#finger lakes railway

[aryburn-trains]

A Different Kind of Sweep Train by Citizen of the Galaxy Via Flickr: With broom and shovel at the ready for clearing snow, Finger Lakes GP9 No. 1703 stops at the Martisco Station museum with a Santa train on the Christmas card like morning of 20 December 2008.

[rawbiredbest]

@machabre

It’s the edge of autumn when Sergei shows Fury his bike. It’s a brand he’s never heard of, engine solid and compact under a chassis the color of lake water at midnight. Custom paint, probably. Had to cost a pretty penny. That Dragunov saves up his soldier’s paychecks to satisfy his rich-bitch tastes never fails to make Bryan fall for him a little bit more.

Then Sergei swings a long leg over the motorcycle and looks at him, and Bryan thinks about a different kind of falling.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, folding his arms, “Y’all use dash cams for a reason. Let ME drive.”

Dragunov’s brow knits. He’s seen firsthand how Fury treats hardware. The last thing he needs is a fight to start (a possibility that can NEVER be ruled out), escalation, and Bryan throwing the motorcycle like a javelin, because it WAS expensive, and he went through the trouble of taking off the sidecar because he KNEW it’d only bring smartass remarks like “World War Two ended eighty years ago, Sputnik”. No, Fury’s riding pillion, whether he likes it or not.

But as the minutes drag on and Bryan shows no sign of acquiescence, Sergei sighs. If this keeps up, they’re going to miss the tour at the Railway Museum (the destination he neglected to tell Fury to postpone the colorful commentary that too would incite — he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it). At times like these, he needs to sweeten the pot.

He starts by adjusting his gloves, the red-brown leather molded to his fingers. (Also expensive.) He glances at Bryan watching him. Good.

Boots next, tugging on the backs for a snug fit. The breeze picks up and scatters gold leaves around his feet, the bike’s tires, brushing stray strands of black against his face.

Finally, Dragunov raises both arms over his head, the pretense being he’ll be driving for a while and wants to stretch his back. His shirt rides up just a hint, revealing a half-inch of pale waist. He hums with relieved tension, lets his lips curl with the slightest of smiles.

Fury is staring. In infrared too, probably.

And he breaks. “Fucker,” he mumbles, climbing on behind him. His hands find Dragunov’s hips, thumbs slotting perfectly against his bare skin.

Sergei’s rasping chuckle is swallowed by the roar of the motorcycle coming to life. The greatest investment one can make is in one’s own happiness.

[ryanfrogz]

FGLK 2691 is a boxcar which once belonged to the Texas-Mexican Railway. Its current owner is the Finger Lakes Railway out of upstate New York. Needless to say, it's rather out of place in Minneapolis.

[blurscolours]

The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea | Part Six

Masterlist

Summary: An attack on Arthur’s imprisoned brother Orm leaves him with no choice but to rely upon you, a friend made due to unfortunate circumstances nearly a decade ago, to provide safe haven while he restores peace to Atlantis. Suddenly tasked with sheltering a sullen former king results in a very different summer vacation than you had originally envisioned, but changes both of your lives forever.

Warnings: Bear Attack, Orm Injury, Blood, First Aid, Discussion of Atlantean Healing

Word Count: 2083

By the following weekend, the pile of logs to be split had dwindled significantly. Activity on the lake was picking up again, so you suggested you go on a walk into the woods, to both look for felled trees and get away from the racket.

Your planned route was not arduous, but it was hot in the thick of the trees and sunbaked granite, so you put your bathing suit on underneath your shorts and tank top to be ready to swim as soon as you returned to the lakeshore. You also applied sunscreen to your exposed skin, as he read the back of the bottle curiously.

“We can’t all be as perfect as you…” You teased lightly. “Sunburns are terribly uncomfortable.”

Making sure you each had a bottle of water, and a bucket to collect any blueberries there might be, you headed off with him down the path to the railway tracks. You stopped at the edge and let him take in the space without a freight train barreling through the landscape, before leading him across and deeper into the trees. You were by no means an elegant hiker, but you made your way up the slope of the path, avoiding the mud churned up by ATVs. The two of you noted some trees that had fallen as a result of wind or at the end of the life. He stated he would come back later to collect them.

You emerged from the thick of the trees onto a landscape of granite rocks and twisted jack pine trees. It was a rather foreign landscape compared to the woods or the lakeshore.

“Here is where we might find blueberries.” You said excitedly and headed over to inspect one of the patches of green. You crouched down and carefully ran your fingers through the leaves before picking a few triumphantly. “Aha!”

You enthusiastically began to pick a few more before putting them in your hand and rinsing them with a splash of water from your water bottle. You popped a few in your mouth and smiled as they were still warm from the sun and reminded you of a fresh blueberry pie.

“You enjoy the taste then?” He asked, much closer than you remembered.

You opened your eyes to see him crouching down right in front of you. You held out your hand and he plucked a few from your palm, the tips of his fingers sliding along your skin. You were powerless to stop the shiver that thrilled through you. You watched as he slid the blueberries past his generous lips before popping them with his teeth and nodding.

“They are sweet but not overwhelmingly so…and warm.” He commented.

His words brought you back to the moment and you nodded quickly.

“Exactly. It reminds me of a dessert my mom makes every summer. Blueberry pie.”

He smiled a little at the mention of your mother…And you realized you had listened to his entire life story without sharing any part of your own.

“I would very much like to try it…” He replied.

“Well then we need to pick a lot more of these.” You laughed and settled in to pick everything within your reach, teaching him to pick only the darkest of the berries, leaving the white or green ones to ripen a while longer. As you shifted around the patch, the bucket getting fuller between the two of you, you told him stories of berry picking with your family…of eating more blueberries than you put in the bucket…

As the time passed, however, you began to feel…unnerved. You found yourself looking across the clearing to the edge of the trees until the shadows moved. You inhaled sharply, and his focus was immediately on you.

“Bear.” You said quickly and quietly, and his eyes shot across the clearing to see the black bear emerge fully, sniffing the wind. The animal was startingly large…not like the females that came close to the cottage sometimes. No, this was a huge male that roamed a large territory, and you were now in it.

“Stand up slowly.” You spoke low and even, moving carefully. He followed your direction, shifting subtly to place his entire form between you and the bear. “Wave your arms slowly and talk to me, we have to show we are not prey.”

You both began to wave your arms.

“Are humans not prey for bears, then?”

“No. We are not. This type of bear is a scavenger…they like berries and fish and dead animals.” You peered around his torso and frowned as the bear started huffing defensively, pawing at the ground.

“It might charge.” You said with dread in your voice. You were doing everything the nature books said and yet the bear still seemed threatened. Orm was in and of himself a very threatening being. That may have been the issue.

“It is charging.” He confirmed with surprising calm.

You heard it roar and start across the clearing.

“Hit it in the face!!!” You managed to squeak out and pressed yourself fully against his back, admittedly terrified.

You felt Orm brace for the impact, holding his arms out to defend you as the snarling bear drew closer. It let out a bellow as it plowed into him, sliding the two of you backwards along the bare rock, but Orm kept his feet, and you were able to do the same by wrapping your arms around his waist. The bear reared up and snarled again as it swiped at Orm’s left arm with its wicked claws before you felt Orm shift and slam his right fist into its muzzle.

The bear let out a rather pathetic noise, one of pain mixed with surprise, as it tumbled back. It scrambled to its feet and scampered off into the woods. At least the books were right about that – black bears could indeed be scared off by fighting back. You unwrapped your arms from Orm’s torso and stood, immediately seeing the angry gashes on his forearm. He turned to face you once the bear was out of sight and seemed much more focused on your wellbeing. You grabbed your water bottle and quickly dumped it over his wound.

“Bear claws are filthy.” You babbled, adrenaline making your hands shake a little. You needed to stop the bleeding. You paused, trying to formulate a plan, before pulling your shirt up and off, folding it into a long strip. As Orm looked on curiously, you pressed the center of the fabric strip to this wound, wrapping it under his arm before pulling the ends back to the front and tying them tightly over the wound to put pressure on it. You picked up his hand and pressed your finger into his skin, pleased to see the blood flow replenish the colour quickly.

“We have to get you back to the cottage…” You turned to pull him back to the path, away from the bear, but he pulled you back to him, the fingers of his good hand sliding under your chin, raising your eyes to his.

“Are you alright?” He asked calmly, seemingly unfazed by what had transpired.

You blinked and nodded dumbly, forcing yourself to take a few calming breaths.

“Yes, sorry, thank you.” You murmured sheepishly.

“Then we can go.” He nodded and let go of your chin, leaning down to pick up the bucket of hard-won blueberries, before letting you lead him back down the path in your bathing suit and shorts.

Neither of you seemed inclined to break contact, and so you held his hand the entire way, taking him straight into the bathroom. You motioned for him to sit on the stool and took out the first aid kit. Your hands were thankfully no longer shaking. You unwrapped your ruined shirt and dropped it directly into the garbage bin. You grabbed some antiseptic and looked to him apologetically.

“This might sting a little…” You knelt on the ground to be face-to-face with the wound on his forearm as you very carefully cleaned it out. You could see right before your own eyes he was already healing; the bleeding had stopped. The bear’s claws had not been able to cut very deep into his Atlantean flesh, but the wound still needed care. You added anti-bacterial cream before closing each gash with sets of steri-strips, offsetting and trimming them with careful precision. You placed gauze over the wounds and wrapped it with bandages.

“Too tight?” You asked once you’d tied it.

“Not at all.” He murmured and you nodded before cleaning up.

“Between you and me, we’re going to use a whole first aid kit before this month is out.” You muttered ruefully as you changed the Band-Aid on your thumb. You looked back to him, still sitting on the stool. “Are you in pain?”

“I will be fine. Thank you,” he replied, making eye contact again. “for your prompt care and the sacrifice of your garment…”

You shook your head quickly.

“I would have died…the thanks are all mine…” You blinked as you remembered he’d just punched a huge land animal. You quickly picked up his right hand and examined his knuckles, putting gentle pressure on the bones of his hand. “Is your hand ok?”

He nodded as his fingers closed around yours, gently turning you hand and lifting your knuckles to his lips. “I am fine.” He confirmed again before pressing a kiss to your skin.

The air shuddered from your lungs, stunned that hands so strong could feel so soft…that a mouth that could speak so harshly had such tender lips.

“I…” You dropped your eyes and they looked around for something to focus on, landing on the bucket of blueberries. “I will get these cleaned up then.” You slipped your hand from his, grabbing the blueberries and fleeing to the kitchen.

The intensity of your body’s response to him was overwhelming, particularly when it mixed with the residual adrenaline. You rinsed the blueberries carefully and lay them out to dry on paper towel, before going down to the lake for a swim. You needed to cool off and calm down or you would absolutely embarrass yourself further.

You jumped in and dunked yourself a number of times before simply floating, the frenzied feeling leeching away into the water. As you climbed out of the lake, he offered you a towel…making you realized you’d forgotten to bring one with you.

“Thank you.” You smiled sheepishly and wrapped yourself up in it. “So.” You looked to him. “Blueberry pie?”

He nodded softly and you headed up to the cottage together. You changed into real clothes and worked with him to make the filling and crust before assembling the pie. Once it was in the oven, you pulled down a wine glass. “I am going to have a glass of mead, an alcoholic beverage made with honey. Would you like to try some?”

“Yes, please.” He answered and you grabbed another glass. You poured a tasting size portion for him and a proper glass for yourself, before bringing the bottle with you as you sat in the living room to relax while the pie baked. He sniffed and swirled the mead before tasting it and you were once again struck by the cultural similarities – though how beverages were serviced and ingested in the ocean was something you would ask him about later. He gave you a nod of approval and you added to his glass.

The warmth of the alcohol spread from the centre of your body out to the tips of your fingers and toes, relaxing you deeply. As you drank, you took the opportunity to tell him about your life – your family, your childhood. The timer beeped once the pie finished, and you pulled it out to cool. Together, you threw together some leftovers for dinner and continued drinking and talking over your meal and dessert.

Thankfully the pie turned out to be worth it effort he had put into collecting those blueberries with you, and you finished the night by cleaning the kitchen. The very close encounter with that bear had truly driven home the importance of keeping the cottage clean. By bedtime, the bottle was empty. You were both thoroughly relaxed, and he was also well-versed in your life in turn. Crawling into bed, it was not a struggle to fall asleep. You melted into the sheets boneless after the effort of the day and slept soundly through the night.

Read Part Seven

Masterlist

[charlesandmartine]

Thursday 21st November 2024

It's just gone 7.00 am and our tradies have left for their various work places. Our neighbour cleared 1.5kms of track yesterday, and he thinks he will be busy till Sunday. We will be long gone by the by the time they have returned from their toil. Tonight, we shall be in Richmond just a short hop down the Flinders to more comfortable surroundings, hopefully. Julia Creek has been a bit rudimentary, but accommodation this deep into the outback is more functional and not predominantly servicing a tourist industry. Caravan parks are more commonly used in this respect with grey nomads abounding. People don't admit to being grey nomads, in fact, many who clearly are in that category, can be quite derogatory about them. The main complaint seems to be that they follow each other around from campsite to campsite and drive at 45 km/hr in the process, irritating everyone else. We do not have a view on this.

Our route East continues to follow the Flinders Highway and through to our destination for the night, Richmond. Before we left Julia Creek, a freight train slowly came through, also heading our way, and we overtook it as we rejoined the Highway while it sat on an overtaking loop. 50 ks down the road was a sign off to Nelia, officially referred to as a town. Well, it had a post office, a railway crossing, and a goat or two. The area was first discovered by the explorer William Landsborough in 1861 as he was also leading a party in search of the missing explorers Burke and Wills. It was he who named the area Nelia Lakes (today known as Nelia Ponds) after Lady Nelia in England, who was a friend of his wife. Once, the town had everything; hotel, cafe, school, Friends Meeting House, racecourse, tennis courts, ten houses, and post office. Now all that remains is the post office, the railway and a small population of 2. The small goat came over and introduced himself to us, and the train we saw previously sounded its horn and rumbled across the crossing. As it did so, the driver gave us a friendly wave, like in a Thomas the Tank Engine story, and the crossing controls sounded its warning. By now, the bond with the goat was inseparable, and we feared he might join us and become a feature of the front seat.

Our journey continued to Richmond with no further places of note. But it turns out that Richmond is a charmer of a town. How nice can a place get. It has wide streets, hotels and bars, hardware store, library, cafe with curry pies, Spar, and all sorts. We hadn't originally planned to stop here, so we are most glad to have booked into this lake view house. Richmond is part of a triangle of fossil/ dinosaur sites and was once by an inland sea and is home to the Kronosaurus. So, tomorrow, bright and early, we have paid for a permit to explore for fossils in a place supposedly quite knee-deep in the stuff. We have been loaned a couple of picks and bars to help ease the fossils out of the bare limestone, so we are keeping our fingers crossed that we might discover a Martineosaurus!

Such excitement required a bit of relaxation, so we took a walk around the lake and saw a couple of kangaroos who saw us and took a dim view of it, disturbing their evening feed.

ps. Kronosaurus queenslandicus was the largest marine reptile-weighing up to 11 000 kg, with a skull more than 2.5 metres in length. The large conical teeth lining its jaws could be up to 30cm long from root to tip. T-Rex was smaller, weighing up to 8 000kg, with a skull of up to 1.5 metres long, and teeth up to 23cm long. It certainly would have been an unfair battle of the beasts.

[just-an-emily-existing]

❤️✨Their magic is bound to their souls. Their soul power allows them to summon their main weapon and manipulate their element like Thomas being able to lift the dirt and use them as platforms. Or Percy being able to create huge tornados.✨❤️

🧡✨They can also gain more power from objects containing their element, like Oliver being able to suck the electricity out of a lamp, or or Duck using the sun to “recharge”.✨🧡

💛✨When two of the same elemental engines are fighting together, their power increases very much like Oliver and Toad fighting an enemy together. Some engines have a hard time fighting together like Thomas and D10 because D10’s fire will usually burn Thomas’ vines but sometimes it can work like Duck’s light reflecting off of Mavis’ metal and blind an enemy.✨💛

💚✨On Halloween, Friday the 13th, Lunar Eclipse, and full moon the ghost engines, coaches and humans go into their living form and can be touched and actually feel things. All of this also goes for the fan kids too @the-annon-cult-leader XD!✨💚

💙✨The ghost engines and coaches’ powers are weakened and feral because they’re dead and have no flesh or real body to possess and let their power thrive, so, they need a bit more of protection and need to be more cautious so they don’t accidentally hurt others. They also have a hard time summoning their powers and their elemental nails are faded…✨💙

💜✨But speaking of the fan kids, they have both of their parents’ elemental powers like Jewel (Me and Dougie’s kid) having both his plasma powers and my Suit of Card powers. The same rules apply for the kids in having the flowers, teardrop, ring, ect. If the kids have kids with each other, then those kids (The Grandkids) will have all four elements. But only two will overpower the others, they’ll still have all four it’s just that two will be better than the other two like let’s say Jewel and Flynn (Thomas and Percy’s son) have a kid, then they’ll have all four but maybe they’ll be better with Plasma and Air. It’s all random really.✨💜

🩷✨Now with them as engines, they don’t have their drivers or firemen anymore because back in the 80’s Thomas was the first engine to discover that they could turn into humans and spread the word to the others. Then, one of the drivers figured out that the engines could gain full control of themselves, and like before, it was spread to the others and before anyone knew it, the engines were in full control of themselves and one by one, their drivers and firemen retired, leaving the engines to think and do things for themselves. But some engines aren’t capable of doing this, mainly the mentally, physically ill, or engines who are just too rowdy who can’t/don’t want to be left alone.✨🩷

❤️✨The engines are now seen as people who do have rights and are able to marry, vote, go to jail, ect. The engines are able to marry humans but it isn’t as common so me and Dougie being a couple wasn’t too welcomed at first. Even though they may be able to turn into humans, they don't need to eat, drink, sleep. The girls don’t have periods and they don’t go through puberty like us humans. The closest things to engine puberty is like Henry getting his new boiler.✨❤️

🧡✨If the engines laugh really hard, like a wheeze kind of laugh, you might hear their horns/whistles.✨🧡

💛✨Now for having kids, I think the most logical (and somewhat pg) thing they can do is have some sort of magical blood ritual. The engines and coaches don’t have DNA to pass on to the carrier so they have to pray to Lady for her assistance. She'll prick the left ring finger of each lover and let the blood drip into a small glass vial while they’re asleep as to not give her identity away. She'll then sprinkle Gold Dust, an angel's laugh, a ray of the sun, a rose petal, and a slice of a rainbow and shake it up very well. Then, she pours it into the Lake of Life in her Magic Railway, allowing the child to come to life. She picks up the baby, dries them off, and swaddles them in a pink or blue blanket, as she drops them off in a basket in the front door of the parent's home. (The baby is in the house dw) and the next morning, the parents will find their new child, ready to start their life.✨💛

💚✨Lady is their Goddess. She gave life to the first object she saw which was her engine body in 1805. The Magic Railway is Train Heaven TM. It was only when the humans figured out how her magic worked, did they steal some from her and give life to the coaches, trucks, breakvans, ect. Lady fled from England to Russia, where no one knew who she was. There she met D10… (I’ll explain their story in more detail in a different post) ✨💚

[quixoticmoth]

Missing Someone

(A small scene for my work Railway Ronin from the perspective of Mikazuki, one of the two main characters.)

Above the lake I watched the green-hued moon; impending as it was and close to the earth, and around my feet I felt warm caresses as it pulled the tides higher to meet me. My shoes were gone, and I hadn’t any idea of when I shed them. I think at some point I shed my gloves; I only realized as my fingers dug into silky, water-loosened sand. And when I took a deep breath of humid air, I found that I shed my mask at some point as well. It was me, here, bare of all identities.

Content at the foot of the celestial throne, I was a mere visitor to the god of the lake who lived here and whispered to me from the distant shore. Not in words she whispered, but in the chimes that hung from her shrine. They played out across the water, riding the ripples in concentric circles that crossed the ones which emanated from me in kind. The geometry was beautiful. I wondered the sound of my own music and hoped she heard this song of mine. 

But as I rested here at water’s edge, the song grew sour. Her chimes responded to mine with an indignant harshness that struck my ears. What had I said? What had I done to upset her? I couldn’t explain myself, not without my face or name… No, not that I couldn’t, but she didn’t listen. The once artistic ripples rose to roaring waves that roped me in. As a wave of anger swelled up inside, I struggled! 

The sky and moon were lost to me, and the fabric of the lake that surrounded me held my arms fast. I couldn’t stand to listen to the music anymore lest I scream and fill my lungs with cotton and feathers and silks! Then, freeing a heavy arm, I reached for the phone on my nightstand, sliding a thumb to hang up the call. The offending music was all at once gone, and the lake along with it.

 All that was left was me, the darkness, and the phone lain next to my shoulder drowning among the sheets.

And the irritating song played again. So I squinted against the irritating light. The caller ID read the name of my most irritating half. And tempting as it was to hang up again, I hadn’t enough mind to question what this early morning call was for.

“Good morning,” I said, and since I was fresh from sleep, my voice sounded softer and higher than I intended. I cleared my throat of day’s-first-words.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” he said. I judged he was loud enough that I could set the phone on the pillow and still hear just fine. I could even close my eyes. “Sounds like you slept well.” 

Not really.

“Mikazuki?” he asked. I had been lulling once more, and never actually said what I meant to aloud.

“Sorry, I was dozing off,” I said. I overcompensated for the lithe voice before and now came across husked. Oh, absolutely not that either. 

Kyle's laugh vibrated close to the microphone. “Have any good dreams?”

I thought of them, but only found myself seeing vague shapes of branches and the feeling of going. I went somewhere; somewhere important to me. There was someone there, but I couldn’t remember who. It was such a grief to only find the shell of a dream. So I hummed and moved past the question. “What time is it?”

“Mmm… half past 3?” Whether that was in my time or his wasn't clear. There was a tint of the anger from my waking moments soaking into the edges of my consciousness. “I just got home,” he continued, ”wanted to see how my favorite person in the world is doing.”

So it was this sort of day, was it? It’s too early to play, but play I did. “Is that me?” I said, not answering the question.

“Of course!"

I hummed again, wishing to fall back to sleep. “You’re home early, aren’t you?” “We wrapped the meeting up early,” he said. “The guest speaker canceled, you know how it is.” 

“I do,” and not wishing to talk about work upon waking, “Have you thought about dinner yet?” “I haven’t even had lunch yet.” “Kyle…”

“I’ll grab something now, don’t worry.” “Thank you,” When I said these things, I imagined myself a busy but beloved wife out of a sweet American soap. Not a romance I think I particularly fit, but a romance nonetheless. With my eyes shut, the scene transformed, colors re-assigned, the static overlay of a TV. Cameras were pointed at us from the periphery of the perfectly arranged kitchen set for a perfectly arranged couple. He went through a few cabinets, rustling packages and pulling boxes of dry snacks onto a counter.

“That’s not a meal,” I said.

“You don’t even know what I grabbed.” He sounded baffled, which uncovered that he was caught.

“I know well enough.”

He put the freeze-dried fruits back. I’ve seen them when I stayed with him; they were his go-to, and I could imagine the specific plums I brought last visit already half empty, but still in the gift packaging.

“Psychic,” he said, getting something from a refrigerator, which then opened with the click and hiss of a vacuum-sealed container.

“You could put them on the salad though.”

“No fucking way.”

I was smiling now, only slightly. He looked around for the studio cameras, but little did he know he was inside the show, and all he could see was me, hovering behind him, watching over his shoulder.

After this, he turned on video call while he ate, dissipating the illusion I had set up in my tired mind. He acted sad when I wouldn’t turn on mine in turn; however, I figured that he just wanted the consolation that I could only see him because he set up a camera himself, rather than wonder what secret way I knew his actions. Which was fine. I didn’t look at the screen the entire time, and when I did, I squinted with one eye at the bright light composed of the white interior of his suite. It had that American city aesthetic of new-age sterility accented with the painted-over carved woodwork of the home’s heritage. It was not my favorite, but I’m sure my home’s style wasn’t his favorite either. 

As I thought about architecture, we spoke longer about the week since we last saw each other. For a moment, it was pleasant; it felt like catching up with a friend. But that wasn’t what it was supposed to feel like; it was supposed to feel like the yearning of a decade-distorted long-distance love affair.

“You never actually told me how you’ve been,” he said. 

“Lonely as usual,” I said quietly as if to hide it from those who share this home with me. There was a sharp rustling against his phone as he moved to another room. I pulled one of my many pillows close for comfort, accidentally bumping my own phone’s speaker in the same way. 

“Yeah?” “Yeah…” It wasn’t a lie, I was lonely. Met with a lapse, my sleep-wracked mind questioned if I should have even admitted that.

When he spoke again it was uncharacteristically gentle. “I miss you…”

“I hate when you say that.” Now that I shouldn’t have admitted, but I already spoke, and so I continued. “I’m right here, you are talking to me now.”

He was thrown off his grove. I threw off the whole grove of the arrangement. Now I was stripping back the layers of this show one by one-  awake enough to know better but bitter enough not to care.

“You aren’t lonely; you have company even when I am not around. And I know you don’t miss spending time with me, as you always find ways to keep apart. You don’t miss my affection. And we talk often; we are talking right now, and still you say you miss me. So what is it in me that you miss?” He wrung his hands, posture deflated on that sterile white couch. The symmetry of the composed shot was broken as he looked off to the side. I knew what he missed. All that was left was for him to say it.

“I…” He hesitated. Inside I was begging him, now cradling the phone in my hands. Please, just say it. There was no one here but us to hear the confession. “I...” Please... “Well, don’t you miss me too?”

I hung up.

The fire-fanning ringtone that had woke me before sounded yet again, and my heart pounded in my throat and ears. “Yuzuki,” I said and was met with a soothing jingle. “Block Kyle, please.” Her voice responded with a mechanical inflection, affirming that Kyle was blocked. The song did not pick up afterward.

It was crushing- the disparity between the silence in the room and the noise from the emotions and thoughts that wracked me. It felt as though that ringtone was still echoing in my head, over again, because I knew that it should be. How was I supposed to go back to sleep like this?

“Yuzuki?”

“How can I help?”

And maybe it was wrong of me to think that the voice of this virtual assistant made me a degree less lonely than the call of my betrothed. “Let’s do a meditation.”

She affirmed my request again. Not long after, I heard her play the calming sounds of water and wind... and the nostalgic music of distant chimes.

[psychiccyclerebel]

Rail agency stops operations, halts Downeaster train extension to Rockland https://www.mainepublic.org/business-and-economy/2024-06-13/rail-agency-stops-operations-halts-downeaster-train-extension-to-rockland

[yashvitours]

A Journey into Cambodia with Yashvi Tours and Travels

Cambodia, cradled by the emerald arms of Southeast Asia, is a mosaic of ancient splendor, vibrant culture, and stunning natural beauty. It’s a land where the echoes of history resonate from moss-covered temples, green jungles brim with exotic life, and the powerful Mekong River shapes a dynamic tapestry of traditions. Join Yashvi Tours & Travels as we explore this fascinating country, revealing its secrets and planning the ultimate Cambodian getaway for you.

Traveling Back in Time

Imagine yourself standing in front of Angkor Wat, the world’s largest religious monument. Its majestic gopurams soar into the sky, decorated with elaborate carvings that tell the stories of the Khmer Empire. Wander through peaceful courtyards, touch the cool stone with your fingers, and let the murmurs of ancient prayers soothe you. Venture beyond Angkor Wat to the mysterious Ta Prohm, where nature takes over the ruins with green vines wrapping around weathered stones, creating a striking contrast of ancient splendor and verdant life. In Bayon Temple, admire the mysterious faces of Avalokiteshvara, each calmly looking out from their sandstone abode, leaving you wondering about their silent tales.

More Than Temples

Cambodia’s allure goes beyond its temples. In the lively capital, Phnom Penh, dive into the lavish Royal Palace, a sparkling array of golden pagodas and intricate murals. Walk through the Central Market, a sensory delight of colorful textiles, aromatic spices, and the lively chatter of sellers. Take a boat ride on the mighty Mekong River, witnessing life unfold along its shores, from busy riverside towns to serene floating communities that adjust to the river’s seasonal flow.

For the Adventurous Soul

Cambodia’s green forests and clear waters call for the adventurer in you. Hike through the lush Angkor National Park, spotting gibbons swinging through the treetops and ancient ruins hiding in the leaves. Kayak along the Tonle Sap Lake, the lifeline of Cambodia, and witness a vibrant ecosystem full of fish, birds, and the unique floating villages that move on the lake’s ever-changing surface.

Planning your Indian Adventure

To make sure your Cambodian escapade is perfect, let’s think about the best time to visit. The dry season, from November to April, offers pleasant weather and sunshine, ideal for exploring temples and outdoor activities. However, be ready for higher prices and bigger crowds. The wet season, from May to October, brings lush greenery and fewer tourists, but occasional rain showers might join you.

Gems that Await Your Discovery

Battambang

Escape the tourist crowds and dive into the genuine charm of Battambang, Cambodia’s second-largest city. Ride the quirky bamboo train, a bamboo platform mounted on railway tracks, and weave through rice fields and charming villages. Visit the Phare Ponleu Selpak Circus, a captivating mix of acrobatics and storytelling, showcasing the strength of the Cambodian people.

Kratie

Embrace calmness in Kratie, a riverside town nestled along the Mekong River. Take a boat trip to see the playful Irrawaddy dolphins, a rare and endangered species, dancing in the green waters. Explore the nearby Wat Phnom Sre Woc, a Khmer pagoda decorated with elaborate murals depicting Cambodian history and mythology.

Kep & Kampot

Enjoy the salty breeze and delicious seafood in Kep, a lovely coastal town known for its relaxed vibe and fresh crab markets. Hike to the Kep National Park, where the abandoned Bokor Hill Station, a French colonial relic, offers panoramic views of the coastline. Venture inland to Kampot, the “pepper capital” of Cambodia, and explore pepper farms, taste unique varieties, and learn about this valued spice’s journey from seed to plate.

Mondulkiri

Embrace the wild heart of Cambodia in Mondulkiri, a mountainous province covered in lush rainforests. Trek through the jungle, encountering cascading waterfalls and diverse wildlife. Visit the Mondulkiri Project, a sanctuary dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating endangered elephants, and learn about these gentle giants.

Koh Rong and Koh Rong Samloem

Escape to the turquoise waters and pristine beaches of the Koh Rong archipelago. Relax on the soft sands of Long Beach on Koh Rong, or snorkel among colorful coral reefs off Koh Rong Samloem. Kayak through mangrove forests, discover hidden coves, and enjoy the laid-back island atmosphere.

Off the Beaten Path

These hidden gems are just a sample of the treasures that await beyond Cambodia’s well-known path. Remember, the most rewarding experiences are often found in the quiet moments, the unexpected encounters, and the connections you make with the local people. So, forget the guidebook, embrace the spirit of adventure, and discover your own hidden Cambodia.

Visas and Practicalities

Indian citizens can get a visa on arrival at the airport or apply online beforehand. Remember to pack a valid passport and enough funds for your stay. Getting around is easy with tuk-tuks, taxis, and even bicycles, offering a glimpse into local life. English is spoken in tourist areas, but learning a few basic Khmer phrases will go a long way.

Shopping Delights

Cambodia’s markets are a treasure chest for shopaholics. From the colorful stalls of Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, filled with silk scarves, hand-painted lacquerware, and intricate silver jewelry, to the artisan workshops scattered across the countryside, you’ll find unique souvenirs and handcrafted goods to cherish. Don’t forget to bargain kindly and support local communities with your purchases.

Why Choose Cambodia?

Cambodia is more than just temples and beaches. It’s a land where warm smiles welcome you, captivating culture envelops you, and stunning natural beauty amazes you.

Here are just a few reasons to choose Cambodia for your next adventure:

Affordability: Cambodia offers incredible value for money, with budget-friendly accommodation, delicious local cuisine, and cheap transportation.

Endless Adventures: From hiking through forests and kayaking on rivers to exploring ancient ruins and diving in coral reefs, Cambodia caters to every thrill seeker.

Cultural Immersion: Dive into the rich tapestry of Cambodian traditions, from watching Buddhist ceremonies and learning Apsara dance to tasting traditional delicacies and practicing the humble wai greeting.

Yashvi Tours and Travels: Your Trusted Partner

Yashvi Tours and Travels, your trusted travel partner, is here to craft the perfect Cambodian adventure for you. We offer best international package booking in Gandhinagar, customized itineraries, expert guides who speak Hindi and English, and seamless travel arrangements, ensuring you experience the best of this enchanting country.

So, pack your bags, embrace the spirit of adventure, and let Yashvi Tours and Travels guide you on an unforgettable journey to Cambodia. This is not just a trip; it’s a chance to create memories that will last a lifetime, a chance to discover the hidden gem of Southeast Asia, a chance to experience the magic that is Cambodia.

Ready to embark on your Cambodian adventure? Contact Yashvi Tours and Travels today and let us weave your perfect.

Article Source : https://www.yashvitours.com/a-journey-into-cambodia-with-yashvi-tours-and-travels/

[dinah-fire]

From page 62, no plans to expand the Downeaster to Bangor, it just doesn't make financial sense. Possible plans to go from Portland to Lewiston to Montreal, which would be sick. There's also a state-owned Midcoast line they're working on.

"In 2021, the Maine State Legislature, directed MaineDOT to conduct a transit propensity study to assess the demand and viability for new or enhanced transit service, including passenger rail, between the communities of Portland and Bangor. The Resolve called for a review of relevant traffic counts, most recent data from the United States Census Bureau, population, and employment data, all reasonably feasible corridors of service, and primary trip generators that could significantly affect demand.

Currently, the benefits of an extension of passenger rail extension to Bangor are relatively low. A new rail service will not meet minimum thresholds for ridership or corridor density needed to qualify for FTA commuter rail funding at this time. Further, from an FRA intercity rail perspective, the Bangor rail concepts do not provide a time competitive alternative to highway travel and do not address significant highway congestion in a corridor where there is none, nor does it connect major urban areas.

MaineDOT recommends working with the current bus operators in the corridor to provide some limited operational support for additional round trips within the corridor and/or adding additional stops or route deviations to provide more service to intermediate municipalities in the corridor. Further, better access within communities to the existing bus services within the corridor could also be accomplished by working with local transit operators to provide better or more frequent connections to existing intercity bus stops.

Rockland Branch Coastal Connection Service Extension Pilot MaineDOT continues to work with NNEPRA and Finger Lakes Railway on a passenger pilot on the state-owned Rockland Branch. The proposed 2-year pilot would provide daily service between Rockland and Brunswick using 80-passenger self-propelled diesel multiple unit (DMU) rail cars. The service would include stops in Bath, Wiscasset, Newcastle, and Rockland.

The purpose of the pilot is to determine overall ridership demand and identify seasonal variability in anticipation of a potential longer-term service.

Passenger Service to Montreal Across passenger rail advocates, there is interest in expanding the Downeaster and other passenger service to Bangor, Lewiston-Auburn, and Montreal, Canada.This proposed service to Montreal, like other passenger rail expansions, would need further feasibly analysis to determine benefits, costs, viability, potential ridership, and the level of public subsidy required for operations before inclusion in Maine Rail Service and Investment Plan.

why do you hate maine?

I don't?

[aryburn-trains]

Christmas Train by Citizen of the Galaxy Via Flickr: Here we see FGLK U23B No. 2201 bringing a 2009 season Santa special up the grade past a Martisco station decked out for the holidays. December 19, 2009

[takinpictsofroadsnrails]

Shortsville, NY (2011)

[light-yaers]

Right Where You Left Me: Chapter Eight

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, implied sexual content, flirting, eventual sexual content/smut, 18+

Listen to the RWYLM playlist here

A/N: just wait. just wait till the end. 

Word Count: 7.6k

Chapter Eight

You don’t remember Theo leading you out of the living room, but that’s exactly what he did. He treks you through the house gently, asking you where you want to go. 

 “Outside?” he asks, and you gently shake your head. “Kitchen?” he says, only to be met with another shake. 

“I need to pee,” you let out, almost unaware of how you’re able to create a coherent sentence currently. 

 “There’s one upstairs that’ll be quieter,” he suggests. “Can I get you a drink?” he offers, and you nod. 

 Only then, do you manage to look properly at him. 

 His eyes are so blue, even more so when you’re standing this close. Worn tortoise-shell glasses sit on the end of his swooping nose. His face is slender, with hollowed cheekbones but a nice smile. His hair is brunette, not as dark as Poe’s curls, but a lighter shade like tree bark. There are prickles of stubble on his chin, the beginnings of a beard growing. If he were to grow it out, he’d look like a Viking or a sailor. 

 “I’ll find you,” he reassures you, nodding at you strongly before he finally lets go of your wrist. You can feel the imprint of his soft fingers as you ascend the stairs, heading for the bathroom. 

 You pee in silence, but it’s really just an excuse to give yourself a few minutes alone. Music blares through the walls, an upbeat tune that you’re sure would get some of the lacrosse team moving. And Poe—maybe he’d join in. Or maybe he was still kissing her, touching her, holding her.

 You inhale abruptly, the kind of breath you force in before a wracking sob. You clutch a hand over your mouth, not knowing why this suddenly feels like the end of the fucking world. 

 You encouraged him to do this, encouraged him to branch out. Yet, actually seeing him with someone else, after the past few months and the history and the fucking lake and his eyes scanning you up and down and everything, everything, everything—

 It hurt. 

 It stung like a thousand wasp stings all over your fucking body. 

 You knew you had no right to be upset, no entitlement over who Poe could or could not fuck, unless it was you telling him no. Which you’d already done, and he’d more than respected your wishes; even agreeing to this stupid and idiotic game that you’d concocted as if that would suddenly make this all disappear. 

 Right now, you wanted to disappear. You wanted to blend in with the wallpaper, the carpet, be a wallflower like some forgotten girl at a high school dance. Even in your quickly imagined scenarios, Poe was at the forefront—

 He’d be dancing with some girl, or girls, or the boys. He’d be busting a move, tuxedo donned and droplets of sweat on his brow, but no one would make fun of him for it. They’d all be thinking the same thing; Poe Dameron is so fucking cool. 

 “Hey,” Theo wraps on the door gently, voice coming through from the other side. You look up, only to realise that tears have crawled their way down your cheeks. Wiping at them rapidly, you get yourself up and flush the toilet. 

 You unlock the door quickly, before heading to the sink. “You can come in,” you say lowly, sniffing away the snot that’s threatening to dribble from your nose. Pathetic. 

 Theo enters hesitantly, gently, clutching a solo cup in each hand as he shuts the door with his foot. It clicks shut as you wash your hands, intentionally refusing to meet his eye in the reflection of the mirror before you. 

 “I got you a beer,” he says, almost sweetly, prompting you to smile to yourself sadly. You finish washing your hands, leaning down on the sink with your wet hands. Slowly, you look up at your own reflection; dishevelled, upset, make-up down your cheeks in black lines resembling railway tracks in winter. 

 “Thanks,” you let out, before forcing yourself to turn to him. You take the cup from him, fingers ever so slightly meeting. Your hands are cold and wet in comparison to his; gentle, soft and warm. 

 “Do you... want to tell me what’s going on?” Theo asks, treading over the words carefully. You let out a shaky sigh, clutching your solo cup as you pass him and walk towards the bathtub. Lifting your leg up, you slot yourself into it, sitting down and leaning back until your legs are spread out. 

 You sip at your beer. “Not really,” you say, chuckling over the words as you imagine what the hell you look like. A mess, utterly. “I just wanna sit in this bathtub and enjoy this beer,” you add, trying desperately to be peppy as you shoot Theo a smile. All it does is make your eyes water again, filling up with more tears that, when you blink, cascade down your face like bombs falling from airships. 

 Theo regards you thoughtfully. There’s sympathy covering his entire face, his chest pumping with sadness as he realises that, maybe, it wasn’t just Poe he needed to protect—

 You. Maybe you needed a hand to hold through this all, too. 

 “Can I join you?” he asks softly, shooting you back an equally as solemn smile. You gesture to the toilet seat, like a magician would introduce their dazzling assistant. 

 “Be my fucking guest,” you say, stronger this time as the words fall from your lips. There’s no denying you’re positively inconsolable, for whatever reasons that your body is telling you. In your mind, you’re pelting yourself with insults of how you have no reason to be this way, no reason to be crying in a bathtub at a fucking party, while your best friend makes out with a hot girl downstairs. 

 “I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Theo starts, sitting on the toilet and leaned down towards you, solo cup in his grasp. “But... did something happen during Thanksgiving? Poe said no, but... I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like that if you’re—,” he sucks in a breath, carefully picking his words. “Like this,” 

 “A hot mess, you mean?” you let out, and it relaxes him immediately. That was your intention. He’s been nothing but kind, you didn’t want him to feel on edge for asking questions that obviously needed answers to them. 

 He chuckles softly, peering at you with a gentle gaze all the same. His stare doesn’t feel like Poe’s. It’s not intense, it doesn’t sting; it feels comforting. 

 “A massive hot mess,” he repeats, playfully.

 You lean back your head on the bathroom tile, tapping your cup. “Nothing happened on paper,” you admit. “But, things did happen, yeah,” you let out, and Theo nodded to himself. 

 “I thought as much,” 

 “No kissing, no sex,” you cut in, explaining the specifics. “But, there were definitely moments where... it was a very real possibility,” 

 “No kissing?” Theo asks, and all you do is nod. You don’t think about why he needed to double check. 

 Suddenly, you grimace at yourself. You clamp your eyes shut, letting out a sigh. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re Poe’s best friend,” 

 “No,” Theo says sternly, prompting you to look at him once more. His gaze has settled to the floor, mouth a harsh line. “You’re his best friend, it’s obvious. Ever since that night, he hasn’t stopped talking about you. He spilled everything to us the day after, the whole thing about the fight and the distance and whatever. I—I’d never heard Poe speak about anyone like that,” 

 All you can do is look at him like he’s crazy. That surely wasn’t true; couldn’t be. 

 “But—we hated each other for a good month,” you let out, desperately trying to understand. “Had fights constantly. It just made it all the more difficult for either of us to admit that we—,”

 “Missed each other?” Theo spoke over you, finishing your sentence. “Yeah, I know. Poe told me all about it,” he takes a large gulp of his beer, choosing to sit on the ground suddenly. He crosses his legs on the floor at the lip of the bathtub, leaning his chin down on an arm, draped over the edge. He looks you directly in the eye. 

 “Are you gay?” you ask suddenly, too drunk on beer and emotions to realise how invasive the question is, and Theo immediately bursts into laughter. The spluttering kind, the kind that comes from your belly. 

 “No,” he stutters out. “I’m not. Though, for Poe, I reckon any man who’s questioning their sexuality would get confused, right?” 

 “Probably. The guy looks like a Greek fucking god,” 

 He pauses for a moment, taking his time to find the words. “I love him though, sure. He’s been a close friend since last year, has always been there for me,”

 “Is that why you... protect him?” you question, and Theo’s gaze hits yours once more. He knows you’re talking about the little chat you had earlier, about staying away from Poe, about giving him space to figure out his feelings and get over you. 

 “I’m sorry for earlier,” he says immediately. You’d never known a man who was so fucking self-aware, who could so easily take accountability for his own actions—apart from Poe, maybe. “I thought I knew enough, but I guess you guys’ are a lot more complicated than I believed,” 

 You gulp down the rest of your beer as a thought comes to mind. 

 It can’t be, can it?

 “What you said, about Poe needing to get over me,” you start, forcing yourself to look into Theo’s steely eyes. “Has he said that he likes me? Not just as a friend, and not just for sex, I mean. Has he actually said that to you?” 

 Theo sucks in a breath, ready to answer—but the bathroom door bombards open before he can speak a word. You panic immediately, knowing that you look like a fucking mess and that word will travel like wildfire around the fucking lacrosse team.

 Word would get back to Poe in a heartbeat, only leaving you with more embarrassment. 

 Without warning, Theo leans in and plants his lips upon yours. His hand gently finds the back of your head, trailing down until his fingers land at the base of your neck. You close your eyes instinctually. 

 He kisses softly, not invasively, until the person at the door lets out an “Oh! Sorry!” and abruptly leaves.

 The door slams shut behind them, leaving the two of you alone again. Theo removes himself from you as soon as silence hits the room once more, shooting you an apologetic stare. “Sorry, sorry,” he speaks immediately. “I just thought, you probably wouldn’t want anyone seeing you vulnerable and shit,” 

 He’d guessed all that in a matter of milliseconds, just from seeing the expression on your face. 

 “Problem solved,” he offers, smiling awkwardly. “They didn’t see your face at all,” 

 You’re not awestruck from the kiss, but from the act itself. Someone had just been willingly kind to you; an effective stranger if not for Poe being the catalyst of you two knowing of each other. 

 “That was... really nice of you,” you let out, shocked. “Thank you,” you add, smally. 

 “You’re welcome,” Theo says, and your thoughts completely fly away from the sadness that had priorly consumed your body. 

 You hoist yourself up, standing in the centre of the tub. Theo follows suit, standing to full height and peering down at you. Gently, he offers you his hand. You take it and step out of the tub haphazardly, until your feet land on the bathmat. 

 “Ready to get back out there?” he suggests, and the smile that winds onto your face finally feels genuine. 

 “Do I look okay?” you ask, allowing yourself to stay in your vulnerability for just a second longer. Theo huffs jokingly, sticking out his fingers to swipe at a few stray strands of hair. 

 “Yeah,” he croaks softly. “You look more than okay,” he sounded like he really meant it. 

 And for the first time, in a long time, you left a hard conversation with a clarity that you hadn’t ever expected to feel. Fights with Poe never ended this way; this simply, this kindly. Sure, you were both as dramatic as each other, both capable of being honest but too stubborn for your own good to actually own up to anything important. 

 That was why you kept keep in circles, over and over. 

 If Poe didn’t want to play your game, he should have told you. 

 And you shouldn’t have made up the game in the first place. You should have realised that repressing your feelings, both of you, was a one-way ticket to both of you getting hurt; or worse. 

 You knew that now, thanks to Theo, thanks to seeing Poe with that girl. 

 You follow Theo down the stairs, always keeping close. You think he likes it that way, considering the way he stops and starts as you walk through people in the house, making sure that you’re still right behind him. 

 “Girl!” Heidi spots you as you enter the kitchen, her face dropping immediately when she sees the look on your face. Nothing could have hidden the blotchiness of your cheeks, even though Theo said you looked fine. 

 Heidi pushes through people around the island, until she’s face to face with you. Worry is stamped all over her face. “You and Poe talked?” she asks. Theo abruptly steps in, and you’re thankful for it. 

 “Not tonight,” he explains, and Heidi understands immediately. 

 “Where is he?” 

 “Sucking someone’s face in the other room still, probably,” you let out involuntarily, words forming by themselves on your tongue. It was supposed to be a joke, but it only sounded bitter. Heidi furrows her brows at you and you’re all too aware of Theo’s stare on your face. You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. Tonight was supposed to be a party, not a funeral,” 

 “Why would it be a funeral?” Heidi says, concern all over her words. 

 Because mine and Poe’s friendship ended just as it began again, maybe?

 “I want a beer,” you perk up quickly, looking at Theo with a smile. “Anyone else for a beer?” 

 It feels even worse when you realise all of your shit is still at Poe’s house. The only thing that makes you feel better is Theo, essentially tied at your hip for the rest of the night, until you both decide to leave together. 

 Back at his frat, you wobble up the stairs, drunk and still emotional despite having had time to calm down, only to arrive back in Poe’s empty room. You switch on the lamp, letting light settle on his posters and photos. It feels more foreign than when you were stood here hours earlier. 

 You change into comfortable clothes, wiping the make-up from your face and overanalysing your face in the mirror. Gently, you place your fingertips against your bottom lip. 

 Oh yeah, I kissed someone tonight. Not a proper one. Not for real. It didn’t count. 

 “I guess I lost,” you whisper to yourself. The game was over, and you were the clear loser. 

 Poe hadn’t been seen for the rest of the evening, not by you or Theo or Heidi. Whether that was you subconsciously staying away from him, you didn’t know. It could have easily been for other reasons; the assortment of empty and dark bedrooms available in Snap’s house, him leaving with her and going back to her place, etc, etc. 

 It didn’t matter. The damage was done; on both ends. 

 You shuffle out of Poe’s room, spotting Theo’s door open at the end of the hallway, the light on. You approach the door slowly, knocking on the frame. Theo mutters a soft come in and you don’t hesitate when you enter his room. 

 It’s bigger than Poe’s, tidier too. You thought frat boys were supposed to be gross and unruly, but Theo had proved himself to be good, inside and out, within the space of the evening. 

 He’s shirtless when you enter, changed into some soft sweatpants that drape over his hips snuggly. Your cheeks warm violently. “Oh—sorry,” you let out. Theo whips around to you.

 “No, no—it’s fine. I was just getting ready for bed,” he hits back. 

 “Yeah,” 

 “Yeah,” 

 The urge to look at his chest is overwhelming. There was something about the softness of a bare chest in low light, the strong lines that you saw in daylight simply weren’t the same; they were more comforting, gentler, softer, warmer. 

 When you blink, you see Poe on the dock at the lake, chest bare and shining in the moon light. You clamp your eyes shut, forcing away the image. 

 “Are you okay?” Theo rushes towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

 “Yeah, yeah,” you say painfully. “I just drank too much. The hangover is hitting early,” you chuckle at the end, but all it does is make your head throb even further. 

 Five minutes later and you’re sat on Theo’s mattress, sipping water from his bottle. It’s a little awkward, but not because of any sexual tension. It’s only awkward because of how vulnerable he’d seen you. Crying, weeping, make-up streaked down your fucking face. 

 It’s not awkward because he kissed you. In fact, the least awkward part about the whole ordeal was the kiss. It was nice, you couldn’t deny it. 

 “Can I ask one more question?” he starts lowly. 

 “Only if I’m allowed to lie down,” Theo smiles at that, nodding in approval as you lean back on his mattress, lying on your side and holding up your head with your head. “Fire away,”

 “Do you love him? I mean, have you ever loved him?” 

 Have I ever loved Poe Dameron?

 You gulp immediately as a wave of nostalgia hits you like a bus. In the space of seconds, you relive every moment, every memory, where you’d been certain you had. Whether it was platonic, or if the occasional romantic feeling bubbled up beneath your ribs when you got older. 

 The fight when you were fourteen, you knew you loved him then. You knew you had, because of how much it hurt to see him leave. 

 Throughout the years apart, you thought you’d moved on. His memory had plagued you sometimes, the subtle burning in your heart that was an obvious Poe sized hole, but you told yourself it was nothing more than a loss of friendship. 

 Only when you saw him again, drunk out of your mind after seven years apart, did the word love actually appear in your brain for the first time in years. The urge to stumble towards him and say “Poe Dameron. I love you. I always have,” had eaten at you for about three seconds, before the anger had taken hold of all your rational thinking. 

 But it was short-lived. Your fights, the hatred, those fleeting moments of possible romantic love had drifted away faster than you knocking back beers at that first party. Even more so during Thanksgiving, you were certain that it was nothing—

 Until he jumped into the fucking lake, and you were stupid enough to follow him into the abyss. 

 That was the first time sexual attraction and Poe had fit in the same sentence, in your mind. Despite all of Heidi’s comments beforehand, you’d thought her over-the-top and wrong, but you’d simply never seen it the way she did; until Poe was wet and topless and looking at your very naked body beneath see-through underwear. 

 Maybe you only wanted to think it was purely sexual; a desire to simply bang and that be that; not the emotions, not the feelings. Used to repressing all those feelings priorly, had you somehow made yourself unable to ever like Poe romantically? Platonically, sure, you definitely felt that. Sexually—of course, you felt that too. 

 But romance. Romance and Poe. Romance and Poe and you. 

 There was a wall blocking your view. 

 “Yes,” you finally say, swallowing down the urge to cry. “I think I have,” 

 “Still?” Theo urges softly. “Do you still love him?” 

 “I don’t know,” 

 “It’s just... your reaction after seeing him with someone else—,”

 “I know. I can’t explain it, if I’m being honest,” you understand why he’d think you do, but the word love isn’t screaming out at you right now. The words jealousy and anger and stupid fucking dickhead were, but you would never allow yourself to actually make that clear to Poe—he was perfectly within his right to do whatever he wanted. 

 “What about you?” you question Theo suddenly, and he recoils hesitantly. “What do you see when you look at me and Poe?” 

 Theo takes a moment, formulating his answer. When he finds it, he huffs playfully. 

 “Untapped potential,” 

 Poe arrives back the next morning, fresh faced despite the obvious lack of sleep and masses of dehydration from the night before. Theo stirs in his room, hearing the lacrosse captain let out an enthusiastic “Hello? Anyone home? Anyone alive?” throughout the house.

 “In here,” Theo says, but his reluctance is noticeable. 

 You left a few hours ago, after staying up most of the night talking. Theo loved Poe, that was for certain, but meeting you properly had swayed his view of the captain. Things had been said, bad and good, and his opinion had been compromised. 

 That didn’t stop him loving Poe, it just made him more aware of you. 

 Poe clambers up the stairs quickly, almost tripping over the top step, before he bounds to Theo’s room. He taps on the frame, already pushing the door open. “Hey, you up?” he asks, but he’s already poking his head around the door to see his housemate, sat up in bed and rubbing his eyes. 

 “I’m alive,” Theo croaks. 

 “So am I!” Poe lets out, obviously riding the coattails of the sex he’d just had. “That girl, did you see her? The blonde one, with the,” Poe stops talking just to claw at the air. “Long nails. That one,” 

 “Yeah, I saw her,” 

 “When did you leave? I didn’t see you for the rest of the night,” Poe talks at a thousand miles per hour. “Wait, what about—?” 

 “We came back together last night, she was—really drunk,” Theo lets out, smiling to himself. Despite the antics, the tears, and everything in between, he’d genuinely enjoyed spending the night with you. “She left a few hours ago,” 

 “Oh,” Poe exhales, his shoulders obviously slumping. “Cool,” it was obvious that he wasn’t cool with that. “I’ll just give her a text, or something,”

 “Yeah,” Theo replies, noticing the sudden drop in Poe’s expression. He brings his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it where he got a crick while talking with you all night. “Listen, Poe—,”

 “Did she seem off to you last night?” he bursts, and all of a sudden it’s pouring out of him like water from a faucet. “I tried to stay away for her sake, you know? I didn’t expect her to act so worried. Should I have done it? Or should I have straight up said okay, wait. I’m a man, I can’t just switch this shit off. I still have sexual feelings for you that are eating me alive—,”

 “Poe,” Theo cuts over him, stronger this time. Poe stops speaking, rambling, and finally peers down at his friend. The look on Theo’s face says it all. 

 That’s exactly what you should have said. 

 “Fuck,” Poe whispers, bringing his hands to his face and streaming his fingers down his cheeks. “It’s fine,” he croaks. “It’s fine, I’ll fix it,” 

 Poe Dameron always tried to fix the unfixable. 

 You wake in your bed to your phone buzzing. You don’t move at first, too comfortable and still reeling from everything that occurred just a few hours prior, but on the third buzz you know it’s him. 

 i won, by the way. 

 when shall i collect my prize? 

 i’ll ask you randomly, just to make it more interesting.

 You want to throw your phone across the room, but all you can fathom is your hands shaking with subtle anger. You’re once again hit with knowing that you have nothing to be angry about, nothing to cry for, yet you can’t help it. 

 Just the image of Poe with someone else made your blood boil. 

 Another buzz. 

 are you okay? theo said you got really drunk last night.

 The smallest of smiles slaps you across the face. Theo didn’t spill anything, thank God. 

 For a minute or so, you contemplate telling him. It would be simple, a text message straight to him that just explained everything. Outlined your apology, outlined your feelings about seeing him with someone else, an admission of still not being over other feelings that you’d repressed for the past seven years. 

 Sent in the blink of an eye, through the network, bouncing immediately off some satellite until it landed right in Poe’s gentle hands—everything that you wanted to say, that you wanted him to know. Your mind wanders, as you imagine the outcome. 

 He’d run over here immediately, wearing the same clothes as last night and stinking of a one night stand, but that only told you that he couldn’t wait; couldn’t wait to see you, to tell you everything from his side, to apologise until his throat stopped working. 

 Through the fog of your make believe, you see the real outcome. If you kept this up, kept up this weirdness, then you’d simply lose him altogether. He’d emerged from his strange, avoidant behaviour from last night, which was the first step to just forgetting it had ever happened. Forgetting his lips pressed against someone else, chest to chest, hands all over her.

 Forget it. 

 You sit up in bed, ignoring the obvious dizziness of your head, before you start typing a response.

 All good. I got royally fucked (but only by the beer (not like you, hot shot)). Theo became my guardian angel for the night while you were off giving some girl an STD, probably. No truth or dare for the next week, at least. I won’t be able to take the shame. 

 well, damn. someone’s hungover.

 All that will save me now is a bucket of coffee and a Friends rewatch.

 give me twenty minutes. i’ll bring popcorn.

 No way in hell. I don’t want the smell of sex drifting around my tiny room.

 jealousy looks great on you, by the way.

 Does it, Poe? Did it look good last night? 

 I didn’t completely fail the game, you know. 

 You cave in. 

 that’s cryptic as fuck. just the tip?

 You’re disgusting. I had a smooch. 

 see! what did i tell you. confidence is key.

 What makes you think I used any of your moves?

 He takes a few minutes to respond. You don’t know why. It makes you oddly anxious. 

 congratulations. knew you had it in you.

 You could tell he was lying from a goddamn mile away. You don’t reply, not knowing what else you can add to this conversation. Poe stays silent after that last message, and you both get on with the rest of your day. 

 You don’t see him until lacrosse practice, two days later. 

 When you do, the urge to act so unbothered hits you like a truck. He’s smiling so wide as you appear on the field, behind the other girls with Jessika leading the pack. Throughout the sea of women, he only has eyes for you again. 

 Jogging himself over, you suck in a breath as he cuts through two girls in front of you, playfully knocking into your shoulder when he stops and gets into stride with you. 

 “Hello, stranger,” he says, obviously happy to see you. 

 “Hot shot,” you look at him smugly, almost disapprovingly. Taking on Heidi’s nickname of him was one of your favourite inside jokes. “Does she know yet?” she being the poor girl he shagged.

 “Know what?”

 “That you gave her chlamydia?” 

 The scoff that Poe lets out sounds like he’d been holding it in for two years. Maybe he’d missed your humour over the past 48 hours, but you weren’t expecting such a warm welcome from the lacrosse captain. Not after everything before and after Snap’s party. 

 “No, of course not,” he starts. “Why would I ever tell her that? She’d hate me,” 

 “Very true. And no one hates you, right?” 

 “I’m universally un-hated,” 

 “Mhm,” you hum instinctually. Poe glances at you then, irises shooting from one of your eyes to the other and back again, back and forth, back and forth, like he’s trying to decode a secret message from within them. 

 “Who did you smooch, then, huh?” he chides, changing the subject, as you both approach the centre of the field. 

 You breathe out, acting unbothered. “Some guy. Can’t remember,” 

 “I sense bullshit,” 

 “I was fucked, okay? I was seeing double. There’s no way I would ever remember his name or his face,” 

 Poe coughs softly. “Was he good?” 

 You’re stumped by his question, as it rockets towards you out of the blue. The way he asked it makes your stomach drop; the kind of drop where you’re certain the butterflies are about to invade again. But you keep them at bay. You play it up. 

 “He was a good kisser. That’s all I can remember,” 

 “Maybe you’re the good kisser,” Poe says suddenly, and the butterflies enter your gut in full force. You hold your breath and widen your eyes, one more comment away from scolding him for bringing it up again; but you don’t want that. Not after it went so wrong the first time. 

 Poe’s face drops into a panic, so he continues. “All I’m saying is, I bet, when you’re drunk and less worried about confidence, you might become a good or better kisser, you know? Inhibitions gone. Only your heart and horniness to guide you,” 

 “Is this you talking from experience?” you chide, amused not just from the way Poe was inwardly panicking, but from the subject matter as well. “I bet you make girls fill out a little quiz after having sex with you,” 

 “I have a 99.9% success rate,” 

 “Of what? Spreading sexual infections?” 

 “Of making girls finish,” he says it so plainly that you almost don’t compute the words, until a smug smile takes over his entire face and you know he said it on purpose. Just to mess with you, to test the waters of your relationship after Thanksgiving, to have a laugh, maybe—but you’re not laughing. 

 You’re dying. 

 You’re utterly decaying inside to the point where you can feel the butterflies spread throughout every organ of your body. Fluttering, screaming, swimming in your veins as you feel every prick of a hair standing up, every flow of the breeze over your skin, the warmth of Poe stood next to you. 

 After a few seconds of internal freak out, you force yourself to speak. You clear your throat beforehand, constantly putting one foot in front of the other to stay in time with the man next to you. 

 “It’s hardly a success if you’re doing the bare minimum,” you respond finally. Poe perks a brow at you; fighting talk. He likes it. You wish he didn’t. 

 “Bare minimum, huh? What would you suggest I do, then?” 

 Nope. Too far. Now he’s really toying with me. 

 “Shut up and play the game,” you let out through an obviously clenched jaw. 

 “Which game? Your game?” 

 “No,” you say bluntly, before speeding up until you reach the pile of lacrosse sticks. You pick two up, abruptly throwing one at Poe before you. He catches it easily, but he flinches slightly at your speed. “This game,” 

 “Fine,” he says, smiling at you mischievously. “Bring it on,” 

 You were done playing it safe. Poe kept getting away with playing dirty because you couldn’t refuse him, but that could work both ways. The ball could fully well be in your court again, if you tried his own tactics.

 It was obvious, despite not bringing up Thanksgiving, that he was trying to get you worked up. Poe was flirty by nature, but with you there was the added history, the fact that you knew each other like the back of each other’s hands. Had you always worked this way? Sat on the line between friends and flirting? 

 Or was it just a recent thing?

 When Friday night rolls around, you know it’s Heidi’s time to know. 

 “You had me worried, girl,” Heidi says, eating a pot noodle, crossed legged on your bed. You’re trying to read a book for college, but it’s not going very well. “I’ve never seen you look that sad, and about a man? Fucking awful,” 

 “It’s not a big deal. It’s fine,” you say, eyes scraping over the words on the pages but none of them going in. “Poe and I are just peachy,” you let out the words like it hurts you. Heidi suspends her noodle covered fork over the container, grimacing at you like you’re a bug on her shoe. 

 “You’re such a liar. It’s a miracle your nose hasn’t fallen off with how much you fucking lie—,”

 “Okay, okay,” you cut her off, smiling. You close your book, knowing that there’s no point in trying. Not when she’s like this. Not when you still need to tell her everything. “Are you comfortable? Because it’s a stupidly long story that’s gonna take at least two hours to spell out to you fully,” you admit. 

 Heidi finishes her current bite, putting down her noodles and standing quickly. “I’ll get the beers,” 

 She gets the beers, and you tell her everything. 

 The lake, the confessions, the attraction, and everything from Thanksgiving. Your convoluted game, Poe’s avoidance, and seeing him at Snap’s party with another girl. Theo pulling you aside, crying in the bathroom, and all the stuff that lay beyond that awful night. 

 Lacrosse practice. His suggestive and obvious flirtatious behaviour still. 

 There was so much to unpack to her, that the two of you finished all the beers before you even completed the story. A trip to the store is needed. 

 “I forgot my ID,” she lets out. “You’ll have to go alone, girl. Campus security are still on my ass about the stolen golf club,” 

 “The stolen what?” you exclaim. Heidi finishes the final beer, looking at you like a dog that got caught eating some homework. 

 “Nothing,” 

 You make the trip to the store on your own, wrapping up warm as the winter air fully sets in. There’s less than a month till Christmas, less than a month until you and Poe will be back together in a family setting—Shara had been in contact with your mom, certain that her and Poe would join you for Christmas Day and New Years.

 It was nice, you couldn’t deny it. The full circle narrative of Poe finally coming back to you, of you being friends again. Best friends, maybe. 

 You enter the store, heading for the fridges at the back with all the booze. You don’t have any plans tonight, besides filling in Heidi and getting drunk. It’s almost nice having a night in, away from boys and frats and drama. All the works. 

 Opening the fridge, you pick up a six pack and cradle it in your arm. As if by magic, when you close the fridge—he’s right there. 

 Poe and Theo, at the other end of the aisle. 

 You freeze on the spot, widening your eyes as the two of them, hands in pockets and eyes low, stroll down the aisle and talk to each other in soft whispers. You start stepping back slowly, carefully, trying to be as invisible as possible so they don’t spot you. You’re really not in the mood for small talk, especially with them. 

 Right before you go free, Theo abruptly exclaims “You said what to her?” 

 You crash into the beef jerky display immediately, packets falling to the floor and piling up as the noise traverses the entire fucking store. Poe sees you first, catches your eye before you can run away from the mess you just made. Theo smiles at you immediately, but it’s laced with an awkward uncertainty.

 “Hey!” he lets out, despite the obvious awkwardness. They were talking about you, you knew it. It’s written all over Poe’s face, that deer in headlights look that you’d seen a thousand times. “Fancy seeing you here,” 

 “You sound like we’re in a British sitcom,” you say, coming forward and going for the joking route. Theo laughs awkwardly. 

 “Ha... sorry,” Theo says, before shooting at look at Poe; still frozen. 

 “Going out tonight?” you chide, noticing a pack of White Claw in Theo’s hand. 

 “Oh, no—just, games night, or football, or something,” he lists, and this has quickly become the most awkward conversation of your entire life. You don’t know why Poe is acting so silent and weird when you were flirting and bantering to oblivion only two days before. 

 Maybe that’s why. 

 “Are you?” Poe speaks, finally, breaking open the tension like a burst dam. 

 “Am I what?” 

 “Going out tonight,” 

 “No,” you say, lifting the beers into view. “Heidi and I ran out,”

 “Heidi,” Poe says, shifting his tone. He knows. He absolutely knows that you’ve told her everything. “How’s that going?” 

 “She hasn’t exploded, so I’d say pretty well,” you admit. 

 “Where did you get to?” he chides, and you feel so overexposed and vulnerable that it’s insane. The three of you here know the entire story, the tragedy that is yours and Dameron’s long and arduous situation-ship. 

 “Almost at the end, actually,”

 “The end,” Poe mutters, joined by one, abrupt chuckle. “I didn’t know there was an end, yet,”

 “Yeah, well,” you start, breathing out shakily, before forcing yourself to glue your gaze on his eyes. “I don’t know a lot of things, Poe,” 

 That was a dig, a major one. Theo shoots you a thoughtful look, before glancing back at Poe’s acknowledging, but confused, face. Why won’t he just say it? Ask the question, ask all he wants knowing. You’d happily tell him everything, the entire truth, no lies. 

 You just don’t know how to. Don’t know where to start, don’t know if it would ruin everything that you’d managed to piece together again. 

 You send him a smile, but it’s not your finest work; it’s laced with sadness, with confusion, with residual emotions from the party. “I better go,” you let out, taking a few steps back. Theo raises a hand in goodbye. 

 “It was nice to see you again,” he replies, shooting you another awkward and apologetic smile; as if he’d been the one to ruin your evening. 

 “See you,” you mutter, but you’re already walking away. You pay immediately, fumbling when you show the cashier your ID and tap your card on the reader as fast as humanly possible. 

 You start speed walking as soon as you leave the store, rounding the parking lot until you reach the small alleyway that directs you back to the student dorm buildings. It’s only a five-minute walk, even less, yet you’re so on edge that you can hardly stand it. 

 At the other end of the alley, you emerge onto a courtyard within the dorm buildings. You cross it quickly, keeping the beer flush to your chest, until you head around the back of your building. One last corner and you’re free and safe. 

 You turn it quickly, swivelling on your heels with confidence—

 “Hey!” Poe yells directly in your face, and you scream like a girl in a horror film. Your body coils into a ball immediately, dropping to the floor in a squat while you try to protect yourself from the ambush. 

 You think he might laugh, might have done that as a fucking joke or something, but no. Gently, he squats down opposite you, concern all over his face. 

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I didn’t think I’d scare you that much, I’m sorry—,” he rattles on and on, flickering soft fingers on your knees and trembling arms. 

 When you calm down enough to take in a solid breath, you force yourself to look in his eye. You drop the six pack on the floor, holding your head in your hands as your body lets out stuttering chuckles of shock. 

 “I’m sorry,” Poe says again, but that’s when you snap. You smack him on the shoulder, not at full pelt, but just to get across how fucking mad you are at him. 

 “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

 “A lot of things,” he says simply. 

 “Why would you fucking do that?”

 “I don’t know. I don’t know,” another smack, but he simply takes your wrists within his fingers, bringing your freezing and trembling hands to his lips. His breath is warming, welcoming. “I’m sorry, please forgive me,” 

 You calm down enough to let out a sigh, his eyes on yours the entire time.

 Gently, he gets up from the floor, hoisting you up with him. He doesn’t let go of your hand, despite you both standing at full height. You catch his eye, trying desperately to understand his thoughts—it’s been impossible since Thanksgiving. You couldn’t get a handle on him. 

 All of your senses dial to one hundred; you’re fully focused on him. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, and it’s not a question, it’s a gentle demand. “Right now, all of it. Tell me,” 

 “What?”

 “You heard me,” he’s stern, but being stern when it came to your feelings made your cheeks warm violently. This was care of the highest order. This was him trying. “Tell me what’s wrong, because I know something isn’t right,” 

 You’re speechless. The air has been ripped from your lungs, replaced by those fluttering butterflies again. 

 “Nothing’s wrong,” you mumble.

 Before you even finish, Poe says “Bullshit. Stop lying to me,” 

 “Me stop lying to you? That’s really rich coming from you, Poe,” you start, as you feel your chest compress. You try and pull your hands away from him, but all he does is grip tighter, holding your palms over his chest. Poe sighs.

 “Okay, so I lie sometimes. I do it when I feel it’s the lesser of two evils—,” 

 “How is it the lesser when this is the outcome?” you burst. “I feel like a crazy person, Poe. Every fucking day this week, I’ve woken up not knowing how to approach you. I thought we were friends—,”

 “We are friends,” he cuts over you strongly. “You’re my—fuck—my best fucking friend, okay? That’s why I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” 

 “Nope,” your stubbornness overtakes you, careening you further towards a ditch instead of a destination. “If you keep lying to me then I’m not gonna be open with you,” 

 Classic. 

 Poe latches onto your gaze, breathing shakily through his nose, in and out. “Fine,” he says, and you can feel a mixture of anger and sadness and hurt, and his own stubbornness laced within. 

 You acknowledge his silence, huffing to yourself. “Got nothing else to say—?”

 “Truth or dare,” he says, you roll your eyes instinctively. 

 “God—you can’t be fucking serious—,”

 “I am. Truth or dare. You promised,” he leans in closer, desperately trying to get you to cooperate with him. 

 You promised. 

 That’s what got you. That’s what you’d said to him, and he’d kept his word. It was your turn to hold true, even if that meant indulging in a childish game. You could still mix it up a bit, still piss him off after all of this. 

 And besides, you didn’t have to pick truth. He wouldn’t so easily get everything out of you that way. No way. 

 “Truth or dare?” he repeats, and you can’t refuse him again, not when he’s looking at you so softly, but with a demand and fervour that made your gut coil. 

 “Dare,” you say strongly. 

 You think you’ve got him, think he’s going to combust because you didn’t say the one thing he wanted you to. He can’t ask any deep questions, can’t demand you to tell him what’s wrong again and again and again—

 “Kiss me,” 

 You freeze at his words. 

 “What?” it comes out as a whisper. 

 “You heard me,” Poe says breathlessly, gently. “Kiss me,” 

 This was the catch. Poe was a good guy. If you said no, dislodged yourself from him, then he would never force you to actually kiss him. But you haven’t done that. You’re too busy feeling the pump of his heart beneath his chest and the blood rushing to your ears. 

 This was a test. You knew it was, but that didn’t change how you felt. 

 That didn’t change the instinctual reaction that coursed through your entire body at the mere sound of his request—

 Kiss him. 

 “If you want to,” he whispers, so light and so gentle and so soft that you’re not even sure you hear it. He’s ducked his head down so you have to look up at him, face to face, almost nose to nose. Only now do you realise how close you are to him, flushed against him just like before; with your arms and legs wrapped around him in the lake. “Kiss me,” he says finally. 

 Even after all this time, some part of you, deep, deep down beneath all the damage and decay and pain; still cannot refuse Poe Dameron 

 You rise on your toes, wrapping your arm around his neck without hesitation—

 You kiss him. 

 And he kisses you back. 

Tag List: @noctem-vincere​ @browneyes-issac​ @theidiotsincontrol​ @harrys-tittie​ @leithatnight​ @iridian-darkbloom​ @angellicpraises​ @philiasoul​ @oscarisaaclover​ @20th-centu-fairy-girl​ @sunflowerfive​ @mikaylabtzk​ @dearvirtualdiary​ @xxladysquishyxx​ @bathwatergoblin​ @imyour-joy @ayslinstrk​ @stevengrants0wife​ @marc-spectorr​ @theblogofdurin​ @lockleysgrl​

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Alright y’all, I’ve got a new traumatic update for my lovely dear hearts who are committed to the tragic Shakespearean play that is my chaotic life <3

So, as some of you may know, I was recently offered an amazing job in Middle-earth New Zealand, in a beautifully scenic region (‘Tis around Lake-town/Erebor for all those who must know), where I’m literally getting paid to work with the stars in an Archaeoastronomy role — AKA my dream gig since I was a baby pre-teen obtaining my galactic fixation after watching Guardians of the Galaxy in 2014.

Great! Awesome! This will be a grand adventure! Somewhere I belong! Middle-earth! Hasta la vista to all those hunting me down and attempting to make my life miserable! Adios! Sayonara! There’s even a university nearby that offers my dream course!

Ecstatic, I start rummaging through my trunk to find my passport, as all I’ve got to do is take it to the post office to get my legal name on it updated and…

Wait a minute…

Shit.

Fuck.

Guess who left their motherfucking passport at their fucking mother’s house, 4,000 miles away in a place I’m literally exiled from?

That’s right. Me. I need to move overseas but have no passport.

No big deal, I’ll go get another one.

Big deal.

Despite being TWENTY FUCKING YEARS OLD, I still need my parents to help me get a new passport, as well as a driver’s license, which is currently, uh…✨suspended✨ thanks to me taking “pedal to the metal” too literally upon fleeing my state.

So. I’m trapped. Stuck on an island, and my home state’s borders just opened which means you know who can come here at any damn time.

I can’t legally drive until July again, and I need my license to help get a new passport, but then I also need someone who’s known me for at least a year to sign it as a guarantor, and I have no contact with anyone I’ve ever known for safety reasons.

Middle-earth is slipping through my fingers like sand, and I’m trying to rack my brain for alternatives, but it looks like I’m gonna be a slave to this railway for a good long while yet :)

The bard is down, folks, I repeat: the bard is down.

Me, @ the universe and all this shitty character development they’re giving me:

Anyone wanna see a chronological list of all the shit that’s happened in the last 6 months alone?