#threads. crowley

[blindsite]

@ofeasterngate texted crowley : i bought some new records this morning.

[ 📲 : angel ] oh yeah?

[ 📲 : angel ] any of interest to me?

[ 📲 : angel ] i don't want to listen to only classical for hours so i'll only drive over if it's something i like.

[blindsite]

@wampirszy said : " you don't have to pretend with me. "

upon his acquaintances frankness, the demon's mouth open and shut once before he sighed shortly. not irritation as much as acceptance. ❝ very well then. ❞ a hand reached for his small, round spectacles and pulled them off. eyes averted only long enough to tuck them safely into a pocket within his ornate black doublet. golden gaze flickered back to the other man and chin rose so the street lamp cast over his face more so than before. ❝ now that that is out of the way. what can i do for you? ❞

he didn't plan to address it because the answer was pretty clear to him. just breeze right over. the other was most likely nonhuman as well and who would want to discuss that in broad — well, not daylight, but certainly with too many people milling about. toussaint never slept. crowley liked that. always a place open and serving some of the best wine he'd had in ages.

[blindsite]

@azafell plotted !

in the near year it had been since their last conversation ( if one could call it that ) crowley had spent it in a few different states : angry, so angry he wanted to tear the shelves down in the bookshop and chuck all of the books into the street to be taken, ran over, pissed on, whatever else. he wouldn't have cared ( yes, he would have and so he'd never have actually done it ). horribly sad, depressed one could even say. and a moment or two of self pity and loathing thrown in here and there. but, with no idea of what to say and no way to contact the angel, he stayed in his own lane.

once the mood swings calmed enough that he could look at the ' A.Z. Fell and Co. ' sign without grinding his teeth so hard that he brought tears to his well-hidden eyes, he started mulling on some ideas. ideas just in case aziraphale didn't want to be in heaven running things anymore. alpha centauri had been offered twice now with little success so he struck that off the list. maybe they could visit some day, if the angel ever forgave him. if he ever apologized. but that wasn't what he was thinking of now. no, he was thinking of what gabriel and beelzebub had started. a truce, a stasis of sorts, a 'live and let live' type of motto. it would take a lot of work, which he was loathe to think of having to do anything with any other demon or angel other than his own.

he sat doing all this in his bentley a safe couple of blocks away from the bookshop. nina and maggie would talk of how sweet he was to be keeping an eye on the place while mr. fell was gone. and how right they would be that that was exactly what he was doing. in the seat beside him and crumpled up in the back were pages of furious scribbling, holes ripped through in places where he had crossed something out so vehemently that the paper couldn't stand the force of it anymore. balls of paper were amongst a few bottles of wine and one of liquor. he may have drank excessively in the beginning.

suddenly, there was a shift in the air. crowley's spine straightened like a rod of lightning struck him at his top vertebra and exited his tailbone. sure enough, in the distance, there was a familiar figure in white standing in the street near the bookshop. as if he could be heard, or seen very well at all for that matter, he cleared his throat and continued his work with head dipped low. if aziraphale were looking for him, he'd certainly have spotted the car and would come closer. the demon wouldn't make a move for now.

[blindsite]

@fellandfeathers said : " i trust you. completely. "

when given their assignments to look over the antichrist, crowley and aziraphale lived in the same house for years. occasionally, they would meet outside of work at some restaurant or other to talk of how their influences over the boy were going. thankfully, not in their disguises as nanny and brother francis. he wore tight clothes normally, but something about the stockings nearly sent him over the edge on a daily basis.

the time was approaching for the hellhound to find its master and crowley found himself worrying, though his outer appearance wouldn't betray that fully. no, he was cool. so cool when he spoke of their teachings. the arm holding the glass of wine was bent and draped over back of his chair as he sat in it a bit precariously. legs were crossed over the other and a black-booted foot dangled in the air, bobbing occasionally as he spoke of the boy's behavior in lessons and out.

aziraphale's words came in the middle of a longwinded sentence about a story he'd been telling warlock the other day. for just a moment, the demon looked astounded before he cleared his throat and washed it down over a swig of wine. ❝ well, i do the best i can. and i'm sure so do you, angel. maybe, he'll turn out only half-evil after all. ❞ half-good more like. he assumed what the other meant was that he was trusted not to teach him anything harmfully evil. and he'd be right.