"Scheming" ✨

the cake is an unsubtle metaphor WIP

Aziraphale is eating cake and Crowley is *eating cake* (off-screen for the purposes of this WIP and also so that I don't get banned from Tumblr)

WIP

(I poat full-sized WIPs on my Patreon!)

long haired crowley this, duke of hell crowley that, i think the only correct option to hope for is crowley in a kilt:

post-divorce outfit slay that has aziraphale rattling heaven's bars to get back down while we are all having collective aneurysms

Hambleden R.P. Tyler x Bus Driver, Enemies to lovers slow burn.

I ship it.

Someone please help Karen Tyler's cat tho, it looked so fucking uncomfy with the situation.

Ok, the funniest thing just happened right at the end of The Ineffable Con.

So short, some of us took a trip to Tadfield with like busses and it was all really lovely organized, and we had rented the community building thing, and walked around the village (which really is tiny, like there are 3 streets) and taking pictures of benches and streets and shit, then eat some crepes and hang out in the building.

9pm comes and we get ready to board the busses back, when who rund out and starts shouting, the realy life version of R.P. Tyler.

Like, Im not kidding. Old guy, with a dog and a stick up his ass so far, it's tickling his brain.

He starts yelling how we are to loud and we should leave...while blocking us from leaving.

His shouting seems to attract more people, since people comes out of their houses to watch or yell too. Some are holding dogs or cats, some are saying we are traumatising their pets.

Another person comes and tries to mediate between the villagers and the bus drivers.

Honestly, that was the best ending and they will never know why we found the whole thing so funny.

i used to be too shy to interact w fanfic authors, but after i finally started to do so, that i realised they're the same @ me

Painting the eyes has always been my favorite part of any portrait. Current WIP. Will probably be the next finished piece I post, unless Something Terrible happens.

THE RED DEMON EYES ON BARK RUFFALO THO

David Tennant at the BAFTAs, with Bark Ruffalo.

Crowlyfied version as well

sketch to lines

alone in kyoto -------------------------------------------

prints | ko-fi | commission [edit: prints available for this one] Crowley in Edo period Japan on her way to the beach to find out what the Fisherman's Wife was going on about. This piece is the second of THREE that I painted for the VERY FIRST ISSUE EVER of /r/GoodOmensAfterDark's WINGZ Magazine, a filthy smut rag that all of us---editors, directors, writers, and visual artists alike---are very proud to present to you. Check it out here: WINGZ Mag Spring '24 (Reddit) Direct link (PDF, 90MB) Direct link for Mobile (PDF, 8MB)

Detail shots in full res after the jumppppppp

@goodomensafterdark

i have brought her laughing (to my quietly dreaming garden) ------------------------------ The scene: A smoky, velvet-lined speakeasy smudged carelessly somewhere in the pocket of a roaring, glittered New York City, 1924, nighttime. Prohibition is on, but the law books never really dissuade anyone from getting a drink, not if they know where to go. It sure as Hell doesn't stop Crowley from taking her Angel out for a drink, because Aziraphale wanted one. And hey, it's the jazz age, Crowley knows where to get weed again.

This painting is one half of a collaboration I did with my dear friend @thescholarlystrumpet, who wrote a fantastic companion piece on AO3 (Rated M, mind the drug use tag).

“I got something else to liven up your final night in town. If you’re feeling a little… daring.” Crowley looked sidelong at Aziraphale and arched one penciled-on brow. Aziraphale wiggled happily and slid off the stool to sidle closer, until her head was practically on the Demon’s bare shoulder. “Do tell.”  Crowley tried not to shiver as she could feel the Angel’s breath against her heated skin, smell the heady potpourri of perfume, wine, and a pinch of ethereal sweat, taste it on her (currently unforked) tongue. She held up the expertly rolled joint between two fingers accented by red painted talons. “It’s been a very long time, I think, since we really… indulged.” Turning her head just so, nearly nose to nose with her friend. “Don’t you think we’ve earned it?” “Why, you wicked temptress,” Aziraphale murmured, her voice low and slightly breathless, sly smile belying any hint of admonishment. 

full size and detail shots after the jump

GO READ THIS FIC INSPIRED BY MY ART, PLS, IT'S GREAT

Original: don't fret precious, i'm here

@goodomensafterdark

Aziracrow Birthday Fic for Quona!

Here's a brand spanking new fic for the one and only @quona for their birthday (yes I know I'm a little late, shhh!)

It's based off of their own fantastic artwork which you can see here

Title: I'm Here 

Words: 8.5k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Crowley awakens from an awful dream to discover that Aziraphale had not in fact left him again, and was actually right there next to him in bed. Aziraphale tries to reassure him, but some wounds take more than just time to heal, if only Crowley could tell his angel what he needs.

Check out the tags on AO3