#LIKES & REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

[faunandfloraas]

Honestly I think a lot of people who have never made a gif for tumblr don't get that it does actually take time and effort, its not just rip it from a video and post it- you have to download the video, in my case I have a video player installed that grabs continuous caps, figure out what parts you need, you have to open those in photoshop or gimp, depending on where you got photoshop you might be paying for it every month and then on top of that is actually sizing, cropping, colouring, sharpening, adding text, etc. etc. like it is something that takes time and effort for which the only real reward is creating something that makes you happy and hopefully people reblog it with a nice or funny tag, so maybe keep that in mind the next time you think gif makers are being mean or unfair for being upset about reposts. It is its own little artform that is fairly unique to this website, and that's a big aspect of why I have always loved tumblr, if all the gifmakers stopped posting things would be a lot more boring around here.

[laurrelise]

hi here’s some five sketches

can you tell which one is my favorite

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories For a Demon, Night 3: The Girl Who Knew Despair (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

*Endgame spoilers for Veilguard ahead

** No seriously if you havent played to the end of the game dont read this

Soft candlelight flickering. An exuberant chorus of voices outside the door, celebrating victory. The smell of alcohol and Embrium and Elfroot in the Diamond’s infirmary. The Cantori Diamond, still standing like the rest of Treviso. Free of the Blight and the wrath of a God’s anger.

Thanks to Rook.

Madeleina.

Lucanis sits on a wooden chair by her bed. He asked Teia for a private room in the infirmary – a request she was happy to accommodate for Treviso’s saviour.

As grateful as he is for her help in Treviso – and he is incredibly grateful, he’s equally infuriated by her recklessness in battle. Not many can claim to have injured a Blighted dragon and lived to tell the tale, but even fewer would have been stupid enough to try and conceal a mortal wound until they were bleeding out on the ground.

He remembers the blood spilling like a crimson waterfall from her mouth. Choked gasps for air as she drowned in it. The thud of her body as it hit the ground while Viago was mid-sentence thanking her for her help.

A shard of ice from the dragon’s last attack before it fled had lodged itself into her chest, piercing her right lung. She must have quickly removed it before anyone else noticed, and her thick mage’s overcoat hid the worst of the damage. The dragon’s attacks only left them with enough time to worry about their own survival – hurling cold, sharp death their way with brutal force and terrifying speed. Even with Spite’s wings, he was barely able to dodge them.

He and Davrin quickly dragged her back to the Diamond, with the help of Teia and Viago to clear the way for them.

Madeleina was still choking on her own blood.

Hemothorax, he thought bitterly. Mierda.

The idiot actually apologized to him for getting her blood on his nice coat while her death rattles filled the air. He is fairly certain he told her to shut up. He desperately hoped those were not the last words he would ever say to her.

Lucanis started barking out orders for supplies – alcohol, a thick needle, and a mage who could heal. He needed to decompress the pressure on her lung and get the blood out before it completely collapsed. One of their mages, Lucrezia, stood at the ready to assist. She had given Madeleina a cloth to bite down on. Davrin, Teia, and Viago stood around the bed and held her limbs down.

Mercifully, Spite was quiet enough to let him get through the procedure. One he hadn’t done in a long time, but still remembered well enough.

He poured alcohol over exposed chest to sanitize the skin.

He inserted the needle through the fourth and fifth ribs in the mid-axillary line. The mage sucked the blood out of her chest, using wind magic to create a vacuum. The blood came flowing out and spattered onto the floor. Agonized cries through the fabric of the towel. Terror on her face, limbs shaking, while he stitched her back up. The mage casts a healing spell to help mend the rest of the damage and hopefully restore some of what was lost.

Then, silence as she finally fell asleep.

Davrin, the new member of the group, stood beside her after Teia and Viago had left.

“Is she going to be alright?” He asked quietly.

Lucanis didn’t have an answer for him. He was fairly certain she was out of immediate life-threatening danger. But she lost a lot of blood, and nearly lost a lung. Only time would tell how well she would recover. If she would fully recover.

“I’ll watch over her – you should go back to the Eluvian. See if you can help Neve and the others in Minrathous. It might not be too late” He answered, nodding towards the door. “We’ll meet you back at the Lighthouse when she wakes up”

When, not if, because he refused to let her die for the crime of choosing to help him. He didn’t need that on his conscience.

Mercifully, Davrin didn’t fight him on it and left soon after.

He’s not sure exactly how much time has passed. There’s no windows in the infirmary, so he measures it in forehead towel changes. Four by now, at least. Maybe a few hours he estimates.

A soft and pained groan, and the rustling of bed sheets fill the quiet room. He looks up to see Madeleina’s green eyes fluttering. She hisses and holds her right side, her face twisting with pain. She coughs, but this time, no blood comes sputtering out of her mouth. The warm towel on her forehead slips off.

“L-Lucanis?” she asks quietly, blinking at him with glassy eyes. She groans again “Ahh… Venhedis…”

“Hey, take it easy” Lucanis holds a hand in front of her, “Try not to move too much right now”

Madeleina frowns, and speaks with no small amount of strained effort “We … won … right?”

“We did. But you almost died” He points to her chest, “Would have died, if that wound kept bleeding out. Why did you try to hide it?”

“Didn’t want … to ruin the …  ‘we survived… a Blighted dragon attack’… party” She smiled weakly. Her voice was raspy and uneven. She was gasping between words. “You … know me … I hate to bring… down the mood…”

Lucanis clapped a hand to his forehead, “Mierda… unbelievable”

His frustration only grows when he sees her trying to sit up, grunting with effort. “What did I just say? You’ll rip your stitches.”

I worked hard on those, he wants to add.

“Min…rathous …. Need to get … back” She winces as another wave of pain sweeps through her body. Madeleina manages to get herself upright and leans against the headboard of the bed. “Neve … Shadow Dragons…”

Lucanis frowned deeply, “You’re not going anywhere. And if you are, it’s back to the Lighthouse.”

Madeleina sighs and leans her head back, hitting it against the headboard softly. She looks utterly defeated.

“They need my help Lucanis…” she whispers, staring at the opposite wall. She’s starting to blink away tears. “I … I left my city to burn”

He’s not sure how to comfort her. He settles by saying what is in his heart, uncertain if it will be enough to assuage her guilt.

“But Treviso lives to fight another day because of you. Free of the blight, free of Ghilan’nain” He pulls his chair closer to the edge of her bed. “And none of us will ever forget it. I won’t forget it”

Lucanis realizes she was forced into an impossible decision. Madeleina was a Shadow Dragon, she was from Minrathous. He didn’t expect her to aid Treviso. But the relief that flooded his chest when he saw her come to his home’s defense was indescribable.

A tense quiet passes between them. He watches, helplessly, as she bites her tongue to keep a deluge of tears from streaming down her face.

“You saved a lot of people today” Lucanis says quietly.

Madeleina shuts her eyes tight and bit down on her bottom lip. Her voice is quivering as she replies, “And doomed so many more.”

“You don’t know that” He leans forward. “Davrin left some time ago to help, he might have- “

“Don’t” She hisses, her chest heaving. “Don’t … do that”  

His brows lift in surprise, taken aback. “Do what?”

The defeated look on her face as she turns to him makes his heart sink into his stomach.

“Give me hope …” Madeleina says weakly, as her shoulders start quaking. “I … I don’t … deserve…”  

He isn’t sure if letting her cry it out is the right thing to do, but lets the sound of her quiet sobbing fill the little room. The weight, the magnitude of the choice she had to make is not lost on him. How unfair it all was. Few things in life are fair, he knows that better than anyone. But forcing someone as young as her make that kind of choice had to be up there.

He sees Spite manifesting beside her bed, a purple doppelganger of him. Spite leans in closer, it’s face – his face, twisting with anger.

Smells like salt and ice and smoke. Not right. Not RIGHT. The demon howls. Lucanis pinches his nose bridge and sighs. Spite’s gaze drifts between Madeleina and Lucanis. He frowns at Lucanis, Make. Her. Right.

“Mierda, not now Spite…” Lucanis whispers, exasperated.

Madeleina sniffles and stops crying for a moment. Her eyes are red and puffy. She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her tunic. “Spite’s bothering you?”

Lucanis crosses his arms over his chest and frowns, “Don’t worry about Spite. You have enough to deal with right now”

She looks around the room, as if she could see him.

“Would Spite … like a story?” Madeleina asks, after a few moments of silence.

Spite tilts his head and leans in closer to Madeleina. He grins maniacally and nods. Yes. Story. That will make her Right.

Lucanis is quick to answer, “Absolutely not. You need to rest, Madeleina. Leave Spite to me”

He’s still not used to the feeling of her name on his tongue.

She sucks in a deep breath, one hand holding her right side. Then, she’s looking at him with an uncharacteristically stern look on her face. “You … always say that”

“Say what?”

“That Spite… is only your problem” She grips her blanket tighter.

“He’s my demon. Of course he’s my problem”

Madeleina sniffles again, her brows drawing together. “That’s not … how being on a team works, Lucanis. We help each other”

“You’ve helped me more than enough” He replies, gesturing around the room, “You saved my home. I can’t ask any more of you than you’ve already given”

Madeleina blinks slowly and draws her knees to her chest, considering his words.

“I … want to help …” She frowns, and she’s staring at the opposite wall again.

Spite’s apparition has disappeared, but he can still feel the demon rattling in the back of his mind.

“You can help by resting” Lucanis rises from his chair, “Are you hungry? I can bring you something to eat”

Madeleina shakes her head. “No… but … will you stay? Just for a little bit”

He stands above her for a moment, letting the request hang between them. He knows he should let her get some rest before they make their way back to the Lighthouse. Before she has to face the other side of her decision. Yet, he finds himself increasingly unable to say no to her bright green eyes and tired smile, and that worries him deeply. What it means, what it could mean.

He sits back down in the small wooden chair, and she gives him a weak smile.

“Thank you”

“It’s the least I can do” he returns the smile in kind.

Madeleina is quiet for a moment. Thoughtful.

She raises one hand, and it starts glowing a familiar blue.

“Madeleina – “

“Please – just let me tell the story” He knew her well enough to know that tone would brook no argument. He can do nothing but gesture for her to continue.

“At least one person ought to know”

Her face awash in eerie blue light, Madeleina flicks her wrist.

She looks like she is struggling to keep the illusion alive. He sees a bird’s eye view of a small village, nestled between a dense forest and a mountain range. It flickers in and out and lacks the usual care and detail of her illusions.

“Once… upon a time … in a land far, far away…” her voice is shaking, and she’s using her free hand to keep pressure on her right side. “There was a small farming village. And… in that village… lived a family.”

Another flick of her wrist and the mountainside village vanishes, now replaced by three figures. The man is tall and lanky. He has a lyre strapped to his back. His hair is wild and curly, much like Madeleina’s. His eyes look like hers too. The figure of the woman is maybe a head shorter, with long, pin-straight hair. She has Madeleina’s high cheekbones. The same nose and lips and heart-shaped face. Finally, he sees the figure of a young girl. A young Madeleina. All wiry limbs and wild curls.

“Eurydice, Orpheus and their daughter”

The figures rotate in the air between them.

“Eurydice ran the town’s bakery, and Orpheus played at the local tavern”

The figures ripple and a young Madeleina is now helping the figure of her mother bake bread.

Madeleina’s glassy eyes looked sorrowful.

“They didn’t have much. The village was small… there were no mages … only regular people.”

She smiled ruefully. “But they were happy. Orpheus,” She paused and waved him back into existence, “Kept their home alive with music and stories” He’s playing the lyre for his wife and daughter, while he chases her around an invisible room.

“And Eurydice made sure a warm meal was always on the table”

Her mother brings a plate of something to the young Madeleina, who wastes no time devouring it.

Madeleina sucked in a deep, shaky breath, before continuing.

“One day, their daughter discovers she can use magic”

The figure of young Madeleina is laughing as blue spheres of light dance around her. The figure of her mother brushes a hand through her unruly hair and pulls her into a tight hug. The figures ripple, and she furrows her brow to concentrate harder. They become solid again.

“Her parents are so happy for her. It means she will become Laetan, instead of Soporati. A chance for a better life. Her mother wants to do something for her”

Madeleina winks out of the scene, and Eurydice is pulling a garment out of a small chest.

“A new dress, she thinks… One from her youth. Her daughter is finally big enough to wear it” Madeleina blinks another tear from her eyes. “But wants to dye it her daughter’s favourite colour. She can’t afford a fancy dye but can make her own. Her daughter wants to help. She’s old enough to go pick the elderberries deep in the woods.”

The figure of the mother disappears, and a young Madeleina is in the forest bordering the village, placing berries in a large wicker basket.

“But the girl didn’t know what was coming for them, or she never would have gone to the forest that day”

He frowns, and a feeling of dread takes hold deep in his chest. He knows that whatever comes next is not likely to lead to a happy ending.

“A Venatori blood mage had escaped capture in Ventus.” The young Madeleina flickers out of existence and is replaced with a tall, cloaked figure, holding a stave in one hand and an amulet, glowing bright crimson, in the other.

“He held a dangerous amulet in his possession. The Amulet of Liberum” Madeleina whispers, “Forged by a Dreamer centuries ago, it held a pocket of the Fade inside it. Allowed the wearer to store an infinite number of demons and summon them at will with blood magic”

The cloaked figure arrives at the border of the village, her village. It takes a knife and runs it across his hand. The blood seeps onto the amulet in the other. The bright red glow becomes even more intense, and a horde of demons springs forth. They rampage through the streets, tearing the nameless and faceless villagers apart.

The scene shifts to her parents, backing away from the demons. The father, Orpheus, stands in front of the mother with a small dagger. It does him little good. They are both swiftly torn apart by demons.

The figure of the mage comes back into view, and sucks them back into the amulet, before disappearing.

Madeleina’s expression shifts between anger, grief and sadness. Something he is intimately familiar with.

“The girl comes back from the forest to see her entire village slaughtered”

The form of young Madeleina drops the wicker basket. She is walking through the main path of the village, by ruined houses and bodies torn apart. Bodies of people she once knew.

She comes to a lone house on a hill. Her home.

Madeleina breathes in sharply.

“Madeleina – you don’t have to …” He begins, but she holds a hand up to stop him.

“Yes, I do” she says, resolute. She shifts on the cot and brings the illusion back to life.

The young Madeleina is standing over the bodies of her parents, mutilated beyond recognition. She falls to her knees, and the figure starts screaming. He can almost hear it. The raw anguish rippling in the air like a shockwave.

“She screams and screams until her throat is dry” Madeleina says quietly, “Keeps going until she’s cried herself to sleep.”

The young Madeleina is still on her knees, her eyes closed, and the bodies of her parents disappear.

“In her dreams … a voice finds her in the Fade”

A faceless figure, layered in several layers of tattered cloaks, hovers above her.

“‘Have you lost all hope, child? Has it become too much to bear?’ The voice asks her. And it was … it was all too much …” Madeleina says, her voice barely above a whisper. “The voice offered to take her pain, her regret – everything, away. ‘So much for one so young’ it said”

Lucanis frowns. Spite’s rage prickled under his skin like a starved beast gnawing at the bars of its cage. Spite hates Despair.

He watches as the familiar blue glow of Madeleina’s figure starts to change colour. Veins of black light crawl up her legs.

“The Demon’s name was Despair. And it would eat everything she was, everything she would be”

As the tendrils of black light crawled further and further up her body, Madeleina continued.

“It ate her love, her hope, her joy” her lip quivered, and the figures flickered again. “It ate up her life until nothing was left”

Lucanis made a fist as waves of rage surged through the back of his head, the pressure behind his eyes mounting.

The tendrils were now creeping along the left side of her face. The figure only looked up at the Despair demon above it and continued to be consumed.

“But the girl didn’t know that the Templars who had tracked the maleficar had arrived at the village. One of them, a young man by the name of Tiberian Mercar, found her” She waved the figure of a tall man, adorned in Templar heavy plate armour, into existence.

“He would have been right to strike her down where she stood. She was becoming possessed. She was becoming an abomination” Madeleina wiped a stray tear from her eye with her free hand.

“To this day, she’ll never understand why he didn’t.”

The Templar, instead of drawing his sword, steps closer to the young girl. Lucanis watches with bated breath as he pulls the girl into a hug.

“’It will be alright child, you are going to be alright’” She says, her voice hitching. “Whether he really meant it, or he was just trying to comfort a girl moments away from dying, she’ll never know”

A bright, golden light shines from the figure of the Templar, and then slowly envelops the young Madeleina. The black light is dying out, overcome by the warm glow shared by the two figures.

“But that simple act of kindness brought her back from the brink of despair, from the brink of the abyss” Madeleina’s lips quirk into a sad smile. “He saved her that day, in more ways than one”

The Templar and the girl stand and begin walking away from the cloaked figure.

“The Templar couldn’t take care of her, so he asks his brother to adopt her into his family” She waves to life four new figures – a man, a woman, and two small boys. “His brother agrees, and she goes to live with them” The young Madeleina walks away from the Templar and towards her new family.

“The Mercars are a military family. One of a precious few non-mage families in Tevinter who enjoy more than a modest life” Madeleina explains, “She’s given an education, nice clothes, and a seat in the Circle of Minrathous. But everything comes at a cost”

The figures all wink out of existence, and are replaced by Madeleina, in apprentice robes, standing alone amongst a sea of other robed figures.

“She can never whisper her old name – the one her parents gave her. She can never tell anyone she’s not a true Mercar.” She fists her blanket, gathering the fabric in her right hand. “When the family agreed to take her in, they erased all of what she was. She was not a foundling, but a long-lost member of the family. She’s named after a great-great-great-great-grandmother, the last in their lineage to be born a mage. It gave them more legitimacy that way”

Madeleina’s eyes fall and all the figures disappear. “And in time… she forgets who she was before she joined them. Forgets her own name”

She brings her knees closer to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Lucanis releases a breath. He wants so badly to reach out. A hand on her shoulder. A hand on her arm. Anything to provide some kind of comfort. But all he can do is listen, as if some invisible rope binds his arms to his sides.

Madeleina gestures with her left hand, and a young Madeleina is standing next to an older, tall, rather handsome man.

“But she wants to help, so she finds those in the Magisterium working for the greater good” She continues. “She finds Magister Dorian Pavus, and he brings her into the Shadow Dragons. He gives her a cover to use so her family doesn’t grow suspicious. She tries to do good, tries to make use of the second chance she was given”

The figures blink out of existence a moment later. Her face falls. “But she never feels like she’s ever going to get there. Always feels like she's falling short of some unattainable goal”

“Madeleina…” Lucanis starts, but he doesn’t know where to go from there. What to say.

“That’s why I chose to come to Treviso” Madeleina is looking at him now. “I… I didn’t want another defenseless city to suffer the same fate as my home town – as Arvanitum did”

Lucanis clasps his hands together in front of him and leans forward.

“Whatever the reason you chose to help us … just know we’re grateful” He gives her a small smile. “Thank you for sharing that with me”

Madeleina gives him a weary smile in return. “It feels nice to have someone know … the Shadow Dragons, Dorian, Neve – I was never able to tell any of them. On paper, there are no survivors from Arvanitum. On paper, I am dead”

Lucanis rises to his feet and takes the towel from her pillow.

“For whatever it’s worth …. I’m glad you’re only dead on paper” He chuckles and twists the towel in his hands. “But you need to stop tempting fate, hm? Contract is no good if the employer dies”

Madeleina snorts, “I promise if I get another mortal wound, I’ll come right to you”

Lucanis grins, “Deal”

He motions to the bed, “Get some rest, we’ll go back to the Lighthouse when you’re ready”

Madeleina groans as she slithers back down into the bed. She yawns and turns to her side. “Alright … I should… need…. to check in with Varric soon ….”

Lucanis hesitates a moment before leaving the room. As he closes the door, he wonders to himself.

Who is Varric?

[rileyclaw]

my august commissions are open!!

commission TOS link

[foolishlovers]

CO-WORKER AUs: Below you can find a list of Good Omens AUs in which Crowley and Aziraphale are co-workers. (oh my god they were co-workers)

[Requested by anon. You can request more fic recs here.]

Hit me with your ledger by KissMyAsthma (G, 1k) Corporate accountant Aziraphale has been infatuated with his coworker Crowley for a long time, but he has done nothing about it. One day, opportunity strikes and… Sometimes, an accidental nude is all it takes to score a date.

Get Down by AppleSeeds (T, 3k) When Aziraphale calls downstairs asking them to send up someone to fix the fax machine in his office, he doesn't expect them to send the most handsome and stylish man he's ever encountered in his entire life. Hopefully he won't end up doing anything foolish to embarrass himself.

The Piano Serpent by journeytogallifrey (T, 3k) Aziraphale owns The Flaming Sword, which is one of the premier gay bars in London. Everyone knows this… except for their pianist, Crowley. While the regulars take bets over whether he's the clueless straight person he seems, Aziraphale just tries to prevent himself from falling further. But one night Crowley plays a song written specially to honor their regulars, and Aziraphale can't hold the truth in any longer. How will Crowley react? Will the truth really set them free?

Hold the Lift by CemeteryAngel725 (T, 5k) Crowley just wants to get to work on time, but when he gets stuck in a lift with new guy Aziraphale, he ends up with a lot more than he bargained for. See, Aziraphale has this list of 36 questions…

!False (It's Funny Because It's True) by MirjamOmens (E, 6k) Aziraphale drew a long breath through his nose. Crowley, of course it had to be Crowley. The new guy in the sales department, who would promise potential customers just about anything to close a deal. Arrogant, annoying – and wildly, stupidly attractive. Aziraphale hated him. Aziraphale is a stellar software architect and a project manager, who is so done with the sales department selling unrealistically scheduled and budgeted projects. And he definitely doesn't have a crush on anyone, thank you very much.

Bang This Out? by crepesandoysters (E, 9k) As far as work friendships go, Aziraphale and Crowley have won the jackpot. They work well together and know how to make each other laugh, the whole metaphorical package. They could even be called best friends. Or, at least, they could be called that until today. Today comes with a kiss, and the kiss comes with more. A lot more if it were up to them. Except that their workplace seems to have other ideas.

Cock Tales by TawnyOwl95 (E, 12k) Crowley’s love life is on the rocks so he finally swears off men. Typical that his new job places him with a co-worker who's so straight up sexy. Or in which, Aziraphale tries to mix things up, Crowley is shaken and Anathema is a right stirrer. But could a relationship be worth a shot?

I'm Beginning to See the Light by ineffabildaddy (E, 15k) There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

House Style by soft_october (M, 24k) “Since that's all settled, the real question is did he give you his number?” Anathema laughed. “He was looking at you the way you look at lunch.” “Forget lunch!” Michael declared. “He was looking at you the way you were looking at him!” Aziraphale is content in his job as an editor at Celestial Publishing, though he could go for a bit less of doing his boss' job for him. But everything goes a bit screwy when the CEO brings in a consultant with plans to build a program that will turn the entire editorial department on its head. If only he wasn't so handsome.

All Lines Are Open by TawnyOwl95, FeralTuxedo (E, 21k) Anthony Crowley, bored host of a trite call-in radio show on Tadfield FM, has very few pleasures in life beyond annoying his long-suffering producer Aziraphale. When a caller reports suspicious activity at the abandoned Tadfield Manor, Crowley is determined to investigate, dragging Aziraphale along. Both of them are going to get more than they bargained for. A local radio AU

Heavenly Wicked Cafe by WaitingToBeBroken (T, 33k) There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T, 40k) Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones.   AU based on The Office.

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (M, 41k) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

because thinking makes it so by summerofspock, NaroMoreau (E, 41k) It's supposed to be an exchange. An arrangement. Something to make them both feel better and less lonely. But Crowley's never had the brightest ideas.

Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E, 51k) The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so.

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

Wild Hearts by foolishlovers (E, 124, WIP) In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.

Sugar And Spice by SylWritesStuff, ladydragona (E, 179k, WIP) Queer technology giant Anthony J. Crowley is just about ready to throw in the towel after relationship after relationship has failed, but there's a new barista at the company coffee shop and he's cute and sweet and Crowley's never been able to resist blond hair and blue eyes. The tabloids will have a field day, they always do, but his assistant is getting married and a temp is needed. A temp who really isn't very good at making complicated coffees, has past experience in reception, and absolutely no idea that the latest complicated coffee order came from the owner himself. Aziraphale only knows that he's handsome, patient, and was the first person who told him he was doing well. How could he refuse the temp position? Or, he soon discovers, more.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

[silly-scribbles]

HAPPY ONE-YEAR TADC-VERSARY !!

Today, October 13th, the pilot to the Amazing Digital Circus first premiered on YouTube in 2023. I honestly have a hard time believing that this show is a year old now. The legacy it has left behind in the past 365 days is wild and, for an indie project, the fact they were able to produce 3 whole episodes in a year-long timespan is CRAZY. Animation takes a ton of time, and I'm so proud of what Gooseworx, Glitch, and everybody else who works on the show were able to do in such a relatively short amount of time and the records this show was able to break in the mean time (350 MILLION views is INSANE!!)

I can't wait to see what the future holds for this wonderful project <3

(Click/tap for better quality Tumblr really crunched it down)

[auriidae]

goofy hermit doodles!! because uhh why not!!

[hiyori-ii]

This is All Your Fault!

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 2,172

Tags: fem!reader, intercrural sex, dry humping, semi-public sex, being stuck in a small space together, gojo and reader are in their early-ish 20s, gojo himself really deserves a disclaimer lol

a03 link

Author's Note: By popular demand (180+ votes) I give you Gojo in all his glory <33 Sanji is next, I promise. :P

This is so not happening right now. 

Satoru laughs quietly to himself, watching as your face pinches in barely concealed rage. 

"Shut up, Satoru, this isn't funny."

"Oh, I beg to differ princess - this is hilarious."

You huff sharply and make sure to elbow him as you twist back around to listen for any movement on the other side of what must be the world's tiniest closet.

Like always, Satoru has gotten himself into trouble. And like always, he has somehow managed to wrap you up into it too. 

You hear footsteps round the corner and oh, that's Principle Yaga, no wonder he pulled you in here so suddenly. 

"What did you do this time you idiot?"

You hear him gasp behind you, "You wound me, princess! Why would you assume I've done something wrong?.”

You take a moment to collect yourself before looking back at him over your shoulder, "Oh I don't know, maybe because all you do is get into trouble?"

He can't keep the betrayed look on his face, pearly white teeth splitting his handsome face as he grins down at you. 

"I may have borrowed some important documents from Yaga's office."

Your eyes flutter closed and your shoulders sag as you begin to piece the situation together, "For christ's sake, Satoru, what is wrong with you?"

He reaches one hand down from where his palms are pressed against the door and pinches your side, making you jump back against his chest, "Don't be like that, I'm gonna give them back. Just need to buy some time before I return them is all."

You're about to open your mouth to give him a piece of your mind when the floorboards creak just outside your hiding spot.

'I should just open the door and let Yaga-sensei at him', you think to yourself. But before you can even lift a hand, Satoru has grabbed you by the wrist, his other hand coming across your mouth to make sure you don't rat him out. 

His breath tickles the back of your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, "Come on, Y/N. Don't give me up now."

A chill races down your spine and you shiver against his body, blushing at the way he looms over you. 

"I promise I won't keep getting you involved if you just stay quiet for me this one time."

For fuck's sake. 

Satoru knows he's won when the tension in your body settles. His hand falls away from your mouth and comes to wrap around your waist, keeping you snug against him. 

Your heart flutters in your chest when you hear a second set of footsteps approach, Yaga calling out to greet them.

Great, more company, exactly what you two need right now. 

You're trying to pay attention to what they're discussing but Satoru has taken to squeezing your waist and it's starting to get distracting.

"Oi, Satoru, stop that, I can't concentrate with you treating me like a stress ball."

His squeezing stops and there's half a moment of silence before you hear him laugh to himself, "Sorry, princess - didn’t know you were ticklish.”

“I am not ticklish, thank you very much. I just don’t like being squeezed and prodded at while I’m trying to keep you out of trouble!”

Despite your instance, his hands slide up your waist and give an experimental squeeze that sends you careening forward, hips pushing back into him to get away from the sensation. 

“Ah! S-Satoru quit it! I’m serious!” Your breathing stutters and you twist side to side in his grip to escape the torture. 

His quiet laughter has stilled and his grip loosens on your sides allowing you to catch your breath long enough to spit back at him, “What the hell is wrong with you?! First you nearly gag me to keep quiet and now you’re threatening to tickle me! Pick one or the other, do you or do you not want to be caught?!”

A few seconds pass and he doesn’t respond. You can feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration. You straighten up and look over your shoulder, ready to rip him a new one but what you see steals the words right from you. 

Satoru has gone shock-still, pretty eyes wide and face a beautiful red. 

Your anger fizzles away and you soften your tone, “Hey, are you okay?”

He blinks and glances down to meet your eyes, “H-huh?”

“I said are you okay? You look like you’re gonna explode.”

Somehow, the blush on his face darkens, slipping below his collar, “Yeah, y-yeah, I’m completely fine. Sorry, I’ll behave myself.”

Well that doesn't sound like the Satoru you know, “You? Behave yourself? Nice try. Seriously, what’s the matter?”

The person talking with Yaga suddenly leans against the closet door, rattling it in its frame. The noise startles you and you to jerk back against Satoru’s chest, your hand reaching back to stabilize yourself.

As you open your mouth to apologize for bumping into him, Satoru lets out an almost inaudible noise.

You must be hearing things. There’s absolutely no way he just moaned. 

The hand you threw back to balance yourself with flexes, digging into the meat of his hip and he jerks forward, “A-agh!”

Oh.

Oh he’s hard. 

“S-satoru, are you serious right now?!” You can barely breathe with the feel of his cock pressed against you.

He drops his forehead to your shoulder, laboured breath ghosting over your exposed collar, “I’m sorry - you just, you’re so close and it’s my fault for making you squirm but you just feel so good.”

You think you must be on fire. Your skin feels like it’s burning from where his lips sit just above your shoulder, sweat beginning to form as your body temperature sky-rockets at his confession. 

You and Satoru have always been close, but never this close. 

“I-it’s fine, just keep still and we’ll be out of here soon. It sounds like they’re almost done talking,” your grip on his hip begins to slip and more of your body weight shifts back into him. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N, you gotta stop moving!” 

“I’m sorry! My grip is slipping!”

“Shit, okay, hangon, I’m gonna adjust us, okay?”

You feel his hands tighten around your waist and you barely contain a whimper as he easily lifts your weight off him, allowing you to stand up straight again. 

But as if the gods themselves were laughing down at you, you hear Yaga and his company shift their conversation to something more personal, his mission to track down Satoru clearly on hold. 

You want to scream. 

You need to get out of here now so you can clear your head and approach this rationally. 

Behind you, Satoru is suspiciously quiet. You can’t blame him though, the entire situation has you feeling like you’re going insane.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I’m not upset, just so you know.”

You aren’t leaning against him anymore but your back is still lightly pressed to his chest and you can feel the inhale he takes, “Hah, well, thanks princess.”

A rush of heat settles between your legs at the nickname. Oh that’s not good. 

You slump forward letting your hands catch your weight on your knees, the situation finally starting to take it’s toll on you. You glance over your shoulder to sneak a peak, hoping that Satoru will ground you, but what you see instead lights an inferno inside of you. 

Satoru’s head has fallen back against the shelf behind him, his face still flushed with heat, brilliant eyes squeezed shut as he attempts to calm himself down. 

You can’t help but stare. You’ve always known Satoru was beautiful, you’d be crazy to not see it. But it’s never been more than that - just a simple fact of life. Now though, now it’s impossible to ignore. Now that you’ve felt the swell of his cock pressed tight against your ass, now that you know what he sounds like - looks like - when he feels the pull of arousal. 

Ever so subtly, you push your hips back against his and grind against the zipper of his tight jeans. 

As if struck by lightening, Satoru’s head snaps down to stare at you in shock, “W-agh-what are you doing, Y/N?!”

What are you doing? 

You don’t bother answering him before you roll your hips again.

He feels so good like this. You need more. 

You straighten up and lean back against him, feeling blindly for his right hand. When you find it, you can feel him trembling ever so slightly in your grip, “Is this okay?”

He nods before realizing you can’t see him, “Yeah, this is okay”

You respond by guiding his hand between your legs, letting him feel the wetness that has accumulated already. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

Your face lights up in embarrassment, “Shut up! It’s your fault!”

Satoru can’t help but grin at that, the fog of arousal lifting long enough for him to catalogue that he'll be using that against you later. 

Before he can say something stupid, you guide his fingers under the hem of your skirt and through the leg of your underwear so he can touch you directly.

The sharp inhale behind you lets you know that you’ve effectively shut him up for now and you take the opportunity to grind your clit against the pad of his two fingers.

It takes him a second to get the idea, but then he starts to draw tight circles against you, pulling a pleased whine from your throat.

“S-satoru, let me hel- let me help you too,” you hiccup, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes. 

You can feel the moan he lets out rumble in his chest. 

Without answering he pulls his eager hips back just enough to let him wrestle his belt buckle open, almost tearing the zipper in his haste to free his cock.

He’s mumbling something to himself when you feel the head of his cock bump against the back of your thigh, “-retty, so pretty.”

You’re starting to get impatient, your cunt throbbing without his hand there to ease the pressure, “Hurry up, need you”

“Shit okay, sorry.”

You can feel him lift your skirt up over your ass and shiver at the implication.

Satoru pats the side of your hip, his voice strained, “Stand with your feet together for me, okay?”

You wordlessly nod and pull your feet together, keeping your back tight against his chest. As your thighs come together, the pressure on your pussy increases and you squirm at the feeling. Behind you, Satoru had reached down to guide his cock between your thighs, wedging himself tight against your throbbing cunt. The slick leaking from you starts to coat his cock and with a gentle thrust he slides forward until his hips tap your ass. 

“Ha-ah, fuck, feels so good, princess. Can’t help myself, you're just so pretty.”

His voice has started to pitch in desperation and you can feel yourself getting lost in the feeling too. 

“Come on Satoru, show me how much you like this.”

He thinks you might just kill him. 

Without hesitating, he pulls his hips back just far enough so that only the head of his cock is still tucked between your slippery thighs. He gives one shallow thrust before pushing all the way forward, catching the hood of your clit on the way back. 

You groan as he starts to pick up the pace and you let your head loll back against his shoulder so you can watch his face as he fucks your thighs. 

His gaze is glued to the spot between your legs where the tip of his cock peeks out with each thrust, mesmerized by the fact that this is even real.

Your voice suddenly cuts through his daze, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Satoru don’t stop!”

Yeah, yes. He can do that. 

He reaches up and catches your chin in his hold, tilting your face towards his, watching for any sign of rejection before leaning down to kiss you. 

It’s suddenly all too much and your mouth falls open as your orgasm rips through you.

Your pretty moans are what finally set Satoru off and he can’t hold back anymore. He curls over you, forcing you to fold forward as he cums all over the door in front of you, some spilling onto your bare legs. 

A few seconds pass as you both catch your breath before you simultaniously break out into laughter. 

“We need to talk about this when we get out of here,” you start.

“You’re right,” he nods solemnly, “we really need to talk about how wet I make you.”

Your elbow connects with his ribs sharply and he barks out another laugh. 

Before you can give him a piece of your mind you hear two short knocks on the closet door, his laughter falling silent immediately. 

“Y/N, Satoru, I believe we need to have a word.”

Oh shit.

[radioactive-dazey]

I love you sanders sides artists i love you sanders sides fic writers i love you sanders sides fans i love you sanders sides

[anonymocha]

Bluepoch gave us the gift of barely-subtext tragic sapphic-centric media do NOT throw that away.

Context regarding PJSK and Undertale under cut.

Project Sekai cast is dominated by female characters but mlm is more popular, meanwhile Undertale has canon wlw rep and oh my god they’re at the bottom. I have nothing against these fandoms or media (I’m literally currently/was in them) but yeah. I just HOPE r99 doesn’t end up in a similar state.

[fearandhatred]

all of us here who actually use the reblog button are having infinitely more fun than the rest of u btw

[canecone]

Hello creatures of the night 😍😍 I have come back to fix the planetlord design

I need to stop pushing myself so far to the point the quality is the worst when I get long periods of inspiration 😔

[niyanoireee]

haii baii

[smilingmxsk]

Ind. Sel. Priv. Fandomless Horror OC | RP/Ask Blog for Margaret Anne Williams

OC/AU/Canon Friendly | Fluctuating Activity

10+ Years RP Experience

Loved by HikariDana

WARNING!!! DARK THEMES IMMINENT!!!

______________________________________________________________

Carrd | Rules | About | Verses | Margaret RP Scenario Prompts

[unforth]

Ngl as a small business owner who puts out something extremely pirate-able and who has never earned enough to make a pay check, this...

...is extremely upsetting.

Do y'all realize that most small business are maybe a handful of people? Do y'all realize that company's like LLCs exist to protect owners from legal and financial repercussions if the company falls apart? I'm not a company because I have stockholders, I'm a company so that if the business goes bankrupt the banks can't seize my fucking house. It's not evil to use existing legal structures to protect my family's assets. It's not unreasonable to ask people not to steal from businesses like mine.

It's like on Tumblr when it's One Artist or One Author Doing The Thing Themself you guys are all about it but the minute anyone tries to collectivize to do better we go from One Person Against The World to The Embodiment of Capitistic Evil with no in between, which is especially insane coming from the website that claims to think individualism has turned toxic and we should do more with community organization. The minute lots of people are involved in a business, there HAS to be legal structures like contracts and shit to protect the people involved. The Lone Creator Forging a Path is great for that one person. What about everyone else?

And so... some of us try to make a company to lift up a group.

And then I see shit takes like this.

Maybe. Maybe DONT fucking pirate from literally anyone just cause they've got the word "company" I'm the name?

Maybe remember that for small businesses, yes even when they're a company, there's a single person, or a family, or a group of friends, who are working their asses off to build something, and actually? Stealing from them makes you a FUCKING DICK.

Like. You realize we're just people right? Other regular people trying to survive the dystopian hellscape that is the now?

Maybe stop acting like you're automatically entitled to the labor and creations of others solely because you've decided that there is an entire huge category of people it's okay to steal from.

Like honestly. What the fuck.

[comickergirl]

Superfam sticker sheets! (This time with the CORRECT mock-up images. XD) Available for pre-order NOW on my storenvy site; these are print-to-order so I STRONGLY RECOMMEND getting an order in before 3/2/24 if you want 'em, as there are no plans for reprints at this time!