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marstons-angel · 1 year ago

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i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#zero.writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fluff #red dead redemption x reader #this is so lovesick and silly i feel so miserable #I AM A JOHN GIRL. BUT. well that deadbeat father and bastard isnt gonna write you love letters like arthur im afraid #outlaws love letters

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luvjunie · 2 years ago

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— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)

MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.

MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it’s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”

MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.

MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.

MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.

“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.

“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.

“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.

MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.

When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.

You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.

It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales headcanons #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderman astv #miles morales fluff

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highlandhour · 1 month ago

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Thinking about red dead biker au…

When you buy a new helmet and John immediately has to see “how durable it is”. He puts on his own helmet and headbutts you. You’re fine, the shock absorption is actually really good. John however decides he needs a sit down and to also get himself a new helmet.

Arthur rarely rides anymore after getting in a pretty serious accident where one of his ribs pierced his lungs. Hasn’t been right ever since really. But he does cruse with the gang every now and again, choosing to ride an old Harley or Ducati Diavel cause it “feels safer” he knows it’s not but whatever lets him sleep at night.

Lenny and Sean are young and stupid, racing each other, getting pulled over and then locked up for the night. Hosea has to come bail them out the next morning. They will do it again.

Abigail and the girls usually ride with each other but once Jack is old enough he will sometimes tag along. Abi doesn’t let him ride with John until he’s at least 12 or 13.

Jack gets his own bike at 19 though he had “borrowed” Lennys bike a few times as a teen.

Charles keeps so much stuff in his top-box. Wood carving equipment, snacks, spare sweat shirt; on long rides he’ll insist on pit stops to look at the scenery and to stretch his legs.

I have more ideas but I’ll leave it there

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deepcoraldragon · 4 months ago

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Ccs publicly supporting Tommy & Tubbo and/or against Dream: a condensed list

A few days ago, I started a masterlist compiling every content creator (and other notable figures in the community) that I could find who reacted to the Dream-calls-inniters-the-r-slur-and-subsequent-crashout incident.

But since I updated the list in real time as new people reacted, and since I tried to include at least one (1) screenshot per person, it got messy and very long to scroll through. So here’s the organized, clean, final-ish version

Note 1: Take the categories with a grain of salt because I had to sort A Lot of different reactions from different contexts in like… less than 10 boxes. Which I failed at, by the way, there's 12. The "against Dream" category in particular has a big spectrum from jokey to serious. To know what people specifically said, refer to the other list, it has screenshots for almost everyone, or message me.

Note 2: this is wayyy more ccs than I could reasonably keep tabs on, so keep in mind people might've discussed the situation more than I was aware of, or generally could be in a different category. Also, reminder that this is only about what they said/did publicly from January 10th to 20th. Here goes

Directly and specifically discussed the situation

Tubbo (duh)

Sneegsnag

Ludwig

Robbo

AverageHarry

Purpled

Jack

In support of T&T and against Dream

MaxGGs

Aimsey

Bitzel

Dean Withers

Snifferish

Kara Corvus (I think)

Seapeekay

Jameskii

SophieTexas

ConnorEatsPants

Molly (melinks)

Yammy

Scott Smajor

Mysticat

CoyPiso

Pokimane

Kaceytron

Nan_dre

Pangi

ItsZoil

Raegan Revord, aka SettingSunset

Shayy

Jonnayy

In support of T&T

Philza

Shelby Shubble

RosannaPansino

James Marriott

WadZee

Étoiles

JojoSolos

Izethetic

Billzo

Roscumber (to aimsey)

MythicalSausage (to aimsey)

Daniel Howell

Phil Lester

BBNO$

Spoke against Dream (critics, jokes, etc.)

Ranboo

Kwite

Krinios

Its_blarg

Michael McChill

tapL

a6d

Mithzan

KyleEff

CG5

Martyn Inthelittlewood

Camman18

MunchingBrotato

BoomerNA

Valkyrae

Saltydkdan

Winner of the idgaf war

Quackity

Joked about the situation

Roier

Deadlox

CaptainPuffy

Possibly Crumb

Derivakat promoted her music does that count?

Ba Sing Se update

The rat bot

Santa decides

Reaction videos

Adam McIntyre

Louis McClung

Omni

PyroLIVE

Ludwig’s ex-roommates and co-podcasters

Neutral / unclear / staying out of it

Welsknight

xBCrafted

HannahRose

Vikkstar

Badboyhalo

Soupforeloise

Unfollowed Dream

Joel smallishbeans

Jimmy (solidaritygaming)

CubFan

Lizzie (LDShadowlady)

Editors & co.

Larry (talentlacking)

Yahiamice

Lettucesandwich

ArchieMcW

PepsB

Connor (ne0neclipse)

NoGoodDavis

Connie (luvconnies)

Hunter-hhhh

Alyssa

Animagician

Vinni2003

Lily (spxcelily)

Kit (reinfalllz)

VC-david (VCTF_)

Rudy (Rudylmaolive)

Lurkers

Antfrost

Freddy Badlinu

Guqqie

Aypierre

EvanMcGaming

Kristin

Niki Nihachu (probably)

Jonnay

Fundy

VelvetIsCake

Sapnap

Im a Squid Kid

Captainsparklez

Fitmc

Firebreathman

Lee_500

CaptainPuffy

Bekyamon

Crumb cuptoast

Oli TheOrionSound

Owengejuicetv

Ollie Highkeyhateme

Krowfang

Michela

YoItsGold

Spideyarmy

Apokuna

Prezoh

[and several more people]

Not ccs

Sarah Simons (Tommy’s mom)

Aby Manifold (Jack’s dad)

Andi (andivmg, Punz’s ex)

Hannah (25hamjam, Sneeg’s wife)

I know I made the list but Wow that is a lot of people

Hopefully I didn't misspell anyone's name but at this point... This already took way too long. Thanks again to the people who sent me tips and insider info!

Once again, full post is here, hope you enjoyed, bye!

#discourse #long post #dream situation #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #tubbo #dream smp #mcyt

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theabigailthorn · 1 year ago

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Do you have a PO Box? Like what if a fan was like “Abi deserves to play Baldurs gate, here’s a PS5” (not me I don’t have a Ps5 can’t be just giving one away to every internet hot gal but maybe a nice thanks for being cool card)

I used to have one but a stalker used it to find where I live. That was before I came out. Sometimes I think about starting one up again but I worry what sort of things people might send me now that I'm out. People do occasionally send fan mail to my agent, who forwards it on to me, but they're not a mailing service and it's not really fair to ask the receptionists there to filter hate mail and stalker mail and stuff

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 2 years ago

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A DC X DP IDEA # 20

Star born child.

Imagine dis…

Ever since we were a child, we often would ask our parents where stars came from as we gazed along the night sky. Some parents would reply they were just fireflies that got stuck when they flew over, some say those are little children playing as mother moon guards over them, and some say that they were our ancestors watching over us as we slept.

But you know what I said? I said that stars were made by a little elfish young boy with stark white hair, white pupil-less glowing eyes, freckles that looked like constellations, wearing a black and silver accented princely outfit, puffy white shoes that had little bells on it that seemed to giggle each step and a cape that looked like the galaxy. He loved the space so much that he created stars from the smallest of them to the largest and brightest one up in the night sky.

…

Some JL members were drifting along space inside their space vehicle as they had just finished another mission that required them in space. Despite being mainly Earth’s exclusive protectors they have made alliances and friends were, made along the way with many different species, yet they also made enemies from space from the countless people they have overthrown or defeated in space just by being fleshy humans.

As they were drifting into space Superman couldn’t help but still sense a deep feeling of longingness and awe every time he looked into the deep abys despite looking at the same view since the JL space HQ was made. Longing for what could be his planet’s history and culture that could be in one of the endless planets and stars that were present today and in awe at the vast space that kept expanding for more planets and life that were to be made.

…

Flash was the first to notice something was amiss when it was his turn to watch over the controls to ensure a safe and smooth travel back to Earth.

He was just watching the endless void when he began hearing some sounds resembling a child’s giggle out of utter glee and the ringing of bells. Now remember he is a man of science and will refuse any supernatural action despite working with the greatest magicians Earth has to offer. The giggles seemed to continue as the lights kept flickering out without any interference and both sets of sounds kept echoing and bouncing off the walls, he kept hearing a creak on metal behind him, and he kept “misplacing” some snacks and the mug he just placed next to him, it kept him all night to the point that by the next day, Green Lantern had found him slouched by the controls muttering to him about a devil child haunting the league as he felt being mocked him as he kept looking at his back.

…

Cyborg is the next one to hear the mysterious sounds but instead of the giggles he unfortunately teased the Flash about but a static noise-like sound filtered his ears.

Ever since his accidents he has noticed that his hearing and eyesight have increased exponentially due to the machines that upgraded two of his senses.

At first, he thought he was picking up a foreign radio signal/ message between two planets that have a rather large frequency but when that signal began interfering with his sight and hearing he knew there was something wrong. There are very few frequencies that can really interfere with his sense since his accident and now powers/ abilities originated from an explosion of the mother box. He cannot keep himself awake due to the amount of static that invades his hearing and sight he later lost consciousness and suddenly awoke in one of their med bays.

…

Batman was the first one to see their mysterious haunting of a child. Despite barely believing the Flash due to his history of pranking and history of delirious muttering whenever he watched too many horror films as well had Cyborg being grilled for every detail he can remember before he passed out, he will never admit it to anyone that he had frozen the moment he saw it.

He was just making his rounds around the space shuttle of the JL when he heard a child’s giggles accompanied by the light giggles of bells. He is immediately on guard as they are in the middle of space if anything snuck in it can’t be good news.

As he was surveying the area, he found his gaze towards a small child. A small elfish little child with stark white hair, white pupil-less shining eyes, constellation-like freckles, dressed in a black and silver accentuated royal attire, and puffy white shoes with little bells on them. He seems to have not noticed him Batman keeps quiet and begins observing, the said mystery child is still giggling without a care in the world when he suddenly pauses and takes a look at a seeming space to his right. Frowning as if there was something wrong the child suddenly jerked up as if he had a bright idea, slowly raising his arms and began to move his arms in such fluid motion as if he was creating something but what? Suddenly a large bright invaded in front of him forcing him to close his eyes at the assault of light. When he gains his vision again, he sees the mysterious boy looking all happy and proud with the way he puffed up his chest as well as the bright smile on his face. As he turns to the boy’s direction which was before a space was now replaced by a newly made small dwarf star that he was positive wasn’t there moments ago, brightly twinkling. Batman was so engrossed in what had just transpired that as he focused on the said star he noticed movement, at the corner of his eyes he saw the mysterious boy had spotted him and immediately disappeared into the vast void of space.

…

The next day he held the meeting about the said mysterious boy, you can hear the Flash boasting he was right to the other members about having the space shuttle haunted when Batman noticed both Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern stutter and look of disbelief in their faces and promptly asked what was that. Martian Manhunter went first, when Batman described the said child it reminded him of the Martian’s ancient texts, history, books, and scrolls if you will. That said child was said to be their god as in the past they had been on the brink of extinction due to the barrage of asteroids heading their way, as he had appeared to save them and he also gave them the knowledge to advance by themselves. Martian Manhunter ended his statement that he had heard it when he was just a Martian youngling as it was taught to every young Martian that their great guardian was watching them in space. Green Lantern explained that what Batman had seen was something that the Green Lantern Corps was supposed to be the only people who knew of his existence. He had shown himself a few times when a Lantern was in a precarious situation or on the verge of it some lanterns have witnessed him creating a planet or stars depending on which in his will, and some have seen the said boy expand the universe to his will as if we were taking a stretch. The guardians in the Lantern Corps have tried multiple times to guard the said boy as it was obvious that he some kind of ethereal being creating life and other celestial beings but he always disappeared so it became some sort of an ongoing mission to protect and watch over the boy whenever one of the lanterns spot him.

…

Danny was enjoying his ghostly life, after years he had been neglecting his primary obsession which is his fascination with the celestial bodies in favor of his secondary obsession of protection whenever he had stayed on earth it had felt like it was caging him, suffocating himself and his core, especially when he became the Ghost King. Writing reports all day as well as ensuring the zone was up and running, he had felt himself getting more exhausted by the say. So, when Clockwork had gone to him and told him to practice his primary obsession as a form of taking a vacation Danny was ecstatic.

He created countless stars, from the largest of them all form the smallest of dwarfs. He had created solar systems created a multitude of planets and let life thrive on the barren place. He let the vast space be his canvas for his obsession, he let the stars he formed and created form different constellations.

If only those green guys stopped being so stalkerish every time they encountered him, he thought that he had escaped the whole stalker gig when he became the Ghost King better yet when he escaped the life of being a superhero.

...

Now he can't help but keep looking at the floating space shuttle as if he had just gone to a new space museum, Danny appeared to sense some interesting people in the shuttle. People who had been touched by death, people whom he felt a slight connection with, and other species from different planets.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp #ghost king danny

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ghostradiodylan · 1 month ago

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My friends on TQBrOS see them all the time, but I realize that I haven't held up my TQ Sims on Tumblr with my hand behind them like a beauty and skincare influencer in a hot minute. Rest assured that I still play with them often and make Ryan and Dylan kiss each other in cute sweaters (in front of the skeleton of the cow plant that I made eat Constance Hackett).

Kaitlyn recently beat the absolute fuck out of a burglar who tried to steal the rocket that Dylan built in the backyard.

That's the face of a beautiful woman who will kill you.

Come back any time you get a death wish!

And, listen, we needed that rocket ship because, well, we had achievements to, uh, achieve.

The time before that, he was scared off by Dylan just thoroughly bitching him out.

And then Jacob got abducted by aliens. He'd been having such a nice day, too.

That was the third time he got abducted! The first time, no one was around, but the second time, Dylan was right there and he missed it because he was loving on the cat.

I think Jacob must be providing them with some sort of... samples... that they find valuable... if you get what I'm saying...

Kaitlyn offered Laura some personal training, from one girlboss to another.

And Max apparently really does like ma'ams! (And does not value his life!) Agnes is like 80.

Don't mind Abi's sunburn, for a while after the last update they all autonomously tried to sunbathe and kept getting charred.

Speaking of getting charred, the whole gang went camping and Ryan set himself on fire a few times lighting the campfire.

Several intense rounds of Don't Wake the Llama were played.

Ryan told such a good ghost story that Nick got VERY scared.

And it conjured an actual ghost. But all she did was haunt the litter box and stalk Dylan. She didn't care that he was wearing his Ghostbusters shirt at all.

"She's right behind me, isn't she?"

Yeah he looks terrified...

You'd think there being a ghost around would ruin the mood, but, uh, apparently it didn't.

Beyond that, Ryan's been painting a lot of masterpieces.

Some of them are, uh, better than others.

Dylan's been making great strides in the scientist career, including using his freeze ray on his unsuspecting roommates. (She's fine, we chiseled her right out! Plus the blue skin kind of served?)

And they've been doing a lot of, um, other stuff...

But mostly just being cute and making me feel extremely single. You know. The usual.

#the quarry #TQ Sims #The Sims 4 #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #rylan #radioheads #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #laura kearney #emma mountebank #abigail blyg #nick furcillo #max brinly #video games squared #bunny sims #the other camping couples are Blygbank and Furcustos #I think Kaitlyn had fallen asleep on a bench lmfao

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skwonkk · 2 months ago

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Plants that grow in both Canada and Finland

* = not native to at least one of the two countries

Acer negundo (box elder)*

Achillea millefolium (common yarrow)

Alliaria petiolata (garlic mustard)*

Alopecurus aequalis (shortawn foxtail)

Anemone hepatica (common hepatica)

Arctagrostis latifolia (wideleaf polargrass)

Argentina anserina (common silverweed)

Artemisia vulgaris (common mugwort)*

Bellis perennis (lawn daisy)*

Berteroa incana (hoary alyssum)*

Betula pendula (silver birch)*

Bryum argenteum (silvery bryum)

Calamagrostis lapponica (Lappland reedgrass)

Calla palustris (marsh calla)

Campanula uniflora (arctic bellflower)

Cannabis sativa (cannabis)

Capsella bursa-pastoris (shepherd's-purse)

Carex adelostoma (circumpolar sedge)

Carex tenuiflora (sparse-flowered sedge)

Ceratodon purpureus (redshank)

Chamaenerion angustifolium (fireweed)

Chenopodium album (common lambsquarters)

Cirsium arvense (creeping thistle)*

Convallaria majalis (European lily of the valley)*

Convolvulus arvensis (field bindweed)*

Corallorhiza trifida (early coralroot)

Cornus suecica (dwarf cornel)

Crocus vernus (spring crocus)*

Cystopteris fragilis (fragile fern)

Datura stramonium (jimsonweed)*

Drosera rotundifolia (round-leaved sundew)

Dryopteris filix-mas (male fern)

Echium vulgare (viper's-bugloss)*

Empetrum nigrum (black crowberry)

Equisetum arvense (field horsetail)

Eriophorum scheuchzeri (Scheuchzer's cottongrass)

Festuca vivipara (viviparous sheep's-fescue)

Fragaria vesca (wild strawberry)

Galium trifidum (three-petal bedstraw)

Geranium pratense (meadow crane's-bill)*

Geranium robertianum (Herb Robert)

Geranium sylvaticum (wood cranesbill)*

Glechoma hederacea (ground-ivy)

Gymnocarpium dryopteris (northern oak fern)

Helianthus annuus (common sunflower)

Humulus lupulus (common hops)

Hyoscyamus niger (black henbane)

Impatiens glandulifera (Himalayan balsam)*

Juniperus communis (common juniper)

Lathyrus japonicus (seaside pea)

Leucanthemum vulgare (oxeye daisy)*

Lupinus polyphyllus (large-leaved lupin)*

Malus baccata (Siberian crabapple)*

Malus domestica (apple)*

Melilotus officinalis (yellow sweetclover)*

Monotropa hypopitys (pinesap)

Oxalis corniculata (creeping woodsorrel)*

Papaver somniferum (opium poppy)*

Petasites frigidus (Arctic sweet coltsfoot)

Phragmites australis (common reed)

Picea abies (Norway spruce)*

Pinus sylvestris (Scots pine)*

Poa arctica (Artic bluegrass)

Prunella vulgaris (common selfheal)

Pteridium aquilinum (common bracken)

Ranunculus lapponicus (Lapland buttercup)

Rosa acicularis (prickly wild rose)

Rubus idaeus (red raspberry)*

Salix lanata (woolly willow)

Saxifraga rivularis

Sceptridium multifidum (leathery grapefern)

Silene dioica (red campion)

Sonchus asper (prickly sowthistle)*

Sorbus aucuparia (European mountain ash)

Tanacetum vulgare (tansy)*

Taraxacum officinale (common dandelion)*

Trifolium pratense (red clover)*

Trifolium repens (white clover)*

Ulva intestinalis (gutweed)

Vaccinium myrtillus (European blueberry)

Vaccinium oxycoccos (bog cranberry)

Vaccinium uliginosum (bog bilberry)

Vaccinium vitis-idaea (lingonberry)

Veronica persica (bird's-eye speedwell)*

Veronica verna (spring speedwell)*

Viola palustris (marsh violet)

Viola tricolor (wild pansy)*

* = not native to at least one of the two countries

#Pibc #Plants in both countries #Canada #Finland

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barbariankingdom · 6 months ago

Photo

A Sumerian Dagger and Sheath (2600-2500 BC), from the Royal Cemetery at Ur - Iraq.

Sumerians were among the first who were able to process iron with high quality and efficiency. The works of the Sumerian civilization (5500-1800 BC) craftsmen were so valued that they were presented as a gift to Egyptian Pharaohs. This ceremonial dagger weighs about 950g, while its length is about 25cm. The double-edged blade is made of gold, and the hilt is made from lapis lazuli gemstones decorated with gold. The intricate geometric design of the sheath is remarkable. This exquisite dagger most likely belonged to the Sumerian Queen Pu-Abi (who died around 2500 BC), and she carried it on her eternal journey to the afterlife.

Ur was an ancient city of the Sumerians in southern Mesopotamia, located near the mouth (at the time) of the Euphrates and Tigris rivers on the Persian Gulf and close to Eridu. Because of marine regression, the remains are now well inland in present-day Iraq, south of the Euphrates on its right bank, and named Tell el-Mukayyar, near the city of Nasiriyah south of Baghdad.

The Royal Cemetery of Ur was excavated by Leonard Woolley in the 1920s and 1930s, although there is no direct evidence to indicate that the men and women in tombs were Kings or Queens. The tombs held a mass of finely crafted goods; harps and lyres, drinking cups, gaming boards and jewellery in gold and silver. Also found was the 'Standard of Ur' a two-sided sounding box with scenes of war on one side and peace on the other and decorated with Carnelian, Shell, red limestone, and Lapis Lazuli. The elite bodies were surrounded by other bodies, possible indicating a ceremonial sacrifice of retainers but later burials in close proximity to the elite burials is equally possible.

National Museum of Iraq, Baghdad

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago

Text

It's Who We Have | Part Ten

Summary: the group reconvenes six months later, setting out to remind both of them what family they have in them | Word Count: 3k~ | Warnings: mentions of PTSD, smut

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The crisp morning air of Castleton felt chilly against their cheeks, the lush greenery of the Peak District stretching out before them. Billy adjusted his overcoat, falling into step beside her, their hands brushing as they traversed the rugged terrain. There was a sense of gentle peace in the air, a warmth that radiated despite the weather, a welcome respite from the once chaotic routine of their lives just six months before.

In the time since Cranstead Fields, winter had come and gone in a pleasant haze of dark nights and a Christmas spent at Billy's parents, with a somewhat hungover trip to Abi and Libby's with the friend group on Boxing Day.

Navigating their way through the aftermath of the indescribable trauma was exhausting. Nightmares haunted Billy at night, but not in the sense he was sat bolt upright, sweating and scared, but in the sense that he barely slept in fear of them.

But he was slowly learning to cope, with her unwavering support.

The way she coped with PTSD was a journey of its own, one that unfolded differently from Billy's. While his nights were often plagued by restless sleep and lingering fears, hers were marked by moments of quiet introspection and occasional bouts of anxiety.

It wasn't easy, and there were still moments of struggle and doubt. But met with steadfast determination and a desire to remain committed wholeheartedly to each other.

In the end, it was she who moved in with him. Her flat had always felt empty, with no real desire to return when her Dad stood on her doorstep in that fateful July. And while Billy's flat was in no way perfect, it felt like home in a way that her own place never had. The walls may have been a bit too bare, the furniture a mishmash of hand-me-downs and charity shop finds, but it wasn't just the physical space that they shared, but also their hopes, dreams, and fears. It was theirs.

In any case, it was nice to finally get away from the hustle and bustle of London, even if they were being pelted by rain and chilled to the bone from the cold, their hands were still warm with the pleasant thrum of their hearts.

Harry’s voice broke through it, “Is it actually the Devil's arse? Cos if it's not then what's the fucking point?”, shortly followed by a raucous laughter, an echo of Libby, Ami, Abi and Harry, who followed shortly behind.

Ami in particular struggled with the rough terrain of the Peak District after her Year Abroad in the concrete laden Beijing. Abi didn’t waste a second making fun of her though, claiming ‘it was his job to as both her twin and older brother’.

Paddy laughed and took Harry’s face in his broad, calloused hands, “Harry I fucking love you, but you’re thick as pig shit.” His words displayed both banter and deep affection, punctuated with a big, sloppy kiss that pulled Harry off balance.

Everyone chuckled, watching Harry regain his composure and forcing the rapidly emerging colour to his cheeks, “Jesus Christ, Pad…that was fucking foul.”

“Yeah that one had a bit of flavour to it, didn’t it.”

“Did you lot see that?! Pad may as well have spat in my mouth!”

Ami, as short and harmless as she appeared, managed to once again knock him off balance as she shoved his shoulder walking past him, following behind everyone else as they trudged up the grassy hill, “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Hazza.”

As they continued their trek through the rugged beauty of the Peak District, the air filled with laughter and playful banter. Despite the rain pelting down on them and the chill in the air, their spirits remained high, buoyed by the warmth of their deep friendship. The green stretched far into the distance and despite the women’s hair being held in tact in high ponytails, it still whipped across their bright, flushed faces with the flashes of laughter and the wind cold on the tip of their noses.

She, Libby and Ami led the way, their easy chatter filling the air as they reminisced about past adventures and shared inside jokes, as well as the occasional gasp as Ami relayed her experiences on her Year Abroad, and how she never once bought an alcoholic beverage for herself in all her time there. Occasionally Abi was not far behind her, as if not wanting to admit that he was happy she was back, exchanging playful jabs and teasing insults, their bond as siblings evident in their behaviour.

Meanwhile, Harry, Paddy and Billy brought up the rear, their conversation a mixture of lighthearted jokes and heartfelt confessions of slight vulnerability under their facade of boyish banter. Paddy, always the joker, regaled Billy with tales of their past escapades, while Billy, more reserved but no less engaged, listened intently, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, raising the odd eyebrow at the way the two other men seemed very close, with lingered glances.

Billy and her being official for a good while now strangely affected the friend group very little. Despite the events at Cranstead and the trauma they had endured, their friendship group remained a source of comfort and stability. They didn't cling to each other out of fear, but rather revelled in the freedom and carefree spirit that had always defined their dynamic.

Weirdly, it was like it had always been like this. Maybe it had been.

It didn’t stop Billy from stealing glances at her though. For some reason, seeing her so happy again with everybody made his heart feel so full it almost hurt. For some time after, every time he saw her anxiety-struck face, he was bought back to glancing over at her in the passenger seat that hot July day, with moist eyes and a panicked rhythm of her breathing.

It was slowly getting hazier. Replaced with, more often than not, her expression of softened happiness at her existence in this world beside him.

Interestingly, it was Billy’s parents who were the most taken aback by their relationship turning official. They had always seen her as just another member of Billy's sprawling group of friends, almost like a daughter, someone they cared for deeply and looked after, but never envisioned her actually becoming part of their family. Their surprise, however, soon gave way to a supportive acceptance, touched by the genuine affection they witnessed.

It was Jeff who had been most surprised. And they both guessed it was because of the way he was so blasé about everything else in his life, that he had barely paid much attention in the first place.

Lana had put him in his place though, with a smack to the arm, “Wake up, Sherlock, I called it ages ago!” Her tone was teasing, a spark of banter lighting up her eyes as she chided him for his cluelessness.

During breaks in their hike, the friend group often found themselves in candid conversations, sharing their experiences and struggles in coping with the aftermath of Cranstead Fields. Billy and her were the focal points of their collective support, with their friends offering unwavering encouragement and empathy as they navigated the challenges of therapy and healing.

Even amidst the laughter and banter, there was an unspoken understanding among the friends that Billy and her were still healing, still grappling with the scars left behind by their shared trauma. But in all of it, they were always there.

As they reached a clearing, Harry and Paddy took charge of gathering wood for a makeshift fire pit, while Libby and Ami spread out blankets and cushions for everyone to sit on.

Once everything was set up, Paddy pulled out his flask of whiskey with a mischievous grin. "Anyone fancy a little something to warm the bones?" he asked, holding up the flask for all to see.

Harry eagerly reached for it, taking a swig and passing it on to Billy, who shook his head with a chuckle. "Not for me, mate. I'll stick to tea," he said, pulling out his own flask filled with hot tea, pulling her towards him with the other so the two could share both in the heat of the flames as well as the comfort of each other.

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile, a rush of warmth gathering at her cheeks that made her feel like a teenager again, so she leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, to watch the way it similarly affected him.

Libby, who had been observing the exchange with a knowing smirk, couldn't resist chiming in. "Three guesses to what you two are gonna do when you get back," she teased, nudging her playfully.

She smirked back, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I don't think you need three guesses," she replied, casting a glance at Billy. "Besides, probably holier than whatever you and Abi are gonna do."

"You're not wrong," Libby conceded with a laugh, exchanging a knowing look with her now fiance. "But we'll leave the details to your imagination."

“ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT SEX AGAIN?!”

“Harry, shut the fuck up!”

With the fire crackling merrily and the warmth of friendship enveloping them, they settled in for a cosy evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and the occasional flask of tea or whiskey. Sometimes both. Her ending up perched on Billy's thigh as she nursed the small cuppa in her gloved hands. It ended late into the night, with a slightly wobbled approach back to their bed and breakfast. Billy and her saw off each of them before slipping into their own room with a pleasant rush of the central heating on their faces.

With a soft sigh, she kicked off her boots, the worn leather hitting the floor with a dull thud. Her overcoat followed suit, landing in a heap on the nearby chair as she turned to face the bed, gathering her moistened hair to tie it out of her face.

"Train's at 12 o'clock tomorrow. Shall we get up early-ish for breakfast?" she asked, the excitement evident in her voice.

Billy nodded in agreement though she couldn’t see him, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of anticipation and affection. "Sounds like a plan," he replied, moving closer to her until their bodies were just inches apart.

She sank into his touch when his long arms wrapped around her middle, his heart beating pleasantly against her back, and burying his face in her hair, rocking with her body as if to sleep. As his arms enveloped her, holding her close, she couldn't help but notice the slight stiffness in his embrace, a silent acknowledgment of the shared trauma they both carried. They had grown accustomed to navigating the world together, finding solace in each other's presence, yet the lingering fear of confined spaces, especially cars, remained a constant reminder of the horrors they had faced.

But she didn’t say anything. She simply covered his hands with hers. And often, that’s all she needed to do for his shoulders to loosen.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, smiling against her crown.

She chuckled softly as if not believing him, the sound like music to his ears. How could she believe him when she had been pelted by wind and rain all day. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she teased, turning in his embrace to face him, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Billy grinned, his fingers trailing lightly along her jawline. "Good thing I'm already exactly where I want to be," he quipped.

Her laughter bubbled up again, infectious and pure. "Smooth talker," she teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

He returned the kiss with equal tenderness, savouring the sweet moment between them. "Just stating the truth," he murmured against her lips, his breath mingling with hers.

He smelled of cigarettes, rain and the shampoo he’d used that morning. So normal and mundane, and yet it excited her nonetheless when they lay in bed together, hands clamouring for skin as if they were forbidden lovers, deprived of touch and separated by tragedy. And though there was no negativity of the kind to be found, the necessity behind the pressure of their fingers undoing each other's clothes, popping buttons, tugging at sleeves and kneading flesh, was there all the same.

Billy's touch was subtly rough yet reassuring, his fingertips tracing patterns along her skin as if committing every curve and contour to memory. And she, in turn, responded eagerly to his touch, her body melting into his with a sense of familiarity and belonging that filled her with a profound sense of peace.

In the quiet intimacy of their embrace, they found refuge from the outside world, cocooned in the warmth of their love and the gentle rhythm of their breaths. The gentle tapping of heavier rain cast a mist against the window of the room, a waterfall endlessly making its way down like a slick of oil. It was strangely calming, with only the sound of the oncoming storm, spurred by the arrival of the evening, as the gentle background noise between laboured, passionate breaths.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging onto him tighter with every lazy thrust into her. She looked at him with a sort of reverence, the sheets draped around his middle, and appreciated the way his stomach muscles flexed. In the months they’d been together, he’d lost a little bit of that wiry, lanky look and broadened somewhat. Not that she would dare complain.

Billy let out a stuttered moan, batting against her neck, leaning over her with chests flush and skin tacky to press open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone, his hands clamped tight around her waist.

Since the trial, nearly all of Billy’s sex was like this. Lazy, languid and thoughtful. Sometimes, on odd occasions where he had some beer in him, he was needy and more risky, engaging in quickies stolen in dark corners, spurred on by the real threat of getting caught. Paddy had nearly rumbled them once.

“Never want to let you go -” he breathed, ragged, “-just want you all to myself.”

Her brows drew together, breath hitching as he pressed his forehead to hers, blue eyes unyielding as his usually lingering touch drifted south to her thighs, fingers flexing as he tugged one around his hip with bruising intensity. The angle coupled with the relentless bullying of her sweet spot , had a long moan slipping between her lips.

At first, Billy had been hesitant with their intimacy. After knowing her for so long outside the realms of romance, that was the one part where she felt the need to coax him out of his shell. She was a woman, and he a man. And while they had been friends for so long with something primal and deep simmering beneath, he was allowed to lose control with her. He was allowed to explore what a loving, sexually healthy relationship felt like. Allowed to discover what she liked, what he liked, what they both really liked, and sometimes what they didn’t like.

Once teased from his cage though, there was no way Billy was going back. But still, when his thumb lingered at her lips, blue eyes trained over her face to watch her hedonistic expression, he still blushed and felt a twinge of white hot pleasure jolt up his spine, when she took his thumb between her lips and caressed it with her tongue.

He nearly faltered. And she had to bite back a smile when she felt his hips tremble.

And yet it surprised her every time how he was able to turn the tables. For someone who some would assume was shy and unassuming, his now moist thumb glistened from her lips and dipped between her legs, where he was still pushing into her with heightening intensity, to apply gentle, but calculated pressure to her bud. Her fingernails dug into his back, lips parted with no sound, feeling as if she was being flung from some great height along with him.

“Oh, Billy-”

Billy never lasted long after her. It was as if he was impatient to follow her in the breathless embrace of their highs. Both barely said a word. ‘I love you’s and constant praises were sometimes whispered in embarrassed laughs and tender words, but most of the time, there was little need to say anything at all.

Anything either of them said was communicated long ago. Like a tapestry of feelings and histories of them, woven forever into a story that formed each of them.

In the soft, calm afterglow of sex, Billy pulled her back to his chest, one hand idly brushing the tangles from her hair lovingly. His eyes were too watching the river made by the heavy rain, but felt no weight in his heart at the sight.

Rain always reminded him of her, of the memory of her once upon a time. Of the way she looked on that morning at Primary school. Of her wide, mischievous eyes when they’d rush home on the way from Cranstead Fields, trying to out-run the rain. Of her delicate features, flushed from chill and hair frizzy from humidity when she stood in his kitchen with parted lips. Each moment ignited something different, unique, but something that never left him, and only added to the complex emotions that stirred for her.

A smile crept to his lips at the memory of a few hours before, sitting before the fire pit and sharing a flask of tea, warming their bellies with it and thus their fingers before the flames. He thought of how the fire had burned out in a warm orange glow over their faces. And Billy closed his eyes, and allowed himself to sink into that feeling, into the memory of the love and laughter of the ones he held close to his heart.

And her, well…she saved him more than once in body and soul.

Each rescue, whether from the dark pits of his own doubts or from the brink of physical peril, had woven their lives inseparably together. She was his beacon in the storm, a lighthouse guiding him back to safety with her unwavering strength and tender care. Cradled by love and mutual devotion, Billy truly understood the essence of what they shared.

It was who they had, and in the end, that was everything.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy

@justbelljust @minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3

#billy washington #billy washington x reader #billy washington x y/n #billy washington fic #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington trigger point #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #billy washington smut #billy washington angst #trigger point itv #trigger point fanfic #trigger point fanfiction #billy washington x oc #billy washington x fem!reader

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