hellandholywater
Effable Husbands
Aziraphale/Crowley. Plus an array of other Good Omens-related goodies. Work-unsafe posts are tagged #lemons. This is a sideblog for @onthedriftinthetardis. Avatar by @mielpetite.
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Five Start Armageddon
This week’s prompt in the GO Reference Library study club was the Them. And this immediately popped into my head! I loved the Famous Five as a kid, and Eileen Soper, who illustrated them, made such lovely art.
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The affronted tone with which Aziraphale asks where Furfur got the bullet catch booklet, because it's only available to Working Professional Magicians, is so funny. His worst fears have just been realized, a demon has shown up to arrest his husband, but he can still take a moment to be offended on behalf of his fake profession that important trade secrets have fallen into the wrong hands.
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If you're in the need for some kind of magical artifact of magic for your setting, consider Fresnel Lenses which are used in lighthouses:
These things are Alive.
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Ok so first of all, I wanted to thank you all for your warm welcome here on tumblr !! Y’all are so sweet fr 😭💖 I read all your sweet comments and hashtag, and I’m happy to join the madhouse ❤️🔥 still trying to understand how tumblr works, I come from Twitter and instagram it’s very different haha, but love you 🫶
Then, I gotta say, it’s not the first time I’m pretty quick to draw Crowley in DT’s outfit, actually did this one an hour after seeing the outfit for Comic Releif 😤 it was so Crowley coded I couldn’t resist-
#Crowley#Has been raiding DT’s closet again#good omens#good omens fanart#Hello welcome to the madhouse
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Okay, buckle up buckaroos, because today I met an honest-to-goodness cryptid.
I was out running errands and I made a stop at Intimate Books (…for a friend), and on my way out I realized that the bookshop next door was open.
This bookshop has existed for more than a hundred years, and in all my life it has NEVER BEEN OPEN. I mean, I assume it has to be open sometimes, but never at any normal, reasonable hour. Everyone says it’s a front for the mob or something.
So what do you do when the weird mafia bookshop is open? You go the fuck inside.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. You know that smell when you accidentally leave your towel on the bathroom floor all day and you come back to that mildew funk? The shop smelled like that times a thousand. I expected to see stuff growing on the walls, but the books were pristine. We’re talking first editions, rare editions, weird Bibles and books inscribed to really famous dead people. Librarians would weep for the chance to accession this place. In the first two minutes I found a signed copy of The Crucible and what I think was a first edition of Blake’s Book of Thel.
Then a clerk showed up out of nowhere—honestly nowhere. He looked EXACTLY like a bookseller should look, kind of fluffy and bewildered and really, really gay.
“Are you lost?” was the first thing he said to me.
“Nope. Just browsing, thanks.”
“Browsing, I see. Erm. How do you feel about snakes?” he asked. And without waiting for me to answer, he just walked away and vanished around a shelf.
I figured it was a metaphor, or a code phrase for the mafia. Until I turned a corner like ten minutes later and found a little reading nook. It was really pretty, although I feel like that particular window should have been on an interior wall? Anyway, curled up in an armchair in a patch of sunlight was the biggest fuck-off black snake I have ever seen.
Like, I don’t mind snakes in general. But in their normal context, right? Outside. On the ground. Not six feet long and sitting on a threadbare velvet armchair like it owns the place.
I was about to turn around and leave, but I saw a gorgeous first-edition copy of Leaves of Grass on a shelf, a little too close to the snake for comfort. But I had never needed anything so badly in my life.
So I went back to the counter to buy it, but the clerk was nowhere to be found.
While I was waiting, I noticed a collection of pictures hanging on the wall behind the counter, dating back to the very dawn of photography. A couple were of this rock-star looking guy from the 70s that I should probably have recognized, but there were authors and landscapes and stuff, too. There was even an old tintype portrait of Oscar freaking Wilde, sitting in this very shop with a guy that I would ACTUALLY SWEAR was the clerk from before. Like, I know my family all has the same nose, but this guy had the same everything.
After approximately one year of waiting, the clerk came back out to the desk. By now I’ve realized that he’s too bad at his job to be anything but the owner of the shop.
“I saw your snake,” I told him.
“Did you? Was he behaving himself?”
“He was sleeping.”
“Yes, he enjoys that.”
“Does he just stay out in the open like that? What if he gets out?”
He shrugged and smiled. “He always comes home again, the dear boy.”
Right, a homing snake. That’s totally normal.
Then he cleared his throat and asked, in a weirdly reluctant voice, if I was going to buy the Whitman.
“Yes, please,” I told him. “I saw it on a shelf by the snake, and it was just too tempting.”
He sighed. “Oh, yes, I expect it was.”
When I started to hand him my card, he went all fluttery and said that they didn’t take cards.
All right, fine. I had some cash on me, but I told him that he’d sell a lot more books if he got a Square or something.
He got this scandalized look on his face and went, “Why would I want to do that?”
Oookay. I handed over the cash and he popped open the ancient till and started making change.
In shillings. Shillings! I swear to god I saw Queen Anne’s face on one of them. The silver value of the coins was probably as much as I paid for the book.
But I had to have proof that this happened—at that point, all I had was a book in a plain brown wrapper, not appreciably different from what I bought next door. So I asked him for a receipt.
He looked delighted and wrote one up for me.
By hand.
With a fountain pen.
And that’s the story of how I met a bookseller cryptid and his pet snake.
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#Ditto tbh#good omens#ineffable husbands#Aziraphale#neil gaiman#michael acting choices sheen#gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide
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ineffable husbands + the ritz
the only two mentions of the ritz in the good omens book
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"Dancing is not a sin" part 2
🕺🎵🤍🖤
Part 1 here
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Temporal Adjustment - a PwP collab fic with the awesome @ukcalico!
this is the art I made for it, and now go forth and read the smoking first chapter over on Ao3!
#Go read this if you want to make every last brain cell pop like a champagne bubble#good omens#good omens fic rec#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#and can I talk about the ART for a sec?#spare lines and shading that make the desperation so visceral and alive#I am undone#don't forget to subscribe#spicy omens#lemons
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i know it's been said a million times but i still find it so fucking funny that shax told aziraphale that he isn't crowley's type. girl crowley's type is "aziraphale." not even nerds or bookshop owners or angels, it is ONLY aziraphale.
and that makes aziraphale's reaction so much funnier because he KNOWS she's bluffing. it's SO obvious. like he's oblivious, but he's not THAT oblivious. he's literally like the only person crowley has ever willingly hung out with. like nice try but that's the worst bluff ever, i thought you were supposed to be good at this.
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Earlier this year i participated in a fun sexy fan zine and now i can post the small comic i did for it! It has really weird colors because it’s me. Rated M. Under cut:
Keep reading
#Ohhhhhhhh#this is amazing#the art ... the words#Ughh I love this so much#good omens#good omens fanart#ineffable husbands#good omens comic#lemons
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name a david tennant character that's not at least a little bit transgender. i'll wait
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@einesnachts
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