#crowlia

[jasper-rolls]

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Concealed Moon - Crowlia [Skydiving EP]

[buggeredson-a]

ஐ

send ‘ஐ’ for my muse’s reaction to yours shoving them against the wall and sticking their hand down his/her pants

"Ooo," Crowley crooned, dropping his head back against the wall and watching her with a smirk. He had, admittedly, felt a drop in his stomach only moments before, thinking his charade up and his time limited—being suddenly slammed against a wall by a slayer was less than desirable—but with her hand shoved down his pants…well. There was no need to panic just yet. "Feeling a bit frisky today, luv?"

[buggeredson-a]

✆

Send me a ✆ to know your name/ringtone/picture in my character’s mobile.

Name: Shag in the Jag

Ringtone:'Cause I may be bad,But I’m perfectly good at it!Sex in the air,I don’t care,I love the smell of it!Sticks and stones may break my bones,But chains and whips excite me~

Picture:

[buggeredson-a]

[Now I have to look at this from my own perspective, or the bigger picture, since as we know she's kind of blind to one big detail atm... every time I've considered it, she always comes out on the fence about the whole his being a demon/King of Hell thing, but eventually it would be like, "Pro: The sex is really great. Con: He's a demon. Sort of pro: At least he's not one of -those- demons, with antlers or ooze. Con: You're boinking Pazuzu/Captain Howdy." The list would likely go on and on.]

Send me one pro and one con you could see with having sex with my character.

[PUBLISHING FOR THE BRILLIANCE OF IT ALL.

NEVER DOUBT WHY I LOVE YOU.]

[buggeredson-a]

“I have work in the morning.”

Send “I have work in the morning,” and I’ll write my character taking the Walk of Shame out of your character’s place after a one-night stand.

The light, airy notes bounced down the hotel’s halls, erratic and silly, forming a nonsense tune in the air. There was only one woman in the hallways—the maid—who looked over her shoulder to the whistling’s source: A well-dressed gentleman, older, his hands shoved in his pockets. She looked away too quickly, goaded by the look on his face: The grin of the cat who had caught the canary.

He passed by with an air of victory and grace, and there was very little doubt in her mind as to what had transpired behind the heavy door of his room the night before.

"Morning." God. He had a rough, low voice like sex, and she smiled sheepishly up at him.

"Morning."

He kept walking, whistling, and pressed the button for the elevator. His suit was impeccable—had it even gotten mussed up the night before? It looked so clean and well-pressed. She felt embarrassed; maybe the poor guy hadn’t done anything after all and she was just projecting the sort of excitement she had hoped to find here on him.

Ding! He stepped into the elevator, pressing the ground-floor button and catching the maid’s eye on him again. He offered her a wolfish grin, wiggling his fingers at her. The doors slid shut on him, but not before a very loud, very angry, almost frantic voice screamed out and shook the corridor.

"CROWLEY!"She gasped, and missed the widening of his smile as the doors slid entirely shut on him, fingering the little black bit of lace in his pocket.