#And i was 13 when the pandemic started

[autisticbiologistmess]

.

[dreamonminecraft]

the COVID time skip has fucked with my brain so hard I'm genuinely worried I'll never recover

[himblebo]

We as a society don’t talk about this enough

[asxgard]

Heartbeat | [1/3]

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x pregnant wife!doctor!f!reader

| Next

Summary: You get called in to assist with the mass casualty event on your day off and you’re grateful to be there when your husband finally breaks.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: episode 13 hurt a lot so I wrote this to cope. Likely will write more specific stuff after I’ve fully processed.

Word Count: 4.4k+

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: age gap (16ish years, I have a problem okay? The age gap trope feeds me), established relationship/marriage, hospital/medical inaccuracies, hurt/comfort, panic attack, foul language, angst (it’s who I am), gore/gun violence (Pittfest), vague details from ep. 11-13, pet names (baby, my love), non-graphic shower scene, fluff at the end because we deserve it after that episode???

not beta read

You had met Dr. Robinavitch when you started in the ED as an attending. While your love blossomed slowly, it bloomed into so much more than you were expecting. It had been a bit of a whirlwind, from dating secretly to Dana and Jack finding out only a month after, to getting engaged just a year later.

You had done what you could to keep it from the hospital administration, but the time came where you got married and paperwork needed to be filed. You kept your maiden name to ensure there was no confusion, plus it added to your privacy. Everyone you worked with knew you were married, just not to each other, but it was more of an open secret to some of the nurses and other attendings.

Gloria nearly moved you to a different department. She tried separating you by shifts, maybe hoping you would leave and find work in a different hospital. Michael was technically your boss, after all. In her reports, however, she found that when you two were on shift together, it was seamless. Like you two operated on a frequency that no one else was even aware of.

Despite the bumps in the road, and Michael’s aversion for talking about his feelings, you made it work. Some shifts could be frustrating, and that sometimes got carried home, but you respected each other immensely. Michael was not keen on letting such a good thing in his life go that easily, and eventually opened up about Adamson and the toll the pandemic had taken on him.

After that hurdle, everything else was easy. Eventually, you decided to grow your family, and you got pregnant not even five months later.

—

On the fourth year anniversary of Adamson’s death, you were surprised to find Michael preparing for a shift.

“Didn’t you take off?” You asked, watching him dress into his scrubs.

“Yeah,” he said, not looking at you. “Peterson had a family thing, and I know they’re short staffed.”

You frowned, “You could’ve asked me.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He said, turning to look at you and his heart swelled at the sight. “I don’t want you to cancel your appointment.”

You sat on that for a moment. For as busy as you both were, Michael had made time for every appointment you had after finding out you were pregnant.

“I know, I know. I promise I won’t miss the next one.”

That satisfied you. For all Michael was, someone to break his promise was not one of them.

“I was hoping to find out the gender today,” you said with a tiny smile. “But a little anticipation never hurt anyone.”

He looked grateful at your words, moving to kiss you. He tasted like mint, holding your head so gently in his hands. Your hands moved to his chest, wanting to hold him against you, but you released him.

“Jake know yet?”

He smiled, “Yeah. He asked to take his girlfriend instead.”

You raised an eyebrow and grinned, “Oh?”

You and Jake had gotten close slowly, him being like a step-son to Michael, but now you loved the kid.

“If you need anything, just call, alright?”

He nodded, grabbing his coffee, giving you one last lingering kiss before heading out the door.

—

Your day was mildly uneventful, taking your time with a handful of chores before sitting out on the balcony to have lunch. Your OB appointment had gone well, and you got a recording of the heartbeat, knowing Michael might need to hear it after his shift.

As time moved, you missed that Michael had not been able to be there with you. You missed his touch and his presence beside you. Dinner came with a takeout box of your latest craving, before your phone rang.

Jack Abbot’s name flashed on your screen. You still worked a few shifts with him from time-to-time, but Michael had you mostly scheduled for days, with him.

“Hey,” you said when you answered.

“Did you hear?”

“That’s so specific, Jack,” you said, opening the fridge to scan your snack options.

“There was a shooting at Pittfest, unknown number of casualties. Closest trauma center is PTMC.”

Your heart stuttered to a stop, “What?”

“Heard it on the scanner. You’ll likely get an alert that it’s all hands on deck, but I wanted to give you a heads up before traffic got too bad.”

Despite not being super close with Jack, you were still friends and you knew he had your back. While you hated being treated with careful hands at work now that you were pregnant, part of you still appreciated the gesture of it. It was like something unspoken had happened between Michael and Jack months ago, both of them moving to take the more combative patients whenever you were around.

“Shit, Jack.” You breathed out, rushing into your bedroom to grab your scrubs. “Fuck, Jake is at Pittfest. Let me try to reach him.” You fumbled through your drawers, taking a deep breath through your nose. “I’ll be in. See you soon.”

“Drive safe!” He said before the call disconnected.

After changing, you moved to grab a few odd snacks and water bottles, stuffing them into your lunch bag, along with your cell phone charger. Who knew how long this was going to take, or if Michael had had the chance at any point today to eat. He hadn’t texted or called, but that was not uncommon. The Pitt never made it easy, which was why you were grateful that you worked most of your shifts with your husband.

You tried reaching Jake, leaving a voicemail and a text message before reaching out to his mother. You briefly explained the situation and asked for an update as soon as she heard anything, before you promised the same.

When you got into your car, you took a deep breath to steady your heart before beginning your way to PTMC.

Michael called you, your phone ringing through the car’s Bluetooth.

“Hey, don’t have much time, but I need you.” He told you, his voice quiet but full of so much emotion.

“I’m already on my way. Abbot called ten minutes ago. Tried calling out to Jake, too, he didn’t answer. Told his mom to reach out to either of us if she heard anything.” You said in a rush, coming to a stop at a light. Almost there.

He let out a breath that almost sounded like relief.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The mass alert came through your phone as soon as he hung up. Thank fuck for Jack.

You made it into the parking garage, waving at the security guard now posted at the entrance. You sat in your car for just a minute to get your bearings, knowing tonight was going to be a shitshow.

As you entered the Emergency Department, you saw patients leaving, escorted by nurses and admin staff — and you moved quickly into the back. It was a circus, but you spotted Michael and Jack and beelined for them.

Michael’s brown eyes caught you as you approached and his face relaxed, though his shoulders were still tense. Dana was beside them, and her usual quip of “Oh I get Dr. R squared today?” did not fall from her lips, but she was sporting a black eye. You looked at her in alarm, but she waved it off.

“Just another happy customer.” She said, but you only frowned at her.

Michael spoke next, introducing you, and then quickly running down the new faces to you: Dr. Mel King, an R2, Dennis Whittaker, an M4, Victoria Javadi, an M3, and Dr. Trinity Santos, an intern. You tried to remember their names, but knew you would not likely remember them in the chaos.

You went to quickly put your stuff down, and when you turned around, Michael was standing there. To everyone else, he appeared neutral, controlled, normal. To you? He was wearing his shift all over his face and you could see plainly that it had not been a good one.

“This is going to be stressful, I should’ve let you stay home—”

While you appreciated his concern, you would have come anyway. “I promise, if I get too stressed out, I’ll let myself take a few minutes. But you have me. What can I do to help?”

“I need you in pink zone.” He told you, moving right back to business. “You’ll be with McKay and Javadi, and incoming night shift. But I need you at the head of it.”

“You got it.” You said, honored he was trusting you to run point on your zone.

—

While the victims did not stop coming, you found yourself moving mostly on instinct. Assessing, treating, moving along — trying to do your best to teach when you came across any of the new faces. You flitted into red zone when there was a particularly bad patient and then moved to triage so Dr. Shen could take a quick bathroom break.

When you assisted Michael, you moved together like a well oiled machine — and despite the tragedy, it came to you both naturally. You only barely registered the tension between Michael and Dr. Frank Langdon — a senior resident, and someone Michael had taken under his wing. You would have to remember to ask about it.

Time moved by in a blur, but you were painfully aware of every minute, every patient that came under your care. All the blood, all the death, all the tragedy.

It only got worse when Jake arrived, thought were thankful he was alive. He was asking about his girlfriend when you approached.

“Jake?” You got his attention as you began to take in his appearance. Jesus Christ, he was covered in blood.

“It’s mostly her blood,” he told you blankly, eyes moving around the room at the carnage. “It’s mostly her blood.”

You called for a wheelchair, your gaze searching for Michael. He was working on a patient, giving CPR from the look of it, the patient blocked from your view by the charge desk.

“Take a seat, Jake.” You told him softly, gently touching his shoulder. “Let me take a look at you, yeah?”

He sat down, his head swiveling around to locate his girlfriend. “I think—I think I got hit in the leg.”

You nodded, moving him into the yellow zone so you could bandage him up. You were not related and there were no official familial ties, so there were no problems of ethics — at least that was what you told yourself.

He moved to stand, and you pushed his shoulder back down.

“Let me assess you and then I promise I’ll go check on your girlfriend, okay?”

Jake nodded numbly and moved onto the gurney so you could look at his leg. His injury was not as bad as you had feared, and while you knew he would need stitches, you made do with some bandages for the time being.

“What’s her name?” You asked, trying to bring his attention back to you.

“Leah,” he told you, voice heavy with emotion. “I need to see her.”

While you did not understand the full panic he was experiencing, you knew Leah was in good hands.

“She’s with Robby, Jake. Leah is getting the best care.”

He was still not looking at you, and you got him set up with an IV antibiotic drip.

“Jake? Jake, can you call your mom for me? Cell service might not be great right now, but can you try? She’s worried about you.”

He took that information in slowly, before nodding.

The call did not go through, but you made him promise to keep trying while you assured him you were going to check on his girlfriend.

By the time you reached Michael, he was calling time of death and your heart constricted. You wanted to scream. By the look in his eyes, you can see he wanted to as well. You could feel Jack’s gaze on you and when you turned, he simply shook his head at you. You easily translated that to ‘your husband is not doing good’.

“I couldn’t save her.” Michael whispered, and only you caught it.

You gave his hand a subtle squeeze.

Jack was there then, reading the situation perfectly, “No one could have saved her. Maybe if this was a normal day, but it tore right through her heart. There was not much we could do.”

Fuck, you thought, she’s so young. You hoped she did not suffer.

Michael moved to find Jake and you followed him, but he stopped you.

“Can you take over for me in red so I can let Jake know?”

Every part of you screamed to go with him, but you nodded, turning to step back into pace with the work. You tried to push away your emotions, packaging them away to deal with later, but compartmentalizing was tough. You felt guilty for never meeting this girl, someone Jake had so obviously cared a lot about.

You attempted to get lost in the work, but you caught sight of Michael wheeling Jake out of Peds — the current place they have been putting the deceased — and the look on your husband’s face made your heart plummet. He had moved back into the room, leaving Jake just outside and you quickly gestured to a passing nurse to get him back to yellow.

The security guard did not make any comment when you walked into Peds, and you were devastated at what you found. Aside from the deceased, the number of them slowly ticking upwards, it was the sight of Michael on the floor in tears that truly struck you.

After ripping the curtain closed behind you, to block the view into the hall, and give you both just a small amount of privacy, you moved back toward Michael. It had been a long time since you had seen him like this. He had broken down when he told you about Adamson and the weight of his choice, and once he had even broken down after a particularly bad argument, but nothing like this.

“Baby, baby, hey,” you crouched down beside him, but you did not move to touch him.

His breath caught in his throat, but his sobs continued, hyperventilating with his arms pulled across his bent knees.

“Michael,” you tried, a name you had never called him when within the walls of the hospital.

His watery gaze met yours for just a moment, before his eyes were back in his lap, face scrunched. His ears were red, as well as his face, with red rimmed eyes that broke something in you.

“Michael.” You stressed again, moving so your hands hovered just above his arms. “Can you look at me?”

“I—I—I couldn’t—fuck—I didn’t save her.” His breaths came in short bursts, in in in out, in in out, tears coming down his face, his cheeks red.

You found yourself at a loss on how to help him — you knew none of his thoughts were rational at the moment, and anguish rushed through your veins, feeling so helpless. So useless.

An odd idea struck you, and you pulled out your phone before you could doubt yourself. You flipped through a few of your apps before settling on the one you had used to record your baby’s heartbeat.

“Can you take a deep breath with me?” You asked gently. You took a deep breath in through your nose and then out through your mouth.

You didn’t give him time to respond before you were pressing play on the recording. The sound of it filled the room with something other than Michael’s panic, and he quieted just enough to listen to it.

“That’s our baby.” You told him, though the sound of it was obvious enough, racing steadily like hoof beats.

His eyes found yours, and while he was still breathing quickly, he seemed to have returned to the reality around you, rather than stuck in his head. Relief took a bit of the weight from your shoulders.

“Can you breathe with me?” You asked again, finally touching his arm.

His hand found yours immediately and squeezed, but he nodded. You took a few more deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, watching as he mirrored you.

Aside from the quick beats of your baby’s heart, the deep breaths you both took filled the room. You desperately tried to ignore the dead around you, trying to solely focus on the man in front of you. When the recording came to a stop, Michael’s hand twitched toward your phone.

“Can you play it again?”

You nodded, pressing play and handing him your phone. The fast heartbeat filled the space again, and he cradled your phone like it was a lifeline. Maybe it was.

“Very active today.” You told him. “Wouldn’t sit still.”

A ghost of a smile passed over his lips, but it was gone in a moment.

“I have a video file that they sent me from today, but I didn’t want to look at it without you. Figured if either of us looked long enough, we’d be able to tell the gender ourselves.”

“Can we?” He asked, looking at you with tears still in his eyes.

You smiled, moving to sit next to him. You did not know how long the moment was going to last — sooner or later, someone was going to come looking for either of you. You tried to ignore it, trying to center yourself in this moment with Michael, forgetting about the outside world for just a moment.

Clicking on the video you had saved, you both sat quietly watching your baby move. Michael grabbed your hand in his and held it close to his chest. This was only going to be a bandaid, but any distraction was a welcomed one in that moment.

“They’re healthy. Measured 6.6 inches, 11 ounces.” You rattled off, moving your other hand to his head and running your nails along his scalp and through his hair. Any time in the past that he had had a panic attack in your company, you found that at the tail end of it, he enjoyed the feeling of your hands on him. Like it was grounding.

Michael’s hyperventilating had fully stopped, though a handful of tears still slipped through. His face was still scrunched in pain, but he watched the video attentively.

“You did all you could, my love,” you whispered. “No one could have saved her. Not even if it was all of us and just her. I’m so sorry.”

“Jake—”

You hushed him, “Jake is still in shock. He’s grieving. Whatever he said to you, he didn't mean it.”

“No, no, he does. I didn’t save her. I told him I would. I told him.”

You brought your lips to his temple, closing your eyes and willing no tears to come. You couldn’t, not now.

Michael tapped on the video again, watching as your baby moved, kicking against your womb like it was their job.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him, moving across the floor until you met his gaze. “I would never lie to you, you know that. I promise. If anyone could have saved her, it would have been you.”

His face scrunched again like he was going to cry.

You held him in your arms, squeezing him tight to your chest, hoping perhaps the more you squeezed, the more he would believe you.

You held his face in your hands, and willed him to look at you. “I love you so much, Michael. This was not your fault. Blame the shooter, they caused this whole thing. Jake will see that eventually, you haven’t lost him.”

Brown eyes held steady on yours, searching them with a gaze that nearly made you shy away. But you hold strong, wiping away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Robby! Robby!” Dana’s voice came through the curtain, before it was pushed aside.

Dana only blinked at the sight of you, you knelt in front of your husband, both of your faces twisted and pained.

You found your voice, “Just two minutes, Dana. Please.”

She only nodded, closing the curtain again and disappearing.

“I can’t promise the rest of this is going to be any easier, but,” You paused. “Fuck it, if you want to leave, we can blame me right now. Say I have high blood pressure and you want to make sure I get home safe. I don’t care. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

You remembered all the times he covered for you when your morning sickness made you late, or when he had taken time away from the hectic flow to talk you through a bad case, or a death. When he shouldered the weight of an abrasive family member or aggressive patient, even before you were married. The times he let you leave early when you were having a bad day, or encouraged you to take breaks even when he didn’t.

“Let me try to take care of you right now. Please. Whatever you need.”

Michael took a long breath, rubbing his eyes. “Let me just splash some water on my face. After…stay by my side?”

“Done. If you need a minute, tell me to take a break and come with me. I can shoulder that right now.”

You did not say it because you thought he was weak, but simply because you felt you had the capacity to bear the brunt of the remainder of this shift. People knew he was going to worry about you regardless of the situation, so him ‘checking in’ would not phase them.

“Michael,” you started as you both moved to stand, him offering a hand to help you, “You’ve always been so great with Jake, just give him some time.” You paused, “You’re going to be an amazing father to our child.”

Tears flooded his eyes again and you felt like you had just made it worse while trying to make it better.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. How on earth did I—”

You cupped his cheek and hushed him again, bringing his face to yours until your foreheads touched. “I’m the lucky one.”

He kissed you softly, before bringing you into a hug, careful of your growing bump.

When you parted, he took one last deep breath before facing the chaos that awaited you both out in the ED. You knew the heavier parts of your conversation were going to have to be shelved until you got home.

Michael moved toward the closest bathroom and you rushed back to red zone. There were no words to exchange with Jack, but with a knowing glance at him, he seemed to understand.

“Robby’s moving me to red. Bilal’s got pink covered.” You told him, referencing the night attending.

Abbot only nodded.

When Michael returned only a minute later, you watched him — had you not known him that well, you might not have been able to guess what had just transpired. You were thankful no one else in the hospital knew him as well as you did.

You got back to work, busying your hands to try to stop your mind from worrying too much. Whatever he had done in the bathroom, he had clearly thrown his panic attack into a bag and stuffed it deep inside his mind. It made your heart ache, but you would help him unpack it once you were both in the safety of your home.

Michael still made sound decisions, and not once did you feel the need to question his judgement. Jack was steadfast with you both, and you were grateful for him.

—

It was 10pm by the time the dust began to settle and the situation finally simmered to a more controllable level. You were beat and you had only been there a few hours, Michael encouraging you to take a seat and have some water while he checked on a handful of things. You took that moment to find Jake — who now had been stitched up and was with his mom.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I really wish I could have met her.”

He nodded numbly, “You would’ve really liked her.”

A sad smile formed on your lips, “I’m sure I would have.”

You wanted to tell him to go easy on Robby, but the words did not form on your tongue. It was still too soon, and while you did not want Jake to blame him, you knew it wasn’t the time or place.

You parted from them sadly, before going to check on the med students and finally finding Michael with Jack.

It was a half hour later that you both finally left, Michael following you silently to your car. You were still digesting it all, wondering how the hell you were even going to begin processing it.

At home, you both quickly discarded your scrubs to the floor and made your way to the bathroom. It went unsaid that you both needed to wash this shift off, more so mentally than physically, but being clean would certainly make you feel better.

It was amazing how well you had learned to read each other, and you held onto him under the warm water for a long moment. He kissed the side of your head before grabbing the soap, sudsing up his hands and gently cleaning your skin. You relished in the feeling of him.

Once you rinsed off, you returned the favor. You moved your hands over his arms, his chest and then his back. You added a kiss here and there, knowing he enjoyed your touch just as much. He held your belly in his hands, eyes faraway again — but you brought your hand to his face to get his attention.

You kissed him, holding onto him and trying to translate all the things you felt into it. He returned the kiss and you felt yourself sigh in contentment.

It was quiet, but cathartic.

You both dried off, and changed before collapsing into your bed, Michael immediately pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest to listen to the calming sound of his heart.

Moving off his chest, you pulled him close to you and let him rest his head on you, his hand going to your belly. His breathing was slow and controlled, but you knew his mind was racing. You held him tight, your fingers going to his hair.

“I’d like to talk about today.” You said. “Not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow, or this week. But eventually.”

He was quiet, fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes on your stomach. “We can do that.”

“I’m here when you’re ready.” You told him.

He moved to press his lips to yours, peppering your face with kisses, before bringing you back to his chest. He held you for a long time and you did not even dare let go.

“I saw what it was.” He said.

“Oh?” You questioned against his chest, leaning your head back to look at him.

“Our baby.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

He grinned and kissed you deeply. Truth was, it didn’t matter. And as you held each other, you knew it was all going to be okay.

[ Next ]

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready

I need to give him a hug

[homunculus-argument]

I've decided that the best way to cope with the passage of time is to simply ignore it. it does not touch me, it merely flows past. I am ageless, unchanging. Kids who were 13 when the pandemic started are turning 18 next year. So what? I've been mentally 13 since before they were born and I still will be when they turn 30.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Stuck Here Like Me

Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader

Summary: in the wake of the chaos, you’re there to pick up his broken pieces. Takes place during 1x13 so spoilers if you haven’t seen it yet

Warnings: depiction of explicit themes, death, grief, panic attacks, blood, hospital stuff, ptsd, age gap (reader is 35, Robby is 50) (no smut but yall better love it)

WC: 4.3k Drabble who?

A/N: omg no smutties??? Who possessed me??? Okay well there is smutties, this just isn’t it. I mentioned before that I started writing smutties based on ep 12 but when 13 came out I just had to write a comfort fic. God this man needs to be held and loved so I couldn’t help myself. The smutties based on ep 12 is still on the works. So think of it as an alternative ending to this one. I started writing this last night after I finished ep13 and i cant believe I finished it so fast. Hope you enjoy being traumatized give Noah his Emmy btw

Staying away from the chaos of the ER was the plan for today. As far away as you possibly could. You did this on purpose. Neither of you had worked on this day in years. You didn’t mind that Robby had made other plans. You were even happy that he was keeping his mind occupied with Jake. You would happily stay home and catch up on some well deserved sleep. Ever since you convinced Gloria to give you that pediatric emergency medicine fellowship, you had been doing overtime almost every single shift. You left at the same time as Robby every night, and that was saying a lot.

So when you felt movement beside you, your husband shifting as quietly as possible, you were very suspicious. You stirred and grumbled almost immediately. Much to his attempt of getting out of bed without waking you.

“Michael.” You muttered into your pillow, blindly reaching for your phone beside you. He gritted his teeth, turning his head to find you squinting at your phone. “Why are you getting up at six on your day off?”

“Ah, busted.” You felt his weight sink into the bed as he leaned over you to leave a kiss to your hair. “They’re down an attending this morning. And you know we’re short staffed so.”

You scrunched up your face, huffing softly as you shifted on your back. You gave him a look of apprehension and he leaned down to kiss the expression lines on your forehead.

“Today? Really?” The sleep lingered on your voice as you rubbed your eyes softly. He clicked his tongue but said nothing. You weren’t shy about it. You were an R2 when the pandemic broke out. How you managed to start, and maintain a functioning relationship was still beyond you. Though you guessed you understood each other’s he trauma. And your marriage has been without issues so far, so you guessed it worked out. Still, you weren’t beneath bringing it up, even if he didn’t quite enjoy it. “Michael I really don’t think—“

“It’s fine. I’m fine, really.” He was firm with his words, loving, but firm, like he didn’t want to press the matter further. A sigh of resignation left your chest and you shrugged, shaking your head at him.

“Mkay. Want me to come in with you?” You sighed, stretching out your arms with exhaustion. Robby narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head.

“Nope. You’ve been working what? Thirteen? Fourteen hours straight? Absolutely not. Sleep while you can. You’re going to burn yourself out.” You hated when he lectured you, the age gap between you sometimes becoming painfully obvious. You groaned with annoyance and squeezed your eyes shut. You hated when he was right.

“Fine, whatever.” You pretended to pout, which he found quite amusing. With a soft chuckle he leaned down to press a kiss to your pouty lips. You couldn’t help but giggle. “I swear Gloria is still punishing me for hexing you with my charms. She couldn’t get rid of me so she’s making me suffer.”

“Aren’t you doing overtime willingly?” He tisked at you as he peeled himself from you to finish putting on his scrubs. He knew that if he didn’t leave your side soon he would forget he has actual responsibilities to attend to.

You scoffed at him, shifting to your side again, “I’m being coerced. She insists that my fellowship is an unnecessary expense and that if it hadn’t been for your favoritism I would’ve had to transfer hospitals.”

“It wasn’t favoritism. I was completely objective and unbiased. You really are one of my best doctors.” He reminded you and you laughed into your pillow.

“She doesn’t seem to agree. She makes sure to remind me every time she sees me.” You rolled your eyes, disdain lacing your tongue. Robby found it almost amusing how you didn’t even try to hide your opinions. He always had to hold back a laugh whenever you gave Gloria side eyes when she came strolling down to the ER to get on his case about one thing or another.

“Yeah, well, she’s a pain in my ass too. Don’t take it too personally.”

“I’ll make you coffee and something to eat, hm?” You suggested, figuring you would spend as much time with him as you could before you didn’t see him for the next twelve-plus hours. He shot you an apprehensive glance, eyes narrowed but you were already throwing the blankets off you. “I’m already up. I’ll take a nap when you leave.”

Robby chewed on the inside of his cheek, clicking his tongue as his eyes followed you out of bed. His eyes never left you, more than happy to be reminded that you were parading around in nothing but an old tee and panties. He followed you out of the bedroom with eagerness, more than happy to follow you around until he left.

“Shit, my sweet and amazing wife is making me coffee this morning? And she’s making sure I eat? Aren’t I lucky.” He chuckled, following you to the kitchen. Your giggles filled the air and he was so in love with the sound it made his head spin.

“Don’t forget hot and young too.” You looked over your shoulder and shot him a wink, snorting at the groan he let out at your teasing words. If you had to be reminded that he was older, he had to be reminded that you were younger, too.

“God, I hope you don’t say that shit to other people. Makes me sound like such a creep.” He sighed out, his freckled cheeks dusting red with embarrassment. You loved to tease him about it. Even though you were already thirty when you started dating. You found it amusing how worked up he got about the logistics. You knew it fucked him up for months when you first slept together.

“If it makes you feel better, I tell people I wanted to fuck my attending.” You managed to hold in your laughter until after your words sunk in, you had your back to him as you made him his coffee, but when you heard him mutter ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ behind you, you bursted into giggles. “You love me. Oh! Can you get me the strawberries and blueberries from the fridge? And the Greek yogurt.”

“Yes I do, unfortunately.” He sighed out a long exaggerated breath as he searched around the fridge. You shoot him a glare, which he took with a chuckle.

“Okay, well, you can starve then. I’m not making you shit.” You clicked your tongue, huffing as you crossed your arms over your chest. Robby pouted, trying to stifle a laugh at the matching pout on your lips.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He said in between laughs as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him and he left kisses on your cheek, on your nose, until you broke a smile and giggles left your lips. “You have such a shitty poker face.”

“I do. I can’t resist your old man charms.” You teased, throwing your arms around his neck. He rolled his eyes at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, successfully shutting you right up. You didn’t protest, you were in fact, very pleased with this exchange. God, you wished he would stay home with you. You didn’t want him to go. You were tempted to jump him right then and there. If you pushed him enough he really couldn’t say no to you even if he tried. But you also knew better. So against your better judgement you relented.

“I really have to go hun.” His words left his chest with an edge, his fingers slightly digging into your hips. You slightly threw your head back, grabbing his face as you whined. “Cmon, don’t do that.”

“I really can’t convince you to stay, hm? You’ll have me all to yourself today.” Your words left your lips softly, quietly. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head, his jaw ticking with each string you pulled.

“I’m gonna think with my head and regrettably say no.” An uneven breath left him, much to his dismay. Your offer was so fucking tempting. But he knew better, he definitely wouldn’t hear the end of it if he ended up not showing up.

“Ugh, I like your other head better.” You gave him one last jab to his sanity before you pulled yourself away to resume your previous task. You heard him groan loudly as he reached for his freshly brewed coffee.

“God, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Though there was a smile on his face, those soft brown eyes filled with warmth, you knew him well, too well, and you knew there was more hiding behind those eyes, behind the same facade he put up every year. And that sat with you, you carried that worry like a burden, because you didn’t know what truly was going on in his head, what he was thinking. And it made you wish you could just lock him up until the day had passed. But alas, he wasn’t the type of man to hide. Exchanging I love you’s as he walked out the door left you with unease, with anxiety. And you couldn’t shake that feeling.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey love. Lemme guess, you’re staying late?” Your teasing words were laced with humor when you picked up the phone. You had managed to get through your day, though you definitely missed your husband. It was around six when he called.

“Yeah, something like that. Uh, fuck. I’m sorry to ask, but could you come in?” He rushed out his words, a sense of urgency edging through his tone even over the phone. The smile on your face quickly fell and you stilled, stammering over your words. “There’s an active shooter at PittFest and I’m down two residents. Please, you know I wouldn’t call if I didn’t have to.”

You were running to your bedroom for the first pair of scrubs you could grab before he was done talking. Your mind was racing with a million questions, but you didn’t have time to ask any of them.

“Fuck me. You really couldn’t stay home today, huh?” You blew out a breath of exasperation as you threw on pieces of clothing like a maniac. You were thankful you had decided to take a shower before getting started on dinner. Guess you would have to settle for takeout tonight, if you even left the hospital at all.

“I wish I had. Look on the bright side though, I missed you so much I had to find a way to get you here with me.” Though his words were playful, nothing about his tone was humorous in the slightest, there was so much edge to his voice it made your heart sink. As if he needed another thing to make today miserable. Today, out of all days, too.

“You could’ve just asked.”

You were on autopilot, walking to the hospital wasn’t even a conscious thought. You and Robby walked there every shift, it was just automatic. Though you were sure your feet walked just a bit faster than usual because you were walking through those doors and rushing downstairs before your brain could even process where your feet had taken you. You were met with the sight of just about the entire ER staff, day and night shift. Your heart pounded against your chest louder and louder by the second. You spotted Robby talking to Dr. Abbott. His eyes trailed in your direction and he could almost feel a sense of relief wash over him when he spotted you. It was automatic, his feet were taking you to him. He met you in the middle and he pulled you into his chest without hesitation.

“Michael.” You offered quietly, pressing the side of your face against his chest, happily accepting his embrace. You felt him press the cheek against the side of his head, a long sigh of relief leaving him.

“I really needed you. Thank you.” He muttered softly, only for your ears to hear. You nodded.

“You should’ve called me sooner. You’re down two residents?” You asked quietly, feeling the way he tensed under your touch at the question. He half nodded, another exasperated sigh leaving his heavy chest.

“Yeah. Collins wasn’t feeling well, so I sent her home, and I had to send Langdon home, too.” You could hear the slightest bit of edge in his voice at that last part. You frowned, pulling back to look at him with confusion.

“Why? What did he do?” You asked with a frown, having the feeling the reason had nothing to do with illness. His jaw tightened, his eyes drifting away from your gaze.

“You don’t want to know.” He shook his head dismissively, but his tone was anything but reassuring. You narrowed your eyes at him, not convinced by his answer. But he didn’t give you more than that. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

You didn’t want to push it, not right now at least, he had enough on his mind. You simply nodded at him, offering him a half smile as he walked you back to where everyone had gathered. You were met with some confused faces, but also welcoming glances of the familiar ones. You figured they were medical students or interns, since you didn’t recognize the new faces. What a day to be your first day, you thought.

“Okay, this is all hands on deck. That’s why I called for some help. For those of you who don’t know, this is one of our best doctors,” Robby looked at you as he introduced you. You felt almost embarrassed, faint heat rushing to your cheeks but you said nothing. “She’s our emergency pedes fellow, so if you need an attending and you can’t find me or Abbott, find her.”

You felt a bit awkward as Robby continued, now explaining the bracelet system and the colors for each area. You could still feel some confused and puzzled eyes on you every once in a while, but you otherwise ignored it. You figured there would be time for proper introductions later.

Robby and Abbott were done saying their final pieces before everyone dispersed in their own directions. You offered Robby a smile as he left to check on triage. This feeling of unease at the imminent doom that awaited you was making you sick, but you knew this is what you had to do. You eventually found Dana, and you were very distraught by the very evident brushing on her face.

“You didn’t have that last night. What happened to you?” You asked her, your tone alarmed, but you managed to keep your voice down. She sighed, like it was a long story that she had no desire to get into at this time.

“An unhappy patient decided to express how displeased he was with our care.” She states, her tone tired. Your eyes widened, your mouth falling open.

“A patient punched you? Are you fucking kidding?” You scoffed in disbelief and she simply nodded, too tired and burned out to do much more. You shook your head. “Maybe Gloria should fire me. Maybe she can hire better security with my salary.”

“Doubt it. She would find a way to claim we still don’t have the budget for it.” She blew out a humorless laugh, also shaking her head.

You opened your mouth to reply but stopped when you heard a string of voices speaking all at once, you knew it was time for the madness. And you had no idea just how much.

~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t know where your head was anymore. You were jumping from patient to patient like it was a marathon. You had managed to tune out most of the noise, focus on where your hands were. You were helping Langdon when you spotted Robby wheeling in a girl and your heart nearly stopped when you saw Jake following him. Robby hadn’t heard from him or his girlfriend since the shooting started and he was frantic, looking for him every time a new patient was wheeled in. He didn’t show it, but you could tell.

“You good here?” You asked Langdon, his panicked expression matching your own when he spotted Jake. He nodded, ushering you to go. You nearly ran across the other side to find Robby doing chest compression on a girl, and Jake was standing there, refusing to leave her side.

“Jake, hey, are you okay?” You asked him, checking him for any severe wounds, but he didn’t seem to be hurt, despite being covered in blood. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, his eyes glued to the girl on the gurney, you assumed this was the girlfriend Robby had told you took his ticket.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay, just my leg I think. But Leah is really hurt. Is she going to be okay?” He still wasn’t looking at you, not moving either. You gently grabbed his arm as you made eye contact with Robby. You knew that look. You half nodded, trying to usher Jake back. You hadn’t known him super long, his mom and Robby had already been split for a while by the time you came into the picture. But he thought you were cool and you found his relationship with Robby endearing.

“Robby is helping her right now, but you can’t be in here. You need to get that leg checked. I promise I’ll come find you.” You slowly pulled him back as you called for a wheelchair, he wasn’t budging, understandably not wanting to leave his girlfriend. “Jake, please. Robby’s got her but you need to get checked out.”

You managed to join Robby, and it did not look good. You made eye contact with Dana, and you did not like the look she gave you. You took in a deep breath, clearing your throat as you tried to find your voice.

“Where do you want me?”

“Switch with me.” Robby panted, quickly switching places with you. You resumed chest compressions, despite knowing where this would end. You couldn’t stop the bleeding, and you couldn’t transfuse blood fast enough. But you would keep going until he told you to stop. “Stop compressions. Check for carotid.”

You swallowed, pressing your fingers to her neck. You held your breath, perhaps holding yours would allow you to feel even the faintest beat. There was nothing. You sniffled softly and shook your head.

“I can’t feel the carotid.”

“No femoral either.”

You stopped keeping track of how long you were at it. You were at three bags of blood when you stopped compressions, and again you couldn’t feel anything. Robby shook his head.

“Robby.” You protested, knowing this was it. There was nothing else you could possibly do. There just wasn’t enough time. He shook his head again, the denial evident on his face. You exchanged knowing looks with Dana as Abbott spoke, but he couldn’t get through Robby either.

“Push one more bag of O neg, resume compressions.” He insisted, his voice breaking the slightest bit. A shaky breath left your lips and you hesitated for just a second, but you complied nonetheless.

“Abbott is right. The bullet probably tore right through the aorta. I still can’t get a pulse and we can’t give her another bag.” Your own voice was breaking, sweat starting to fall down your forehead and soak your hair. He shook his head at you, checking his own pulse to make sure the machine worked. “Michael—“

“I know, I know. Fuck, just, let me try this. Please. Hold compressions.” His voice was shaky, on the verge of breaking as he avoided your gaze. You breathed out shakily as you stopped and waited. You could hear abnormal beats, coming and going. And then nothing. There was nothing. Robby kept trying, his jaw tight and he squeezed his eyes shut as he desperately tried to find a pulse. Anything. There was nothing. Your eyes found Dana’s and she shook her head at you. Your eyes filled with tears when Robby shook his head. “We’re done.”

Your breath got caught in your chest as you held it, your own eyes fluttering shut as the realization finally dawned on you. When you opened them again your eyes landed on Robby and your heart sank. You swallowed, inhaling sharply before you spoke.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You asked quietly and he quickly shook his head, sniffling softly.

“No. I’ll go. Just.. Can you take her?” He looked at Dana. She nodded. You opened your mouth to speak again but he gave you no time. He was rushing down the hall as you were left with your mouth open, speechless and distraught. Seeing him like this, it reminded you of what today was. And that feeling made you so uneasy it made you nauseous.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You got pulled from patient to patient until your head started to spin. You didn’t even have time to notice Robby was gone. And nobody could find him. Those words made your stomach drop. You rushed to where Jake was, you found him still on his gurney, crying. You figured he knew.

“Jake…” You said softly, and he didn’t even bother to look at you. “Jake, I'm so sorry. We tried. We really did. But I need you to tell me where Robby is.”

Jake stayed silent for a long while, sniffling quietly, still not looking at you, “I dunno. He took me to see Leah then he kicked me out. He started, like crying and didn’t come back out.”

Your eyes widened, your breath picking up and your chest started to pound. “I promise I will come check on you but please, try to call your mom. She must be really worried.” You offered him a half smile, your lip quivering the slightest bit before you rushed to the pedes room. God this fucking room was cursed.

Your heart was not ready for the sight you would find. You were frantic as you opened the door and you found your loving husband, the love of your life, in a corner with his hands behind his head, shaking. You choked on your own breath as you grabbed the curtain and covered the door before you dropped to your knees in front of your husband. Your own eyes filled with tears at the sight of him like this. It was like he didn’t even process that you were here, he was hyperventilating, choking back sobs into his arms.

“Hey, Michael. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” You held back your own tears as you reached to grab his face. He wouldn’t stop, he was sobbing and crying like you had never seen him do. You didn’t know what to do, you had never seen him break down like this. Your own tears had started to fall without even knowing. But you kept talking to him, you grabbed his face, “Michael, hey, you’re okay. I’m here with you. I’m here baby.”

“Did… Did I ever tell you you have the prettiest freckles? They go so well with your eyes. You have the kindest, softest eyes. I’ve been in love with them ever since I met you. I knew that you were it, I knew I wanted to be with you, all the time.” You didn’t know what you were saying, or when you started to cry, too, but you continued, “I’m right here with you, okay? At your lowest, remember, like in our vows? I got you, I promise.”

You didn’t know what clicked in his head, or what wall fell down in his fragmented mind, but he reached for you, a broken sob leaving him as he found refuge in the comfort of your arms. He sobbed into your shoulder and you held him, cradling his head as you shushed him softly, choking back your own tears.

“It’s okay to cry, you know? You can cry. It’s okay. Just breathe with me.” You spoke quietly into his ear, pressing a kiss to his hair. He held you tighter.

“I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save any of them.” He sniffled into your shoulder, his voice hoarse from emotion. It shattered your heart to hear him like this. You would give absolutely anything to make sure he never felt like this.

“I know.. I know. And I can’t make it hurt less, I wish I could. But it’s okay to grieve and feel like this. Sometimes we need to feel it.” You said softly, breathing softly, each breath you took was slow and steady until his own breath matched yours. You held him there, you let him cry until he couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how long he had been holding this in. Years of grief bottled up until he couldn’t take it anymore. “You have saved so many lives. So many people look up to you. I look up to you. And I know you have lost a lot, and that feeling will never go away. But the good you have done doesn’t go away either.”

You lost track of how long you stayed like this. But you didn’t care how long it took. You held him for as long as he needed. You said nothing more as he cried quietly into your shoulder, until he stopped and all that was there was his tight grip on you and his steady breaths in your ear. When he was ready you gently grabbed his face and offered him a sad smile. He closed his eyes as he leaned into your touch, a shaky breath leaving his lips as you gently wiped his cheeks. He opened his eyes to find yours. And as he looked at you, you felt so much sadness seeing the eyes you were so in love with so full of pain. You held his face, your cold rings against his hot skin grounded him. You leaned your forehead against his and stayed just like that. You said nothing. He said nothing. You had nothing to say. You needed this silence. Words weren’t necessary, only grief and sadness was present and that was okay. You would be here to pick up his broken pieces when he was ready.

[reasonsforhope]

Double dose of articles about how crime is actually plummeting

From the UK:

"Seventy-eight per cent of people in England and Wales think that crime has gone up in the last few years, according to the latest survey. But the data on actual crime shows the exact opposite.

As of 2024, violence, burglary and car crime have been declining for 30 years and by close to 90%, according to the Crime Survey for England and Wales (CSEW) – our best indicator of true crime levels. Unlike police data, the CSEW is not subject to variations in reporting and recording.

The drop in violence includes domestic violence and other violence against women. Anti-social behaviour has similarly declined. While increased fraud and computer misuse now make up half of crime, this mainly reflects how far the rates of other crimes have fallen.

All high-income countries have experienced similar trends, and there is scientific consensus that the decline in crime is a real phenomenon.

The perception gap

So why is there such a gulf between public perception and the reality of crime trends? A regular YouGov poll asks respondents for their top three concerns from a broad set of issues. Concern about crime went from a low in 2016 (when people were more concerned with Brexit), quadrupled by 2019 and plummeted during the pandemic when people had other worries. But in the last year, the public’s concern about crime has risen again.

There are many possible explanations for this, of which the first is poor information. A study published in 1998 found that “people who watch a lot of television or who read a lot of newspapers will be exposed to a steady diet of crime stories” that does not reflect official statistics.

The old news media adage “if it bleeds, it leads” reflects how violent news stories, including crime increases and serious crimes, capture public attention. Knife crime grabs headlines in the UK, but our shock at individual incidents is testament to their rarity and our relative success in controlling violence – many gun crimes do not make the news in the US.

Most recent terrorist attacks in the UK have featured knives (plus a thwarted Liverpool bomber), but there is little discussion of how this indicates that measures to restrict guns and bomb-making resources are effective."

-via The Conversation, May 13, 2024

And the United States:

"[The United States experienced a spike in crime rates in 2020, during the pandemic.] But in 2023, crime in America looked very different.

"At some point in 2022 — at the end of 2022 or through 2023 — there was just a tipping point where violence started to fall and it just continued to fall," said Jeff Asher, a crime analyst and co-founder of AH Datalytics.

In cities big and small, from both coasts, violence has dropped.

"The national picture shows that murder is falling. We have data from over 200 cities showing a 12.2% decline ... in 2023 relative to 2022," Asher said, citing his own analysis of public data. He found instances of rape, robbery and aggravated assault were all down too.

Yet when you ask people about crime in the country, the perception is it's getting a lot worse.

A Gallup poll released in November found 77% of Americans believed there was more crime in the country than the year before. And 63% felt there was either a "very" or "extremely" serious crime problem — the highest in the poll's history going back to 2000.

So what's going on?

What the cities are seeing

What you see depends a lot on what you're looking at, according to Asher.

"There's never been a news story that said, 'There were no robberies yesterday, nobody really shoplifted at Walgreens,'" he said.

"Especially with murder, there's no doubt that it is falling at [a] really fast pace right now. And the only way that I find to discuss it with people is to talk about what the data says." ...

For cities like San Francisco, Baltimore and Minneapolis, there may be different factors at play [in crime declining]. And in some instances, it comes as the number of police officers declines too.

Baltimore police are chronically short of their recruitment goal, and as of last September had more than 750 vacant positions, according to a state audit report...

In Minneapolis, police staffing has plummeted. According to the Star Tribune, there are about 560 active officers — down from nearly 900 in 2019. Mannix said the 2020 police killing of George Floyd resulted in an unprecedented exodus from the department...

In Minneapolis, the city is putting more financial resources into nontraditional policing initiatives. The Department of Neighborhood Safety, which addresses violence through a public health lens, received $22 million in the 2024 budget."

-via NPR, February 12, 2024

[crosbyism]

"but then again this is the guy who’s publically known for loving to eat ass so"

I'm sorry, I thought Nate eating ass was fanon. Are you telling me this is an actual canon fact??

god i love when people don’t realise how much “fanon” around sid and nate is actually canon. it’s like heroin to me. also bc it’s like. 90% of the stuff in fics (which is probably why people assume it’s fanon but. oh boy it’s not. there’s shockingly little fanon around these two, mostly because canon is so abundant).

yes, nathan mackinnon is a known ass-eater. let me direct you to this post, anon. you’re welcome.

other nate (and sid) facts you might not have realised are canon:

nate is a known advocate for therapy. he’s been seeing a sports therapist since 2017

they wear matching clothing all the fucking time, sid has said publicly that he started wearing white sneakers and updated his wardrobe due to nate’s influence (iirc nate might’ve even bought him his first pair of white sneakers? either that or it was a “he told me i need to so i did” situation). they share a tailor. unfortunately i now have to bring your attention to the fact that since they have an alarming amount of matching clothes that they’ve bought for each other, that means that they in fact have to know each other’s clothing sizes off by heart. they also low-key share clothing btw

their families celebrate canada day together and their dads are best friends. in-law behaviour goes crazy

nate did in fact stalk his way into sid’s heart (got the same personal trainer and agent at age 13; built his house next door in 2017; they’ve been spending every day in the summers together since at least 2015. sid cooks for them daily, or at least did pre-pandemic. sid refuses to use nate’s gym tho so they always use sid’s).

nate used to have a fan twitter account more or less where he rooted for the pens. it was active until 2017.

sid and nate regularly go to summer weddings together as each other’s dates. they have done this since, once again, at least 2015

nate has confirmed that he used to have a poster of sid on his wall as a teenager (he didn’t confirm he used to jerk off to it but frankly. i think that’d be saying the quiet part out loud)

when sid won the cup in 2009 and held the parade in cole harbour, nate stood by the side of the road watching it. he was about to turn 14, he was already working with sid’s trainer and agent, and he was about to start attending shattuck (sid’s junior high). due to old pics we also know that this was RIGHT before nate had his first growth spurt and hit puberty. i’m not saying seeing sid with the cup kickstarted nate’s puberty and gave him his first boner but i’m not NOT saying it

nate dated vanessa morgan of riverdale fame in his rookie year. she’s now good friends with elias petersson from the vancouver canucks (this means nothing but i do think it’s a very funny coincidence).

nate schmidt, formerly of the VGK, once failed a drug test (it turned out to be a testing-fuck-up); when nhl players were asked about it natemack iconically said “i don’t think he was sticking a needle up his ass” (i just like this one)

when he was a kid, the one other thing sid wanted to be was a hairdresser. nate, on the other hand, “didn’t have a plan B”

nate is canonically possessive of sid (see: the asg 2024) and sid is canonically delighted by this and into it

they go on so many lunch dates in the summer my dude. they go grocery shopping together. like there’s so many pics of them in grocery stores or out having coffee or weird green shakes

oh i almost forgot, they went on a roadtrip through ireland last year. they’ve been on holiday together multiple times over the years though. done some eurotripping together and stuff. in 2015 they spent three months together, three weeks of which were spent living in sid’s santa monica condo together just the two of them

sid has put up a picture of every stanley cup winning captain in his basement since 2008, when the pens lost in the scf to DET. apparently this serves as motivation for him to win the cup. he notoriously does not watch the playoffs after the pens are out

however, he partied so hard at nate’s cup party he actually closed down the party with his dad. nate is the only non-teammate sid’s ever been seen supporting for a cup run (he’s also never been to his teammates’ cup parties afaik so. there’s that)

also they talked on the phone daily and between periods during nate’s cup run. they also canonically have almost weekly phone dates that can run multiple hours. quote nate “i can’t talk to anyone else the way i can talk to him”

they each have pictures of the two of them together framed in each other’s houses

there’s rumours they’re building adjoining houses on neighbouring properties in cape breton next to a golf course bc apparently being neighbours in halifax isn’t enough or something. this one is as yet unconfirmed by reputable sources though

[uceyliyahh]

UCEYLIYAHH'S MASTERLIST

about me:

Heyyyy my loves 💗 my name is Aaliyah you can call me Liyah for short ofc, I write Jey Uso fanfics series for fun and be creative with my own story ideas. 💁🏽‍♀️

I started writing on Wattpad when I was like a middle schooler lol 😭😭 but overtime it became a hobby of mine that I like to do during my spare time.

I got back to writing around 2021? Or 2022 Maybe during the pandemic then around 2023 that’s when I got back watching wrestling again.

ground rules (very simple 🙂)

I don’t want people to steal my fanfic ideas and make it their own so if I catch one of yall messy ppl doing that it’ll have some consequences to your actions.

My fanfics are only for 18+ and up so minors need to leave immediately DO NOT READ.

Don’t be rude or send some negativity bs towards my way because I don’t have time to deal with folks keep it cute. ☺️

fyi: none of these fanfics are real just made up and I only own the OC.

Lmk if you wanna be tagged but I hope you all enjoy my little writing on here! 💗

credits to: @anitalenia for the dividers love them 🫶🏽

TAGSLIST ⬇️

@paigereeder @empressdede @biancasreign @jstarr86 @pinkwithhearts @raya-hunter01 @zillasvilla @luvrsluxe @4milly @yyaktayak @mzv11 @sharmelasworld

@skyesthebomb @charmed-dreamssss @reignsboy19 @mselenalovebug @lilucey @magnificentbouquetmusic @luuvprincess @mjonthetrack @nbanenefrmdao

@420days @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @celesteheartsjey @aikosilo @xbriexx @bunnnyyys @serenity-noble @isabella-2025 @prettyfilmz @usoinked @femdisa @myamericannightmare @mingisfavgf @jeyusosqueen

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completed series💜 Under Your Touch. (CAST),(1.),(2.),(3.),(4.) ,(5.),(6.),(7.),(8.),(9.),(10.),(11.),(12.),(13.),(14.),(15.),(16.),(17.),(18.),(19.),(20.),(21.),(22.),(23.),(24.) (COMPELTED 11.20.2024) SOMETHING BOUT'US (CAST),(1.),(2.),(3.),(4.),(5.),(6.),(7.),(8.),(9.)(10.),(11),(12.),(13),(14,),(15),(16.),(17.),(18.),(19.),(20. final chapter)

Jey Uso Series ongoing 💜

WRITTEN IN RED,(𝕮𝖆𝖘𝖙),(𝔘𝔫𝔬),(𝔡𝔬𝔰),(𝔗𝔯𝔢𝔰),(ℭ𝔲𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔬),(ℭ𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔬),(𝔖𝔢𝔦𝔰),(𝔖𝔦𝔢𝔱𝔢),(𝔒𝔠𝔥𝔬)

Jey Uso One-Shots 📍

Baby Boy Listen

Bordersz Number One Girl

White Tee, White Tee pt2.

Call Up, Proud of U

24hr Dog

special masterlist for Big Jim

Twilight inspired series 🐺

Moon Bound, |Cast|,|𝓸𝓷𝓮|,|𝓽𝔀𝓸|,|𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮|,|𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻|,|𝓯𝓲𝓿𝓮|,|��𝓲𝔁|,|𝓼𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷|,|𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽|,|𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮|,|𝓽𝓮𝓷|,|𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷|

Jimmy Uso Series ongoing 💋

Main One, [two], [three],[four],[five],[six],[seven],[eight],[nine]

Guarded,[one],[two],[three],[four],[five],[six],[seven],[eight],[nine],[ten],[eleven],[twelve],[thirteen],[fourteen]

[daryfromthefuture]

i have another wild au concept i need to share: bttf shifted like 40 years forward and marty and doc meet online (maybe during the covid pandemic even?)

doc has some sort of username that's just "science_guy_121" or something and he like. replies to martys instagram story at some point where marty maybe just had to tag random ass accounts for a challenge. marty didn't expect anyone to reply but doc was like "Thank you for tagging me! 😃" and marty knows just from this message that doc is OLD lmao

marty goes "yeah no prob" and doesn't think he'll talk to the guy ever again, but doc just keeps messaging him. they find out they share an interest in music and ramble about bands a lot.

the man does know about internet anonymity and doesn't say his name, but he does say how old he is at some point and marty probably should be concerned about talking to 60 year olds online at like 13/14 years old, but he really isn't since the guy is so friendly. he does ask at some point, and doc is just super confused as to why anyone would even have bad intentions and assures marty he just likes talking to people, and that topic is never brought up again

a year later or so, marty convinces doc to get discord, and that happens at like two in the morning, so doc asks what's keeping the kid awake and marty goes on to tell doc about his family situation. doc is really empathetic and grows to be martys support system, and even as an online friend, he helps marty so much, talking to him at 3 am to calm him after hearing his parents fight all night. doc also helps him with schoolwork via internet, essentially helping marty pass several classes.

in early 2025, doc leaks that he's building something really cool and that he'd love to show marty his new invention, to which marty goes "damn, i wanna come see. may i ask which city u live close to" and doc replies with "Oh, I believe San Francisco seems adjacent enough." marty cannot believe this and texts "NO WAY, SAME HERE".

doc: That's quite the coincidence! Well, I might as well say I live in a small town called Hill Valley.

marty: WHAT

doc: Yeah, I'd assume you've never heard of it. 😂

marty: NO NO

marty: I ACTUALLY

marty: I LITERALLY AM FROM THE SAME TOWN?!?!

and that's how marty finds out he's been talking to the "crazy doc brown" the ENTIRE TIME lol

the two can, without any trouble, meet in person, and the first thing marty does when getting to the garage is apologize profusely for still laughing about the rumors about doc while texting him online about how kind he was at the same time. doc forgives him, and that's how they basically start spending time together in person. marty's screen time goes down significantly, but he's actually so goddamn happy about having a friend like that and will defend doc with his life.

yeah that's kinda it. also a bit of a homage to all the awesome people i have met on the internet. love you guys <3

[anti-terf-posts]

Three things that I've learned at the philosophy class today (14th/03):

I am a fuckin coward who does not know how to communicate their ideas n is afraid of embarrassin themselves if they try to do so.

This generation is way more conservative than we may think (which is ironic, considerin we're known as the “least conservative generation” n “the rad leftists”) an' no one around me ever noticed that.

Nobody at my class would survive any idea or concept of any of the non cishetero-amatonormative relationships dynamics that exists everywhere on the arospec, queerplatonic n the polyamorous communities. None of them. Not at all.

My teacher asked us to watch the movie The Matrix, since it was inspired by Plato's ideas, more specifically the cave story, so we could bring n discuss. Cause that was the subject of the class.

Surprisingly, the premise of the movie does not seem bad, n it's probably the red pill movement that ruined the experience, cause, as a classmate explained, is about a random guy who takes a red pill n discovers that the entire humanity is controlled by half a world of robots. Seems fun, I think I'm gon watch it if there is no gore or disturbin scenes. The whole problem started when my teacher touched on the red pill movement, omg...

Long, long story short, my teacher jus repackaged a whole lot of conservative bullshit that is shoved down our throats 24/7 since we were born until the school coordinator entered the classroom to talk to our teacher about somethin until she got angry at another student for askin her to go away, because it got her offended (lookin at this last part now, this is funny as shit, cause bro was tryin his best to be military style polite, as we study on a civic military school, n she still scolded the shit outta him, lmfao).

But somethin that caught me at the immediate time, but doesn't surprise me, now that I think about it was that my entire class shared heteronormative bioessentialist ideals. Our teacher, sure, it's expected, he's a grown ass adult, but it was my classmates that got to me.

I am 17 years old. Most of us are about to turn 18 n that's our last year of school. All of us were around 12/13 durin the pandemic, so I'm pretty sure many of us got to see the end or the leftovers of the “Quebrando Tabu” era. (For context, it was a left wing movement that was overall mainstream anti racism, iceberg tip lgbt rights activism n liberal feminism.) Since it was a very superficial left movement, I wouldn' expect radical leftists, anarchists or communists to come out of it, but the bare minimum I expected was for the girls at my class to not be indignated when men didn' perform traditional masculinity.

Bruh, they got angry over boys knowin names of hairstyles n complementin them on it, or knowin about makeup more than them. Like girl, if you're so insecure about a guy knowin make up more than you, go search more about make up, dammit!

Y'all, my eyes got wide when I heard people mentionin the fuckin bible to justify that the red pill movement was somewhat right, because “all relationships have a more masculine protective force n a more carin feminine force”. Totally not hetero-amatonormative discourse that reinforces gender roles on everybody, guys, I am definitely not scared. /sarcasm

An' it gets worse, cause then my teacher said: “even in homosexual relationships we observe this”. He said that even is relationship between two women, there was someone who did the role of The Man�� in the relationship. A thing that lesbians had been tryin to debunk. For. Years. N another fuck head commented on butches to support that. If that wasn' the most butchphobic thing I've ever heard, idk what it is.

An' I'm honestly not proud of myself for not standin up against it. As I said before, I am a coward n ion know how to stand up for myself or my ideals, n I'm jealous of those who know how to do so, kapakapakapa.

But moral of the story, the matrix has an interestin plot of the surface, we have never got over conservatism, no matter how much queers are visible right now, I need to do better, n people are disturbingly easy to think that they're goin against a system by spreadin logic of the fuckin system, jus because minorities are visible. The end.

Hey i don't think you should blame yourself for not standing up :( It's scary to share more leftist opinions, especially if you live in a more right-wing/conservative area. So you did nothing wrong, and I think you're already brave by sitting through that.

Also I'm going to have to agree with you on gen z being more conservative than we think :[ I live in a really left and progressive area, but I still hear kids yelling the r word and making homophobic/racist jokes. It's also really common to get weird looks whenever you talk about an opinion you have that's more liberal.

[louisupdates]

ALL OF THOSE VOICES

Louis Tomlinson’s feature length documentary

• Louisupdates Tumblr:

“It hit me like a ton of bricks. I was not prepared for it, not at all.” [x]

“It had always been in my mind that it would be cool if we weren’t the standard boyband that got given songs and sang them.” [x]

“Life always throws shit at you. Yes, I’ve had more to deal with than most people my age. But then, when the natural things happen in life, when things weren’t going my way, I couldn’t deal with it. I was like, I’ve already had so much to deal with in my life, so when am I going to start winning?” [x]

Louis at CCME with Liam Payne, & on the Late Late Show 2019 [x]

Louis plays Premios Telehit in Mexico City 2019, and Louis’ family describes Louis’ relationship with his mother Johanna [x]

Louis conversing with his family about the transition from breaking into the music industry to taking charge of his own life; rehearsing with voice coach Helene Horlyck for tour; clips from the Scala benefit concert for War Child in February 2020; and clips from the first Louis Tomlinson World Tour concerts in Barcelona and Madrid, March 2020, before the pandemic brought everything to a stop. [x]

Louis spends time with son Freddie in Los Angeles, including a magical moment flying a kite on the beach. “When you’re running with it, it looks really good, you should have a look! ‘Cuz sometimes you’re just running forward, and you’re missing all the action!” [x]

Louis describing writing Faith In The Future in Mexico during lockdown, & the first LTWT22 concert, on 1 Feb 2022 in Dallas, Texas [x]

Louis starts to record his new album at Wendyhouse Studios in London [a repeat, x]

Louis in the studio with Theo Hutchcraft, recording his single, Saturdays [x]

Louis starts the Louis Tomlinson World Tour in February 2022. First stop: Dallas. [x]

Fans camping for shows [x]

Louis being one of the lads when touring on the road. [x]

16th March 2022, Los Angeles, USA. For the first time Freddie is coming to see his dad performing on stage. [x]

Louis works on Faith In The Future while on his first world tour. [x]

Louis and team start the tour in Iceland at the Blue Lagoon [x]

“It’s become a bit of a thing, for some reason, I’ve started challenging people to races. ‘Cuz I used to be quick when I was about 16-years-old, and obviously fourteen years later, I’m not as quick as maybe I think I am.” [x]

In Poland, Louis finds out he has a fracture in his right arm that will need to be immobilized (it won’t be the last time). [x]

LTWT22: from Doncaster to Latam [x]

Louis arrives to start tour in Latin America! And LTHQ interviews some experts on Latam fan culture who are not from South America. [x]

Louis takes in the successful Latam leg of LTWT and takes the band for an outing in Brazil. [x]

Louis and the band bond in Brazil. [x]

Louis and LT band sit down to listen to the final minutes of the new album (and the adorable Mr. Dinnadge). [x]

AFHF 2022: MALAGA [x]

AFHF MALAGA, and the sublime, unreleased Change [x]

One Direction comes to an end. [x]

Louis marvels how he started LTWT with venues of “2000 cap” in the USA and ended with 30,000+ in Milan (3.9.2022). [x]

The End [x]

• AOTV TikTok:

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 23, part 24, part 25, part 26, part 27, part 28

• TOKYO PREMIERE (13.3.2023): Tumblr

• MEXICO CITY PREMIERE (20.3.2023): Tumblr

• LONDON PREMIERE (13.5.2023): Insta, Tumblr

INSTAGRAM TEASERS:

27.3.25: “It was so fucking fun.”

28.3.25: “I was like, well if I’m not gonna fucking sing, then what else, what else can I do for this band? … It had always been in my mind that it would be cool if we weren’t the standard boyband that got given songs and sang them.”

29.3.25: “Where I left One Direction was I’d come off the stage feeling like… a God.”

30.3.25 “This is my first headline show. Ten songs with you guys! I just want to say thank you. The rain has been fucking awful. Thank you for staying. Let’s have a good time! I’m going to be singing a few of my singles, a few of my new ones.” Louis at CCME in Madrid, 2019.

31.3.25 “There’s always been a fantastic bond between Louis and his mum.”

2.4.25: A look at Louis Tomlinson’s debut solo show at Scala, London - February 2020

3.4.25: Louis starts to record his new album at Wendyhouse Studios in London

5.4.25: “I hear a lot about when they have a tour bus, they convert the back lounge into a bedroom for them. If they want to do that, that’s fine, but Louis didn’t do that. We had the back lounge as a back lounge. He just had a bunk like everyone else.”

6.4.25: “It was a really nice feeling going from not touring at all, to what felt like every leg of the tour in terms of size, getting bigger and bigger and bigger.”

7.4.25: “I never had this luxury of playing Doncaster in the band. From the first two songs I was out there, it just felt so f**king special.”

8.4.25: “It feels so good to be back in these places because I’m lucky enough to have people here who want to see me”

9.4.25: “Bringing my mates along means sharing those moments and remembering not to take any of it for granted.” Louis and his team helicopter to a lush escape aboard a Brazilian yacht.

11.4.25: “Standing there today, It hit me hard. This is everything I’ve ever worked for. Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

13.4.25: Creating ‘Faith In The Future’ whilst on tour.

14.4.25: “What’s been so nice about this tour is feeling the chemistry bubbling between us as a band... Having these moments of togetherness makes the show better.”

15.4.25: “Getting rid of my self-doubt and embracing my confidence naturally leads to better writing because it means you’re willing to be brave.”

16.4.25: “When I’m on stage, the energy in the room is undeniable. It’s pure passion and overwhelming support.”

17.4.25: Louis Tomlinson on The Late Late Show with James Corden, Los Angeles — October 2019.

19.4.25: Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan backstage before playing the same festival in Mexico.

20.4.25: Louis gets ready for his first solo tour with vocal rehearsals.

23.4.25: “Part of the magic was that you were going through this mind altering situation but that’s what made it feel amazing.”

[socialismforall]

On the Bernie Sanders-AOC "Anti-Oligarchy" Rallies

Social-democratic reformists like Bernie Sanders exist to channel working class anger back into the "left wing" of capitalism.

I eagerly supported Sanders in 2016 as a major step forward with the hope that he'd take the obvious opportunity to lead 10s of millions of people out of the Democratic Party. He not only refused but barely spoke out about the ways the Democratic Party had unfairly fought back against the huge, anti-status quo, pro- #MedicareForAll movement he'd rallied. This is in line with the 1990s deal he made with the Vermont Democratic Party that if he didn't start a labor party, they wouldn't seriously challenge him (see link at bottom).

Bernie did the same again in 2020 but worse, rolling over for his "good friend Joe" Biden as soon as the pandemic broke out. He's been totally irrelevant ever since. Remember the "working groups" the Dems granted Bernie following his caving for Biden? They were a joke. The groups were sabotaged and ignored, and the right-wing Biden administration ultimately helped to pave the way for a rested-and-ready return of a significantly more extreme Trump in 2025.

The rank-and-file people who are following Bernie, wanting him to do something real, are some of the most progressive people in the USA, but they're completely wasting their time with Bernie as a "leader." The US left consequently continues to be stuck with no major labor movement and no major anti-imperialist political leaders.

If your "left" "leaders" are still promoting the 1%-owned, genocidal-imperialist Democratic Party as part of a solution to the problems facing the US working class and the exploited and oppressed of the global south, they're not leaders; they're misleaders. It can be a hard truth to face, but it is true. We need a militant, anti-capitalist labor movement fighting for socialism at home and to dismantle the empire abroad.

If Bernie had led a 10M or 15M-voter chunk out of the 50M-member Democratic Party (into the Greens or into a newly established labor party), the Dems clearly and obviously never would be able to get elected again without the left -- and in a way that would matter and couldn't be hidden from the public discussion. That would bring the left into the light and put our agenda on the table, putting the rest of the struggle's success on our own, internal politics to bring the correct ideas, strategies, and tactics to the fore. Most of the real fight still would be outside the electoral system, but we wouldn't just be flat-ignored by the mainstream any longer, and this would pull so many more demoralized and disheartened workers back into the fight.

If you and I can figure this out, so can Bernie. He knows; it's just not what he wants to do. Ask yourself, why is that?

Capitalists' so-called "anti-fascism" is extremely limited, consisting of certain idealists who want to try to fix the problems of capitalism's crises of profitability in less brutal ways than just open terrorism, but even when they're successful in the short term, they absolutely do not have a long-term solution to the capitalism's inevitable decline and are wasting the global working class's time.

"Who has betrayed us? Social democrats!" became a slogan almost a century ago for good reason. It's in social-fascism's nature to oppose the working class and give capitalism time to prepare "emergency" (fascist) measures to protect itself. Bernie Sanders, working with the Dems, is no exception.

source: https://www.deseret.com/politics/2025/04/13/bernie-sanders-fighting-oligarchy-rally-with-alexandrai-ocasio-cortez/

source: https://www.counterpunch.org/2015/07/21/bernie-out-of-the-closet-sanders-longstanding-deal-with-the-democrats/

source: https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/bernie-sanders-endorses-joe-biden/story?id=70123451

[ghostflowerdreams]

Audio Drama Recommendations, Pt. III

Click here for part one and here for part two. Recently, I've been drawing a lot, which gives me plenty of time to listen to audio dramas and podcasts. These are the ones I liked the most and found entertaining enough to recommend to others. This is not in any particular order, either.

The Green Horizon – is a sci-fi comedy drama created and written by Paul Walsh. It is sponsored by Faustian Nonsense, an indie entertainment network. It currently has three seasons, with each episode being about 20 - 30 minutes long, but later on it increases to 30 - 40 minutes. A fourth season is said to be coming out soon as well.

It is set in the year 2261, and it focuses on a ne'er-do-well Irish space captain and his rag-tag crew, as they traverse a war-torn Galaxy in search of fame and fortune. [ONGOING]

It was a little chaotic and rough at the beginning, but it does smooth out and become more polished. I can definitely tell that they up their game with the improved sound effects and production quality. The voice actors and the writing for the audio drama does an excellent job at bringing their characters to life, which made it very fun to follow along.

If you like Firefly, Red Dwarf, Orville, Cowboy Bepop, and so on then I think you may enjoy this too.

DERELICT – is a sci-fi narrative audio drama from award-winning science fiction author J. Barton Mitchell, and produced by Night Rocket Productions. It currently has one season titled FATHOM, which consist of 10 episodes with each one ranging from 40 mins to an hour, mostly the latter.

Something has been found at the bottom of Earth's ocean. An ancient artifact that can only be described as a giant door, inset into the sea floor. It becomes known as the Vault. A gigantic enigma, buried and forgotten...nineteen thousand feet down.

To study the artifact, the galaxy's most powerful corporation, Maas-Dorian, has built a massive, self-contained, secret laboratory base surrounding it, named FATHOM. It's objective: unlock the secrets of the artifact and discover what it holds.​ But some mysteries should remain buried. And some doors should never be opened... [ONGOING]

DERELICT started as the first project set up as a kickstarter. They produced one episode to entice backers, but then the pandemic happened, and they didn’t raise enough money for the rest of it. Instead, they worked on a prequel season called FATHOM. It's where the story really starts, and I highly suggest you listen to it before listening to "DERELICT E1 - Through the Gate."

I hope they redo the DERELICT's first episode because there's a bit of disconnection from it and FATHOM. For example, Sarah and Agent Blayne already know each other. She mentions it to the others, but the conversation they have with each other doesn’t make it seem that way.

Never mind. I apparently confused this Sarah with the Sarah in FATHOM. Can't blame me for thinking that when I heard the name Sarah and that she was already familiar with Agent Blayne.

Deviser – is a sci-fi horror audio drama created, directed, acted and produced by Harlan Guthrie. The same creator of Malevolent. It's a 7-part limited series, with each episode being about 20 mins long.

Son wakes up aboard a spaceship bound for earth in an effort to recolonize. What he discovers, however, will change everything he knows about his world and himself. [COMPLETED]

It's not for everyone, so please do not ignore the content warnings because there's graphic description of violence, self harm, body horror, gore, animal death/being hurt, and what not.

Victoriocity – is a detective comedy audio drama written by Chris and Jen Sugden, directed by Nathan Peter Grassi and produced by Dominic Hargreaves. It is an entirely independent production. It has two seasons, containing 13 episodes in total, and each one is about 30 to 45 minutes long. There's also a feature-length special and a up-coming third season with the help of a kickstarter.

It is 1887 in Even Greater London, an alternate steampunk Victorian London, where Queen Victoria reigns even after being assassinated eleven times, thanks to the wonders of modern science.

In this vast metropolis, Inspector Archibald Fleet and journalist Clara Entwhistle investigate a murder, only to find themselves at the centre of a conspiracy of impossible proportions. [ONGOING]

It's put together so well, and I see why people say it gives off strong Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett vibes to it. So if you like their works, then I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you like this too.

Impact Winter – is an apocalyptic vampire audio drama created and written by Travis Beacham (Carnival Row, Pacific Rim). It has two seasons containing 22 episodes in total and each one is about 17 to 30 minutes long.

“They came after the impact and the firestorms. When the sun went dark. Like they’d been there all along. Just waiting.”

In the British countryside, a band of survivors forms a resistance in the fallout shelter of a medieval castle. Darcy is a battle-tested vampire hunter who is at the front line, leading the charge to save humanity. Meanwhile, her younger sister Hope wants life to return to normal so she can go above ground and know what it’s like to live again. And she just might be willing to risk it all. [ONGOING]

It has a stacked cast led by Holliday Grainger (Cinderella, Great Expectations), Esme Creed-Miles (Hanna, The Legend of Vox Machina), Liam Cunningham (Games of Thrones, Hunger), Himesh Patel (Station Eleven, Tenet), David Gyasi (Interstellar, Carnival Row), Caroline Ford (Carnival Row, Nekrotronic), Chloe Pirrie (Emma, Carnival Row), and Bella Ramsey (Games of Thrones, The Last of Us).

This reminded me a lot of the film 30 Days of Nights (2007) with a little bit of Reign of Fire (2002), which were both fun films to watch. I think if you like those two, especially the former, you'll enjoy this or at least be entertained by it.

A Voice From Darkness – is a scripted paranormal horror audio drama. It is written and produced by Jac Rhys. It currently has two seasons, containing 20 episodes in total and each one is about 20 to 30 minutes long. It also has 7 bonus voicemail episodes and 15 Patreon exclusive episodes which are longer than the main episodes. A third season in the works as well.

Join parapsychologist and radio broadcaster Dr. Malcolm Ryder as he helps those who suffer the supernatural, paranormal or otherworldly problems on his call-in radio show. It is also interspersed with segments, one of which is called 'Today In Odd America' that delves into the origins of a holiday, local traditions, and history. [ONGOING]

If you like Welcome To Night Vale then I think you'll like this too. A Voice From Darkness is a bit more serious and not as long-drawn as Night Vale was, with a perfect mix of storytelling and lore. It also reminds me a bit of The Magnus Archive too.

How i Died – is a mystery audio drama that brings a "new twist on the true crime genre." It is an Audiohm Media original production, co-starring Vince Dajani as Jon Spacer and Shaina Waring as Sheriff Fran Crowley. It currently has three seasons with 39 episodes in total, not including bonus episodes. Each episode is usually about 20 mins, give or take a few minutes.

Bodies are piling up in the strange town of Springfield, and forensic pathologist Jonathan Spacer intends to find out why. But, Jon isn’t without his own secrets… He can talk to the dead, for starters. [ONGOING]

Ooo, a character that can speak to the dead? It's always so interesting to see what they'll do with their ability and where the creators take them. This has been entertaining, but at times I do think they can do better in developing their characters a bit more. For example, I can count on one hand the number of times Crowley doesn't get angry. Though to be fair, Jon isn't an immediately likable character, but that does change the further you go...sorta.

The Amelia Project – is a comedy fiction audio drama created, written, directed, produced and edited by Philip Thorne and Øystein Ulsberg Brager for Imploding Fictions and The Fable and Folly Network. It currently has four seasons, with a fifth one on the way. There's about 72 episodes, not including prologue, special, and BTS episodes which would up the total to 122. Each episode also varies in length from 20 to 45 minutes long.

The Amelia Project is a secret agency that fakes its clients' deaths, then lets them reappear with a brand-new identity. A black comedy full of secrets, twists... and cocoa. The series starts as a succession of interviews with clients who want to fake their deaths, then slowly a larger narrative begins to emerge... Each episode tells its own story, but we recommend starting with Season 1. [ONGOING]

It was fun to listen to while I was drawing or washing the dishes. I could also follow along without becoming too distracted by it, either. I was worried it would be one of those that take a while to get to the main overall story, but thankfully it did not. It will definitely keep you entertained and interested to know what will happen next.

Community Cat News – is a neighborhood news show done from the perspective of cats. There's currently 13 episodes so far and each one varies from 5 to 12 minutes long.

Local News: The human is opening the fridge! Will we get a taste?

Foreign Affairs: What are those squirrels up to now?

Traffic: WHY is the bathroom door shut again?

Every episode is sponsored by Meow Meow Puffytail, Feline Rights Attorney, who is ready to sue your human for even the slightest inconvenience. [ONGONG]

It's cute, light-hearted, and funny. I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I did. It even uplifted my mood without me realizing I was feeling low.

[boujeesimss]

hello! welcome to my tumblr. my name is boujeesimss! ౨ৎ

wcif friendly! ᵕ̈ (I try to answer all wcifs on the weekends)

new posts everyday at 10am est and 2pm est time! 🤎

you may use my code “BOUJEE” when shopping on the EA app. By using my code, it will directly support me as a sims creator. thank you in advance. <3

my content navigation ಇ

lookbooks | cc recs | interiors | cas recs | screenies 

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helpful corner ಇ

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common questions ಇ

What do you play on? I currently use a ROG Zephyrus G15 2022 laptop to play Sims 4 (yes, I would recommend this laptop but if you have the room and $ to get a desktop, get the desktop!) I am currently shopping for a custom PC! I am so excited to finally upgrade my Sims set up! I will keep everyone updated and include my PC specs once everything comes in! <3 

How are your photos so clear? I use SRWE & GShade in game and I use GIMP & Adobe Lightroom app to sharpen/color my photos.

Will you ever do YouTube? I dream about doing videos but my laptop is super loud when I play Sims, so I can’t do YouTube until I get a desktop that is a lot quieter sadly!

How do you make CC Finds? I set up a bare lot with just photo backdrops, I take quick screenshots of the items and move over to Canva. I use a 9-slot template for every CC Find. In Canva, I just zoom in the item and it becomes super clear. I then move the template over to Gimp to sharpen the entire photo. I do not use SRWE to make CC Finds (it would take a lot longer)

How do you make Lookbooks? I create usually 3 different outfit themes in CAS on Nara. I used to take the photos in CAS but learned quickly that the quality is not good in there! I also can’t get SRWE to work in CAS. I now take photos of Nara in Live Mode on a white backdrop. I do use SRWE to take each photo. It takes a little longer, but the quality is great. I then crop and sharpen the photos in GIMP. 

How do you post so often? Like my bio says, I don’t have many hobbies other than Sims lol! I spend a lot of my nights scheduling posts for weeks to come. When the post goes public, I share it to my other social medias. At this moment, I have 18 scheduled posts. I am now starting to post daily at 10am EST and 2pm EST time. So, keep an eye out at those times! I also have learned the art of working fast at creating posts. I also have a list of CC Finds, Lookbooks, screenies that I want to do. So I pretty much always have a plan on what I am going to do that day. Some posts just come naturally. Also another tip! If you see my sim in a screenie wearing an outfit you like, just know a lookbook will probably be coming soon! (you can also do a WCIF under my ask, I won’t mind!)

a little about me ♡ ̆̈

you may use my code “BOUJEE” when shopping on the EA app. By using my code, it will directly support me as a sims creator. thank you in advance. <3

hi there! my name is Jacqueline. I am 25 years old, and I have loved the sims since I was around 13. I was a super fan of LifeSimmer back in the day! she inspired me to begin playing sims 3. the rest was history hahah, i started my TikTok during the pandemic and don’t regret it one bit! I have loved sharing videos of my sim families and sharing tips with simmers all around the world. It is truly a blessing! I am new to Tumblr so excuse my page and all of its updates. we are a work in progress! I am a huge fan of Taylor Swift, I have two cats, one is named Penelope, and one is Paisley. I have 1 sister and an amazing mom who is my best friend. I love to stay home and play sims, watch reality tv or nap.

my goal for my Tumblr is to slow down my gameplay and appreciate the games beauty. I often rush through my sim families and create things fast.. it isn’t fun that way. I love to take screenshots, TikTok’s, lookbooks, decorate interiors, cc finds and lots more!

to finish off, i just hope whoever is reading this, truly loves sims as much as i do. it is a game that everyone should play in my opinion. young and old. there is nothing more fun than a game that involves clothes, houses and unlimited simoleons. last of all, i hope my content inspires you to make a page or a tiktok or an instagram sharing your gameplay. this community is always growing and it is so fun to see everyone’s ideas. my wcif is always open for any questions, recommendations, wcif (where can i find). now lets go create some sim content! see ya out there. xoxo jacqueline. ‪‪❤︎‬༝༚༝༚

(updated 04/26/25)

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.