Good Omens: The Kitten Incident (Part 1)It started with a kitten.Good Omens: The Kitten Incident (Part 1)3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Many things do, in fact. They rarely make the headlines, as it were, in lieu of certain reports to the proverbial higher-ups (or lower-downs, as the case may be) and are not usually something you'd receive a commendation for.* Nevertheless, you eventually tended to notice that a great many occurrences had a kitten or cat or some other member of the feline subfamily somewhere along their chain of causality.
And so this, as well, started with a kitten.
This particular kitten, a fluffy ginger, had launched itself across the road at a most inopportune moment, and would quickly have become a kitten-shaped splat if Crowley hadn't swerved dramatically, taking the car off the road and into an ornamental pond in the process. The demon shrieked a profanity. His passenger made an 'eep' sound.
As it turned out, the pond was just deep enough for the Bentley to become comfortably submerged in the wake of a melodious glunking and a set of bubbles.
And So We Come Full CircleA nightingale sang in Berkeley square.And So We Come Full Circle3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Hundreds of years later, an angel and a demon perch on the top of a pyramid, feet digging in against hot slanted stone and wings spread up to shield them from the sun.
They look over the blazing white landscape to where the sphinx shimmers in the air.
"Oh dear," Aziraphale says. "That really has worn down a fair bit."
Crowley hums in agreement, looking down at the parched sand below. "Used to be a hell lot greener, too," he mutters. This part of the Nile had dried up a long time ago.
Aziraphale tuts. "This really is quite a shame," he says, for the hundredth time that month. "Do you remember when they built those, dear?
"What, the slavery and oppression and bullwhips? Oh yeah, good times," Crowley grins bitterly. He takes a swig out of the bottle, then passes it to Aziraphale.
Aziraphale looks at the bottle and sighs, then tips his back and drinks out, not bothering to wipe it off first. He fumbles with it, tries to set it down on the angled face
Good Omens: The Kitten Incident (Part 2)It began with a tinkle.Good Omens: The Kitten Incident (Part 2)3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Many things do, broadly speaking, in the sense of being heralded by some foreboding omen or harbinger of fate. Whether it is the sound of trumpets commanding the first march to war, or a levitating stranger with technicolour wings come to tell you awkwardly about that metaphysical one-night-stand you didn't know you'd had, it was strange how great happenings tended to bring their own thunder before the lightning – and unlike more invisible instigators of doom, they almost always went down in the history books.
And so this, as well, began with a tinkle.
This particular tinkle chimed inoffensively from the little brass bell hung against the door and served as a very reliable sign of potentially great annoyances in the uncomfortably close future. If the little brass bell were sentient enough to understand how the sound of it ringing had come to be loathed, and had tear ducts, it would weep.
Aziraphale looked up from his book.*
During Movies .GO.Drive-ins were the only part of American culture that Aziraphale not only recognized, but planted his long sought-after Seal of Approval on.During Movies .GO.4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Unsurprisingly, the idea of cuddling up and watching a movie appealed to the angel to such a high degree that Crowley didn't have the heart (1) to tell him that the main point of a drive-in - as it had been envisioned by the creator, a suspect whom Crowley thought to be about seventeen years old and very bad at getting women to go back ot his place - was to meet ladies and take them back to your place.
Of course, he would drag Crowley along to one while they were there - and with the problems in the Eastern Bloc seemingly ironed into the fabric of existence as 'normal', Crowley hadn't said no. He'd missed the angel's soft smile, even if it was often laced with sarcasm, and at his expense (2).
Aziraphale's cheek lay pillowed against his chest, with his eyes on the flickering movie screen. There were no visible speakers attached to the car (3) but t
Meeting the Parents“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” muttered Dean, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and glancing up and down the street. It was early morning – although, by his American internal time, it was fairly late in the evening – so there weren’t many people about. The few that were scurried down the cold street in a hurry, wanting to be home and dry by the time the inevitable rain came.Meeting the Parents3 years ago in Romance More Like This
“Because,” repeated Castiel patiently, for what was possibly the third time that day, “they are my family, and they wish to meet you. They have been good friends to me, Dean, when the rest of my siblings abandoned me – and even before that. It is right that you meet the people who have made me what I am.” He raised a hand to the plan door in front of him and knocked, even though the sign was turned to ‘closed’.
Dean sighed, peering through the dusty, warped window at the piles of books that lay behind it, stack
Angels Dance to Demons Music : Ch1The acoustics were not the best, Dean decided. It was the low ceiling and the lack of an entire wall that did it. Through the years, the garage has been the birthplace for the majority of the world's musical talents, even the Beetles had to start out somewhere, though Dean thought inwardly that even Ringo in his younger years had had better sense than to nurture his musical genius in a small, damp excuse for a garage. But it was adequate for their band, if they could even call themselves that.Angels Dance to Demons Music : Ch13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The four of them were not the best but they could carry a tune and Crowley was a demon on the guitar. Dean was reduced to bass while Sam expressed his skills on the keyboard quite excellently (though Dean wouldn't say it in earshot of his little brother). Ash, co-founder of their band and soul possessor of a garage that could successfully hold the four of them and a battered drum-kit with enough legroom so that the sardine-feel was marginally lessened, was the drummer. He was brilliant when he ac
Drabbles +Touch+8. Crowley - TouchDrabbles +Touch+3 years ago in Sketches More Like This
It was perfectly stupid. He was a frigging demon, things like that didn't happen. But here he was, holding his hand under the light, spewing insults against the cactus that had dared attack him.
- Now, now, dear. It didn't do it on purpose.
- I swear it hates me. It's going in the bin tomorrow.
- It's a cactus. Now hold still.
With a small grunt, Crowley held out his hand and just sat still as Aziraphale gently took the tiny thorn from his finger.
Good Omens: Reaching Through, Reaching For"Careful, sir, don't want to risk pushing the glass in," a young voice said, and Aziraphale nodded absently to himself. He took a hesitant step backward, but his eyes didn't waver from the glass exhibit and its sole occupant.Good Omens: Reaching Through, Reaching For2 years ago in Drama More Like This
The serpent inside was unlike any other in the world. He was, as best as the experts could tell, closely related to the Asian reticulated python, a non-venomous constrictor with more weight than malice. His long and powerful body glistened with fine scales, mottled patterns of black, green and pale red. His eyes were the brightest gold, and his pupils like slits.
Aziraphale watched him for a while.
Soon after, there were people bustling past him, and a sudden unified direction in the crowd's flow, but he paid them no heed.
"Sir? Sir, we're closing. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the same young voice said, and a hand touched his shoulder.
"I intend to stay a while longer," Aziraphale said softly, his eyes not leaving the cr
nothing personal, you understandAziraphale's clothes are missing.nothing personal, you understand3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had started slowly. A tweed jacket here, a tartan scarf there. Aziraphale blamed it on his own forgetfulness, forget my own head next, he'd murmured, standing in the middle of the bookstore, glancing around for the plaid cardigan he was certain he had just set down.
He tried not to think about it when his favourite pair of worn loafers were the next to disappear (oh well, needed a new pair anyway I guess, he'd said shakily, making himself yet another cup of tea), and he had barely managed to keep his cool when his most comfortable pair of slacks also went missing (they were just here!).
The day he lost his favourite brown argyle sweater, he was nearly inconsolable.
"You mean the thing that made you look like you were wearing a dirty sock?" Crowley had asked, pouring them both a glass of wine.
"I loved that sweater!"
Not even lunch at the bistro that Aziraphale adored could cheer the angel's mo
Good Omens: Bureaucracy Crowley frowned, something he found himself doing more and more frequently as of late. It wasn't anything to do with the angel specifically--just angels in general, especially that twit Michael. More than likely it had to do with their bureaucracy. On any given night, Crowley and Aziraphale could be found having discussions of all sorts, but most had one theme in common (especially after a few bottles of the wine du jour: Bureaucracies Are Frankly A Fitting Punishment For Anything Bad Anyone's Ever Done.Good Omens: Bureaucracy5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
He sank into the stiff-backed chair at the fairly-unused kitchen table. "Exactly how bad of a, a 'discrepancy in ideals' are we talking about?" Crowley asked, rubbing his temples.
"Well, er, shall I list chronologically or alphabetically?" The angel laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair.
"Either. Just get it over with."
"Well, Michael said--oh, how did the dear put it?--he said I'd bet
+Valentine's Day+33 - Jerusalem+Valentine's Day+4 years ago in Sketches More Like This
The air was rank with the cries from Heaven, all the angels looking down at the forlorn shape on the cross. Even if he had been to all ends exiled from the clouds, Aziraphale wasn't so far from grace as to not be able to hear them himself. He wept of course, how could he not? The man hadn't done anything worse than tell people to try and be nice to each-other, that violence wasn't the answer. And yet, for all his trying, he had ended up being nailed to a block of wood.
Three days had passed now. Three days that the angel hadn't moved from where he was standing, shrouded in secrecy from mortal eyes, as he silently looked up at the cross.
The demon had been watching him for a while, drawn to that same place by the sheer power of what was happening. He recognised the angel instantly, but didn't come any closer, just let him grieve in peace. After all, they were no longer on the same side, and never would be again.
1147 - Edessa
The carnage was horrible, blood,
Good OmensFlash bastard demon picking off the small fryGood Omens9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Soaring in the Bentley cos snakes can't fly
Angel bookish refined senses up late in the night
Lost his flaming sword but even so he'll fight
Lady on the village green knickers full of nails
Young descendant lost a book and as she knows she pales
Newt witchfinder wet noodle boy
Shadwell sergeant that gun ain't a toy
Hell's Angels motorbikes dangerous and cold
Looking at you with a stare that's older than old
The Antichrist is among us he's a little kid
Got to end the world let's not and say we did
Three friends and a dog they don't know Revelations
But loving life anchors their deliberations
In the end it all comes down to the first and the last
Adam of original sin you better fix this fast
Blasting Queen on the stereo singing along
Bohemian Rhapsody is really quite your song
G+R First KissG+R First Kiss3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Outside the Cavern Club, at about 2:30 in the morning, nineteen-year-old George Harrison was piling his three drunken bandmates into their car after being shooed away by the club owner. They had finished their set at about ten o'clock, but John and Ringo insisted that they stay for a few pints. Paul agreed, but since George was too young to drink, he decided to just sit with Ringo. George was in love with Ringo, but he couldn't dare tell him that; Ringo would think he was queer.
First George dropped John off at his and Cynthia's house, then Paul at his girlfriend Dot's house. For the next couple of miles, Ringo fiddled with the buttons on the radio, both of them singing along with Little Richard's 'Long Tall Sally'. George liked these moments he and Ringo had alone together. Even if they didn't talk or do much, just being there with Ringo was enough to make him smile.
While My Guitar Gently WeepsBeep....Beep....Beep....Beep....While My Guitar Gently Weeps3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Was I still alive? I figured I must be. How could Heaven hurt this much?
What was that noise? Surely if I was sleeping after tripping and hurting himself, or something along those lines, they'd shut the alarm off, wouldn't they?
I groaned internally and decided it was time to wake up. But to my surprise, I couldn't move. Not only could I not move, there was something over my mouth. Something that felt strangely familiar, though I couldn't place from were.
I tried to open my eyes. There were people moving around me, or at least that's what I deduced they were. Everything was blurry and almost looked warped.
I squeezed them shut again, trying my best to clear my vision. When I opened them again, I could make out two doctors and three men. One of them I almost swore was Ringo, so I assumed the other two were John and Paul. Either John or Paul's gaze drifted towards me, and I wearily shut my
Quotes from Good OmensMuch loved Quotes from Good OmensQuotes from Good Omens4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
A book about the end of the world by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
In the beginning. . . Rain hadn't been invented yet. But clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one.
Crowley: An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards.
God moves in extremely mysterious, not to say, circuitous ways. God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players*, to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time. (*Footnote to above: * ie., everybody.)
Just when you'd think they (humans) were more malignant than ever Hell could be, they could occasionally show more grace than Heaven ever dreamed of. Often the same ind
Sealed With A KissGeorge sighed, glancing around at his handiwork. He'd prepared the perfect romantic night for Ringo and himself to celebrate finishing up their American tour. He'd just finished filling the large tub with steaming water and this supposedly relaxing bubble bath nonsense he'd picked up from the local drug store.Sealed With A Kiss3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Around the bathroom, he'd lit candles and dimmed the lights. He even had a small plate of sweets on a nearby platter. Everything from little caramels and chocolates to hard candies to small pieces of fruit.
While George was admiring the scene he'd set up, Ringo stepped inside the spacious bathroom, a small smile gracing his face.
"Hi, love," George cooed, hurrying to Ringo's side as the drummer toed off his loafers and shrugged off his jacket.
Smile widening, Ringo slid his arms around George's think waist, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, "You really outdid yourself, baby,"
The taller man carefully slid his fingers up the back of Ringo's t shirt, "And we haven't e
While My Guitar Gently Weeps Chp.2I grinned back at him. "See? Just that took my mind off everything."While My Guitar Gently Weeps Chp.23 years ago in Drama More Like This
He laughed and leaned back, keeping my hand. "Good. Oh, and I'm staying here overnight."
I was touched. "For me? Rings, you don't have to do that. You spend enough time in the hospital already."
"It's fine. I want to make sure you're okay." He shrugged, but I could tell he was proud.
I smiled gently at him, then yawned. He chuckled and leaned forward again. "Tired, dear?"
"Yeah." I said. "Surprisingly."
He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep, love. I'll still be here."
I yawned again. "Good. Have a good sleep, Rings...."
The minute he yawned the second time, he leaned his head back and immediately fell asleep. I watched for a minute as he slept, smiling. I turned and started preparing my own bed.
Just at that moment, John and Paul both walked in. I held my finger to my lips and nodded towards him.
"Awww," John said sarcastically, clapping his hands together. Me and Paul both just rolled our
Hotel Rooms and Snuggly MoodsLooking around the small hotel room he and Ringo were sharing for the few days they'd be in this city, whatever it was, George finally spied his boyfriend. The drummer was lounging on the sofa, boots kicked up on the coffee table, nose buried in a book. Of course, seeing Ringo in such a cute looking position, the younger man couldn't help himself.Hotel Rooms and Snuggly Moods3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Dashing to the couch, George immediately stretched out, laying his head on Ringo's lap, staring up at the drummer with large, happy eyes.
Giving his lover a somewhat indifferent glance, Ringo mumbled, "Readin'. You?"
"Watching you." George pouted, poking Ringo's stomach in a desperate plea for attention, "I want my Ringo!"
Shaking his head, Ringo muttered, "Busy reading, love. Later."
The guitarist began whining loudly, trying to capture Ringo's attention once more, "I'm more important!"
Finally, after he realized he wouldn't be reading anymore, Ringo sighed, flinging the large novel to the floor and staring down into George'
Good Omens: DestinationsAnonymous asked you:Good Omens: Destinations2 years ago in Drama More Like This
There were exactly two moments in Crowley's life that he was honestly proud of the effort put into. The first was the moment the Arrangement became official. He had shaken hands with what he would come to think of as 'his' angel, and though both had entertained thoughts of wiping their palms afterward, what came of those scarce seconds of contact was well worth the short-lived personal discomfort. The second was the first time he kissed Aziraphale, which was both better, and lasted much longer.
There came a third moment, many centuries later, when Crowley was not proud at all.
"Defianzzzzzzzzz," Beelzebub was saying, his voice crowding into every corner of the chamber like a swarm of vicious flies. "Very promizzzzzzzing, zzzat. Not many have zzzzze nerve to defy God, even zzose of zzze Original Fallen."
"He's a field ange- agent," Crowley swallowed, mouth dry. "Lotssss
The Lost Santitorium - Chp 9Ringo gets ill once more and the Beatles have to care for their drummer. When they try to find out why Ringo is terrified of going to the hospital, they get alot more than they bargined for...The Lost Santitorium - Chp 94 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Warnings: There is actually nothing in this one I should warn you about. Aprt from angst. So enjoy!
Disclaimers: The Beatles own themselves.
The three Beatles froze. They stared at Ringo, who was beginning to fall asleep on John's chest. "Ringo?" Paul asked tentatively.
The drummer groaned, "What now?"
"What did you mean by that?"
Ringo sighed, frustrated, "By what?"
"By asking us not to take you back to the 'lost sanitorium'?" George asked. Ringo sat up a little.
"I don't know," he said, genuinely confused, "Erm... I dunno why I asked you that..." he frowned for a few moments, thinking. "Maybe... Maybe it was just a dream I had..." he said quietly, still thinking, "I dunno... It's just this really weird, vague memory I have in the back of my head, y'know? It's just a bit strange..
I Need YouRingo rolled over once again. He tried laying on his back, on his side, stomach, other side, turning over again....nothing was working.I Need You3 years ago in Drama More Like This
He slumped onto the pillow. He was tired as bloody hell, but he felt too cold. Too alone.
He sighed. He was almost at the point of taking sleeping pills to knock himself out. He knew he shouldn't condone himself to that, but he was starting to get desperate.
"I know," he murmured. He sat up and turned towards his nightstand, reaching for the corded phone lying on the desk. He twisted the cord uneasily in his fingers while he matched the rings to the beat of his heart.
Briinnnggg......Bu-boom, bu-boom.......Briinnnggg......Bu-boom, bu-boom......
A rattled pick-up startled him. He lost his focus. A slurred voice on the other end of the phone mumbled, quiet as always, "Hello?"
"George?" he whispered. He looked out the window to the moonlight falling through.
"Ringo?" A yawn. "It's nearly one in the morning, love....."
"George.....can you c
Vampire HoursVampire Hours5 years ago in Humor More Like This
George groaned and rubbed at his eyes, stumbling about the kitchen as he tried to find the cups. Once one was acquired, he filled it with water from the tap and sipped slowly, rubbing at his eyes again. He glanced at the clock and cursed whoever invented nightmares. He had to get up early in the morning too. He grumbled under his breath as he made his way back to his bedroom, but stopped outside his roommate's door. The light was still on.
Curiousity got the better of him as he slowly opened the door, peering inside. Ringo was lying on his bed, facing away from him.
"What're you doin' up mate?" he yawned, wandering in.
"Readin'." the older man answered, not looking up. "You?"
"Had another nightmare eh?"
George glowered and muttered something about "bloody psychics". Ringo simply snorted, still not looking up from his book. This intrigued George, who came over and crawled onto the bed to look over his friend's shoulder.
"Well I can see that
I Wanna Be Your Man Chp. 1George couldn't sleep. He really couldn't. He knew why, though. He had the events of the day out of his head.I Wanna Be Your Man Chp. 13 years ago in Drama More Like This
Was Ringo really looking at him almost....flirtatiously? He didn't really know, but for some reason he couldn't get the look out of his head. He was disgusted at it, and at the same time, somehow....he couldn't think of the right word. All he knew was it wasn't bad.
He rolled over onto his back. He was completely comfortable, and exhausted after the five song recordings. His fingertips were still throbbing slightly. But his hazel eyes were wide open, his brain completely functional.
"Agh! Why can't I get some bloody sleep?" he said out loud, covering his face with his hands. He sighed and sat up, flicking on the bedside lamp as he did. He just didn't know what was going on, but with one glance at the numbers 3:47 on the clock, he knew he wasn't getting any sleep tonight.
He stood up and walked into the kitchen, hoping to find something to snack on for a while to kill some time
Passing ShipsIt was just like you to show up late. Honestly, it was just like you. It was the hottest day of the year so far and every green space was full of people trying to get their fix. Daylight junkies. When you live beneath grey clouds for most of your life it starts to take its toll and you take your highs where you can get them.Passing Ships1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
I was a bundle of nerves, as I always was when it came to you, picking at grass and trying to pretend that the fact you were late was totally cool. Instinct told me differently and I knew as soon as you graced me with your presence that things had changed. It was written all over your face - guilt, guilt, guilt - but I was naive and thought you were just shy.
I can't believe that it's been so long since you cracked me open under star spangled skies. I can't believe it's been almost a decade yet I'm still just as aware of you as I was before. They say that time heals but I still feel the wound, fresh and bleeding, beneath my skin. I still can't resist picking at it