Okay so I haven’t been on here in forever, but I’m alive and much has changed since I’ve posted regularly. I struggle with BPD pretty badly and pretty much do what I can to handle it from day to day, and most days it’s harder than others. I just want you all to know that you are valid and beautiful and I think of you all often <3
god i’m not even through one episode of paranormal home inspectors and it rules, this lady thought she was being haunted by the wails of the restless dead but she was just listening to raccoons fuck in her attic
#alexandria48bc Part 9 (All parts available to read under the tag #alexandria48bc!)
Voice of God: The minds of demons, angels, and humans are all of the same stock. They are prone to dwell on thoughts beings of any kind would rather not have.
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Aziraphale sits in a bright, quiet garden. He’s surrounded on all sides by flowers of every size and color and variety, and he’s curled up in a great armchair with a stack of books. Bees buzz lazily around his head, and butterflies curiously explore the volumes at his feet. It’s not the garden of Eden. No, it’s somewhere on Earth.
Crowley appears around a blooming bush. He’s holding a mug of cocoa, which smells divine, mixed with the fragrance of the flowers, and he lets his hand linger long and slow on Aziraphale’s as he gives it. Aziraphale tilts up his face, and Crowley bends down to kiss him, lightly, unhurriedly, like he has all the time he wants. Then he retreats, saying something about making lunch, and Aziraphale smiles at him as he saunters away.
He sips his cocoa and sighs. Here is a man at peace.