If I’m a Saint, Then You’re Heaven

Summary: Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.
Word Count: 11,068
Warnings: Lots of religious talk, homophobia, physical fight, smut
A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this because I was tired of people writing a religious fic where Phil continuously tries to get Dan to sin. So this came out, where they both respect each other despite their religious differences (With a dash of sex at the end). If you’re uncomfortable reading smut then no worries! It’s easy to tell when they’re going to get it on and it ends at the ’-’ and is very close to the end (: Lastly, special thanks to @insanityplaysfics for betaing this for me and giving me this entire idea! Also thank you @phandommother for helping me out with the idea as well and listening to me rant about it :’)
Title Creds: Cement - Citizen
Read it on AO3


Phil didn’t know why he decided to take the class. None of his friends were taking it and it honestly seemed like a lot of shit that Phil didn’t particularly care about, shit that didn’t really help him with his future career in any way. It seemed like a class that had a lot of reading, reading that Phil would probably never do, and let’s be honest, he probably only took the class because it had the word ‘sex’ in the title.

He walked into his Sex in the Bible class five minutes late on his first day.

The teacher didn’t bat an eye. Heads didn’t turn to look at him. Phil just sauntered in and stood at the back of the lecture room with his backpack slung over one shoulder while he scanned the room for a seat. Sometimes he forgot just how uncaring everyone was in university. He could just walk in ten to twenty minutes late and nobody would give a shit. Especially not in a class where there were over one hundred students.

(He didn’t understand why there were so many students in Sex in the Bible. They probably also just took the class because of the word ‘sex’).

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Once upon a time in october I was sitting in class and thought aloud “I feel like animating a dumb dog” and from the other side of the room @marietouly rose screaming “LET ME DESIGN IT !!! I WANT TO DESIGN THE DOG !!!”

and well while the rough animation went quite smoothly the assisting and preclean was another problem altogether ! I also don’t know if I’ll have enough faith to finish the clean and color it, so in the meanwhile I suppose this is clean enough to share !

I’ve been telling this story a lot lately so I figured I might as well tell it here and let the tens of people who read this blog enjoy it.

About seventeen years ago, my Gran had a miniature schnauzer called Marlon.

Gran had never owned a dog before and had no idea how to train one, and schnauzers are definitely not for beginners. But Marlon was actually pretty inert, for a schnauzer. His only problem was he was constantly trying to eat random shit on his walks. Gran couldn’t really make him stop so she didn’t bother intervening unless he tried to eat something dangerous like a bottle cap or nails.

So that was Gran and Marlon’s life for a few years - he’d be a reasonably good boy most of the time except when he’d snarf down bird shit all over the neighbourhood.

Until one day Marlon threw up in the kitchen and Gran noticed a bunch of cigarette butts in it. Realizing this walking buffet problem probably needed to stop, she asked the dog trainer at the pet shop what she should do and they sold her a head harness with a gentle muzzle for walks. Gran thought the problem was solved.

Only it wasn’t.

After a few days, Marlon changed. He developed a bunch of problems he’d never had before - he was testy, he was snapping, he stole food and got into the rubbish, he tore up pillows, he howled. Gran brought him to the vet, worried about the change in personality. When she told him about the recently resolved snarfing problem, the vet put the pieces together.

“He’s going through nicotine withdrawal,” the vet said.

It turns out here’s enough tobacco and other shit left on a standard cigarette butt that it only takes a handful of them to give an 18lb schnauzer a bit of a buzz. And because he was a terrier and fairly clever, Marlon realized that eating these things would give him funny feelings, so he started doing it all the time. Which led to a chemical dependence.

In the end, Gran had to get some nicotine patches and cut them into quarters. They shaved Marlon’s belly and stuck a patch on there once or twice a day to ease him off the nicotine. Oh, and he had to wear the Cone of Shame, too, because otherwise he’d chew the patches off.

Marlon was fine in the end. He lived another eight or nine years, but for the rest of his life he had to wear a muzzle while on walks.

But for a little while there, Gran had the angriest, most pissed off schnauzer on earth.

Moral of the story: don’t toss your cigarette butts wherever you want, and also don’t let your dog develop a cigarette habit.