So, while I personally am very firmly in the “Supernatural and Good Omens are too different to be compared in any way whatsoever”-camp, I must say, I LOVE how exact opposite the two Queer Disaster Angels are.

Castiel is this very conflicted and highly tortured character, dealing with his loss of faith and trying to find a new purpose in humanity and the human man he loves, for whom he just keeps sacrificing everything over and over again.

Meanwhile Aziraphale has lied God straight to the face, is proud of this, spent 6000 years doing anything but his actual job, and eloped with a demon.

Driving lessons

your daily aziraphale appreciation post sir-

we must protecc the boy

#yes he is soft

Prithee gentles, I present my first Good Omens proper cosplay, inspired by @naniiebimworks​‘s vintage Aziraphale. This little set is based on the showgirl artwork:

More to follow when I am finished being giddy over these ones :D

งานเก่า

Aziraphale deserves a double scoop 🍦

[ patreon ]

Their story continues....

we should just flip a coin

"To The Ones Who Have Always Known..."

(There's a new short & sweet Pride-themed comic posted for my $4 patr0ns!)

Forbidden snack

You’re so good to me.

Commission of Aziraphale and Crowley making love in the Garden.

hey y'all I live and bringing y'all non-straight content :)

Crowley, he thinks to himself, and the name clutches his chest so hard he can barely breath.

Crumpled on the kitchen floor, worsening the stain on the floorboards, Aziraphale cries until there is nothing left of him.

The tears eventually dry; the sobs eventually quiet. No one can weep forever. Eventually, he gets himself just a little bit under control. No, that’s not right. He’s not in control of this - he is not in control, he is merely resigned to this morbidity. Quiet and accepting of its pain. He hates it, but he cannot let it go. Doesn’t  want to let it go. Because somewhere, beyond the veil, he can’t ignore, nor can he stave, the love that roars inside him. He cannot ignore the affection and fondness that lives inside this house.

He cannot forget all the ways that he  yearns  .

Aziraphale steadies his breathing and lifts his head, looking around the kitchen. The floor is drenched by now, and he’s sure the stain will only worsen from here, but he doesn’t care.

Something snags his attention, like the snap of fingers. He turns his head to the right, drawn like a magnet, and looks into the foyer.

The foyer is coated in darkness, but it is certainly not empty.

Aziraphale doesn’t startle, he doesn’t make a sound, he doesn’t even  flinch as he takes in Crowley’s figure in the doorway. He stands in the darkness, clearer now, and better defined than Aziraphale had seen him just the night before. He is a figment - a mixture of shadow, of white, of grey, of fog - but he is here. There are details to him now, little intricacies that Aziraphale can study. He takes them in: Crowley’s lean figure, his cocked-up posture, sharp nose, and a jaw you could cut yourself on. Crowley’s eyes are white now - completely so. No pupils. No irises. Just alabaster, lifeless sclera.  Empty  , Aziraphale thinks,  and yet… he is looking at me.

He stares at Crowley, still as can be, from his dampened place on the kitchen floor.

I had the pleasure of commissioning @selene-yoshi-chan for this scene from my good omens ghost story “In the House We Remain”. it’s absolutely perfect. thank you so much for your hard work on this, selene.

check out the fic if you haven’t! and be sure to hit up selene’s page - all her work is incredible.

This doesn't feel like a very finished thing but its a thing.

New commission ready !! A sweet hug that is part of this tender fic. Still not what you read? don't miss this writer!

Small Omens AMA - “I wonder what they would make those globe theatre or bastille costumes out of!!” (Asked by @doodleskabootle)

After Armageddon't, when they're back, safe and sound.