#give me fucking clout this instant i swear to god

[mommyashtoreth]

not aboit cro&azi but: opinion on the shallowness and frankly odd pacing of nina and maggies relationship? like one day theyre having stilted conversation, the next maggie is crying over how in love she is.

Hmm. Strokes my wizard's beard. Good question. Good Omens fans have caught on to how much I love the sound of my own voice but not on to the other facet of my deeply annoying yet hilarious and charming personality, which is that I love being contrarian. So, in that fashion, I must disagree with this assessment. As we discovered last night it's been a while since I've watched goomer (I may rewatch it soon, I may not, who knows) but I still think it's abundantly clear that Maggie has a huge crush on Nina from afar, and uh. this is gonna sound crazy but when you have huge unrequited crushes on people it can make you nervous and awkward when you talk to them. Idk I come from an Az-and-Crowley school of relationships myself, where you hang out with someone for eight kajillion years as Totally Platonic Girl Best Friends until one day you just fucking snap you NEED to fuck them so badly, but lots of people experience relationships the way Maggie does, it's a suuuuper common romance trope, and that doesn't make it bad writing! I think we're just so used to seeing this kind of trope be applied to straight relationships and the "platonic gal pals for eight kajillion years until one day you just fucking snap" thing be applied to gay relationships that people aren't ready for this "awkward stuttering and blushing because he looked at me! He let me borrow his pencil!" sort of trope being applied to a wlw relationship. I don't really think their relationship is oddly paced at all, it feels "awkward" because it IS awkward. Nina is someone who, like, barely knows Maggie exists, was in a presumably-monogamous relationship up until very recently, and got a bunch of water dumped on her and then had a trade meeting turned into a Regency ball because these two freaks who are her and Maggie's narrative foils can't just talk to each other normal. And she reacts normally to that I think! I don't think their relationship is badly written (it's probably paced better than, like, Newt and Anathema's, for instance, but I understand the difference in tone between s1 and s2 making those feel like two different cases), it's just yknow, under weird circumstances. Idk I just think it's funny how many goomenheads are completely convinced that Crowley is somehow in total unrequited gay love with Aziraphale (who literally wants him back so badly it makes me sick), and yet I'm here talking about how Maggie is kind of in semi-unrequited gay love with Nina and that's Fine. It's a good character thing. They parallel Az and Crowley in a lot of ways (a romantic obsessed with something near-obsolete who Doesn't Drink and a fast-living cynic who deals with bad shit by instantly initiating Wine Drunk With No Man To Feel Up Wednesday; they're even cast to kind of Look similar which I think is funny), but the structure and context of their relationship is not the same and thus cannot be compared. It's not a Writing Flaw or a Plot Hole or anything to me, it's just the simple difference between "crush before friends" and "friends before crush"

#ask #anon #good omens #gomens #good omens 2 #nina #maggie #nina good omens #maggie good omens #good omens meta #give me fucking clout this instant i swear to god

[alexandraburton-x]

@zachwinthrop

       his eyes diminished to taut lines. his heart jolted to and fro, gaily as it went, but something much darker encumbered her chest and he was beginning to see its gloom eclipse her auric rondures. the ample innards of his cheeks clamped between rows of argent pearls, urging dregs of champagne to ooze from the skin, urging the pain to alert the receptors in his brain. anxieties arose that perhaps the games they were playing were not the same, and once they collided, it could be devastating. he needed to be S H A R P E R. for an inane moment, he desired nothing more than to reach out and touch her. feel the pulse throbbing beneath unsullied flesh and align his to match.        zach’s attention became diverted among the arising of a challenge from a competitor he could crush in an instant, should he need to. he almost pitied him. zach’s spine erected slowly, eyes connecting with asher’s. ❝ that is a good question, asher, ❞ he mocked, with all the innocence of a child playing upon his smile. alex continued to eject barbed falsities hoping that one of the thorns would puncture his sorry heart, but he was too occupied with trying to deduct her mindset to feel the sting. she deserted the threesome, and two pairs of eyes colossal with anticipation settled upon him. at this point, he had almost omitted faith’s presence from his precinct entirely.       ❝ to be honest with you, asher, i wanted to F U C K her so badly that it was all i could think about for weeks. but she wasn’t having it, you know? like you said, ❞ his eyes widened mockingly, ❝ complicated, isn’t she? but eventually she caved, just like she did for you, and the rest is history. in alex’s words, that was practically a lifetime ago. but this is now. did you ever stop to wonder why she’s never mentioned me? ❞ zach stands, approaches asher, then bends to his knees until they’re eye-level with one another. he wasn’t sure his risk would pay-off, but he took it, because he couldn’t live his life wondering what the look on his face would be if he didn’t. his voice lowers to a whisper that only asher can hear. ❝ did you ever wonder what that tattoo on her hip was? Z-J-W. that’s all me, asher. ❞ he tilts his head in the direction she fled. ❝ everything you curl up at night with, everything you play happy families with, that’s all ME. and i swear to you, you don’t know the half of it. if you think i’m a handful, she’s the weight of the fucking world and it’s about to come crashing down and break your fucking shoulders. ❞       he stands and turns to the two of them like a famously esteemed host, grinning bashfully. ❝ well! you both heard the lady. if she comes back to a champagne-less table, it’s all of our necks on the line. and a promise is a promise. ❞ he pivots away and saunters to the bar, positioning himself just right to catch her as she exits the restroom. he orders a fresh bottle of ❝ whatever the fuck the little brunette ordered earlier, please, ❞ and caught her by the hook of the arm as she emerged through the doorway. ❝ hi, gorgeous. what’s with the attitude? i thought we were f r i e n d s now, ❞ he utters playfully into the shell of her ear. and as if the gods themselves were watching over him, the opening notes of hotel californiabegan to ring through the lounge speakers. he suddenly becameINFECTED. he waltzes her toward the booth, spinning her body beneath his raised arm in a twisted dance, displaying her to asher and faith as though they were four close companions sharing a laugh, singing to the group, a private zach winthrop show attracting the eyes of other guests. ❝ baby, it’s ourS O N G ! ❞ he crows spiritedly, loud enough for the group to hear, giggling to himself. and for that moment, the song does what it always does for him – elevated his spirits to near euphoric, the haunting lyrics chiming between his ears acting as some kind of temporaryspell.

        ebullient champagne coursed through her negligible tenement like calescent cruor deluging through a chasmal wound. she felt I L L & it wasn’t because she was lush with sweet liquor. alexandra nudged the restroom door open, arching ( s w a n k ) curves to determine if any intoxicated patrons lingered within the stalls. they were uninhabited and for a moment, she felt placated by the silence. she placed a hand on her stomach, the other outstretching to balance upon the frosted, marble sink. was it as temperate as she perceived? she inhaled, haltingly drawing in cool breaths to soothe the fire that consumed her embodiment. ❝ it’s fine, you’re fine, ❞ she persuaded herself, well acquainted with the afflictive symptoms of P A N I C. her heart thrashed against her chest and it ached, pinching and twisting within its delicate confinement. i’m dying; ❝you’re not dying, you’re breathing. you’re fine, snap out of it. ❞ alex careened on lux four – inch heels, her head parallel with the tiled floor.          her coping skills were I N U T I L E, pointless when pressed against the thought of having to face him again. he couldn’t help but to be vile. he couldn’t ( h e l p ) but to torture her, even though he explicitly expressed his disinterest in her for the time being. so, why couldn’t he just leave her be? she was T R Y I N G to the best of her ability, but he had to keep prodding and pushing. alex frantically reached for the sink faucet, her eyes fixated upon the pallid flooring as the water rushed over her fingertips. meanwhile, asher swilled the bitter taste of bourbon between his cheeks, intrigued by zach’s persistent interest in H I S girlfriend. he sneered softly, his foot deliberately pouncing up and down as he awaited a nauseating response from the psychopath. i wanted to F U C K her so badly, of course he did. asher curled his fingers into tight fists, knuckles kissed lily white, & ready to clout zach’s inviting jaw, but he resisted.          he couldn’t – with a budding reputation, the last kind of headline he desired was one that pined him against an industry veteran; no matter how satisfying and how deserving it was. ❝ tattoo? it’s actually funny that you mention it, because i can’t say that i’ve ever seen it. she must have had it covered, ❞ he lied with a twist of hisimpeccably chiseled features. ❝ and i just suspect she never mentioned you because you weren’t worth the conversation. you had such an intense relationship, but i never even knew you existed in her world. ❞ asher averted his gaze to the dainty blonde beside him who must have been abhorred at the notion that her charming sovereign was actually a fucking M O N S T E R. what could he say to make it better? if he could have shoved the words back down zach’s throat, he would have.          moments later, alexandra had self – soothed, collecting her composure before she escaped the limits of the quaint restroom. one meager foot in front of the other, she ambled through the lounge like she owned it, lustrous tresses sweeping the curve of her back. her parity, however, had been disrupted by a hot hand coiling around her petite limb. ❝ what the fuck are you doing? ❞ she directed, her brows furrowed together in provocation as he taunted her. ❝ if i wasn’t trying to be your friend, i would have already buried you. consider yourself lucky. ❞ he gripped her lithe silhouette against his, defeating any attempts she may have made to writhe free. ❝ zach, ❞ she whined softly as he paraded her through the bar and back toward their respective dates. ❝ you’re making a fool of yourself. stop it. ❞ the song was P A I N F U L, his display ( e x c r u c i a t i n g ) as he carelessly whipped her around. O U R song; asher’s broken tinctures bore into her.         ❝ really? ❞ he fashioned with a nimble shake of his head. and he’d been so sure he’d won her affection with diligence, but he was only a reminder of what she didn’t have. she’d fucking had it. ❝ what is fucking wrong with you? your girlfriend is R I G H T here. why would you do this? are you that fucked? ❞ her prostrated muscle begged for relief as it pounded, threatening to drag her back into the depths of her angst. ❝ god, give it a – ❞ she suppressed the sonants, terrified they would suffocate her. ❝ don’t do this, ❞ she managed. { you didn’t want me, why are you acting like you can’t fucking live without me? just tell me what you fucking want. }

#( ! ░ — interaction.