The Modly Cock-Up Abject Apology Post
Jan. 10th, 2010 02:20 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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sailorptah, who created the beautiful art piece Each Other Now Embrace, somehow fell through the cracks and was giftless! We know there IS a gift, we're just looking into it.
Becausesailorptah won the BOOBY PRIZE of being the first person this has happened to in 5 years of the exchange, please help us make it up to her.
This post is for everyone to post stocking stuffers while we get it sorted out - art, drabbles, declarations of love, what have you. She likes A/C, genderswap, femslash, and all things funny.
sailorptah, who created the beautiful art piece Each Other Now Embrace, somehow fell through the cracks and was giftless! We know there IS a gift, we're just looking into it.Because
sailorptah won the BOOBY PRIZE of being the first person this has happened to in 5 years of the exchange, please help us make it up to her.This post is for everyone to post stocking stuffers while we get it sorted out - art, drabbles, declarations of love, what have you. She likes A/C, genderswap, femslash, and all things funny.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
A Carol :)
Date: 2010-01-10 10:02 pm (UTC)"Think of all the calories they must have burned in the rush," Famine said with relish, wiping a speck from her immaculate black dress.
"And all the waste that the Ghost of Christmas Present's dinner must have left!" Pollution grinned and littered the floor with yet another chocolate wrapper. (The Advent calendar should have been empty days ago, but somehow there always seemed to be another piece hiding behind an odd flap.)
War picked his fingernails with his axe, and ignored the whole show. The Christmas season, with its hideous theme of "goodwill towards men," was perhaps his least favorite time of year. And the harsh weather made a man grateful to have a beard.
Aziraphale and Crowley, however, were ignoring the scene for an entirely different reason. It had been a long year, after all, but here they were, together.
Aziraphale ran her fingers through Crowley's sleek black hair before letting her hand settle at Crowley's hip. Crowley shivered in enjoyment; she looked up to the lintel, gave a small, serpentine smile, and leaned in to kiss Aziraphale.
And above them, DEATH, with the mistletoe clutched between his teeth, rolled his depthless eyes and said--
"SHOMEONE BLESHH USHH, EVERYONE."
Re: A Carol :)
Date: 2010-01-11 06:38 am (UTC)Talking of booby prizes...
Date: 2010-01-10 10:21 pm (UTC)---
"See, angel, I find this more than a little offensive..." Crowley's voice had taken on that particular hissing tone that he thought sounded dangerous, but that Aziraphale found somewhat endearing. At those times he was in the mood to enjoy patronising heavenly superiority, anyway. Right now he was feeling rather to stressed for that.
"They were what was in the attic, dear," Aziraphale said, making shoo-shoo hand gestures at him. "Surely we have worse problems at the moment?"
Crowley apparently didn't think so. He crossed his arms petulantly over his chest and kept on blocking the doorway. (Aziraphale noticed with some envy that Crowley could actually still do that.) "You could have worn some of your normal ones!"
Aziraphale went for what he hoped was a reasonable tone. "They did not fit anymore. In fact nothing fits anymore. Along with our apparent loss of powers, there seems to have been a certain... rearrangement of, well, body mass taking place." He tugged at his sea-green-and-old-rose cardigan. It was lucky the previous owner of this place had had fairly decent taste at least -- and a sufficiently curvaceous figure. After all, it was not like had needed anything to wear the last time he had... made an effort in the other direction, so to speak. Not that there had been effort involved this time. Or even intention. "I observe you have had no such problems..."
Crowley was in fact still wearing his usual immaculate black suit, even though it now looked ready-made rather than the expensive peace of tailoring it was. His lean frame had borne the transition somewhat more forgivingly, it seemed. Aziraphale had hoped the favourable comparison would at least get a smug smile out of the demon, but no such luck.
"Still," Crowley insisted. "It's just not right, angel. Tactless's what it is!"
"Please, dear, it's not like it picked them!" Or killed them by hand. "They are probably fake anyway. Now, let us please get to Lower Tadfield as quickly as possible -- the situation as it stands is untenable!"
Crowley, with a last stern yellow look over the rims of his sunglasses finally turned and stalked towards the Bentley, muttering under his breath all the while.
Aziraphale heaved a sigh of relief -- the sooner they got to Adam the sooner the current predicament would be ended -- and followed (very, very carefully) down the stairs on his too-high-heeled-for-comfort snakeskin pumps.
Re: Talking of booby prizes...
Date: 2010-01-11 06:40 am (UTC)As far as I'm concerned, Adam can leave them that way as long as he wants. Sea-green-and-rose cardigans and all :D
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-10 10:55 pm (UTC)Sorry that you haven't received your official gift yet, but thanks for your lovely contribution to the exchange!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-11 06:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-11 08:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-11 09:32 pm (UTC)Re: I'm sorry :S
Date: 2010-01-11 06:44 am (UTC)It's always lovely when Aziraphale out-kinks Crowley - whether she means to or not :3
Re: I'm sorry :S
Date: 2010-01-20 09:47 am (UTC)Re: I'm sorry :S
Date: 2010-05-25 02:26 pm (UTC)Well, that and consider the different kinds of attention both would get at certain periods of time -- one of those was, historically, not quite as liable to get noncon.
Though...imagine the slashy fun to be had in pre-Arrangement times with Crowley trying to protect Aziraphale, who is at this point unaware that he's attracting all sorts of lust, purely on the "MINE (to corrupt, no, seriously, stop laughing)" basis. Given his appearance in the novel, this probably was an ultimately doomed effort, but hurt/comfort is nice, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-07 11:16 pm (UTC)Crowley hadn't the foggiest idea which side had invented beauty pageants. The catty veterans who bullied the younger models and demanded everything of the world strongly suggested Hell, but every terminally ill cancer patient or genuinely beautiful and sweet young woman suggested Heaven. Either way, it wasn't this demon's scene.
Aziraphale, however, could not have been happier. "There you are, dear," she fluted as Miss Rhode Island examined the hem of her dress.
"You're a wonder, Miss Fell!" The blue-eyed brunette gushed as she twirled for practice. "It floats like a cloud!"
"Mrs. Fell, dear, and you're welcome. Now, be sure to keep that collar starched. We wouldn't want it falling down on the job, now would we?" She smiled as the smallest state adamantly agreed and danced off to makeup and tried to keep it on when her next candidate arrived. "Hallo, Miss New Jersey. How are we?"
"Like, I don't have time for this," snapped the yam with black fuzz on top who was currently masquerading as a girl*. "Get moving."
Reminding herself under her breath that it would be unseemly to accidentally prick the model with a pin, Aziraphale went to work. Miss New Jersey glanced at her, for once actually bothering to look at someone else. "Like, what's that thing around your neck?"
"Oh, this?" Aziraphale touched her necklace. "It's jade. I bought it when I visited China a few years ago."
"It's so ugly; you should throw it out, along with that tartan suit you're wearing. That is like, so, fifties anyway."
Much to the surprise of Miss New Jersey, the necklace moved, drawing attention to the design of a snake eating its own tail. After adjusting itself, it lifted its head. "Buggerrrr offff," it hissed, glaring and showing its fangs as the rubies that were its eyes gleamed. The model screamed and ran off, leaving a small orange trail of tanning spray behind her.
Not bothered, the woman watched her go. "Pity. I hadn't finished her hem yet." Her matronly smile turned into something of a smirk as she regarded the her assistant and she lowered her voice. "Not having much fun, are you, dear boy?"
"It'sssssss sssssso hot in herrrre," hissed the incognito snake. "You'llllll owe me big for thissssssss onnne, angel."
*Among the Bhudu of New Guinea, women like this were highly prized. They would be destined for the fate of chosen women when their disposition began to show at age thirteen. The reason was that the Bhudu communicated only through sign language and when the young questioned the idea of silence, the elders would confine them to the hut of these women for a week** and once was generally enough to convince them.
**Most of them would have to be carried out on stretchers.