“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Shan.”
“She sat next to her in chapel today.”
“Who sat next to who?”
“Whom,” Beatrice can’t stop herself from correcting.
“Oh, now you’re both giving me shit?”
“Language.”
Mary rolls her eyes.
“Camila sat next to Lilith in chapel. Left with her, too,” Shannon elaborates.
“Well, now, that is something,” Mary smirks.
“Do you gossip about all of us like this?” Beatrice asks.
“Absolutely, baby girl.”
“Mary,” Shannon sighs. Mary ignores her.
“Hopefully they find a quiet spot to have normal-ish conversation.”
“They were in the courtyard, discussing St. Theresa of Avila’s The Interior Castle,” Beatrice supplies. Mary groans.
ah yes, the emotionally charged mutual infodumping about random subjects because neither of them wants to just say "hey, how are you?" god forbid they have a regular conversation for no reason like normal people. others might get the impression that they're friends. what a horrible misconception would that be.
offtopic, but mary and bea would definitely have the back and forth of "who the fuck-" "language!" "WHOM the fuck-" "no!" (remind me to draw it later)
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Heyo! Hope you're well :)
Do you know of any fics in which Crowley seduces Aziraphale (and zira is ok w it)? Not with evil intentions, just bc he's horny tbh.
thanks ever so much !!
Hello! Here are some fics in which Crowley tempts Aziraphale (and Aziraphale wants him to!)...
And The Moon Be Still As Bright by CopperBeech (E)
After you stop an Apocalypse, then thwart Heaven and Hell’s plot to terminate you with extreme prejudice, you have to retreat to someplace comfortable and drink over it, don’t you? And in the relief of the moment, you can find yourself crossing lines that have been drawn for six thousand years. Possibly even erasing them entirely.
Get Thee Behind Me, Foul Fiend by D20Owlbear (E)
The morning the antichrist is delivered, Crowley seeks out Aziraphale for quite a lot of alcohol and to discuss what was going to happen, now that the world was on schedule to end. Aziraphale, of course, takes some convincing, and then we find them six hours into a drinking binge in the bookshop in Soho, London.
"Get thee behind me, foul fiend!"
“Very well,” Crowley’s voice was dark as chocolate and rich as the wine Aziraphale had offered only moments ago, “If you insist.”
Biblichor by LostGirlPip (E)
Biblichor: the word that describes the particular smell that belongs to old books.
Crowley discovers Aziraphale has a certain visceral reaction to the smell of old books. Always up for a good temptation, he decides to try out the extent of Azirphale's reaction. Smut ensues~
A Sense Of Desire by juliet (E)
"They were an angel and a demon. Occasionally, they engaged in minor indulgences of the flesh. Occasionally, they engaged in them together. That was all. Crowley told himself that, very firmly, and tried to forget that he might have seen something more of Aziraphale’s deepest desires, if he’d risked looking. That there was a moment where they might have known each other more deeply. They’d been kicking around Earth together for nearly six millennia, after all. They knew each other well enough, didn’t they?"
Crowley is a demon, and that means he has certain...powers. Powers about which Aziraphale is curious. This may or may not be a good idea.
These Violent Delights by redundant_angel (E)
Worried that Crowley will eventually grow tired of him and the Arrangement, a lust-struck Aziraphale pulls out all the stops to make an impression with his temptation abilities. Only, tempting a demon who already finds him irresistible may earn the angel more than he bargained for...
______
Crowley crossed one long leg effortlessly over the other, set aside his dark glasses, and fixed the angel with a smoldering look and a wicked grin.
“Tell me, angel. Do you like what you see?”
you’re not a religious person (but) by isozyme (M)
"I'm in a bit of a pickle, my dear," Aziraphale said over the telephone.
Crowley was seized by immediate fury. Not even a decade, and they're at it again, he thought viciously. You'd think they'd be embarrassed enough to stay out of things for a few centuries at least, after botching the apocalypse like that.
"Who's done something to you?" hissed Crowley.
"Ah," said Aziraphale, in the quiet tone of someone who didn't mean to learn someone else's secrets and was mildly sheepish about it. "This crossword clue -- I'm stuck -- 1980s French fencer, thought you might know. It's eight letters and has a Q in it."
"Trinquet," Crowley snapped, in the tone of someone who had revealed one of his secrets and was annoyed about it.
An account pertaining to the cultivation of figs, the ecstasy of St. Theresa of Avila, the ontological uncertainty of mammoths, the nature of temptation, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and the ten years following the end of the world.
- Mod D
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I had an amazingly enlightening conversation yesterday with one of the Sisters who run our University and it made me realize I’d been spending so much time looking outward that I had almost forgotten that my own self is sacred, too. This came after a discussion about “boundaries” with someone else but suddenly I began thinking of my own person as a holy city sanctified by God and containing all the gifts that give me joy (one thing the Sister asked me was, observing my “heaviness”, what I do for fun) and how little attention I’ve really paid that city. But if God is within us (and God is, let St. Theresa of Avila tell you about the Interior Castle) then the care of that city is of the greatest importance. I’d just read that St. Augustine ordered priorities as God first, then your own soul, then your neighbor, and then your physical needs. But after God you have to attend to your own person or it actually goes against your nature as a human being.
I don’t know if I have ever taken inventory of what I actually am as something definite and circumscribed as all human beings are; I think women especially (and if you were deemed “gifted” it’s worse) are expected to be all things to all people, or at very least compromise as much as possible. But in reality we are each extremely unique creations, like individual blades of grass. In our contemporary culture of homogenization and like-seeking through mass appeal, how much more are we subverting our most personal selves?
If each thing that brings you joy is a building in a city, what is that city like? Is there a garden? A library? I’m going to map this all out. I’m going to draw it if I have to, before I meet with the Sister again in a month.
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13 and 23, ❤️
13. First thing you're doing in the purge?
Oh gosh this is literally like the one I have NEVER thought about. 🤔🤔 After this week probably burn Wall Street to the ground and dance in the ashes 💰🔥😈🕺
23. Do you wear jewelry?
I do! I have three silver rings that I always wear: one's a claddagh, one's a class ring and one is literally a piece of costume jewelry that i found in my great grandmother's things after she died but it looks legit and I like it.
I usually always have a necklace on, too-- lately either a Sicilian trinacria or a St. Theresa of Avila medal in memory of my ma.
I have pierced ears but most days am too damn lazy to coordinate an earring choice. And I hate wearing studs, so it's usually nada.
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