[enby-distortion]

[crowleyfucks]

Crowley is ABSOLUTELY strapped in for a lifetime ride on the self esteem tower of terror

[crowleyfucks]

constantly being flung against his will between “high schooler at her friend’s sweet 16 sobbing in the birthday girl’s arms after seeing her crush talking to someone else” to “rock star at the outlet mall wearing booty shorts that say “PROPERTY OF AZIRAPHALE” on the ass, walking three standard poodles in diamond collars, one of which has a harness with a cupholder attached where he stores his venti chai latte” 

[thegoodomensdumpster]

[twinkle-art]

anathema’s delivery service

[ao3feed-goodomens]

Beds

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MAed6F

by atmilliways

Inspired by the book’s comments that, first, the beds (plural) in Crowley’s flat are always made, and that, second, there is only one bedroom.

Words: 581, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

• Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
• Rating: General Audiences
• Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
• Categories: Other
• Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)
• Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
• Additional Tags: Fluff, And there was only one bedroom

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MAed6F

[good-omens-fan-comics]

Anonymous asked:

hi! i have a gomens art suggestion: i saw a pinterest post of a t-shirt that said "thick thighs, thin patience" and i definitely think aziraphale would wear it if he ever got into more modern clothing :) totally understand tho if you're busy with other stuff!

kowbojki answered:

This is a FANTASTIC suggestion thank you!

[thegoodomensdumpster]

Anonymous asked:

Aziraphale once gently (or so he says) ran a family off his bookshop, and the youngest child left behind a beeping, colorful machine with a tiny pixel critter on the screen. It was promptly passed onto Crowley, the only one between the two who doesn’t routinely murder God’s smallest creations on accident. It was baptized a name no man can pronounce and is currently the oldest living Tamagotchi on existence. Crowley thinks of it as a portable version of his plants.

answered:

Anon, this is adorable and I love it. Now I’m wondering what happened to my poor NanoPet from 1996.

[davidfoley]

[enby-distortion]

[millerizo]

So this is what came out of Ineffable Manila, an art trade with @6y9brows . They asked for Crowley in summer wear. They had specific demands.

(please dont repost)

[niceprophecies]

[toastedbuckwheat]

Revisiting Memories

I bet Aziraphale keeps most of his old expensive outfits. Crowley would kill to see his Angel wear some of them again. Especially if the Shoes of Glory TM are involved.

GUYS thank you so much for all your responses regarding my previous Azi! This is a little gift for ya x You’re fantastic.

There’s also a certain top secret doodle I will send to those of you blessed beings who bought me coffees these days (or will in the future)!

______

Redbubble  |  Buy me a coffee 

[good-omens-fanart]

[greatbigpansy]

A faux stained glass piece for Good Omens

[good-omens-fanart]

Click images for better viewing.

[moki-dokie]

[forineffablereasons]

aziraphale waking crowley up in the mornings by curling around him and pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck; crowley grumbling in protest even as he presses himself further into aziraphale’s hold. time to wake up, dear boy, aziraphale tells him, between kisses, nuzzling into his hair a little. 

crowley stretches, groans, and collapses back into aziraphale’s arms. don’t wanna. 

yes, you do, aziraphale says, and there’s such fondness in him, such unbearable affection, that crowley has to turn in his hold and bury his face into aziraphale’s chest. you want to get up and come to breakfast with me, i think. i’ll take you somewhere with runny eggs, just like you like. 

s’warm here, crowley answers, but that’s not a no. food is aziraphale’s passion, of course, but crowley can be tempted – oysters in rome, crepes in paris, angel food cake at the ritz – particularly when it’s coming from aziraphale. you’re cosy.

aziraphale smiles against crowley’s temple, pulling him a little closer and rubbing a hand up and down his back. he can’t resist crowley like this, with his defenses down, his limbs loose and heavy with sleep, his face soft and unlined as though a cocoon of blankets and a soft awakening has melted away the last six thousand years, the fear and the hiding, the questions and the fall. 

maybe it did, a little. 

stay here with me, crowley mumbles into aziraphale’s chest, threading his own temptation into it – aziraphale can hear it in his voice, can feel it in the way it tugs, like a hand curling into the dark spaces underneath his ribs. just for a little while. eggs afterwards.

all right, aziraphale agrees, kissing crowley’s forehead, his temple, coaxing crowley’s face upwards – he follows those kisses like a sunflower turning toward the light. a kiss to crowley’s eyelids, terribly gentle against their flutter; a kiss to his cheekbones, his jaw, the bridge of his nose. just for a little while. eggs afterwards. 

when his kisses find crowley’s mouth, crowley sighs, and presses into him, and kisses him back, and it feels like that hand curled under his chest releasing just long enough to find aziraphale’s hand in return, like fingers slotting together, like palms pressed to palms, like the flicker of a pulse in wrists held to wrists. it feels like crowley, giving in; it feels like crowley, taking of. like balance; like finding equilibrium. the eye of the storm. the crest of the sun.

it feels like home.  

[moki-dokie]

you slay me with every single thing you write i fucking swear