#do yourself a favour and read this

[edenalix]

I've been reading The Cadence of part-time poets by @motswolo and was really inspired by the overall vibe

[rhinocio]

you are my sunshine

new favourite rise character is @aversiteespabilas' Usagi Yuki

[foolishlovers]

MUTUAL PINING FIC RECS: Below you'll find a list of Good Omens fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley are pining for each other.

You can request more fic recs here.

you play with my feelings (right from the start) by PenroseSun (G, 3k)

There were three things of which Crowley was absolutely certain: 1. Aziraphale, being an angel, was required to be kind and loving towards all things, even when those things were flawed or sinful or fallen. 2. Notwithstanding that obligatory kindness, Aziraphale would never, and could never truly love a demon, in any meaningful sense. 3. Despite this, Crowley was desperately, hopelessly, in love with him.

For To Quench My Thirst by apliddell (G, 6k)

After moving to Sussex with Aziraphale, Crowley is trying so hard to be satisfied with friendship and the suddenly beautiful life he already has.

Slow by write_away (T, 9k)

It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it. It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart.   Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

got a pretty face, pretty boyfriend too by KissMyAsthma, leukozyna (T, 9k)

Aziraphale and Crowley are next-door neighbours. They’ve been attracted to each other since they met. The only thing keeping them apart is a thin wall between their bedrooms and Atticus and Freddie, Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s respective life partners… or are they? A human AU glued together by misunderstandings and wet food.

speed limits (and how to break them) by darcylindbergh (E, 13k)

There is a trick people do with a mint candy and a bottle of cola which results in a small eruption, and something very like it, for much higher stakes than a laugh in a car park, is about to take place in Aziraphale’s back room. Or: what happens when you finally unscrew the cap on a six thousand years of repression, and drop in Valentine’s Day.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture (M, 17k)

"Yes, exactly. Retire." Aziraphale reaches for the last remaining tartlet brimming with summer berries. "Somewhere along the south coast, perhaps." Or: Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E, 32k)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 50k)

Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (M, 53k)

Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy. Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is, with his minimum-wage job and a half-baked dream of trading rare books for a living. And as if adopting a recently bereaved pre-teen isn’t enough, there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him. A human AU/kid fic.

Style and Substance by Cabernet_Woebegone (E, 89k)

“But y’know, if my boss finds out I’m helping you even a little, they’re gonna throw me out on my ass.” “Yes, I understand it is a bit of a conflict of interest for you… Is there something I can offer you in return? Something you would like?” Aziraphale questioned hopefully. You, Crowley thought loudly as he took a second sip. I want to know if you moan when you kiss the same way you do when you try something delicious. I want to know if your lips taste like Zinfandel. “Yes, actually.” Aziraphale is having difficulty running his restaurant, and it isn't helping that he believes the place across the street is trying to sabotage him. To his surprise, chef Crowley comes to him on friendly terms. Together they come up with an arrangement that could benefit them both.

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (E, 133k)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles. Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning. Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5. Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water. Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Old Vines by sevdrag (E, 189k)

A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

lazy power bottom raphael & anal fingering/handjobs

Read on AO3

-

Her entrance into his office was unceremonious. The devil sat squinting at old scrolls, looking up at her through his pretty lashes when she stood in front of his desk.

“I don't recall requesting to see you,” he said, his tone neutral. Tav was about to take a monumental risk, but she was still riding the high of her recent piece of freedom. Her magic was slowly returning - helped along by the fragments of his power Raphael was sharing - and it felt a little like the soft afterglow of an orgasm. A good orgasm. Constant. Tav hadn't felt alive like this in a very long time. She kept flexing her fingers and toes; he noticed, but didn't comment. 

“I want to talk to you,” she said simply. 

He was quiet for a minute. Digesting her behavior, and how he was going to manage it. Otherwise his expression was impossible to read. “Then talk.”

It was here, Tav knew, that she had to tread carefully. If she got this right, Raphael would be in her hands - as much as a devil like him ever could be - and she would be the closest to real freedom she'd been…likely since before her cursed magic ever even began to manifest. A depressing thought, but one she didn't linger on. 

“I'd like you to stop having sex with Haarlep,” she said. Instantly she could tell it hadn't been what he was expecting her to say. The surprise on his handsome face would've been comical if she wasn't balancing the certainty of her future on the outcome of this conversation. He wasn't surprised for long. He put down the scroll he was reading, planted his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together, where he rested his chin. He looked at her very much like a boarding school headmaster, both entertained and irritated by an unruly child's audacious behavior. Like it amused him to watch someone so beneath him attempt to display authority, but when the novelty wore off he'd get angry.

“Why should I do that?” He drawled. He was humouring her, Tav knew, because he was curious. Just as she'd hoped. “What makes you think you can tell me to do anything?”

“I can't,” Tav shrugged, “I know I can't. But if you want to keep having sex with me, Haarlep has to be out of the picture - or out of your bed, at least.”

“You're giving me an ultimatum? How cute,” Raphael cooed. That he hadn't incinerated her on the spot was an indication of his piqued interest. “I knew you held distaste for my incubus, but I had no idea it ran so deep.”

“This has nothing to do with me not liking Haarlep,” Tav countered. That was mostly the truth. She absently touched the ugly scarring on her naked throat. She'd wear that collar forever, it seemed, one way or another. Raphael's clever gaze followed her. “I don't share my sexual partners, that's all. Not by choice, anyway, and choice is something you said you'd let me have, at least when it comes to this. Unless you're going back on your word…”

“I am not,” the devil growled; his tone suggested he might like to. “Though you'd do well to make sure you don't mistake my clemency for complacency, songbird. Unless you'd like to find out what happens to people who do.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“I'm sure.” Raphael narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down from her bare feet to the crown of her head. Tav did her best not to shift, to remain confident against his scrutiny. His next words were blunt. “Why should I choose you over an incubus I've kept for centuries? A creature perfectly attuned to my body, my desires? One who cannot and will not say no to anything I want to do to them?”

At last it was the moment for Tav to make her case. To admit a truth aloud to herself and to the devil who stole her away from a personal hell far worse than Avernus, or any other layer of Hell.

“Because I want you, Raphael. I want you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night in your chambers, the way you looked underneath me as everything else burned…it's driving me crazy. I know it was good for you, too. I can't give you the same precision and experience as Haarlep, but…maybe I can give you something better.”

Raphael's eyes darkened as she spoke, his pupils expanding to swallow the orange of his irises. His countenance changed, even if his placid expression hadn't. It was a subtle shift, but one Tav had become attuned to as she learned him, his mannerisms and habits.

“I must admit, the smell of fire has held quite a…scintillating sentiment for me these past few days,” he said. “Ah, what a delightful impulse buy you've turned out to be…”

Tav felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. There was the caveat. A bitter reminder that she was still infernal property, no matter how well he treated her. She couldn't believe it. In the heat of passion, she'd almost allowed herself to forget. This wasn't about sex, or lust. It was Hell's oldest game: manipulation. If she had fun in the meantime, all the better, but she wouldn't again forget why she was doing this. Her flames were not doused, but tempered.

“So, are my terms acceptable?” Tav pressed. Crossed her arms over her chest. Leaned her weight on one hip.

“That depends, dearest.” The devil did so love negotiations. “If I were to relinquish my, shall we say, dalliances with Haarlep and share myself only with you…my little songbird, my sweet pet…” Tav's breath caught. Those words affected her more than she thought. Raphael smiled. “What would that mean?”

Hook. Line. Time for the sinker.

“Let me show you,” she murmured. “Right here, right now. If you're good for it.”

The devil was deeply entertained, that much was obvious. He clicked his fingers and Tav heard his office doors close and lock. “Hmm… What will you have me do now, pet?”

“Bend over the desk. Clothes off. Please.”

For a moment, he did nothing. His silent stare had weight. Tav wondered if this was the point of no return, if she'd found the line and crossed it. If he was testing her mettle, her conviction, to see if she would falter. If he was simply stunned that she believed she could speak to him that way, that she believed he would actually obey. 

Just when Tav thought he wouldn't, when the moment had stretched beyond uncomfortable and she'd almost given into the urge to squirm, Raphael did what she asked. The thrill Tav experienced was substantial. He stood. A simple click and he cleared the surface of his desk; another and he was naked, thick muscles, prominent veins and ribbed cherry-red skin on show, lightly dusted with patches of dark hair. He was softer around the middle than Haarlep's display, and Tav much preferred it. Raphael’s handsome cock was already beginning to fill, his dark pink glans peeking out from beneath his foreskin. He could play at aloofness all he wanted, but his body would always give him away. Still, he was a devil of pride, and there was nothing but smug superiority in the way he positioned himself; forearms braced on the desk, back bent, ass up. His tail swung lazily to-and-fro. He reminded her of his incubus like this, but - and she'd never tell him this - Tav thought he pulled off the seduction much better.

“Well, my songbird,” he purred, equal parts an invitation and a challenge. “Here I am. Show me how you want me.”

As she approached, Tav wished she could hate him the way she hated all other fiends and devils alike. He made it impossible, and that was infuriating, because it complicated so many things. She wished he repulsed her as Lyuris had, but she found Raphael's hellish features quite beautiful. She'd been certain there was nothing beautiful in Hell, but as she smoothed her hands over Raphael's hot skin and he made a quiet noise of approval…

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Remember why you're doing this.

He was so much larger than her, but like this, she could reach the parts of him she wanted much easier. Her touch drifted over his broad shoulders and down the column of his spine. At its base her fingertips flirted briefly with where his tail sprouted; the skin was baby soft on its underside and Raphael seemed to like being touched there, if the gentle “ah!” he released meant anything. He seemed to like being touched everywhere. Things between he and Haarlep were transactions, Tav had realised, but the devil’s appetite wasn't just for sex. He hungered for touch, warm and given willingly. Affection of the basest kind, as so many devils secretly and selfishly did. Something a demon would never understand. That was how she'd get him.

Tav squeezed his backside in both hands. He had a nice ass. She felt down lower to find his balls, smiling at the way he instantly spread his thighs to allow her access. His sack was hot and heavy in her palm, too big to properly hold. She kneaded what she could instead, firm testes inside rolling against his scrotum's thin, smooth skin. She tugged them gently. Raphael groaned, deep and throaty. Tav's deft fingers slid between his buttocks, parting them enough to feel the twitching velvet of his hairless puckered hole. He inhaled sharply when she rested her thumb on it but made no move to stop her. In fact, he lifted his tail and presented himself further.

“Oil?” She asked. Raphael clicked his fingers once more and a little bottle appeared on his desk. Stroking his hole, savouring his anticipatory twitches, Tav used her free hand to pop the lid from the bottle and scent its contents. “Mm, palmarosa. Smells good.”

“They do know how to make fine things in Waterdeep,” said the devil, distractedly. “If you're willing to shell out substantial gold, of course…ahhh…” 

“Of course.” As he spoke, Tav poured a generous helping of the oil on her fingers, and slowly pushed her slick thumb past the tight ring of his anus. The heat and squeeze of his slippery insides was amazing.

“Is that it? More,” Raphael snarled, impatiently pressing into her hand. “What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing at all.”

Her index finger, then her middle, joined her thumb. Experience told her how to twist them, where to rub, when to scissor. Experimentation would tell her where his prostate was, but until then he was enjoying himself anyway. His head dropped forward, clipped moans escaping him as he tried to fuck himself on her fingers, tried to get more friction, more more more.

“Another,” he demanded raspily, “give me another. Harder.”

“As you wish…master.” She said it purely for the shudder that ran through him, for the way he clenched around her fingers, but Tav would be lying if she said it didn't affect her, too. If she looked down, she could see his clawed toes curling. Her ring finger slipped into his ass, her pinky thumping his perineum with each harsh thrust and rub she gave him. The wet noises and her devil's grunts were obscene.

“Yes…nngh, good pet…such a good pet,” Raphael uttered, unable to stop talking even with four fingers up his ass. “So eager to please me…that's it, yes. Like that…”

With her free hand, Tav reached around to grab his cock, fully erect and leaking precum. To do it, she had to press herself flush against him, the backs of his thighs scorching the fronts of hers through the thin dress she wore. She couldn't resist dropping open-mouthed kisses on his flesh. He tasted of sweat and spice, and the strange ridges of his infernal anatomy felt like soft cartilage in her mouth. He sighed so sweetly when she sucked on them. Her fingers on his cock squeezed and stroked, her intent to reach his glans and smear his precum around for lubricant, but Raphael snatched that hand and brought it to his face. His forked tongue - that dangerous thing of pure silver -  licked up the length of her palm and lathered her digits with hot spit, and when he deemed them sufficiently sloppy, he put them right back on his aching prick.

“Fuck,” Tav cursed breathlessly, resting her cheek between his wing joints for a moment. Heart in her throat, blood roaring in her ears, cunt slick. 

Remember. 

The devil chuckled, but it quickly dissolved into a low, rumbling moan when she made a narrow cage of her hand for him to fuck, to rut and rub his prick into like an animal; and that was exactly what he did, rolling his hips to alternate between pleasuring his cock and spearing himself on her fingers in his ass. Tav felt every flex of his spine, felt every drag of his foreskin and swollen vein and ridge on his cock, felt every clench and spasm of his rectum. Felt it when she found the spot she'd been looking for, soft and spongy beneath her fingertips. The sound Raphael let out as his big body jerked bordered on inhuman; his claws scratched at the wood of his desk, his wings flexed, his tail thrashed.

“There,” he hissed, “right there.”

Tav kissed and bit him as she ruthlessly worked his prostate. He barely noticed, his rutting becoming feverish, snarls and growls mixing with wet gasps, fast and shallow. His cock stiffening further, balls tight, Tav knew he was about to come. She awaited it with vicious satisfaction, wishing only that she could see his face as he unraveled, if his sharp features would twist as lovely as they did the night she rode him in flames. 

He finished with a shudder, a guttural choked groan, his head lolled back, wings spread wide. His inner muscles fruitlessly milked her fingers, his fat cock spurting ropes of hot cum all over her knuckles, his chest, the desk. His claws had dug deep gouges in the wood. In the aftermath he quivered, panting. Tav felt as though she couldn't catch her breath, either. Her forehead rested once again between his wing joints where she stayed, still holding his softening cock. It took effort not to sigh with him as she pulled out, giving his hole - bereft, wet, winking - one final gentle rub. Her wrist ached, her cunt ached, her heart ached (but only a little). 

[shizunitis]

you don’t understand. you don’t UNDERSTAND how much i adore this fic. how it’s got its claws in me. how i shake scream cry when the email notification pops up

the premise, the dialogue, the tension, the characterisation, the relationship dynamics, the humour, the angst, the luo bingge, the plot, the Horniness, the—

chef’s kiss. there will never be another for me

[fiendishpal]

I'm rereading 'stay with me, go places' again and, to no one's surprise, I am crying in the shower

[on-this-day-mcr]

On this day, June 2

In 2022: My Chemical Romance performed their twelfth show of the 2022-2023 Swarm tour in Rotterdam, Netherlands. This show was the only one of the tour to feature a short video of the band making pancakes, played immediately before "The Foundations of Decay". At this show, "HAPPY HALLOWEEN" was written on the drums. (🖤)

Watch the show here!

ᴘᴀᴜʟ ʙᴀʀᴇɴᴅʀᴇɢᴛ

[tjarry]

feeling faint, hi georgie

[lofan]

Happy Berlermo day everyone!

I present you a little something for the best fic I have ever laid my eyes on:

The Time Traveler’s Soulmate by @oreo-cookies-fan is wholly responsible for this. This gem of a fic left me speechless and in tears and forced me to do something. That's my only excuse.

[isablooo]

Vampire AU Morgan (+ a lil Domi cameo) from my favourite webtoon Dom & Mor by my awesome friend @dyemelikeasunset! Morgan's not normally a vampire but Naf's recent vamp AU has been feeding me so good!!! You absolutely have to check this comic out if you haven't already 🖤❤️

[violetthekiller]

just double checking it was never z that said that she wouldn’t attend a show for just tom…

big brains working overtime

i didn’t want to say it but it’s what i’ve been thinking

[imaginaryprotagonist]

It's my birthday and all I want is Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles doing a live reading of according to all known laws of life by sobsicles. Is that too much to ask?

[moreaugriffins]

Something something- Even though Ryan seems comfortable in himself (and likely his sexuality) he still sticks to the status quo in the first movie, saying things aren't right when others start to express their various interests, even though in the second movie he's shown to be interested in yoga and baseball (which a theatre kid 'shouldnt' like), meaning he to some extent was repressing himself, and over HSM2 he's learning to be more openly himself around others- something something

[someonetheelusivefangirl]

Wrightworth/Narumitsu Fic Rec!

Want some classic dancing around "unnecessary feelings"?

Enjoy matchmaking, meddling team ups of Franziska, Maya, Trucy and Pearls??

Like reading about awkward flirting, almost-hand holding, dancing, not-so platonic dates and bed sharing???

Have you not yet experienced Pineapple-Nick????

Then do yourself a favour and read 'How to Court A Fool in Under Three Months' by snowyrunes!

[crimson-roots]

. shoutout to @slashmagpie's lifeline au, because . w. whahuwhgfds oh my god

i couldn't do the text justice, so please just . go read it, it's absolutely incredibly written <3

[renecdote]

“Done,” Joe declares, tying the string of cannon fuse Kite always carries for his hair around the end of the braid. He wonders sometimes why he never threatened to set him alight by it in those days when he was most angry, but maybe he did and just forgot. Kite tips his head backwards into Joe’s lap instead of turning to face him. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, and Joe wonders—the way he often catches himself wondering—how he ever could have lived a life not hearing I love you in every word Missouri Kite said to him. Post canon. Joe braids Kite’s hair and thinks about love.