One Thousand And One Nights ----

Reblogging my own shit like the shameless whore I am.

snakehandling (or NagaMan and The Snake Toucher) --- --- ---

Painted for the delightful @trebol-negro for an art trade! Naga for naga.

If I aroused a new kink in any of you, I'm not sorry at all.

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If you like my art and want to keep seeing more of it, support me!

ko-fi | prints | commission

@goodomensafterdark

Edit to add: this is in the print shop now.

OP these poses give me life.

together, soft, shining ✨

will you please complete me -------------------------- NEW ART, HOT OFF THE PRESS - FULL SIZE BELOW THE JUMP

Just in time for the /r/GOAD smut war and I'm not even drawing smut! Look at me, being a contrarian. This is a gift for the GOMM Holiday Exchange on Discord for @queenofthecute! Her prompt for the exchange was: "Aziraphale & Crowley and the intimate tenderness of a kiss on the hand/fingers/wrist," which I was only too happy to oblige. What a sweet prompt!

@queenofthecute, I hope you enjoy the final work as much as enjoyed painting it. ⬇️ FULL SIZE, detail shots, and more info below the jump. ⬇️

I LOVE painting Ultraginger Freckled Crowley (TM). It's frankly a sickness at this point.

I'm also learning how to efficiently paint certain things that I used to render totally by hand, and this piece let me practice several materials, namely gold metallics (Aziraphale's pinky ring and fob/chain) and silver metallics (Crowley's slutty little scarf).

About: Photoshop, Orig. 6491x4895; Title from Nine Inch Nails' "Please", a track on The Fragile.

Breathe, echoing the sound Time starts slowing down Sink until I drown Please, I don't ever want to make it stop And it keeps repeating Will you please complete me?

Day 3 of painting. The changes start getting mighty subtle at this point, and I often find myself looking at my screen thinking "what the hell did I even do today?" when a piece is in this final finishing stage. (still a) WIP (p.s. the fork has angel wings on it)

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!)

THIS IS LIBEL AND YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM MY ATTORNEY

Exposing @quona

They told me they didn’t care that I broke my elbow

SO GOOD, OP. SO GOOD.

*crowley imagines what Alpha centauri looks like*

(My fanart btw)

fires beyond the lychgate --- --- ---

prints | ko-fi | commission

May I interest you in some Beltane-themed witchy pollen magic? Revelers dancing around May Day bonfires in the woods? How about we add some lust-addled Crowley and sweaty Priest!Aziraphale to that, too? Yes? I thought so! I painted this for the Spring is Here! High Pollen Count Event in collaboration with the absolutely fantastic @tawnyontumblr. I know you know Tawny's fics. I don't need to tell you how good they are. You can and should go read the fic that inspired this painting on AO3: 🔥 All Fired Up by TawnyOwl95 🔥 (Rated Explicit, mind the tags!)

The trunk of the birch tree was smooth against Aziraphale's back. He held on to one of the branches above his head, getting bark dust in his nails as Crowley sucked on his jaw. The last of Aziraphale’s buttons came open, his shirt now only held in place by his clerical collar. Crowley's hands moved down, and Aziraphale's belt hissed as it was drawn from its loops. If Aziraphale turned his head he could still see the fire flickering through the trees, the shadows flitting back and forth. If someone came this way - Aziraphale didn't care. His mind was full of Crowley. The drums still beat in time with the blood pounding, rising up as Crowley's mouth coaxed it to the surface of Aziraphale's skin, fed on him like a starving man.

The full piece:

...and some detail shots from the high res:

@goodomensafterdark, love you goblins, hope you like my art.

Working on the Rennies again

WIP

Of Snowbirds and Hearthstones, a Ren Faire AU, Explicit on AO3, by @cemeteryangel725

Oh someone got our poem reference, @thescholarlystrumpet !

For anyone interested, the title of my flappers painting comes from a beautiful poem, "For the Goddess Too Well Known", by Elsa Gidlow, a British-born Canadian-American poet who published the first openly lesbian book of poetry in North America in 1923 (!), titled On A Grey Thread.

For the Goddess Too Well Known

I have robbed the garrulous streets,

Thieved a fair girl from their blight,

I have stolen her for a sacrifice

That I shall make to this night.

I have brought her, laughing,

To my quietly dreaming garden.

For what will be done there

I ask no man pardon.

I brush the rouge from her cheeks,

Clean the black kohl from the rims

Of her eyes; loose her hair;

Uncover the glimmering, shy limbs.

I break wild roses, scatter them over her.

The thorns between us sting like love's pain.

Her flesh, bitter and salt to my tongue,

I taste with endless kisses and taste again.

At dawn I leave her

Asleep in my wakening garden.

(For what was done there

I ask no man pardon.)

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

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