#NGK Project

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

Op this is an awesome idea! My question to you is what is the thesis of the exhibition? What are you hoping to illustrate or prove? That would change my response to the question.

Re: "Weaponizing Women" in any of the ways it appears: its arguably the sexiest of all of them. Alliteration is always good for exhibition titles (was told this by the marketing director of a large museum once) but you need to think of the tack your exhibition argument is going to take. Is the question of who is weaponizing the women and for what purpose answered in the thesis of the project? Do you look at potential biases in the depictions of the murderous feminine by these artists or is that kind of secondary and the focus more on the swords? If so I'd avoid this one only because it sets up a question which the exhibition won't answer.

"Dressed to kill" reads kind of shallow to me or as though it will take a more fashion-history bend. If that's your intention carry on. I know you mentioned some textiles in your description and I think some really interesting work could be done WRT dress in these works - how does one dress to kill? Does the transposition of this historical figure into contemporary northern European dress add or take away from the depictions? How does dress function to localize or alienate the action?

I think option 1/6 "Women with swords: (insert whatever word you want to use) Judith in the Northern/German Renaissance" is probably your safest bet even if it lacks the alliteration. It answers the who what and where of the exhibition which itself will ideally answer the why.

Just my 2 cents as a fellow art historian who has done projects like this in the past (both virtual and IRL).

I am designing a "virtual exhibition" about 16th-century German/Northern European images of Judith, centered on Cranach's painting series c.1530s (a few examples above).

the show will have several prints/drawings, a pedigree court book, a tapestry, some coins and a few other smaller objects all with different ways of depicting Judith (and normally Holofernes too), and there WILL be swords as well.

*I know all of you on tungle dot com obviously want to be in a room surrounded by women holding swords and severed heads, but I need a title that is snappy and would also get the attention of the normies, tourists, snooty intellectuals, and people looking for the bathroom or the Monets.

[katiefrog217]

"Ngk... 5 more minutes, Angel." "Dear, you said that the last few times I tried to wake you up now. It's almost June - you've slept through most of May. I do believe it's time for you to wake up."

It's been a little while since I've drawn Azirabird and his disaster of a Snuband. Sorry I haven't done much for Creature Omens for a while - I've been busy most of May with work, bigger projects, and general tomfoolery. Now that summer is rolling around, I'm hoping to have more time to post!

Though I'm also in a cast because of the Mister B incident (20 straight hours of drawing if you can believe it), so getting pieces out might still be a bit delayed as I try to let my wrist have a break.

[ineffablechocolatecheesecake]

How is it that the week has already passed? Unbelievable. Well, felt like ages.

Anyway, it’s time to go on with our new lovely and extremely romantic Ineffable Austenian AU by @ngk-668 “Propriety & Passion”.

And today we meet… Of course, it’s Crowley! You’ll find him in a garden. Not just the ordinary garden, but the Royal Botanical Gardens in Kew, London. Or just Kew Gardens. If any place on this planet can be called human made Eden — that’s the Kew Gardens, hosting the most wide and diverse variety of plants from all over the world.

But in this universe Crowley too has to leave the Garden. Why and how that happens, and what comes next you’ll find in Chapter Two. Stay tuned)

[tanpopomugishu]

Yet another art on the human AU that's currently rolling around in my head... The first responders AU.

A : Ah, you're lucky! it's just a little knock on the noggins, nothing serious, just a bit of blood. Within a few weeks, there will be no mark on your handsome face.

C : NGK... yeah... thanks (He thinks I'm handsome 😳)

EDIT : there's now a fic based on this picture, written by the amazing @midnights-dragon 🥹

........

My first responders AU, EMT Aziraphale, & firefighter Crowley's first meeting!

Crowley got injured in the middle of a rescue and had to be treated by Aziraphale.

it's love at the first sight for Crowley. Poor boy is down so bad..

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Just as she prophesied. Piece by piece, a cover to find.

The wonderful @goodomenshq are doing a virtual treasure hunt for the cover of the upcoming Good Omens Graphic Novel - the amazing Good Omens book by the glorious @neil-gaiman and Terry Pratchett adapted by the brilliant @colleendoran ❤😈 😇 and it is a great honour that I can reveal a piece! 🥰🥳:) BIG WAHOO! NGK! Check and sign at the kickstarter for the project - the kickstarter is launching 1 August! :)

Who to follow here on tumblr to be updated about the novel and perhaps get a clue to where will be revealed the next piece :): @goodomenshq, @neil-gaiman, @colleendoran), and on twitter: @GoodOmensHQ, @neilhimself, @pratchettonline, @ColleenDoran, @terryandrob, @kickstarter.

[queenofthecute]

“Ngk. I mean. Ugh. Because, I can just tell, all right? There are… noises and utterances, and the like.”

Aziraphale's brow furrowed in thought. “How do you know they're not faking it? With the noises and whatnot?”

“Be serious, Aziraphale. You don't think I could tell the difference?”

There was a pause, while Aziraphale placed his fork on top of his plate and took a sip of water.

[littleweezel]

Writers Guild Presents: Welcome to Helloton for @wingsofopal

Happy birthday, wings! Thank you for inspiring me to get back on my Peloton, so I could see how sexy some of the classes are.

Rated M; ~3K words, one shot

Summary: Aziraphale was irate when his brother Gabriel gave him a top-of-the-line spin bike for his birthday, but he might have changed his tune once he turned it on and saw a handsome red-headed instructor.

Excerpt: As he approached Berkeley Square, his phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling his attention back to Central London. He groaned when he saw his agent’s name on the screen. “The fuck do they want?” he muttered to himself before answering, “Crowley here,” not bothering to mask the disdain in his voice.

That’s another thing he hated about working at Helloton. Apparently it meant he needed a bloody agent and a social media presence, and a lot of other nonsense beyond riding his bike, which was the only part that he gave a shit about, the only part he was any good at.

Before his agent could respond, Crowley jolted as someone collided hard with his shoulder, knocking his phone clear out of his hand and punching a “Ngk!” from his lungs.

Behind his sunglasses, his eyes followed the path of his phone as it sailed through the air and bounced on the pavement. “Fuck!” he called out, “hang on, Beez,” hoping they could hear him while he scrambled to pick up the phone.

As he bent down to reach for it, a strong, wide hand with neatly manicured nails grabbed it first. He watched the hand as it picked up the phone and held it out.

“I’m terribly sorry,” a voice said, and Crowley’s focus travelled from the hand holding the phone to the face of the person speaking to him: a young man with a cherubic smile on his face and a halo of blond curls on his head.

Thank you to the fabulous @logicalhighly for the beta and @nightshiftcaffiene for the Brit-pick!

@goodomensafterdark

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

and now i have to find myself a tower in a forest near a wall ...

... and look for a black, dark sorcerer !

You love fairy tales? You love Good Omens? You loved Aziraphale and Crowley in medieval clothes? Then you will love this not so little fanfic i dearly recommend to you!

Villainous by @ineffablepenguin

What it is about:

Once Upon A Time…

There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely.

The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends.

Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…

Part fairy tale, part fantasy, all love story. There’s magic, and grand romantic gestures, and Heroes and a handsome Prince, and a Villain. There are even some wild heroics, though not necessarily from who you would expect. At its core it’s simply about two (relatively) sane people living in a mad world who find each other.

What i love about it:

🫅🏼 I mean - fairytales? And a lot of them? I found it very nice to guess all the tales when stumbling upon a hint. Nice touch: in the epilogue there is a list of all the fairytales which have kind of flown into this fanfic and i am quite proud that i only missed 1 i actually know (and of course those i dont know).

👑 This story is RICH - and i mean really rich. It goes into details over everything and sometimes it reminded me of books written bei Hermann Hesse because of all the little things that kept coming and being mentioned. On my e-reader it was 566 pages! And yes, it took them about 200 pages for their first kiss 😅 That said, its always drawing a picture and reading the story is kind of seeing in your imagination. Obviously nothing is ineffable for @ineffablepenguin 😉

💪 The action scenes: oh my, its like a Schwarzenegger-movie, you cant stop reading, its fast, its furiuos ... oh, thats another movie, ngk.

🩷 The character development: both of our beloved angels start out being insecure of their roles, their place and their worth. But - this is the first fanfic i ever read, where both of them get to be BAMF !!!!

🩷 The plot: i love being suprised - i mean we do know a lot already, diving into a GO-fanfic with the tag "happy ending", right? So there were some really interesting turns and sometimes i wondered "ok, just how will this play out? How will the author get to unknot THIS?" And i have to admit, sometimes i really didn't see it coming. Very nice!

🩷 The healing: i dont know if it was on purpose or the author just felt like our ineffables needed to hear and think stuff, but actually the way their characters develop and how they help each other with it, what they are thinking etc ... reminded me a lot of trauma-therapy. So as one of those few (ähem) people who really spiraled after the big 15 of S2, this was such a nice feeling.

💫 the epilogue - this story doesnt end at happily ever after. Instead we get to know, how they make a living for themselves and sneak a little into their daily lifes. I truly appreciate that, its a nice way of comforting the Reader out of the story.

This wonderful art is from @pinkpiggy93! 🩷

Most beloved quote:

"And i love you too, my dear," he said firmly. "You are so very easy to love."

And isnt this quite a sentence, we all need to hear?

So if you are into good omens, fairytales, long fanfics to really dive in to for several hundred pages, some surprises and of course a happy ending - this is quite the story for you.

🩷🤗

Reading is not a hobby, its an attitude.

[depraveddame]

Chapter 4 of Bring Your Seed to Blossom is up 📿🥀 and it is Father Fell’s birthday.

Excerpt:

“Darling,” Aziraphale began, heart pounding with its new given life and revelations, “can you— can you touch yourself like I would, right now?” his murmur was breathless with it, intentionally posing this as a request and not a command, hoping that the difference registered with Crowley, “if you’d like; slowly, without haste and with care.”

Aziraphale’s hands actually hurt with the absence of Crowley’s body beneath them, but if Crowley wanted to give this a go, Aziraphale somehow knew it would soothe him regardless of the distance.

There was something profoundly healing, bringing Crowley pleasure via his own hands; perhaps because it was in direct rebellion of the idea Aziraphale had lived with for eleven years: that he was only capable of harm and despair. Such a notion was difficult to continue believing when there was a gloriously writhing, sweat sheened blossoming beauty beneath him, begging for more of his touch and more of him, more of Aziraphale, pleading like he would wither away if Aziraphale would not grant him his wish. The sensory experience of seeing, hearing, and feeling Crowley come to life as a result of Aziraphale had begun to do its work in his neural pathways, gradually but surely— he couldn’t continuously deny the evidence in front of him and in his very hands. Every euphoric expression he brought to Crowley’s face was an antidote to the hurting, shattered landscape of Aziraphale’s inner world, every climax and every beautifully whimpered word of ecstasy so generously given were remedies that filled the most inflamed cracks of him. Aziraphale still did not feel deserving of such revitalization, but it was happening, and now he craved it with a ferocity that would not waver; if he could give Crowley some that pleasure with his voice, perhaps sleep would come on a night where traditionally it never did.

The silence on the other end of the line was one of the most frightening bursts of quiet had Aziraphale had experienced lately, so much so that he barged into it, “only if you want, of course—”

“Yes, Aziraphale,” oh, that sweet, champagne doused tone, sparkling over the mobile and onto his tongue as if Crowley were right there with him, “I— ngk. Tell me how?”

Tell me what to do, Father? echoed in Aziraphale’s head, that life altering communion that was etched into him whispered as Crowley asked him how to touch himself.

@goodomensafterdark

[henriettarhippo-hrh]

Ch.10 Forbidden Fruit 🍎

Title: Forbidden Fruit Rating: Explicit Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley, Beelzebub/Gabriel, Muriel & Eric Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel, Beelzebub, Muriel, Eric

Chapter 10

Excerpt:

Anathema approached them, her satchel swaying against her hip. “For what it’s worth,” she said with a smile, “I’ve never seen an aura quite like the two of yours. It’s really beautiful. Like starlight and sunlight dancing together.”

Crowley felt heat flood his face as Aziraphale made a soft, pleased sound beside him.

“Although,” she continued, “you might want to work on dimming it down in public. You’re practically broadcasting in neon.”

“Right,” Crowley said stiffly. “We'll just turn down the cosmic light show, shall we? Is there a dimmer switch for that sort of thing?”

He winced at his sarcasm, but Anathema only smiled wider.

“There isn’t, no,” she said with a shrug, tilting her head as if studying the air around them. “Seriously though, the intensity of an aura like that? Usually indicates a soul bond. Just so you’re aware.”

Before either of them could respond, she glided away toward the patio, where they could hear her exchanging farewells with everyone.

“Soul bond?” Aziraphale whispered, his eyes wide.

“Ngk,” Crowley managed. “We met yesterday.” 

Or read from the start

@goodomensafterdark

[ineffableclassics]

“All right, darling, just relax now. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Ngk.” How Crowley was supposed to relax when his angel was calling him ‘darling’ in that honeyed tone and was about to put his hands on him he really didn’t-

Oh.

Oh fuck.

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of strong, yet gentle hands that began kneading just below his neck. The angel’s fingers were splayed out along his shoulders as his thumbs worked at the tight muscle on either side of his spine.

The demon did his best to hold in an indecent moan, but some of it still spilled out.

“Mmmm… does that feel good?” Aziraphale murmured.

Once again, Crowley was reduced to nonsensical mumbling and attempted to now nod his head in the face cradle.

Aziraphale chuckled kindly and continued kneading at that same spot.

~In which Crowley lets Aziraphale talk him into receiving a massage, not having the slightest clue that his wildest (and horniest) dreams are about to come true.

Words: 9,542

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete

[ineffablechocolatecheesecake]

I hope you will find this new AU as thrilling as I have already. What attracts me is the vibe of a solid “serious” literature, with proper social background for that matter, but with the everlasting and neverending ineffable love story that surpasses all obstacles.

This is @ngk-668 first big-big story, and they are extremely anxious about it, so I guess kudos will be very supportive, if you know what I mean :)

[anatomic-girl]

Chapter 11 (Transcendence) of The Regret List is up! Second half of date night (the spicy half). Excerpt (not from the spicy parts, heh):

Aziraphale’s heart sank. Was he going to be rejected now? Now that he’d finally made a choice?

Crowley turned his head, and their eyes met. “Are you sure? I could—ngh—get your bike. We can plan a second date. It doesn’t have to be—”

“Do you want to come in?”

“Of course I do.”

“Because I’ve literally never invited anyone home, Crowley. I’ve never been on a date in public, never invited a man back to mine, never even allowed a man to come over in a platonic manner when I didn’t have proper cover. So if you want this, then please turn off this fucking car and join me.”

“Ngk!”

***** Fic notes: human AU, religious deconstruction, old friends, starting over late in life, rated E.

[haemey]

@knifeforkspooncup and I got up to some silliness, I went "ok who's gonna write that fic" and well... this happened:

The newest addition to Credo. The title, which I'm treating rather improperly, translates to "Of all things visible and invisible."

Rated G, 5.8k words, making this the longest part of Credo to date.

Tags: Post-Scene: Soho 1967 (Good Omens), the inherent romanticism of crime, cereal as a love language, Comedy, Oneshot. Bickering, bickerflirting, POV Crowley, with a tiny bit of, POV Aziraphale, Ineffable Idiots, innuendos, the inherent eroticism of sugary cereal, does this count as, Crowley has a food kink, Author apologises, Author regrets nothing, author spent an inordinate amount of time not very successfully researching sixties cereal branding, Mention of specific branded cereals, hashtag not sponsored, tiny reference to, Period-Accurate Homophobia, Blink and you'll miss it, silliness, Crack Treated Seriously, Footnotes

Two years after Aziraphale stopped Crowley's... caper on the church, he's getting the crew back together for a different heist. Cereal-based silliness ensues.

Excerpt: “By the way, Crowley, I can’t help but notice that you seem to have taken a liking to… eating breakfast? Only, I didn’t think you had such a sweet tooth.” Blessit all. “Uh, nope. Nah. Not much for cereal, me.” He pulled a disinterested grimace, but in the face of several kilos of the stuff in his car, this was rather ineffective. And a little pathetic. Why did the angel have to show up right then, anyway? “I’m on an assignment, is what I am. Yep. Y’know, make a few parent’s lives harder by buying up all of their kids’ favourite cereal.” A thought occurred to him and he grinned at Aziraphale. “So really, you’re enabling an evil deed, here.” “Oh dear!” Aziraphale looked conflicted for a moment, then brightened right up again. “Well… really, those children should not be eating this much sugar, anyway. We’re really doing them a favour!” “Ngk.”

I had an inordinate amount of fun writing this. Half the time I was just cackling to myself :D

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Tagging @goodomensafterdark again, thank you~

[beerok23]

Runaway Groom - Ch. 6

With the essential help of my beta angel @somewhere-in-wales

With the fabulous trailer created by @ineffablerainstorm

Excerpt from Ch. 6 - Sticky Notes

“Uhm…Nina asked me to deliver your dinner.” He pointed at the bag. “Ngk.” (was that sound even a word!?) “Thanks.” “Don’t be so surprised, I can be a decent person. And…uh…I’m sorry for the intrusion.” Aziraphale walked across the room, taking the opportunity to caress Comma once more before leaving. Crowley smiled tenderly at that gesture. “Aziraphale.” He called him before he could leave. He turned around. “Yes?” “Are you…okay?” Crowley asked. And for the first time in his adult life, Aziraphale got the feeling that this man, who was supposed to be his enemy, his adversary, his antithesis, really meant it, when he asked if he was okay. That he really cared for his well-being. And it scared him immensely. Knowing that he could rely on someone he’d met less than a week before. Realising that it felt right to be around him. Feeling that he could trust him. He inhaled deeply, letting out a sigh to steady himself on his own two feet. “I’m good. Thank you…for asking.” “Yeah, mmm…anytime.” Crowley replied shyly.

Tag List:

@moralsofanalleycatsposts @bellisima-writes @pookasluagh @firephoenix2305 @captainblou @shadesofecclescakes @on1occasionfork

[greenthena]

Fanfic update, because Mondays are hard...

“I just remembered,” said Crowley, “I left my classroom unlocked.” He patted his pockets for his keys. “Better go…ngk…take care of that.”

Aziraphale’s lips parted briefly, but he schooled his expression.

“Have a nice summer then, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, holding out his hand. “Mind how you go.”

Crowley swallowed thickly and reached for Aziraphale’s hand. On their first meeting, static electricity had sparked between them, zapping them both. This time, there was no jolt, no flicker of bright energy.

Instead, their hands pressed together for the briefest moment, warm and solid and firm. Crowley sensed it deep in his stomach, a gentle heat that felt like home.

He dropped Aziraphale’s hand as though he’d been burned. Aziraphale withdrew his own hand quickly with a sharp intake of breath.

There was no easy way to do this, was there? No witty little phrase to sooth the hollow now crawling through Crowley’s belly. “Come with me,” he wanted to say. “Let’s get out of here, huh? You and me?” But that wasn’t his place. Not anymore. Certainly not now. He just needed to leave, to get himself out of there and let Aziraphale finish with all the well-wishes from his former colleagues.

“See you around, ‘Ziraphale,” he said finally, his voice like gravel. It was like having gravel in his throat, really, for how difficult it was to get those words over his tongue. His feet were heavy and badly weighted as he tried to turn, but he managed it in one fluid motion. Made it to the door, certain he could feel the focus of Aziraphale’s attention still on his back. At last, he made it down the hall, out into the sunny June afternoon, letting the light spill over his panting face.

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