Okay, I suppose I’d better find out. People with penises who have orgasms, please advise: what, metaphorically, does a penis-based orgasm feel like?
I can’t imagine Crowley living in London and not going to the Columbia Road flower market on a Sunday morning seeing how much of a plant bitch he is.
__
Things flies like….
I’m sure I’ve seen that joke somewhere but I can’t remember where
⭐️ Commission Info ⭐️ Ko-Fi ⭐️
Peoples of the universe, please attend carefully. The message that follows is vital to the future of you all. The choice for you all is simple; a continued existence under my guidance, or total annihilation.
BITCH DOTS FOR COWARDS AN LOSERS
oh my god! (i woke up with a snake tattoo)
oh my god! (and i think that my tongue’s pierced, too)
oh my god, oh my god: it’s the sunday morning after,
and baby, who the hell are you?
“Dear Lord—”
“Hell’s bells—”
A pause of mutually aghast assessment.
“Well, would you look at that.”
“Oh, that’s weird. That’s really weird. Your face—”
“What about it?”
“It’s… it’s my face. But doing the things your face, uh… does.”
“Seeing you distort my features beyond recognition isn’t particularly pleasant for me, either.”
“Aw, poor angel. Is he an ickle bit put out?”
“Oh! That’s extremely disconcerting. Please don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t… please don’t use that tone while you’re in my body. Or make that face.”
“Wha— how else would I talk?”
“I’m not sure, but certainly you could be a bit more cultured… is my head supposed to hurt this much? My left eyebrow is absolutely cramping—”
Morning reblog!
as if i’ve never said the words, i want - i want you first
only thing that can quench my thirst: i want you first, i want you first
“Please, angel. Please.”
He was kneeling, sunglasses off, hands open: he was on his knees in front of Aziraphale, who was wringing his hands together, seated at his desk, completely uncertain.
“I’m not at all sure it’s a good idea—”
“We’ve done it before.”
“By accident. And it left its mark on you.”
Hell, yes, it had: his ears had rung for a week, he’d seen spots and flashes before his eyes for longer still, he’d felt sunburnt right through to the heart of him, and it really didn’t matter at all, because:
“It was fucking incredible.”
Aziraphale puffed an exasperated breath and stood up, nearly knocking Crowley sprawling; he moved as if preoccupied, not entirely aware that he had a body or that Crowley did. That was a good sign. Perhaps his attention was Elsewhere. Crowley could work with that.
He nudged: “And you liked it too.”
Aziraphale turned to him, face anguished: “That doesn’t mean we should do it again!”
Morning reblog!
ace-attorney-dms
