#maybe someday i'll use that tag again

[ofpd]

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandoms: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables - All Media Types

Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire, Enjolras/Patria

Characters: Enjolras, Grantaire

Additional Tags: Canon Era, BDSM, Submissive Enjolras, Sexual Fantasy, Praise Kink, Discipline, Restraints, Orgasm Control, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Aftercare

Word Count: 8,543

Summary:

“I belong to my mistress in body and soul,” Enjolras said seriously, “but her nature is such that she is unable to directly communicate her desires to me.” Grantaire’s mind stuck on one baffling word in Enjolras’s sentence. “Your mistress?” “Patria,” Enjolras clarified, waving a dismissive hand, as if Grantaire ought to have understood implicitly. - Enjolras makes an unexpected request of Grantaire.

a gift for the wonderful @koheletgirl <3

[neon-garbage-angel]

DOG SHOW AU where Viktor is a borzoi and has been Best In Show for the last 5 years, and is polite to other dogs but lacks any true friends, while Yuuri is a dark-coated shiba inu who looks up to Viktor (both metaphorically and literally lol) but gets stressed easily and struggles with shows

[ren-lui]

failed ventures into digital painting

[neverendingford]

.

[medicinemane]

To be honest, seeing a post about how since binders are hand wash and that's a pain, old washboards do a good job (did I reblog that?...I forget) really kind of makes me want to get a washboard for my laundry

See... I kind of fucking hate using machines like that for some reason. Like, I don't use the dishwasher, it's so much easier for me to do it by hand (even easier if I get ahold of some good dish rags cause... when I've got a rag I can get things cleaned even quicker and easier)

Just something about the loading and unloading... doesn't work well for me

But using a washboard on the couple things I use (I mean I'm at home a lot, so I don't go through a ton of stuff), and then hanging them on one of those little... like the indoor hanging racks (which I could make if I'd just make it)... that feels easier too me

Hard to get started doing cause... it's... it's a big learning investment, not that it's complex but like... even if you... well even if I know all the steps for something, doing it the first time still is really hard and like learning, I can't say how it is for you

But like, once I started doing it and was used to it I feel like I'd do it a lot more than I'm willing to do laundry in a machine

...I don't know... just thoughts I have. Don't know why I'm like this, but I am

[james-stark-the-writer]

having tags you used to use for specific posts is honestly so weird to experience bc I do not want to see what the fuck teen me had to say about anything. anything I've said before 2022 does not exist, it's not canon, it never happened.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

PINNED POST, FAQ, INFORMATION

Hi, I'm TBSkyen. I make videos on YouTube sometimes. This is my main tumblr blog, the "brand" blog as it were, where I maintain my Social Media Presence™ on this site.

I use the ironic ™ to signal my personal discomfort with the work of being a minor media personality even while I still do that work and make a living off it.

I have a sideblog called @tbposting, mostly for shitposts and reblogs, and in my opinion I have pretty darn good taste in reblogs, so you can follow that if you want. It's also where I'll do random personal posting, microblogging, etc.

This main blog is primarily for 1) answering asks, and 2) posting my Original Content™, usually my main channel videos, as well as the occasional longer essay or critique. Sometimes I'll reblog an interesting or useful thing, or boost a friend's work, but I try to keep the spam to a minimum.

---

About Me

I am a thirtysomething content creator whose primary expertise is character design.

I have a bachelor's degree in English, never finished my master's, did most of a bachelor's degree in history, and that's it. These are my academic qualifications, no more and no less.

My professional experience is primarily being a freelancer and self-employed creator. I spent the better part of a decade working as a commission artist, running webcomics, drawing fanart, and the occasional animation work and not safe for work commissions, and I have at this point a decade of experience and self-study in the subjects I cover. I have also done online community management for, god help me, almost twenty years, so that's a part of my skillset I'll never escape.

I do not have any particular professional creative industry experience, although given what I hear from my professional friends, sometimes that seems like a blessing.

Please maintain a critical distance when engaging with my work. I am a critic. My work is very rarely meant to be taken as authoritative or didactic, and when it is, I will make it clear in my writing. Just because I speak with confidence doesn't mean I am trying to assert objective truth.

---

TAGS (to follow, or filter)

#tbanswers is the tag for every single ask I answer on this blog

#tb reblog is the tag for reblogs

#tb essay is for the occasional longer essay or critical writing

#tbvideos is for my videos and Content™

#tb recommends is for the occasional recommendation of a video essay or other creator

Yes, I know the spaces are inconsistent. It's not on purpose, I just typed them in haphazardly when I started using them and it's stuck.

---

FAQ (before you ask)

Q: Will you ever do a video about ____ ? A: The answer to this question is almost universally "maybe someday, if I have time, and if I feel I have anything worthwhile to say." And the more realistic answer is "no, because I already have far too much on my plate and I have burned myself out too many times." In general, please don't ask me this question, I will most likely not answer it because I have given the same answer a thousand times, but I still feel guilty about not answering them.

Q: Will you continue your series of videos about ____ ? A: Yes! I will continue the let's plays I started, I will finish the Boss Designs series, I will do another What's the Deal With, I will do more shorts about the subjects I've got going on. The main obstacle is, again, my tendency to overload myself.

Q: Do you have a PO box? Can I send you something? A: Not yet, but I'm looking into it. It may be a while before I get it set up.

Q: Do you have merchandise? A: A little bit, yes, at tbskyen.redbubble.com.

Q: What's your opinion on [game/movie/comic/book/etc]? A: I struggle to answer very open, broad questions like this. Most things I have opinions about, I have multiple opinions, and different ones depending on the perspective and specific element in question. I'm much more likely to answer specific, bounded questions.

Q: Can I send you fanart? A: PLEASE. Askbox, tag me on bluesky, send it to my email! I love seeing every piece of it!

Q: Why do you never appear on camera? A: A forest witch cursed me to look not quite but ALMOST like Paul Giamatti in all photos and videos ever taken of me, and his laywers sent me a cease-and-desist.

Q: Are you gay/straight/bi/other? A: The decision I've made for myself, at least for this period of my life, is that privacy is precious, and once given up can never be reclaimed on the internet. I am open about being aromantic (not asexual), because it's a sometimes invisible and underdiscussed identity, and I know it would have helped me a lot to see someone speak about it when I was younger.

The rest of it is for me to know, and for you to speculate about, although preferably somewhere I can't see it. I accept that this is a part of being a Personality, but it still feels weird, y'know?

Q: Is it weird if I find your voice kinda hot? A: I've put a lot of work into developing this voice and making it nice to listen to, so that's not weird at all and I find it quite complimentary, thank you.

I generally don't mind people doing flirty/thirsty posting about or at me, just so long as we all understand that 1) you should never give a stranger like me information which could be used to harm you. Nicer-seeming YouTubers than me have turned out to be monsters.

And 2) it will never go beyond playful online flirtiness. I like to fluster my live chat, I'll flirt back in an ask or a post maybe, but I am not flirting with you, or inviting any kind of closer intimacy with you, the person I responded to.

Think of me like a comedian doing crowd-work at a show - you can chat to me in the bar after the show, but when I asked you what you do for work I wasn't looking for a personal connection, I was doing my work as an entertainer. Please no sending me nudes, or propositions, or confession letters in my email inbox. We are strangers, and I am always performing a persona in public.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Teaching You How to Swim

SUMMARY: You end up revealing that you can't swim/not swim very well, and the OctaTrio offer to teach you how to swim. You choose Azul to teach you. On the day of the lesson he found a secluded small cave to teach you.

CHARACTERS: Azul Ashengrotto x Reader 🐙🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WORD COUNT: 2.910 words

COMMENTS: This is for the @briarvalleyarchives “Summer Shoreline” event.

To be honest, the initial idea was to write about how each of the three (Azul, Jade and Floyd) would teach you to swim. But I ended up being so inspired and carried away just by Azul's part that I ended up deciding to stick just with him.

BTW: I was born and raised on the coast, so the beach, the ocean, and even rivers, are very close to me. I love swimming and especially diving. I'm just saying this to let you know that I wrote most of this from personal experience.

I hope you enjoy 😉

One day, you were in the Mostro Lounge talking to the trio and the Tweels comment that they would love to swim with you one day. And you end up revealing that you can't swim/not swim very well. Of course, they saw a deal opportunity.

They offered to teach you how to swim. After all, who better than a merfolk to teach you such a thing? They let you choose which one you would like to be your teacher and then you'll make a deal with him.

THE DEAL

“You want me to teach you?” Azul says “Of course! It will be a pleasure, an honor even.”

Despite all Azul’s confidence, you already know him, and something in his voice, a quick little tremor, made you realize that there was some kind of insecurity behind that answer.

The deal you two ended up making came as no surprise from Azul. You would work at Mostro Lounge for a month. And why a whole month?

“I pledge to teach you everything a landfolk would ever need to learn. After all, I will teach you things that could save your life. Don't you think a month is reasonable for such a thing?”

He had a point. But you wanted one more little thing from him. And you said you'd have a deal if he taught you to swim in his merman form. The Tweels started laughing derisively.

“Two months.” Azul trades back, slightly embarrassed.

“One month and one week.” you trade back

“A month and a half.”

“Deal.” You extend your hand for him to shake. He had that charismatic smile on his face. But when he's about to shake your hand, you take it away. “And what guarantees do I have that what you are going to teach me is really enough?”

The Tweels laugh derisively again. Azul himself cannot hide a small smile from the corner of his mouth. He puts his elbows on the table and laces his fingers in front of his lips. The way he's looking at you. Damn, he really knows what he's doing.

“Maybe we shouldn't spend so much time together. You are starting to learn too much from us.” Azul has an amused smile on his face. “We'll do it like this: If someday, something happens that proves that what I taught you wasn't enough, I'll provide you with underwater breath potions whenever you need them, for free.”

“With no limite? You really are confident in your teaching skills.” you comment.

“Of course I am. Are you, perhaps, the one not confident in my teaching skills? You hurt me.”

His little theatrics make you giggle, but you end up making the deal.

THE DAY OF THE LESSON

Azul found a perfect spot in the north of Sage's Island. Right underneath and behind Night Raven Collage. That beach to the west of the island was too close to the Royal Sword Academy. And a public place where you would risk being seen. Or rather, where he would risk being seen.

He chose a day when the sea was calm, obviously. And the place he found was a small cave.

You had brought your swimsuit under your uniform. You took off your uniform and when you looked back at Azul, he looked... indifferent. The truth is, he came from a place where everyone is practically naked and mermaids only wear a kind of bra. So, nothing much different from having only seen people in a swimsuit all his life.

“I must say that you choose a swimsuit that flatters you.” Azul comments.

“Thank you. How about you?”

“Me?”

“Our deal. You're going to teach me to swim in your merman form, as I recall.”

You see him getting embarrassed. He sighs. “Fine... Go into the water and turn around while I take off my clothes. If you please.”

You start to enter the water, which, surprisingly, is not very cold. The time it took for you to get into the water and get used to the temperature was enough for Azul to take off his clothes and get in the water. You are in an area where you can walk and you only hear someone entering the water. In a deep part to the point where you can't see him. You can see Azul’s clothes neatly folded on a rock.

You start looking around looking for him. You lean against the edge so he doesn't surprise you. You see a huge, dark spot in the water approaching you. And he slowly lifts his head out of the water to look at you.

“Satisfied?” He looks a little sulky.

“Quite.” You smile at him, which makes his embarrassment increase.

“Good... Now... the first thing to learn to swim is to trust the water.”

“What do you mean?”

“From what I've heard, the problem with most landfolks who can't swim is because they're afraid of drowning. They don't trust the water to make them float for example. You need to know how water works in your body to know how to use it.”

“And how do you train your confidence with water?”

“Floating.” He smiles, that smile to make you comfortable. He rises higher in the water, getting the water up to his stomach. “You will lie on the surface, like when you lie on your bed, and I will put my arms behind your back to support you. Merfolk kids love to do this when they go to play on the water surface. And we usually do it to rest.”

You seem not very trustful about it. “This is like how children on earth learn to ride a bicycle then?”

“Bicycles? That two-wheel vehicle? Really, I've always wondered how a person balances on that thing.”

“It also starts with a trust exercise.” you explain “There are bicycles for children to learn to ride that have two small wheels attached to the back wheel, so that the child can get used to the bicycle itself. When the parents think they are ready to remove these two little wheels, the parents hold the seat so that the child isn't afraid of falling. The trick then is to let go when the child is not looking. So when the child sees that they can ride without the help of their parents, they lose their fear and starts to ride alone.”

Azul laughs in amusement. “Interesting. And besides, I'm glad you have the notion that I'm going to let go of you at any moment.” he laughs “But don’t fret. I will only do it when I see that you already feel comfortable in the water. Shall we start?”

You first dive in to get completely wet and get used to the water temperature better. Then Azul places his hands on your back to support you as you lie down. The scary part is getting your feet off the ground. But you feel Azul's hands holding you. You see him above you, partially illuminated by the light from outside the cave.

After a while, you feel more comfortable with your feet on the surface. But you feel like you're still leaning too much on his hands.

“When you float, your ears always end up under the water.” he explains to you. “You must let your head relax. It may seem worrisome when water runs past your ears, but you need to trust that it won't get to your face. Oh, and another thing, try closing your eyes and relaxing. The more rested you are the more easily you will float.”

“It's a bit like quicksand then.”

“I've heard about those. But here you can always get on your feet. So don't be afraid. Water is not your enemy.” He's speaking so gently. So caring.

It's not that friendly tone he uses when talking to customers. Is different. Like he genuinely wants you to learn to swim. That you liked the water. That you liked his world. As if he wants you to, one day, be a part of his world.

You relax your neck, the water rushes past your ears and you no longer hear the outside, just muffled underwater sounds. It's worrying at first, but he was right, the water doesn't reach your face.

You closed your eyes mainly because, although the water doesn't cover your nose or mouth, it reaches a little bit from the tip of your eyes. So it's more comfortable to have them closed.

The sound of underwater is more calming than anyone could imagine. Which helps you to relax. You feel Azul’s hands stop pressing up your back slowly. But the reflex of you raising your head in fear of sinking in the water is inevitable.

“Trust that the water will not let you sink.” he reassures you “If you don't fight it, it won't fight back.”

Take some time until you feel completely confident in the water. But eventually it happens. And when that happens, you don't realize that Azul has let go of you for some time. You only realize when you feel him floating beside you.

You feel his hand holding yours. “Looks like the ocean is starting to fancy you too much.” You hear his voice underwater. You realize that the sea was pulling you a little bit and he’s just holding you for safety.

Or at least that was the case in the beginning. You begin to feel his hand caress yours with his thumb. And when you caress his back, he intertwines his fingers with yours.

You get tired of floating after a while and get back on your feet. The water only reaches your stomach and the same happens with Azul. But when you look down something is strange. You can't see his tentacles. And then you remember a little fun-fact about octopuses.

“Are you camouflaging yourself?”

He gets embarrassed again. “Uh? What? How do you-?... You haven't been researching octopuses, have you?”

Your face says it all. You may or may not have been looking for trivia and facts about octopuses because of him. And additionally about eels because of the twins.

“Wait a second! Does that mean you CAN do that instant camouflage thing?” Your eyes shine with curiosity and wonder, what makes him blush. “That's so cool!”

Despite the blush, he seems slightly upset about it. “Listen, it's just something we're born with. It's nothing special. You shouldn't praise someone for something like that.”

You apologize to him. Were you rude? Did you say something you shouldn't? And he realizes that you felt bad about it.

“I'm sorry. You didn't say anything offensive. It's understandable for a person who has never coexist with merfolks before. Well, to be honest, when I met Jade and Floyd they were a lot more callous about it. And they had no excuse, they are mermen too. But, I understand it can be something cool for those who have never seen it.” he smiles at you so you don't have to worry about it anymore.

“But... why are you doing it now? Are you uncomfortable?”

“*sighs* You know I don't like to show off my merman form. I'm only doing this because it's part of the deal.”

“Sorry.”

“Hmm? For what?”

“For making you do something you're uncomfortable with. It wasn’t my intention. You don't have to do it if you don't want to.”

“And have you working in Mostro Lounge for only one month?” he smiles amused

“Azul, you-”

“If I really was that uncomfortable, do you think I wouldn't have tried harder to modify the deal?” He speaks calmly and smiling. Then he takes a moment, sigh, close his eyes, relax his shoulders and you see something big and dark slowly appear under the water.

“I'm not uncomfortable around you. Don't think that. I just know that most landfolks don't think this is very...” you see a big black and purple tentacle come out of the water next to you. He looks a little sad at that part of him. “...pretty.” but then he looks at you puzzled. “But you already knew. So why ask me this? Why did you want to see me... like this?”

“This is your true form, isn't it? I love to know you. The real you. And to be honest I think you're quite handsome in any form, especially this one.” You make him blush again.

He looks to the side and seems to have seen something underwater. “Would you like to dive in a bit? Don't worry, I know you can't hold your breath for long. I will bring you to the surface as soon as you need to. I just think you'll enjoy to see something.”

He extends his hand to you, you take it. He pulls you in slightly and places his other arm around your waist. he pulls you into a part so deep you can't touch the ground anymore. But Azul is holding you.

“It's down here. Right below us. Don't worry, it's not too deep.” He speaks to you in a soft, affectionate voice. “Take a deep breath and relax, I got you.”

You take a deep breath and the two of you dive in. He holds your hand tightly and guides you just a little deeper. It's dark. Extremely dark. So much so that you would have started to get scared if he hadn't used his magic pen to completely light up that place. And a bunch of beautiful coloured corals appeared. With the surprise you ended up releasing a little more air and you were starting to need to get back to the surface. So you shake Azul's hand and point up. He immediately but gently pulls you to the surface.

“It's beautiful!” you say after catching your breath, hugged him since you were still in the deep water part of the cave. “I just wish I could hold out longer down there.”

“You wish~?” He grabs you around the waist and leads you back to the shallow end of the water. He is smiling charmingly at you. “Well, you know what the rumors say.” He gestures with the magic pen and a potion floats out of one of his coat pockets onto one of his tentacles. “I can grant any wish.”

You recognize the potion, it's the same vial he gave you to breathe underwater when you went to the Atlantica Memorial Museum. You reach up to take the potion, but he takes it out of your reach.

“Too bad this wasn't part of the deal.” he says with a theatrical sadness in his voice.

“Well, technically it was part of the deal.”

“You would not try to drown yourself on purpose. First because I know you're smarter than that, and second if it's done on purpose it's not valid.”

“I know.” you chuckle “Don't worry, I will never do that on purpose. Thought, you planned this didn't you?”

“You say that as if I were some kind of evil mastermind. *sniff* You hurt me.”

“Hu-hum. And you're going to tell me that you haven't already thought about a deal for that potion there?”

“Oh, don't be so mean. I promise it will be a fair deal.”

“If you want me to work one more week at Mostro Lounge, I'll turn down your offer right away.”

“*chuckle* I must admit that in a way it's more fun when your client sees right through you. Fortunately, I also thought you were going to say something along those lines.” He gets closer you, smiling... kinda... seductively. “You know, it may or may not have reached my ears that you have a crush on someone~ Would that be true?”

You don't even know what to answer. Does he know it's him?

“If it is... It may be mutual, you know...” then he gets slightly more serious “The truth. I think that's a more than a fair price for the potion.”

The truth. In fact, he's quite convincing. So you admit that you have a crush and that that crush is him. He gets closer and puts his arms around your waist, breaking the gap between you two. His nose almost touching yours and his eyes looking passionately into yours.

“So maybe you can fulfill a wish of mine. A wish of ours perhaps?”

He lets you kiss his lips and you feel the hug tightening. You feel his kiss needy, as if he can't get enough of you. But he knows when to part from the kiss.

“Maybe I need to start working on an exclusivity deal after this.” he comments, and brings the tentacle that holds the potion closer to you so you can take it.

He breaks the hug for you to drink the potion. And when you're ready, the two of you go back to diving, hand in hand. Now, you even have time to take a good look at Azul's merman form. You don't want to think he's... big. But compared to the two legs of his human form, those eight tentacles took up a lot of space.

You feel your lower body start to rise, and waving your legs to keep yourself upright is starting to wear you out. Azul is grabbing a rock with his tentacles. You pull yourself close to him and thank him to keep you upright.

Seeing you like this, hugging him, in the midst of those beautiful corals and the calming silence of the water, he can't resist kissing you again.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[knightjpg]

Tending the Garden

Living by yourself on your little homestead gets lonely after your father's passing. And so, when you find a handsome wounded stranger alone and left for dead in the dust, you take pity on him. Oh, he'll leave again someday, you know that. Which would be fine—if only he wasn't so damned sweet.

tags: Javier Escuella/reader, pining, falling in love

part 1 | part 2

Christ, not again. 

“You better not be dead,” you tell the man lying crumpled in the dirt.

He doesn't stir. With a sigh you put your shotgun on your back and crouch down. 

Scrawny, filthy, and bloody. “What a sight you are,” you mumble, checking for a pulse. It's there, however faint. When you turn the man over you see a young, handsome face; black, half-long hair, a nose that's definitely been busted at least once, and a faint scar across his left eyebrow. He's wearing a tattered poncho, its colours old and faded.  

You sling his arm over your shoulder and whistle for Copper, who obediently trots closer. As an afterthought you grab the man's sombrero and push it onto his head more securely. 

“Alright, girl,” you soothe your horse while hoisting the man over her rear. “Let's get home.” 

You were heading that way, anyway, your little hunting trip yielding two fat rabbits in the traps you'd laid out some days ago. You're not used to catching less, not yet; it’s only been a few weeks since your father passed. 

Maybe that's what moves you to take the stranger with you—the strange bouts of loneliness that have plagued you ever since the funeral.  

Fortunately the stranger isn't seriously injured save for the angry, fresh wound around his neck and some cuts and bruises. You wrap him up in poultice and bandages and put him in your father’s bed; the rest is up to him. 

As for yourself, you set to skinning the rabbits and preparing the meat, curing it and hanging it out to dry to add to your stock of provisions in the cellar. Part of it you set aside to prepare for a late dinner, humming as your knife makes quick work of your home-grown vegetables. 

It's a quiet life out here, in the middle of the grassy hills and patches of dense forest. Redwood's less than an hour away by horse, and you go there on occasion to sell your pelts and buy the few supplies you can't fashion yourself at the little homestead you've lived in all your life.

That said... since your old man died you have to admit you're struggling a little managing it all by yourself. 

When you set aside the now finished stew on the old, wooden table you can see the barn from the window across you, and it's not in a good state. You've been meaning to get around to the repairs, just—after the funeral... it's been hard. 

You eat slowly. The crackle of the fireplace, the clink of your spoon against your plate, and the familiar creaks of the house withstanding the blustery winds of spring are your only companions. Your potatoes are doing nicely; so are your carrots and onions. Might be time to get started on those tomatoes soon... Maybe squash this year, too. 

You're pulled out of your musings when the door to your father's bedroom creaks open and two guarded, dark eyes meet yours. 

You reach for the shotgun lying next to your plate. The man's eyes widen and he takes a hesitant step back. “’S alright, stranger,” you say. “Just makin’ sure you don't repay my kindness by tryna slit my throat. How you feelin'?” 

Your tone is gentle, yet the man hovers near the doorframe, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He's undeniably of Mexican heritage; maybe he doesn't speak English too well? You offer a smile, patting the chair next to you. “You hungry? Food?” 

His eyes light up at that and he nods.  

“Alright. Take a seat and I'll get you a plate.” You stand up, strapping your shotgun over your back. Just in case. Don't you trust no one, girl, your father always told you. It's what's kept you alive until now and you're intending to keep it that way. 

The man shuffles forward and slowly takes a seat on the hard wooden chair. As soon as you put a plate down he inhales the food in front of him with such gusto it draws a surprised laugh out of you. “'S that why you were lyin’ in the dirt out cold?” You shake your head. “Poor bastard. Well, eat your fill.” 

You hand him water as well as whiskey, both of which he accepts graciously. Once he's polished his first helping and starts on the second, you ask him his name. He looks up, cheeks near bursting, and your lips quirk up. You gesture to yourself, introduce yourself, and then, with an encouraging raise of your eyebrows, nod to him. 

“My name, Javier,” he says with his mouth full, pointing to his chest.  

“Nice t’meet you, Javier.” You touch your own neck and pat your abdomen in the spot where Javier got an especially nasty cut. “How's that feelin’?” 

He understands, mirroring you by touching his bandaged neck. “Thank you,” he says earnestly, his accent curled thickly around his words. Not exactly what you meant, but you'll take that to mean it's bearable. 

You let him be, then, content to watch him eat until he's satisfied. When he's done your eyes linger on his dirt-stained fingers. Actually, forget his fingers—he's covered in grime from tip to toe.

“You wanna wash up? There's a water pump just outside.” When he looks at you uncomprehending you get up, scraping your chair back over the hard wooden floor, and gesture with your hand. “Come. Outside. What's it called—? Agua.” 

That seems to land. He follows you, and once you work the pump to fill a wooden pail you leave him to it with a nod. After heading back inside you rummage around in your late father's meagre belongings and pull out a shirt and some jeans that will surely be too big on Javier. Well, at least they'll be clean. 

“Javier!” you call out before rounding the back. “You decent? Got you some clothes.” 

His voice carries back to you in some kind of affirmation and you step around the corner of the house. You're not quite prepared to see him shirtless, however, and for a moment your eyes linger on the expanse of his back narrowing into slender hips. You tear your gaze away from him the moment he turns, thrusting the clothes into his waiting still-wet hands. “Here.” 

“Gracias,” he says, his lips curling in an appreciative smile. It strikes you then just how handsome he looks with his hair dripping wet and little rivulets streaming down the hollow of his neck. His dark eyes regard you with a curious intensity in the beat that passes before you excuse yourself and head back inside. 

Javier returns looking much cleaner, sleeves rolled up around his forearms and jeans tucked neatly into his scuffed boots. He allows you to take his dirty clothes from him and you set them aside for tomorrow's washing. Then you gesture him to sit down, checking to make sure his bandages haven't gotten wet or displaced; but it looks like he was careful, and you don't need to redo any of your work. 

“Rest,” you tell him before moving back to the kitchen to clean up the dishes. When he shakes his head and follows you to the sink you raise an eyebrow. 

“Quiero agradecerte por salvarme. I help you,” he says, gesturing. You snort, pushing his hands away. 

“Ain't nothin’ for you to do ‘side from sit pretty ‘nd heal up.” His brow furrows at that, and you smile, nodding to the kitchen table. “Why don't you sit and tell me what happened to you? Y’looked a fright when I found you.” 

When he remains quiet you look back over your shoulder and see a shadow has fallen over his face, his shoulders tense and drawn up. You hum in understanding, drying your hands on a towel before leaning your hips back against the counter. “Where you headed next, then?” you ask gently. “You got someplace to go?” 

He shakes his head, eyes downcast on his hands folded across his lap. 

“Well. I could use a hand with the barn,” you muse. “Reckon I can let you stay a while if you help me out ‘round here.” 

He looks up that, brows upturned in a hesitant, hopeful expression. “Stay?” he repeats. 

“Sure,” you smile. “You help me, and you stay.” 

—

With some rest and care Javier makes a quick recovery, and after a while of having three hot meals a day his strength returns. His scrawny figure fills into lean, wiry muscle, following your every request with an eagerness to please that never fails to makes you smile. 

He helps fix the barn with you, and when that's done he moves onto a leaky part on the roof. He helps plant you tomatoes by day, and during the evenings you help him practice his English. You ask him to teach you Spanish in return. There are several times you both end up laughing by what essentially turns into a strange game of charades. 

“Ah, cómo describirlo... You sit on a horse.” 

“Ridin'?” you offer. 

“No, no... The chair on the horse...” 

You bite your lip to keep yourself from chuckling. “The saddle?” 

“Sí!” a smile breaks through on his face, pleased you've understood. And so on. You talk about anything that comes up; the chores you do, the vegetables you plant, the animals you catch. You lend him the few books you have, once having belonged to your mother, and read to him while explaining the words best you can.  

Javier doesn't talk about his past nor what he's running from, but that's fine. As long as he doesn't lead trouble to your doorstep a man has a right to his secrets. And though he clearly has moments where he struggles with a heavy sadness weighing upon his shoulders, Javier slowly becomes livelier. 

Sweet spring air with its budding green things lifts your own mood, too. Weeks roll into months, and both of you settle into your comfortable new normal; for as long as it'll last. You don't know what Javier has in mind for his future, but you're assuming he'll probably want to move on from here at some point. It's what makes you force yourself to look away from the way he pulls his ever-growing hair back into a ponytail, forearms flexing when he ties it secure. 

It's also to this end that you share your earnings from what you sell in town, insisting he has a right to it; it was a team effort, after all, wasn't it? It's a joy to see him look down at the money he's earned with his own hands, awe and gratitude lining his face. 

Javier's not the best at hunting or tracking, but he takes to fishing, and you're happy your father's fishing kit will get to see some use rather than collect dust in a corner. He's skilled with a knife too, and your usual workload of skinning and cutting is easily halved. 

“You know, I been thinkin',” you tell him one evening, seated across each other like usual on your couch. “’Bout getting some chickens. Lotsa fresh eggs every day. We'd have little chicks runnin’ ‘round, too. What you think?” 

Javier nods. “We have to build a chicken house.” 

“That's right, a chicken coop. You up for it?” 

“Claro. Tell me when we start.” 

It feels natural, to have these kind of idle conversations with him. To plan, to dream a little. With the rising temperatures Javier often works in the garden shirtless, his hat shielding his face from the sun. You're not sure if it's a blessing or a curse. Several times you feel the desire to reach out and smooth your hands over his skin, to taste the sweat a day's work has collected in the nape of his neck. 

One time Javier catches you, and you're not sure he believes the half-coherent excuse you give him. Good Lord, you need to get yourself together. 

There other moments where you swear lightning takes a hold of you. When you climb down the ladder from fixing the roof his hands steady your hips. When you pore over the English books he painstakingly works his way through he's so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. When you harvest the vegetables in your garden his fingers brush against yours.

Has it been that long since you've been touched? 

It gets to the point you saddle up Copper to go into Redwood just to be away from him and the homestead for a day. You go out to town every few months to stock up on a larger amount of goods and supplies; you're on friendly terms with the general store's assistant, Jimmy, and he's always happy to drive you back with a wagon full of things to last you a good while. 

Copper nuzzles your hand affectionately and you stroke her neck, slipping her an apple. Javier spots you and jogs over, smile bright. “Are you leaving?” 

He's wearing a blouse today, the first couple buttons undone. His collarbones dip so beautifully along his shoulders, and when he wipes the sweat off his forehead the fabric stretches around his muscles. You swallow, mouth feeling dry.  

This is the whole reason you have to head out. Clear your head. Talk to some other people that don't have glittering dark eyes and crooked smiles and stupidly attractive laughs. 

You focus on strapping on Copper's saddle while you answer Javier. “Yep. Time to stock up on some things. I'll be gone for the day, so watch the house for me, won't you?”  

“Of course,” Javier nods. “For the chicken house? Ah, coop?” 

“That's right,” you smile. “I'm gettin' us the materials and some chicks to start out with. A rooster, too. So no more sleepin’ in late,” you add with a little grin. 

Javier groans, but it's in good humour. “Monta con seguridad. Ride safe.” 

“Always do.” 

It's wonderful to feel the breeze on your skin as you ride, and once you reach town you find it was the right call. There's plenty to distract you, though Javier never quite leaves the forefront of your mind. When you get to the general store and greet Jimmy, who gets the catalogue ready for you to place your order, you can't help but add a few clothing items you think Javier might be in need of. You've noticed he enjoys taking care he looks nice, fussing with his hair and polishing his boots, and while your late father's clothes are sturdy and durable they don't possess a lick of fashionable flair. 

A bandana, a vest, leather boots with finely stitched patterns, several blouses... You hardly notice how much attention you're pouring into it when Jimmy chuckles and nods to the pages you're so intently poring over. “Never thought that was quite your style, sugar.” 

Your cheeks grow warm. “Oh—No, that ain't it. I've... Well. I got a wanderin’ stranger on my hands, and I feel obliged to him. Helped me out a lot, now that my Pa is gone and all...” 

Jimmy's surprise melts into understanding. “’Course. You look like you're doin’ a lot better though—just be careful of strangers.” 

“Don't worry. Ain't no one gonna get the jump on me.” 

You pick out the rest of your items, and once you're satisfied you have all you'll need Jimmy tells you he'll start loading up the wagon for you. “I'll take a bit, sugar, so feel free to come on back in a while.” 

You take the opportunity to sell your furs and take a stroll around Redwood, noting the subtle changes that present themselves after not having visited for a while. The saloon has a fresh coat of paint; there’s a new butcher in town. Stores have swapped out their previous goods for things more currently in style.

Behind one of the storefronts’ windows a fine, dark bowler hat catches your fancy, and you imagine Javier wearing it along with his crooked little grin. You exit the store only minutes later, feeling foolish and yet helpless when you imagine his delight at your gift. 

After killing some time in the local saloon you find your way back to the general store, pleased to see Jimmy's loading up the last couple items. He helps you onto the front bench of the wagon, and then you're rattling off. Copper obediently follows behind. 

“Saw you got some chicks 'n a rooster, miss. Think they'll do real well for ya...” 

Jimmy's small talk is pleasant, and you're almost surprised at how quickly your little homestead comes into view again. It never fails to make you feel comforted, to see the squat little buildings and the garden nestled among the hills. 

Jimmy insists on helping you off the wagon again; “You're a lady, I gotta treat you well,” and you allow him with a bemused smile. Only when your feet touch the grass again do you spot Javier from the corner of your eye, holding your shotgun and wearing a much darker expression than you're accustomed to seeing on him. 

He slowly steps closer, dark eyes boring into Jimmy's hand still holding onto yours. 

“Javier!” you call out with a smile. “It's alright, put that gun away, now. This is Jimmy; the feller I told you about.” You turn back to Jimmy, thanking him again for taking the trouble with the deliveries. 

Javier's frown doesn't disappear, however, not even when you gently touch his elbow, asking him to take Copper to the barn while you unload. Jimmy hangs back nervously, eyes darting between you and Javier. He helps you unload quickly, and when you ask if he'd like to stay for dinner he shakes his head.  

“I'd best be goin', miss. You take care now,” and with a tip to his hat the wagon rattles off again. You watch him leave, then turn around to raise an eyebrow at Javier. 

“Ain't like you to be so unfriendly.” 

Javier looks away, an unhappy frown tugging at his lips. “This man is touching you too much.” 

You blink. “Jimmy? Oh, he's harmless. Known him for years; he's always been a good kid.” When Javier's frown remains you chuckle, gesturing for him to follow you. “Alright, alright. Come on, let's go inside. I got somethin’ for you.” 

That piques his interest. “What is it?” 

“Un sombrero,” you grin, then think for a second. “...Algo así.” Ain't really a sombrero, exactly... 

“Algo así?” Javier's lips curl upward. “Me estás dando curiosidad.” 

“Just wait till you see it.” The cool interior of the house feels wonderful after riding in the sun and you exhale, removing your hat and running your fingers through your hair in relief. 

Javier obediently lets you direct him to sit on the couch while you sort through the boxes. When he’s presented with the clothes you picked for him you can hardly take your eyes off of him: Javier's whole face is aglow with delight. 

“I might have to make some adjustments to make ‘em fit you well,” you tell him when he holds up his new blouses to his chest. 

“Estos son maravillosos!” Javier beams. He's especially taken with the boots, his fingers tracing the delicate stitching. He looks up at you, eyes softening. His smile is a beautiful thing. “Muchas gracias, señorita.” 

That damn fluttery feeling in your chest... “Now close your eyes, mister. Got one last thing to complete the picture.”  

You're made to eat those words. When Javier obediently closes his eyes it's so tempting to reach out and put a hand to his cheek, to touch a thumb to his lips... It takes real effort to tear yourself away from these thoughts and instead open the hat box, unwrapping the bowler hat from its crinkling, protective paper, and to put it on Javier's head. His hair tickles the back of your hand as you do, and maybe you're imaging it, but you swear there's a little hitch in his breath when your fingertips graze his temple. 

He looks every bit as dashing as you'd pictured. “Well, well,” your smile seeps into your voice. “Ain't you a fine-lookin' gentleman. Here's a mirror—open your eyes, señor Javier.” 

He does, eyes widening in surprise and then crinkling in happy delight as he sees the hat adorning his head. He turns this way and that, admiring the fine make and material in the small mirror you're holding up in front of him. 

“Tell me if it don't please you, and 's no hard feelings,” you reassure him, but that statement is met with such an indignant expression you laugh. Javier gets up from his chair, taking your free hand in his. His mouth curves into a sweet smile, and the fact that it's aimed at you warms your cheeks far too much. 

“Cariño,” Javier murmurs, his tone one so gentle as you've not heard before. “¿Para qué es todo esto? ¿Para consentirme?” 

You scrunch your nose, brows knitting together. “Them's too many words I don't know...” 

To your surprise Javier lifts your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. “You are very good to me.” 

You let out a soft little “oh,” and when Javier's gaze on you lingers you fluster, pulling your hand from him and turning away, pretending to be busy with the few supplies still strewn across the kitchen table. “Well, I—I just couldn't bear seein’ you wear your clothes to rags ‘s all.” 

All you hear in response is a little chuckle, but it makes you feel entirely too pleased. 

—

“Do you go—often? In town?” Javier asks you over dinner. Mashed potatoes, summer salad, smoked rabbit. It's a lovely spread, garnished with the flavours of your little herb garden. 

“Not often, no. Why? You miss Jimmy already?” you tease. 

Javier wrinkles his nose in distaste, and you laugh. “I do not miss Jimmy.” 

“Well, maybe you'll warm up to him. Most folk in town ain't too bad, really.” 

“¿Te gusta él—Jimmy?” Javier's tone is casual, almost disinterested. But when you look at him he's awaiting your answer with the watchful eye of a hawk.

“Él es un amigo,” you reply easily. “A friend. My Pa was fond of ‘im too.” 

Javier does a little “hm”, then goes back to poking at his food. You nudge his foot with your own, forcing him to look back at you. 

“What's the matter? You were so happy earlier.” 

“I am happy,” Javier rushes to reassure you. His hand reaches out to touch yours, and when you turn your palm up instinctively to catch his fingers he finally smiles. “Nothing is wrong.” 

After dinner and cleaning up you sit outside, side by side. The air is finally starting to cool. Cricket song hums in the air, the dying light of the sun smattering its final red hues on the evening sky. You share a bottle of whiskey between the two of you, exchanging small talk about the garden. 

When the conversation trails off you watch Javier, his expression serious and thoughtful, gaze resting on the horizon. Not for the first time it fills you with a strange, sad sort of feeling. He'll leave you here someday, and that day is bound to come sooner rather than later. 

“Say,” you speak up. “We should get you a horse.” 

It's almost like you want him to leave. Might be better if he did, actually. You're not in too deep, not yet—or so you tell yourself. You can still let him go. 

“A horse?” Javier looks at you, smiling with intrigue. 

You shrug, trying to appear casual. “Yeah. We could go out ridin’ together if you like.” 

“I would like that.” 

And so plans are made for a visit to a ranch just outside of Redwood. You weren't expecting to be returning that way so soon, but oh well. Not like it'll kill you. 

...Actually, no, it might kill you. Javier's strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep steady when you mount Copper are going to be the death of you. He's already seated just behind the saddle, and the way he instinctively reaches out to help you up doesn't help the stutter of your heartbeat in the slightest. 

A puff of his breath tickles your neck, and you're suddenly very glad he can't see your face. Lord forgive you, but his hands... 

“Ready?” you ask, your voice coming out slightly higher pitched than usual. And when Javier murmurs “Ready,” close to your ear you have a hard time suppressing a shiver. 

Thank God for Copper's easy and dependable nature, because even when you're more distracted than usual by your very attractive cargo your journey goes smoothly. Javier's dressed himself up in his fine new clothes, including his new bowler hat, and he polished his boots till they were shining. 

When you arrive at the ranch he slips off Copper first so he can take your hand as you dismount. “Gracias, señor,” you smile, and he grins. 

Your playful smiles slip when you see the way the ranch hand that's coming to meet you is eyeing Javier. In response Javier ducks his head, letting his hat cover his face in shadow and keeping his eyes to the ground. His tension is a palpable thing. You give the ranch hand a curt greeting, not missing the way his eyes flick between the two of you with wary apprehension. 

“We'd like to take a look at your horses,” you say. Best to move the conversation along quickly, now. “Nothing fancy, for ridin’ 'nd workin’.” 

The ranch hand eyes Javier. “For this greaser?” 

Javier looks up at him for a second, brief surprise followed by muted anger. Christ. Of course he'd know that word without you having to teach him.  

“For my friend. You mind your mouth, boy,” you tell the ranch hand in a clipped tone. The man gives you an odd look. You don't care. 

“Alright then... Follow me,” he says, and though he makes no additional comments about Javier, the way the ranch hand glances back at him says enough. 

“We'll be fine from here,” you're all too happy to dismiss him when he's led you to the available horses. Then, turning to Javier in a much gentler tone. “Alright, darlin'. You take a look and see if there's any you like.” 

The endearment slips out so naturally you surprise yourself. If Javier notices he doesn't say anything; he just nods, focusing his attention on the horses. Poor man. Running from God knows what and then shunned because of his heritage. 

You join Javier, watching him walk past the horses with a concentrated little frown furrowing his brow. When he stops in front of a grey-and-white American Paint he finally smiles a little, stroking the stallion's neck. He catches your gaze, and you nod encouragingly. 

“Fine breed. Learns quickly. Just like you—but a lot more obedient,” you smile, eyes soft so he knows you're teasing. Javier turns his head to you slightly, the tension momentarily lifting from his shoulders. A little grin curls around his lips, crooking it in that way that lately never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“Then I will take him.” 

He pays for the horse himself, looking proud that he's able to. He shushes and pats the horse gently, telling that its name is Boaz, now, and if he'll be a good horse for Javier he'll get some treats when they get home. 

Javier looks so genuinely happy with himself as he rides Boaz you can't bring yourself to mourn the loss of his arms around your waist. This is good; this is a good thing. He has clothes, money, a horse. Everything he needs to get on with his life and leave you behind as a brief but kind memory. 

The two of you ride slowly, letting Boaz adjust to his new owner and to you and Copper. You don't talk much on the way home, letting Javier fill the silence with excited chatter about Boaz. The barn will just be perfect for him, plenty of space, and Javier is sure Copper will be happy to have a friend, too, and maybe once Boaz gets used to Javier he can race you, you know, friendly competition, but if he wins then maybe you could make that apple pie again? 

“Claro,” you smile, feeling both wistful and endeared with Javier's boyish grin. The way his eyes light up at the promise of your cooking. “...I'm sorry ‘bout what happened earlier,” you add in a much more serious tone. “And I'm sorry if I should've left it to you. Ain't like I think you can't stand up for yourself.” 

Javier shakes his head. “It is not a new thing,” he tells you. “Thank you.” 

You wave your hand. “My pa always used to say people's people. Don’t matter what they look like—we all get hungry 'n thirsty 'n tired.” 

Javier hums, seemingly pulled into deeper thought by your words, and the rest of the way home you ride in silence. You're not sure what's on his mind save for that he seems vaguely troubled, his mind miles away. Must be about his past. 

You let him be when you get back, wanting him to have the space without someone prodding at him. He spends a lot of time with Boaz the rest of the day and you busy yourself with your own chores. But you eat together outside in the warm summer evening, as always, even if Javier's still caught in his pensive mood. You don't mind the silence anyhow. You look over the grass waving in the wind, the soft sounds of chickens drifting from their coop. Your eye rests on your garden with a mix of contentment and pride, and absentmindedly you let yourself be pulled into musings of what to plant next and where. Peas do well this time of year. 

You startle when Javier starts to speak. “I came to America because I killed a man in Mexico.” You turn to him as he talks. His eyes are set on the horizon, softening orange and reds announcing the end of another day. “Powerful man. If I stayed everyone I loved would die. I was afraid when I got here—I had nothing except fear. I was starving. Weak. ...Alone.” 

Javier looks at you, finally. His dark eyes are pained, grave. So that's what happened to him before you found him. You'd wondered, of course. The scar around his neck that he hides with his bandana. His wariness, his guarded gaze when he meets someone new.  

So he killed a man. You wonder if you should be frightened of him—beautiful Javier with his sometimes sad eyes, who calls your chickens ‘ladies’ and who hums while he brushes Copper for you; who burns his fingers and his tongue because he's too impatient to wait for your pies to cool, and who fusses over the wrinkles in his blouses. 

You can't bring yourself to be. 

“I thought I'd die crossing the desert. I thought I'd be killed here—instead I was simply starving because nobody cared.” He puts his plate beside him, the spoon clattering against the ceramic with a soft clink. Reaches for your hand, hesitant, slow. “You cared.” 

Without thinking about it you turn your palm upwards to take his hand, and his fingers hold onto you tighter when you do. Compassion and sympathy pinch your brow. “Then I'm glad I found you when I did.” 

“You saved my life,” Javier replies. His tone is so soft, and it squeezes your heart. Oh, the soft feelings pooling in your chest—you can't, you shouldn't. You attempt a smile, trying to force levity into your voice. 

“And you paid me back ten times over with all the work you done ‘round here.” You hesitate. Try to burn the feeling of the weight of his hand in yours into your memory. “...You're free to go where you like now.” 

The way he smiles at you then makes you wonder if he understood what you meant, but somehow you just can't bring yourself to ask. 

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you!! :DD🦎

@driftwoodmfb

Its simple, Arceus made them! :0 He made Litwicks, Lampents and Chandelures at the same time. The Litwicks ate the Lampent plorts, the Lampents ate the Chandelure plorts, and the Chandelures made more Litwicks! :00 Same goes for every other slime species on the planet.

I actually love your cat so much

I am not familiar with "Six the Musical".. <:0 Sorry!

@quietmakesglark

WAHAHAHGGGG THANKYOU SO MUCH!!!!!😭😭💞💞💞THUIS WAS ALL SOSWEEETT THANTKOYIYUUU!!!💞💞💞🥺🥺💞💞

@glitchhayden (Last ask was in this post)

OHH I see XDDD I kind'a want one-

@abaroo

<XD Yeah, poor Sally.. I was thinking that she doesn't really need to sleep or rest and is always on the go! So early birds like Frank and Howdy are her go to friends. And Julie usually has a fair amount of time and energy to spare for her sister! :))

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY EDDIE AND WALLY!!!! :}}}}}

🥺💞💞💞 AAAAAAA I'm so glad you like him!!! :}}}}}}

(Referencing this post)

There was a time where Wally had a particularly big meltdown/panic attack over Home watching him. In response Barnaby invited Wally to stay at his house for a few days to see if the different environment helped at all.. which it did.

So nowadays whenever Wally gets really stressed, he crashes at Barnaby's house.. Home doesn't like Barnaby because he keeps taking Wally away from it.. 👁️👁️

But thankfully I don't think Home could really hurt Barnaby.. other than maybe opening a door causing him to stub his toe- <XD

@littlelightfish

👀👀

(Referencing this post)

Man, I always miss one spelling error. 😔

Also thank you! I'm glad you like them! :)))

I put "#do not tag as ship" on all my Welcome Home posts. If people start coming at me for it I'll deal with them.. <XD thank you for the concern though! <:)

@milk-powrit (Referencing this post)

:DD Thank you! And hey- its not necessarily to be mean! Home is not not particularly interested in them because they're just normal neighbors <XD Plus they don't come around often sooo...

@tallchest13-blog

That is the most creature I have ever seen!! :000

@burnt-pie-eater

This Christmas comic and this dream comic are good examples! :0 Seeing himself as his human body with puppet colors. Seeing things or people from his human life..

I'm thinking of making it so any bugs Eddie sees look like real bugs. Weird dark roaches and spiders. Which is why he's scared of them.. 👀👀

@caprico54

Yes yes! :DD When Eddie was human, he was a mailman! So his job as a mailman now is the only thing that feels natural and familiar to him... Which is why he's so unnaturally good at it! :00

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Hmm.. I imagine that the pipes and plumbing are apart of Home. But only in the walls. The pipes the come up from the ground and attach to Home are not apart if it.

I'm thinking if you completely tore Home down and rebuilt it somewhere else, it would flicker to life again. If you split the materials of home between 2 houses, I think only one would actually be alive and "home". It would make sense if one part of Home was where its life came from. But I'm not sure what that would be.. Maybe the fireplace is the heart? Monster house style? <XD

I imagine whatever is apart/meant to be apart of Home is its body. A meteor crashing through wouldn't be part of it <XD And any hanging pictures or furniture is not apart if it. The walls are its bones and the paint becomes its skin. If you tore down a wall that wood stops being apart of Homes body the moment it is detached. If you build a new wall, it might take a moment.. but it will eventually become apart of Homes body.

As for the old rotted wood, I imagine that Wally chopped it up and used it for fire wood :0 The new wood that Wally installed in the walls became Homes new body.

<:( You will find someone new someday friend! There's a lot of bees in the hive!

(Referencing this post)

XDD Naahhh its ok, Grim's just nomin. He wont hurt Sylvester! :)

@taco-hyeh (Sent after this post)

Man, if only my mega Grimace comic didn't turn out to be so giant <XD I would have PLENTY of angst for you!

@kitschie

Home right now can be best described as.. curious.. but also somewhat malicious. It watches Wally and Eddie because its curious about them. But it can clearly tell that watching them causes panic attacks and makes them very upset. Yet it doesn't stop. If anything it watches them more intensely when they cry..

When it comes to if they could figure out what it wants.. its hard to say if Home even really wants anything. It just likes to watch and see the Wally react to its stares... that, an the fact that Home probably cant communicate outside of slamming windows and doors-

@calsoutghosthunting

Oh? I've only seen it from 1 artist, is it becoming a trend? :00

I don't know how I feel about it.. I mean its cool! But I might not draw it with my Sona personally <XD Reminds me of this old Journal drawing trend that I did a long while back.. 🤔

@spirited-splashes

AAAA THANK YOU!!! :DDDD I wish you luck in your journey! :)) AND REMEMBER!! The comfort has to be just as healing as the angst is hurting!! :}}}

(Referencing this post)

If you look closely, the hat is actually just Sylvester's ribbons! XDDD

[steddieas-shegoes]

maybe forever

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'on the road again'

rated t | 689 words | no cw | tags: bisexual gareth, good friend eddie munson, future fic, super famous corroded coffin

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Gareth stared out the window of the bus, watching as trees passed in a blur as the sun sunk low in the sky. They'd been on the road for four hours and had roughly 81 days to go.

They'd all agreed no girlfriends or boyfriends on the first leg of the tour. This was just for them, for their hard work, for their passion.

Gareth had agreed. He hadn't really thought much about it. He figured they'd be so busy writing music, playing shows, and sleeping it all off, they wouldn't even have time to miss them. But after the initial celebration with drinks on the bus, they all went to their bunks, or in Gareth's case, the table by the long window.

He was lonely.

He was surrounded by his closest friends, and doing his favorite thing in the world, and got to live a life he only dreamed of.

But he was lonely.

"Gare? Probably should get some rest. We've gotta do souncheck as soon as we get there in a few hours," Eddie said to him from next to the bunk beds.

"Yeah. In a minute," he sighed.

But Eddie wasn't the type to leave him alone if he sensed something was wrong. Gareth wasn't the type to be able to hide when something was wrong.

"What's goin' on?" Eddie asked as he sat down next to him, looking out the window too.

"Just miss him," Gareth admitted.

Eddie was the only one who really knew what was going on with him and Sam. Everyone had their suspicions and Frankie even made a joke about him being sad without his boyfriend, but he hadn't officially told any of them except Eddie that that's what he was.

It was still pretty new, but they'd gone head first into something more serious than Gareth had ever expected of what was supposed to be a hookup at a bar.

"Yeah. I miss Steve," Eddie agreed. He put his arm around Gareth and tugged him into his side. "We didn't have to worry about boyfriends on the last tour. Kinda think we made a mistake not having them here."

"Maybe. Might just be something we have to get used to," Gareth leaned his head against Eddie's shoulder. "Do you think i'll have time to call Sam when we get there?"

"I could distract the guys for a few minutes. As long as you promise to let me have the phone after the show to call Steve."

"Deal."

"You really like him, huh?" Eddie nudged Gareth's cheek with his thumb.

"Yeah, he's pretty great."

"Think you might love him?"

Gareth paused. He'd never had a serious relationship. A couple short-term girlfriends in high school, one guy who he thought was cool because he was five years older, but was actually just an asshole who liked fucking younger guys. One guy who was never an official boyfriend, but they met up any time he was in New York and always had fun.

Sam was different.

Sam was maybe forever for him.

It wasn't as scary a thought as it may have been back before Corroded Coffin got famous enough to headline their own world tour.

"Yeah, I think so."

Eddie squeezed him in his arms before letting go. "Then you should tell the guys. Might make it easier if they know. I know it did when I first realized how I felt about Steve."

"They know I'm into both, though."

"But they don't know that you've found someone who means a lot to you, not really. That's the part they need. It's easier when you can talk about him. I promise," Eddie stood up. "I'm taking a nap. You should too."

"In a minute."

Gareth watched as they passed a sign for some small town that they'd probably never see again.

He thought about being on the road, how much fun he always had with the guys, how having Sam here later on would feel.

He smiled to himself as he stood up.

He was ready for this tour, but he was even more ready to show Sam what tour was like someday.

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part two

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee

the song in this chapter is "Nothing You Can Take From Me" by The Covey Band !!

a/n: sorry 'bout this :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

"You can kiss my ass, then keep on walkin'!"

Josie's singing from up by the horses makes you giggle as you're helping Max load up the back of the wagon with your instruments.

"Jay, you know you ain't supposed to say that word!" You call out, a fond smile on your face as you glance over the front bench of the wagon and down at her as she feeds one of our horses an apple.

"You get to say it!" She rebuffs stubbornly, and you turn back as Max nudges you with his sister's fiddle case for you to pack it.

"That's 'cause she's full grown, little miss." He laughs, his brown eyes sparkling even in the dimness of the night. "You can say it too, but not just yet."

"Soon?" The little girl asks hopefully, her mousy brown hair bobbing around her chin as she climbs up onto the wagon with you as you tuck the fiddle away next to the small drums belonging to the kids.

"Maybe one day, as a treat, I'll let ya do that line for me. Maybe." You offer in exchange. "But until you're eighteen, you gotta watch your mouth."

Max hands you your guitar case last, and you tuck it behind the rest of the instruments and toss a blanket over the top of it to keep it covered in the night.

Josie claps happily as Sarah lifts Harvey onto the wagon, and you're all ready to go. Onto another town, more shows, and more nighttime rides through the country's beautiful trails under the night sky.

You climb over onto the drivers bench while Max hops up the other side and settles in next to you. "We got everyone?" He asks, taking the reins and glancing back over his shoulder at the three kids getting comfortable in the back.

"All accounted for!" Sarah calls back, making sure the kids are sitting down as Max flicks the reins and the wagon starts to move slowly in the direction out of town.

"On with the show, then!" Max calls cheerily over the kids singing in the back.

You look back over your shoulder as you hear some very normal shouts coming from the saloon, smiling a bit to yourself as you turn back to face the trail.

"No Billy tonight either, hey?" Max asks quietly after a solid half hour of comfortable silence between the two of you up front, the kids yapping in the back having slowed to a steady stop as they fell asleep by the relaxing and steady rock of the wagon.

You look over at him, a slightly sad smile on your face as you shake your head. "Nope."

"He'll find you." He says, gently bumping your shoulder with his and glancing over at you, a small smile on his face. "And if he can't, someday soon there will be posters from Silver City to Detroit with your face plastered all over 'em. "Come see the world's best singer live in show!" They'll say. Trust me, he won't be able to miss you then."

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head and leaning it against his shoulder. "He may have to squint at it, it'll have all of us squeezed on. "The best band America has ever seen"." You correct him.

"No." He shakes his head, scrunching up his nose a bit. "You're tyin' us all together. On and off the stage. Without you singing, we're mediocre at best."

"Hey!" You chuckle, sitting up and smacking his arm playfully. "That ain't true and you know it."

The old wagon creaks underneath you with every divet in the dark path, and it's a comforting background noise to your hushed conversation.

Max has been your best friend your whole life. A little boy a year or so older than you and his baby sister dropped off the same way you were, with a funny accent you one day learned was Parisian. You picked fun at him, sure, but he was a good sport. Neither of you would have had it any other way.

Though, you had tried, once. The two of you at fourteen years old telling other kids at the home that you were getting married, a childish and adorable dream in hindsight, but at the time made all the sense in the world. Then you had kissed him, just to try it, and both of you laughed so hard you woke one of the nuns. She dragged you back to your room, and after that, you never spoke of it again.

You were best friends, yes, but neither of you were quite right for one another. And he told you that one day you would just know.

Max had never seen you look at someone the way you looked at Billy that night a few weeks ago. What really drove it home was how you didn't immediately have to leave and then begin spewing distasteful words about the man who had just bought your water and honey shot for you. You just had this sweet, almost bashful smile on your face and you kept humming to yourself as you helped him pack up the wagon just like you did tonight. You said nothing, and to Max, that said just enough.

He had seen plenty of men and boys look at you the way Billy had that night, but you were sharp as a tack in mind and wit- and if you weren't put off by him? Hell, Max saw no harm in you chasing some kind of happiness outside of the music you make.

"It's... kinda true." He chuckles, looking back at the sleeping kids. "You could easily go big on your own."

"I don't want to." You shrug, looking down at your hands in your lap. "What's wrong with what we've got goin' on here? I'm happy as a clam the way we are."

"Sure, nothin's wrong with this life, but..." Max lets out a quiet sigh, looking over at you again with the reins still clasped loosely in his palms. "I don't know... I want more for you. And for them. Wouldn't it be great for them to have a home? For the kids to go to a real schoolhouse, meet other friends, have their own beds to sleep at night?"

You nod quietly in agreement. You were happy, the kids were happy for now too, but what you had wasn't normal and you knew that. What all of you had always wanted was a home, and now that you were on your own, you still didn't have it.

Max gives you a small smile, not wanting to get you down on it. "Shoot for your dreams, little girl." He says teasingly after a moment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you gently. "For the stars."

"Oh, please, I-" Your small laugh is interrupted when he quickly retreats his arm from your shoulder.

"Shh..." Max hushes you quickly, looking at the path up ahead, squinting at the dim lantern light flickering in the back of a wagon up ahead that seems to be stopped across the path.

"What? Wha-"

He hushes you again more urgently this time, head turning when he hears hoofbeats not belonging to your horses coming from up ahead as well.

"Get in the back with the kids." He whispers, pushing on your arm to get you to go.

"Max, it's fine, I'll just stay here."

"Go lay down, pretend to be asleep. I'm sure they just need help with a broken wheel or something, but I don't want you talking to strangers out here." He whispers. "I'll handle it."

You sigh, knowing how stubborn he is about this kind of thing, and climb over the bench and into the back of the wagon with the others. You curl up next to Harvey and drape an arm over him, holding him close for a bit more warmth and gently stroking his hair as you ride closer to the stopped wagon.

Eyes closed, you listen intently as you feel the wagon come to a stop and hear Max climb down, his boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud against the grass.

"Hey, you alright here?" Max asks, and then the subtle but chilling click of a gun being loaded.

Your blood runs cold, but you don't move.

"What have you got in the back?" And then another click, and footsteps getting closer.

"Nothing." Max says, and you can only hear the tremble in his voice because you know him. "Just my family. Just the kids. I promise, we haven't got anything you'd want."

"You've got kids with you and not a dime to your name? I don't believe that for a minute. You gotta feed 'em somehow." A man's voice says, deep and gruff without giving you any sense they'll be sympathetic to the cause. "You won't mind if we just take a look, right?"

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold Harvey a little tighter, grateful that he's still snoring quietly in your arms.

"I do mind." Max insists, sounding more angry than you're sure you'd ever heard him. "We're unarmed, all there is back there is children sleeping and some old instruments. So no, you can't look."

Kids and instruments, yes, but there are kids and instruments and you. A pretty girl with her show dress still on, hair done up just the way you like it, and the old necklace you believe might have one day way back when had belonged to your mother. Maximilien wasn't about to let them get to any of you if he could help it.

The hair standing up on the back of your neck and the goosebumps on your arms send a shiver down your spine when you hear footsteps approaching the back of the wagon and see the flickered light of a lantern getting closer.

"No! Hey!" Max calls out, and there's a shuffle that makes you jolt a bit, a crack that tells you someone's thrown a punch, and right as Harvey tries to quickly sit up while you hold him down, a gunshot pierces your ears followed by the sound of someone's body slumping to the ground.

You know whose body it was. After all, Max wasn't lying about you being unarmed.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[tellmegoodbye]

Welcome to week 2 of the Countdown to Season Five Music Mondays! This week's themes are Redemption and Owen & Tommy. If you don't have anything for these themes you can still participate in the tag as normal.

Once again, thank you to @lonestar-s5countdown for setting up this event and these themes.

Today I am sharing a few of my favorite songs from the playlist for my upcoming fic!

For these songs I'm thinking about 4x18 (and s5 👀) Carlos, how he stepped away from his obsession and chose love instead. We know this story isn't over for him, but overall it is a redemption story. It's about him and TK fighting through all of this and coming out of it stronger than ever as husbands.

Overcome - Nothing But Thieves

Bringer of the calm, your arms wrapped around when the fever took Thought I was gone for good, you brought me back

I've been thinkin', babe, maybe you're right When you said the pain weathers in time We're just waitin' for a change to follow We don't always get all that we want Redefine the pain to somethin' more And we shall overcome, as we've done before

Sleep Deprivation - Chance Peña

I've been on a mission I won't stop till I'm done I toss and turn almost every night I pray to God I'm doing right By all my family's wishes Lord knows I miss them Their love outshines the sun

So when I break down I list off the reasons I'm here and I'm still breathing I'm hanging on Try to break ground, make way for tomorrow I'll find a way through the sorrow One day at a time

Promises I Can't Keep - Mike Shinoda

What's the difference between a loss and a forfeit I tried to make it better, but I made it more sick I tried to make it right, now awake at night I know reality was getting in the way

I used to think that I knew who I was Never saw it coming unglued I used to think that I knew who I was Now it's time to see if it's true

I had so much certainty Til that moment I lost control And I've tried but it never was up to me I've got no worse enemy Than the fear of what's still unknown And the time's come to realize there will be Promises I can't keep

I Am Not Who I Was - Chance Peña

You keep me steady on the ground When my head's lost in the clouds That spotlight, though it shines bright Could never drown you out I know it's hard when I'm away I'll just hope you don't lose faith 'Cause I told the truth when I said to you That I'll be back someday

So if I fly too far Will I still have a place inside your heart? And when you've seen what I've become Will you love me for who I am, not who I was?

Back To One - O.A.R

I see you there, but you don't look right You got a ten-mile stare in your eyes tonight Time ain't fair, like it used to be

Don't look back, you'll never find your way There's a million different people Who break the same way When everything has come undone We got to bring it back to one

I know forever always asks so much Don't you let it scare you, don't you lose your touch When your still waters start to run, bring it back to one

Tags!

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos

@carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @literateowl @paperstorm @guardian-angle22

@whatsintheboxmh @fitzherbertssmolder @mrs-corrections-78 @murdersansy @firstprince-history-huh

@honeybee-taskforce @reyesstrand @butchreyes @freneticfloetry @fangirl-paba

@theghostofashton @alrightbuckaroo @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @tailoredshirt

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @reeeallygood @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@goldenskykaysani @toomanycupsoftea @messymindofmine @fandomswonderland @reasonandfaithinharmony

@goodways @thisbuildinghasfeelings @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @decafdino @lightningboltreader

+ open tag

[sweatandwoe]

Scrooge eating pussy you say 👀

yes I do say

Tags: MDNI, Scrooge x Fem!Reader, Scrooge eating pussy, face-sitting, boss/employee relationship, implied other stuff, implied feelings, that's it, that's the fic

clarification: I haven't watched this movie, he's just hot

-

"You're making quite the mess you know."

You're not doing this correctly if he can talk like that, with you hovering over his mouth. Glancing down, you can see those blue eyes staring up at you. And it's true, there is quite a mess running over the bottom half of his face.

"I can't help it."

Hands rise to curl around your thighs, tugging you down closer. Scrooge's voice is tart but there's warmth in it too."I can't have a maid that makes messes. That wouldn't be proper."

Fingers move into his hair. You sometimes forget you were still supposed to come in and clean. Supposed to.

Lately, it has always divulged into something like this instead of proper work though.

Your knees settle on either side of his head, lowering yourself fully before he can speak again. Something he approves of from the groan he gives, and only further confirmed from the half-lidded gaze he fixes you now. Hands dig into the meat of your thighs, while his tongue drags along your cunt.

A gasp rises out of your throat. Your free hand digs into the headboard, and you give a slow roll of your hips down against his face. From the way his fingers dig harder into your thighs, attempting to pull you even closer, you'd say he approves of it.

It's that small encouragement that is all it takes for you to start grinding against his face. Using his nose as leverage against your clit, while he groans up into you. Your forehead rests on the cool headboard after a few more moments, and both hands move down to grip his head while you rub yourself over him, chasing after your pleasure.

When you cum, you can feel him licking at your slit. Lapping you up like a fine meal while you ground yourself against him, gasping and moaning out his name.

You roll off, panting and gasping, your face flushed, and sweat beading on your forehead. A quick glance at him shows he is in a similar state. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are red, but he's grinning. You hadn't seen him this happy in ages, and yet a quick roll with you, he'd be far more relaxed and even smiling at people.

It was a little unnerving still sometimes.

The realization and the implication that your boss just really that intimacy wasn't lost on you, so maybe that's why you had continued to let him do it. Or maybe it was because he simply made you feel good.

There's a horrible amount of mess along his face still too, that even his nose is shining in the evening light. His gaze flicks to you before he's rolling to crawl over. Hiking up your skirts again, he tuts. "Such a mess. I'll have to show you how to properly clean up." His tone is full of mirth, while he lowers his head between your legs once more. His eyes gleam with greed when he eyes your slit once more. "And I will show you, my dear, even if it takes all night."

You have an odd feeling you'll both be messy by the end of the night. And that like the night before, you won't be returning to your shabby apartment. His arms will envelop you, holding you tight once you're both spent.

In his arms, with him snoring behind you, you know the truth of it. Something he won't say, out of his own fears, so you simply rest your hands on his own.

It's a truth you're starting to share too. And someday, you might be even able to tell him.

Because you know he won't ever say those three words first.

[dark-type-appreciator]

Intro post! :3

Hello! Like my description says, I'm Liam! I'm 16 and I found this website a while back and decided to finally make an account!!! I really like dark type pokemon (bet you could guess that XD), and I'm always open to talk about them! I also really like other catmons ^w^ curse of being a warrior skitties fan I guess...

I also like drawing, warrior skitties, and roleplaying! I have other interests but those are my main ones! I play games sometimes, but I'm not very good at them x_x

I'm not really a pokemon trainer… I only have one pokemon haha! His name is Goldie, and he's a purrloin! He's kind of a cranky old man but he loves me!

umm, what else? I get confused sometimes, please be patient, I'm autistic (and other things). Same goes the other way around!! If u need me to rephrase something, please tell me! Also i misspell things a lot, auto correct is my best friend. Hopefully its not too bad!

Oh! Also I am a furry! :3 I almost forgot to mention that asjhdjahs

Here's my pokesona!

not the best reference, it's kinda old... Maybe I'll redo it someday!

Also- if we're friends, pls tag any bug types!… I have a really bad phobia of them, and I don't wanna see them at all. Thank you!!!

also- look look look!!

They're friends.. :3

[OOC under the cut]

Hello! Actias/moth (@act11as) here with a new blog! On a different account! Wowie! Follows will come from here, of course! Once again, general unreality warning! Out of character posts will be green, and tagged as #ooc and #Moth's yapping to avoid confusion.

Dark themes will be explored on this blog, such as past abuse and neglect, general mental illnesses, dysfunctional family dynamics, emotional and psychological abuse, as well as (witnessed) domestic abuse.

Everything will be tagged (and please tell me if I missed something!) But please be safe when interacting!

These themes will not always be present, and Liam's blog will usually stay lighthearted. Still, it's good to keep in mind!

Boundaries, and so on!

No NSFW or suggestive things! Both the muse and mod are minors. Don't be a fuckin' weirdo. *Almost any kind of blog is allowed to interact! Sentient Pokemon, Eeby Deebies, Evil teams, fallers, etc! *Self-Insert fallers, please do not interact. I personally cannot handle these kinds of blogs. Self-insert ocs are fine, but the idea of a real person on rotomblr being isekaid into Pokémon is not. (Liam will likely not believe you for a while- unless he has significant reason to. He'll think it's a roleplayer, otherkin, or something like that. He will be willing to play along though!) In-Character Anon hate is allowed! Feel free to bully him, but remember that I'm not obligated to answer everything! Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are off currently! You may be able to convince him to turn it on! Mystery Gifts are closed! Though if this and Pelipper mail were to open, this one is preferred! Musharna mail, and Musharna malice are always on! Magic anons are off.

Organizational Tags! (HOW DID I FORGET FOR SO LONG)

Liam Chatters - General post tag! As long as he's saying something in the text portion, it'll be tagged. Reblog! ^w^ - Reblog tag. Pretty self explanatory Future Sight (queue) - Queued posts tag! Again pretty self explanatory. Liam used Doodle! - Art tag! Liam's art will be tagged as this, for those who want to see it. Foresight - Out of character tag. It marks posts that will potentially be important in the future. This can range from his opinions on things to heavy lore posts! Good tag to read through if you think you're missing something!

Friend Tags! (Tags for friends!)

#Tari mention - tag for Tari from @/pokemoncryptids #faith is friending - tag for Faith from @/faithispokemoning

ONGOING ARCS:

Mask Off Arc - [summary will come after it ends]

PAST ARCS/EVENTS:

#Lucy Strikes! - One of Liam's friends stole his phone while they were supposed to be visiting. General warnings for bullying.

Blocklist:

These are blogs Liam has blocked in-character! usually for lore reasons! these are not blogs that have personally been blocked, feel free to interact on anon if you're on this list!

@/tinkatinktrain

@/sound-type-advocate

[villainofmyownstory]

WIP whenever

I was unexpectedly tagged by the very talented writer @pricegouge to post an updated WIP. Thank you very much! And before you check out these little thing, check out @pricegouge's stories, in particular I recommend Fatted Rabbit - a true masterpiece. <3 Let's just say that the one below is a continuation of Blurry. Unfortunately I've been very busy at work lately and haven't had time to write anything. But hopefully in about two weeks I'll get back to a normal routine and have more free time. I'll tag @ilragnotessitore , @kyletogaz and @hyperactively-me don't feel obliged, no pressure if you don't want to post anything

______________________________________________________________

It is said that falling in love comes easily. That there is such a thing as love at first sight. That soulmates can be met instantly.

Well, your first meeting with John was not what you heard about in stories of friends falling in love. Or in family stories told at your parents' next wedding anniversary.

It was completely different.

When you first met, you didn't seem nice or kind to him at all. But maybe that's what he needed. Maybe he just needed a harsh and rough tone. Maybe also a little rudeness. At that time, everyone felt sorry for him, patted him on the head or walked around him on eggshells.

And you were completely different. Years later, he always said that that spark of anger in your eyes attracted him to you from the very beginning.

Although you found it hard to believe, after all, he was your husband. Well, exactly - he was.

Another day had passed when you were in that house, every morning he asked you the same thing. Moreover, his short-term memory was problematic, but he remembered exactly what his missions were like 20 or 10 years ago.

”But what did you do yesterday Captain?"

“Oh, little dove, how could I forget a doll like you?”

Every day was the same. And you didn't cry about it anymore. Maybe it was better that way. One heart shattered into millions of pieces was enough.

Doctors said not to push, not to remind him of those worst, most difficult moments. That could have made his condition worse.

But he wasn't the same person he used to be.

He wasn't himself.

He wasn't Captain.

And even more than that, he was no longer your John.

He could look better physically, and many doctors, nurses in the hospital, tried to date him. Even the married ones. However, when it came to the story of this accident.

Well. He's stuck with three boys and you.

Despite the pain, you were unable to fully let go. Even though piece by piece you felt your heart being torn into more small, bloody fragments.

However, on the last day, when you are already sitting packed in the living room, waiting for the arrival of the person who will replace you. Someone who will take over the care. His phone rang.

And hearing his cheerful voice, you immediately knew who was calling.

His past. A person with whom he had experienced more seasons than with you. Someone he remembered. And what probably hurt you the most. His previous life came to an end long before. But it always made itself known at the least expected moments. Coming out of a dark corner, biting at ankles, pulling at shirt. Causing dark clouds to appear in your head again.

Because his previous family was still present. Even though he closed that chapter long before you were together, it still bothered you. It made you feel uncomfortable.

Now his laughter echoed in that empty big house, but it wasn't meant for you.

And you lose yourself once again in longing, in the need to be someone again. His.

“Oh, little dove, how could I forget a doll like you?”

And yet, he still didn't remember.

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

aaaannd also tag @blackhawkfanatic @who-needs-to-sleep @rafaelacallinybbay bc you ask for part 2 sorry to disappoint you but I need more time, but I'll definitely come back to it someday