Angel’s Trumpets (Brugmansia) Are Believed To Be Extinct In The Wild But Are Commonly Seen In Gardens

MYGOD I can feel it in my bones

Ineffable

You can support me on my patreon, where I post my process, NSFW art which is monstly exclusive for patrons, and other cool stuff.

https://www.patreon.com/ThistleArts

And you can by artprint of this artwork in my etsy store

https://www.etsy.com/listing/702484908/ineffable-husbands-original-digital?ref=shop_home_active_15

I'm always looking forward to two things: new chapter of Loosely Ballroom AND new fanart of Loosely Ballroom (and I am not sure which one I love more 😅 ) This is pure happiness. I don't smoke and I don't like it, but I can watch them as smoking all day.

Guys, if you haven't started reading yet, do so now please. And LOOK AT THEM, LOOK.

Loosely Ballroom bump! This pic is from Week 4 (Chapt 5) but you should check out the newly posted chap 6! 

Good omens strictly come dancing AU!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438355/chapters/60976732

sunday afternoon plans, at the usual spot

prints available here, an addition to my growing GO print roster haha.. i’ll be at rose city comic con in portland with this and a few other pieces on 9/13!

This gives me chills.

4:00 pm

Oil on Canvas- ‘Good Omens’, the Garden of Eden in the style of Van Gogh

It was my first time using oils rather than acrylics or watercolor, but this was so much fun to make. And it was totally worth all of the oil paint fumes to see the look on my friend’s face when I gave it to him for his birthday. I can’t thank the creators of this wonderful series enough for inspiring me to make all these artworks and projects as well as for being what brought me and my amazing friend together

I still don't believe they did it. 

We made a little thing, to celebrate 30 years of Good Omens, and to cheer people up. I hope you like it. Feel free to reblog...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=quSXoj8Kob0&feature=youtu.be

Could someome make me tea, please?

It’s midnight.

They’re on the steps of the Ritz, and the moon is full, and a nightingale had sung in Berkeley Square. The air is fresh, crisp, soft, right after a quick rain, and they’re both looking at the Bentley, which is parked across the street without a droplet

They realize that there isn’t a car puttering across otherwise, that it’s quiet, that they are the last to leave the establishment after getting totally and utterly sloshed in the name of the world not ending.

Then they’re looking at each other. The golden light coming from the windows is spraying across Aziraphale’s pink face, and he’s smiling, and Crowley is smiling right back. They are a couple of drunk morons standing outside in the twilight, basking in each other’s company.

Is this not love?

“Need a lift?” Crowley asks this partly as an inside joke, partly as a literal inquiry; there’s something very slightly pained in his voice - an expectation. An expectation that this night would end as any other would between them: with Crowley sprawled across his own bed, in the dark, lamenting what he did and did not say, and Aziraphale awake all night, curled up with a book he pretends he is reading.

It’s fear, not pain. That nothing would change. Or rather - that they wouldn’t know that nothing had changed.

Now, Aziraphale is drunk, yes. But he is not drunk enough to note the slight panic Crowley is masking, and his smile is even pretty as it fades to something still warm, but serious.

“My dear…”

Crowley feels a lump in his throat, and tries to remember if he thoroughly chewed what little food he had had this evening.

They’re staring at each other. They’re looking at each other and seeing each other, even past Crowley’s glasses. Because the golden glow from behind just barely renders them useless, and matches his eyes just so.

“Where are you?” Aziraphale whispers.

“-What?” Something high-pitched, surprised.

“Where are you, dear? Are you with me? Here? Now?”

“What kind of a- yes- yes of course, where else would I be?”

“Because- dear- I… I would like to hold your hand.”

The request catches Crowley off-guard; he’s halfway thinking through a clever comeback to whatever Aziraphale would have said next when suddenly, his heart aches, and he’s forced to acknowledge what he hopes is the outcome of the evening. And he’s not talking about sharing a bed - no.

Suddenly, he’s flustered about their hands, touching, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to make that leap even if he wanted to, not yet. No, he’s suddenly shivering, vibrating, with eyes darting to his angel’s outstretched hand.

Stupid, stupid, you’re fucking up, oh fuck-

So he jerks his body into motion, looking like he was just struck by lightning, and breathes out into the crackling air to carefully - carefully - press his left hand to Aziraphale’s, fingertips to wrist, palm to palm. His own is smooth, bony, cold, but it feels like he had just rested it on warmed silk. Soft, broad, welcoming.

They’re standing there. They’re staring at each other. They’re staring at their hands, at their ring fingers pressed side by side, imagining what it would be like to have matching bands clink together every time they did this hereafter. To be known this intimately, to know the lines of each other’s palms without practicing, is a gift both of them can give.

Crowley is the first to move; he caressed his thumb across Aziraphale’s, finds a pliant joint that folds around his fingers, welcomes him against his skin, against his body.

“We’re holding hands…” he murmurs, is greeted by the return of that angelic smile.

“That we are, darling.”

Now, it feels as if his heart has stopped completely. A heat creeps up from his chest to the tips of his ears, and gathers in his cheeks.

Suddenly, he is home. And he knows that everything - and nothing, thankfully - has changed.

“Walk me home now, dear. I’ll make us some tea.”

I’m so im love with your art style! Can’t stop staring on it, just can’t.

If I haven't loved Crowley yet, I would fall for him right here and right now.

Finally fricking finishing this painting was not intentionally coordinated with recent ~events~ but I will absolutely take it. You can read a little more about my long journey with this painting in the last post. I'm just....really really happy with it. Happy to have worked on it, and happy it's done. Still thinking about a title. ✨PRINTS✨ I'll be doing a Shop Update this Saturday, July 3rd, with: - Open Edition prints - Limited Edition prints, hand-embellished with gold watercolor (details soon) Love you all (and....goes without saying. S2 👏🙌🤩)

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