles sweetly and waves him off like nothing was amiss, as if his blood hadn't just turned to ice beneath his skin

- he leaves the shop numbly, thinking it over. she couldnt have meant anything serious by it, although now he's kicking himself for not realizing she was a witch (or perhaps a squib?) he kept up with the wizarding world fairly regularly when he'd first disappeared. he knew potter had cleared his name posthumously and that he was hailed a hero, so whatever the reason for the aurors being in town, it has nothing to do with him. he decides to carry on as normal; too many years have passed for him to be known by this new generation of aurors.

- he does get his free ice cream, a scoop of vanilla caramel with a drizzle of chocolate, and he's sitting in a wrought iron chair outside the shop, under a carefully cast warming charm to keep him comfortable in the january air but with a cooling charm cast over his frozen treat, when he sees them

- there's two of them, fairly young and most likely born during the second war. they're dressed in the muggle version of their uniform he's come to recognize and watches them from his peripheral as they head down the street and wonders what they could be in town for

- he doesn't notice the third, older auror watching him with widening eyes, no longer paranoid enough to check who's standing behind him, as he swirls his spoon through the remnants of melted ice cream and gets lost in his thoughts

- he heads home after that, lights a fire, and makes a tomato and cheese sandwich for lunch. he catches up on a few episodes of his current favorite show (a historical drama this time) and enjoys his quiet afternoon

- when its time to start on dinner, he'll put something on the record player (he's got a soft spot for the record player alright, he's aware of what spotify is, he just enjoys the nostalgia of vinyl), and get to work. he's got a glass of wine and he's singing along to pearl jam as he cuts carrots and potatoes

- he grows wild thyme and rosemary in the front yard, right next to the white chrysanthemums, so he puts his spoon down and goes to fetch some

- he doesn't expect to find potter standing just outside the gate with a pink bakery box in his hands looking simultaneously like a deer in the headlights and like he's just seen a ghost. which he supposes he has

- he ignores him in favor of picking the herbs. once he's done, he glances once in the direction of harry potter before returning inside. he leaves the door open and waits. it isn't until the herbs are washed and finely chopped, being stirred into the stew, that potter finally enters the kitchen. he holds the box tightly and blurts out "i thought you were dead"

- "evidently not." severus responds, spooning the mix into a baking dish and begins to top it with the mashed potatoes. "how did you find me?"

- he mutters some nonsense of working a case involving a local store selling magical wares to muggles (and severus frowns at this information, worried it might be imelda) and seeing him outside the ice cream shop. getting his address wasn't that hard and the cake he brought was simply a social nicety

- perhaps he hasn't been a professor for years now but he can still smell bullshit so he raises an eyebrow at the answer he's gotten. potter has grown in the years since he's seen him, no longer a strong-willed seventeen year old but now a tired looking auror of forty who's still just as bad at lying as he ever was. he thinks how he was around his age when they last spoke and that fact feels a little dizzying

- "you dont seem that surprised." severus muses, putting the pie in the oven and bringing down another glass. he has a feeling potter will be staying and the idea is already giving him headache. he thinks back to minervas letter and wonders if this is what she meant. perhaps its time to finally write back, he thinks, as he pours them each some wine; they have a lot to talk about it seems

#this was meant to be a plotless one shot but i never found the time to write it so have the bullet point version instead #snapedom #pro snape #severus snape #snape lives #current snape #harry potter #minerva mcgonagall

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theblacklupins · 3 years

Text

The bunch of keys in Remus’ hands jingled as he unlocked the glass door, opening the doors to the big space of bookshelves filled to the brim with leather bound books. Turning around, he smiled serenely as he looked around. Sunlight filtered through the gaps of the curtains.

He opened them, light now illuminating the entire bookstore. He sighed as he turned on the air conditioning, letting a cool breeze sweep over the entire shop.

He loved his job. He was surrounded by things he loved and it was all so calm and peaceful. Everything was what it was supposed to be.

Remus went behind the counter, clearing up any dust that had been left behind the day before. He looked at the clock.

“Eight,” he murmured, smiling softly to himself. “Gives me an hour, then.”

He shrugged on his coat, fixed his hair a bit and headed out with his wallet and phone, locking the doors again.

He headed down the street to which he’d just moved into, admiring the cute houses and occasional shop. He smiled brightly when he walked up to the place he’d been coming to ever since he opened his store.

He pushed open the glass doors, the smell of baked goods and coffee making his stomach rumble.

He stepped up behind two people who were queuing, silently pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram. He smiled at Lily’s selfie with Marlene and Mary in the background. He commented sarcastic eye roll emojis and hearts and put his phone in his pocket when it was his turn to order.

“The usual, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus smiled shyly and he nodded, looking up only to find his breath taken away, as always.

Because in front of him was the cafe cashier, Sirius Black, wearing a white apron and a black turtleneck underneath, hair tied up in a messy bun.

“Yeah,” Remus replied a little breathlessly. “The normal.”

“Iced latte and chocolate muffin!” Sirius yelled to the people manning the food and drinks a few meters behind him. He faced Remus again, shaking his head amusedly. “Don’t know why you still drink an iced latte in this cold ass weather.”

Remus let out a small laugh. “Don’t know either.”

Sirius perked up. “Almost forgot. Now, don’t tell anyone, but...”

Sirius slid a paper bag with two warn double chocolate chip cookies in it. Remus blinked and shook his head, trying to refuse but Sirius pushed him away as another customer entered the store. Remus sighed as he took the cookies and waited at the side of the store for his order. In less than ten minutes, his name got called and he collected his order, sending a fleeting smile towards Sirius and then rushing out of the cafe.

Every day it was like this. Head over to the cafe, buy breakfast, maybe flirt a little with Sirius, run out to tend to his bookshop and be busy for the rest of the day. Only talking to Sirius once every day, and then going to sleep thinking about his smile.

It could be better, but Remus wasn’t going to start complaining.

He sighed as he bit into the muffin, deciding to save the cookies for later.

𓅰𓅰𓅰

Remus woke up late on a Friday, because he’d been up late arranging and sorting out the new delivery of books that he’d ordered. He only collapsed on his bed at two in the morning, not even bothering to change his clothes.

He woke in a panic at fifty minutes past seven and hurriedly got ready and went down his bookstore. His apartment was situated a level above the bookshop, so it was much more convenient instead of having to wake up much earlier and then having to walk. Which meant that even if he woke up late, he wouldn’t be too late.

He managed to run down the stairs, nearly twisting his foot and unlocking the doors only eight minutes late. Thankfully, there weren’t any customers yet. People usually came in in the late afternoons or just before dinner, which gave Remus plenty of time to sort out orders and deliveries for books.

But only after a half an hour, people started coming in, streaming through the doors and browsing the shelves. Remus was surprised; usually only a few people came in once a day. Why so many now, and in such a short amount of time?

“Hey!”

Remus jerked, head looking up and eyes widening.

“Sirius?”

Sirius grinned, now wearing a leather jacket instead of his usual white apron. “Hey, stranger. Noticed how you didn’t come into the cafe today. Here.” He placed Remus’ order of iced latte and chocolate muffin — plus an extra two cookies — and leaned against the wooden counter.

“Nice thing you’ve got going on here,” Sirius commented lightly, smiling at the books. “It feels like it would be calm. Well, calm if there weren’t a crowd of people here right now.”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, sorry, don’t know why either. Usually it’s really quiet until later. And I didn’t head to the cafe because I woke up late. Been up all night sorting everything out.”

Sirius pursed his lips. “I... may know the reason why you’ve gotten a bunch of customers all of a sudden.”

Remus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

“I may have... promoted your bookstore a bit? Yesterday?”

Remus blinked. “What?”

Sirius scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I, uh, went onto my cafe’s social media platforms and uh, promoted your bookshop.”

Remus whipped out his phone and went to Twitter, searching the cafe Sirius worked at, and sure enough, a picture of his bookshop, taken while Remus wasn’t in. The light from the sun illuminated the inside through the windows, making the entire shop nearly glow. The caption above stated:

Mr. Lupin’s bookshop is a must to visit once you’ve bought from us! Books and cafe delights are something to bring peace to heart and mind. Check out Mr. Lupin’s bookshop and you won’t be disappointed, with your favorite titles about romance, adventure or fantasy at your fingertips with a cup of coffee right beside.

Remus’ eyes widened and he looked up at Sirius, who smiled sheepishly. Before he could say anything, though, a few customers started to line up. Sirius had to move to the side so Remus could help them.

Once that was tended to, Remus faced Sirius, who had sidled up next to him behind the counter. “You— you really did that.”

Sirius grinned. “I did.”

Remus smiled softly, blushing just a tiny bit. “Thanks. This... really means a lot to me.”

Sirius’ grin turned softer, quieter, more of an adoring look than a smile at that point. “You’re welcome. I’m glad it made you happy.”

An elderly woman came up to the desk, holding a copy of Anne Frank. “Hello dears, how much is this?”

Remus helped her with her payment, and when she had the paper bag in her arms securely, she asked sweetly, “You boys look very sweet together. Reminds me if my own grandson and his husband.”

Remus blushed and became flustered, trying to explain how he and Sirius weren’t together, but he was silenced when Sirius replied, “Thank you, ma’am. I like to think we look good together too.”

She smiled serenely and walked out of the store, leaving behind a stuttering Remus.

“You...”

“Go out on a date with me, Remus Lupin?” Sirius asked quietly, fiddling with his fingers. “I know— we don’t talk a lot, but I’m really smitten with you and I’m hoping—"

Remus cut him off with a chaste kiss, only pressing in a couple of seconds before parting.

“Yeah, I’ll go on a date with you,” Remus breathed. He jumped when a wolf whistle sounded through the shop, and everyone started applauding. Remus blushed furiously and shrunk back, glaring at Sirius who grinned at him and bowed as if he was part of a show that dramatically changed everyone’s lives.

𓅰𓅰𓅰

“So we’re having a coffee date right?”

“Would be wrong not to, to be honest.”

#oml #this #this i just #oh dear #yes ik james and peter arent mentioned #and marlene mary and lily could be considered invisible #but i love this fic #remus john lupin #remus lupin #sirius black #sirius orion black #wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #lily evans #mary mcdonald #marlene mckinnon #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic

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