#longhair tips | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The Tumblr office adopted Tommy, an 11-year-old Pomeranian.

stylebets02 · 2 years

Text

What does a black hair with caramel highlights mean?

To make your black hair with caramel highlights research simpler, we've done the schoolwork and tracked down the hottest shades. Read on for the black hair with caramel highlights ideas. For more information visit here https://bit.ly/3Nv2Klb

2 notes · View notes

felinefractious · 2 months

Text

🐱 British Longhair, British Shorthair

📸 Golden Bears Cattery

🎨 Black Golden Tipped, Blue Golden Tipped, Chocolate Golden Chinchilla

#photo #british #british longhair #british shorthair #BLH #BSH #black #blue #chocolate #golden #shaded #tipped #chinchilla #shell #ny 11 #ay 11 #by 12 #comparison #b: golden bears

96 notes · View notes

bodycareart · 2 years

Photo

Hair Tip 👱🏻‍♀️💡: Btw Slip = Slipperiness It's how easy your hands glide through your hair when you add the product. This is super important especially for conditioners and leave-in conditioners! Makes it a lot easier to detangle before adding styling products. #bodycareart #hairtip #hair #hairtips #healthyhair #haircare #naturalhair #naturalhairstyles #hairstyles #longhair #hairgrowth #haircaretips #naturalhairproducts #naturalhaircare #beauty #natural #curlyhair #tip #shorthair #hairproducts #hairstyle #hairtipsdaily #hairextensions #haircareroutine https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj_LKwzNc_9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

3 notes · View notes

hellenhighwater · 10 months

Note

Real question: how do you not immediately keep all the kittens you foster? Because I would simply die for Nobby. He is so itty-bitty. His head is so large. A certified member of the itty-bitty kitty committee. I understand that you CAN'T do that because you'd run out of space very quickly and they may not all get along, but it seems hard not to get super attached to them. Do you have any tips?

To start, I have a hard three-cat rule--I have no intention of permanently owning more than three cats. I have two right now; there's a vacancy but it's only one spot, so whoever that third cat is, they have to be really special.

The thing is that a healthy indoor cat can easily live 15-20 years, and I may own less than a dozen cats in the whole of my life. I don't think there's really any bad cats out there, but I want the cats I do keep to be ones I absolutely adore. So I'm going to be really, really picky.

For one, I'm trying to mostly foster shorthairs. I have a strong personal preference for longhairs, so I'm less inclined to keep a shorthair kitten. That's superficial, but I know myself. Third cat also has to get along with Mal and Vice, who are night and day in terms of personality, and that's not easy. And I have a rule that my first responsibility is to the pets that I already own, so if I think a kitten is going to be a negative impact on the Tiny Terror's quality of life, then...no kitten. If they'd handled the fosters badly I would probably have reconsidered, but they're adapting well.

And I'm going into this with the full intention of not keeping a cat. I would love to know for certain that each and every one will go to a loving home--again, if you're in MI and want one of these kittens, let me know--but I have to hope that that's what's going to happen when they leave my care.

Also kittens are a lot of work? Mal and Vice are a lot of work, and they've only just passed out of their teenage phase. I am not a person who just brings home a cat; it's a multi-year endeavor of training and communication and it's soooo much more effort to deal with a loose kitten than it is a well-mannered adult. Babies are fun but if I keep them then I have to provide them with an education.

But yes. Nobby is illegally tiny and if he makes it I really hope I get to know that he's found a really special home, because he deserves it.

386 notes · View notes

amber-tortoiseshell · 17 days

Note

hello! this might be a stupid question but if smoke makes the hair roots white then why do the hair tips also become white? like the black smoke pictures you've been using for the tournament.

All right, that's actually a very good question, and I'm not entirely sure I can fully answer it. (I've never had a longhaired smoke in my hand, so i can only speculate based on pictures.)

Cats have different kind of hairs: guard hairs, awn hairs, down hairs. In a smoke, the hairs making up the undercoat are much lighter than the rest, the standard black with white base 'upper' hairs. I don't know what kind of hairs the "mane" of a norwegian forest cat with its coat at the fullest consists, but i suspect it's different then those covering the back and the sides of the cat, and that's why the white is much more apparent there.

One of the smoke cats I used in the tournament, Danoe's Mr Mistoffelees at different fur length stages:

#ask and answer #smoke #inhibitor #fur types #black smoke

27 notes · View notes

fuckyouheresyourcoffee · 7 months

Note

*God -- or a brunette version thereof -- steps into the shop. If you've never seen the face of God in your dreams, she just looks like a weathered but handsome brunette in a black polka-dot dress.*

*Her gaze lands on the backpacker, the tea nerd, and the longhaired redhead weirdo. She gives them the Nod before she steps up to the counter *

She smiles sincerely but with effort and leans forward on the counter a little. Not like the other American, who seemed like he was asking you for some kind of secret favor, but like an old friend who's come into the shop to wait for you until you're off.*

Hi there, honey. How's it going?

*It's an American accent, flat like Iowa, creaky like an old barn door, husky like a blues player crying.*

Love the name of the shop. It's true, caffeine is life. I wouldn't be surprised if the perfect cup of coffee could wake the dead.

It's my first meal back here in a while. Just got off the plane, and I'm a little jet-lagged. What would you suggest?

*She tips you a wink that could either mean "Please sell me the most chocolatey pastry you have and as much caffeine as you are legally allowed, and do you have any cocaine btw, I'm fucking dying and trying so hard to keep it together" or "I'm ravingly horny and I think you're cute, do you want my hotel key and very expensive room service" depending on, well, what vibes you're capable of picking up. It could also easily be both.*

--@god-in-the-basement

I-hmrmhmmm.

*in an absolutely flustered tone* itsgoingfine

*whispers under her breath* okay nina collect yourself you messy gay bitch

We've got a triple chocolate brownie (it's the sweetest thing we can sell. any more sugar and its a cardiac arrest guaranteed.) and I can make you a French press coffee with a meagre 10 shots of expresso in it.

If you experience any heart palpitations don't pin the blame on me.

#please dont flirt with me i am a socially awkward gay and thats it #a pretty woman looks at me and i am immediately down on my knees #GOD nina you Lesbian!#nina says #nina rambles #good omens

56 notes · View notes

stylebets02 · 2 years

Text

How do you make hairstyles for a gown dress?

A hairstyle for gown dress wedding gown is more than a seasonal trend. We’ve all seen this neckline on bridesmaids, runway shows and wedding aisles for many decades. We won’t be the first to admit it’s been exciting to see it rise in popularity this wedding season. This dramatic and distinctive neckline might seem daunting to style at first, but when done right, it’s simply breathtaking. You’ll want to find a hairstyle for gown dress that accentuates the neckline and showcases the vibe of your dress and bridal look. For more information visit here https://bit.ly/3LVqbne

0 notes

felinefractious · 27 days

Text

🐱 British Longhair

📸 FelpatiGatti British Cattery

🎨 Fawn Golden Tipped

#photo #british #british longhair #BLH #fawn #golden #shaded #tipped #py 11 #b: felpati gatti

36 notes · View notes

tuttumi · 2 months

Text

a forbidden place to be

pairing: satosugu

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, yearning, consumption of alcohol, drunk gojo

summary: Satoru Gojo shouldn’t have drunk, nor should he have found himself gazing into purple eyes his soul knew too well. Yet he did.

wc: 2.2k a/n: fic posted on ao3 as well :)

A quiet night.

The streets illuminated by the yellow lights shone down on Satoru Gojo's white hair, melting into waves through the drunken haze that was leading his feet.

Every passing car made him flinch, their light too bright for his dark thoughts. He'd cursed himself for leaving his glasses on Shoko's couch.

It was on rare occasions that he drank.

The strongest had to keep his head clear of any unwanted thoughts that could overpower the reason he tried so hard to maintain. It brought a scoff to his lips as he kicked the leaves on the cobblestone.

The bitter taste of sake, followed by a few glasses of whiskey whose name he didn't even read, its dull brown color angry on his tongue yet just as sweet as he liked things to be.

He needed it tonight.

He didn’t know whether it was Nanami’s scowling face or Shoko’s head over his shoulder as she told him to be nicer to Ijichi.

Maybe it was Utahime’s yelling or simply the light chuckle in his ear that made him search the room in desperation. It brought him a few raised eyebrows, worried looks, and questions he had to laugh off.

Ah, that’s what it was.

The sound of his name being called affectionately and a smile that let him count the dark eyelashes with a violet orb warming the tips of his ears.

The very sound no one else could hear, one engraved in his brain like a devotion startling him from sleep more often than he would care to admit.

He shouldn’t have drunk.

Nor should he have left Shoko’s apartment despite her protests and a warning she would make it hurt if he got himself hurt.

And he most certainly shouldn’t have found himself leaning on a building whose location he denied knowing. Its outer walls hiding the main building wall where the windows stood, spiking disappointment in the white-haired sorcerer.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning so the coldness of the white wall could cool down the inferno of emotions in his brain, the infinity forgotten. He didn’t need to be the strongest now, he was safe. That was one thing he didn't question as he felt the familiar surge of cursed energy approach him.

“Did you come to end this, Satoru?”

There it was.

The same voice that brought his mind to a stop. It cut through the chilly air inviting his adoration.

He was sure the goosebumps on his skin weren’t from the air hugging him in comfort.

He shouldn’t be here.

Yet the growing frown on the longhaired man caused his lips to turn upwards, his dimples shadowing his cheeks in the dim light.

“Satoru?” Suguru tilted his head walking even closer.

Something about the worried tone of his voice ensnared Satoru’s whole body, tugging at his limbs. He followed as Suguru's eyes searched his body, his head close enough that the scent of his hair was making his thoughts dance.

Was it the alcohol that made his hand move a stray hair from Suguru’s bang back into its place? Or was it the pleasure he felt learning his one and only still cared this for him like nothing changed?

“I should’ve noticed.” his blue eyes closed as his head fell forward, heavy on his shoulders. A faint chuckle left his lips, as bitter as the sake he had.

Before Suguru could question his drunken rambling, the desperate rage in his blue eyes stopped him.

The storm of Satoru’s eyes wasn’t shooting its lightning at Suguru.

It targeted its own sea, causing waves to rest on the edges, threatening to show themselves to his best friend.

He truly shouldn’t be here.

Satoru turned his head rapidly, mumbling to himself with a frown.

His intoxicated body gave up on holding him as he slid down the wall sloppily, feeling the crannies under his palms.

He thought he’d imagined Suguru’s hands twitching towards him. It’s no more than his vision swirling in colors and shapes.

“What are you doing?”

Suguru’s voice was soothing and as patient as it always was, yet a small crack in it made his furrowed brows clear to his six eyes as he lifted his head to peek at him.

Satoru let out a laugh. As if nothing happened. As if they were back in Jujutsu high, still 17 and, well, the strongest… together.

“Suguru,” he slurred out, his teasing voice accompanied by a worry-free grin, “wanna hit the arcade again?”

“You really should never drink again.”

He could hear the disbelief in Suguru’s words as he crouched next to him.

The scent of his cursed energy was so known to his fingertips they itched to absorb it in their skin like before, to bathe in it until he drowned.

“It was your fault.” Satoru’s smile pieced together the crack in his voice. He felt desperate. Vulnerable.

The blur of his vision was making it hard to see but he couldn’t mistake the anger on Suguru’s face. He couldn’t miss the hurt.

Was he hurting like he was?

No, more than he was. He cut him off before he could even ask what he meant.

“I needed it tonight.” Satoru spat out. There was no more anger in those blue eyes of his. Only the calm void of the deep ocean that was left on its own for too long, remorse swimming in its waves as he watched the purple eyes startle upon meeting them.

He felt himself drifting off as they shut.

If he’d had more strength he would’ve laughed at Suguru’s faint scolding.

———————————————————————————

It felt as if he was lying on the clouds. Their soft touch on his cheek was surprisingly warm, holding him close, strong under his arms and legs, and moving so carefully as if he might fall off.

They tickled his face, making him scrunch his nose.

Then he felt it.

Suguru's cursed energy. His scent. The darkness of his hair under his cheek protecting him from the same streetlights he'd cursed on his stroll.

It made him giggle when he understood in his drunken haze.

“Couldn’t leave me alone?” He whispered in Suguru’s ear, feeling the shiver that ran down his body. A smirk stayed on his face at his reaction.

“I should’ve,” Suguru responded breathily provoking another laugh from the white-haired man, talking more to himself than to him.

Satoru was happier than he was in a while. He would let himself revel in this, it was what he needed.

But it was dangerous.

He wrapped his arms tighter around Suguru, nuzzling his face in Suguru’s hair. He didn’t want it to end.

Alas, someone could see him. Could use this distraction to complete the kill order since that was the only way they could ever hope to accomplish that.

He couldn’t let him get him home.

He wrestled off of Suguru, confusing the dark-haired man and earning nervous objections as he turned around.

And suddenly, their noses were touching and all reasonable thoughts left his mind.

They could afford to share at least a moment in this empty street.

They could be happy for just this instant.

It was enough. As long as they were finally close enough they could breathe each other's air.

His lips curled upwards, his heart pulling it into a grin as Suguru stared at him in wonder.

And with a chuckle, he returned a sheepish smile. His eyes closed, one eyebrow raised at the usual mischief.

All the ropes of restraint Satoru Gojo had wrapped around himself ripped to shreds at that very second, dissolved by the welcoming comfort he craved.

Maybe he was right to have drunk tonight.

He slowly pressed his lips on the corner of Suguru’s, the gleam in his eyes replaced by yearning. By a silent plea to grant him this much.

Suguru’s hand touched his cheek softly, the touch like a ritual he felt before they even came in contact with his skin.

That touch was enough for his hands to find themselves in the dark hair faster than his lips captured Suguru's, grasping desperately as if he’d vanish from his sight again.

He was sure the world was spinning from much more than alcohol this time. The cold of a brick wall hit his back, their hands moving faster than their feet.

As he finally pulled away for air, he recognized the staircase on the other side of the street, yet Suguru’s lips on his neck didn’t leave him room for thought. His fist tugged on the man’s hair, earning a moan his body couldn’t dismiss.

“Suguru,” he let out a deep breath. “Room, please.”

He didn’t need an answer. Suguru’s lips creating a burning path from his chest to his lips were enough for him to drag him with an unstable stride towards the staircase, earning a deep giggle.

He contemplated teleporting into his room but didn't trust his drunken brain not to send them someplace other than his bed.

The world churned in even brighter shapes and colors in his mind. As it dimmed to the darkness, he prayed nothing would change when he opened his eyes. Prayed he could still feel Suguru's hands around his waist, holding him tight.

He'd stay like that forever. Like before.

A gentle palm on the back of his head held his head as it hit Suguru’s shoulder before he lost the last shred of conscience he was grasping onto that night and let himself follow the darkness.

———————————————————————————

He was back in his arms.

Their limbs interlocked as they always were when they shared a bed.

Yet the cotton sheets were cold. So unusually cold.

Satoru startled awake, clutching his throbbing head. It’s thumping the only sound in the room as the world froze.

He was alone.

Ice wormed its way into his blood, his chest heavier than a boulder, so tight it might explode.

This wasn’t his room. The photo frames on the tiny beige nightstand held Shoko's smiling face in them.

Suguru wouldn’t have brought him here, it was much worse than waltzing to Satoru’s apartment in broad daylight.

Did he even leave Shoko’s apartment that night?

The last memory he had before Suguru’s purple eyes took their reign in his mind was laying his head on the wooden table as they were playing a card game, the whiskey making the red carpet in the room spin.

And then…darkness. Void.

Freezingly cruel void.

And an uneasy feeling in his chest.

Did he even meet Suguru?

He ran a hand over his face, gripping his hair and yanking harshly. The pain helped him ground his thoughts, as he interrogated them to find the truth.

Did he think of him so hard he convinced himself into having a vivid dream so strong he could still feel Suguru’s lips on his own?

Was it because Nanami kept prodding about how long he planned to pretend he didn’t know where Suguru was hiding?

He closed his eyes tightly.

Was it the fact it’s been exactly three years since he'd exchanged his last words with Suguru?

A resentful laugh left his lips.

“You okay?” Shoko’s voice interrupted the whirl of his mind before he could drive himself mad with questions. And guilt.

“You looked rough last night.” She walked in, watching him from the corner of her eye as she grabbed a change of clothes from the tall dresser, closing the glass door.

Satoru laughed. “Happens when you don’t drink much usually.”

“Next time you fight me like last night, I’ll leave you to sleep on the porch, don’t try me.” She pointed her unlit cigarette at him making him raise his arms in defense. She stopped. “You had me worried.”

Satoru chuckled at her, a small word of thanks leaving his lips.

“Come on, the boys and Utahime are awake, we’re waiting for you to eat.”

Satoru groaned as she hurried him off the bed, the throbbing of his head drowning in the waves of nausea as he walked to the bathroom connected to the room.

“Really shouldn’t have let me drink.”

His whole body felt numb, this time not from alcohol, but from the deceitful memories that seemed to mock him every time he closed his eyes.

He didn’t even know how he’d live through the day.

Shoko’s silence made him turn to look at her standing in the doorway, taking in her tired face.

He’d almost expected her to throw something at him.

“Why, you’re regretting hooking up with a criminal already?”

Satoru’s eyes widened, the blood in his body freezing once again as blue as his eyes were.

“What?” The word came out raspy from his lips, barely piecing the letters together, all the hope in the world clutching onto it.

Shoko’s eyebrows furrowed, she looked like she was angry. Yet on the verge of tears as she stared at him in silence. Letting him collect his thoughts.

“That… happened?” His voice was almost inaudible.

“Don’t get caught, Gojo,” she paused, her hand almost crushing the cigarette as she balled her fists, “and bring that fool over sometime too. You’re not the only one who misses him.”

Her words struck like a knife into his heart. He never gave it a thought.

She didn’t want to lose them either. It was selfish to think Suguru was only his home.

He gave her a light smile, leaving to refresh himself as her steps quieted.

He decided it wouldn’t be so bad to have more parties like last night’s one.

Parties that will give him an excuse to visit his one and only.

#satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #gojo satoru x geto suguru #jjk fanfic #ao3 fanfic #satosugu fanfic #gojo fanfic #geto fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #my fic #fanfiction #jjk angst #jjk hurt/comfort

24 notes · View notes

felisglacialis-stuff · 28 days

Text

The end of an Era

Yesterday morning, on the 27th of March 2024 my dear cat Neo passed away at an age of almost 17 years. He was the last of our Oriental cats and his passing marks the end of an era for me. Our first Oriental Longhair was Jayto, born November 27th 2003 who later got company of Nintu, a black Oriental Shorthair born August 26th 2006. Sadly, Jayto got sick and died at an age of only 3 years old, not long after Nintu came. Nintu needed another Oriental cat friend because our ‘regular’ cat Joey, who had been with us since early 1995, was not interested in Oriental cat style stickiness. And so Neo came; a black Oriental Longhair born on May 9th 2007. Neo and Nintu have been best buddies for over 13 years. They played together, slept together and went on adventures together- including our family holidays. Their personalities were polar opposites and that made them such a good match.

youtube

When Nintu died on May 7th 2020 at an age of almost 14, Neo missed his buddy so much that we adopted Yuka, a red ‘regular’ cat. He gave Neo some proper distraction with his naughtiness - hence his nickname “Geboefte” , which means criminal in Dutch.

Neo was one of the loveliest, social and most easy going cats whom I’ve known. He was timid and careful but also the most talkative and intimate. Cuddles were almost always welcome and most led to roll and belly-rub session. He had the peculiar habit to do ‘stairs sticky’ as we called it: he stood on the first or 2nd floor while you had to stand a few steps lower on the stairs with your face was at his level and cuddle him.

We often gently joked about his funny look and mannerisms. He was exceptionally small (3.5 kg at max) for a tomcat, always had a bony butt, a pronounced sternum bone that stuck out and a lean but well filled ‘sack of organs’ along with a slightly kinked tail tip. Despite his small size, his paws were proportionally huge, which was not a desired trait for the breed - but I didn’t care; I love big paws. He had a very typical quiet, calm and elegant gait with small steps and an elevated head. Quite the opposite of Nintu’s big steps and -always-in-a-rush- pace. Neo and the other Oriental cats have left us so many precious memories. These will always remain.

Neo was also the last Feline with whom I had an intimate bond. Since I moved out of my parents’ house in 2012. I was not physically living with him anymore but I came back regularly and Neo was always there to be ‘sticky’ again. Until now. The next time I’m going back, he won’t be there anymore.

But his spirit stays

#Neo #end of an era #Oriental Longhair #my Feline friend #Mandarin #Javanese #Oriental cat #Black #Ebony #Youtube

10 notes · View notes

redux-iterum · 7 months

Note

Could describe Ravenwing in detail (with picture ref if you like) for me please? I’m having trouble picturing him without my bias mental image of Ravenpaw who looks like a skinny lil Windclanner popping up - I need to fully separate Rawvenwing as a different char with a different look in my head, haha.

Thank you!!

Sure thing!

The way I see him, and the way I write him, is of a thin but tall longhaired black cat. He's got the white mark on the chest and a white tail-tip, and his eyes are a vibrant green.

In terms of head shape, his head is narrow for a ThunderClanner, which equates to him having a normal cat's head. Maybe a tiny bit thinner than normal, but nowhere near the exaggerated Oriental shape one sees in WindClan. His ears, I figure, are long and have so slight of a tuft that he might as well not have it at all.

Body-wise, he's described in the allegiances as "scrawny", but that's really just for a ThunderClanner. He's skinny so that his fairly long fur drapes off of him, it being even-lengthed from his chest to his tail. It doesn't hide his skinniness because his fur is not fluffy, just long. With his legs making up most of his height, he's tall and sleek and could look elegant if he wasn't constantly tense and with a lowered head like he's expecting to be hit.

This picture is about the best equation to my vision I can give! Just imagine the white markings and much deeper green eyes.

#ask #anonymous #i speak #ravenwing #descriptions #unrelated: this was the 2000th post on this blog #i find that nice

26 notes · View notes

cha0s-boyy · 2 months

Text

[ID: six simple lineless drawings of cat characters, framed so their heads and shoulders are in-frame. 1. a calico cat with a thick ruff of fur around his neck. he has bright pink eyes that are wide open, and he is smiling with his mouth open. 2. a gray cat with a silver face and neck. he has half-lidded eyes, one cyan and one yellow, as well as a crooked smile. 3. an orange tabby cat with sparse thin stripes. he has an earring with a jingle bell in one ear. he has yellow half-lidded eyes, and a relaxed open-mouth smile. 4. a spiky-furred gray cat with a black face and neck, silver tabby stripes, and a star on his forehead. he has green eyes, with one eyebrow furrowed, and a small grin. 5. a red-brown cat with white on his chest and a dark-tipped hair tuft. he has one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed, and a crooked smile that's slightly open. 6. a longhair colorpoint cat with a beige body, and brown face, ears, and hair tips. she has green eyes with distinct eyelashes, and a small smug smile. /end ID]

i offer this style for commissions btw! super cheap too; we're talking 5$ for a headshot/bust like this. check out my comm page (in header and pinned) for more info!

7 notes · View notes

theclaravoyant · 9 months

Note

soft prompt , if i may request aziraphale playing with crowley's hair?

AN ~ whOOPs guess i'm weak for longhaired crowley and so is aziraphale. and with they/them pronouns for crowley this time because i said so

prompt me the soft prompts meme or otherwise, muse permitting

“Crowley?”

“Mm?”

“May I come in?”

“‘Course.”

The door is already slightly cracked, but Aziraphale pushes it the rest of the way. He feels a strange swooping motion in his chest as he sees Crowley laid out in the tub. Their long red hair spills over the back of it in a freshly washed garnet curtain, their body a tangle of long limbs protruding from steaming water and luscious towers of bubbles. Their eyes are closed, and it feels …

“Sorry,” Aziraphale finally manages. “I didn’t mean to interrupt”

Crowley’s lip quirks into a smile, and they crack open one gleaming yellow eye. Mischievous thing. “You didn’t. I let you in, didn’t I?”

Suddenly Aziraphale has forgotten why he’d asked to come in in the first place. He’s forgotten what in is and what a bathroom is and it’s all he can do to be enraptured by the way candlelight bounces off the bubbles and the glass of wine in Crowley’s long and elegant fingers, not to mention their beautiful hair. It’s like looking at the sun. Perhaps even the first sunrise that ever was.

“You were moisturising?” Crowley prompts.

“Of course.”

Aziraphale blinks and tries to focus. Christ alive, he hadn’t expected their living together to be full of so much… temptation.

Crowley makes a small, satisfied sound in their throat. It’s somewhere between a purr and a laugh. They close their eyes again.

“If you’ve got nowhere to be, Angel,” they invite, “I could use a hand.”

“Of course.”

“There’s a brush on the counter there. Could you bring it here?”

Crowley rings their locks out just enough not to dump a small ocean on the floor as they reach for what Aziraphale has brought. But before they can take it, that strange and swooping feeling seizes the Angel again and the words spill from his lips -

“May I?”

For a moment, their smile seems to reach those marigold eyes.

“Why not?” Crowley agrees. They settle back in the tub, and Aziraphale sorts himself out a seat behind them. The first time he touches their hair it almost gives him a little shock. He’s pretty sure that’s all in his head, though. These bodies, this closeness, are such funny things.

Aziraphale drags the brush through Crowley’s locks, and a very nearly visible shiver runs through them. Soft, prickling sensation. They could happily bask in it until the end of time without another word, were it not for the fact that they - neither of them - were not very good at all just yet, at being together in silence.

“So…” Aziraphale wonders, brushing methodically. “Bubble bath?”

“What about it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just- didn’t really picture you for the type.”

Crowley scoffs. “The type for what? Gluttony? I’m a demon.”

“A demon who barely eats. Who lives in- well, used to live in a place so spare it was practically a furniture catalogue.” Aziraphale frowns. “It just doesn’t seem your…preferred vice. If I may.”

“It’s not,” Crowley returns, “but you hardly have a monopoly, Angel. Can I not also, occasionally, luxuriate?”

They tip their head back, blinking up at Aziraphale as they take care to pronounce it between their teeth. Luxuriate. Aziraphale has never heard a better, more indulgent, more beautiful word.

Then-

“That’s enough now,” Crowley says, breaking eye contact at last to move back to their more comfortable position without their neck at such a crook.

Aziraphale puts the brush aside, but he’s still got a handful of Crowley’s hair. He finds he really doesn’t want to put it down. But- is Crowley asking him to stop? That’s enough- what’s enough? That moment of eye contact? It feels too abrupt to end now, yet too presumptuous to keep going.

So as slowly as he can bear it, Aziraphale retreats. He strokes his fingers through Crowley’s freshly brushed locks, treasuring the smooth, soft shine and letting them fall free one by one. If he’s to leave, he figures, why not allow himself one last little skin-tingling moment of pleasure on his way? Luxuriate. And it pays, this time, to treat himself, as Crowley reaches back and grabs his wrist before he can let the last of it fall through.

“You know,” they suggest. “It- it dries nicer if it’s braided.”

Aziraphale doesn’t need telling twice.

#ineffable spouses #gomens fic #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #enby!crowley #i love writing crush!aziraphale he is SO IN LOVE and it's a mood #prompt me stuff #clara's fic tag

11 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs