Ugh. Thinking Again About Elspeth & Wee Morag & How Crowley Probably Decided To Help Elspeth At Least

Guys, I got sick :(

I sickie boi 🤒 Prolly not gonna post for a few days, and if I repost there might not be any words (despite how bad I want to put them there) also my cat is yelling at me so I can’t type as much as I wanted to

Alr bye

One of Simon's best angles

STOP IT’S SO CUTE

Silly Halloween comic 🎃 (pretend I posted this on time)

Season 1 in a nutshell.

The animation is so smooth 🥺

REJECT RENDERING RETURN TO ANIMATION RAAAAAAGH

some stills from the thing ^_^

Ghost: I cut my finger Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better Ghost: That works? Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little *later* Ghost: I need you to punch me in the mouth Roach: Fucking finally

the angel and demon on the shoulder symbolism oh im sick

blame the angel. those were very clear instructions, after all.

This was at the bottom of a very well-written (smut 👀) AziraCrow fanfic (I would link it but I have no idea how and I forgot the name :( ) and I thought it was really funny

It was one where they were both on the run after Azi had become the archangel of Heaven and kidnapped and adopted Jesus?? Idk but it was GERY CERY VERY good and Crowley froze time and they banged :3

Good evening, I can't stop thinking about Simon going brain dead as he fucks you :)

Like, just imagine. You're on your elbows and knees as Simon's hitting it from behind, when suddenly you feel something wet land on your back. You know it's not him finishing given the fact that he's still buried deep inside you, so you look back over your shoulder to see what the hell that was you just felt.

And when you turn around, the sight that greets you is one for the ages. There's Simon, eyes unfocused and glazed over, mouth hanging wide open in the most fucked-out expression you've ever witnessed. He looks like he's never had an intelligent thought in his life; like he's been reverted back to a primitive brain, whose only drives are to eat, breathe, and fuck.

As you watch him rut into you like a sex-crazed animal, it's then you spy the source of the mystery liquid dripping onto your back. There, dribbling steadily from Simon's ajar mouth, flows a thick stream of drool. It leads down from his bottom lip in long, viscous ribbons, landing and settling itself along the curve of your spine. If he even notices (which, by the look on his face, he's too far gone for such higher-order thinking processes) then he doesn't care. He just lets his spit pour freely from his open mouth, like some kind wild beast that's got its eyes locked onto its next meal.

Simon is so mentally checked out that he can't even hear you as you gently say his name. No, all he can think about – all his shriveled little monkey brain can focus on at this moment – is how fucking good you feel around him and how fucking badly he needs to fill you up.

When Simon does finally cum, he can only manage a garbled string of grunts and groans that doesn't even come close to resembling human speech. After three, four, five thrusts as deep into you as possible, his whole body is shaking, and his trembling limbs give out.

He collapses on top of you without a second's consideration of his size, pinning you to the mattress beneath his warm, heavy frame. You can still feel him drooling a little as his face comes to rest in the crook of your neck, the mess on your lower back getting smeared between your bodies.

It's hard for you to breathe being trapped under Simon's weight like that, so you try lightly tapping him on the head to ask him to roll off you. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it's no use trying to gain his attention right now. You're going to have to give him a few minutes to collect himself, love.

The poor guy just fucked himself stupid, after all.