ticketyboos
/ hi ! i ' m feeling better today so cb for anything and specify the mood !
ticketyboos
-SH0WP0NY-
[[ hi hi! i really love this, may i drop?? ]]
ticketyboos
/ hi . i ' m not really in the best mood rn so i probably won't be as active today or . . . . might be to distract myself idk ,, just so you know
SNAKEDEVOTIONS
‘ Zara your over reacting “ the male grumbled looking around at the bookstore which had a smell of chocolate and roses . It was a pleasant smell he wouldn’t deny that but the roses had been every where knowing how the holiday had been for humans .
taceplantae
angel. [ crowley says it by way of greeting, more or less. ] hi. i overslept, sorry. my phone went out dead, that's why my alarm didn't ring. [ he's going to start stuttering if he doesn't get it over with. he grimaces; two days too late to valentine's day, no, three days, and he's still got the guts to stretch out a small, simple bouquet of cream white and sunlight yellow daffodils. ] happy.. something.
taceplantae
[ there it is: dear boy. crowley can’t stop himself from offering the slightest of all smiles he is capable of. it’s them. ] gosh, you look so stupid in that attire, [ he says, trying to lighten the mood, and shoots a twinkly, cheeky smirk at aziraphale. ] all that fuss for a simple sketch. i remember that you INSISTED on putting on the jacket, and it was in the summer heat. and you regretted it in EARNEST, [ he purrs, carefully folding the sketch, making sure the paper wouldn’t crack. ] oh, angel.
/ THATS FINE ILY ❤️❤️❤️
ticketyboos
-` @taceplantae * aziraphale ' s eyes widened ,,. feeling his cheeks burning . oh god . oh dear . * o - of course i kept it ! it ' s us ! painted by da vinci ! * he said ,, like it was the most obvious thing in the world . * still ,, thank you for the flowers ,, dear boy . / SORRY OMFG MY AZIRAPHALE MUSE WENT LOW TODAY
taceplantae
[ you're really nice --- hell's bells go off in crowley's head, and he just harrumphs, glowering at aziraphale mildly. the not-very-frightening glare softens at the angel's next words nonetheless. what? no. that's just .. wrong. crowley is the one who gives, and gives, and gives, endlessly, and receiving is .. not his forte. awkwardly, crowley sets the bundle of flowers --- new beginnings, daffodils mean, and they reminded him of how aziraphale practically SHINES with happiness, like the blasted sun --- down on his desk, before stretching out his hands to take the sketch. ] ah, i .. you've kept it, [ he says, stating the obvious once again, dumbly. his heart is going BATSHIT in his chest. unsure of what else to say, crowley looks back up. ] you.. kept it. after all this time?
ticketyboos
/ GUYS GUYS IM HERE I FINISHED MY FINALS WAHOOO
taceplantae
/ nobody:
snake crowley: https://www.instagram.com/p/B_dy-6_HtAv/?igshid=yma0e1ick20q
ticketyboos
-` @taceplantae / WHY I IMAGINE HIM LIKE DOING THE WEIRD JUMPS THE WORM DOES JUST TO SCARE AZIRA PLEASE
mothmouse
are you like - my uncle , or something ?
taceplantae
the bookshop’s as dusty and comfortable and stuffed-full as the day it was — all right, no. crowley would know. ‘kay, alright. the bookshop’s as bookshop-ey as it was before the whole armageddon .. thing, which didn’t happen. he can’t bring himself to quit hovering around aziraphale anymore. he’s anxious, naps on the couch, doesn’t even like to go outside and leave the angel by himself. he’d stand by the window for hours on end, staring outside, keeping watch from .. something. it’s scary. freedom is scary. they can’t know if they’re really free now. even after the bodyswap stunt. they can’t. it’s too dangerous. wherever aziraphale goes, crowley will follow — it’s been like that, always, but now it’s more extreme. crowley doesn’t even dare to set foot outside of the bookshop. can’t even sit down in his bentley. (it BURNED. and his flat? there’s a puddle of holy water yet to be cleaned up, and crowley is too scared, the shock sits in his bones too deep, to go back and do just that.) the bookshop burned, too. what if he leaves, and when he comes back, it’ll be as it was before? what if aziraphale would be gone again?
it’s nonsensical. and yet. behind himself, he can hear aziraphale shifting, flipping a page, or whatever, tucking books back into their spots. crowley turns to look at him, lips pressed into a thin line, shoulders tense. “d’you think we’re really .. ACTUALLY safe?”
taceplantae
crowley elbows the front door open, shivers at the gust of wind that greets him coldly, and turns back around to snatch the scarf he brought off the rack, too. winding it around his neck and burrowing his nose into the warming fabric, he exits the bookshop, stretching his limbs once he’s on the pavement.
feels odd, being outside again. he hasn’t gone out in .. mere days, but it feels like years, like decades. he swivels around to face aziraphale. “so, where are we going, then? how ‘bout you decide this time?”
ticketyboos
-` @taceplantae aziraphale furrowed his brows, and let out a little pout. it wasn't really exaggerated — but it could be noticed. " as if i would let you curse my cherished books ! now, let's go. " he said. the angel could get why crowley was grumbling like this, but that didn't mean he could growl at him like that. it was not like he was / really / angry at him anyways. he could never be angry at crowley. he buttoned up his waistcoat, looking at the street for any sign of suspicious activity. there wasn't anything that really catched aziraphale's eye, so he thought that they were good to go.
taceplantae
not near the park — because it’s / their / spot. well; GREAT! no more .. duck-feeding, and well-meant banter on THEIR bench. fantastic. he heaves a breath. taking a walk outside is still better than anything else he can do inside the bookshop, though. crowley does his best to not stomp towards the front door and pull on his jacket — bloody HELL, he’s frustrated.
“am i really sure?” he bites back, “yes, angel, i’m bloody sure, i can’t sit around here much longer before i spontaneously combust or start turning your books into .. goats, or something.” he grumbles, something incoherent, and yanks the zipper of his jacket up to his chin. it’s still chilly outside.
taceplantae
/ im ???? SCREAMING