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New chapter (we're up to chap 4 now!) of Mystery Jizz (fun little huge cosy-trauma-close-proximity-only-one-bed-chased-by-wolves story that my brain can't stop being obsessed with.) I'm trying not to spam all the things so only blogging chapters on here occasionally.
Linky link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64981189/chapters/167057857
Rating: E (for eventually)
Summary: Aziraphale is looking forward to a bit of peace and quiet at a countryside getaway, until an irritating stranger arrives. And then it all goes to shit.
CW/TW: Check tags - usual dose of angst and trauma, but nothing specific for this chapter.
Excerpt: For a few long minutes there is nothing but the sound of their breathing, slowly returning to normal—or something like it. Aziraphale’s airways feel abraded and tender. He doubts their race through the woods has done much to help his cold. The hardwood of the door is cold and uncomfortable against his back, but he daren’t move yet.
“Can you hear anything?” he whispers. Crowley squeezes his hand—he is still holding it, and Aziraphale is terribly, silently grateful that the man hasn’t let go yet. Both of them sit quietly, listening, but the pulse of blood between Aziraphale’s ears seems to dull everything else.
“Nope. Wait—”
A billion thanks to glorious @paperclipninja for the superb cheering and beta effort, and thanks to @goodomensafterdark for being a fab bunch of goblins!
This is a post from The Home Depot Halloween Haunters Club. These are the Murderous Maples and a Deadwood Skeleton.
Continuing on with my 5 minute play/exploration paintings.
𝔇𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 ℑ 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢, 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢.
-𝔈𝔡𝔤𝔞𝔯 𝔄𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔫 𝔓𝔬𝔢
📷 taken by me 🤍
Boris Dolgov (1910-1958), Revolt of the Trees
(Weird Tales, January 1945)