The Hand Is What Fucked Me Up. Its Just Such A Small Thing, But Such A Loud Detail. Crowley Pulls Him

The hand is what fucked me up. It’s just such a small thing, but such a loud detail. Crowley pulls him in, kisses him deep, and desperate, and anguished, and longing, and Aziraphale flounders. His hand quivers and moves without any idea what he’s supposed to do; he’s at a loss. He’s shocked, and confused, and the whiplash of going from trying to convince Crowley he’s gotten them everything they could ever want, to this. To everything he doesn’t know how deal with, and never expected. And yet. His hand stops. He plants it firm on Crowley’s back, and for just a moment, he presses into to kiss too. He know this is what he wants; he can feel it. That instant is everything, yet somehow it meant nothing, because it was only a terribly fleeting moment inside a terribly fleeting moment.

Feeling good. Might just do things. But also maybe not, who knows.

Currently giving into the desire to write about cannibalism and abuse

And that’s how I knew this season was going to make me mentally unwell-

Feeling goreny.

Recently discovered that coffee makes me normal

But only sometimes.

Like 40% of the time.

And when it works

My brain gets weird

So much more distractable

But like I’m doing this and moving around so-

Also I think it makes me sleep better??

And do a lot more hand shakes…

Is this how coffee is supposed to work