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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

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"But what about the horns?"

Crowley sighed, trying to keep a smile on his face without laughing.

"That's just a legend, Adam. Demons don't actually have horns - I mean, if they do, that's just aesthetic, but then again our mortal forms are quite changeable while our essence is not. So you could see me shapeshift, but if I were to show my real form I wouldn't be able to add anything to it."

Adam took a bite off his sandwhich and then drank some of his lemonade. Then he shook his head.

"Alright, no horns. But what about the tail?"

Crowley wanted to slam his head on the table.

"There is. There is no tail, Adam. And no fangs, no nothing. Just-" he pointed at his glasses. "Just the eyes. And the tattoo, which I can't hide. Unless I wear make up, but even then, it's hard. It's made to show others that I'm. You know. A demon."

Adam nodded solemnly, and kept eating his snack. In the background, an old gramophone was hiccuping its way through Art Tatum's Tea For Two. Crowley was slowly tapping his foot to the beat, while checking the oven behind his young godson: he'd be blessed if he let that stupid croquembouche burn. He'd invented French Cuisine, and he would not be beaten by his own invention.

"Why do you cook instead of just magic-ing your food?"

Good Lord, this kid was a menace. He loved him so much he felt like he'd combust.

"Well, we do that sometimes. But I, for one, love cooking. It's hard and it takes a lot of skill and it's satisfying-" he realized his motivations were slightly un-demonic of him. "And besides, it involves fire. Hell likes fire." There, much better now.

"Can you turn into anything?"

Crowley turned into a snake and then back to his human self, before giving the boy a look that demanded some kind of wow or amazing!

Adam blinked twice.

"I can. Technically. But it's the most natural one- I mean, you could crawl everywhere, but you walk because it's more natural."

"And because Dad throws a fit if I get my trousers dirty with mud. He doesn't like grass either."

"Yeah, that too." Crowley agreed. He wondered briefly what having a Dad would be like, before shrugging and standing up, walking to the fridge to take the limoncello filling out.

"What do I call you?"

That question left him standing still. Adam munched on his sandwhich.

"I don't know. Foul fiend is a bit outdated, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Can I just call you Dad? You said you're my godfather, right?"

Crowley's cheeks became as red as the flower he turned to dust out of shock.

"I- I'm not sure your Dad would like that very much. And you can't call me, him and Aziraphale the same way, right?" he hated the sudden high pitch of his voice.

"I'll ask Pepper what she thinks. Can you turn into a girl?"

Crowley's mind went to his closet upstairs, filled to the brim with suits and dresses and high heels and his heart jumped in his chest.

"I can." Then, more quietly, "I do."

"Why?"

"Dunno. Feels right. I spent the whole Roaring 20s as a woman, just ask your godfather about it. And then another eleven years after you were born. It's just-"

"Natural," Adam interrupted him, looking up with awe in his young eyes. He'd be less impressed if I told him I was Superman, Crowley thought. He just nodded, and Adam beamed.

"Can I see, one day? I think you would look very pretty. Especially now that your hair is longer, you look more... you."

"Sure," Crowley whispered, breathless. Adam wanted to see him. Adam didn't think he was weird.

Many humans did, and he couldn't count the times someone had shouted at him in the streets. When Aziraphale was with him, the unfortunate human would encounter a fate worse than death. When he was on his own, they would have the worst week of their miserable life. Or month, depending on how happy he was that day.

"Wow," the kid said, dreamily. "You're the coolest demon godfather ever."

Crowley hid his pleased smile in the oven, pretending to check the dessert.

"And you're the strangest little human I've ever encountered," he replied from behind his croquembouche, hoping it'd hide his red cheeks.

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Some color photographs from the Edward Gorey production of “Dracula” starring Frank Langella.

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*squints* Are his trousers flared in that first picture?!?

Also, excellent 1970s white guy ‘fro, 10/10.

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“Bela Lugosi, Gary Oldman, they’re vampires.”

“Frank Langella was the only performance I believed, but…” - Angel, Eternity

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wyvernquill asked:

Crowley also Just Cannot with any type of conductor. The last time he tried playing as part of an orchestra (Vienna 1753, third bassoon from the left) he ended up challenging the conductor to a fencing duel right down there in the orchestra pit. (And lost spectacularly.) Aziraphale loves playing as part of an ensemble, but Crowley is more of a soloist. At *most*, he plays duets with certain angels. Maybe.

Oh mood. Yeah Crowley is more of a solo person but Really? I think he’s not keen on performing in front of a lot of people anyway. I don’t really get that vibe from him.

Oh And fun fact: bassoon in German is Fagott. ;)

:) music ask crowley hc