nyxwritesstuff19

[nyxwritesstuff19]

It was a gloomy day by common standards, sharp wind whipped through the streets without moving the clouds lying thick across the sky, dark with rain and making the air fizzle with the promise of a storm.  

The weather made them smile. They never looked too deep into the ‘why?’ but they’d always loved winter and the weather it brought. The thought of lashing rain made them grin and pick up the pace through the streets of Mayfair, they enjoyed the rain but they weren’t fond of catching a cold.  

Another whistle of wind made them tuck the bouquet further into their unzipped coat, protecting the fragile heads of pink and red roses. Luckily the flat was only another block away before they were safe inside, just in time for the rain to begin pattering down.  

By the time they got up to the flat, they could hear the water turning into a stormy roar and plinking harshly against the windows.  

“Crowley?” They called out, shrugging out of the leather jacket they stole from his wardrobe that morning. It was a good chance he was curled up somewhere warm in weather like this and they shook their head, smiling at the thought of their scaly blanket burrito.  

The roses in their hand gave them pause before they stepped further inside. Crowley loved growing flowers, they knew that. They’d gone over this time and again in their heads ever since the idea of getting him flowers cropped up and here they were, caught again in the echoing thralls of Square 1: ‘would he actually like them?’.  

It was too late to feasibly back out now, they knew that. Only allowing one last moment of wavering in their choice before they pressed on to look for Crowley. There was no yelling or snapping remarks, meaning he wasn’t surrounded by his plants and the sofa was empty, leaving the bedroom as the only place he’d be.  

Biting down on their lip, they gently knocked on the door as they nudged it open, grinning at the pile of blankets surrounding vivid yellow eyes.  

“Warm enough?” They teased, stepping further inside.  

Crowley stuck out his forked tongue, “No, get in here.” 

Chuckling, they kicked off their jeans and shirt so Crowley could achieve the maximum amount of skin-to-skin contact possible, even though he still complained wasn’t enough. 

They knee-walked across the bed, letting him swallow them up in his blanket mound while being mindful of their gift. Crowley glanced down at them, tilting his head like 45 degrees of an angle could make the flora give up their reason of existence.  

“What’re those?” he asked, eyes roving judgmentally over the petals.  

“Flowers.” They answered slowly, pressing into his side. “For you. From me. I thought- well it made sense that, uh- Just that you’d.. Like them?” Wincing at themselves, they stared down at the flowers in their lap and braced for a reaction.  

Nimble fingers slid the bundle out of their hands and they waited another heavy moment before lips pressed a kiss to the apple of their cheek. 

“They’re very pretty.” He said, smiling when they finally looked up at him.  

“You like ‘em?” They asked, grinning giddily.  

Crowley rolled his eyes with a playful scoff, “of course I like them. You got them for me.” 

Red heated their cheeks and they turned their face into his sternum, hiding away even though he could feel their grin against his skin like they felt his chuckles in his chest.  

They felt the air shift with a miracle and watched Crowley carefully shuffling the roses to fit into a vase they’d never seen.  

“Never had cut flowers before.” He mused, still smiling down at them, brushing his fingertips along the petals.  

They hummed, leaning heavily into his side as the warmth of his blankets made them snoozy, “Wasn’t sure if you’d like ‘em ‘cause they were cut but lugging a rose bush in here seemed impractical.” 

Crowley was quiet, setting the vase on the bedside table and pulling them to lay back against his chest as he sat against the headboard. Eventually he asked, “Why’d you get them?” 

They shrugged, remembering the many directions their thoughts had spun through to make the decision before finally landing on; “You deserve good things. And... I wanted to make you feel how I do, when you do stuff for me.” 

“What does yours feel like?” He murmured softly, almost lost in the ambient noise of the storm still raging outside.  

They snuggled in impossibly deeper, pressing a kiss to the skin protecting his corporation's heart. “Loved.” 

[nyxwritesstuff19]

Things People Say

“Bollocks.” Crowley cursed under his breath, searching his pockets again. He could very well miracle up another, but he had that specific bag specifically miracled almost twenty minutes ago to feed these specific ducks specifically and his brain had said specific too many times it was developing a lisp to his own ears.  

A duck quacked loudly at his feet and he narrowed his eyes at it. “In case it escaped your birdbrain, I don’t have any bloody food.” 

The duck only glared back at him and he engaged in the stare down until quiet giggles caught his attention. He turned to bright eyes sparkling with amusement. They were sat on the ground with a blanket rumpled up beneath them and a flock of ducks all nesting themselves in the wrinkles and pecking at the fabric.  

“I don’t think they speak English, I’m afraid.” they said, grinning. “You can sit if you want, though.” 

Crowley glanced over them consideringly before eyeing their little set up. It was difficult to maintain his swaying hips picking through the hoard of birds but he made it to a clear spot beside them, sitting with a soft huff.  

Nearer now, he spied the small green peas where he thought the ducks had been pulling at the blanket and smiled to himself.  

“You don’t feed ‘em bread either?” he asked casually, relaxing back under the weak sunshine.  

They shook their head, showing off the bag of peas in their hand. “This is better for them. They seem to like it too, which is a bonus.” 

“Why can’t ducks eat bread?” He wondered, watching another one waddling up to join them.  

They let him take some peas to feed it, humming consideringly before they answered. “Apparently, it’s about nutrition. There isn’t much in bread they benefit from, and it fills them up so they don’t eat the good stuff.” They scrunched their brows, looking up at the sky while they thought over their words. “It’s kind of like how you fill a cup full of ping pong balls and then sand. If you put the sand in first, you won’t get as many ping pong balls in. They need their ping pong balls first and their sand afterwards- if they still want it.” 

“Sand and ping pong balls? That’s a new one.” he smirked, amused.  

They flushed and shrugged their shoulders. “Weird, I know.” 

“Makes sense at least.” Crowley said, giving the ducks another round of peas. “Beats half the sayings humans have come up with over the years.” 

“They’ve all changed so much, though. And people don’t even remember the original saying, twisting it to fit them instead.” They commented, ignoring Crowley's wince at the slip up. “Like that whole ‘blood is thicker than water’ schtick.” 

“That’s not the original?” He asked, furrowing his brow. He’d heard it over the millennia but he couldn’t pinpoint an origin. 

They nodded, shifting to face him better where they sat criss cross. “The original was ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.’ meaning the complete opposite of what people use it for today.” 

Crowley hummed thoughtfully, glancing back over to them, “You know any others? The original ones I mean.” 

“Yeah, a few. Like ‘Jack of all trades but master of none.’ also has ‘but better than master of one’.” They continued only to smile down at a little duck insistently asking for some pets. “Another one would be curiosity killed the cat, it’s more commonly known that satisfaction brought it back. And ‘early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.’” 

“Bit morbid.” Crowley mused, scrunching his nose.  

Another giggle escaped their lips and his gaze was drawn back to their face, eyes pinched in the corners from their smile.  

“Maybe a bit, but it’s still technically true.” They conceded.  

Crowley smiled and their conversation continued with ease.  

Hours stretched, ducks came and went, and they both only thought to come back down to Earth when the peas were all gone and the ducks had all waddled back to the water.  

“Guess we should go.” They murmured, fiddling with a fold of the blanket.  

Crowley made a noise of agreement, trying not to acknowledge the fact he wasn’t at all prepared to let them go and lose their company.  

“Will you be back here, by any chance?” He asked quietly, almost hoping they hadn’t heard it as he helped them fold up the blanket.  

They flashed him a small smile, hugging the plush square to their chest. “Yeah, I can be.” 

“Tomorrow, perhaps?” Crowley grinned hopefully. 

“Tomorrow.” They agreed, reaching out and giving his bicep a warm squeeze before they slipped past.  

Crowley looked out over the pond, emotions swirling and fluttering in his chest, making his lips smile wide and already yearning for tomorrow to get to him already. 

[nyxwritesstuff19]

Hey guys.

My older brother and I had some.. issues, this morning. He decided to delete my tumblr account and soon after, he smashed my laptop for good measure.

I'm going to be reposting some stories I have copies of saved to my cloud drives from my old account, in case people are interested in reading them again or whatever they want to do. I'm lucky my phone and my school laptop survived his tantrum.

Just posting this as a kind of 'please don't crucify me because you think this isn't my work'. Trust me, it is. My brother's just... well, himeslf. And him being himself makes life difficult at the best of times.