The Trans Horseman

19 years old, been on horseback since 7. Only just moved to England and started jumping in 2016. Even so, I have a dream to be the first trans man on the British Olympic equestrian team. Avatar is my beautiful 10yo gelding. Had him since November 2016.

[greenbergsays]

Legitimately, this is my first and only thought every time I watch this scene.

I cannot think of a single other reason why Crowley’s response to what he has to know is an angelic ability is, “you’re being ridiculous,” OTHER THAN THIS.

[sokodraws]

Ineffable Husbands

it took ages but i finally finished these paintings, i love these boys so much i’m gonna cry

(PLEASE DON’T COPY/EDIT/USE/REPOST, REBLOG INSTEAD)

[anthonycrowleymoved]

as much as i hate that they changed The Dove Scene the sight of aziraphale nonchalantly raising the dove is fucking hilarious when like, ten minutes before in the same episode he was nervously telling crowley “i’ve never actually…..killed…..anything…..i don’t think i could.” it makes me think that aziraphale accidentally kills someone on average about once every couple of weeks and just goes ‘oh shit not again’ and miracles them back to life before anyone can find out

[fyoht]

[mollyjames]

Actually, I rather like being trans

[mollyjames]

I suppose being cis would be nice and all, but it doesn’t quite have the same “I will sieze Destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing” kind of verve

[221cbakerstreet]

tumblr user mollyjames picking up hormones: “I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing”

the cashier at cvs:

[goodomensblog]

Forever

Me, calling out like a  vendor at a sports game: I’ve got your angst and fluff here! Aaangst and fluff, anyone? Get your angst and fluff!

Forever

Heaven’s execution chamber was elegant, magnificent - and bare. Polished floors gleamed, immaculate; their cleanliness made it impossible to guess at the atrocities committed upon them. Clean, white walls glared, and a window as large as the room was tall, teased of freedom just out of reach.

At the center of it all, was a chair.

And upon that chair, an angel sat.

Across the cold, stark room - too far from the angel - a demon knelt, bound.

The ropes burned, and Crowley hissed, hunching his shoulders as he turned his head up. The angel, his wrists tied to the chair, met and held his stare.

No, it couldn’t - it wasn’t - this wasn’t right.

Confused and in pain, Crowley called, “Angel, you alright?”

Aziraphale’s light hair appeared white in the harshly lit room, and his face had gone pale; but at Crowley’s call he sat up in the chair, bound hands giving a feeble wave.

“I’m okay, dear.”

His smile was pinched, forceful - the kind of smile meant to convey that everything is okay, when things are, in fact, very much not.

Crowley wiggled, attempting movement - but his knees wouldn’t budge from the floor. Gritting his teeth, he fought to stand - and the ropes constricted, biting and burning, even through his clothes.

Gasping, he folded forward. His forehead smacked cold marble with a crack.

“Crowley!”

The ropes constricted, squeezing - then reluctantly loosened once more.

“Darling, try to be still. Please.”

Grunting, Crowley twisted, looking up. The marble was a cold caress against his cheek. “Wha-”

“It will be okay,” Aziraphale said, perched at the edge of the chair. He’d scooted as far as the restraints would allow. “Please, Crowley. It’s okay. Don’t fight.”

Crowley frowned, head abuzz from the crackling ropes. “Angel, what’re you-”

At the far end of the room, an impossibly large door opened, regal and slow. A gust of cold air followed the new arrivals into the room.

The angels walked as one. With straight backs and unhesitating steps, they observed the room, their chins tilted just slightly up. It made it appear as though they looked down upon everything they saw.

They saw Aziraphale first, paying him a short, swift glance down their noses before settling into a tight line. Only once they were in formation, did they deign to spare an even shorter glance to where Crowley knelt upon the floor.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, his voice booming. “So good to have you back, buddy.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say I share the sentiment,” was Aziraphale’s stiff answer.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?” Gabriel said, and he smiled with hard, white teeth.

Pale lips pressing together, Aziraphale turned his head.

“Though,” Gabriel continued, “You do get to have your friend here with you.” And then he was turning toward Crowley, smiling as he extended a hand. “At least, in the end-”

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale snapped, and the ropes binding his wrists twitched and groaned.

Four chins dipped down as the angels glanced sharply at the arms of the chair.

“Let’s just-” Aziraphale said, and gaze softening, looked past the angels - to where Crowley crouched. “-get on with it.”

Keep reading

[charlotteharlatan]

I don’t know if anyone has mentioned this yet, but Aziraphale and Crowley switching bodies, while being a really cool and clever addition to the original book narrative, is crazy fucking INTIMATE, ok.

Here’s what I mean:

They’ve lived in those bodies for 6000 years. They’re Attached to them. The same way Aziraphale is Attached to his books, or that Crowley is Attached to his Bentley. This is explicitly shown, as both characters mourn the loss of these material things, which by all accounts should not matter to ethereal/occult beings. Despite having bigger metaphysical fish to fry, they’ve found physical things that are precious to them. They have come to love the world. And as their vessels by which they explore and participate in and relate to that world, their bodies are the most precious of all.

Imagine going into someone’s room when they’re not there. Imagine looking at all their stuff and being able to go through their drawers and cabinets if you wanted to. Pretty intimate right? You probably know that person well.

Multiply that intimacy by like ONE THOUSAND and it probably wouldn’t even approach the intimacy of occupying someone else’s physical form. But Az and Crowley do it, and not just for a casual “take her for a spin, lap around the track” situation. They let each other drive for literal life or death stakes. Imagine that level of trust.

Neil has reminded us that angels (and by extension demons, who were formerly angels) are sexless unless they make any effort otherwise. There is speculation about what might have happened between them if Aziraphale accepted the invitation to stay with Crowley in his flat. Whether they made an Effort. It seems likely that he did at least accept; Crowley, or rather Aziraphale, already in Crowley’s body, chooses not to drive the newly-restored Bentley. Probably because they had already swapped by that point, so that was actually Aziraphale leaving Crowley’s building after staying overnight. That’s a boundary that’s implied to have never been broken between them before.

And. AND. Don’t even get me started on the hand holding. They had to join hands to “swap back,” implying that they had to join hands to swap in the first place, as well. I could go on all kinds of tangents about the connotations of that kind of physicality, how reminiscent it is of the handfasting seen in many marriage ceremonies.

And beyond connotations, there is what was blatantly and purposefully shown, which was the two of them blending together, morphing into each other as they swapped back.

Their clothes, their faces, their physical forms, every earthly boundary between them blurs in that moment when they switch back. They are part of each other, and we can see it. More than any suggested intimacy of them spending the night together, this is overt imagery that shows how wedded to each other Aziraphale and Crowley truly are. In switching bodies, they become “one flesh” in the literal sense, as the delineation between them is temporarily suspended. A marriage would be a very Nice and Accurate way of describing it. And in allowing the other to inhabit their oldest and most prized material possession, they show the undeniable trust and love between them.

It’s hard not to interpret their body switch as a consummation of the bond they’ve had for 6000 years, since Eden, since they first gained those earthly bodies. And it’s arguably a far more intimate union than anything else physical they might have done.

[goodomensblog]

I have a parrot and he loves when I snuggle him. His feathers are so so so soft and he can be a little dusty sometimes. I think about Crowlet would run his hands down Aziraphales soft snow white wings :3

Restraint

Look but don’t touch.

The sentiment was as old as - well, at least as old as the garden. The Garden (all capitals, mind you) is, of course, the most famous example of failed restraint - with regard to apple touching and then consumption, respectively.

Crowley, being the original tempter, had a unique relationship with restraint. His day job was to advocate against it, seeing as he was a temptation demon. When it came down to it though, Crowley was actually very good at resisting temptations - when he wanted to. Not that he often wanted to. Demons are, after all, creatures of indulgence.

When Crowley wanted to get drunk, he miracled himself a bottle of his favorite vintage wine. When he wanted to drive fast, he used London as his own personal speedway. When he wanted sex, well - you get the idea.

It wasn’t often that Crowley felt the need to utilize his surprising talent for self discipline. There was, however, one very notable exception.

In his bookshop, the angel Aziraphale sat, surrounded by books.

Considering Aziraphale lived and worked in a bookshop, he was obviously always surrounded by books, in the general sense. But in this case, he was quite literally surrounded by books.

Aziraphale sat in the middle of his bookshop, the CLOSED sign prominently displayed on the door, with what appeared to be a good seventy percent of his formidable collection placed on the floor in neat piles. If asked, the angel would claim this was all for “inventory purposes.”

In reality, after feeling a bit nostalgic, he’d decided to flip through a few of his old favorites, and had, er - well gotten just a bit carried away.

Not that anyone did ask.

The only individual who would have asked - since Aziraphale had kicked out his customers - was distracted by the one other notable feature in the room.

A pair of large, snowy white wings.

Crowley, who’d miracled himself into the book shop to see if Aziraphale was interested in going to lunch, saw the windows first. They were propped open, and bright sunlight poured in, lighting and warming the cluttered space. 

He turned, Aziraphale’s name on his lips - when he saw them.

Magnificent, they stretched out, extending over the nearby stacks, and resting atop the sturdiest of the books. Beneath the sun, the white, downy wings seemed to glow.

It was as Crowley stood, staring at the wings Aziraphale so rarely brought out on this plane of existence, that the age old adage again came to mind.

Look but don’t touch.

Crowley circled the angel - who was so immersed in reading he didn’t even appear to notice the new entrant. 

Stepping carefully around the books, Crowley observed Aziraphale; looking from his hair - standing up at odd angles, appearing even lighter in the sun, to his eyes - half-lidded, fair eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked down at his treasured words, and finally to his wings, white, and ruffled, and looking soft enough to touch.

Crowley swallowed, unaware that he was flexing and clenching his hands at his sides.

He couldn’t even say he had a good reason for wanting to touch the angel’s wings. They were likely soft, he supposed - would probably feel nice. That and, well -

They were a part of Aziraphale.

And Crowley, sometime around the fifteenth century, had come to the uncomfortable realization that the world was a brighter, livelier, more wonderful place when Aziraphale was nearby to him - and Crowley was already very fond of the world (don’t mention it to Hell), so this was really saying something.

Throughout the centuries, Crowley had found excuses to touch the angel - because if being near Aziraphale made the world better, touching Aziraphale made Crowley’s world transform into something radiant. So Crowley got creative. It was a handshake here, a clap on the arm there. Brushing shoulders as they walked. Even one notable instance where he’d plucked a speck of dirt from the left side of the angel’s nose.

Aziraphale had only taken his wings out in front of Crowley three times since they’d been assigned to Earth. So far, Crowley hadn’t dared touch them.

Not that he should have dared. Wings were intensely personal part of an angel - or demon’s body. A respectable being didn’t just go up and touch them.

Crowley, of course, was a demon. And demons are not respectable.

But Aziraphale was an angel, and…admittedly, very special to Crowley.

So Crowley resisted.

He contented himself with stepping nearer to the angel, and watching as the wings twitched, feathers swaying beneath the light afternoon breeze. All of Aziraphale’s feathers were somewhat ruffled, but a few stuck up from the rest.

Crowley didn’t know why he reached out, when he’d definitively decided not to. The only explanation that came to mind was that perhaps the body he rarely fed was finally rebelling - because his hand was most definitely moving. 

His fingers were inches from the wayward feathers when reason returned to him. Muscles locking, he froze.

As if sensing the anxiety in the air, Aziraphale looked up from his book. Blinking his eyes into focus, he turned partially around - and caught sight of Crowley, hand extended toward the wing.

Crowley stood, caught. Hot with shame, he rushed to explain. “I wasn’t-” 

Aziraphale interrupted.

“Oh Crowley! I didn’t even notice you come in.” His gaze flickered to Crowley, and then to his hand, and finally, the wing he’d stretched out atop the books.

Crowley cut in, desperately afraid that Aziraphale might never again trust him. And why should he?

“Aziraphale-”

“I know, I really should take better care of them, shouldn’t I?” Aziraphale sighed. “Were you going to fix those for me?” he said, nodding toward the jutting feathers. “You can go ahead.”

Crowley blinked, removed his sunglasses, and then blinked again.

Aziraphale’s gaze had returned to the book. He’d left his wings open to Crowley and his back deliberately exposed.

“I’m almost done with this one,” Aziraphale hummed into the book. “Feel free to tackle some of the other messy spots while you’re at it, dear. I trust you’ll do a good job.”

“I- yeah, of course,” Crowley said, his voice hoarse and his heartbeat thudding absurdly loudly in his ears.

Surrounded by books, he knelt behind the angel and extended a hand.

If you happened to pass that particular bookshop on that particular day, and if you just so happened to glance in an open window at just the right time, you would have seen the following:

An impossibly bright man, blonde and very nearly glowing, holding an open book in his lap which he was no longer reading. The pair of wings which stretched out from his back were being attended to by another man, who wasn’t so obviously effervescent, but also had a bit of bright something around him. The second man ran reverent hands over the white wings, carefully brushing feathers into place, while the winged one stole a look over his shoulder - one you couldn’t quite make out, but it was followed by a long, distinctly meaningful sigh.

Of course, you’d suddenly and inexplicably remember that thing you’d completely forgotten about and were now ten minutes late for. And as you hurried away, the scene you’d witnessed would slide ever so smoothly from your mind, and you’d be left with a strange, vaguely warm feeling that you couldn’t quite define - kind of like you’d very recently had a good hug.

Much later, after you’d gone to bed following an admittedly confusing day, you’d sit up in a cold sweat and think to yourself - love. Of course, the feeling was love.

[fred-erick-frankenstein]

Beautiful ❤️❤️

[herbstfarbenfuchs]

This was perfect ❤❤

[goodomensblog]

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[tennant]

crowley: demonic mastermind

[sggk]

Crowley can laugh all he wants about aziraphale going over the top with the bike but the fact that crowley made hamlet arguably the most successful play of all time simply because aziraphale gave him one tender look is very Oh Lord Heal This Play

[assiraphales]

when aziraphale asked if crowley knew jesus, he said yes, and that he showed him the kingdoms of the world bc he was just a carpenter, but I think there’s more to that. look at his face

he’s so soft, and hurt, and expressive. he’s always had borderline insider information about the world and the plans — in his apartment, he yells up at god, that he thought the humans would be tested, but not to destruction—he probably knew what would happen to Jesus, that a guy like that wasn’t going to survive. even worse, that he was a part of a plan that he personally couldn’t stop. so he shows him how big and vast and beautiful the world is instead.

this is the final breaking point for him, the one that hardens him. the one that closes him off. when we see him again in rome, just eight years later, there’s a significant change in his temperament, his body language, his everything. to be honest, the first time we see a piece of That crowley, the one he left behind after the cruxifiction, was when he smiled at aziraphale in the ritz

[a-zira-fell]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If the Antichrist was that big a deal, Christ himself must have been even bigger. Crowley was probably tasked with tempting him to the ‘other side’ and when he found Jesus, instead of pure Good, as he had expected, he found understanding. Jesus probably showed Crowley just as much about the world as Crowley showed Jesus. And Crowley, who had been doubting divine as well as diabolical willpower for a long time by then, lost even more of his trust. In Jesus, the son of God, he found a person who was at times just as conflicted as Crowley himself, but who still clung to his sense of the just and fair, trying to do right by everything. So when the just and fair, Jesus had preached, failed him and he ended up on that cross to die in the single most gruesome way possible, Crowley lost the last shred of belief in any kind of plan.

[morgwens-deactivated20200606]

no slow burn fic will ever hold a candle to almost 6000 years of flirting and pining only for crowley to be told he “goes too fast”

[grimimelody-deactivated20260531]

“If it’s about a dad dating other dads, how come some of them have kids???”

[daggers-drawn]

[trans-corvo]

[k-rbie-blog]

everyone stop reblogging the chains that don’t include the trans flag challenge

[anemonequeen-moved]

[crowleyswobblyleg]

Crowley+Voices

[saawek]

Me *driving on the M25 and hating it cause traffic* : Dammit Crowley you bastard

[tinkdw]

They have an actual advert for Good Omens on the M25.

Amazing 😆

[spockvarietyhour]

“Hell’s greatest achievement. The M25”

[plantichu]

a helpful tutorial

I was taking with my friend about good omens and we were wondering how the hell aziraphale-as-crowley managed to get into that bath without getting his socks wet and so I drew this ‘helpful’ guide.

I like to imagine that all the demons had to just awkwardly stand around watching him clamber around getting into this bathtub… @neil-gaiman can you confirm?

[neil-gaiman]

This is even better than the people trying to get Good Omens cancelled on Netflix. I might confirm it when I stop laughing.

[bosswaldcobblepot]

A walk to remember indeed + bonus

[theburialofstrawberries]

drunk sorority girl in 10″ stilettos on her way to a starbucks at 3am trying to hail a lyft by screaming bitterly at passing cars (she’s forgotten you have to use the app)

[merripestin]

ngl i been off tumblr since they unporned and I came back pretty much because I knew you people would have the proper appreciation for tennant walking around like his thighs recently went through a vicious divorce and have now both showed up drunk to the same red carpet event

[verysharpteeth]

I love that Crowley and Aziraphel are so much better at their jobs than their co-workers mainly because they were what their co-workers SHOULD have in theory been acting like. For example, heaven and hell are shown as ultra high tech and incredibly low tech respectively. Aziraphel, unlike his peers, is incredibly old fashioned. He likes old clothes, old books, rotary phones, going through research by hand, and not driving. Crowley is high tech. He changes his looks to fit in with the times. He understands technology and traffic and machinery; thinks it’s fantastic even. He has a smartphone and likes sleek, modern styles. 

Now think of that in contrast between how heaven and hell work. Think HOW MUCH MORE EFFECTIVE hell would have been had they been as slick and ultra modern as Crowley. The way technology is a seduction. The way it becomes the “new god” of a civilization. The way industry is soulless and crushing. Hell should be all over that. But they’re not. They’ve got a claw bathtub and an aversion to cars. Then think of heaven. Think how soulless their technological infrastructure is. Everything is sleek and uncomfortable and COLD. Meanwhile, Aziraphel is incredibly warm and “cozy” and old fashioned in the charming I’m-very-polite-and-know-my-manners type of way that we like to idealize the past at its best. Aziraphel would happily bake the new neighbors a casserole and loan them a cup of sugar, read to the kids, enjoy a lovely picnic, and know some fashionable, tasteful dances. Think of how much more appealing the heavenly forces would have been had they acted as charmingly open and friendly and completely lacking guile as Aziraphel is. Think of how much more appealing HELL would be if they were as modern and streamlined and savvy as Crowley. 

Good should always be good…evil…well it evolves with the times. We see that in Aziraphel and Crowley (not that either one isn’t without a spot of good or bad to them). They’re both exactly what their whole SYSTEM should be, yet they are the only real honest representations of heaven and hell as systems that work well. Failures though they are in the eyes of their respective networks, both are SO SO good at their jobs. Look at it this way, they were able to stop Armageddon, which means in essence, Crowley single handedly defeated the forces of heaven and Aziraphel single handedly defeated the forces of hell. Sure it led to a draw, but that’s exactly what both of them individually being so good at their jobs WOULD DO. 

Crowley and Aziraphel are one VERY good angel and demon.