#divinelyplanned

the  angel  turns  when  the  bell  above  the  door  jingles,  a  joyous  smile  spreading  across  her  face.  her  hair  is  in  a  messy  bun  piled  onto  her  head  as  she  works  on  a  bouquet  for  a  wedding.  "just  a  moment,"  they  call,  putting  the  last  lily  in  before  walking  around  the  counter,  "oh,  it's  you."

hozier memes | accepting

crowley  doesn’t  remember  the  last  time  she’s  been  speechless,  she’s  willing  to  bet  it  was  over  a  couple  hundred  years  ago  now.  maybe  less,  maybe  it  was  seeing  @divinelyplanned  stand  up  to  that  demon  —  back  when  they  had  been  on  the  west  end.  that  had  been  a  split  second  though  —   it  was  silence.  it  was  crowley  trying  to  find  a  response,  trying  to  find  any  words. 

some  part  of  his  brain  supplies  that  honey  is  a  new  term  of  endearment.  they  have  been  dear  or  my  dear  for  what  seems  like  thousands  of  years  now.  she  realizes  that  she  had  reacted,  she  had  gasped,  aziraphale  had  startled  that  reaction  out  of  her. 

“try  to  love  you??”  he  whispers,  finally  finding  his  way  back  to  his  voice.  “you  —  aziraphale,”  not  angel,  but  their  name,  “you  broke  my  heart.  not  the  other  way  around.”  his  voice  is  slowly  rising,  he  feels  like  he  is  having  some  sort  of  dream.  or  maybe  —  can  demons  have  psychotic  breaks??  certainly  his  version  of  a  psychotic  break  would  be  a  vision  of  aziraphale  begging  him  to  love  them.  “you  don’t  get  to  come  here  and  throw  a  love  confession  in  my  face,”  he  takes  a  step  closer  and  points  a  finger  at  aziraphale,  pokes  at  his  chest,  “you  idiot,  it  doesn’t  work  like  this.  what  happened  you  realized  heaven  wasn’t  all  it  cracked  up  to  be??  so  now  —  you  settle  for  me.”  they  try  to  stop  themself  from  this,  from  rejecting  aziraphale,  because  they  don’t  want  to.  they  just  don’t  want  to  get  their  heart  broken  again.  “angel,”  she  breathes  it  out,  voice  overcome  with  emotion,  so  close  to  tears. “if  you  mean  this,  then  prove  it.”

old memes

@divinelyplanned asked: “Best to keep you out of it so you have deniability.”

IT'S SWIFT , the way the anger spikes through her . it's hot and spiky , and crowley genuinely , briefly , considers throttling aziraphale .

𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐌 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓 & 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐓 : the picture of faux delight. " good to know you'd choose me over the vast legions of hell, archangel. 'm flattered ... you really know how to butter a guy up, huh? " that showman's grin fell to a tight line, resolute, and shaded eyes flicked to the ceiling. to the floor. anywhere that wasn't him.

perhaps their sour mood was unfair, all things considered, but he would clutch to it like a lifeline nonetheless. how else would they survive side-by-side with aziraphale ( of course he would help them. OF COURSE. ) ?

'  𝐍𝐆𝐊,  𝐁𝐀𝐇  𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐔𝐆.  '    𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍  𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐅𝐅  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐎𝐍  𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐄,  like  a  call  and  response.    his  eyes  hadn't  yet  left  the  newspaper  spread  out  before  him.   '  not  sure  why  humans  care  so  much  about  what's  falling  from  the  sky  on  their  frivolous  little  holiday.  '    rustling  punctuated  the  silence  as  they  flipped  their  page.    '  when  was jesus  born, again?  er, june,  orr  sommat?   i  dunno,  just  remember  it  was  DAMNED HOT OUT. '

the eve of december twenty-third and the streets were still bustling with frantic procrastinators, fretting and fussing. a glance out the shop window showed a chaos of headlights, but it was safe within these walls. ' ... don't tell me you want to go caroling or decorate a tree, angel? ' would they partake, if it was asked of them? of course. bit of a lark, really : a demon participating in christmas festivities ( just maybe that was BLASPHEMOUS in and of itself ). and well, first holiday since lockdown lifted. some little flyaway thought tucked into the corner of his mind suggested they'd do just about anything if it meant staying a bit longer.

the  dress  is  a  blush  pink  silk  and  compliments  their  figure  well.  normally,  it  wouldn't  be  allowed  --  but  what  heaven  doesn't  know  won't  hurt  them.  it's  not  that  she  thinks  the  almighty  would  even  mind,  it's  the  other  angels.  they  know  that  there's  no  reason  to  question  why  all  of  them  seem  to  stick  to  white  and  beige,  but  kokabiel  is  on  earth.  they  will  wear  what  the  situation  may  require. 

mammon  had  phoned,  said  something  about  dressing  up  and  a  very  important  mission  --  that  may  or  may  not  result  in  dancing. they  don't  often  question  the  demon  when  things  like  this  arise,  they  know  that  he  wouldn't  lie  just  to  spend  time  together  --  not  when  kokabiel  practically  falls  to  the  whims  of  the  demon  to  spend  time  together.  she  fixes  a  stray  red  curl,  facing  herself  in  the  mirror  and  takes  a  moment  to  blot  the  extra  lipstick  with  a  tissue. they  won't  deny  that  they  are  putting  a  small  amount  of  extra  effort,  if  only  to  watch  mammon's  reaction. 

after  double  checking  everything  was  in  place,  he  moves  downstairs  to  wait  for  @divinelyplanned ,  going  over  the  details  in  their  mind  again.  dance,  fancy  dress,  mammon  meeting  them  at  the  shop.  she  hears  footsteps  and  turns  with  a  smile,  "hello  starlight,"  they  greet  with  a  smile,  taking  a  few  steps  to  meet  them.  the  comment  from  mammon  has  them  blushing  a  bright  pink,  refusing  to meet  their  eyes,  "oh,  please. is  this  part  of  being  a  demon??  smooth  talking??"

𝐆𝐎𝐃, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ... bordering on straight up mortifying, actually. eyes shut so tight the skin crinkled about them, knees drawn up to their chin and held there by a white knuckled grip. the bookshelf at his back was grounding ; breathe in, breathe out. was the room spinning? ' i, er I'M AN IDIOT, i-i'm sorry, ' they swallowed around the lump in their throat with considerable effort and pushed the stray crimson strands from their forehead ... were his hands still trembling? ' i'm not great at, um - CROWDS? er ... didn't realize whickber street had quite so many shopkeepers, i s'pose. my fault for being such a fucking recluse. ' a derisive snort of laughter ; palms dragged down his face with a muffled groan.

' great party, aziraphale panic attack aside. y'know. '