Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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NASA
EXPECTATIONS
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Andulka
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⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Claire Keane
KIROKAZE
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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JVL
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@blindsite
#BLINDSITE : a study in morality as a grayscale and balance within justice, chaos, and belief.Â
affiliated with : ofeasterngate, longl1ve, cur4tor, embalmic.
mains : anthologicals, etharest, fellandfeathers, inthecemetery, videsnoir/feralmercy.
highest muse activity : mulder, crowley, maja, domhnall (updated 7/17/2026)
carrd. ooc. prompts. muse tags below read more.
@fellandfeathers texted :
[ đ˛ : Crowley ] You looked nice in the turtleneck today
[ đ˛ : Crowley ] although I think you would look better without it
[ đ˛ : angel ] i didn't think you had noticed the change in attire
[ đ˛ : angel ] angel, are you
[ đ˛ : angel ] quite alright?
[ đ˛ : angel ] you say you liked the turtleneck but then basically said the opposite
CROWLEY in "I Know Where I'm Going"
"Of course-" he replies quickly, stroking a hand through the Crowley's hair as the demon tilts his head to look at him. No force on Heaven, Hell or Earth - aside from the demon himself - could currently compell him to walk away.
"I'll stay as long as you like, my love."
It wasn't one of his usual endearments - at least not one he had ever spoken out loud in front of the demon before, but as he uttered those words they felt exactly right. To assure the demon could not interpret them as a slip of the tongue, he dips down his head to press another kiss to his lips, allowing himself to linger in the sensation for a good few seconds, and even then he doesn't so much pull back as simply look for permission to continue.
at the prompt assurance, crowley softens once more. especially so when in combination with the hand in his hair. the angel seemed to want to surprise him at every turn because the near sweet nothing of an endearment was shared. they hadn't .... love hadn't exactly been laid on the table yet. it was clear to him that they had love for each other, but to be aziraphale's love? thoughts raced behind his eyes. maybe, he could tell him tonight then. that was .. certainly seeming like a possibility. heart leapt and soared. he could do a jig, though he wouldn't. and he hoped that if aziraphale saw any of this on his features, that it didn't appear too much like panic.
before he can gather words to address it, there are lips upon his own once more. crowley pushes upwards to meet it a bit better. his hip drags over the gusset of twill trousers, that he was leaning against, to find that ... maybe he was desired in the same manner as his own which burned hot once more. like an encouraging poker had been jabbed into the waning embers of a fire. the demon feels a noise threatening to escape his throat between their embrace and decides not to hold it back : a soft, appreciative moan. and once more the tops of his ears are warm and likely reddened. silk pajama pants do next to nothing to hide his own arousal and he is somehow both blessing and cursing this.
the kiss is getting away from him. he's losing himself in it and realizes that if any of this is going to happen between them, he must speak. so, it's his turn to break from it. drawing up his legs to kneel again between the angel's thighs. this was serious. â angel, aziraphale, â disheveled night shirt hung slightly off one shoulder since the first two buttons had ( of course ) been undone the whole time, his hair was mussed from the hand that had been in it, and though his eyes were heavy-lidded, they were focused onto the other's. â before - well, anything else happens here tonight. i, i have to tell you. â throat clears as his hands drag reluctantly from around the other's back to land on either side of his face, gently cradling neck and cheeks to hold their gazes together. long thumbs stroked over the skin there. the words are said quickly on a breath, â i love you, i'm in love with you, don't know how long for or when, but i do and i am and i thought you should know since earlier you said ... you called me, â chest is heaving with the need for air within it after such a long-winded confession.
gotta leave soon to go back to airport city bc fiance flies out for a different job early tomorrow morning  𫩠but the hotel has a pool and we may be going out for cocktails đĽł
brown eyes swept over the hinged valencia cover, honing in on the tops of knuckles to stare at the latex coated in a aqueous substance. never had she witnessed anything like this before, nor prepared for it, the scene causing the defined bridge of her nose to wrinkle in disgust. just what was she really getting herself into? all of this seemed entirely too routine for him; even after she had caught his face blanching white a few second ago, he brushed it aside like there was nothing wrong in haste. the only thing missing was a tan overcoat and coffee mug in his hand. absolutely bizarre.
lips suck inward when he laughs drily, hesitation dictates her steps even after he gives the go-ahead. gloves snap to wrists whilst she inhales a deep breath, twisting the dark blue cap of the vial to carefully suction the oddly discoloured goop inside. an onset of blinks comes thereafter, waiting until it was full before reaching to gather another.
â well, i can tell you it isn't blood- or . . the normal kind anyway. not that any of this is exactly typical at all, especially with how suspiciously blasĂŠÂ you're reacting about the whole thing.â teeth flash wryly in a grin and an adjacent glance. â care to share with the class as to why, mr. g-man? â
he's already taken a step back, but he moves away even further as the tech takes command of the space. mulder was beyond glad not to be near it which is evident on his face as color returns. though, he does lean around to watch what she does. with distance between he and the substance, it's easier to remain objective.
â yeah, i am assuming an analysis of it will reveal exactly what this is comprised of, but it looks to me, from the color, that blood will be a component. â the stuff wasn't dark red like blood was. it was only a sickly, translucent pink which meant that it definitely had to be partially made of human parts .... if this even came from a human.
at the blasĂŠÂ accusation, an unseen smile pulls at his face. if only she knew. â what? you haven't heard of me? â there was no pleasantry in his voice at that nor was there any ego. the rumor mill at the academy and police stations always churned with talk of him and his reputation. â this, â an all-encompassing gesture at the surroundings, â is my thing. these types of cases. â
the only atrocity that crowley has committed and will continue to commit (we in the year 2026 baby if he hasn't stopped now, he won't) is wearing the world's tightest skinny jeans. the baggy barrel jeans are all over london and meanwhile, his ass and, um, package are nearly on display
đđđ, đđđđđđ & đđđđ đđđđđđđđđđ.
BOLD what does apply to your muse , italicize what applies sometimes ,   strike through what never applies.
đđđ, đđđđđđ & đđđđ đđđđđđđđđđ.
BOLD what does apply to your muse , italicize what applies sometimes ,   strike through what never applies.
sliding into her with a sigh of relief like you are finally coming home
Good Omens 1x3 / 1x6
Amber eyes seem to burn into him as he approaches the couch again. It has a blush spread across his cheeks as lips press together tightly to keep himself from smiling self-consciously. No one has ever looked at him like that - and even in his most depraved fantasies the angel had never conjured up the hungry look that Crowley was currently giving him.
The way Crowley practically crawls onto him has Aziraphale draw in a deep breath he doesn't need, and there is a hint of relief in his features when the demon simply lays down. As much as he wants to continue exploring this new thing between them, he doesn't want it to be rushed. For both of their sakes, because while the signs are perhaps less visible, the angel is certain that Crowley needs to pace himself all the same if they don't want this to end badly.
"What word would you use?", he questions with genuine curiosity, his hands tracing lazy patterns over Crowley's back. Now that the other isn't looking at him directly, he has a chance to take him in properly and he can't help but notice how vulnerable he looks. It touches him that something so rarely allowed to surface over the centuries was now openly displayed and almost without thinking, he presses a kiss into the other's hair.
he noted the blush, noticed the press of the other's lips, how could he not when he was staring at him the way he was? and crowley knows how intently he was looking, so he can't blame the angel for feeling a bit shy or some similar emotion. yet, the demon can't bring himself to stop.
as they lie now, crowley isn't fully relaxed. how can he be when a certain angel's fingers are trailing over his back through the thin cool material of the night shirt. eyes had slipped closed, his nose still nudging and nuzzling at aziraphale's chest through the shirt. unfortunately, something stirs once more deep within his abdomen as his nostrils were filled with the smell he'd only gotten whiffs of in passing ... on a breeze or when inside the bookshop in close quarters. more strongly it was vanilla and bergamot like in the angel's beloved tea. then towards the end, lavender joined the mix and ended with the comforting smell of the bookshop's specific atmosphere even though aziraphale hadn't been within it since they'd took up shop in edinburgh.
â i believe i used the only word i knew for you earlier. â sentence was a bit breathy as he tried to intake air through it. â 's perfect. â a kiss is pressed into his hair and crowley follows after with his own over aziraphale's heart. â are you â would you consider staying here with me tonight? â there were no explicit implications other than not wanting to part from him. they'd only kissed for the first time truly just earlier. so he couldn't possibly expect ... adam's apple bobbed unseen. eyelids parted and his head tilted upwards to look at the other's face above him now. heart is racing again now under the combination of fear of rejection and desire to kiss him again. long fingers clenched and unclenched against aziraphale's back and then tightened finally once more.
diamond sculpted jaw tenses in an instant, lips curling ever so slightly at his unpleasantry. deserved, even if she doesn't think so. the urge to shove him back again inches closer by the secondâuntil he adds to the ire, his next words imparted in a language entirely foreign to her. eyes pop wide in response, rounder and pronounced, blinking incessantly before they scrunch. they dart here and there while her mouth hangs agape, as if trying to decipher the syllables from a perplexing inflection. no, she doesn't like it. and no, she won't take the bait. a sharp tsk from a clanking tongue at her pallet, peering up in a squint toward his half exposed, completely normal, clavicle. not a tinge of discolouration, no gnarly mounds of skin sewn together from the shattered impact of a bullet hole, nor a single adhesive in sight. he's just standing there, blasĂŠ, even humoured, as if the events had never transpired.
disbelief clings to lithe brows, entering his space with intruding fingers to draw the flap of his shirt collar in a lightning-fast snap. still nothing. â ŃŃĐž- where is it?? â another sharp pull, more frantic, more confused. â what?? . . . that- that is not possible. â
as her mouth hangs open, a smile spreads on his face. about damn time she'd learned at least part of her lesson. though, he still had much to teach. blue gaze watched as thoughts whirled through her head and past her eyes. then, she squints at a place on his form and his head dipped to try and look there. ah ... where there was no wound. yes, that would be confusing. an eyebrow quirks at her, waiting to hear if she'd speak again or continue to fish-mouthing at him. and finally, danika enters his space, not that they were far apart to begin with, but she does shock him momentarily. though this is only shown in the quick raise and lower of his brows. her hand at his shirt was not expected at all. there was no weapon in her grasp, so he simply allowed it.
the top button of his old shirt popped and skittered off across the sidewalk. the top of his chest where a smattering of dark hair existed was exposed now. his hand was bought to his mouth and covered his lips in a coy gesture for a moment before dropping to his side again. â if y'wanted my shirt off, y'could have just asked. instead, yer out here ruinin' my favorite shirt. â tongue tsks at the back of his teeth which are slowly becoming exposed as the smile widens. though no fangs yet, just regular ol' asshole grin. â i know what ya are lookin' for. and y'won't find it. as you can see, i'm right as rain. â
Havana Rose Liu Photographed by Dafy Hagai for Nylon Magazine
