#this is nothing on my dutch btw this is everything on me just forgetting what gender i made them originally

[vogelmeister]

twas writing one (1) sentence in dutch and accidentally transed someones gender LMAO

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello ! Can u write an imagine where Arthur s/o kills Micah and she is banned from the gang. Would Arthur follow her ? Thank u :)

Man, I have been in the biggest writing funk for the first time in like nine months but I finally got this one done! Here you go, Anon! Sorry about the wait. 

(Author’s note: Arthur doesn’t have TB) (BTW, Arthur is husband material and no one can change my mind)

It’s already been a long, exhausting day and it’s not even midday yet. You hate it here, always will without a doubt. Beaver Hollow is just a complete shit show and the gang has seriously deteriorated. 

You miss how things used to be. You can remember how everyone was: Mary-Beth and Tilly giggling over romance novels, Sean bragging about how tough and smart he was, Uncle’s jokes, Hosea’s stories about his past and how he always added a note of wisdom. Oh Hosea. He was just another casualty of Dutch’s plight against modern America. 

Everything’s changed since Hosea died and the boys returned from their tropical trip. Javier doesn’t sing or play the guitar anymore, no one laughs, people fight constantly. It’s a burden and a pain to be in the camp nowadays, and you hate it. The person who’s changed the most though is Dutch. He’s not the caring, almost paternal figure who was just struggling slightly to help everyone get back on their feet like he was right after the Blackwater mess. Now he seems to be on a suicide mission and intent on taking everyone in the gang with him. 

The worst thing about the whole situation is Micah. He’s always known how to butter Dutch up but when Hosea was around, he kept himself in check. Now that Hosea’s gone, he’s been in Dutch’s ear the whole time and you haven’t liked it. You’re not the only one; Arthur and John have been suspicious about the whole thing. 

Arthur’s faith in Dutch has been severely shaken. He questions Dutch much more than he ever used to. Dutch doesn’t like it, and he keeps on lying, saying he’s going to get everyone out. All he’s done is killed Cornwall, blown up a bridge, brought Pinkertons closer to camp than ever and used the war between the army and the Wapiti into his favor, even getting the chief’s son locked up during a feud. 

Arthur walks over to your tent after donating a deer to Pearson, who’s drunk again. He’s been coming to you to talk a lot more lately, though you’re not sure why. You’ve had a crush on Arthur for ages but never acted on it. You two have been friends for what seems like forever and you refuse to destroy that over some silly feelings you have. You’ve wondered if Arthur has a crush on you too. It’s just the way he acts sometimes, things he says. The way he wanted you to come with him to tell Mary he didn’t want to be her errand boy anymore. The way you catch him staring at you sometimes. How he always wants you to go off hunting with him but won’t invite anyone else. 

Just as he’s about to say something to you, Dutch calls him over. Arthur gives you a yearning look and then turns around to go see him. A few moments later, someone catches your attention, pulling you away from your work, with their voice. It isn’t Arthur, though or even John or Mary-Beth. It’s Micah. 

“Ah glad to see you’re putting an effort into keeping this place running. We can use all the help we can get,” he simpers. 

“The fuck do you want, Micah?” you snarl. 

Micah’s always been a pebble in everyone’s shoes but now with Hosea out of the way and Dutch going crazy, he’s been acting like he’s in charge of things. He keeps badgering people to do their chores (which most of them have been) and that everyone needs to pull their weight. This doesn’t bother you, what does bother you is the hypocrisy of it all. He never does a damn thing. The last job he helped with was murdering Cornwall but you felt he did it out of a personal interest and less of a needs-to-be done basis. 

“Always gotta be so bitter,” he says, smiling. “You know, if you were a little nicer, people might actually like you. Too bad nothing can be done to make you pretty though. Unfortunately you’ll just have to stick to nice but ugly.” 

You throw down the sewing you’d just been doing and stand up, marching over to him. He wisely takes several steps backwards as you whip out your pistol. 

“Give me one more goddamn reason, you cockroach,” you hiss. “I won’t hesitate to kill you.” 

He whips out his own gun and points it at you. “You don’t have the guts, little girl.” 

“Wanna bet? You ain’t the first person I killed, though I’m not sure I can really define you as a person.” 

By this time, your argument has attracted the attention of many of the others. They form a circle and watch, but no one dares interrupt. You get the feeling that most of them want you to kill him. The majority of them have had problems with him too. 

“Woe!” Dutch says, walking over with his hands in the air. “There is no need to have guns drawn in camp. Both of you fools, put them away.” 

He stands next to Micah and glares from him to you. Arthur stands a few feet behind him and shakes his head at you, clearly trying to stop you from doing something reckless.

“She started it, Dutch,” Micah says, his gun still drawn. 

“Bullshit! You’re the one going around insulting everyone. Trust me, if I don’t shoot you now, someone else will. Like Lenny said back in Colter, when you fall there’ll be a party.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growls. “Keep flapping your gums and you’ll end up just like Lenny and Hosea. Better yet, maybe you’ll get your head shot off like good ol’ Sea-”

Before he can finish, he’s silenced by your bullet slamming into his neck. He sputters and drops his gun, grabbing at his gushing neck. People start yelling and Javier and Bill grab you, making you drop your gun. 

“Let go of me!” you scream as Micah falls to his knees. Dutch glares at you, clearly shocked. As Micah slumps down onto his stomach, he stomps towards you. Javier and Bill hold your arms tight and you can’t fight them off. 

“You know the rules, Y/N,” Dutch says quietly. “There’s absolutely no reason to shoot anyone in camp unless they’re traitors.”

“How do you know Micah wasn’t a traitor, Dutch?” you snarl. “Ever since Guarma, those damn Pinkertons have been nipping at your heels more than ever.” 

Dutch lowers his brow. “I’m going to give you five minutes to get away from here. Never come back, Y/N. I never want to see you around here again.” 

Javier and Bill let you go, but you look around, silently pleading with the others to help you. No one does and your eyes finally fall onto Arthur. His mouth is partially open but his eyes say he wishes you hadn’t done it. He says nothing though, and you feel your stomach drop. Of course he’d choose Dutch over you. He’s known him for twenty years and Dutch saved his life. You’ve only known him a few years and maybe helped him get out of a few scrapes. You’ve got nothing on Dutch when it comes to Arthur. You don’t blame him either. No matter what kind of mess Dutch has gotten everyone into, Arthur’s been doing his best to keep things together. All you’ve done is create a bigger mess for him to clean up. 

You know it’s time for you to leave. There’s no doubt in your mind that Dutch is just crazy enough to kill you, and the clock is ticking. You push your way between Tilly and Karen and go to your tent, packing everything up quickly. You feel everyone’s eyes on your back until Grimshaw barks at everyone to get to work and for Charles and John to get Micah’s body taken out of camp. You throw everything onto your horse and then run off down the path, feeling your heart break. You’ll never see any of them again, not even Arthur. Your best friend and the man you love will never be part of your life again. 

********************************

It’s been three weeks since you were forced to leave camp. You’ve gone back west, back to where you’ve always belonged. You’ve found a small cabin not too far from Aurora Basin in Tall Trees. When you first arrived, the cabin had clearly been abandoned for a long time. You cleaned it up and made it habitable. You’ve decided to hang up the hat on being an outlaw. The Pinkertons won’t be coming out this way looking for the Blackwater robbers, not when they know exactly where Dutch is, so you’re safe out here. Besides, you weren’t even involved in that mess, so no one will associate you with that. 

It’s been lonely but peaceful out here. No more having to rob people, no more feeling like you’re chasing your own tail in Dutch’s crazy schemes. No more having to worry about anyone else besides yourself. You’ve missed them though, all of them. You miss joking with Tilly and Karen, discussing books with Mary-Beth, listening to Javier’s stories about Mexico. Even Pearson’s cooking since you’re not much of one yourself. 

More than all of that though, you miss Arthur. You miss the sound of his voice, the conversations you had during long hunting trips. He was the only person you could tell anything to. There were many nights you spent under the stars with him and even a few curled against him to keep out the cold. You miss the way he smelled, the way he’d hesitatingly touch you. You two were a perfect hunting team, you were able to track and kill prey without hardly saying a word. You try to settle with the idea that you’ll just have to reminisce in the memories of him but to forget a future with him in it. Not that you had much hope for that before. Arthur may have told Mary to take care of herself from now on, but you always knew he;d never go for you. 

You’ve been fishing in the lake for some time and gotten hardly any luck. You sigh and decide to call it a day, collapse your pole and pick up your almost empty bucket. You head up the road, feeling lonely and missing the company of your family. When you round the bend leading to your cabin, you look up and see a familiar face. 

“Arthur?” you say quietly, not sure if he’s really there or not. 

He rubs his jaw and looks at you, clearly searching for the right words. You stop and look for him, your stomach clenching. Has Dutch sent him? Dutch said you only had five minutes to get out of camp, but not that he wouldn’t hunt you down. The only reason you can think that Arthur’s here is because Dutch told him to find and kill you. You hover your hand over your gun, hoping you won’t have to use it. 

“Arthur, please let me explain,” you say. “You know Micah was just making things worse. Let’s just put this all behind us, okay? Just tell Dutch you killed me, at least do me that favor.” 

“Dutch didn’t send me, Y/N,” he says softly, his hands on his gunbelt. He takes a step towards you but stops when you back up, clearly worried. He raises his hands. “I ain’t here to hurt ya, darlin’.” 

Darlin’? He’s never called you that before. He’s always addressed you by your name. If you didn’t know Arthur, you’d think he might be lying and pretending to be harmless, but you know him too well. He doesn’t lie. 

You blink heavily, feeling your eyes water. “Why else would you be here, Arthur?” 

He sighs and takes another step towards you, his hands still up. “Y/N, I ain’t followin’ Dutch no more. You said it weeks ago, he’s gone crazy. He didn’t get better when you left either. Micah might not have been around to stir him up, but he’s just gone worse. He was real angry when Charles and I went and broke Eagle Flies out of jail, tryin’ to clean up his mess.” 

Arthur goes on to say how the army tried to kill Chief Rains Fall for the oil on his land and how the gang went to help try and save Eagle Flies as he went to get revenge for his people. By the end, Arthur got trapped beneath a soldier and nearly killed. Dutch had been the only one there and could have easily saved him, but chose not to. When Arthur confronted him about it, a huge fight broke out between them and Arthur decided he’d had enough. He snuck John, Abigail and Jack out that night and then decided to find you. 

“I knew you’d come out west, Y/N. You’re too much like me, this is where you’ve always wanted to belong.” 

“But why would you want to come after me, Arthur? I understand why you left, but why come after me?” 

He lowers his hand and walks up to you until he’s only a couple feet away. “Because I care about ya, Y/N.” His gruff voice is soft, sending shivers down your arms. “Because you’ve always tried to help me. If you’d been there, I know you woulda saved my life, not leave me to die like Dutch did. I did everything I could for him, even almost died for him multiple times. I gave him everything I had and got nothin’ to show for it. I’m done, darlin’. I want to be with you.” 

Your entire body is shaking as he talks. He closes the distance between you and wraps his arms around you. What little strength you had holding you together crumbles and you sink into his chest, tears leaking out of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry I weren’t there for ya when you killed Micah,” he says, rubbing your back. “To be honest, I was happy when you killed Micah. He’s been a giant thorn in my side since he showed up and I’ve wanted to shoot him myself since Sean died. I was just shocked that you’d done it so quickly. I shoulda gone with you when Dutch forced you out.” 

You shake your head into his shirt. “No, it’s good you didn’t. If you’d left with me, Dutch would have hunted both of us down. He knows how essential you are to everything, he wouldn’t like it if you left with me.” 

He sighs and leans his cheek against your head. “Well, I’m here now, darlin’. If you’ll have me, I’d like to stay with ya as long as I possibly can. You’re my best friend and…” He pauses so long you look up at him to find his cheeks red. “I gotta be honest, Y/N, I’ve been sweet on ya for years.” 

It’s your turn to blush and you smile. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“We had things so good, Y/N. We been friends so long, worked so well together, I didn’t wanna ruin that. Besides, I know you wouldn’t have feelings for me. I’m just an old, dirty outlaw. I ain’t worth no one’s time.” 

You grimace at him. “Arthur, I hate how poorly you view yourself. You wanna know what I think about you?” 

“I suppose, though I doubt it’ll be anythin’ good.” 

You sigh and stretch up, placing your lips against his. They’re soft, though slightly chapped. He tenses up when you touch him but after a second he responds. His lips move with yours and you trace his with your tongue. After a moment, you pull away. He’s cheeks are darker but he’s smiling. 

“That’s what I think of you, Arthur. I’d love it even more if you decided to stay with me. I’ve been sweet on you for the longest time, it’s been so hard for me to keep it out of our relationship. I just didn’t wanna ruin our friendship.” 

He smiles in and leans in to kiss you again. You feel the first surge of excitement and happiness since you got kicked out of the gang. You can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you now.

[hopetofantasy]

‘Tout oublier’

Title: ‘Tout oublier’ Square Filled: Crackship Ship: Jens Stoffels/Robbe Ijzermans  Trigger Warnings (if applicable): none applied. Mostly longing and softness, no kissing or smut  - only hinted at. Created for @skamevents 

Notes: As a huge VDS and Sobbe supporter, I challenged myself to write something outside my own comfort zone. A crackship that I don’t entirely support, but hey, I tried my best! :) (Btw, who can spot the cameo?)

The title comes from an ‘Angèle’ song, a Belgian singer Luca referenced (and sang along with) in S2. I thought it fit this work like a glove.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour. It’s about time that you showed up!”

A seemingly casual statement, answered by a mischievous smile. Long brown locks radiating a ‘I just got laid’ look, covered by a two sizes too big sweatshirt. Clearly not his own. Dark eyes anxiously darted towards his. 

Oh yes, my dear, you are in so much trouble now.

“Robbe, what were you thinking?! You just went with the guy, like that, without saying anything to us. We couldn’t find you anywhere! You didn’t answer any texts or calls, we had no clue where you were! He could’ve been a rapist for all we know! How could you be so irresponsible?!”

Wow, back up there, turbo. You need to relax. 

He slowly lifted up his hand to pinch his nose, in a desperate attempt to relax. Breath in, breath out. Damn, it wasn’t his intention going off like that, especially since he looked like a parent now. Robbe didn’t deserve this. Not only because they were best friends, but also roommates. Broerrrs, but there was still a line. 

Don’t go there, Jens. You’re not responsible for everything he does. 

He just wished the boy would listen. It’s a harsh world out there, especially for LGBT youngsters. And they didn’t know the neighborhood that well. They’ve only just moved in, like, a month ago. The boysquad knew a thing or two about Antwerp, but Ghent? A whole other ballpark. Even though, you know, the fishing pond was bigger here than it ever was in Antwerp, he had to admit. 

Soooo not the point, Stoffels. 

Robbe pulled out a smile, watery smile. He knew exactly what he was doing, with the innocent Bambi look. A hand on his shoulder, a reassuring nod, yet with a hint of irritation. 

“Yeah, okay, Jens, I’m sorry I didn’t leave a message. But if I wanted to have sex with some random dude, then that’s my choice. Something I decided. What I wanted to to! Alright? I don’t want people parenting me. I already have a father, well, only my father, but-”

The smaller boy paused for a while. A glimpse of hurt clouded his face, for just a second. Just enough to weaken Jens’ anger. He knew how hard it all had been, coming out in the midst of his father’s mental health. Oliver had worked too hard for his family. To keep it all together. Completely burned out, the specialist had said. He kept trying to provide a good home for his son, despite every financial struggle they faced in the past. 

Jens knew Robbe blamed himself for this. Even though it was never his fault, the scars were there nevertheless. He sighed and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry.”

Ever since high school, he had felt responsible for the boy. Trying to compensate for everything people did that made it all harder. So when Robbe asked him to be his roommate, he said ‘yes’ on the spot. Now he only needed to learn about their boundaries, where they lie and what they were. 

Since Robbe walked into the room, he had felt something stir in his stomach. Relief? What else could it have been? That the other was safe, at home. Or what you could call their home. A four-by-four dorm room, entirely filled with boys’ sweatshirts, leftover pizza boxes and mismatched furniture. 

Yet, something still gnawed in the inside. To be honest, he never knew Robbe was the type of guy for random hook-up with a random stranger. Jens always thought that was more his forté. Robbe was the romantic, doe-eyed boy with the heart on his sleeve. So maybe Jens didn’t want to be left behind? Especially now that they’re both out and proud, with way more game than their small town high school. 

Was it that what’s bothering him?  

“Hmmm, whatever, bro. Next time, chill out. I’d rather not tell you every time I go with a guy. It’s bad enough that we share a space with barely any breathing room. I’ll be hearing too much of you anyways. And vice versa”, Robbe huffed. He pushed his roommate out of the way and started to undress for bed, before flopping down. Almost passing out immediately. 

Jens’ features started to soften a little. Gosh, it was sometimes unnerving how easily Robbe could get away with things, by pulling his infamous puppy eyes and awkward jokes. It turned everyone’s insides into mush. 

Nobody could stay mad at him, ever. His roommate was wired like that. So it also didn’t come as a shock when Robbe mumbled the following:

“I still have his number, by the way, if you would like to ‘have a go’ at it”

What did came as a shock, however, was how fast a pillow could hit a face that didn’t expect retaliation. 

The topic of hook ups came up again a few weeks after that.

“So, Jens, if you had to choose: would you rather kiss a boy or a girl? I mean, you do have a preference, right?”, Moyo coughed out with great effort. This question was instantly answered by a bitch slap to the head, followed by a collective fit of laughter. 

The boys were lying on the common room floor, in the midst of their building, passing around the joint. They had been binging on chocolate bars before. Empty wrappers still scattered around their heads, close enough to ball one up and hit Moyo. He deserved it. The boy wasn’t exactly known for his friendly behavior. On the contrary.

“What kind of question is that? I don’t care. So why would you?”, Jens  answered hazily. He’d already grown tired of these questions in the first months of his coming out, when everyone walked up to him to ask really personal stuff. ‘Did you have sex with boys before?’ ‘Are you sure that you are bisexual and not just homosexual?’ ‘You’re now attracted to everyone, right?’

“I don’t, bro. I’m just asking, because I have some options for you. As in, hot girls’ numbers in my phone and friends who know hot single gays. So, if you’re want, just say so. I can hook you up with anyone. Male or female. I mean, it’s been ages, right? When was the last time you got laid?!” 

Another laugh accompanied Moyo’s loud howl. “It’s true, you know, I’ve gotten more D than you in these last few months.” Gosh, Robbe was such a traitor. Jens sighed and pulled himself up by the elbows, looking around the group of misfits. Aaron was already dosing off next to him. No surprise there, he never could handle his weed. 

Especially Dutch marihuana. 

Out of nowhere, Moyo started humming a popular rap song, instantly forgetting what he asked minutes before. Robbe joined in by tapping his fingers on his bleached jeans. A burgundy beanie covered his eyes as well as the messy mop of hair. Jens found himself more and more fascinated by his best friend’s locks lately, ever since he started growing it past his shoulders again. He never noticed how nicely they framed his face. 

“I can fix my own hook ups, broerrrs. I don’t need any help.”, Jens huffed out eventually after being distracted by the sudden change. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Jens, you don’t even hang out with anyone but us lately!”, the brunette retaliated. He immediately snatched the joint out of Jens’ hands, blowing some smoke clouds into the air. Jens caught himself looking at it. 

The smoke... 

The eyes...

The lips...

Euhm, what? What the hell was this? Since when I stare at my roommate’s lips? Okay, maybe, maybe I do need some relief after all. That could be the only reason I want to stare at Robbe. 

Right?

Right? 

Right?

His mind was still frazzled, but he was eventually able to huff out an agreement towards Moyo. The latter one pulled out his phone immediately to check out the options. A tall leggy blonde? A beautiful chocolate colored man? A petite pixie-cut brunette? Wow, Moyo didn’t overreact when he said that he knew people. 

They finally settled on a guy Jens had spotted in the local skatepark before. A somewhat rugged, beach blonde with beautiful eyes. Leather jacket, artsy vibe? He seemed cool. Moyo’s friend Noor had been to school with this dude. It wasn’t necessarily his type, but hey, it was just for one night. Nothing more. 

So it was a date. 

Kinda. 

Then why was his brain still picturing smoke on a certain someone's lips?

The thought still occupied his mind a couple of days later. Jens never knew how this situation came to be. How he suddenly felt something towards Robbe. Attraction. Because that’s exactly what it was. There was no way of denying it. He had felt it for weeks, maybe even months, without acknowledging it. He couldn’t be feeling this. It was wrong, so completely wrong!

Robbe was Robbe, he was like a brother, he was his best friend and roommate. 

Okay, there was only one way to get over someone, Moyo always said: 

“Get under someone!”

So why didn’t he? 

The cute guy in front of him was the perfect distraction. He was a smooth talker, a sight for sore eyes and surely knew his way around guys as well as girls. He was pansexual, he explained, gender didn’t matter to him. When he liked someone, he liked someone. Didn’t think twice about it. And he seemed to like Jens. Enough to kiss him. Enough to go back to his dorm room.

Except...

Something in Jens closed down the moment they arrived at the door. His date seemed to have felt his hesitation, immediately stopping the trail of kisses from his ear to his shoulder. The air between them seemed to cool down in mere seconds, filled with insecurity and unanswered questions. A leather jacket was the only sound heard in the heavy silence. 

“You don’t want to do this, do you?”

Jens’ eyes said it all. He knew that he didn’t need to tell the stranger what he felt. People always claimed the dark haired boy was an open book, which was a blessing as well as a burden. God, why couldn’t he just do this? Just be with a guy, any guy, especially one as attractive as this one and get it all over with? Stop being such a frikking dumbo and take him inside!

But he didn’t move. He wasn’t truthful to himself, to the other boy, to Robbe. He needed to end this before it even started. It wasn’t right. So he slowly backed away from the beach blonde and said his fast goodbyes along with a string of sorrys. The other seemed to accept this sudden change of behavior, with a knowing glint in his eyes. As if he knew how much of a mess his head felt. As if he’d experienced something like this before. 

Once inside, he’d only wished he had stayed with his date. Robbe was lying on the floor, seemingly upset, clinging to an old stuffed animal. Red rimmed eyes. His hair a total mess. Sobbing like a baby. His own heart shattered on the spot.

A chernobyl explosion. 

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”, he whispered silently. 

He tried to look inside those brown eyes he liked so much. The ones who moved his world, made him feel all things at once. He needed to see what caused this distress. Because Robbe didn’t cry. Ever. He didn’t cry when his mom left at age 10, he didn’t cry when he father got diagnosed at age 15 and he didn’t even cry when his grandparents called him hurtful names when he came out to them at age 17.

Jens slowly crawled towards the smaller boy, hauling his body off the floor and cradling his head into his arms. The soft touch confused his heart. He knew Robbe was able to hear the thrumming beat, but he could care less at the moment. His boy was crying. His boy needed reassurance. So he held him tight and listened. Listened to the hiccups and the slurring speech, the wails and the cries. Half an hour later, Robbe was finally able to answer the question.

“Dad... he couldn’t deal with me leaving. Broke down completely. He’s inside the hospital, psychiatric ward, Jens. They don’t know if he’ll ever heal from this. He’s empty. He’s clinically depressed. He doesn’t even know how to feel love anymore. I’ve got nobody to love me anymore. And it’s all my fault, I left him...”

The sobbing continued at a louder volume. The beautiful brown eyes filled with such pain, it made Jens sick to his stomach. He couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled the boy out of his arms, his hands firmly gripping Robbe’s upper arms. It’ll bruise, but he didn’t want to let go. Robbe needed to know. 

“Robbe, listen to me! Clinically depressed doesn’t mean your dad doesn’t love you anymore, okay?! Your dad is going through a hard time in his life. He probably struggling with this for a while and it only now faced the world. It’s not your fault! He held on as long as he did, because of you, Robbe. Because you were the light in his life. You still are! You always are, for everyone I know. For your family, for your friends, for me. Especially for me... Gosh, I love you so much, you don’t even know.”

Oh my god.

What did he say?! 

Fock, fock, fock.

Oh no. Robbe suddenly looked at him with a puzzled expression. He saw the mechanics whirring inside his head, linking every accidental touch with his upped heartbeat, every soft sentence with his longing stares. Jens knew he went too far. It’ll only take a couple of seconds to realize how much the raven haired boy had concealed. From the world, from Robbe and from himself. He loved him? Really? Since when?

Robbe had pulled away quickly, like a deer caught in headlights. Making his heart ache for a do-over, another chance to explain everything. To come clean and tell him it was a mistake saying this. But before he could say a word, he felt a slight pressure on his chin. Lifting it up. It was the smaller boy again, sitting up this time. 

Brown eyes stared into his, like he wanted to communicate something without forming a sound. They didn’t need any words. They would never. The sorrow was forgotten, the love was touched. The heart was healed again. Their sweet touches, their soft sighs, their teasing glances. Between them and their feelings.

Everything was said that night.

It was always them.

Against the rest of the world.

Only the two of them.

And the next morning?

Well, the next morning,

they never spoke of it again. 

Everything was forgotten.

Tout oublier.

Pour y croire, il faudrait tout oublier.

[heartlandseli]

Texts ✉ Elijah + Mikey.

[   PMs and Texts with @mikeypark  from 8/30 and 9/1. A partial continuation of this conversation (X ) and then a new bout of texts.   ]

ELIJAH → TEXT: Mikey... TEXT: You know why I'm back in town, right? TEXT: I ... my claim...got dissolved. TEXT: I don't know that I'm ready for a scene. Like a REAL scene. TEXT: With safewords and rules and all that. TEXT: It would be my first since him. TEXT: I'm not sure I'm there yet. TEXT: But seeing you is never a bad thing.

MIKEY → fuck you’re right. I’m sorry that was really messed up of me I’m kinda drunk but we should definitely hang out when I’m not drunk we could even get drunk together and bitch about our exes

ELIJAH → GOD. That I am always ready to do. Besides I'm curious...this ex of yours...and who they are. Do I know them?

MIKEY → Yeah it’s Tom It was... a lot Kinda rushed into it I guess? And then rushed out... ...and then back in... It’s complicated

ELIJAH → I guess complicated is the order of the day. Tom, huh? I never knew. What uhm...attracted you to him? If I can ask?

MIKEY → yeah, complicated was stamped on my ass the day I was born Yeah, it wasn’t a long term thing When I got back in town, I was a fucking wreck Tom helped me get my shit together This wasn’t the kind of bitching about our exes I was imagining btw

ELIJAH → Call this an advance on the bitching. Pre-bitching. I was just ... I was curious is all. Tom. Is he like, your type?

MIKEY → yeah okay haha My type? Sure, I guess Why are you asking? Still just... curious?

[ present day ]

ELIJAH → TEXT: I'm an idiot. TEXT: I can never just ... let things lie. TEXT: Why can't I just say it when I want something?

MIKEY → TEXT That doesn’t sound good TEXT What happened, Eli? TEXT Do I gotta beat up someone?

ELIJAH → TEXT: Me, maybe? I'm the one that deserves it TEXT: I ... There was this guy... and maybe we shouldn't have flirted but I was feeling extra confident. TEXT: And... nothing really happened but I know we both wanted it to. TEXT: Then he acted like I was some stranger. I can't take that. Being treated one way this day, and another the next. TEXT: And I'm making these decisions that are supposed to be for me, about me. I just feel like I'm messing everything up with them.

MIKEY → TEXT Okay first of all, I’m not beating you up TEXT Second of all, you deserve better TEXT Who’s the guy? I just wanna talk

ELIJAH → TEXT: not even a little charlie horse? TEXT: the jury is still out on that one TEXT: I need you to be honest with me... did I ever pull anything with you that you felt was uncalled for? TEXT: cause I liked you, Mikey. There were feelings there. TEXT: and I tend to mess up most with guys I like

MIKEY → TEXT I could give you a spanking TEXT Idk what to tell you TEXT I was a mess and I still kinda am? TEXT So even if you did your best, I’d still probably fuck it up

ELIJAH → TEXT: You wouldn't fuck it up TEXT: You're too kind for that TEXT: You wouldn't....treat me like a stranger. TEXT: I just feel messy, mentally right now. TEXT: How have you been Mikey?

MIKEY → TEXT You’re too kind to me TEXT But seriously if you need anything, let me know TEXT I’m not gonna let anybody fuck with you like that TEXT I’m fine I guess TEXT Are you going to Denver?

ELIJAH → TEXT: Thank you Mikey TEXT: You guess? TEXT: I wasn't going to, but suddenly all I want is to get out of Edgewater

MIKEY → TEXT We should carpool TEXT Do you want to go camping or hiking? TEXT Forget about the bullshit ya know?

ELIJAH → TEXT: I'd like that TEXT: What in Denver? TEXT: I have a need for a good hike. Anytime, any place. TEXT: Just say the word

MIKEY → TEXT Yeah, in Denver TEXT It's a little short notice for an overnight but we can go out to the lake or something TEXT You busy tonight?

ELIJAH → TEXT: I think the lake would do me good. We can talk like we used to TEXT: And you can tell me what "you guess" means :) TEXT: Oh...I um. I am. I'm going to see a friend...Dutch. Dutch Hawkins.

MIKEY → TEXT Oh TEXT You’re friends with Dutch? Since when? TEXT Actually never mind it’s chill TEXT I’ll just hang with Tom or something

ELIJAH → TEXT: Well I mean TEXT: It's recent. TEXT: Tom your ex? TEXT: Are you two ... y'know?

MIKEY → TEXT We’re friends

ELIJAH → TEXT: Oh TEXT: That's gotta be interesting

MIKEY → TEXT It’s fine TEXT Have a nice night TEXT I’ll call you tomorrow about the lake