esthermitchell-author

[esthermitchell-author]

It Begins!

So, I'm in the final steps. Just reading through to make sure there aren't any obvious spelling, etc errors... but hopefully by the end of this week, I'll be starting the upload of the *Explicit* version of BORN OF STARLIGHT, as well as an updated version of the non-explicit version.

In the meantime, below the cut is one of the added scenes that will be available in both versions...

Aziraphale watched his husband prowl restlessly through the shop. Worry knotted in the Archangel's chest at the waves of anxiety coming off Crowley and the tension radiating around him like ozone just before a lightning strike. The atmosphere surrounding his husband had been like that ever since Crowley returned from wherever he'd gone -- Mayfair, if Aziraphale had to hazard a guess, given the electric hum of hellfire and Crowley's generally anxious and irritable demeanor since the demon's return. Not that he thought Crowley would ever let lightning loose in their home, but it was clear the demon was stressed.

Aziraphale frowned in concern. It was about time he did something about this, before all of Crowley's anxiety woke Jem again.

Rising to his feet, he waited patiently for Crowley to stalk through the sitting area again, and stepped quite deliberately into his husband's path. The demon pulled himself up short of running into the angel, his expression confused as he muttered, "Angel? Wot the–?"

"Shh," Aziraphale shushed him softly, laying his left hand gently over Crowley's racing heart and feeling the beats gradually slow beneath his touch. With his right hand, he reached up to glide his fingers around Crowley's neck and up through the shoulder-length strands the demon kept tied back from his face as he drew Crowley to him, until their foreheads rested against each other. He saw the flicker of relief in his demon's golden eyes before they fell shut, heard the quiet sigh Crowley didn't bother to mask, and felt tension draining from Crowley's body.

"Better?" The angel asked quietly, offering his husband a gentle smile and leaning up to brush a loving kiss over the demon's lips.

Crowley's eyes opened and he lifted one hand to press against the side of Aziraphale's neck. "Yeah. Thanks, angel."

"Always, my love. Want to talk about it?"

Crowley winced slightly, shaking his head as he straightened. "Nah. Not just yet."

Aziraphale released his hold, making sure his smile was in place as he nodded and stepped away. It wouldn't do to stress Crowley with his ridiculous feelings, just now. "Well, you know where to find me, when you're ready."

"Oi." The strong, slim fingers of Crowley's hand caught the Archangel's wrist as he turned away, halting his retreat. "It's not like that, angel. There's just something I gotta do, and I don't want you worrying."

Aziraphale chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're being silly, again. I'll always worry about you, Anthony. I always have."

"Angel..."

"I also trust you to be careful. The two aren't mutually exclusive." The Archangel glanced down at where Crowley had a light grip on his wrist, then up to his husband with one lifted eyebrow as he made his position very clear. "And neither of which means I won't personally turn Hell upside down to drag you back here -- should you get yourself caught -- so you can explain to our daughter how whatever you're up to is important enough to risk her happiness and safety."

Crowley stared at him for a long moment, then huffed a quiet laugh. "Fuck, angel. How do I manage to forget just how much of a bastard you can be if you put your mind to it?"

"No idea. In this case, I'm serious, Crowley." He waited until he was sure he had the demon's complete attention before quietly demanding, "Promise me you're not going to break her heart. Or mine."

He watched Crowley swallow, saw the fear and pain in his husband's eyes, and knew his point was made, even before the demon lifted his captive hand, kissed the wedding band there, and rasped, "I thought I already did."

Aziraphale sighed when he saw the demon glance at his watch. Pulling away, he shooed his husband toward the door. "Go, already. I know you have things to do, whatever they are."

Crowley looked deeply conflicted for a long moment, then nodded, his expression going harder than Aziraphale had seen it since 1862. Knowing what he now knew about that time, the Archangel suppressed the clutch of fear in his chest. He was right, then -- whatever Crowley intended to do was dangerous.

As if aware of Aziraphale's fear -- which his demon probably was, at that -- Crowley offered him the flicker of what he no doubt meant as a reassuring smile, and muttered, "I'll be back tomorrow night. Give Jemmy a hug and a kiss for me, and let her know I'm not gone long, yeah?"

"Of course." Aziraphale knew, with sinking certainty, this was how Crowley always felt whenever he had to go to Heaven for something. Only, Heaven wasn't dangerous. Not anymore. If Crowley ended up in Hell... The Archangel's breath caught on a quick burst of panic as his husband turned toward the back door of the shop. His hand instinctively lifted to stop Crowley from leaving, then fell back to his side, trembling, as he whispered, "I love you, Anothony J. Crowley. Remember that."

Crowley turned, covered the handful of steps between them, and crushed the angel's mouth beneath a desperate kiss that was all too short, before pulling away to mutter, "I love you, too, angel. I will be back, and I'll be careful. I promise."

Aziraphale nodded, clenching his trembling hands into fists at his side as he watched the love of his life disappear through the bookshop's back door, then heard the muted sound of the Bentley starting. If there was one certainty the Archangel held onto, it was that Crowley was his. If he had to drown Hell in Holy Water and destroy Satan Himself to get his husband back, there wasn't a question in Aziraphale's mind that's what he'd do.

"Don't make me have to rescue you," he whispered, certain Crowley could feel the words, even if the demon couldn't hear them.

#good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #azicrow #ineffable spouses #fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #gomens fanfic #go fanfic #gomens

[esthermitchell-author]

I plan to check it out... Who else is planning to join me? :)

Good News to all Good Omens fans!

(Please read this, it doesnt take long to read and recording and editing all of this took me a whole week of non-stop work)

I have made a Youtube Playlist of all of Good Omens put into chronological order.

Originally I just had a notes document with all the time stamps put into chronological order (with labels) but I have now made it a reality!

The notes document is still accessible for everyone on my account (currently its’s the pinned post but I think once I upload the YouTube link, that will be the pinned post) and if you would rather watch Good Omens in Chronological Order manually, then feel free to do so :D

The Link for the Youtube playlist will be posted on my account on Sunday 21st April, just after teatime (4:45pm BST, 11:45am ET, 10:45am CT, 9:45am MT & 8:45am PT). It will also become a public playlist so if you look up ‘Good Omens in Chronological Order’ it should come up

If this post gets deleted it's because I need more time to figure some things out.

(please share this so people see it, i hate to ask but so much effort was put it. Thank you <3)

#good omens #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fandom

[esthermitchell-author]

Does it count if you've been told your whole life that you're rotten, evil, and/or worthless, and treated as such (prayed at/over at every turn, exorcised, had holy water flung iin the face, and told to repent for very reasonable questions about the Bible and Christianity, and finally being told "you're going to Hell" and "even Jesus can't save you")?

����

Over the years since I got away from all that bullshit, I've decided for myself that if those are the kind of people getting into Heaven, I'd much rather go to Hell. (not that I believe in Heaven and Hell, myself)

you ever feel like you were born with something rotten inside you and if people get close enough they’re gonna find out

[esthermitchell-author]

Still here... Brainrot and all

Just thought I should check in and let everyone who's interested in knowing know that, while I've been silently lurking in the corner observing (I do that a lot), I am in fact still here. My brain is still as rotted by Good Omens as ever, and I am skulking closer to finished on my updates / explicit version of "Born of Starlight."

Life has just rudely interrupted. The most recent catastrophe (and believe me, to someone whose lungs struggle when the ambient temperature exceeds 75 F and who lives in a desert -- year don't ask -- it's a catastrophe) involves the fact the A/C crapped out yesterday, and won't be fixed until (hopefully) Sunday. Breathing problems leads to lowered creative ability, which means no writing.

Here's hoping I can get back on track, once the A/C is restored and I can breathe without feeling like I'm drowning.

In the meantime, I'm just going to rewatch Good Omens a few more times and scroll my Tumblr feed looking for more amazing stuff from the rest of you, if that's okay. 😉

#good omens #good omens fandom #gomens #gomens fandom #go fandom #fanfic #good omens fanfic #gomens fanfic #go fanfic

[esthermitchell-author]

Yup! Encouragement keeps us going. Whether you're reading fanfics or original fiction (ie, books & graphic novels), you might not be aware of the impact your words have on an author who might be struggling with Imposter Syndrome or wondering why they bother writing, anymore. I know most people think "yeah, well, how can my words possibly matter to an author? They probably don't even read them."

TRUST ME. We read them. A bad review can scuttle our entire year. A good one (especially an encouraging one that proves you've actually paid attention and are interested in what we're doing) can motivate us more efficiently than anything else on the planet. Remember -- we might write because we just have stories to tell. But we SHARE what we write in order to connect with YOU, the reader (at least, I do. Guess I can't speak for everyone on that one, but it's been the consensus of most of my fellow authors I've spoken with over the years). Prove to us that we're connecting, and it can power entire series' worth of books into being.

You comments matter.

There’s a fic on fanfiction(.)net that I’ve kept tabs on for years to see if it’s been updated or not. While I’m no longer even in the fandom it’s written for, it just has one of the greatest storylines I’ve ever read. Last time it was updated was 2011.

The other day, I decided to reread the entire thing and leave a very in-depth review of what I thought of each chapter. I also mentioned how I started reading it when I was 13 and am now 21, but always came back to see if it was ever finished because I loved it so dearly.

Today, said author sent me a private message saying that her analytics showed that the story was still getting views even after all these years, but no one ever bothered to leave reviews other than “update soon!!!”, so she never felt motivated enough to finish it. She said that me reviewing every single chapter with lengthy paragraphs made her cry and meant the world to her. She also mentioned that she felt encouraged to write the two remaining chapters needed to complete the story and that she would send me a message the night before she updates the fic.

I’m literally sobbing. I’m so excited :’)

Please always remember to leave a review when reading fanfiction!!! It means a lot to a writer.

#fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #fandom #original fiction #novels #graphic novels #authors of tumblr #writing #good omens fanfic #gomens fanfic #go fanfic #original characters

[esthermitchell-author]

THIS.

I am a chronically-ill person. I have been living with compromised genetics and a shitty immune system / autoimmune problems my entire life. I was diagnosed with PTSD, Anxiety, and clinical depression before I was out of my teens. In more recent years, I've even had to contend with cancer (still not to my "cancer free" benchmark, yet -- got 3 more years for that, and I'm not even 50 yet).

I did my best for decades to be a "contributing member of society" (other people's words, not mine), and you know what I got for it? Sicker.

I tried for decades to keep up with a ridiculuous publishing schedule because "publish or perish" sadly isn't for the academic community alone, and as a published author, if you're not already a household name or multiple top of the NYT Bestseller List author, if you're not putting out a new book every 1-3 months, you're forgotten before you even get a foot in the door. You know what I got for it? Yup... Sicker.

About 8 years ago, I made a decision that's impacted my life in a lot of ways. No, they're not all good. But at least for the moment I only have to contend with the death spiral started by all those years of being a "contributing member of society" and a brutal publishing pace.

Now, I finish a book when I finish a book. I publish said book when I feel its ready to be published. Am I ever likely to be well-known as an author? Doubt it. Doubt I'll ever even see mid-list, to be honest.

But at least I finally figured out my balance in life is to write when my health is up to it, and not beat myself up for the days it's everything I can do to get out of bed and my body or hands hurt so bad the mere idea of sitting at a computer or typing makes me break down in tears.

I'm more grateful than I can say to the people who are still patiently waiting on my fanfics, despite the fact I intended to have them done months ago, and even more so to the wonderful readers who have stuck by my original fiction, despite some of my series being a year or more behind on any new releases.

I'm doing my best. And I wish as much as you do that my best could be a helluva lot faster, but this is where we are.

There’s no such thing as work-life balance for neurodivergent & chronically ill people.

This is because everything in my life requires work:

maintaining friendships

keeping up with my hygiene

managing bills

making money

remembering my basic needs

sleeping regularly

outputting creatively

All requires some aspect of work for me.

And when everything in your life requires work, your balance goes out the window.

If you're neurodivergent and overwhelmed — I see you.

If you're chronically ill and overwhelmed — I see you.

You're not dysfunctional.

You're not incapable.

You're doing your best.

#fanfic #fanfiction #original fiction #authors of tumblr #writers of tumblr #good omoens fanfic #gomens fanfic #go fanfic

[esthermitchell-author]

WIP Tag Game!

If you’re tagged, make a new post (don’t reblog this one) and share 1-2 sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context— Let your followers guess!

So, I already have titles for my WIPs, but I'm just going to label them WIP # and you all, dear readers, can guess what I might have titled them, too. 😉

WIP 1

Crowley's attention shifted to Jem, and the demon's expression softened, a gentle smile flickering at his lips as he smoothed his left hand over her curls, the lowering sunlight winking off the gold of his wedding band. "You're assuming she'd have let us leave her behind."

WIP 2

A small, nervous laugh pulled from Aziraphale. Most of the time, it made him so happy they knew each other well enough to read the other's mood. Today, he kind of wished they didn't.

WIP 3

This was the absolute last time he would attempt crossing the English Channel the way humans did it.

WIP 4

Hellfire burned through his vision, fueled by a rage he seldom felt toward humans, and had never felt toward a child. He'd never been into hurting kids. But he'd neveer dealt with a kid who crossed a line he couldn't forgive, before, either.

#good omens WIP tag #good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #azicrow #fanfic

[esthermitchell-author]

Hi Esther,

I am late to the game and want to get in on this GO NSFW fic book you're creating! I went to your site and I saw was your other published work (congrats btw). Where do I go for the GO book and may I preorder?

😃

It's not available yet. Once it is, it will be available both on AO3 in their format and for download in .EPUB from my website for free. I'll be posting an announcement once it's available.

There will be both the fluffy and the NSFW version available both places/formats. The only reason I'm doing the .EPUB format is because I know there are people who, like myself, have trouble with smaller fonts, and AO3's small font size can be somewhat restrictive to those with visual limitations.

There's no need to pre-order, because it will be available for free to everyone who wants a copy. I'll post the "how to download" when it becomes available. :)

And thank you for your interest in my site and my other books!

#Hope that helps! #born of starlight

[esthermitchell-author]

The Additions (or Why I'm Not Done, Yet)

So, for those of you wondering why it's taking me so bloody long to get done adding a few spicy scenes to my GO fanfic book... Weeellll... It turned into a little more than that. In making a couple of alterations necessary for one or two of the sexy scenes, I stumbled over a few places were scenes important to the overall story or character arcs got skipped. Things I didn't mean to or want to leave out or leave to an offhand mention later on (the offhand mentions were actually supposed to remind me to go back and fill in the scenes... then I got ahead of myself and in my excitement to share with y'all, I sort of forgot to write those scenes 🤦‍♀️🙄).

So, please bear with me. I really am trying to make this the best version it can be (and I will be re-uploading the non-explicit version with the important additional scenes that aren't sex-oriented, once I'm done with the additions). If you're wondering what I mean, here's an important scene that ended up missing from the original release... This is supposed to happen right after the lectern sculpture scene, but at first writing, I was busy weaving scenes from other stories into the overall book, and so I left myself "note" in the following chapter (the Christmas scene) to come back and fill in -- and then never did. It (and it's follow-up scene about the crepes mentioned later) will be in the update of BOTH versions of the book. But, for now, you can enjoy this part, right now... (Scene Under Cut)

Crowley leaned against the open doorway into the kitchen -- Aziraphale miracled it into being back during the pandemic out of boredom and a desire for something to nibble on -- watching his angel putter about making himself a cup of tea. Aziraphale swore there was a whole process to making a proper cup of tea. Personally, Crowley never touched the stuff, but he was relieved Aziraphale was starting to enjoy his little Earthly rituals and pleasures.

"You know it's okay to eat, yeah?" He rested his head on the door frame, letting his gaze drift over the angel's still sparse -- compared to before, anyway -- form.

Aziraphale tensed for a fraction of a second, but it was enough Crowley caught it, before the angel half-turned his way with a vaguely exasperated smile. "Why do you keep trying to get me to eat?"

Crowley blinked in surprise, sucking in a small breath against the instant clench of pain at the sorrow and fear he could see buried deep in his angel's eyes. "Because food makes you happy. You're not happy, angel, and I don't know how else to fix it."

Aziraphale startled. "Of course I'm happy! You're all I need to be happy, Anthony--"

"Not that kind of happy, angel." Crowley sighed heavily. "Happy with yourself, I mean."

Aziraphale lifted one eyebrow. "And you think I need food to be happy with myself?"

"I dunno." Crowley straightened from where he slouched, tension crackling through him. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. First time I ever saw you enjoy any-blessed-thing was that night in Job's cellar. Every time you eat, it's like you're back there, again, enjoying yourself for the first time. You have no idea how much I love seeing that."

Aziraphale turned back to what he was doing, leaving Crowley at a loss for how to get through to him. Except, maybe... Crowley slipped his mobile phone from his blazer pocket and sent a quick text to Maggie.

He glanced up as he heard the clink of metal against ceramic, before Aziraphale turned from the counter where the kettle was, cup and saucer in hand and a soft smile on his face. "I really do appreciate you looking out for me, love, but it's entirely unnecessary for me to eat, and I'm perfectly fine."

As if that wasn't, as the Americans liked to say, the biggest crock of shit he'd ever heard. Still, Crowley bit back his argument. He was already forming a plan. He knew he was right, and he wasn't giving up on this.

As Aziraphale headed back toward the sitting area with his tea -- all the proof Crowley needed that his angel wanted his creature comforts, but was denying them for some reason -- Crowley's phone pinged in his hand, and he glanced down at the message on his screen.

MAGGIE: You want Justine's number? Why?

Crowley rolled his eyes and typed, It's a surprise. For Aziraphale.

MAGGIE: Oh, that's brilliant! How about I just give her your mobile number, and she can contact you when she's not busy?

Fine.

Tucking his phone away, Crowley was just turning to head out to snuggle up with his angel when something caught his eye he'd never noticed before. What he'd always assumed was just another desk or table covered in books, wasn't anything of the sort. He should have recognized the shape on sight -- he blamed the piles of books masking its appearance -- since he'd spent close to a decade after the Great War playing one in speakeasies and cathouses of the American South, trying to stir up all sorts of Hellish mischief during Prohibition.

"Hey, angel?"

There was a moment of silence, before the clink of teacup against saucer, and then, "What is it?"

"Do you actually have a Steinway upright piano tucked back here? When did you get it?"

"Oh." The quiet rustle of movement reached him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Aziraphale pause in the open doorway from the sitting area.

"I acquired that shortly after the Great War. The quiet around here was... unsettling. Music helped chase away the memories, so I had the idea I might learn to play the piano. I thought it would help." A flush stole up the angel's face, even as he shrugged. "I'm afraid I never did quite master it. I have the ear, but kept tripping over my own fingers. I keep it tuned and maintained the way the purveyor said I should, but I'm afraid it mostly just sits there, like... well, like that."

The desire to feel the ivory keys beneath his fingers again, and to provide his angel some kind of comfort, settled in Crowley. "Mind if I give it a go?"

Aziraphale blinked at him, confusion clear in his cerulean eyes. "You play?"

"Haven't done since the '20s, but I can't be that rusty, yeah?"

A small smile flickered at the angel's lips, before he waved a hand and the books covering the piano disappeared. "By all means."

As Aziraphale headed back to the sitting area, Crowley slid out the bench, flipped open the lid over the keys, and flexed his fingers as he tried to remember if he ever learned any soothing melodies. He didn't have much of a refined playing style, since the only places he'd ever played before didn't have anywhere near the level of musical sophistication his angel did.

Here goes nothing.

Settling onto the bench, he placed his fingers over the keys, drew a breath, and began gently setting his fingers down over the keys. For being over a hundred years old, the piano's notes played true and clear. Not that he was surprised. His angel was meticulous at keeping things in tip-top shape. Crowley closed his eyes and let the sweet notes he drew from the old piano flow through him, his love of the music, and of the angel for whom he played, inspiring the placement of his fingers.

After a time, Crowley allowed the notes to fall off gently, until silence filled the room again as he hung his head, uncertain if he felt more exhausted or elated by the emotions he'd poured out in that melody.

"That was beautiful."

The sound of his angel's voice drew his attention, and he turned his head to look at Aziraphale -- now seated at the table watching him, so much gentle, healing love on his face, all Crowley could do was turn on the piano bench and open his arms. Aziraphale came to him without even a flicker of hesitance, and a grateful sigh shuddered from Crowley as he wrapped his arms around his angel's waist and leaned into what remained of the soft cushion of his angel's body. He felt Aziraphale's arms on his shoulders, and the stroke of one hand through his hair, even as the angel pressed gentle kisses to his forehead and temples. He loved this angel, whatever corporation he took, but his throat tightened around pained tears as he wished fervently to have his angel back -- the angel who thrived surrounded by books, who sighed happily at a cup of cocoa or tea, whose eyes lit at the sight of good food and who could never say no to sweets. The angel who got pleasure from comfortable, well-worn clothes, a glass of good wine, and a stirring symphony.

So far, Crowley had seen only glimpses of his angel, since Aziraphale came back. And he was desperate to break through whatever was holding the angel back.

"Please," Crowley rasped brokenly, nuzzling his face against his angel's body. "Please eat, angel. I'm begging, here."

Aziraphale sighed softly, and Crowley felt the press of the angel's kiss against the top of his head. "I'm sorry, love. I can't. I just... I can't."

"Please." Crowley tightened his grip, his fingers digging into warm flesh covered in soft cloth. "Please, just give me a chance to remind you."

He felt the angel's fingers in his hair, then another small sigh, and a kiss to his forehead, before Aziraphale murmured, "All right. Only for you, my love."

#See what I mean? Important scenes missing #born of starlight #good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #azicrow #ineffable spouses #fanfic #good omens fanfiction #gomens #gomens fanfic #go fanfic #good omens fan fiction #good omens fic

[esthermitchell-author]

😂😂

Yup. Sounds about right. 😏❤️

🐍🪽❤️

Aziraphale is the ideal partner for Crowley

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 1 : here

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 2 : here

[esthermitchell-author]

Creating fanart from fanfiction

The question has been raised several times about whether or not artists should ask fanfic authors before creating drawings/art off of fanfic pieces.

I'll be blunt -- have at it! If you're interested in creating art off of any of my fanfic, go for it! I'm all for it (I love art and artists, and we have some of the most talented artists here in the GO/Ineffable fandom. I'm seriously in awe of you all!), and would be super excited if anyone wanted to draw art off my fanfic (or hell, even my original fiction... I'd probably have a little squeal, then a cry, then a faint dead away if someone cared enough about my original fiction to want to draw it...lol Yeah, I'm super emotional about this stuff). Only thing I'd ask is that you tag/link me, so I can see it when you've done it, because I'd share the shit out of that. lol

And, if any of you lovely artists want to know what the scene I would MOST want to see drawn, from any of my GO fanfic, would be, here it is... from Born of Starlight (yes, I originally wrote the whole short story this came from solely so I could write this scene, because it was living in my head so much):

Queen's Somebody to Love filled the bookshop, along with a young girl's laughter. Aziraphale smiled indulgently as he closed the front door behind himself and stopped, letting the all-consuming adoration he felt sweep through him as he watched his demonic husband and their five-year-old daughter dance in a slow circle in the middle of the shop floor, Jemima's bare little feet resting with a trusting wiggle of toes atop Crowley's boots, her delicate little hands gripped carefully but securely in Crowley's larger ones.

Crowley's head was tipped forward, his shoulder-length hair -- he'd been growing it out a little these past few years -- falling forward to mask his expression, but Aziraphale could feel the love pouring from the demon. Jem, for her part, was looking back up at her lee-lee with the absolute, unquestioning trust and love a child has for a parent who dotes on them. They were the study of serenity, set to the backdrop of Freddie Mercury's voice, and the sight of them filled Aziraphale with so much tranquility and love he blinked his eyes against the sting of tears.

#good omens #good omens fandom #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable spouses #ineffable parents #jemima crowley-fell #fanfic #fanart #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanart #gomens fanfic #gomens fanart #go fanfic #go fanart #aziracrow #azicrow

[esthermitchell-author]

I Promise...

I promise, promise promise I am almost done with my explicit version of Born of Starlight. I'm just having trouble with this last scene.

In the meantime... This isn't exactly "explicit" but it's one of the scenes I've added that's a little more spicy near the beginning of the book. I might just add this (or part of it, anyway) into both versions of the book. We'll see.

In the meantime... Enjoy! (As always, let me know what you think. Is there something I should change or tone down? Does something not read right? I'm always interested in feedback to help improve things)... And, as always, the story part's below the cut.

Crowley drew a deep breath as he stepped inside the bookshop for the first time in eight months, and blinked in surprise to find it smelled exactly the same as it always had. Like old books, printer's ink, and bergamot, tinged with just a trace of starlight. It smelled, in a word, like Aziraphale.

"Feels like home, doesn't it?" The soft query, from beside him, zapped through Crowley like lightning.

Did it feel like home? Maybe... But no. No, the place didn't feel like home. That title belonged solely to the being at his side, one soft, warm hand currently resting on his bicep.

Turning, he lifted his hand and did what he hadn't dared do in eighty-three years. He laid his hand very gently against his angel's neck, letting his thumb brush back-and-forth over one cheek. He nearly groaned at the feel of that skin -- even softer than he remembered -- and his knees quaked with the desire to drop to the floor right there and beg his angel for even just one night. One night of pure, hedonistic pleasure. One night of giving in to every carnal desire he could think of, had ever witnessed and wondered if his angel would like something like that. Only...

Only, he already knew one night would never be enough. Wasn't that why -- aside from the fact they were both too drunk at the time -- he'd ultimately backed off, in 1941? Even just that one kiss had taught him that when it came to his angel, even eternity would never be enough. And Crowley wasn't quite sure he was worthy of even a night.

Aziraphale released a small breath, scented with the sweetness of the peppermint tea he drank during their meeting, and those pale blond lashes fluttered over cerulean eyes so hazy with desire, the angel looked almost drunk. "Anthony, I want... I need..."

The confusion in Aziraphale's eyes finally broke Crowley. With a small, muttered oath he wasn't even sure he said aloud, he crushed his mouth down over the soft lips he'd been trying not to dream about for eight months, and for eighty-two years before that. There was a small sound from Aziraphale -- maybe surprise, maybe relief. Definitely not protest -- before the angel melted against him, shaking hands latching onto fistfuls of his clothing as if Aziraphale was afraid he might disappear.

No fear of that ever happening. As long as Aziraphale let him stay, Crowley intended to be right here in this bookshop, waiting. He'd had enough of trying to avoid the truth.

For now, Crowley ate up every whimper, glutted himself on every gasp and sound his angel made. Then, on a whispered groan torn from both of them, they broke apart. Crowley rested his forehead against Aziraphale's, unwilling to move any further apart.

A soft, breathless chuckle left the angel, bringing the demon's eyes open to a sight that nearly dropped him where he stood. Pure love radiated from the angel in his arms, even as Aziraphale released his grasp on Crowley's shirt and reached up to gently remove the demon's shades with a murmured, "I thought someone promised me he'd never kiss me again while he was wearing these. That's two you owe me."

Huffing out a small laugh of his own, Crowley snagged the glasses from Aziraphale's hands and tucked them into his blazer pocket, even as a heated smirk crossed his face. "Does that apply to anywhere specific?"

Aziraphale blinked at him in confusion. "You mean outside? But we've never--"

"I meant," Crowley murmured, shifting to nuzzle his face in against his angel's neck, flicking out his tongue to trace the subtle wrinkles and folds there, getting a taste of the skin he'd been going crazy fantasizing about for decades. Aziraphale's scent -- beneath that ridiculous cologne some idiot human talked him into -- had been driving him crazy for... well, probably millennia, if he really stopped and thought about it, but definitely since 1941. "Does that rule only apply to your mouth?"

Aziraphale trembled in his arms. Actually fucking trembled. "I... I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Crowley lifted his head, searching his angel's expression for any hint he was up to some game. The guileless innocence staring back at him shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did, he supposed. Except... Aziraphale was a reader, and he didn't discriminate in his reading material. Surely, in amongst all the books around them, was one or two books on sex. Maybe even some erotic literature...

He swallowed hard as he realized just how innocent his angel really was. "You're serious? You've never..."

Aziraphale flushed, and the tight quiver of his jaw as he glanced away was a clear message he wasn't just embarrassed. Something about that question was crushing to his angel. He looked ready to...

"Don't cry, angel. Please, don't cry." Panic stuttered through Crowley. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"We can't all be beautiful beings desired by everyone and willing to bed anyone."

The words were short and sharp, like a stiletto straight to Crowley's heart. Anger welled up inside him. He was done with miscommunication and arguments that ended up with them being at odds for bloody months at a time.

"There are so many things wrong with that, angel, I don't even know where to fucking start. First, no matter what you think of me, I haven't bloody spent the last six thousand years hopping from bed to bed, for Satan's sake. Yeah, I'm the bloody Serpent of Eden, the Great-fucking-Tempter. But I tempt them to do each other, not me. I've never bloody done this before, either. I've just seen enough of it to know the mechanics. I figured... Oh, for fuck's sake, you're the most brilliant being I've ever known, and you read like literally every-fucking-thing, angel! I figured somewhere over the millennia, you had to have read some of that erotic fiction shit. I figured you at least knew as much as me. And second, who the bloody Heaven has been telling you you're not beautiful, or fucking desirable? Do you even know what I'd give to have you?"

Crowley stopped, his breath heaving as he fought the trembling combination of rage and need forming a tight knot in the center of his being. That was the most he'd allowed himself to say in eight fucking months. The most vulnerable and blunt he'd ever allowed himself to be, to anyone. He really wanted to put his shades back on, because he couldn't even bear to look at Aziraphale, right now. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the angel's beautiful face, those heart-stopping eyes, as radiant joy and love beamed from Aziraphale.

A soft smile flickered at the angel's lips, and he stretched out a hand to lay against the center of Crowley's chest, right above his thundering heart. Crowley could feel the tremble of that warm weight against his chest, and it grounded him, even before the flow of the voice that always soothed him washed over him.

"What would you give?" Aziraphale whispered, his voice full of wonder.

A hissing growl ripped from Crowley, the beautiful violence of the storm within him freed as he snagged his angel by the shoulders and pinned him against one of the pillars. Yanking the angel's bowtie loose and off, he flung it away as he attacked Aziraphale's throat with nipping kisses he fully intended to leave marks. Against the soft, tantalizing flesh, he hissed, "Everything. I would give fucking everything to have you."

A gasp from behind them broke them apart, and it was only then Crowley remembered they weren't alone here, anymore. He swore under his breath, even as Aziraphale flushed and eased away from him like he was trying to pretend they weren't halfway to ripping each other's clothes off.

#Keep calm and ❤️on! 🐍🪽❤️ #good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #azicrow #ineffable spouses #fanfic #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #born of starlight #gomens fanfic #gomens fandom #go fanfic #go fandom #good omens BARELY suitable for work 😏😉

[esthermitchell-author]

While I do believe it is both possible and likely that at least part of what happened in the Final Fifteen was indeed the normal (utterly human) failure of a couple to properly communicate in a tense situation, I do agree that there were no good options for how that was going to play out (and we're still not 100% sure how it DID play out, and won't be until S3 is released), because let's face it: sometimes, the only choice you get is which is the lesser of two evils/ which is likely to potentially end well in the long run, even if it has to end badly in the moment.

I also believe the coded method they've had to develop to communicate under normal circumstances (or as normal as theirs ever get) utterly failed them both in the Final Fifteen, and everything got tangled and twisted around in a way that was completely outside of their control. This happens to even the most stable and communicative of couples, at times, and most human couples don't have quite the same level of threat constantly hanging over their heads, making every tense/stressful conversation ten times worse.

However, the thing I most whole-heartedly agree with, and have from the beginning, is I hate the term "Ineffable Idiots" just as much as I despise the term "Ineffable Divorce." Neither is true. Neither is kind. And without the whole story (which we don't yet have) neither carries any level of accuracy.

They will always be "Ineffable Husbands" or "Ineffable Spouses" to me (or, in my headcanon/fanfic, post Jemima, "Ineffable Parents" 😏)

This isn't the worst take, but I'm getting tired of people saying Aziraphale and Crowley just need to communicate and calling them "ineffable idiots".

First, because it's not their fault they can't communicate. As in literally *can't*. As in, if they ever said what they were actually thinking, they would be destroyed for it. That's not their fault.

And second, because the true problem is their horrendous circumstances and their evil enemies, not their communication. There is no good way the Final Fifteen could have happened. There were no good options. Even if they had communicated, they would never have been allowed to end up happy together and go off into the sunset.

And finally because "idiot" is an ableist term. But unfortunately l do not have the spoons to take that on lol.

[esthermitchell-author]

Please, please, PLEASE someone tell me I can buy a print of this from the artist, somewhere! I've been watching for an announcement it was up for sale, so I can complete my wall (I'll share a photo once I have the prints I want all on display.

he is half of my soul, as the poets say ♡

#I want a print of this so bad! Someone tell the artist!

[esthermitchell-author]

I quit arguing with mine decades ago. These days, I just let it write what it wants to, and eventually we work our way back to the parts that got skipped... and everyone is happier for the lack of stress.

Me: Okay, Brain. Think about what happens next in this chapter.

Brain: *Skips three chapters ahead*

Me: No, no. This one, this chapter, the one we are writing right now.

Brain:.......*47 scenes forward*

Me: NO

[esthermitchell-author]

😢

Ouch... Right now... with everything I'm dealing with (it was 30 years since my own angel died, just a few days ago)... this one hits HARD.

I haven't been sleeping well at all since Valentine's Day (for a different and yet related reason), and this...

It's beautiful art, OP, but damn you... you destroyed me. Absolutely gutted, me.😭😭😭

It’s hard to sleep

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley

[esthermitchell-author]

Shameless Plug

Don't care what anyone thinks, anymore...

If anyone actually is interested in learning about my published fiction and upcoming projects, you can do so by clicking on the following link:

www.esthermitchell.com

Lots of book excerpts to peruse (or listen to me read *cringe*), and other things to check out. Have fun!

#writing #fiction #original fiction #writing fiction #published fiction #writers of tumblr #authors of tumblr #original characters #original series