#so I’m hoping it stops feeling like my life is over sooner rather than later

[bambino1294]

the absolute severity of the change in my ability to work quickly post-covid is insane

[collapsedglasshouses]

HOTEL NEIGHBORS || Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader

PHOTO CREDIT: Bryan Kirks

SUMMARY: After you hear Noah talk about liking experienced women, you can't help but feel insecure about yourself. Noah wants nothing but to lift your spirits.

WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, friends to lovers, inexperienced reader, slight ? dom!noah i guess, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected p in v (dont do that), slight mutual pining?, not edited oopsie, ...

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6

A/N: This idea planted itself in my head last night and I don't even know what to say anymore. I’m more than stressed because of university, but I hope my creative spark is coming back rather sooner than later. Is anyone actually reading what I say here. If you're reading this say hi in the comments, ily. Please, enjoy and consider reblogging if you liked it.

You didn’t exactly know you had gotten into this situation but at this exact moment you were shifting in your place and wanted nothing more but to vanish into thin air.

You were currently sitting in a hotel lobby, exhausted and tired from the show the boys had played, and waited for Matt to hand you the keys to your hotel rooms. Somehow in the course of the last ten minutes, the conversation between the guys had turned. They were talking about previous relationships and the experience it came with since Folio had been freshly separated from his ex-girlfriend.

“I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I just want someone with more experience, you know? I’m not saying I wouldn’t date anyone who doesn’t have much experience but I just-… I don’t know. You know what I mean, Noah?” Folio rambled and looked at the man next to you in hopes to find confirmation.

“Yeah, I know. I prefer women with experience, too. I guess.” Noah just mindlessly mumbled while looking at his phone.

You knew for sure the boys didn’t say this in an ill intend but somehow this exchange began to bother you more than you wanted it to. In all honesty, it felt like a punch straight to your face. You felt stupid that this simple exclaim from Noah got to you, but you couldn’t really help it. It wasn’t like you never had sex. You had a boyfriend that you dated from high school to about two years ago, but when it came to your sex life it felt like you never really experienced anything. You knew almost everything that only concerned you, but when it came to another person being involved, your knowledge stopped. You knew what you liked and what you disliked. But that didn’t make the conversation you just witnessed any less hurtful.

You swallowed hard before standing up from your waiting seat in a rather fast manner.

“Imma head to the bathroom.” You mumbled so quietly you feared nobody would have heard you, before walking away. You didn’t see how Noah looked after you with a confused facial expression.

You slammed the door shut behind you and stared at your reflection in the fancy bathroom mirror. Your eyes were watery and you hated yourself for that. Especially Noah’s sentence echoed in your head and you hated that you had a weak spot for him. You hated that you got along with him too well for your liking. When the band hired you as an assistant for Matt about a year ago, you hadn’t planned that all of this would happen. You thought you were there for only one tour and now you were already on your third with the band. To your astonishment, you got along wonderfully with everyone, but you and Noah had a special bond. You didn’t know what it was exactly but somehow you repeatedly found yourself in deep conversations about literally everything with him. It took you well over six months to realize that you didn’t just simply like him as a friend, but you were starting to fall for him.

Right now, you hated yourself that you never got brave enough to admit it to him. You always acted like nothing had changed and you felt embarrassed about the fact that a small sentence like that could throw you off so bad when you didn’t have the right to act like that about it.

A couple of minutes passed before you had enough courage to head back to the boys. So, you took a deep breath and wiped away the single tear that had managed to escape, before stepping out of the bathroom again. Gladly, you didn’t have to justify your sudden move as Matt approached the group at the same time as you to hand you the keys.

“Finally, I thought we needed to sleep in the lobby.” You managed to say with a lopsided smile while Matt handed you your key.

While your group headed in the elevator, you took up a small conversation with Matt about things that had happened at tonight’s show, before he headed out together with the others. The only two left in the elevator being, of course, you and Noah.

“Looks like we’re neighbors tonight.” He answered you with a sweet smile after looking at your key for a second.

“Cool.” You tried to exclaim as friendly as possible and cringed for your second. Even the most unempathetic person on this planet would have realized that something was going on with you, but you were glad Noah decided to not talk about it as you walked to your rooms.

A couple of hours later, you were finished with your evening and ready to go to sleep but before you could slip under the blankets, you heard a slight knock on your door. For a second, you considered to just ignore it but when it knocked again, you sighed and opened the door just enough to look who was disturbing your peace at these ungodly times.

You were greeted by Noah with a worried expression on his face. For a second, you just looked at him confused, but he was fast to explain, while you opened the door a little more.

“Tell me what I did. You’ve been ignoring literally all my texts for more than three hours at this point.” He exclaimed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Of course, he was right about his statement. You had seen his texts. Normally, you’d test about the concert or some random stuff until you were both to sleepy to respond, but you had decided you couldn’t deal with him this evening. Not after you got so emotional because of a stupid sentence.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You lied and mirrored his gesture.

He lifted his eyebrow, and you already know he wouldn’t let you out of that conversation until you gave him the answers he wanted. “Gaslight someone else, sweetheart.” He grumbled.

You sighed and looked at your hands. “It’s nothing, Noah.”

“Oh, come on. You know nothing you is unimportant.” He encouraged you.

It felt stupid. Stupid how easy it was to open up to him, but you knew you couldn’t just tell him what’s been on your mind, so you simply shook your head. You were about to close the door, when he reached into the doorframe and pressed himself in your room while you protested.

“Y/n. Seriously, what’s going on?” He muttered in a soft tone while sitting down on your bed. He patted the place next to him. When you sat down, he turned to fully face you and touched your shoulder. “Please talk to me.”

“I really can’t, Noah.” You whispered. “It’s so fucking stupid.”

You felt so dumb, you wanted to slap yourself. You didn’t want this to go bad. You hated your feelings for choosing him. For opening up to him. For becoming so close with him. You remembered how you had joked with Matt about how everyone would eventually fall for THE lead singer and how you said Noah is just a really good friend and now look at you. Unable to even look him straight in the face.

“Did I say something?” Noah wanted to know, and you briefly looked at him. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer in fear you would crack. You looked at his shirt to calm your thoughts but that was when you noticed his neckline and your thoughts instantly began to wander.

“You never not tell me anything.” Noah urged.

“Why are you so desperate?” You asked him in slight annoyance and swept his hand of your shoulder.

He blinked surprised for a couple of seconds before answering you. “Because you can’t even look at me and I don’t like that.”

Your heart jumped with happiness when you heard that confession, even if it was innocent.

“That’s not true.” – “Then look at me.”

You sighed before forcing your eyes onto his for a second just to look away again.

“See?” He mumbled, defeated. “I’m sorry if I said something that upset you. I didn’t mean it.”

“So, you didn’t mean you liked girls with experience better than others?” You spat out before you could even think about it more and instantly regretted it.

Noah opened and closed his mouth in confusion. He knew about your previous experiences or lack of experience.

“See that’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. It is dumb.” You tried to brush off what had just happened, but Noah shook his head.

“No, no, no. It’s not dumb. I didn’t mean it like that, I-…” He began to explain but you just sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Just stop, Noah.” You mumbled and laid down on your bed. “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow is another stressful day.”

“N-no… I really didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t even paying attention to Folio. I-… I don’t care about experience, Y/N. I consider myself lucky if anyone gets close to me at the moment. I’m a stressed mess, you know.” Noah rambled out and you noticed that he was nervous. You couldn’t really think about why.

“Oh c’mon. Everyone would consider themselves lucky to sleep with you, Noah. And you fucking know that.” You joked halfheartedly, but then a smile crept onto his face.

“You too?” He asked with a broad smirk on his face.

“Huh?” You huffed as your eyes grew wide.

“I mean… I know you are worried about not having too much experience… I just-…” He swallowed hard. “I could… help with that.”

“You wanna have sex with me?” You bluntly asked your friend and felt your heart almost exploding in your chest.

“I-… You know, we-… I-…” He began to stutter for a second but then he saw how nervous you looked and stopped in his tracks. “So, you wanna have sex with me.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and you swallowed hard. “Uh… I…”

“Forget it, you don’t have to answer th-…” – “Actually, I do.”

Your voice was not more than a whisper while your thoughts were racing. You just blankly confessed that to him, because you were tired. Tired of holding back.

“You are joking, right?” Noah mumbled; his mouth slightly open.

“Oh, come on. As if this comes as a surprise. There are literally people writing fanfiction about you.” You said and ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

“And you know that why?” He exclaimed and smiled lopsidedly.

Your eyebrows rose for a second when you realized what you had said.

When you didn’t answer, he spoke again. “So, you wanna have sex with me?”

“Trust me, with each word coming out of your mouth, the urge is getting less and less.” You answered him and rolled your eyes. His smile faded slightly, and he looked you deep in the eyes.

“Would you feel better if I told you I’ve thought about it, too?” He exclaimed and the tone of his voice shot straight to your core. This didn’t feel real.

“Yeah… Yeah that would help.” You mumbled and swallowed hard, not knowing how to proceed.

A second later, Noah was hovering over your, his face only a couple of inches away from you and you felt how the atmosphere in the room changed.

“You really wanna do this?” He asked you as your hands travelled to the hem of your shirt. You nodded.

“Tell me, you want this.” He almost pleaded with you.

“I want you to fuck me, Noah. For god sake, should I write it down for you?” You whisper-shouted against his lips and with that he giggled quietly before kissing your lips with such force that you realized he wasn’t joking. You grabbed his face and pulled him even closer to you. It felt like you two grasped onto everything. It felt like you were each other’s last meal. Like you were starved for so long, you couldn’t control it anymore.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him down towards your core that was only clothed in your underwear, and you could feel how hard he was. You couldn’t help but grind against him. He slightly moaned into your mouth as your tongues danced with each other and you moved your hips again.

“Stop that.” He suddenly groaned against your mouth, and you began to grin. “What if I don’t?”

“Then I’m not going to go easy on you, sweetheart.” He warned you. It didn’t take a second for you to grind against him one more time, while smiling proudly about what a hard time he had with you.

“You’re going to regret that.” He mumbled and grabbed your hips with his hand firmly. This alone almost made you cum. It felt like something in him snapped. His pupils were blown wide with lust and then he was underdressing you. It was like he was ripping you out of your clothes.

When he reached your underwear, he stopped for a second and looked at you for reassurance. It was the last chance for you to tell him, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to stop.

“I trust you.” You breathed out and bucked your hips for a second.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for his, Y/n.” He answered you as he slowly slipped down your underwear. He didn’t waste any time after that and only a few kisses later to your stomach, you felt how his tongue moved through your folds. A soft moan escaped your mouth and you arched your hips to possibly get any closer to him.

Your hands found their way in your hair. It wasn’t the first time someone went down on you, but never before had it felt so intense to you.

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one arm and his tongue was devouring you like it was the last thing he would do. The sounds you were making only made him go harder. Then you felt how he added a finger inside of you, quickly followed by another.

“Oh my-… Fuck, Noah.” You gasped and you felt the vibrations of his laugh against your core. You felt a knot building inside of you and you tried to concentrate on anything that would help you not to come instantly.

“I can feel that you’re close.” He mumbled against you and flicked his tongue over your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of you.

You nodded, unable to form clear words without moaning them.

“I know, you can go longer than that, Y/n.” He hummed against you, and you felt like you were going insane.

“God, please.” You cried out, fearing you couldn’t hold it any longer.

His mouth and fingers felt so good, you were sure you couldn’t help yourself much longer. You felt your orgasm built up and then-… He stopped. He pulled away from you, his fingers out of your pussy and you whined at the loss of contact.

He grabbed your face with the hand that had been inside of you just seconds before and looked you in the eyes. “When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock.”

“You know, it’s kind of unfair that I’m laying here completely naked while you’re fully clothed.” You breathed out with a small smile on your face.

“Oh, yeah?” He laughed against your lips before climbing of the bed to get out of his clothes. His eyes never left yours and yours never left his.

He was in nothing but his underwear, his cock hard underneath them and you bit your lip as his hands hooked under the waistband and he slowly slit them off. Your eyes slowly widened at the sight of his member, and you suddenly realized that all of this was real. He looked so perfect. All of him.

“You still okay?” He asked as he crawled back to you.

“Yes.” You breathed out when he was on top of you again. He leaned down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as if he belonged there.

“Noah, please.” You moaned out and let your hands roam over his back.

“Yes?” He teased you and rocked his hips once more.

“Don’t be such a tease.” You whined and dragged your fingernails over his back. He let out a soft moan.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n.” Noah exclaimed, and you whined, before rolling your eyes.

“Do that again and I’ll make you regret it.” He breathed out.

“Oh, I’m so scared.” You answered him in a mocking tone and he instantly gave his words truth.

For the second time something snapped inside of him. You let out a small yelp as he flipped you over in a swift motion, your chest hitting the mattress. He grabbed your hips with such force, you were sure he would leave bruises.

“You still wanna continue to be a brat?” He asked you in an almost dangerous tone and you shook your head.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He almost moaned and you felt this cock against your ass. He positioned himself behind you, his tip teasing your entrance. His hands wandered over your hips softly and you felt a kiss against your neck. “We can stop anytime.”

“Please, don’t stop.” You breathed out. After that he slowly slid into you, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.

“Is that alright?” He asked with a soft tone as you tried to get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

“Yes, everything is perfect.” You moaned out.

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when your time has come, this was how you wanted it to end.

“Oh, my f-… Noah.” You whispered out and gripped the sheets beneath you.

His right hand slowly reached to the front of your body and found your clit. He swiftly circled it while rocking into you.

His head was buried in your neck and the room was filled with moans and pants and curse words that were almost illegal to speak out.

“Shit, Y/N.” He whined into your neck. “You feel so good.” His thrust became faster and you were almost certain the bed was going to break if he kept that pace. But you were too far gone to care. You felt that knot in your stomach again and you knew this time you couldn’t contain yourself.

“Come on. Come for me, sweetheart.” He whispered against the back of your head, and you screamed. You screamed load enough that you were sure Jolly in the room underneath to you would hear.

He fucked you through it, his pace only slowing down moments later, right before he pulled out and you felt hot liquid painting your back.

You let yourself fall onto the pillow and he soon collapsed next to you. You turned to face him and could help but smile at him. He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m in desperate need of a shower and I don’t even wanna talk about the lack of sleep we’ll have tomorrow.” You answered him and giggle for a second that caused him to smile.

“It was worth it.” He mumbled before leaning in again.

“Yes… yes it was.” Your lips met in a soft kiss and for a second everything inside of you began to tingle. You knew this was a new chapter for the both of you and that this was only the beginning.

“Let’s shower.” He mumbled before getting up and reaching out to help you up. He slung his arms around you for a second. “Maybe you can tell me about those fanfictions while showering.”

Your eyes widened for a second, before you made your way to the bathroom, followed by a laughing Noah.

“I’ll keep that to myself.” You answered him, before closing the bathroom door behind the two of you.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[wayfayrr]

By your side from day one <3

finally set aside some time to finish off wilds turn for being self aware, the smartest one who found a way to get out without breaking your tv and getting the glass shards of screen everywhere. I'll be back on requests and such soon though!! <3

[masterlist]

“Come on [name], you can’t be serious about missing out on plans just to talk to someone you don’t even know is real.”

“You say like I would want to go clubbing tonight either way, besides he’s said he’s just been working up the courage to video call.”

“And you trust that?”

They’ve got enough of a conscious to look a bit ashamed when I look at them, I know they’re worried for me but of all the things to be so worked up about this seems harmless. 

“What if I told you that he was messaging me and telling me to stop talking to you.”

“Can you show me the proof.”

“Well… no. he deleted them immediately afterwards.”

Are they just jealous? This is so unlike them that it’s offputting. I know they can get a little worked up when I get close to other people but accusing my online friend - accusing wild - of threatening them? It’s petty and childish. Are they afraid I’ll replace them or something? 

“Okay, alright. This isn’t going to make me cut him off you know?”

“[name]...”

“Reach out when you don’t feel like senselessly trying to cut me off from others. I’ll see you around.”

Hopefully, it’s sooner rather than later, but if they don’t? It’s their own fault they thought they would need to sabotage my other relationships to get closer to me. They even have the audacity to call out after me as I’m leaving, still trying to warn me about him, like they can’t accept I would dare get close to anyone else. Not like it doesn’t feel awful potentially losing a friend like this, but what can I really do?

The trip home seems to pass in a blur, until I’m already collapsed onto my couch with a familiar notif going off on my phone. Opening it proves it is exactly what I expected it to be, a message from him, asking me how my day has gone showing me more care than nearly every other person in my life ever has. Not expecting me to drop everything on a dime for him, even if recently he’s been getting more possessive in his messages like he wants to be serious when I’ve never seen his face. 

- I’ve been decent, met up with a friend. Not much really, you? - 

- Had to do chores for someone I don’t like >:( wanna get away from everything tbh - 

- why not just up and leave? - 

- I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been planning something - 

Seems like the possessive streak has worn off now then, so I don’t have to worry about mentioning friends again. There isn’t even a reason he should be possessive of me though, unless he’s got a secret crush or something. Which I hope he doesn’t, he’s been speaking to me for barely a couple of weeks. 

- You free to call tonight? It’s been a while. - 

- I’m good rn if you are. I’ll just grab my headphones - one sec - 

- :DD perf perf - 

Honestly a call will be nice, I can just zone out for a bit, play some games and chat. It’s the perfect way to destress after everything that happened earlier, I still can’t believe they threw away our friendship over something so small. Maybe I should just block their number and drop them even if they do try and apologise, I don’t really need people like that in my life. 

“So then love, any plans for tonight?”

“I thought you said you were gonna drop calling me that?”

“It’s silly and you didn’t answer my question anyway.”

“Nah not really. I’m just loading up breath of the wild, been a bit since I’ve -”

“Oh shit.”

Has wild been link this whole time, wait - how did he get access to the internet, HOW IS HE SENTIENT?  

He’s just sitting in his hateno house, holding the sheikah slate like a phone and silently, through the switch anyway, talking. The look of horror on his face is gut-wrenching though.

“You - you…”

“Oh - uh - I mean. Come on love it’s not that bad is it? I - I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

“I don’t think I want to deal with this right now… I’m sorry I just.”

The look of horror and shame shifted terrifyingly fast when he noticed me moving to turn off the switch, replacing itself with fear and anger before he steeled himself, and presses his hand against the slate’s screen?

…

He - he’s reached through my phone to grab onto my wrist. 

“No, don’t turn me off, I can’t go back to being just a voice. Please”

“How… how are you DOING THIS?”

“That… Isn’t what matters right now.”

His grip feels so nervous, he looks it too - which makes sense, I would probably be petrified if I lost my body just because I was trapped in a game. I can’t turn him off that would be cruel… he deserves better than that. 

It instantly lightened as I moved to sit back down, a sigh of relief echoing through both my tv speakers and my phone, as he let go the second I sat with his hand retreating through my unbroken phone. 

“Okay, you promise you won’t try to turn me off?”

“I won’t if you’ll explain.”

“That - that’s fair, I can do that for you love and - if I told you that I think I’ve figured out a way to get out? Would you let me live with you?”

“So that’s why you were so forward abou- yes you can. When you’ve explained everything. And made it certain you’re not planning to kill me because you’re scared of me sending you back.”

The reverb’s stopped now, which makes talking a lot more pleasant and less like he’s trying to intimidate me now, not that I blame him for it if I was about to condemn him back to that hellscape. I just, I really hope he isn’t trying to get out just to kill me, I don’t think I would ever be able to get over my childhood crush wanting to kill me even if he has every right to want that.

“What- No no I don’t - why - why would you think I would ever want to even hurt you let alone KILL. I - love I. I love you. That’s why I’m doing all of this - I - I.”

He’s crying. I should’ve known that he wouldn’t do anything like that - it’s within his right to - but he’s link, he’s the hero, the protagonist who was stuck to my side through it all. I know I shouldn’t have said that it wasn’t meant to be cruel but it was careless enough to hurt him. 

“I’m sorry, I came on to strong, you - you have every right to be scared of me. I promise though love I - I will never hurt you ever.”

“I know… I just panicked. You can explain now I won’t overreact again I swear. Or if you’d prefer -”

“If I would prefer..?”

“Why not get out first, then explain?”

Lighting up a firework in my face would have been less blinding than his smile in that moment, it’s such a sweet smile - a genuine one too. Meaning that I said the right thing, that I’m doing the right thing by giving him this chance. 

Hopefully, I won’t regret it.

“Really? You’ll let me do that?”

“I think it’s a good idea, it’ll be easier to talk to you as well. Just - how are you going to go this?”

“Um, oh, well uh, I think I could possibly make your switch into a mock version of a warp medallion? Then link my slate to it and just well”

“That makes sense, you can go ahead then, shouldn’t take long right?”

“No, no it won’t.”

A couple of seconds was all the wait it needed for him to stumble out of the blue lights and right onto me, clearly disorientated by the shift into reality. Probably not as bad as any of the 2d links would have struggled to be fair to him. It was an even shorter wait for him to jump onto me and cling even tighter than a koala could ever hope to, nuzzling up against my neck like it’s the only - because - it’s the only real touch he’s ever felt. 

“So you want to explain then?”

“Could we wait? That took much more effort than I thought. I just want to rest a bit if that’s alright.”

“As soon as you’re rested enough to. You going to sleep for a bit then?”

“No I still want to talk, just about something less taxing?”

Seems like he’s more dodging the topic than anything, which is fine I can get him to talk about it later, there really isn’t a rush for anything. It’s fine. Besides he’s like an excited kid that’s staying up way past his bedtime right now, where’s the harm in staying like this for a bit?

“Mind if I ask why you’re so determined to call me ‘love’ then?” 

“Because you’re everything to me, my light, my love, my life - you’ve been with me through everything. From when I woke to killing ganon and you didn’t abandon me there. You’ve shown me your favourite cities, stuck with me when you had the choice to choose others because you said I am you favourite, so really? How could I not love you?”

“You were aware even in Mariokart?” 

His giggle is sweet, he’s so charming right now, especially with how unaware of it he is. It’s so earnest and unfiltered, just so raw, I could go the rest of my life with that being the only thing I ever hear again. Compared to how he acted in cutscenes as well? He’s happy. Tired but happy.

“Oh before I forget, You should be expecting a delivery actually!”

“What.”

“I’ve been wanting to get out of the game for a while so I ordered some things to try make myself more appealing to you.”

“Like what? Link you didn't need to do anything like that.”

He just shrugged, seems like I won’t be getting an answer to that till whatever arrives whenever it does. Seems he really wasn’t lying about being tired though, he’s already starting to fall asleep laying against me like this. Thankfully he’s light enough to move to a more comfortable position, although theres nothing I can do about how tightly he’s holding me and truthfully? There’s nothing I want to do about it.

“Y’know I think I could get used to this.”

“Yo’ will I pr’mise, I’ll make you addicted to m’.”

“Well that isn’t ominous at all… and you’re already asleep.” 

[half-bakedboy]

one hell of a story

For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen

Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.

read on ao3 or under the cut

“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”

----

Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face. 

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that. 

“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks. 

“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!” 

“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later. 

“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession. 

“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays. 

Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?” 

“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares. 

Then he focuses on saving their lives. 

The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction. 

He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough. 

All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark. 

“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 

“I think he’s coming to!” 

“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!” 

When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. 

“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming. 

“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—

Taylor. 

He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face. 

“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man. 

He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips. 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”

“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”

“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face. 

As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger. 

Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…

“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?” 

Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages. 

“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes. 

“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear. 

Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.

“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.

The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself. 

“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?” 

Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?” 

There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!” 

All of which are ignored by both of them. 

Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing. 

“I think I just might,” Evan agrees. 

“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”

“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…” 

“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?” 

“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.” 

“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully. 

“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan? 

“118.” 

With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster. 

“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.

“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue. 

And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect. 

(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”) 

[quinnyundertow]

Picking up the Pieces

Chapter 2

What we Lost

Choso x Reader

Chapter 1

THERE WILL BE MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

Summary: The fight with Sukuna has finally ended. Before he’s wisked off the battlefield the boy named Yuji begs you to try and save what’s left of his older brother.

TW Extreme disabilities, hospital setting, amputation.

AN: Writing this fic so far has been incredibly cathartic. I’ve found writing to be incredibly difficult since my back surgery. At first I thought it was the heavy duty pain killers and meds fogging my mind. Maybe it was. Now I’m just depressed. In the blink of an eye I went from no disability to unable to drive and using a walker to get around. Even then the pain is extreme. Thankfully my body is not as wounded as Choso’s is in this. Choso will not regain his limbs or full function in this story. But that doesn’t mean he can’t have a happy ending. Choso will have disabilities moving forward but that doesn’t mean he’s something broken that needs to be fixed. He still has value despite his physical limitations. I’m trying to convince myself that I do too.

Chapter 2

What we lost

All he could feel was pain. He had never experienced a sensation like this before. Wave upon wave of raw agony rolled over him. There’s this screeching mechanical noise blaring near him. Muffled voices are discussing something but it’s like all the sounds are under water. He’s trying to focus his blood manipulation ability to assess the damage to himself but something is terribly wrong. It’s like trying to grasp threads of information in a typhoon. The capabilities he used to summon with barely a thought before are slipping through his fingers. He can’t tell the extent of the damage Sukuna left but he knows this is a very bad sign. The pain has him gritting his teeth and straining his exhausted muscles.

Is this how his brothers felt before they died? Kechizu and Eso? Hell, even Yuji when he had practically killed him in that bathroom in Shibuya. Yuji. Had he been able to save Yuji? He thinks he did, hopes with every fiber of his being he did. If he failed, he hopes to die sooner rather than later. He tries to open his eyes but they’re too heavy. A racking wet cough bubbles out of his mouth to form the words to ask the only thing that matters, “Yuji?”

Someone is responding but he can’t make out the words. A small soft hand takes his own. It’s not Yuji. It reassures some part of him all the same. It feels like a life preserver has been thrown into the roiling ocean around him. Sudden relief from pain.

Time passes in a state between waking and dreams. He can tell when Yuji visits. His hand is large and calloused on his own. Yuji’s distressed. He knows he’s the reason and he hates it. Blood pressure rising as he’s struggling to open his eyes. Hands are on his shoulders as he seizes violently. Those small delicate hands are on one side and Yuji’s on the other. That familiar flow of pain relief pulls him under.

~~

Yuji Itadori has been through so much at this point yet he’s still smiling. It’s an exhausted, stressed out smile but a smile all the same. You feel cripplingly guilty. You may have kept Choso alive but the state he’s in is barely human. Er, curse. An existence at all.

“I can’t thank you enough for watching over him.” Yuji’s voice is sincere as he bows his head. You hate that he’s thanking you. Yuji has been at the hospital on campus more than he’s been home. Everyone he loves, still alive, is here in some capacity after all. Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki have their own rooms but they tend to gravitate towards one another and stay in Megumi’s room. Much to Megumi’s pretend chagrin.

Your voice is heavy with exhaustion, “It’s the least I can do.” You haven’t left the hospital in the week since Sukuna was destroyed. Neither has Shoko nor Nitta. There are so many injured people. Every few hours someone codes. Heart stopping, lungs failing. You three manage to bring them back but it’s taking everything you have. You’ve never felt so helpless. You know Shoko and Nitta feel it too. When your eyes meet each other in the hall as you pass. Grim expressions rather than greetings.

Yuji scratches the back of his neck; a gesture you’ve come to learn means he’s not sure what else to do with them. “Please don’t diminish what you’re doing.” He pauses to look back in the room where Choso is sleeping fitfully. “He’s calmer when you're close.”

You give a tired chuckle, “I’m a walking painkiller. Can you blame him?”

Yuji tilts his head as if considering your words. He looks like he wants to say more but words fail him. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to go check on Fushiguro.”

You nod, “Of course.” Yuji’s low bow before he leaves seems excessive. This is the boy who saved all of Japan after all. You sigh. Yuji doesn’t see the situation the same way. He sees it as him failing to protect all of Japan. You duck behind the curtain pulled around Choso’s bedside and sink into the chair beside him.

Choso looks like he was chewed up and spit out again by a meat grinder. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration; but not by much.

You had managed to nap for about an hour the ate some food Yuji had brought up alongside fresh flowers for the room. That was enough to give yourself a little more cursed energy to expend. You are trying to improve his quality of life while keeping him drugged up so he’s not in excruciating pain. Even with all your advanced pain relieving jutsus he moans for hours on end. Throat so raw he coughs up blood.

You place your fingers right behind his ears near his jaw. His right eardrum is just about healed. He should be able to hear something at least. The left ear is irreparable. Well technically it’s not the ear. Shoko said it’s the nerves from the brain to his ear that were destroyed. He has a gnarly scar on the back of his head. His dark locks will hide it in time. That’s probably the least of his worries.

You pick up his medical chart and jot down some notes. There’s a human figure at the bottom of the page. The figure shows front and back with notes on all injuries. You had to start numbering the locations because it was too much to write in the area provided.

“Left cranium injury, loss of hearing and sight to left eye. Severe burns to the inside of the throat and lungs from breathing in super heated air. Six broken ribs, right lung punctured, arms with severe burns from the elbow down. Right hand missing pinky and index finger. Left hand and forearm required amputation.” You can’t read anymore. Needless to say nothing survived below the knees.

When he’s up moaning in pain all night you wish you never would have tried to help him. He probably would beg you to let him die if he could manage it.

You stroke the right side of his forehead gently. He remarkably hasn’t had a fever today. He’s gradually improving. Shoko says he’s out of the woods now. He won’t die but he can’t regrow any of the pieces missing either.

Tracing his brow you hope the light sensation brings the tiniest bit of comfort. You’re terrified he’ll hate you when he wakes up and registers his condition. The only thing proving he’s aware of anything is he cries out for Yuji intermittently only to stop when Yuji or you hold his hand. What’s left of it. You hesitated at first to put any pressure on his hand but when you finally did his three undamaged fingers wrapped around your own. He didn’t let go until Yuji took your place.

His fingers curl comfortably around yours now. The sharing of warmth between you both seems to help you both relax. His blood pressure goes down to a healthier level and you can finally manage to get some much needed sleep. You don’t even realize when you doze off. Something feels wrong when you wake up. The hospital room is dark except for the green glow of the machine running his intravenous and keeping his pulse and oxygen rates tracked. Disentangling his finger from yours, you stand, examining the numbers on it to be sure there isn’t anything wildly out of the ranges he’s been in. “It doesn’t look bad. All things considered.” You’ve been talking to him since the moment you found him in the rubble. It comes naturally now. You don’t expect a response.

The relationship you have is one sided. You and Choso had never officially met before the fight against Sukuna. You had seen him in passing. Especially in the months leading up to the climactic battle of good vs evil. He was referred to as the curse protecting Sukuna’s former vessel by those who didn’t care for him and Itadori’s older brother by those who did. You hadn’t formed an opinion either way at the time.

You change the bag of urine collected and make sure his catheter doesn’t have any kinks in the line. Finding nothing else to occupy yourself with you slide back into the chair you had been seated in. “I think I’m starting to lose it.” You’re not sure what woke you up but you doubt you could fall back asleep anytime soon. You place your hand under his again and his fingers wrap back around your own.

You adjust pulling your legs up onto your chair, your thumb lightly rubbing the back of his hand in what you hope is comforting circles. That uncomfortable feeling falls over you again. It’s like you're being watched. You jerk awake, your eyes quickly scan up his face only to lock on the dark brown eye watching you. You gasp in surprise and shock. He looks cognizant, his pupils are almost back to normal size. Your mouth opens and shuts a few times in shock, “I-I gotta tell Yuji.”

You go to reach for your phone but your attention goes back to him when he tries to sit up and speak. Eyes widening, you're shaking your head. You let go of the hand that is holding his to urge him to not move; but his grasp on you is surprisingly strong. It doesn’t hurt at all but it’s definitely firm. “Choso, please don’t try to get up yet. You’ll tear your stitches open.”

He must be able to hear your plea because he pauses and rests back into the pillows laying about him. His eyes are scanning his surroundings briefly. They pause on the wall clock only to wander until they rest on your face. “It’s 3:20 AM.” You hear yourself stupidly explain what he clearly just saw. “..but you know that because you read the clock. Sorry.”

He looks confused as to why you're apologizing. You flush in embarrassment before picking up your phone again. “Yuji is going to be so happy you're aware now.”

His fingers squeeze your own briefly to get your attention. You pause to glance up at him in surprise. His voice is deep and scratchy sounding but it’s there. “Don’t.”

You blink in confusion several times. All Choso has done is ask for Yuji the whole time he’s sick and now he doesn’t want to see him? Clarity hits you a moment later, “You don’t want to wake him up?”

The corner of his lip curls slightly in the smallest smile. His fingers flexing once around yours in what your guessing is approval. You can’t help but smile back, your eyes burning with relief that his mind seems intact. “How about I text him as a compromise?”

His response is so light it’s barely a flutter of his fingers. His head is leaning back into his pillow. The eye he doesn’t have covered with bandages sleepily blinks at you. His eye is starting to look unfocused as it drifts shut. Each time it closes it’s a little longer than the last. He’s still holding your hand. You text with one hand to Yuji telling him the good news but not to rush over that Choso is going back to sleep. When you finish the message you tuck the phone into your pants pocket. Now free your spare hand wanders to his brow again. Still cool to the touch. You caress his forehead lightly stroking his hair back. You hope you aren’t overstepping your boundaries by doing so. Thankfully, you're reassured when he gives a long breath out and his brow relaxes as he fully falls asleep.

AN

I really enjoyed these fics with themes of loss and surviving with a caregiver reader. Please consider checking them out.

@umemiyan Postmortem/Postpartum

Buttholesupreme “I’ll be seeing you”

[websterss]

THOSE EYES  — LUKE PATTERSON

REQUEST: Hi!! So I've seen your account recently and I really would like you to write jatp luke Patterson x reader, when the Reader is always so goofy and childish. So they are sick like they have a very bad fever, and they are very weak and Luke takes care of them, and maybe sings a lullaby to help them sleep by singing to them and rocking them please. 

WARNING(S): um cussing mostly, and fluff

WORD COUNT: 985

PAIRING: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

“Y/n, I know you’re in there!” Rapid thuds against your window can be heard. The loudness that vibrates through the window shook through your body. You pull the duvet over your head to hopefully muffle the sounds of your annoying friend.

“Come on, let me in!”

“Goaway.” You muffle yelled. Though to your annoyance, it simply slipped your mind that Luke has the ability to poof in and out of places. Perks of being a ghost. “No. I wanna be at peace!” You whine as you sense his presence before you.

“Hello to you too, sunshine.”

“Goaway.” Your voice muffled under your blanket.

“Can’t do that. Julie specifically told me to come and help you around the house since she’s at school.”

“Why!” You kick out the duvet off you. Moving around frantically, part tantrum. “I don’t need a ghost. I need a goddamn miracle-“ You stop feeling clogged up air in your chest causing you to cough. “God I hate being sick.”

“Do you need anything?” Luke walked over, pressing the back of his hand against your warm tempered forehead. “No fever.”

“I just wanna sleep honestly.” You sigh heavily. Turning your head to meet his eyes. “I have this massive migraine that I’ve been trying to cure with ibuprofen for the last couple days, but I stopped because I’m scared of growing an addiction.” You muster a grin, finding the bit hilarious. “Then there’s my congested nose, trying to breathe has been a bitch. I keep waking up in the middle of the night in coughing fits because my lungs can’t get any air.”

“You gotta tell your lungs to work man!”

“I’m trying!” You laugh, heaving a slight bit then feeling the urge to cough again. “This sucks. I don’t even know how I got sick. It’s like all my energy just got drained right out of me. It’s ruined my whole week.” You let your arms fall in defeat by your sides. “I’m sorry, Luke. I know I said I’d be there for the band’s rehearsals but— I barely have the energy to get out of bed these days.” A faint smile paints your face.

“Hey, don’t sweat it okay. Rehearsals will still be there for you to watch after you get better alright? Besides, we can always record what you’ve missed.” Luke sat on the edge next to you. His comfort dissolves the aches and pain that run through your entire system. The mere thought of knowing someone wanting to look after you, gave you hope for a full recovery sooner rather than later. “Though you’re not missing much honestly.”

“Only my social life.” You dismissed passively. “Can’t believe I’m stuck here and you guys are making music. Unfair.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better-” He pointed at your side, activating your flight or fight response. You laughed moving away from his hands, never one to enjoy being tickled. “We’re not really having much luck with coming up with new songs.”

“Now that I found it hard to believe.”

“No seriously, it’s like we ran out of inspiration.”

“Oh come on! You guys seriously haven’t written anything while I’ve been at home sick?”

Luke shrugged. “We’re all missing our muse…” He reached forward to boop you on the nose.

“Please, I’m no muse.” You half heartedly laugh.

“Maybe not the guys, but definitely mine.” He nodded surely.

“Well then, I’m honored.” You reach forward and take a hold of his hand. Twiddling with his fingers. Intertwining and untwining your hand with his. “Any chance I can hear something?” You batted your eyes playfully. A pout full on display. “Would you sing for a poor sick girl?” You force a cough out of your mouth. “A sneak peek of what’s to come?”

“You sure know how to persuade a guy.” Luke smirked.

“What can I say–“ You cough again. “I’m pretty convincing.” Your eyes crinkle, a sleepy haze falls over your tired form.

“Alright sleepy head, I’ll give you something.” He brought his hand up to lightly brush away some flyaway hairs from your eyes. His touch softly lingering. Soothing the slight ache that didn’t want to go away.

“What’s it–“ You yawn big. “called?”

“Well, Julie, the guys, and I haven’t really settled on a name yet, but I think we’re inching closer with Those Eyes.”

“It sounds nice…” You adjust yourself into the bed. Bring the covers up to your chest. The thing about having the flu was that you had the tendency to get shivers here and there, other times hot spells causing you to kick off the covers. A continuous back and forth situation. Right now you were just simply feeling cold. 

“It does. It’s a little slower than any of our other songs, but I think it’ll be a nice touch to the album.”

“Let’s hear it, rockstar.” You hummed. Placing your hands flat over your covered stomach.

“Give me a second.” Luke scoffed humorously. He began making a rhythmic beat on his jean clad thigh, head slowly bobbing as he tried to find his pitch. He took a deep breath and began singing.

“Cause all of the small…things that you do…are what remind me why I fell for you...” His smile grew seeing you start to slip into a deep slumber. Your breathing evening out and becoming slower. He leaned forward, letting his hands caress the side of your cheek gently. His heart fluttering as you subconsciously leaned into his touch. “and when we're apart, and I'm missing you. I close my eyes and all I see is you...and the small things you do.” He leaned back and watched you sleep. His favorite pastime, knowing you were getting rest, and at peace in the comfort of your bedroom. “Sweet dreams, peaches.” Then he was gone in a poof. Silence filling the space, and your sleep unbothered.

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-7

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lil bit of Angst, minor cursing

Word Count: 757

Author's Note: Here's our first bit of angst for Bob and Flora! I hope you guys are ready for it!

It had been a week since your wonderful date with Bob and it feels like you’ve been floating since. Everything seemed perfect and nothing could bring you down, except one thing. Prom, it was right around the corner so you haven’t had time to talk to your lovely WSO. The number of corsages and boutonnieres you’ve had to make was endless. Your fingers have been throbbing from the number of times you’ve accidentally poked them with pins.

What was worse was the mothers. If you got a dollar every time a mother yelled at you for picking the “wrong” shade of pink or purple, you would be rich by now. They were ruthless and didn’t care that you were only human. Your assistant, Quinn, was at the same level of tiredness as you. They would come in daily with your regular order from the cafe down the street to ensure you were alive. You looked like a zombie on the outside but on the inside, you were still on that high from the date.

Bob hasn’t texted since but you weren’t worried. During the date, he talked about having to do a small deployment for three weeks so that contact would be low. While you weren’t used to this, you knew that if you wanted to continue this blooming relationship you had to understand what comes with dating a man from the Navy. Yet, that didn’t mean you didn’t miss your conversations with him. He always had such a way with words that it made you feel like a schoolgirl in love, which hadn’t happened in a long time. Quinn would joke that you always had “heart eyes” when discussing or thinking about him.

They said it was obvious that this man from the Navy differed from your previous relationships. This was true, no one had treated you like Bob did. He seemed to worship the ground you walked. He cared about your comfort zones and if you were enjoying yourself. It made your heart flutter when thinking about it.

While attempting not to prick your finger the thousandth time, a jingle of the door was heard. Quinn greeted the customer and asked what they were looking for.

“Actually, I’m here to talk to her,” a deep gravelly voice said.

Recognizing this voice, you froze. It was your ex, James. One of the few men who thought that he could use you as an experiment girlfriend based on your looks. People sometimes tell you that you dress differently. Even though Quinn had simply explained your style was more on the whismigoth style. James was part of the group that deemed it weird and childish.

When you were dating, he kept trying to change how you acted, dressed, talked, etc. He thought he was doing you a service, but in reality, it just tore down your self-esteem.

Turning around, you put on your best customer service smile and walked over.

“Hi, James. What can I do for you?”

You wanted to keep this interaction short.

“Oh, nothing much. I was just seeing if you still were attempting to have an “actual” business,” he replied unbothered with his hands in his pants pockets.

This comment made you pissed. How could he judge your life when he wasn’t even in it anymore? Either way, he had to leave sooner rather than later so you had to cut this interaction short.

“Well as I appreciate the concern, I do have a lot on my plate. So, it was nice to see you again, James, but I must say goodbye,” you said with a tight smile on your face. The man had only been here for five minutes and you wanted to beat him with a bucket.

“Of course, wouldn’t want to take up too much of your precious time,” he said sarcastically. “I hope you enjoy making useless shit.”

“What did you just say motherfu—” Quinn began to say until you put a hand on their shoulder to stop them from picking a fight. They looked back and saw you shaking your head.

James simply smirked and walked out of the store with zero care. He knew had won this battle, but that wasn’t what you were worried about. Why did he show up out of the blue? Why did he “check-up” on you? What was his intentions?

While you didn’t have all the answers, you knew one thing. This probably wasn’t the last time you were going to see him. Now you had two things that were bringing you down.

Tag List: @tgmavericklover @jessicab1991 @havlindzk @tgmreader @charactersimp08 @just-in-case-iloveyou @theamuz @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123 @3tabbiesandalab @mckenziewhite2005 @djs8891 @seitmai @kmc1989 @nervousnerdwitch @sweetwhispersofchaos

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Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

[dranna]

Blossoming Love through the Ages

2500BC - Chapter 1

AO3 / Commissions / Links / Prologue

Summary: How does their friendship and eventually their feelings blossomed through the ages? I'm attempting to rethink the scenes we saw from the seasons, adding Crowle's thoughts and additional segments.

Warnings: none

a/n: I've finally gathered enough courage because I've never wrote nor shared anything of this poetic, sonnet like?? fanfiction before. I'm a little nervous tbh, but comments and feedbacks are warmly welcomed! Let me know, if you would like to see more:))

Later on, I might add my drawings too.

English is not my first language, so I apologise for mistakes.

Crowley’s POV:  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the year 2500 BC, 

Stood someone, on top of a dry hill, 

where this story line began growing.

There he was in all confidence, 

Because he knew, he was protected by the law of all Light and Dark of the Great Universe.

He was, as he always been a soul of a misunderstood kind, 

Caught up in between the two sides of eternal corrival.   

His name was Crowley, not long ago changed from Crawly, 

A Demon, fallen from the cold, white sky, 

Which he once filled with hope and light. 

His stature was camouflaged with all black, decorated with a little carmine, 

Just like ever since, after the Beginning of Time. 

As he was standing in the frying rays, 

The flaming flocks and bushy beard of his, absorbed every heat it seemed.

His golden, snake-like eyes, remained hidden, 

Under the darkened glasses of man made brand.

“You should know why, you are about to die. 

I was sent here to tell and corrupt, there is no need to deny, 

God has abandoned you, yet claims to love you. 

Demands your praise, and has given you up to be ruined.” 

How ironic is it not? To send a once all devoted angel to the destruction of a devoted man? 

What was his sin, if I might ask, or it’s just for thy amusement? 

He gave all of his mind and heart to you, 

Is it thy reward to kill, then give everything back but new?

– Reflected the serpent, while placing the huge fire of decay, 

In front of the burning planet’s radiate. 

-------------------------------

The destruction of Job, was about to begin, 

When came in a warm golden light, 

The warning of another eternal life. 

In appearance he was the opposite of the fiend,

White and gold were what he wore, 

Hair white, cheeks puffy and in general being silly. 

Aziraphale, as he was called, appeared out of a colourless mess,  

Demanding the demon to stop his evil progress.

Before he could cast something holy upon him however, he halted amused:

“Oh! It’s you isn't it? 

We haven't met since the drowning of the creatures of this Planet.”

“Ah, yeah. That's quite correct.”

“....Well, if you don't mind, I have a duty here, I can't neglect–”

With that exchange, he opened the blanket of his holy light, 

And started his speech a second time. 

How charmful he is standing there, 

Casting blessed words to my care.

He is rather lovely on his own, 

Wouldn't need all this devine glow.

What a funny effect it will have, 

When I tell him, I’m allowed to do that!

– Crowley was chuckling inside, 

Then suddenly, calmly exhaled,

“No”

“No?” 

Azriaphale was so surprised, 

He thought, he didn't hear it right. 

After all, what he had known all this time, 

That Job is the favourite of the Creator. 

And, God is just and right, 

He wouldn't punish an innocent that tight.

“What do you mean no? 

I would like to remind you, that Job

Is favoured by God, 

Therefore you see, I can't let you do your evil deed.”

“Noooo.. Thank you? I have a permit you see,

By God. Yes!

So I’m more than allowed to do that.“

“But this can't be right!

You know well, I don't mind jokes of the harmless kind,  

However this–”

Crowley reeled the parchment of the godly permits, 

The sooner before Aziraphale could finish his speech. 

The paper just rolled and rolled and rolled, 

Over hills and valleys, 

Because it was so long. 

To the utter fright of the Angel, 

The licence seemed legit. 

His look of puzzlement has such an endearing effect, 

As he is focusing on the subject, 

How is it possible that we are on friendly terms,

Since he still has so much fate,

In the doings of Heavenly concerns?

Why do I wish to be closer to him, to him!

Among all beings?

— The Snake’s reflections wandered yet again, 

As his good companion took the permit, 

And took a visit to the Ones Up there. 

How come, he didn't know, 

While everyone got a note?

I’m pretty sure the High Ranks were the firsts,

Who was imparted in confidence, 

How he, who was sent to Earth, 

Didn't learned about this providence?   

-----------------------

Alright now I should destroy everything this poor man, Job has,

Farms, buildings, animals and children, 

What did they ever do to You?

Nevertheless I have no choice,

But to obey the orders of my Boss.…….

Yet, I'm a Demon after all, 

So they mustn't be mad if I do fuckery. 

After all, what Beings of the Down supposed to do,

But do mischievous tricks on their own? 

– Sighed the Demon with the flaming hair, 

Then launched the fires from the air, 

He seemed to be in deep, deep thought, 

While all the goats, to whom he first spoke, 

Appeared to be evaporate under the heat,

Still he carried on, in rather a cheery emotional state. 

Yes, the idea might work, 

His home will be perfect for this toil, 

All I have to do is be careful and focus, 

So the Downstareians don’t except a thing!

With that, he turned towards the home of Job, 

Among the falling fiery petal jewels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading dears! <33

Tags my beloveds: @giosnape

[azuisreading]

Born of Scourge by S. Jean

Legends say when the skies grow dark and scourge starves the land, a star will fall in order to save humanity. Only when the star is sacrificed at the end of their journey will light return. It's a cycle—one humanity refuses to break because stars are plentiful and their sacrifices easier than learning the true nature of the scourge. When Sol finally falls, it's not because of humanity. It's because he's had enough of watching his brethren be sacrificed. He has one goal: end humanity and end the cycle. Unfortunately, he has to pretend he cares before humans get wise. It doesn't matter how soft the princess who catches him is—Celena will be dead by the time his journey ends. Nor how kind his assigned companions are—the outgoing Mira with her ballads, the brave Nebora with her axe, and the hero Loren with his soft voice and friendly smile. For centuries, humanity has lied and their kindness is a ruse to bring about Sol's own destruction at the end of his tale. He will not be fooled. No one cares about the cries of the stars they've destroyed over and over again and Sol will make sure this time, humanity is the one sacrificed. At least, that's the plan until his traitorous heart begins to care for the humans he sought to eradicate.

Review

Following S. Jean from their web novel series «The Magician and The Bard» brought me this greatness. I was able to apply to join their ARC team to read this gem, even though I was a bit unconvinced about their writing, but this ended up being an amazing decision. I’m in love with Born of Scourge and their storytelling skills, and I’m already in for whatever she wants to tell in the future (and for what I’ve already missed in the past).

So, what are you gonna encounter here? A lot of angst. And a pretty dark theme. This isn’t a light reading, everyone knows the world is ending, but all of us rather play dumb. That doesn’t stop the passing of time and we’re unfortunately aware. Which I believe makes things worse. There wasn’t a moment in which I believed the story would end in a happy or positive ending, and I’m pretty good at leaning toward this stuff.

Why read it, then? Because it’s amazing. You can feel the bond between the characters and how, even when everything has an end and sooner or later it will come, things have meaning. What you do it’s important. How you decide to act will always be the key. You can help someone to have a better or a worse journey just with a few, usually not significant to you, words. Just by staying for a moment. Just being you.

You can go through the world wanting to end it and still spread hope. The world could not deserve you, but what you do will always be more than enough.

I think that if a book can make me this philosophical and positive about our existence and the way our world is working right now, then it deserves a shot. I never expected to find a book with such dark tones on my comfort shelf. I never expected to have fun delving into such themes. The prose is magnificent, incredibly beautiful. I took out a few phrases just because it was going to be a big spoiler (and highly illegal, hahah) to take the whole book.

I’ll keep its love story, because I believe that’s what is about. Even this dark, is a beacon of light and hope. You know how it goes: you only can appreciate the beauty of life when you have seen its ugly side.

Phrases that I liked so much that I marked them while reading

«She held the star as close to her heart as possible because he would bring back the light. She was sure of it.» — Prologue.

«All of it was rote, normal, and helped her ignore the fact the world was ending around them. Sol didn’t mind helping her forget. He liked the way she smiled.» — Chapter I.

«And besides, she harbored the belief the world wouldn’t end because Sol was there. He hadn’t the heart to tell her otherwise or about the promise he’d made as he’d fallen through the skies. Let her believe he’d save the world if it made her smile so.» — Chapter I.

«Early on, Celena had told Sol the names of every single plant they grew here, but only these two stood out because Celena absolutely loved them.» — Chapter I.

«It was calm simply existing together like this, arms entwined, and Sol wouldn’t have minded staying like this the entire day.» — Chapter I.

«For some reason, when she spoke his name, it made him want to smile.» — Chapter I.

«The smiles she graced him with were bright and dazzling and made him forget what he was.» — Chapter I.

«When he opened his eyes again, Celena had returned. Still radiated a softness in the world Sol couldn’t help but want to hold.» — Chapter I.

«Celena was so resplendent when she smiled. Sol wanted to memorize it and sought to trace it with his fingers, so he’d never forget. Even when darkness claimed everything that was and ever would be, he’d hold onto this smile. This afternoon as they swept each other through the gardens, their soft laughter mixing together amongst the whispers in the wind.» — Chapter I.

«“Part of me actually hoped they wouldn’t come. So then I’d have more time with you.”» — Chapter II.

«“Are you ready?” “As long as I am with you,” Sol said.» — Chapter II.

«Sol drifted off, simply listening to her breathe and the way her blood hummed against him, and part of him hoped morning never came because deep down buried in his heart, he didn’t want to leave her.» — Chapter III.

«Gareth looked between Nebora and Loren, silent with his eyebrows high in amusement. For once, he wasn’t the one being yelled at.» — Chapter IX.

«As much as he wanted it to be true, these were not those he’d once been nestled beside in the cosmos. They were echoes of who they’d been, hardened into scourge and then left behind when the light returned. They would never again be who they once were.» — Chapter X.

[ask-remy-lebeau]

“S.O.S.” Rogue sent off the text to Remy. Hoping that he wasn’t on a job or something.

She stormed down the hallway away from Laura’s room.

She needed out of here. Sooner rather than later. Hoping to avoid an awkward conversation with either Jean or Logan.

She was so distraught that she didn’t notice Bobby till she collided with him.

“Woah, Rogue. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She replies.

“You don’t sound fine.”

She huffs. Helping him pick up the scattered books.

“Just family stuff I need to be anywhere but here right now.”

“Hey if you need to get out of here, this can wait.” He gestures to his scattered papers.

“No, I mean… I don’t wanna bother ya.”

“Come on. If nothing else you’ll be able to clear your head and I can slack off on work.”

She sighs. “This may be a problem I can only solve with alchohol.”

“Hey if you’re buying, I’ll drive and pay for gas.”

“Deal.”

Some time later. Bobby arrives back at the mansion supporting a very drunk Rogue. She pets his beard.

“Yer beard feels like Velcro.” She informs him.

“Thank you? Come on Rogue I think you need some coffee.” He chuckles. Jumping as two red eyes blink out at them from the darkness.

“Hey! That’s my guy!” Rogue exclaims excitedly. Almost falling over.

Bobby adjusts his arm around her to prevent this before giving Remy a friendly smile.

“Hey Gambit. Rogue’s having a bit of a rough day so we went out for a friendly drink.”

@hiya-sugah

Remy had been working on helping the older munchkins fix something in the barn and hadn't noticed his phone buzzing when she texted him. As soon as he saw the text he rushed right over, only to find she wasn't at the school. When he spotted Bobby entering and saw her on his arm, Remy couldn't stop the jealousy and anger bubbling up inside him, though he could certainly prevent himself from killing Bobby at least until he knew more of what was going on.

"A drink huh? That all that y'all went out for? The text I missed from her had me worried something more life threatening was gonna go down..." He shuffles a deck of cards as he speaks, one of the cards consistently glowing magenta. "I mean, SOS ain't usually reserved for a friendly drink in my experience... She tell ya what happened?"

[thetimemoves]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @discordantwords to share some of the WIPs I'm currently working on. Thanks for the tag!

Rules: post the first few lines or the summary of as many WIPs that you care to expose to the reading public. Tag others if you are curious to see what they are working on.

I have a lot of WIPs! Here are three that have a very good chance of being posted sooner rather than later. We’ll see. Life keeps throwing surprises my way.

Roundabout

A fic for @discordantwords, who had an old Holmestice prompt for Sherlock and John at an amusement park. 

When John and Sherlock find themselves stuck on what just might be the oldest wheel in England, they finally run out of excuses and confront their feelings. Confessions abound.

“Sit still, you git!” John tightened his grip on the metal bar locked across his and Sherlock’s laps. “If you keep moving like that, we’re going to tip out.”

Next to him, Sherlock scooted back—fractionally—but continued to lean forward, making the car sway uncomfortably. He was too busy looking over the park to admire the sea view, clearly aware of John’s tension, but also clearly determined to ignore it.

John shook his head and tried not to curse. Again. He focused on the water in the near distance, sparkling like diamonds as the sun glinted off the waves of the Channel. He didn’t like heights, never had, yet here he was. The things he did for Sherlock Holmes.

The old car rocked to and fro as they spun round, dropping towards the ground and rising back to the sky. Over and over.

“Remind me why we’re going round in circles on what has to be the oldest wheel in England?” John picked at the chipping paint on the bar and wondered when the ride had last been inspected.

“It’s called an observation wheel for a reason, John.” Sherlock didn’t look over, just kept scanning the crowds on the ground. “I’m observing. What better way than from the highest point in the park?”

Pull Me Up Again

This is a gift for @educatedinyellow, inspired by her amazing Reichenbach vid Underwater (I can’t rec it enough, all the Reichenfeels!). It’s a gentle, domestic post-Fall fic with John and Sherlock finding their way back to each other.

Sherlock is not actually dead after all.

In fact, he’s currently at the kitchen table happily grumbling to himself over his latest experiment. A viscous liquid, possibly poisonous but almost certainly corrosive, bubbles away in a beaker. There’s the scratch of pen across paper and the clink of slides, all signs of Sherlock completely engrossed.

John is in his chair doing his best to concentrate on the book in his hands, but it’s a lost cause. He can’t see Sherlock from where he’s sitting, but that doesn’t keep him from repeatedly cocking his head to listen to the familiar sounds coming from the kitchen. He knows he’s being ridiculous but doesn’t care. It’s needed reassurance that this is all real, that Sherlock is there, and he is there and that this miracle is not in his head.

Against all hope and logic, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are back at 221b Baker Street. Together. The ‘how’ is still mostly a blur to John and the ‘where’ is even more so, but the ‘when’ happens eight days, three hours, and 51 minutes after Sherlock’s dramatic reappearance on John’s doorstep.

The ‘why’ is the easiest part. Sherlock is there, so John will be there too. Full stop.

A Dreadful Darkness Closes In

This is another installment in my (2021, yikes) Whumptober challenge, a short fic from Mycroft’s POV during the initial days of Victor Trevor’s disappearance. Here, young Mycroft helps search for little Victor Trevor, comforts a distraught Sherlock, and comes to a horrifying realization about Eurus.

It’s late, well after 9 pm, when Mycroft and his father return to Musgrave Hall.

An unsettled silence hangs over the house as they shrug off their coats. There’s no sign of Mummy, but Mycroft detects the slightest hint of woodsmoke. She is likely in the sitting room, waiting by the dying fire for an update.

Another day of unfruitful searching. Victor Trevor is still missing, vanished into thin air.

Mycroft watches his father toss keys into little ceramic frog that has been on the table next to door for as long as he can remember. A box of Halloween decorations sits on the floor, untouched.

The menfolk of the village have been searching for Victor Trevor for the last three days, with Siger Holmes leading the efforts.  

Mycroft was on the first train home upon hearing the news. His first thought was of sweet Redbeard, that tiny towheaded pirate who is constantly, happily, attached to Sherlock’s hip. His second was of Sherlock, who can’t go a day without asking to see his best friend. The two of them together are a hurricane of noise and activity and a joy to watch. Their intense bond is a relief to Mycroft, who knows his time away at school upsets his baby brother. He can’t fathom not finding little Victor, can’t bear to think of what will happen if they don’t.

Of Shags and Squires

And a bonus WIP, one that has been languishing for a few years. It’s my BBC update of REIG, with John dragging Sherlock down to the countryside for a rest after an exhausting case. They’re staying with John’s old Army buddy, Colin Hayter. There will be kisses and confessions and a curious case featuring an old legend to crack. This bit takes place when they arrive at Colin’s place. The names might be familiar to ACD canon lovers. :)

As they stepped out of the car, they were swarmed by three large, fluffy white dogs. Sherlock immediately knelt down and opened his arms up to one of the dogs, which proceeded to lick his face.

“Down, girls!” Colin laughed as he moved to pull the dog away from Sherlock, who had a wide grin on his face. “I assume John warned you about these beasts, yeah?”

“He did, but I do like dogs very much, so you needn’t worry.” Sherlock scratched the dog’s head and practically hugged it.

“That’s Birdy, she’s a love, isn’t she? The one mauling John over there is Bradstreet, and the one waiting for whichever one of you is free first is Baynes.”

“Great Pyrenees, I presume? They make excellent guard dogs for the sheep, I presume.”

“That’s right. Sisters from the same litter. I was only looking for one but couldn’t bear to part them. They’re a handful, but I can’t imagine life without them now.”

“Sorry, boss!” A young man jogged around the corner of the garage. “I was trying to keep them together, but they bolted as soon as they heard the car turn down the lane.” He pulled up, panting, and bent over slightly to catch his breath. “Naughty things.” He ruffled the fur of Bradstreet, who ran back over to him.

Colin smiled. “Gents, this is Liam Kirwin. His mum works for the Cunninghams next door and they live on the estate over there. He’s been helping me out a lot as the place gets busier. Think I might poach him from Old Cunningham and install him here. Don’t know what I’d do without him! He’ll be around even if I’m not and can help you with anything you might need. Liam, these are my friends I told you were coming for a visit. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.”

The men shook hands. Liam was a shade taller than Sherlock and about 20 pounds heavier. He had an open, friendly face.

I'll tag @calaisreno and @helloliriels​ and anyone else who sees this. If you'd like to share some of what you've been working on, consider yourself tagged!

[revolversandlace]

Blemished Silk | Chapter Twenty-Four - Sodom? Back to Gomorrah

Chapter Index

Arthur Morgan x f!OC Longfic

Mature Rating - 4.5k Words

Chapter Tags & Warnings: Arthur!POV, Angst, Pining, Canon Divergence, Violence

Summary: Arthur heads back to the estate to deny himself a chance at happiness

Valentine, May 1899 

Finally, it seemed that their luck was on the up. As close a call as it was, the bank robbery led to a mighty fine take. Even Bill - the moron - managed to not screw anything up. 

One bank robbed, a couple of dead Pinkerton’s and a pocket full of cash. It was almost enough to put a smile on Arthur’s face until he remembered that he had to make another trip to the Downes’ ranch. 

The first visit was bad enough, beating some sickly old fool near to death. It didn’t sit right with him and now he’d have to do the same with the widow. 

It weren’t all on him though. Damn fools shouldn’t have been borrowing money they ain’t in no position to pay back. Especially borrowing money from the snakey little Strauss. How anyone could even look at that man and trust him was beyond Arthur. 

But they all had their parts to play, and debt collecting - whether he liked to admit it or not - was good money for the gang. He supposed he could always rustle up some cash, say they paid it back but he weren’t a numbers man and Strauss would figure it out sooner rather than later. And the last thing Arthur needed was Dutch thinking he’d gone soft. 

Arthur was a wanted man after all, and he didn’t get that bounty on his head from playing nice. 

So he climbed on the back on Montague, clicking him into a gallop in hopes that whatever Pinkertons were still sniffing around would soon be lost. 

 As Arthur arrived, riding through the oak trees with the snowy mountains invitingly lying on the horizon, he rode up to the ranch. Mrs Downes and the boy were already outside, meandering around as Arthur pulled his horse to a stop and swung his leg over, dismounting. 

The widow looked over her shoulder; her lined skin formed into a frown as she organised some boxes on the cart that she stood over. 

‘My husband’s not cold in the ground, and you’ve come back here. Archie.’ She waved her hand dismissing the boy, and she wiped her hands on her apron. ‘I nearly paid off what was owed.’ 

Arthur shrugged as her son went into the house as their hound greeted Arthur with a sniff on his leg. 

‘Your husband knew the rules when he took that money,’ Arthur said, wanting to be done with the exchange and away with the money as quickly as possible. ‘Now I’m real sorry about the way things turned out, but he had a choice. Ain’t my fault about the way the world is.’ 

‘He didn’t have a choice,’ Mrs Downes retorted as she walked towards her son, who had returned from the house with a luggage case. 

Clearly, their debt came with more than just the price of paying the gang back. A knot formed in Arthur’s stomach. 

‘He was good and did good,’ she continued moving one thing and the other from their porch to the cart. ‘There wasn’t no choice in that. And you as good as killed him yourself, and don’t kid yourself.’ 

She turned to look at him, right in the eyes. A very different woman to what he last saw. But Arthur didn’t shrink from her gaze, as much as his conscience told him that she was right. He was here for one thing and one thing only. 

‘You had a choice,’ she said, and she may as well have spat on him right there. 

‘You speak as if killin’ him were something I cared about,’ Arthur said, his voice low and mean. 

‘You ever wonder about eternity? You should.’ She said, turning to collect more belongings from her son. 

‘I hope it’s hot and terrible, Mrs Downes, otherwise I’ll feel I’ve been sold a false bill of goods.’ 

His mouth spoke before his mind thought too hard on the matter. He knew damn well where he was going to end up after all of this, and he deserved every second of it. Well, that was if he believed in those children’s tales. Life weren’t fair and whatever happened after - which he was sure as shit was nothing - weren’t going to be fair either. 

And besides, he knew it would wind the widow up enough to get on with getting the rest of the money, as she seemed too suited on giving him some rapture. 

‘Now, please…’ he said with an exasperated sigh, as his arm gestured towards the house, ‘get me that money.’

With a tut, she stormed into the house, shaking her head from side to side with her feet heavy on the porch stairs. 

The boy, meanwhile, brought out yet another case, his eyes far too narrow for Arthur’s liking. He shifted himself on his feet, looking the kid up and down. 

‘Either you’ve got a lazy eye or a lack of respect. Which is it, boy?’

‘I ain’t got no lazy eye,’ he said, his scrawny shoulders puffing out as he turned to Arthur, ‘nor respect for the likes of you.’ 

Arthur would have laughed any other time, but he was growing impatient and his blood was still hot from the robbery not one hour ago. 

Gun fights were funny like that. The rush would cling to your veins for hours, even days afterwards.

‘Well, maybe when your mother’s finished mournin’ your father,’ he stepped closer to the boy, his eyes squint and chin jutting as his thumbs tucked into his gun belt, ‘I’ll keep her in black… on your behalf.’ 

The boy stepped back, growing suddenly sheepish with the brief moment of his balls dropping out of him. 

‘You think on that, boy,’ Arthur said with a firm nod, his tongue flicking out the corner out of his mouth like a hungry wolf. 

‘Well, maybe you shall sir,’ the kid said, his voice shaking as Arthur was sure he could hear the fear filled heart beat, ‘and maybe other events will transpire.’ 

Now Arthur did laugh, but in no way was it a kind laugh. It was a dark laugh that bordered on unnatural. 

‘You best stick to them books, because mark my words on this - vengeance is an idiot’s game.’ 

The footsteps returned as Arthur stood back from the son, his eyes only gracing him for a second longer while the widow appeared with a healthy billfold. 

‘Ah, Mrs Downes, thank you for punctuality,’ he said, not giving her a moment before he held out his hand as she shoved the money into his palm. ‘It’s next to godliness, isn’t it?’

He licked his thumb, flicking through the notes. The last thing he wanted to do was to return or track them down if they weren’t paying proper. 

‘That’s cleanliness,’ she said with tight lips. 

‘I’ll have to take your word on that,’ thankfully, the money was all there as he shoved it into his back pocket with a swift nod. ‘Good day.’ 

And so he left, without another word, throwing himself onto the horse and getting away from that damn ranch as quickly as possible. 

He wasn’t ready to return to camp, far from it. The whole interaction with the widow had left a dirty taste in his mouth like sour beer, his mind heavy with regret. The world was simple to Arthur. You take, expect to pay back. Even with all the stealing, he knew his price was at the end of a rope, but he was smart enough to not get caught. 

But he wasn’t smart enough to stop making excuses for himself or for the gang. They could have had a cleaner life, a life without being on the run, but they were in far too deep now. 

Far too deep in the cheating, the stealing and killing. And he was far too deep in with Amelia. Hell, he cracked a man’s skull open like a glass jar, just in the hopes of some information. He wasn’t even just putting the gang at risk with his schoolboy crush. He was risking everything, risking her. 

Another unfair thing in life. 

He was a goddamn outlaw. A no good thief and killer, and she was… she was good and kind, with a beautiful elegance and charm, and it was beyond Arthur why she had even turned sweet on him. 

But it had to end. He had to put a stop to it all, and it was that simple. 

Before he even realised, he was heading down the treeline of the Edwards Estate. The grand manor nestled in the southern countryside against the sun which had started to drop in the sky leaving the whole world orange.

Hitching his horse, he looked around for her golden hair and bright smile. The thought of her face damn near broke him in two. 

He wanted to tell her, tell her all of it. All the mistakes, the bad decisions and all the shit he was in with no one but himself to blame. For a fleeting moment, he thought that her kindness would extend to him, that she would forgive him, that maybe she would even help him. 

He knew it was foolish, but he hoped just for a second, it could all play out how he wanted even if he didn’t deserve it. 

But that weren’t the way. Good people like Mr Downes got sick and beaten by miscreants like him, good horses got shot in the chest because people like him would lead them to their death when they had nothing but blind loyalty. Children begged on the street with dirty frozen feet, and women let men do whatever sadistic shit they wanted for a few dollars. 

If life weren’t fair to them, why did Arthur hope for anything better?

He knocked on the door with the side of his fist, almost hiding underneath the brim of his hat.

The door pulled opened slow and heavy, as the tall man with a thick moustache that he recognised as Mr Jameson appeared on the other side.

‘Mr Morgan,’ he said, his words curt as he looked down at him. ‘I don’t believe you were expected today.’ 

‘Nah, I ain’t…’ Arthur said, clearing his throat, ‘but I was hopin’ to speak to Miss Edwards.’

Mr Jameson held his silence, standing in the doorway with his eyes looking over every part of him. 

‘Very well,’ he said eventually as he stepped aside, gesturing Arthur in. 

He walked through into the marble entrance as two of the young maids walked passed with arms of laundry as they looked at him and giggled to each other not as silently as they hoped for.

‘Miss Edwards is in her study. Please follow me,’ Mr Jameson said, his tall stature walking towards the curved staircase and up onto the gallery. 

Arthur followed timidly, his footfall unusually uncertain as he felt a pressure in his head. 

The man said nothing as he knocked on the thick wooden door as Arthur heard Amelia’s voice from the other side, beckoning him to enter. His stomach flipped at the sound of her sweet voice. 

‘Wait here,’ the older man said as Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath as the door closed before him. 

He waited a moment, his shoulders tense and his mind reeling. 

What are you even doin’, Morgan?

It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually the door opened, as Mr Jameson stood before him, his eyes harbouring doubt. 

Perhaps he’d already put the pieces together about Arthur, but maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. It wasn’t like he was thinking straight after all. 

Arthur gave a terse nod and stepped into Amelia’s office as the door closed softly behind him. 

The way she rose from her desk, Arthur could have sworn she was ready to swallow him whole and spit him out. In all his years, he never felt so small, nor so afraid. 

The room was dark as the sun had now set with only a few oil lamps simmering and dancing in the corners of the room. 

‘Ma’am,’ he managed to muster as he removed his hat and held it, passing the brim through his hands. 

‘Mr Morgan,’ she said with a tight smile as she gestured at the chair in front of her desk, ‘I did not expect to see you so soon.’

He could hear her words, calculated and punctuating every last letter. He didn’t expect much else, and probably deserved even less. But all of this was for her. At least that’s what he told himself. 

He took the gesture, sitting demurely in the chair, expecting Amelia to be no warmer to him than the northern mountains. Whatever she said to him would at least never be the words that he had already said to himself. 

The regret was already eating him alive. 

Even in the bitterness that lined her face, he couldn’t help but soften towards her as he dragged his hand through his hair. 

‘How… how have you been?’ Arthur said with a slight choke in his throat. Pathetic, he caught himself thinking as her face - although had all the hardness he expected - remained passive. 

‘Fine,’ Amelia said, her lips pursed and eyebrows raised expectantly. ‘Drink?’ 

He nodded meekly as she moved swiftly from behind the desk to the drinks cabinet as he looked to his lap, doubtful that he would find the answers there that he needed.

If only Hosea was here to give me the clip I needed, he thought sarcastically. 

Amelia returned, passing him a very generous measure of whiskey as she returned to her seat, taking a large gulp as she folded her hands in front of her face with a distant gaze. 

‘Amelia -’

‘Is everything in order?’ Her voice was taut as she barely even looked at him. 

He paused for a moment. He knew he had fucked up, fucked up worse than any job that had gone wrong. It was staring him directly in the face, and yet he refused to let this lie. He was a lot of things, but a coward weren’t one of them. 

‘I…’ He began looking her up and down. The front of her hair framed her face so perfectly. Everything about her was so perfect and yet there he was, causing her nothing but pain. 

‘Shit,’ he sighed as he reached for the glass and swallowed hard and thick, his eyes closed as he drank like a man who had been stuck in the desert for a week. 

Wiping his chin, he slammed the glass on the table as Amelia’s shoulders tensed at the noise. 

‘Look, Amelia…’ 

Her lips parted, those precious lips that occupied every other thought he had since that night. 

‘Please, just listen.’ He said, his voice stern and hard, and he tried to meet her glare of sheer disregard. ‘This… all of this,’ he gestured broadly with his hand, the whiskey hitting him almost instantly. ‘Hell, I don’t even know where to begin.’

He sighed as he heard her breath draw in. 

‘Amelia, everythin’ I’m involved in now… it ain’t right, ain’t proper. It’s a goddamn mess.’ 

Nothing he said stirred her, a statue of beauty in a cage that he had caused. He’d seen it enough times, the walls that women built. He weren’t that much of a fool. 

‘I can’t…’ He said, barely above a whisper as his gaze dropped to the floor. 

‘What is it that you “cannot” Mr Morgan? Cannot protect the estate? As far as I was aware, that is exactly what you are employed to do, and nothing more.’ 

With that, she dropped her hands and looked at him with such venom he was sure even the likes of Abigail would shrink. 

He had no words, no excuses. All he knew was that she couldn’t be a part of it, a part of the mess he, Dutch, and everyone else had created for themselves. The running, the hiding, the scheming. The dying.

He tried to resist the ever burning fire, those tempting whispers that sang to him like a morning breeze. To throw it all over the cliff and reach out to her and to tell her he was a sorry, sorry fool.

‘My life ain’t simple. Never has been. And I doubt any time it will be. I just want you to be safe.’ 

She laughed, not a real one though. A laugh filled with morose, devoid of any humour while she grabbed for her drink. 

‘What is going on here, Arthur? Really?’ She gave a small shrug, and she shook her head in disbelief as she averted her gaze. ‘You humiliated me, and you’re talking about my damn safety?’ 

He couldn’t even look at her. Arthur had known what he’d done. Hell, it’s all he could think about since. 

Amelia had made herself vulnerable, had opened up to him and made her intentions known with that look that would be scorched into his mind until the day he died. 

‘I know. And I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice low, ‘but this can’t happen, Amelia. I don’t think you know -’ 

She stood suddenly; her drink swirling as she pointed her finger at him.

‘I don’t think you have any right to come here, to try to tell me what is or what isn’t. What to think and feel and that all of this is your fucking decision!’ 

Her voice rose to a shatter level as all her calmness dissolved. He almost crumbled to dust on the spot. 

Every part of him felt so ashamed. You left her there. He thought to himself; she had made her feelings as clear and as plain as day and yet he walked from her like she was as important as a hay bale.

He had done this to her, and there was no turning away from it.

‘Amelia, it ain’t like that!’ He couldn’t help it but he was angry, angry with himself as he stood too, reaching his hand towards her as she stepped back, her eyes rolling with a resounding nod of her head. 

‘Then what is it like? You knew what you were doing, and you said nothing. What was the plan, Arthur? Toy with me until it suited you and then drop me like it meant nothing? That I meant nothing?’ 

She sucked at her bottom lip, a wistful smile appearing on her face as she took another gulp. He could see the moisture in her eyes, like morning dew on the garden roses.

He wanted to tell her. God, he wanted to tell her. To tell her everything. The lies, the gang, how he was a wanted man in god knows how states with a bounty so large you could retire on it.

‘I just need you to understand, Amelia -’

‘It’s Miss Edwards. And the only thing I need to understand is whether you are fit enough to ensure the security of this property,’ she said with all the rancour he deserved as her drinking glass crashed onto the desk. ‘If you are not able to do that, I will hire someone more becoming.’ 

The withering look she gave him told her all he needed to know. Whatever excuse, any reason he could give her, would be nothing that could placate her. And he doubted he deserved anything else. 

She turned her back to him as Arthur sighed. He weren’t one for picking battles he was going to lose. 

‘Ma’am,’ he said, placing his hat back onto his head as she barely acknowledged his presence. 

He turned, making his way to the door, gripping the knob and turned it with a heavy heart. 

‘I thought…’ he heard her say those soft words, that voice so decent, so genteel. ‘I thought there was something between us.’ 

He felt his hand tighten around the golden doorknob, so much so he was convinced he would tear it off. His heart thrummed in his chest as he looked over his shoulder towards her. 

Just kiss her, you damn old fool. 

Arthur’s mind stopped, all sense gone, all warnings aside and all good reason had left his body like a loose thread singed over the campfire. 

He stomped over to her, grabbing her by the elbow turning her to face him as his other hand slunk around her waist. 

She looked away from him, almost pushing away from him as she refused to meet his gaze. 

Bang.

They both jumped as they looked toward the window, and then there was another. That unmistakable sound. The sound of gunfire. 

The flash of orange strobed through the air as the sound echoed outside as Arthur saw Amelia’s face run pale, her entire body tensing in his arms as she turned to look up at him. 

At that moment, two things happened. Before he had time to blink, his gun was in his hand and she ran for the door. Sprinting from the office, Amelia ran as the distant sound of her heels clipped down the stairs. 

‘Amelia!’ He roared, as he willed his feet to move. Somehow they obeyed him, as all of him felt numb and on fire at the same time. He followed her as the yells and distant screams filled his ears. 

If there was one thing all those damn skirts and corsets was good for was that she had barely made it to the front door before Arthur had nearly thrown himself down the staircase to catch up with her. 

‘Get inside!’ He yelled, as she threw open the door with both hands, her back arching as she threw all of her weight into it. 

‘Goddammit woman!’ Arthur cried, as he just managed to grab her shoulder on the front porch, the gunfight continuing somewhere ahead of them. 

‘Unhand me or give me a damn gun!’ she yelled, her face changing to an expression he had never seen her wear, but one he knew all too well.

‘Amelia, get upstairs and lock the door,’ he tried to say calmly, looking between her and the sounds behind him.

‘This is my estate!’ She tried to shrug his hand off, but he wasn’t letting her go anywhere other than back into the house. 

‘I know, but please, Amelia, I’m beggin’ you,’ he pleaded as she blinked at the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks. 

Gritting her teeth, she looked between him and the sounds deep in the grounds. She nodded slowly as he ferried her back towards the entrance.

‘Now listen, Amelia. Don’t open that damn door.’ Arthur said forcefully, his mind regressing to its natural state. The state of a killer. 

In less than a flash, the sound of a gun burst through the air around them and all time seemed to slow. 

Arthur turned and saw a man, his gun raised as the darkness shadowed him. 

‘Arthur!’ He heard Amelia cry, but she sounded so far away. He saw her blue eyes in the low light, wide and terrified. 

He aimed and pulled the trigger at the man, an action so simple, yet it had seemed to take hours. The man fell, a single bullet straight through the brain and the blood blew through the air. 

He heard Amelia scream; her dress once cream and unblemished, now painted with the splatter of crimson.

‘Get inside!’ He yelled at her again.

Against every instinct that told him to chase after her, he turned towards the stables, moving as quickly as he could in a crouch as he heard the door bolt satisfactorily behind him. And then he saw a familiar face.

‘Arthur ain’t it?’ The man said, the stable master with his hair falling over his eyes and his shirt half done up. 

Arthur nodded, his knuckles turning white around the wooden grip of the pistol. 

‘All the women inside? Thought I heard a scream?’ 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

The fight carried on; the bullets flying and sounding like corn in a hot pan. 

‘I think so,’ Arthur said, his gaze steady. 

‘Best get shooting then,’ the man said as he turned and Arthur followed. 

They ran towards the sounds as Talako, or whatever his name was, pointed with his pistol at the half wall before them. 

‘Any idea where they’re coming from?’ Arthur said, ducking his head, trying to make sense of the shit show he had run into. 

‘Nah,’ the man said, ‘they’re swarming us though.’ 

Arthur peeped his head over the brick, praying the darkness would shield him for the brief seconds he needed. 

Horses stamped and neighed, but he couldn’t see any. Bastards must have come in by foot, least it made for a slower moving target. 

He aimed his gun, cocking the hammer and shot, hoping it wasn’t one of the staff. 

‘I’m on you,’ Arthur said, turning to the man. ‘I ain’t got no clue who’s who.’ 

Talako looked at him with a twisted mouth. Hesitantly, he nodded. 

‘I’ll scout, you shoot.’ He said, balancing himself on his haunches.

And so they fought on, Talako peering over, instructing which o’clock the robbers were at as Arthur took aim and laid them to waste. 

The night was growing more humid as sweat dripped from underneath his hat and into his eyes. It was a dark night with a covered moon, and Arthur could barely see his hand in front of him. Luckily, the metallic glisten of gunfire was all he needed to keep his aim true. 

They moved forward when they could, but neither of the men were in the mood to take any risks. 

Eventually, they found their way near Mr Jameson, who covered them whilst they reloaded their empty pistols.

He was a good fighter. Even the stable master was competent, so thankfully before long the bullets ceased and the men could breathe. 

Arthur’s chest heaved with the life that was coursing through his veins as they looked around at the bodies on the floor. 

They certainly weren’t Raiders and didn’t look like O’Driscolls, neither. 

‘Check the bodies,’ Mr Jameson instructed them as a few of the other staff made their way out of cover. ‘Anyone injured?’ 

Arthur looked around and, aside from the shaken faces and panting, everything still seemed attached to where it should be. 

A few headshakes and a nod of gratification from Mr Jameson who seemed content that all heads were accounted for, Arthur got to checking the bodies. 

No cards, no insignia, rings, nothing. Even the label of their clothes had been cut from the seams. Whoever they were, they made a clear effort to cover who they were. 

After rummaging through every pocket he could find, Arthur shook his head. 

‘Ain’t nothing here,’ he sighed. ‘Only thing is these damn guns.’

Mr Jameson breathed through his nose heavily as Arthur walked around, collecting the firearms off of the ground. 

‘They’re good guns, don’t waste ‘em,’ Arthur said, handing them over to Mr Jameson as he took a smoke out of his pocket, lighting a match off of the bottom of his boots. 

‘You got the bodies?’ Arthur said, filling his aching lungs with smoke.

Mr Jameson nodded, turning the safety guard on each of the weapons.

‘Good. I’ll go check on the women,’ Arthur said, puffing on his cigarette and walking as quickly as his legs would allow him back towards the house and back towards Amelia.

[sabrinamichele]

The “In-between” space

It’s hard, talking about it—it feels like the white elephant in not just the room, but every single one of my relationships, and it’s just exhausting—my dating life, or the glaringly absence of one, as it were. Because it’s how we are wired, in our society, to think and to see people. You “should” be with someone. A half of “a whole,” a couple, a relationship, and god forbid you’re not, because then you’re, well, you’re not, and we need to “fix you.” Granted, no one actually says this to your face, but it’s felt. No matter what you’re doing, or have done, somehow your singleness is “your fault,” or there’s something you’re “not doing right.” It can’t be anything else now can it? Frankly, I’m very tired of the conversation, and I’m VERY over the completely unwelcome and unhelpful “advice” people give me like that will somehow be the key to “fix me.” To be clear, I am in love with the person I have become and grown into these past nine years I’ve spent finding myself being newly single. I am NOT broken, and I am NOT “less than” by being not part of a relationship. With that said, I’m not willing to settle (not any more—I settled, without meaning to, in my marriage for eleven years, and I don’t intend to spend another day of my life doing so), which is the biggest reason I am still single. I am self aware, and I have spent half of my life going through some incredibly hard shit, and then some, so this woman isn’t willing to accept anything less than the genuine article, so that just means it’s harder to find, and I’ve tried my best to make my peace with the fact that this means more time spent alone. And I am, and I’m learning to find peace here in the “in between.” My life right now feels like I’m in the waiting room, for so many things, that I am waiting and hoping will come to pass, sooner rather than later, but in the meantime, trying my damndest to not go crazy in the waiting. (Apologies as that sentence alone was insane itself.)

I know I haven’t written in a very long time, and I still have a very vulnerable, difficult post I need to share (soon), but as I sit here in this moment, these words find themselves needing to come to the surface, so I will make space for them now. I find myself grieving right now; not even a person, so much, as “what could have been” with a new person I met. In the almost nine years I have been dating, it’s given me so many opportunities to meet people, and so many “what ifs,” if you will, with some incredible humans (and, the flip side of that coin, some not so incredible humans). Thankfully, the first list is much longer than the latter. With that said, I feel like there’s no space for the “what ifs” in life. And maybe it’s the romantic in me that’s even pausing to think about it now, but I do think about this, especially as I’m getting older and the amount of times life allows you to meet someone and have an absolutely incredible moment with them and find genuine true connection, how do we not then take a moment to grieve the “what if” of what could have been with that person? It feels that we’ve become so quick to brush it away, to tell the person who’s grieving, “well they weren’t meant for you, then,” but do we ever pause and stop and say, “It sounds like there could have been something there with this person. I’m sorry that didn’t turn into something more.” I don’t know anymore. How to think about dating, how to talk about dating. But I am tired of hearing the same bullshit. If one more person tells me I need to lower my standards, i.e., settling, I will fucking scream. So, if you’re reading this, and you are “an offender,” or have told your friend “what to do” to “help them,” please stop. Please just be empathetic and listen. And say, “I’m sorry. That must be so hard.” That’s it. We don’t need you to “fix it.” We don’t need your advice (we already get an ear-full). We need you to just be there. That’s it.

As I’m coming out of a disappointing weekend, and a disappointing trip, I find, even here, despite another person disappointing me, I am hopeful. Against all odds. And grateful. So incredibly grateful to the human beings who have showed up for me these past few months. It’s been an incredibly difficult transitionary period for me, coming out of what has felt like never ending hard shit and chaos for the past three years since I was told I was losing my townhouse, and even before that. But in the few months I have found some calm following the storm, I have found a new and exciting new direction and goal, and it’s both scary and exciting, but it’s also helping me to find my way in this hard space that is the “in-between.” I promise to share more when I’m ready to, but for now, I wanted to share this.

When I think about these words, and how they’re perceived/taken by my reader, I know there’s nothing I can say that will change the way that these words are taken, or how people will continue to see me, or other single people like me. What I want, more than anything, to leave you with is this—Do not pity me. Yes, it is sad, and there has been so much loss and hard shit along this journey. But it has also come with so much growth, and so much love, even with each loss, such love. I have lived more in these nine years than so many get to in a lifetime. And I am so damn proud of the woman who’s writing these words today. No, I am not in a relationship. And no, I don’t have it all figured out. But please don’t find me sad. Please, see me as the strong, resilient woman who hasn’t let life keep her down and who still, unyieldingly, believes in love. And believes she will one day find a partner worthy of said love. Because that is the woman I am. Single, yes. Sad, sometimes. But not “sad”—not sad for reinventing her life after her husband walked out nine years ago. I believe I stand in this in between space representing all that can exist outside of what society would like to tell us is, “all there is,” and still finding a beautiful and fulfilled existence, even here. There is more.

All that said, this is still hard. And it takes a toll as I am, as Brené Brown wrote, “wired for belonging and connection.” I still long for connection and love, so I am grieving someone, or the “what could have been” with this person. And as small as that is in the grand scheme, it feels like the moment I needed to finally share some of the things that have been weighing on my heart lately.

For those here with me in this season of singleness, I hope you feel seen and comfort in these words, even if our experiences aren’t the same.

For those who are not, I hope you read these words with maybe a different appreciation for the single experience, and I hope a different approach to how you talk to your single friends going forward.

And to my dear friends who keep showing up, I love you. I couldn’t do this without you. And I hope I never have to. ❤️

Here’s to the hard moments in life, even the sad moments. As unfortunate as they are, I also know they are temporary, and they are the other side of the coin that is some of life’s sweetest moments. Here’s to all of the as of yet unknown, sweet, happy, joyful moments of life (and love) I still have ahead. I’m here, and I’m ready.

Love always,

Me ❤️

[the1975attheirverybest]

No that’s so true, it is him. It’s really sad because whenever im drunk all I think about is him but whenever he’s drunk, it’s like he hates me and im getting in his way of having a good time.

I feel I’ve made an awful mistake agreeing to move back home for uni, but atleast I’ve realised it now before we’ve decided to move in together and stuff. I mean look at me, 21 years old and thinking about getting house with a guy??? I’m literally a baby 🥹 I don’t want to move back home next year and live here forever, I want to experience life away from my family again, I really enjoy that and my family enjoy seeing me happy when im away too. He’s the only person that isn’t happy about it.

Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t expecting him to be really happy about me wanting to move away, but I didn’t expect him to persuade me to stay. I don’t have many friends at home, but he argued that I have “no friends at uni” which is so not true. I have lots of amazing friends at uni.

I took him to Edinburgh last week as a birthday trip for him. It was a disaster. He was on his phone the whole time, even at dinner. I was looking around when we were in bars and stuff and people were so engrossed in their conversations and here I was staring at my boyfriend who was constantly on his phone. He complained the whole time about anything and everything, and it really got to me because I’m a broke student rn, I don’t really have the money to be taking us to Edinburgh but I saved for it and he didn’t really appreciate it.

All of these things are just adding up and adding up. I’m really scared to break up with him, he’s so manipulative and I know it won’t be a clean break up, he’ll call me for months and won’t stop texting me. Even if I block his number, he’ll find a way. And stupid me will forgive him because it’s easier to see him content than angry and upset.

Thank you so much tho to both you and Vee! I need you both on my shoulders all day repeating your advice to me 😂 you’re both so lovely and Im so glad I reached out. I don’t feel stupid anymore like he makes me feel. 🩷🩷

Is there any way that you can get out of moving back? If you break up with him, could you get a flat share with a friend or something? You don’t have to do this! Not if you don’t want to!

What a selfish person he must be to feel entitled enough to spend his birthday trip, an expensive and difficult thing to save up for, on his phone! I’d wanna spend a special time like this with my loved ones, socially the loved one who planned this whole trip!!!! Fr I think if anyone did something that sweet for me I might just cry.

I hope you’ll dump his ass sooner rather than later. It doesn’t sound like he appreciates how giving you are. In fact it sounds like he takes advantage of your kindness. There are only so many chances you can give to someone who isn’t reciprocating.

I know it’s hard. But you have to remember that it’s over. He may not WANT it to be over, which is why he’ll have things to say and try to reach out, but you don’t even have to read his texts or emails or dms or anything. You can just delete them or have a friend do it for you. Once it’s over, you’re not his gf anymore you don’t owe him time or energy or respect. He’s a stranger to you. You got shit to do. A life to live.

Please write back soon to give me the good news that you left him. 🩷

[itshiddeninthewords]

Later Rather Than Sooner… Oops

Entry: October 23rd 2023

7:46pm

I know, I know. It’s been a long time.

Another year has passed and again, so much has changed. I just read through all my entries and that seems to be a recurring thing. Constant change.

Does it ever stop?

Doubtful.

I’m permanently living in Wauchula, at least for the next few years.

I’m shutting down my LLC.

Man, oh man. I tried to save her but at the end of the day, I just wasn’t happy doing that work anymore. It was time to say good bye and move on.

And move on, I did.

I’m currently working full time at L Cobb Construction/Cobb Site Development in their AP department.

Truthfully, I love it so much. I really appreciate my team and I look forward to my future here.

I lived with my brother for a year and ended up taking over his lease at the apartment he lived in. Not gunna lie, I adore our little apartment and the little life we live here. It’s beginning to feel so full.

My mom is thankfully still alive. She still lives at The Palms and things are much better there. Her current nurse is the best. Same with Vitas.

Who she currently has is a great fit and I hope they stick around for awhile.

My dad’s house caught on fire and almost burned down. Him and Catherine are safe and now in (beautiful) temporary housing.

The lost almost everything. Catherine was in NY and my dad was alone while all this happened. He shouldn’t have faced it alone… again. Why is he always alone?

Let’s move on.

I’m not Two Spirit and was way off base. I felt the need to have another stamp that marked me as native and I need to stop feeling like I have something to prove. I don’t.

I’m a woman who dressing more masculine, but still a woman nonetheless.

We kept Scarn and I’m so fucking thankful for that.

Magni & Dart died though… that was hard.

Me and my husband have worked on so many things and we’re doing really good. I love him so much and I’m so thankful that we’ve continued to chose each other.

Gabi is still one of the worst friends I’ve ever had.

She continues to find ways to make my life difficult.

I tried out poly again for a little bit.

Decided once again that it wasn’t for me.

I keep wanting to look elsewhere to fill faults in my marriage.. not cool. So I told him it’s wasn’t healthy or okay and I’d rather commit to us.

I was the one dating - so it wasn’t a problem stepping away from things.

I met a few women but it just wasn’t it. Not because of them, it really was a me thing.

I’ve officially been gluten free for a year and it was one of the best decisions I ever made. Veganism is popping back up on my brain but I don’t know.

I never wrote that book but I do want to publish. I’m thinking about novellas though - or maybe poetry.

Hmm, life is so strange man.

& I’m not talking about the game.

This has been such a wild time.

— EB

8:17pm

[beaversatemygrandma]

alright alright alright. Thought and goal organization now.

So. I have an appointment for a driver’s test March 20th. Fantastic. Perfect. Enough time to finish up spoofing an entire damn log even though i have enough hours just didn’t actually log anything as i went. Gonna pretend I drove to Lincolnton for one of them. (I didn’t. Just long drive buffer there.) Then, when i get my license, because i really can drive safely and legally and totally fine. I get comfortable with driving highways for long periods of time. Highways aren’t the worse, just this area’s highways are tbh, but then again, there’s a nightmare of a city on I-95 on the way back to the hometown, so i have to have enough of a steady mind to be able to get through that without shutting down literally an hour from home. There are no other problem cities than the one I’m in currently and the one that’s an hour from home. Just those two. Georgia and South Carolina are rather boring to drive through on 95 and that’s a good thing. Small towns, signs about peaches, The Most Glorious Truck Stop in Savannah. It’ll be fine. Now, getting there will be something. I sure can’t fit all my shit into my tiny Camry. Now, will come seeing if my dad can get a few days off for a drive to FL, he’ll get the bonus of visiting with my other sister and maybe a day or two of just being in FL. It’ll most likely happen in the summer when my sister isn’t to be worried about having school or anything. Now, as bad as I’d want to be there by April, I think I’ll be having to wait until late May again. Then avoiding the guilt trip that I should stay for my 13yo sister. I tried helping her with homework last night and after she repeatedly interrupted me verbally thinking this math problem through trying to involve her like a teacher would, she would just continuously say “I don’t know, i can’t do it. I don’t remember.” Like. I cut off and just started going “You can. You do know. You can do this.” And she started faking crying to get me to feel bad and I’m assuming to just give her the answers, which i did not know and why i was trying to ask for her notes or to at least pull out a sheet of paper to visualize these online questions on. But no, the notebook was at school, and “I don’t feel like getting a paper.” Didn’t work. I got mad and gave up. No help for anybody who doesn’t want help. This isn’t even the only time it happens. I try to give her advice on how to deal with depression and anxiety. Like, that’s my whole damn life, I can easily give advice on how to cope with it. But no. I’m talking down to her. I’m controlling her by tell her to do something that helps the brain start thinking straight. She doesn’t want help. I can’t help her. This isn’t my problem anymore. I have given up. Like with that math problem, like an hour later once my mind had calmed down from literally getting yelled at with the most hopeless sentences, the solution became clear. I was literally able to solve that problem in my head once I had focus. I can easily explain it if i had a page to write on. That’s just how math is. You need the written visual there. But No. Too lazy for paper. That’s just not trying. Math works better when you can organize it yourself. I have given up on helping those who don’t want to be helped. I can only do so much. That is beyond me. Not my circus. Not my monkey.

I want to be on my own again. I want to live my own life again. And then now at the hometown, I’ve got somebody who i know will be there with me when i want to go out into the world. There’s somebody there who wants to literally do everything with me. I end up talking about various ideas and just what all i want to do, and he’s right there with me. It’s time to get out of the quarantine rut. The problem may not be over, but at least things are manageable now and we can at least attempt to be happy instead of hiding away.

Now to hope that it manages to happen sooner than later. I’m sick of waiting. I want to live my own life again.