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gleafer · 4 months

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Psst! I’ll be doing a AMA on the fabulous @goodomensafterdark Reddit sub this Friday 4p (central)

Be there or be

I’ll post the link when it’s ready!

#illustrator #illustration #digital artist #artist on tumblr #crowley #good omens #good omens art #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #gleafer art #illustration artist #professional #i’m a goblin

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lauramoon1987 · 3 months

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New and old glories

A Little funny Crossover for the nostalgic!

@goodomensafterdark

@gleafer I know you understand me!

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snootflake · 6 months

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A coworker and I bonded over mutual Good Omens obsession. She sends me fanfiction to read, and I send her fanart. We are so hyped to talk about the show, but we are also REALLY busy. SO we set up actual meetings every week on our actual work calendars to block out time and rooms at the office to talk.

But I gotta show you the names of our meetings.

This was the first one that I very hurriedly made:

Nothing special, but very non-suspicious, eh?

… but then I started to get more creative:

… you feel me? 😏 And once I started with this caper, I couldn’t stop:

And finally, becauase all we talk about now is smutty fanfic, I settled on these beauties:

And my favorite:

…I may have spent more time engineering these meeting titles than doing actual work. Crowley would be proud.

If you have the opportunity to be a mischievous little goblin IRL, please go for it.

#love a deranged acronym #good omens #be a goblin #good omens meta #crowziraphale #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #capers #good omens smut #go meta

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meanwhileinthestcu · 2 months

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So, how was your BAFTAs? Oh, mine was really good. Had my first real "bisexual panic," seeing the Tennants make out on the red carpet, so that was quite something. And after a few rewatches (never mind how many), I had a realization...

I like to think of people with big, beautiful, expressive eyes and brains made for absolute mischief as "goblins" or having "goblin energy." And these two, these two people in particular... oh my god...

SERIOUSLY!! (This was the moment that really made me realize it.)

So, I can only speak for myself, but it makes absolute sense to me how someone might find both of these magical creatures extraordinarily attractive. It has made me realize that perhaps I am really not bisexual. I am, in fact...

... goblinsexual.

And while I know some of you will want to ask, if you search your hearts you already know the answer.

David and Anna are quite obviously elves.

#michael sheen #georgia tennant #bafta 2024 #david tennant #anna lundberg #good omens #aziraphale #gif warning #goblin girl #goblin energy

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bluberryfields · 7 months

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"What the hell did you just do?"

Part 2 of whatever. Continuing on with Tadfield Manor scenes, we get to the infamous "Wall" scene. I know it has been analyzed by many so far, but that's never stopped people in the world of literary analysis from spewing their own thoughts on well-reviewed texts. Also, I just want to.

Okay, so once they enter the manor building and see the management training branding, Crowley decides to "help out" and make all of the paintball guns into real machine guns. He snaps his fingers and points double finger guns at the passing "soldier".

Aziraphale is dumbfounded. "What the hell did you just do?

Such language, Angel! And no physical reaction to it like Crowley did when he said "Heaven's sake" in E6. Huh.

Crowley, meanwhile, is thoroughly pleased with himself. They want to battle? He's happy to oblige.

This plus the scare in the courtyard lets us see Crowley enjoying the few perks of being a demon. It's fucking adorable.

Aziraphale cannot comprehend how Crowley - who just miracled a stain away on his coat because it bothered him - could do something so thoroughly evil. And with a jaunty step!

If Aziraphale had pearls, he'd be clutching them so hard.

To which Crowley takes the opportunity to once again point out the flawed binary system of morality. We the audience will see this argument again in the Body Snatcher minisode, so it's fun to see how these two keep having the same old debates throughout time just with different causes with which to start from.

Pointing out hypocrisy while slinking down a hall? Crowley, you delicious tramp.

Aziraphale is still thoroughly horrified, but Crowley concedes with a sigh that everyone will, in fact, be fine. To me, his tone is a mix of disappointment at him not being quite as much of a bastard as he paints himself. He can't really hide his true self from Aziraphale.

I love how he can't stop moving his body. Snakes gonna slither.

Then here is it. The big moment. Smug little Aziraphale feels the need to mention how nice Crowley is underneath his demonic persona.

We now know that this is a reoccurring exchange, where Crowley must defend his title of Big Bad Demon in front of Azi's kind compliments. There's serious consequences to Crowley being labeled "nice" and Azi knows this by now. So why does he keep bringing it up? To provoke Crowley? To finally break him into admitting Azi is right? It's not like Azi can protect Crowley from Hell's wrath, but he pushes anyway.

I thought Crowley was the shit-stirrer in this relationship.

And now my favorite part. Sister Mary shows up and rightly implies these two are about to nail each other through the drywall. But when she recognizes Crowley, he stops her in her tracks.

The sass! It's off the fucking chart! Only an Angel could withstand such a display!

Aziraphale just straightens his clothes and lets the sass go unchallenged because he's still has a bit of self-preservation instincts left.

So I already talked about the "Luck of the devil" line from Aziraphale here, but it truly is a fun moment in the context of the whole scene. Crowley is worked up from the "nice" comment and Aziraphale's seeming refusal to stop analyzing him.

Horny Aziraphale is sassy and Crowley looks like he wants to bite through a door frame.

So, obviously, I've spent way too much time rewatching these scenes, but I do find it so interesting how we see so much of their relationship on display within just a few minutes. The different personality traits to draw them together while also pushing them apart.

The way Aziraphale knows how to work Crowley, who in turns knows how to indulge appropriately. (*cough* bullet catch *cough*)

The way Crowley happily taps into his demonic toolbox to spread a bit of chaos without actually causing serious harm. (*cough* Job *cough*)

The way Aziraphale reflexively tows the party line of Heaven even in the face of Crowley's demonstrations of humanity's instincts. (*cough* all of time *cough*)

And basically the way they bring out the best (and sometimes worst) of each other. Some might say they're a team. Or a group. A group of the two of them.

#good omens #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #david tennant #michael sheen #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens meta #the cutest chaos goblin #luck of the devil #sassy aziraphale #supernatural sass #microcosm of the universe #nice is a four letter word

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goodbyevannyart · 2 months

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Goblin Crowley naps after a hard day of gardening and Goblin Aziraphale brings him a surprise supper of mushrooms.

Also there is a reason why those frogs were keeping an eye on napping Crowley.

[Image description: Sunset in a garden of tulips, irises and daffodils. Fireflies light up the scene. A stream runs through it, with little frogs sitting on rocks in the water. Two of the frogs watch Goblin Crowley, who is napping on a mossy rock surrounded by clover. Crowley is a gardening Goblin who collects plants, and has grown the moss on the rock and the beautiful flowers around him. Crowley has long rabbit like ears and little horns and a pointed tail. Goblin Aziraphale is proudly marching on a mossy log that has fallen across the stream. He is carrying an armful of mushrooms that will be their supper. Goblin Aziraphale is a Goblin who collects found things, so he wears pocketwatch like a satchel (because he is very small) and a ring like a bracelet. He’s very excited to share the mushrooms with Crowley and there are little stars in his eyes.

Second image: Crowley sits with his legs splayed out and his palms on the ground. A frog’s legs stick out of his mouth, and his tail is pointed straight up in surprise. A speech bubble from Aziraphale says “No Crowley! Not the frogs!”]

You can find me on Twitter, Instagram, and AO3 with the same handle.

Trans rights are human rights.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanart #aziraphale x crowley #goodbyevanny #goodbyevanny art #good omens art #good omens AU #Goblin AU #goblins

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toxic8ball · 7 months

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genuinely don’t know what I was thinking while making this…

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens 2 #good omens fanart #david tennant #fanart #micheal sheen #neil gaiman #labyrinth #david bowie #jareth #the goblin king

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cobragardens · 7 months

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Self-Therapy in the Form of an Open Letter to Neil Gaiman and My Fellow Ineffables

Dear Ineffables, and Dear @neil-gaiman

I want to talk about Good Omens for a sec, ok? You are not obligated to listen! But if you want to listen, I have a Thing I need to say. And it's important to me and I have a Tumblr, so you can see where this is headed.

I know Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, book and show, is primarily about the absurdity and tragedy and miraculousness and contagiousness of being human. I know it's about wanting friendship and cake instead of victory and ashes, and I love that. I know it did not start out as an intentionally or unequivocally queer story, and I know that neither the queerness nor the Christianity is the main theme of S1 or the book. And I think those are all good things: one of the big strengths that makes Good Omens so remarkable and so charming is its lightness of touch.

But Crowley did not start out as a demon, and Aziraphale did not start out as a butter-smooth liar, and they are neither of them the angel the other knew, and there are reasons for that. And S2 starts discussing those reasons, and now Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a very human kiss and have started a more overt phase of their ongoing conversation about what they are to each other. So one of the things we need to talk about is what it’s like to love the wrong person in a world like the world of Good Omens.

And I feel like I have some (very small) amount of expertise in this field. I do not have the skill as a writer to tell you what that was like to grow up Christian and deeply in love with my (also female) best friend in Colorado Springs, Colorado, the evangelical Christian Mecca of the United States. But I did it--or, rather, it happened to me--so I'm the person who has to write about it now.

It was Before Ellen. Homosexual sex was against the law in around half of U.S. states. Only one state (Rhode Island, which I am not convinced actually exists) had a law prohibiting discrimination against LGB people in housing, services, or employment. One U.S. state—my state, Colorado—amended its state constitution to prohibit prohibiting discrimination. Same-sex marriage did not exist. Same-sex couples could not adopt children. Being any flavor of queer could cost you custody in family court of any children you did have.

Queer young-adult novels did not exist. Movies and tv shows with queer characters did not exist unless they were serial killers or dying of AIDS. Safe-sex education did not exist, the LGBTQ section of the bookstore did not exist. Social media did not exist, the Internet was in its infancy (I was typing up papers in AppleWorks on an Apple IIe), smartphones did not exist. Porn was in magazines your friend’s older brother or uncle kept under his mattress.

The guy everybody in school thought was gay got beat up daily. The girls I'm not sure about. I only ever saw two girls/women who were out before I was 28 and met an openly lesbian woman in a university class.

In Colorado Springs, bumper stickers for Colorado for Family Values and Focus on the Family, both headquartered in the city, were common. Crosses and ichthys decals proliferated. There were only a few “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” stickers, but “Marriage = One Man + One Woman," or the same message in Ladies and Gents toilets symbols (with a pair of ladies and a pair of gents crossed out) were a regular sight on the backs of cars every day, every drive, my whole life there.

This was a world where there was one very specific God, who has one very rigid Plan, and whose Agents and Enemies fight each other for the eternal souls of every human being. And every player on the board was clear about this.

I was 12 when my dad and I met two women on a hiking trail and, after we all said hello and they three had chatted a bit and the women had walked on, he asked me if I had "gotten any spiritual witness about them." He told me he suspected they were lesbians.

I was 14 when I burst into tears and shouted at my dad when he spoke viciously of the two gay men who had come into his place of work earlier in the day. He called them “flaming” and “faggots.” I told him we were Christians and we were not hateful about people in that way. I didn’t know what the word faggot meant, not for sure (I picked up the meaning of flaming from his imitations), but I could tell it meant they were people who did awful things, and that he hated them.

I had never seen my dad like that before, hating someone. I had never heard him speak that way about anyone.

I was 16 when I rode in the back seat of our next-door neighbors’ Ford Focus on the way to Bible study and listened to the handsome Christian newlyweds up front discuss how awful it was that gay and lesbian couples were now allowed to adopt children in the state of New Jersey. It was bad, they said, that children could find homes with queer people “because children learn from their parents.”

I was 17 when 2 straight men beat and tortured Matthew Shepard and left him tied to a split-rail fence on the side of a road 3 hours north of Colorado Springs as a warning to the rest of us. A scarequeer.

A joke in poor taste, you may feel, this little pun. It is a pun, but it's not a joke.

One of Shepard’s murderers used the gay panic defense in court. In the U.S. the gay panic defense is one of reduced responsibility: a man cannot be held fully legally responsible for murdering another man if he claims he thought his victim was gay and making a pass at him. Because, under U.S. law, it is considered common for men to go temporarily insane and murder men they think may be gay and making a pass at them. I have rewritten this paragraph five times and that is the absolute least bananas I can make this sound. It is real and it is still a thing.

I was also 17 when Pastor Luis, the head of my church, preached in sermon about a member of the congregation who had fallen in love with another woman. He told us firmly: "She is no longer a lady. She is a lesbian."

He refused to counsel or marry them, services he insisted upon performing for the heterosexual couples among his congregants. He said he told the woman and her fiancee that they and their sin were not welcome in his house of God. He told us, the ones left, that we were not to contact the ejected woman or continue any friendships with her.

It was a small church, only about 60 people. Pastor Luis looked right into my eyes and held the eye contact with me (other peoole turned to look) when he said, "And if you don't agree with that, you are not welcome here either. You can leave now and never come back."

I did. For 10 years after that, I thought God had told Pastor Luis about me. That Pastor Luis had gotten the same "spiritual witness" off me that my dad had gotten off the 2 women we met backpacking. That he somehow knew—that any Christian might know if they listened, if they sniffed carefully enough. The smell of evil, I thought, must linger on me.

I was 18 when I got my first tattoo. My parents were relieved when I told them that’s all it was. "We thought you were going to tell us you were pregnant, or gay," they said.

I was 19 when a trans woman at a coffee shop told me about how she'd been fired as a substitute teacher from the biggest school district in the state. She didn't pass, so she dressed as a man when working. One day she made the mistake of wearing a women's button-down shirt (with the buttons on the left, not the right), and someone noticed and complained.

I was also 19 when my boyfriend's parents became concerned that he might be gay. (He had gotten his ears pierced and dyed his clipper cut pink while away at college.) As Christians his parents were against premarital sexual activity of any kind, including masturbation or sexual desire, so my bf couldn’t tell them how he knew he wasn’t gay, and for over a year they wouldn’t believe him. His mother bought some books from Family Christian Booksellers, the biggest Christian publisher in the U.S., about how as a Christian she should respond to her child’s queerness.

Throw them out, cut them off, and do everything you can to make sure your child starves and suffers, said the books. (I read them all.) Hunger and homelessness were the goal, they advised, but any misery you could cause was helpful. Turn other relatives against them, don't let them take their belongings when they go, cancel phone contracts and insurance plans.

When your child asks for help because they can't support themselves, you can force them to leave their beloved and drop their friends in exchange for survival, said the books. They will either eventually see that you and God are right and loving, and repent of their sin, or you will catch them lying to you and sneaking around, which is proof that homosexuality and other sins go hand in hand.

One book acknowledged that cutting them off would endanger teenagers and young adults and leave them vulnerable to rape, murder, and human trafficking (though it called being trafficked "prostitution"). But Christian parents acting in the name of God's love would not be responsible for the harm their kids suffered, it said: the children were bringing whatever happened to them on themselves as a natural consequence of living a sinful lifestyle.

In fact, said the book, being attacked or abused could be good for your children: if they suffer enough they may realize it’s their gayness that has caused all their problems and repent of their disgusting unacceptable love and desire.

In the United States, LGBT children represent 40% of homeless youth under 18. "Family conflict" is the number-one cause of LGBT youth homelessness.

I was 22 when the pastor of my boyfriend’s church received news that one of his congregants was engaged in a same-sex affair. Extramarital affairs were very common in his church—three of the deacons were cheating on their wives with other (also married) congregants, and my bf’s parents had been swingers —but this was the first and only time the pastor ever called a church member to the altar, outed him by described his sin to the congregation (c. 350), and demanded the man apologize to everyone and ask their forgiveness. The pastor told him that if he did not apologize he and his wife and children were not welcome to continue attending.

I was 23 when I heard that same pastor’s sermon on avoiding sexual temptation. Give up affection if it causes you to sin, he said. Scoop out your own eyes, cut off your own hand. He instructed men only to hug other men side-along, one arm around their shoulders, lest a real embrace cause them to feel sexual desire for another man. (No mention was made about how women should hug, or that women might ever feel sexual desire at all.)

I remember listening to this pastor's sermon and thinking, I know something about this man that he does not know about himself.

I was 24 when I went with my boyfriend to Pulpit Rock Church, seeking answers from the sermon they advertised on their signboard about sex and sexuality and gender. My boyfriend loved wearing women's clothes. Transgender and cross-dressing were just starting to replace transsexual and transvestite as the accepted terms for the things he might be. Nonbinary and genderqueer were not words we had. He wasn’t sure yet which thing he was; the thing he was was still, for us, unspeakable.

"Men are created to be men and women are created to be women," preached the pastor at Pulpit Rock. "Men and women are different in a way that can't be explained, and they fit together in a relationship in a divine way. A man and a man or a woman and a woman may love each other, but they'll never have the spiritual connection of a godly relationship that a man and a woman can have. We don't have to understand it, but we shouldn't question it, because that’s the way God made it."

Then he talked about how he and his wife could both make French toast (or maybe it was pancakes), but the way his wife made French toast was female somehow--ineffably--because she was a woman, even though the French toast was the same. My bf and I left in the middle of the sermon.

I was 25 when Ted Haggard, best friend of Focus on the Family founder James Dobson (of “Spongebob is teaching our kids it's ok to be gay” controversy) and pal of George W. Bush (the POTUS who pursued, in his own words, "a Crusade" in Iraq with the U.S. military to fight the influence of demons "Gog and Magog[…] at work in the Middle East"), was publicly outed. Male escort and Mike Jones—whom Haggard hired to sell him meth and give him happy-ending massages—recognized ‘Pastor Ted’ as the leader of Colorado Springs evangelical megachurch New Life Church, a nationally famous preacher who denounced the evils of homosexuality from his pulpit, and Jones, a big damn hero, tipped off the press.

I had heard Pastor Ted preach twice. New Life Church was a lot like Heaven in Show Omens in that it had a lot of open space and bright fluorescent lighting and smiling well-groomed people in it, as well as several giant digital screens floating in the air to either side of its dais on which the face of the straight-passing white man bringing his people the word of God was projected as he spoke. This latter feature also resulted in a slight resemblance to a Hitler rally, but there was more medium-stained oak in play than either Hitler or Heaven would find tasteful.

I was 26 when I acted as an informal lettings agent for one of my landlord's other apartments and the young Christian woman living downstairs asked me refuse shelter to any gay or lesbian people because she didn't want to have to live in the same building with them.

When I asked her how I was supposed to know whether someone was gay, she said, “Well you can just tell, can’t you?”

I was 30 when I came out to my Christian parents. Having read the Christian parenting books, I was hugely relieved when they didn't throw me out of their house, where I was living after college (and a few major depressive episodes and two global recessions). I was relieved that they wanted to continue to have a relationship with me at all, in fact.

"I still think it's a sin, though," my mother gently reminded me. My father has refused ever to discuss it at all.

I was 31 when I moved to the UK. I've spent 11 years trying and failing to scrape a living in the Thatcher-hollowed market towns around Manchester, under the fucking Tories, through fucking Brexit, through fucking May and fucking Boris and that weird little cabbage Liz Truss, in order to stay out of Colorado Springs. I can't get medical care on the NHS and I can't work or leave my apartment bc I can't get medical care and I can't heat my apartment in winter on Universal Credit and I’ve been threatened and assaulted by doctors and raped by a nurse and I’ve tried suicide a few times, and I'm in some smallish danger of dying here in Britain's left armpit, but I am not in Colorado fucking Springs today, am I. So that's something at least.

I was 41 and living in the UK for a decade when a homophobe with Christian parents shot up the only gay venue in Colorado Springs, Club Q, murdering 5 people and shooting 19 more. I'd been to Club Q a few times, on dead nights, when I lived in the city. The shooting was 24 years after homophobes tied Matthew Shepard to a fence and left him dying as a warning to the rest of us.

I never told my best friend I was in love with her.

Instead I had anxiety dreams in which my subconscious warned me I wasn't safe. In one dream, Not Yet appeared tattooed on the back of my hand as I looked at a female classmate who was dating another girl. I had to wear gloves to hide the rainbow that had appeared, indelible, on my ring finger.

My first kiss was with a (Christian) boy.

I knew what I felt for my best friend was effervescent and golden and breath-stealing. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, knew I wanted to live with her in a little house in the Pacific Northwest in the mist and the trees and make her coffee with a Turkish press anytime she wanted it and cuddle her on the closed porch and gripe about the wool in her sweater prickling my arms when I hugged her. I knew her eyelashes made her eyes look like they had stars in them and that she had the lushest curves and most perfect skin I had ever seen, and that when she smiled or laughed the shape of her mouth made something in me ache like tuning forks must ache when they're struck and made to sing.

I never told my best friend I was in love with her because I didn't know those were the words for what I was feeling.

Not until years later, after she had left my life. I had been told (frequently) by a Higher Authority that queer love was disgusting and ruinous and sinful and ugly and twisted and inferior, not this perfect fragile thing as soft and trembling-alive as a bird in my hands. Why would I think this was queer love?

I didn't catch the worst of it. I wasn't chained to a bed or forced to drink water from a dog dish, like the foster parents of the gay kid in class did to him. (The school asked him to give a talk to our class so they'd bully him less, so he told us about his life as the teachers looked on. He was 12.) I wasn't sent to conversion therapy like one classmate. I didn't spend most of my childhood in Bible School like other devout Christians' children; my family read the Bible a lot, and prayed together, but my parents weren't regular churchgoers. I was so, so lucky.

It destroyed me anyway.

The thesis of my essay runs thus, fellow ineffables: A happy ending for Crowley and Aziraphale is necessary.

It is necessary not just because Bury Your Gays is an overdone trope and an act of homophobia in the hands of straight writers; not just because Good Omens has been crafted with such loving care in both book and show incarnations to be optimistic, even sunny, against a backdrop of Orwellian, cosmic, and Kafka-esque horror; not just because casting miracles of the magnitude of David Tennant as Crowley and Michael Sheen as Aziraphale happen once a generation and it would be a shame and a waste not to write more magic for them to chew on; it is necessary because, in most places here in Shitworld, there are real people having the experience Crowley and Aziraphale are having, and not all of us are able to make happy endings for ourselves.

We don't have ethereal/occult powers or authorial control, so we need stories to show us how to love and when to fight and why to fucking bother. And the harder those things are to see in this world, the more we need those stories. And the more we need people with influence and audience and privilege telling them, not just all us little Tumblr rats and AO3 and Pillowfort perverts.

Crowley and Aziraphale exist in a fascist universe run by the ultimate Authoritarian—not Big Brother, but Big Father. There is nowhere for them to go, not even their own minds, where it is safe for them to love each other openly. I am completely prepared to believe someone in those circumstances could go 6,000 years without realizing the love they feel for their best friend is the kissing kind of love. I know someone can go a whole lifetime without saying it.

The hosts of Heaven and Hell will take away even the words for love when they can. We need people who don't just wield words but the power of the word spreading the message "There is a way to make this work. There is a way to exist. You can make a new world."

Mr Gaiman, I know from reading some of your other work that a big part of your whole Deal as a writer is an ongoing enthusiasm for the immense, even mystical, power stories have to shape individual and shared realities—sometimes to doom people and lock them into a destiny, but as often to let them escape their fate by imagining and conceiving a new way of living, or of living with each other, where none was possible before.

Hate and hope are the result of the stories we tell each other--I know you know this because I know you know that in saying it I am referencing a story you wrote. Like the hate, that hope only exists if an author says it does. And real people’s hearts, real people’s lives, are made and broken by listening to the wrong stories or hearing the right ones.

Crowley and Aziraphale are your characters, and Good Omens is your story to tell. You have written a setup in which, if you want these characters to be able to love each other, you (they) will have to create a world where that is possible. Please write us a romance. Please put enough sweet in with the bitter that we can survive it.

We have such faith in you because you have shown your readers and your audiences that you deserve that faith. Please choose your phrases wisely. ❤️

#good omens #good omens 2 #human rights #Colorado Springs #lgbtq #writing #religion #christianity #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #neil gaiman #stories #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #trauma #mental illness #tmi #say your right words the goblins said

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ze-haus-of-holbein · 8 months

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Can we just take a second for Michael Sheen, who managed to stay in character whilst being kissed by David Tennant????

Like he spent all of the Good Omens series one press run staring at David like this

And then dealt with this

AND STAYED IN CHARACTER???

#good omens #good omens s2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #michael sheen #david tennant #michael sheen i knew you were a good actor but omfg #how much self restraint can one welsh chaos goblin have???#if anyone else got looked at like that by michael sheen they’d probably die on the spot

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gleafer · 5 months

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Hey there my turtle doves!

I joined Patreon where I’ll be posting exclusive art, comics, process sketches and also…a spicy tier for the goblins.

(It’s me. I’m goblins.)

Lots of GO, OFMD and many more along with OCs who are a delight!

Please take a peak and if it’s something you’d like, stay. The water is fiiiiiine.

#illustrator #illustration #digital artist #crowley #good omens #artist on tumblr #good omens art #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley #comic artist #comic art #gleafer art #gleafer #parody #happiness #I’m a goblin #goblin

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wizardbracket · 1 year

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Round 3: Match 15 of 16

Why they deserve to be the ultimate wizard according to YOU:

Jareth:

Vanquished (so far): Tim the Enchanter, Morgana

"GOBLIN KING GOBLIN KING"

"im voting with my pussy sorry girl ive been obsessed with him since i was like 5"

"in the labyrinth lore jareth canonically has the power to alter reality"

"he kidnaps children but only when asked"

"Jareth needs no comment"

"he has magnificent shiny balls"

Aziraphale:

Vanquished (so far): Castiel, Willy Wonka

"Aziraphale is the most precious cinnamon roll in this cruel world🥺"

"he deserves it, it would also make him really happy if he knew yknow..."

"Aziraphale can do all the miracles in the world, but chose to mess up on human tricks, and that alone deserves love"

"Aziraphale put in the time to learn magic”

"He’s just so friendly and sillygoofy”

"Just LOOK at him! So enthusiastic! Stage presence is through the roof, and Harry the Rabbit!!"

#polls #wizardbracket #jareth the goblin king #the labyrinth #aziraphale #good omens

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cactusspatz · 9 months

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June recs

June was full of Neil Gaiman fandoms: first I rewatched Good Omens S1 (S2 on Friday!!!) and then plowed through my backlog of fic to read, and then I watched The Sandman. So there's six Good Omens recs, two Sandman recs, and one lone but lovely Goblin Emperor rec.

GOOD OMENS

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm / @mouseonamoose Amazing story about Crowley going to therapy, from his therapist's POV. The author clearly knows their stuff and Aubrey is a vivid character in her own right with her own journey to go on. This one's been recced all over, but it really is that good.

dearly departed by attheborder / @areyougonnabe In which Crowley gets discorporated and many shenanigans ensue - the London occultist underworld, lust-demons, Hell bureaucracy, Aziraphale vs loopholes, fake marriage, and of course, a happy ending. Slightly morbid at times but a fun hilarious romp.

Temptation by out_there / @out-there-tmblr Lovely look at Crowley tempting Christ (as he mentions to Aziraphale), and the lasting effect it has on him.

the deft, sweet gesture of your hand by deadgreeks / @mortuarybees Post-S1, Crowley turns up injured at the bookshop and Aziraphale takes care of him. Such a tender romance, such warm h/c. Poetry! Knitting! Pining! Ferociously protective Aziraphale!

Hell to Pay by battle_cat / @fuckyeahisawthat "In the midst of the Great Fire of London, Crowley does an emergency good deed too undemonic for Hell to ignore." Wistful h/c.

Lead me to the banquet hall by obstinatrix & wishwellingtons In which Crowley doesn't eat around Aziraphale because he has too many Feelings about it - and then Aziraphale finds out. Creative, delightful, hot, and well-characterized!

You can also find my older Good Omens recs on Pinboard!

SANDMAN

Spite (Is As Good A Reason As Any) by Blue_Sunshine In which Hob doesn't just build an inn and pine after 1989, but hires Johanna Constantine to help him track down Dream. Great AU in many directions, and the Hob-Johanna friendship is a complete scene-stealing delight. (If you like them as much as I did, there's another WIP that just finished: Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem, which kicks off with Johanna rescuing Hob from a demonic possession.)

Passing the Time by Anonymous Dream passes time in the fishbowl by quietly terrorizing his guards. (The author tagged this 'Dream is petty and terrifying' and I couldn't agree more.) Viciously funny but also a little heartbreaking.

GOBLIN EMPEROR

Between the Grave and the Well by Sphragis "In which Iäna Pel-Thenhior catches a fever and Thara Celehar catches feelings." Gorgeous hurt/comfort-y get-together that really captures the characters and the world.

#good omens #crowley/aziraphale #the sandman #sandman #aziraphale/crowley #goblin emperor #thara/iana #fic rec #monthly recs

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casimirt · 8 months

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