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welldonebeca · 1 year

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Strawberry Jam

Summary: Bucky comforts you after you have a rough day at work. Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader WC: 3.1k words Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Vaginal sex. Unprotected sex. Wife kink. Marriage Kink. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Passionate sex.

Writing is my only source of Income in this pandemic. If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Bucky mixed the gooey hot red am with the wooden spoon, breathing in deep to get the sweet smell, ready to pot them up.

He was doing this especially for you - you loved homemade jam with all your heart, and ate it almost every day. The jar you had at home was now empty, however, and he was trying his best to make a version of it.

Bucky had just come back from the farmer’s market, where he had gone to buy more fruits and veggies for just the third week in a row. They didn’t have your beloved strawberry jam there, but the seller was nice enough to give him the basic recipe to make it at home.

Your new house routine was something he was just starting to get used to. The two of you had moved in together recently, a little over a month ago. Bucky had left the compound, retired at last, and now his days were filled with being whatever version of a non-married househusband he could be while just your boyfriend. His retirement pension was enough for him to live on his own forever, and your job wasn’t bad either.

So right now, you two had a lot of plants, a dog and a moody cat, and no couch yet, and were planning to get married in the next couple of years - he was looking for a ring, actually.

And speaking of your dog, Phoebe was watching him with a lot of curiosity and pleading eyes, always the hungry girl, and Bucky scoffed, leaving the jar and picking up a strawberry from the counter, taking off the green part before tossing it to her, moving right back to putting the jam in the jar, realising quickly he needed a second one when half of the jam was still in the pan.

Once he finished, he was very proud of what he saw.

It looked good, it smelled good, and he was sure it tasted good too.

Maybe he should bake something to eat with that jam. Maybe biscuits?

Or bread.

He really liked baking home bread. His favourite was sourdough.

Bucky was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard the sound of the door opening and Phoebe’s paws on the floor as she ran to greet you, overexcited as always.

He waited to hear you come over and say hi, but the house kept silence aside from a few mumbles as you said hi to Phoebe and Alpine, probably with some kisses.

Finally, you walked to the kitchen and leaned onto the door frame, looking at him with a sad and weak smile.

“Hey,” you spoke softly.

His shoulders fell in a when he realised the sadness behind your voice.

“Hi," Bucky cleaned his hand, moving to you.

He pressed a little kiss to your lips, worried, and you sighed a little.

You were a lawyer, which was a very tasking job, and sometimes mined your whole energy, or took a little more of your heart than you were initially willing to give.

Recently, you’d been working on the case of a kid who had had to go through a second amputation surgery after an accident in a restaurant months after his first imputation, both on the same leg. The family was suing for the legal and medical expenses, which included his therapy, and monetary compensation that would be used for the boy’s tuition once he decided to go to college.

“What happened?” he asked gently, raising his hand to caress your hair.

“They want to test the ramp of the restaurant,” you told him. “To see if it was possible for him to fall.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded slowly.

“But they renovated the whole place!” you pointed you, growing angry. “And put a handle that wasn’t there that day. Mr Green’s sister took pictures while the ambulance was called! It looks completely different!”

He reached for your face, caressing your cheek gently.

“And what did the judge say?”

“He wants to analyse the photos before saying anything,” you sighed. “And a second medical opinion. They want this kid to go through a whole medical evaluation again!”

He reached for you, caressing your cheek.

“I’m sure they’ll be reasonable and careful,” he assured you. “The doctors know it is a complicated moment for him. And his dads are going to be there.”

You sighed, pinching your nose.

“They are also insinuating his dads were neglectful with him and that was why he fell,” you added. “I swear to God, that restaurant…”

You hid your face in his chest and groaned.

“I hate them,” you whined.

“I know,” he caressed your hair.

There was a moment of silence, and you moved your head up slowly, resting your mouth on his shoulder and looking behind him, into the kitchen.

“Is that homemade jam?” you asked, mumbling against his shirt.

Bucky threw a look at the counter.

“Yes,” he confirmed, looking back at you, a little excited for his effort being noticed. “I just made it.”

You groaned once again, though softer, against his skin.

“Did you make it yourself?” you asked.

“I did,” he told you, grinning. “Do you want to try it once it is cooler?”

You nodded, and he kissed your temple.

“Do you want me to prepare you a bath?” he offered. “And we can leave work to work?”

You sighed.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “Please.”

Bucky kissed your forehead again, slowly moving down to kiss your nose and then your lips.

He took your hand and walked with you into your bedroom, leaving you behind to set up your bath, filling up the tub and adding the bubbles and the rose oil to the slowly growing water.

He heard the sounds of your steps behind him, and raised his head to find you watching him from the door, fully naked, lips curled in a little teasing smile.

“Hey,” you rested your head on the door frame. “Still dressed?”

It didn’t matter how long you were together, Bucky was proud to never get used to seeing you naked. Seeing you never ceased to fully enchant him.

Bucky looked at himself, a little surprised at the question.

“I wasn’t planning to get inside, actually,” he looked at your face.

You feigned outrage.

“Me?” you asked, exaggerated. “On my own? In this big tub?”

Bucky scowled, and you pouted.

“It’s going to be so lonely!” you remarked. “And cold.”

He chuckled.

“In this warm water?” he asked.

“But so vast,” you teased him. “Without my husband with me.”

Bucky’s cock awoke with the little word.

Your husband.

Oh, how he loved being called your husband.

The two of you were planning to be married in the near future and were practically engaged now, but the title was still something he wanted to conquer, and loved hearing from your lips.

You reached down for him, pulling him to stand up, and Bucky held you closer as you threw your hands on his shoulders, squeezing him.

“Don’t you want to come inside with me?” you bit his lower lip. “Keep me company?”

He hummed, chuckling, and knew he couldn’t just say no to you.

“Of course, wife,” he gave your lips a peck.

You giggled, and stepped away, leaning on the counter and watching him as he took off his clothes, kicking off his shoes, pants and underwear all in one go, earning a little chuckle from you.

“Impatient?” you asked, grinning.

He just chuckled along with you.

“Always,” he shot you a playful wink.

Bucky leant to you again, holding your hips and caressing your skin with his fingers.

“Come on, wife,” he nudged you in the right direction. “Let’s get you in your bath.”

He stepped away from you, and let you take his hand as you stepped into the full tub and knelt, waiting for him to come and sit, and Bucky entered right after, relaxing at the feeling of the warm water against his skin right before you leant to rest against him, sighing.

“What do you think?” he kissed your temple. “Good?”

You nodded and he put his hand over your stomach, pulling you a little closer, and kissed your shoulder.

“You are a great lawyer,” he squeezed you. “And I’m very proud of you and of what you do.”

You whined, putting your hand over his, sounding both boomed and embarrassed.

“Bucky!” you rolled your eyes.

“I mean it!” he exclaimed.

You just shook your head.

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. “I feel like I could do more for them.”

“Like what?” he caressed your skin gently with the hand he had on your stomach.

Bucky waited for an answer, but you grimaced, apparently not finding anything you hadn’t already done for the family you were representing.

“You have done a lot,” he kissed your temple. “Now it’s not in your hands anymore.”

You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder, and Bucky slowly moved the fingers he had on your stomach to your breast, running them on the flesh and plump bottom of it.

“You should relax,” he whispered into your ear. “Let your husband help you relax, wife.”

You squirmed, cheeks flushing in a blush.

“Bucky,” you threw your head back a little bit.

He caressed your breast slowly, massaging it and reaching for your nipple, pulling on it slowly and making you whimper.

“My pretty wife,” he touched your other breast, doing the same to it, teasing and playing with your sensitive peaks. “Such a hard-working woman, the one I found for myself.”

You arched your chest to his hands, exhaling in a very soft sound.

“You work so hard,” he played with your nipples, watching your body squirming and shivering, reacting to his touches.

He trailed one of his hands down to your hips, and felt you spreading your legs under the water.

“My pretty wife,” he kissed your neck. “A big shot lawyer…”

You giggled, and he spread your inner lips and folds, already finding them slicky and wet.

“So sensitive for her husband,” he touched your entrance.

You arched your hips, whimpering a little, and he kissed your shoulder.

“Always making me so proud…” he tapped your clit softly. “But never relaxing.”

“Bucky…” you whined.

You pouted, squirming and moaning, and he hummed along with you, kissing the sweet spots of your neck.

He could feel the difference between the actual water and your wetness, even underwater. Your pussy was slick, warm and welcoming, and practically hugged his finger tightly when he pushed it into your cunt, and you whimpered when he took his finger up to your clit again, rolling it slowly.

“Such a lovely cunt,” he cooed into your ear, fingers picking up their pace. “I can feel it drooling for me even with the water, my pretty wife. You’re always so responsive to me.”

You moaned, arching your body to him, and he squeezed your tit in his hand, reaching for your stiff nipple and pulling on it, twisting it, grinning as he watched your face twisting and heard the mix of a gasp and a moan coming from your lips.

“Such perfect tits,” he kissed the curve of your neck. “And a perfect cunt, so hungry and so receptive.”

You continued to moan and squirm, with his name falling from your lips along with your little sounds, as his fingers never stopped to play and tease your clit and tit.

He knew he was going to be gladly buried in there tonight, licking and sucking your folds, taking orgasm after orgasm from you until you were a wreck, foggy eyed and only able to say his name.

But right now, you were having a relaxing bath, and he was never going to stop his perfect wife from relaxing.

So he played you like you were his favourite instrument - which you were - as he whispered sweet dirty words into your ears and felt your body moving and heard your moans growing, and held you down when your hips started thrusting against his hand.

“You’re gonna cum, my pretty wife?” he kissed your shoulder. “Gonna cum for your husband?”

“Yes,” you cried. “Yes, Bucky, please.”

He picked up on his pace, holding you down as you came, quivering and shaking, crying out loud.

You were still quivering when he stood up, picking you up and walking back to your bedroom, and threw you on the bed.

“Bucky!” you squeaked, giggling.

James climbed on top of you, not caring about how your bodies were getting everything wet, and kissed your lips hungrily.

“My pretty wife,” he kissed your neck, moving down and kissing your chest before he grabbed your knee, pushing it up.

You pushed your fingers into his hair, pulling him right back and kissing him, and he angled his cock, pushing it into your cunt and resting his forehead on his when you gasped. He’d been hard since you sat between his legs in the tub.

Fuck, you were so wet, so warm.

“Bucky,” you closed your eyes.

“My wife,” he grunted against your lips, thrusting into you. “Always so wet for me.”

You arched your hips, meeting his strokes, already sensitive from your previous orgasm, as your cunt squeezed his cock, hungry and slicky. It was so easy for him to make you cum. Bucky loved taking and taking them from you, making you scream for him.

So he took his fingers to your cunt, and played with your clit, devouring your lips and your moans as he worked on making you feel good, and pulled back to look at your face when you inhaled deeply.

It was an image he truly adored, the way cheeks flushed, and your eyes closed, and your lips parted as you found your way over the edge.

The walls of your cunt fluttered around his cock, and he had to hold himself from cumming for a split of a moment, completely taken by you.

And then you pulled him back, kissing him with even more hunger than before, moving your body to get closer to him, and pouted when he pulled away from you.

“Husband,” you whined.

Bucky grunted at the name, throbbing inside you, and took his lips down to your neck, sucking on it before pushing his lips to your chest. The position you two were before didn’t make it easy for him to access them, but now they were right in front of him.

He bit the flesh of your tits for a moment, and then your nipple, and bit down on it gently before sucking on your flesh.

He loved sucking marks on your skin, marking you, to make everyone know you were his. It was sad that he needed to keep his bruises a little hidden because of your job.

As long as you knew it and they reminded you of how you were his, it was enough.

“Bucky,” you arched your chest.

“Want to make you feel good,” he rolled your clit in his finger, earning a whimper from you.

He pinched your clit a little and chuckled when you squeaked, cunt fluttering around his cock again, and your sounds made it even more obvious how you were already near the edge.

“James!” you gasped, arching your body to him. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum again?” he asked, smiling at you. “Already, baby?”

You pouted.

“Want to cum together,” you affirmed, moving your fingers on his back and running your nails over his skin. “Please, husband.”

He looked back at your face and rubbed his nose on yours.

“Please,” you panted. “I want to make you feel good.”

Your cunt squeezed his cock, getting wetter and warmer.

“Y/N,” he grunted.

He was holding himself back for quite a bit of time. Bucky wanted to ravish you, to make you come apart.

Still, you pulled him up, and kissed him.

“Please,” you moaned. “Together.”

How could he say no?

Bucky angled himself, resting his forehead on yours and moaning when your walls squeezed him, joining you in your soft wanton cries.

“Cum with me,” you pleaded. “Please, husband. Fill me up.”

He grunted, squeezing you close as he thrust into you, letting his eyes close and his body take him.

“With me,” he grunted, playing faster with your clit. “Cum with me. Milk my cock.”

You pulled him up to kiss him, moaning into his lips as your cunt started squeezing around him, triggering his orgasm along with yours, and he rode it fucking you, faster and faster, and slowly down little by little.

Bucky had his eyes closed when you kissed him, first his nose and then his jaw, and then his lips again, brushing his hair with your fingers.

He pulled himself from inside you and laid by your side, pulling you to his chest and kissing your temple, moving his fingers up and down your back.

“Rest a little,” he instructed. “I still want to devour your cunt.”

You laughed into his neck, amused, but Bucky scowled, reaching down and pinching your ass.

“I mean it!” he insisted.

You raised your head to look at him, pressing your lips to his and giving him a hungry kiss.

“I can’t wait,” you assured him.

You lied back, but pulled back with a surprised face when you seemed to realise something.

“Bucky, I almost forgot!” you exclaimed. “The Greens invited me to Joshua’s birthday and said I could take my partner with me.”

He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised, and you moved your hand to metal hand, interlacing your fingers with his.

“I want to go,” you told him, firmly. “But you don’t have to come if you didn’t want to. I know you don’t like parties.”

Parties were noisy, and he wasn’t that big of a fan of noise. But the invitation had been extended not just to you, but to him too.

He was about to answer when an idea sparked in his mind.

“Would they mind if I brought one of the guys?” he asked. “Do you think the boy would like to meet one of the Avengers?”

It was your turn to look a little surprised. It wasn’t like you made your relationship with Bucky public. The few pictures you had with him in your office had a remarkable lack of his face and arm in them, to keep his privacy intact. He doubted anyone ever made such a connection.

“I can ask them,” you told him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I’m sure Tony will be happy to send a fun gift, and either Sam or Steve are happy to show up. Or Clint, too.”

You nodded, laying back down.

“Okay, I’ll ask them about it.”

Bucky kissed your cheek again, and squeezed you close with his right arm.

“Come on,” he bit your lower lip, chuckling a little with the joke in his own mind. “Let’s get you something to eat before it’s my turn to eat you.”

. . .

"Strawberry Jam" was posted on my Patreon back in July! To Have early access to all of my fic, consider subscribing! It's just $2 a month!

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chocodile · 1 year

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An illustration of Bani, my cat who passed away at the beginning of March 2023. She was my best friend. I still miss her every day.

A little writeup/”poem”(?) about her last few years under the cut.

When Bani was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease in early 2020, I asked her to make it through the pandemic because it felt like the world was ending and I couldn't lose her, too. And she did.

When we moved to a new state in 2021, we asked her to make it for a while in the new house because I didn't want this happy new chapter of our lives to be tainted with such a painful loss so early on. I wanted the house to feel like our family’s house, not "the house without Bani." And she did.

When she had her first major health crisis in early summer 2022 at the same time I was trying to job hunt, I asked her to make it through me getting settled into the new job, because I was already feeling out of my depth and struggling with the adjustment and needed her support and love to keep strong. And she did.

When she was almost 18 in fall of 2022, we asked her to make it to 18, because I had been telling people for ages that my cat was "almost 18 years old" and I didn't want her to always be "almost 18 years old". I wanted to celebrate her birthday with her. And she did.

When we had plans to leave for Christmas at the end of 2022, we asked her to make it through until we got back, because it would be too impossibly sad for her to pass while we weren't here to be with her. And she did.

When my birthday was coming up in January 2023, I asked her to make it past my birthday, because I wanted to be with her on my birthday. And she did.

The winter has been long and hard and cold and miserable. Earlier this winter, before Christmas, Katie asked her to make it to March. I thought that March was a lot to ask of such an old cat. I wasn’t sure if she had that much juice left in her. I would understand if she didn’t.

But she did. At 18 years and 3 months old, she made it to March 2nd, 2023. But by then she was very old and very, very tired. Katie and I told her it was alright, she’d done enough and could rest now.

She passed away in my arms, on her favorite pillow, with Aunt Katie beside her, in bed, cozy and warm with a tummy full of cheese, just as she would have wanted.

#pets #cats #pet cat #pet loss #pet portrait #animal death //#death mention //#sorry for little art lately I've been in a bit of a funk since she died #March has been a pretty wretched month overall honestly #April has been... better... but I still feel like I'm not done recovering from March #also been working on some larger non digital art projects and trying to put together a garden

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jessicafurseth · 6 months

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Reading List, In a Flash edition.

The Laughing Heart [Charles Bukowski, 1993] Your life is your life Don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. Be on the watch. There are ways out. There is a light somewhere. It may not be much light but it beats the darkness. Be on the watch. The gods will offer you chances. Know them. Take them. You can’t beat death but you can beat death in life, sometimes. And the more often you learn to do it, the more light there will be. Your life is your life. Know it while you have it. You are marvelous. The gods wait to delight In you.

[Image: Lucas Allen]

"Some of the ways friendship changes in this life stage is just “being in your 30s.” Friends are already disappearing from dinner parties and birthdays and day trips and concerts and “God, I’ve had a shit week. Can we just sit on your couch and eat takeout?’’ evenings. There are so many big events besides having children that make you less available to friends: serious relationships, career changes, getting sober, moving cities, caring for aging parents, finances. We talk through those moments because we’re aware enough of how important friendships are and how hard they are to keep. You literally live longer the more adult friends you have, and if you believe the surgeon general, we’re all one invitation away from being part of the “loneliness epidemic.” Parenthood (specifically motherhood) is a known contributor to feeling isolated, but though we tell friends, “You work too hard,” or even, “Your new girlfriend is a drag,” we never point our fingers at the baby and say, “That thing is tearing us all apart." Can Parents and Childless People Be Friends? [Allison P Davies, The Cut]

"We have brothers, sons, lovers – but they can’t live here!" The 26 older women living in a cohousing community in Chipping Barnet [Anita Chaudhuri, The Guardian]

The Case for Love-Life Balance [Faith Hill, The Atlantic]

‘Oddly satisfying’: what’s behind our drive to collect useless items? [Amelia Tait, The Guardian]

Celebrities are now “honest” about diet, exercise and beauty. I wish they weren’t [Amelia Tait, The New Statesman]

"The internet as we know it is a glorious, awful, intricate, sprawling series of networks that needs our information in order to function. We cannot go back to a time before this was true—before turn-by-turn directions and eerily well-targeted ads, before we carried little data-collection machines in our pockets all day—and nor would all of us want to. But we can demand much more from the reckless stewards of our information." What Digital Privacy Is Worth [Charlie Warzel, The Atlantic]

"There are so many fun things to do on the internet. You can watch that History of Japan video for the zillionth time. You can have a glass of wine and reply enthusiastically to the Instagram Stories of everyone you know. Anything, truly anything, is a better use of your time than getting upset that a stranger somewhere disagrees with you." Social media is making you angry. You simply have to ignore it. [Rebecca Jennings, Vox]

You don't have to post about your moral outrage [Elizabeth Spiers, The New Yorker]

Citizenship Restored - a fascinating story about gaining German citizenship as a descendant of Jewish refugees [Daniel Trilling, the London Review of Books]

"This pandemic skip — the strange sensation that our bodies might be a step out of sync with our minds — happened to people of all ages. We’ve heard of those freshmen in high school, who, never having attended middle school, went back to their classrooms punching each other like 12-year-olds. A friend skipped from 57 to 60 and, when she started dressing up to leave the house again, realized she felt distinctly out of sorts in her clothes — her dresses felt suddenly too short or too colorful. (At 57, she said, patterns felt ironic. At 60, they didn’t.) My skip, I realized, had carried me swiftly through what would have been my last couple years of socially permissible carelessness. And what I’d dropped into didn’t especially appeal, particularly after having been trapped in the house cats-in-a-bag style for three years: real adulthood with all its attendant concerns." The Pandemic Skip [Katy Schneider. New York Magazine]

“I was on my own so much, just with my thoughts. The way I describe it is like weeding your garden. You don’t realise it, but your head is full of these weeds and when you’re walking, you’re on your knees pulling weeds. After about a year and a half, when I was down in south Peru, I felt like I’d thought all the thoughts, and the garden was clean. There was no more angst, no regrets, nothing I could pick through. I was in the Atacama desert, lying under a million stars, and it felt I was at the bottom of myself. All the doubts went. It was a hollowed-out feeling. A simple sense of existing – you’re just a small little creature in the universe. It was just peace.” Tom Turcich on his seven-year walk around the world [Simon Hattenstone, The Guardian]

A Guide to Lana Del Rey’s Literary References [Sophie Lou Wilson. AnOther Magazine]

"A completely correct theory, in which one of our greatest movie stars reveals humanity’s changing relationship to modernity." Sandra Bullock and the Rise of Tech [Jim Windolf, The New York Times]

"When people say they’re able to strictly abide a certain diet under any circumstances, I feel both a bit jealous and also incredulous: what are you missing? Not just food-wise, but conversation-wise. I find it important that I’m always coming into friction in the world about being a bivalve-eating vegetarian: how else would I know how unfriendly the world is to a plant-based diet? How else would I be told stories of the vegans who eat cheese only in Spain or the vegetarians who make accommodations for certain seafood? I want to know these stories, and I want to know everyone’s food story." On the ‘Grandma Rule’ [Alicia Kennedy]

Historic England is creating an online map of ghost signs [Steven Morris, The Guardian]

#reading list

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englishstrawbie · 2 years

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Serendipity (28/?)

Fandom: Station 19, Grey’s Anatomy

Characters: Maya Bishop & Carina DeLuca

Summary: A chance meeting at a bar leads to these two idiots falling in love. Follows canon and fills in the gaps of their relationship that we didn’t get to see on screen.

Also @ AO3.

* * * * *

In Memoriam

How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. - Winnie The Pooh

Maya leaves the station just after six-thirty, starting the three block walk to the hospital by herself. Her stomach flips with nervous excitement, which she knows is ridiculous because she is only going to get to see Carina for a few seconds and they can’t be close to one another, but she knows that seeing her girlfriend even from a distance will bring her the joy she needs today.

They haven’t seen each other since the evening she had spent sat on the ground outside Carina’s townhouse – not physically, at least. There have been video chats, in between the phone calls and text messages. Carina is calmer now, although her job is still difficult, not to mention traumatic at times. Maya hates that she can’t simply wrap her up in a hug, that protocols and risk assessments have taken away all moments of intimacy between them.

She needs her today more than any other day of the pandemic so far, craving her calming influence and words of love. They say goodbye to Pruitt Herrera this afternoon. Even though he has been gone for over a month, the loss still feels raw. She wonders often what he would make of the pandemic and if he would think she was doing a good job of leading the team during these strange times. She feels the weight of it on her shoulders and sometimes it feels like an impossible task; but then they will do a drive by and people will come out of their houses to cheer and wave at them, and it reminds her that there is still joy in the world.

She bumps into Jack and Dean as she turns the corner. They both look cheerful, despite the earlier than usual start to their day.

“Bishop.”

“Captain.”

“Hey guys,” she greets them, falling into step beside them.

“You haven’t been working already, have you?” Jack asks, knowing that she has been overwhelmed at times by the amount of extra work generated by the pandemic.

Maya shakes her head. “No, I just stopped by the station to drop off my car.”

They make small talk as they make their way to the hospital, the mood kept light by Dean’s infectious happiness as he shows them photos of baby Pru crawling for the first time, the pitter patter of her tiny hands on the hard floor of the houseboat making them all smile.

“I miss that little squish,” Jack says fondly.

“She misses you all too,” Dean says. He looks over at Maya. “Will Carina be there this morning?”

“She’d better be,” Maya says.

Although their visit is to be a surprise for Bailey, Maya had told Carina about their plan last night. Of course she would have been there no matter what, but it was knowing that she was going to get to see her girlfriend that got her jumping out of bed this morning. Carina had promised to get to work early, to be there when they start their clapout, and Maya prays that there are no last minute emergencies to take her away.

They turn the corner where the others have already congregated and Maya feels her heart start to beat a little faster in anticipation.

“Hey,” Ben greets them. “Thank you, guys, for getting up an hour early. I... it means a lot to me.”

If only he knew she has selfish reasons for being there.

Miranda appears and Ben’s kids call out to her, happy to see their mom.

“My boys!” Miranda cries gleefully at seeing her family. “What… oh, Benjamin Warren, you are a sight for sore eyes. And back, and feet.”

Maya keeps her eyes on the door as they chat – waiting. She doesn’t have to wait long before Carina appears, clearly searching her out. The moment her eyes find Maya, she lets out a happy sigh, her shoulders dropping with relief. From behind her mask, Maya feels herself beaming at her.

She takes her in. She looks tired, of course, but even though her face is hidden by the mask and goggles she wears, Maya can see her cheeks have more colour and her eyes shine, a far cry from the broken woman she saw through the front door last week.

They don’t need words to be able to convey how good it is to see each other, or how much they love and miss each other. It is all in their eyes, and Maya sees the same emotions she feels reflected back to her in Carina’s face.

“You guys, you guys, it's time,” someone says, as a stream of doctors, nurses and orderlies from Grey Sloan appear outside the hospital: some going in to work, some heading home, some making their way to the triage point outside.

The team from nineteen start to clap and cheer, a chorus of “thank you!” and “we love you!” filling the air.

Maya keeps her eyes on Carina, who bows her head as a thank you. She knows she can’t stay long, but it is over too quickly and Carina presses her gloved hand to her mask to send a kiss through the air to her, before turning on her heel and heading back inside.

Maya’s heart deflates a little once Carina is no longer in her sight, reminded almost immediately of how much she misses her. She misses having her in her arms and in her bed. It has only been a couple of weeks, and it’s not like they lived in each other’s pockets before the pandemic started, but the fact that they aren’t allowed to see each other, to touch each other, makes the longing worse.

After a few minutes, the crowd reduces, the clapping and cheering dies down, and the team turn towards each other.

“I need to drop off some groceries to my parents before shift starts,” Travis announces. “That okay, Cap?”

Maya nods. “Of course.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you!” Vic says.

“Yeah, and I need to drop some stuff off with Marsha,” Jack says.

Maya looks amused, but doesn’t stop them, knowing that these little things bring them some comfort. “Just be back by eight.”

She is the first one to turn and head back towards the station, listening to the team chat animatedly. The clapout seems to have brought some cheer to themselves, as well as the hospital staff, and Maya knows they needed it today. The only voice that is quiet is Andy’s, and Maya walks a few paces ahead, fearful that she will accost her once again to ask her about the last words Pruitt had spoken to her before he had gone up on to the roof that day.

She feels guilty, of course, for avoiding her best friend when she knows she is struggling to write the eulogy, but she has replayed that day so many times already and Andy’s persistent questions send her back to that moment, watching him climb the ladder, watching him pound the roof with his axe over and over again, until it gives way and he falls into the flames.

She shivers, shaking it off.

“You okay?”

Maya turns her head to see Jack quicken his pace to walk beside her.

“Yeah, just lost in my own head,” Maya says.

“Carina?” His voice is hesitant, like he knows he shouldn’t be asking about her girlfriend after their recent tryst, but trying to be a good friend at the same time.

Maya lets him off the hook, shaking her head. “Herrera.”

Jack stuffs his hands in his pockets as he walks. “Yeah. Me too.” She hears him sigh. “I miss him.”

“I miss him, too,” Maya says.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, Carina’s face flashing on the screen. She answers quickly.

“Hey you.”

“I miss seeing you already,” Carina says, her voice purring in only the way she does.

Maya smiles to herself. “I miss you too.”

She feels Jack step away from her. “Hey Miller, wait up!” he calls out, heading towards where Dean walks with Ben.

His voice is loud enough for Maya to know that he could be heard down the phone and she is pretty sure she can hear Carina’s eyebrow arch upwards.

“We’re just walking back to the station,” Maya says before Carina can grumble. “With everyone else.”

She hears a hiss, as Carina purses her lips and inhales. “You know, I think it’s time we set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?”

“Si, like you and Jack aren’t allowed to be alone together. Ever. Punto.”

Maya frowns. She doesn’t want to point out that it’s not exactly the easiest rule to follow, since they work together. “I…” she starts, but catches herself. “Okay. Anything else?”

“You don’t talk to him about me, or us,” Carina says. “I know you’re friends, but I don’t like the idea of him knowing things about our relationship.”

“That’s fair,” Maya says. “I can do that for you. For us.”

On the other end of the phone, Carina nods her head resolutely, softening at Maya’s willingness to concede to her demands. “I really did like seeing you this morning.”

“Me too. I wish we could’ve been closer than six feet apart,” Maya says wistfully.

Carina catches the sadness in her voice. “What’s wrong, bella?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” Maya pauses. “It’s Pruitt’s memorial today and he deserves more than an online service, and Andy keeps asking me about what he said to me that day, and I hate remembering it, and I’m trying to keep things together for the team because I know they’re all struggling, and I just… I wish that you and me could just…”

“Wrap ourselves up in a blanket and shut the door on the world for a while?” Carina finishes her sentence for her, remembering the words Maya had spoken last week when she had needed to hear them.

“Yeah.” She takes a deep breath. “Do you think you’ll be able to watch the memorial later? I know it’s probably not easy when you’ve got so many patients.”

“And miss the chance to see you in your uniform?” Carina teases.

It is an obvious attempt to lighten her mood, and it works as Maya laughs. “You always know how to make me feel better.” She hears Carina’s pager start to beep. “You have to go?”

“I do,” Carina says ruefully. “But I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Maya says. “I hope today isn’t a horrible one.”

“For you too,” Carina says. “I’ll be thinking of you all later.”

Maya hits the red button and slides her phone into her back pocket, just as she arrives back at the station. The team disperse, those who are not heading out to deliver supplies to their family heading towards the beanery and break room to relax before another shift. Maya goes straight to her office, closing the door behind her and flopping down into her chair.

Craving the physical affection she knows she can’t get, she closes her eyes, thinking of the way Carina will press her body against hers as they fall asleep, their hands holding each other all night; her head resting on her shoulder, her breath warm on Maya’s neck. It works, and she feels the tension ease a little, her lips curling into a small smile.

The morning passes quickly. A call out to Black Ball Hill keeps them busy, the wind blowing embers from a car fire into the trees and causing them problems. It is the kind of call that Maya thrives on, using her strategic brain to get the fire under control. It is also the kind of call out that makes her proud of her team, watching them work together with ease. They are smart and quick thinking, they anticipate each other’s next step, and their years of working together shows in moments like these.

It prompts something in her mind that she had forgotten and she brings it up with Andy in the fire truck on the way back to the station.

“He said something else, your Dad,” she says as they drive through the neighbourhood. “I guess I didn't think to mention it before because I was so worried about remembering the other thing. He said he handpicked us all; all of us at nineteen. And he said that…” she pauses to laugh, “…even though we weren't all the best recruits, that he saw something in all of us that he knew would work as a family.”

She turns her head to look at Andy, whose eyes are filling with tears.

“Does that help at all?”

Andy nods. “Yeah, actually it does,” she says, her voice choked by her grief.

“You’ll know what to say,” Maya says. “He’s your dad and you love him. When it comes to it, just talk from your heart.”

Andy nods, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “Thank you.”

The rest of the journey is silent and when they pull into the station, there is a sombre mood amongst the team. It is unusual for them to be so quiet after a successful call, but the memorial service is on everyone’s minds. Maya doesn’t need to give them orders to do their chores, they get started immediately, the only sound the melodic humming from Dean as he works. His deep voice is calming to them all.

“Thirty minutes, then showers,” Maya says, a soft tone to her voice.

She makes use of the empty shower room to get ready for the service, then heads back to her office to write up her incident report. She works quickly, only a sweet message from Carina, telling her that she loves her and is thinking of them all, distracting her for a moment.

Once done, she heads into the captain’s bunk to grab her jacket, slipping her arms into it and pulling it over her shoulders. She hears a soft knock at the door and emerges from the captain’s bunk just as Sullivan steps into her office.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Thanks for the assist today,” she says, her voice lacking emotion.

They haven’t really spoken since he made his confession to Dixon and the Civil Service Commission. With his surgery and recovery time, and the pandemic, their paths haven’t crossed – and she hasn’t sought him out either.

“I know I'm not part of nineteen anymore, but I wanted to be here for Andy,” Sullivan says. “If that's okay with you?”

She is a little surprised that he appears to be asking permission, but she isn’t going to turn him away, knowing how much Andy needs her husband today. But seeing him stirs something inside of her, something that she has been holding in for the last few weeks and something that she knows needs to be said so that it doesn’t fester inside of her.

“I hate what you did and I hate that you did it on my watch. I hate that you put our nineteen family at risk and the PRT in jeopardy,” she says. “And I especially hate that you may never be a firefighter again, because you are a good firefighter and the department needs you. I respected you as a mentor, and you let me down.”

It feels good to have said it. She was never able to articulate her feelings about her father when she was younger, another mentor who abused his position. The circumstances may have been completely different, but she feels just as disappointed and isn’t afraid to tell him.

Robert pulls his mask off, wanting Maya to see the sincerity in his face as he offers her the apology she deserves to hear. “I let myself down. And I'm sorry. For all of it.”

Maya accepts his apology, after all he has been punished enough by the department for his mistakes, he doesn’t need his work family doing the same. “Then we're good.”

Sullivan slopes off and Maya straightens her jacket and tie, before heading out into the barn where the team are waiting. The engines have been moved onto the forecourt to make space for them, a semi-circle of socially-distanced chairs surrounding a podium. A photo of Captain Herrera stands at the front. Travis has hooked up his cell phone to stream the service, so that those who wanted to be there can watch. There are almost 300 people waiting online to say goodbye to him.

“I’ll go and get Andy,” Ben offers.

Maya nods. “Nineteen,” she calls softly.

“Nineteen,” they say in chorus.

They all settle on their seats, waiting for Andy, who enters the barn flanked by Ben a few moments later. She carries Pruitt’s uniform hat together with his baseball cap, and not for the first time today Maya is transported back to the moment he removed it and placed it on the wheel of the ladder truck, before making his way up to the roof to meet his demise.

Tears immediately pool in her eyes and she blinks them back, shooting Andy an encouraging smile. Ben takes the hat and cap, and places on the podium, before sitting down next to Maya. Andy, meanwhile, turns on the live stream, then makes her way to the podium. She pauses by her father’s picture, taking her place in front of them and inhaling a deep breath before starting her eulogy.

“If you're watching this, my Dad was probably your hero. He was mine. He was a great firefighter but an even better Captain,” she says. She looks down every now and again to read from her script. “He brought the best out of everyone by demanding nothing less. He was a natural leader, as anyone who's ever worked with him knows. He built great firefighters, future Captains.”

She looks across the barn towards Maya.

“Maybe even future Chiefs.”

Maya smiles through her tears. He always believed in her, he always saw her potential for who she was, not who he wanted her to be – not like her own father. She looks down for a moment, giving herself time to compose herself, before looking up again.

“But beyond that, he was the best father he could be, and that wasn't easy to do, especially on his own. My dad was faced with some pretty terrible choices when I was a kid. But he did what he thought was best for me at the time. Every time. He chose to protect me above all else. And while he may have made mistakes, I have no doubt he'd make them all again if he thought it was best for me.”

Her voice starts to break.

“It wasn't easy growing up without my Mom and without siblings, but what I've come to realise is my Dad did his best to give me family. He created a home at Station 19. And everyone under his roof was his kid.”

She laughs and the rest of the team share her smile for a moment, despite the tears that fall down their cheeks, as they remember the man who brought them together as a family and as a unit.

“So he may have spent years protecting me from pain and burying his own, but he did his best to give me the gift of a group of people who I feel closer to than any blood brother or sister. He did his best. He did his best by me. He loved me. He stayed. He stayed with me every minute he could until he had to leave me to save me one last time.”

Maya feels herself breaking and tries to hold it together, for Andy’s sake; except she realises that she doesn’t need to hide her pain, because this is her family and they all share the same loss.

“I love you, Dad. We all do. And if there's one thing I wish I could tell you, it's that I am grateful for you. Because you did your job so well.”

After the eulogy, they play one of Pruitt’s favourite pieces of music – an old Bob Dylan song from the 1970s. Dean does a reading, a poem by Helen Steiner Rice that Andy has picked out. When he is done, Maya stands and takes her position by the bell, honoured to have been asked to do this important job. She looks at Andy to make sure she is ready to hear them. Her lip wobbles as she nods at Maya, who slowly rings the bell twenty times.

The bells have always reminded Andy of the night of her mom’s funeral – or what she thought was her mom’s funeral, alone in her bedroom as her dad rang them downstairs. Maya can see the grief and confusion that is written all over her face, and wishes that someone could hold her hand as she listens.

When the service is over, Andy retreats to a bunk room with Sullivan in tow and they pack up the chairs, clearing the barn and bringing the trucks back in. The Chief has organised it so that nineteen will only be needed as a last resort for the next few hours, which will hopefully give them a reprieve from work for a while. Maya wishes more than ever that they could all descend on the beanery and enjoy a family dinner, but Ben is adamant that it is not a good idea and Maya doesn’t have the strength to fight him on it.

The only person whose company she really craves can’t be there anyway. Once the barn is back to normal, she retreats into her office. Within minutes, Carina is calling her.

“How did you know I needed to hear your voice?” she says when she answers.

“I’m very clever,” Carina says lightly. “It was a beautiful service.”

“You saw?”

“Si, Doctor Bailey and I watched it,” Carina says. “I thought Andy’s eulogy was beautiful.”

“Yeah, she did great,” Maya says. She leans back in her chair. “Tell me something about your day. Something happy.”

She knows she is asking for a lot in the middle of a pandemic but Carina delivers babies for a living, so she pins her hopes on someone getting a happy ending today.

“Well, I had a mama-to-be, thirty-eight weeks’ pregnant, come into the hospital in labour. She didn’t get any further than the ER and the only doctor who was free was Andrea.”

Maya hears her chuckle.

“You and your brother working together?”

“It caused a lot of confusion, two Doctor Delucas in the room,” Carina says. “When one of the nurses called out for Doctor Deluca to check how far dilated the mama was, because the baby was coming so quick, Andrea thought she was talking to him. I’ve never seen a patient try to snap her legs shut so quickly when she’s in advanced labour!”

Maya laughs and it feels like a welcome relief from the heaviness of the day.

“Thank you. I really needed to hear something silly,” she says.

Carina smiles. “You shouldn’t hide in your office,” she says, knowing that Maya would be alone right now. “You should be with your team.”

“I can’t… Covid protocols…”

“Oh, pooey,” Carina says, which makes Maya laugh again. “You’re a bubble, and you should be with Andy and your team right now.”

Maya knows she is talking sense and is easily persuaded. “Okay.”

“I love you,” Carina says.

Maya smiles to herself. “I love you too. Now go and be awesome.”

“I’m always awesome,” Carina jokes.

Hanging up, Maya pushes her chair backwards and stands up, heads into the captain’s bunk to change back into her casual uniform. She walks out in the barn, calling out to her team.

“NINETEEN!”

She shouts loudly to get their attention and, within minutes, they emerge from their resting spots.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Vic says, startled by her call.

“Dinner in the beanery – together,” Maya says. “Now.”

“Uh, Bishop,” Ben starts to object, but Maya holds up her hand to silence him.

“We’re a bubble,” she says. “We’re a family. And on a day like today, we should eat together.”

Everyone side-eyes Ben, who has been vocal about the need to keep six feet apart at work and berates them every time they don’t adhere to his instructions.

Andy is the first to speak. “As your lieutenant, I agree,” she says.

Travis claps Jack on the back, prompting him to speak up.

“Uh, yeah, me too,” Jack says quickly.

Ben can see he won’t win this one and his body slumps in defeat. “Fine.”

Maya nods towards the door. Vic is the first to turn, pulling Travis along with her. The rest follow, until it is just Maya and Andy.

“Did Sullivan leave?”

“Yeah, he didn’t want to overstay his welcome,” Andy says. “And he’s still working through his steps and his ninety days.”

Maya takes a step towards her and rests a hand on her arm. “Are you doing okay?”

Andy shrugs. “I guess now the memorial’s over, I… get on with the rest of my life?”

“I don’t think there’s a timeline for your grief,” Maya says. “If you need more time off work…”

“No,” Andy interjects. “Being here and working, it helps.”

“Okay, but if you need anything at any time, just ask,” Maya says.

“I will,” Andy says, with a small smile. “And thank you. For this, for a team dinner. I think it’s exactly what my dad would have wanted us to do right now.”

She places a hand over Maya’s and tugs her closer, linking their arms and pulling her towards the door.

“Come on, someone needs to stop Ben from telling everyone to keep six feet apart, otherwise I think Travis might slap him.”

#station 19 #grey's anatomy #maya bishop #carina deluca #station 19 fanfiction #and we're into season 4 finally!#ngl i can't wait to have these two reunited in the next chapter #there's only so many phone conversations I can write between them #serendipity #my fanfiction

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rattling-the-teacups · 11 months

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I know what I did. I know how I fucking did it. I know where I failed. It's my fault that we never got to live by ourselves together. It's my fault that grandma kept walking over Tyler. It's my fault that we stayed and stayed even though he wanted out of this house. The house killed him, it made him crazy. He knew the house was killing him. He knew he needed to leave. I dragged my feet when I know I shouldn't have. All of my friends, all of our friends, told us to leave. We could have left before the pandemic. We could have saved our money better during the first year of covid. We could have gotten a place of our own. My family, me, the house, our situation. Everything contributed to his deterioration, and I know I could have done a lot to stop it. But I always err on the side of not doing anything at all, and that's my biggest flaw. I wanted to make it up to him, for all the times I didn't have his back, for the times I yelled, for the times I was too stubborn to see. He went to the mental hospital, he came back to the same situation. Everyone offered to help him, let him get away for a while. I looked at apartments, asked him to do the same. But it was too little too late. He didn't accept offers to stay with others. He stayed here with me. I am the reason why he stayed here, in the house he hated to live in. I'm the reason why he was depressed, alone, feeling unloved, unaccepted. We had plenty of chances to leave, but I love my grandparents, I like the stability of family, I like no bills. I have to throw myself out there. Tyler was ready, I wasn't. I should have encouraged him to get an apartment years ago when he first suggested it. I would have followed him there. He was readying our stuff to leave. I was too scared to take the leap with him, and now I don't have him. My just rewards for being a selfish asshole. Tyler wouldn't have felt the way he did if he wasn't here. His dad keeps saying that he wishes we would have stayed in South Carolina. He's wrong, Tyler didn't want to live with his dad. He wanted to live alone with me. That's what we both wanted. Why did I let that pass me by? Why did I fucking stay? I know my grandma is manipulative, I've always known that. Tyler was tired of it. Many times I should have listened to him, and my biggest regret is not listening to him when he wanted to seriously discuss moving out. He deserved a partner who listened more and spoke less. We're both hard headed enough to have to learn our lessons the hard way, but this was the hardest way. His light has been extinguished from this world, and I played my part in dimming that light when he was alive. We both could have done better, I know that. Our problems weren't entirely my fault. We needed some counseling, and to find better ways to communicate. It's so easy to get caught up in the minutia of daily life, and forget your goals. We both struggled with depression in his last two years. I wish I had done more. I wish I got my act together when I was 24 like I was trying to, and not at 28. I wish I could tell myself four years ago to listen to Tyler. I know he'd still be alive.

#grief

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janleow · 2 months

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Start of a New Year, Retrospect and Challenges Ahead

It’s been awhile since I last blogged. ブログはお久しぶりです。(Burogu wa ohisashiburi desu). There are so many things to do! Before you know it, both the Solar New Year and Lunar New Year have passed. The Chinese New Year heralds the wooden dragon. However I do not care so much of what the zodiac signs would foretell. I do not believe in such feng shui thingy except when I need to because others believe in it. This so that I could get a better deal.

Anyway, it has been a busy year. The MCO (movement control order) was relaxed as the Covid-19 pandemic dwindled down to its less virulent and less severe form. For many countries, it was needed to ramp up the economy so that people could have jobs and livelihood to live on. Still the two raging conflicts in the Ukraine and Palestine caused quite a damper to the world economy. Causing inflation to rise as petroleum supply was reduced and freight cost to increase. No thanks to the terrorist fanatics itching to look for a fight.

Well if you want to fight, do so in the virtual world of games. Speaking about games, I have been grinding through this RAID Shadow Legends. Last year I managed to get some headway with quite a bunch of legendary champions. These helped to progress the game to a certain extent. Unfortunately gacha styled games still relied on luck and my luck has been average. I still lacked the most wanted champs to progress further. The grinding process to farm materials was also too hard. I think this is one super duper tough grinder game I have ever played. I should think of an exit strategy before I grind myself to grits!

The hope of ever getting a powerful legendary is such an enticing carrot. Unfortunately the law of probabilities has been against me all this while. But you never know the next throw of the dice might just get you that something!

So you noticed the Japanese hiragana at the start of this blog, eh? I have been at it since the start of the pandemic. It’s good to learn another language especially since I am working in a Japanese firm. My mastery is pretty low level, but it’s fun and would be useful as a mealtime talking point while taking them out and about and during entertainment time. As long as they don’t mind my bad grammar and less polite forms. Something to laugh about, it is not too bad, eh?

As for getting ready for the future, I have to be careful where I stash my retirement funds. Those pesky scammers, insurance and mutual fund managers are not to be trusted. The worst of the lot of course would be the scammers, where your funds would be totally wasted. At least you would still have some cash funds left from insurance and mutual unit trust funds. Yes, they are out to get their grimy hands in whatever way to your hard earned savings and leaving you with nothing but crumbs or worse, not even crumbs!

Too good to be true high risk investments should always be treated as scams. Don’t even give in to their promise of high returns. Yes, inflation will eat away at your fixed deposits interest which are just shy of a lower than the inflation rate. However a negative ROI (Returns of Investment) from mutual trust fund, insurance cash value balance and worse, a total wipeout from investment scams would leave you in a worse off position than just keeping it in the fixed deposit.

If you want to try your hands at getting higher returns, you should be in control of your investment. That means directly buying and selling stocks and shares, and not going through some dodgy sovereign investment house, mutual unit trust funds with their high hidden management fees. Insurance is not for investment, they are for protection for your family. Do not let the insurance agent fool you because all they want is to close the sale and earn a commission. As such insurance does not have good cash value returns.

In retrospect, the year that was, despite all the troubles, I still managed to sail through it. Alive and kicking. Able to savor life daily grind while not suffering too much hardship or regret from the financial loss due to bad decisions and poor due diligence. It is all due to God’s grace. I may have less financial growth, but I was prudent to never put everything in one basket. Though my working years are getting less, I need to be careful where I keep my funds for the future.

Meanwhile, the next generation is growing up quite fine. Still there are many aspects to improve upon. I could see he is slowly warming up to new experiences. Though it may be slow, I am sure with God’s grace it can be overcomed. All the best my boy!

So, it is back to the grind!

Cheers!

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darklingichor · 6 months

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The Long Winter; Little Town on the Prairie, by Laura Ingllas Wilder

The Long Winter tells of a historic winter with cold, storms and blizzards that ran from October 1880 to April of 1881. The weather stopped the trains, leaving the territory cut off from supplies. Everyone must exist on fewer and fewer resources and deal with the uncertainty, the relentless cold and the boredom that comes from having to find something to do other than worry.

It's no wonder that reading of these books had an uptick during the pandemic. The Ingalls deal with it all with as much cheerfulness that they could muster. Of course it's not all cheery. Pa begins taking less and less food so as to ensure his family gets the most of what they have. When Laura realizes this, she too starts eating less. It is in this context that we get the most interesting scene, with a rare perspective shift. We see things from Almanzo Wilder's viewpoint a few times in this book, but I feel like this is the first time we see Charles through someone's eyes, other than Laura's.

Charles, faced with his family's dwindling food supplies, decides to do something.

You know that Charles is an intelligent, if impulsive man, at this point, but you see just how shrewd and observant he is in this scene.

Charles walks in to Royal's feed store, where the two men are staying. He asks for wheat, the Wilders tell him that they don't have any. Charles simply walks up to a wall, takes a plug that had been placed in a hole, and catches wheat in a bucket. He then informs them that he will be taking this wheat.

This hidden stash is Almanzo's seed wheat, and he had built a false wall so as to hide it from anyone who would try to buy it or take it. Almanzo is amazed, how did he know it was there?

Charles tells him that on his last trip into their place, he noticed that the dimensions on the outside of the building did not match the room inside, and he knew there had to be something that could pour out because of that plug.

The Wilders tell him to take the wheat, and to come back if he needed more.

Soon there is a rumor that someone far from the town had a big supply of wheat, enough to hopefully keep everyone from starving until they can get the trains moving again.

Almanzo and one of Laura's schoolmates Capp Garland go out, find the guy, buy his wheat and save the town. Eventually things start to thaw out and the trains start running and things slowly get back to normal.

I listened to most of the podcast Wilder before I read Pioneer Girl and the series. I have to remember that one of the hosts and a lot of the people they talked to read the books as kids.

I say this because a lot of people said that The Long Winter was upsetting, and the darkest of the books. I disagree.

Don't get me wrong, it's not cheerful by any stretch of the imagination, and yes, somethings happen that would not sit well with kids. But for me there was something about By the Shores of Silver Lake that felt darker than this one, I can't really put my finger on why.

Maybe it’s because this book signaled the end of Laura’s childhood, between Jack the dog passing away, and the expectation of marriage looming on the horizon, maybe it was Caroline being a coiled spring – Silver Lake feels like a desperate grasp to stay carefree, almost dream like… I found it unsettling for some reason.

Long Winter on the other hand, despite the danger, just shows the Ingalls capacity for resourcefulness and positivity in the face of hardship.

We do see Charles from the outside - and while others have found him hard to take, especially when he sits and eats pancakes with the Wilders, while food supplies are dwindling at his house. This didn’t bother me, and I’ll tell you why.

First, it wasn’t as if he was gorging himself while his family starved. He was not eating much to save as much as possible for Caroline and the girls. Second, like everyone else, he was doing a lot of work just to keep everyone well, and it was wearing on him. The Wilders noticed how sunken and thin he appeared. Third, the rules of hospitality dictate that when someone offers you food, you should accept, and Charles had just come in and taken wheat, and the Wilders had let him. I don’t think his upbringing would allow him to just say: “Later” and leave. Fourth, it wasn’t as if Caroline and the girls had so little that staying a little while, making nice with the men who just helped you would be a big deal. Fifth, there is no indication that this actually happened and was likely just a scene Laura put in so she could describe some good food. Either to accentuate stress of the food shortage, or because she was doing a call back to the lavish descriptions of food in Farmer Boy, or because she just liked describing food, and the food at the Ingalls place was getting monotonous.

In Pioneer Girl we find out that the winter of 1880-1881 was hard for other reasons, not entirely related to the weather. It turns out that the Ingalls hosted George Masters, his wife Maggie and their baby during this time. To give you an idea of the Masters’ way of thinking: Geniveve Masters was one of three girls who inspired the character of Nellie Oleson.

While the rest of the family worked, grinding wheat in the small coffee grinder and twisting hay to take the place of the long ago used firewood, the Masters, especially George, did nothing.

This mooching behavior made Laura angry, but instead of venting it in her fiction, she chose to simply not include their irritating house guests.

Little Town on the Prairie

This one reminded me of a season of a teen sitcom. Overall, we get a year in the life of Laura as a teenager. Going to school, getting caught up in trends, taking notice of, and getting noticed by boys.

The book is a fun read, and is also really interesting beyond the fact that it seems like teenagers have been the same for a long time.

One of the first things that happens is that Charles asks Laura how she would like to work in town. Everyone is shocked and Caroline asks if Charles is thinking of letting Laura work in the De Smet hotel. Pa says of course not, no daughter of his will work in a hotel.

This is, of course, Laura writing what she wanted to have happened, and probably what Charles would have wanted to happen.

We know from Pioneer Girl that both Mary and Laura worked in the Burr Oak hotel when Laura was nine.

It turns out that the job is helping sew shirts for all the men traveling out to the territory for work without wives or family.

Laura eagerly accepts, thinking that this will provide money for Mary’s college fund. Laura is a good seamstress, despite not really liking to sew. This is in parallel to when she gets her teaching certificate and isn’t a bad teacher, but doesn’t like the job.

Mary is able to go to college thanks to the family saving money for transportation and to make her clothes. Everyone is very lonely after she leaves, adjusting to her absence.

One thing that was interesting was Mary and Laura's conversation on Mary's serenity - I admit I can't remember if this happened in Little Town or Long Winter. One of the drawbacks of reading a series all at once is that things start to blend into one big story.

Anyway.

We are told that Mary never cried over the loss of her sight. The girls talk about how calm and happy Mary is in the face of all she went through. Laura tells Mary that she had always been good. And Mary admits that there were many times that she was showing off being as good and dutiful as she was. But now she is truly happy because after her blindness, she gave everything up to God.

All of the evidence points to Mary being devout in her faith, but I wonder if a conversation like this actually happened between the two.

The part I liked best was when, after Eliza Jane Wilder, Almanzo’s sister takes the towns teaching position and almost instantly develops a dislike to Laura because Nellie Oleson tells her that Laura thinks she runs the school because Charles is on the school board. EJ makes the mistake of going after Carrie.

First by punishing her by making her rewrite words on the blackboard. Carrie, we have been told, is frail. The humiliation of the punishment has so upset her that Carrie almost faints while writing the words.

Laura manages to call EJ’s attention to this before it happens and is made to take on Carrie’s punishment.

And then

Carrie and her seatmate are unconsciously rocking their desk while they are studying, just normal kid fidgeting. Eliza Jane, annoyed by the noise, tells the girls to put their books away and just sit there and rock the two person desk until she says they can stop. Carrie’s seatmate bails, and that leaves Carrie to rock the desk on her own. EJ is relentless and keeps telling Carrie to rock the desk, even though Carrie is starting to wain. Laura jumps up and says that if Carrie’s rocking is not suiting Eliza Jane, let her do it. In one of the funniest duel of wills I have ever read, Laura tells Carrie to just rest, and proceeds to rock the desk, hard, never breaking eye contact with EJ until she angrily tells the Ingalls girls to go home.

Don’t mess with Laura’s little sister!

Although I enjoyed the book, I sort of feel like there isn’t a lot to write about. We simply have the fun of following Laura through pretty happy times and the start of Almanzo’s interest in her.

Both books are well worth the read, but The Long Winter has a bit more meat to it.

#Book #books #book blogging 2023 #The Long Winter #Little Town on the Prairie #Laura Ingllas Wilder

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reveries-and-radiance · 11 months

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Physical abuse TW

No one to talk to about this. So I'm just gonna tell my whole life story here before I decide to do anything drastic.

I grew up with an emotionally and physically abusive mother who financially depended on me in the last few years of my highschool life. I studied hard and got accepted at the only out of district school they'd let me leave to so I could be away from her. I lived with my grandmother and studied while working 2 part time jobs and volunteering up until the pandemic happened. At this point, my mother had come to my grandmother's house and had been living there with us since the winter. By mid-August, I was completely back in a traumatic and controlling environment filled with rage and violence, as my grandmother and mother did not get along. We all fought a lot daily. At this point, I was still volunteering and was helping doing covid related work for my volunteer organization. I started looking for work to get me out of the house and was lucky to find a well paying job. Coupled with my funds I'd gotten from being laid off, I figured I had enough resources to leave after a particularly violent altercation with my mother about me volunteering too late one night (at this point I was 20 years old)

I got all of my things together to leave the following day to stay with my friend and my mother and grandmother assaulted me. I was beaten with a wooden rod, a metal canister and slammed onto the ground and sat on. They even put their arms over my nose and mouth so that I couldn't scream for my friends outside. It was one of the most terrifying moments I've experienced in recent years.

I got out and the following day filed a restraining order and got the rest of my things. Those first few weeks were incredibly difficult. I had a friend who said that he'd move away with me to help with rent costs as he wanted to leave his home too, but he changed his mind.

I found a place to live, moved and worked for a few months until I experienced sexual harrassment and discrimination at my job and then my contract was not renewed. After losing that job, I burned through all my savings, tried to work at other places I wasn't suited for and then eventually got another temporary position. After that job ended, I was completely drained and in a very depressed state as my friends all moved on to do other things with their lives. I was isolated, broke and vulnerable. I couldn't even afford to continue studying so I just stopped taking classes. I lived off of unemployment for almost a year during this time while waiting for my lease to end so I could move away with a friend I reconnected with. When the unemployment was almost up, I got a summer job and worked to save up money for the move. The friend who said they'd move away with me changed their mind and bought themselves an in development condo so that they could become a landlord and rent it out. I was devastated and the plans I'd made fell apart again. By then my current lease was up but I couldn't afford to move into a new place on my own so I decided to rent a room. When I finally found a seemingly decent place in a nice neighbourhood, I thought that everything would be okay.

The landlord at that house was an awful person to me. The house and my room became infested with gnats due to her plants. She brought in other tenants so the house was full of men and I was the only girl. I wasn't even given a key to the door of my room. She used to listen to when I would go into the washroom and timed how long my showers were. The fridge I was allowed to use was a mini-fridge that I had to share between two other people. My food would always go bad and I lost a lot of meals and just eventually stopped eating. I lost a lot of weight over those months. While that was happening, I got a job but was then let go two weeks into my training because they thought my performance was inadequate. I then found another job but I wasn't trained there at all and got berated by clients for my mistakes. By Christmas, I had no money, food and I needed to leave as soon as possible for my safety and health. I broke my lease and moved but they lied about the room needing to be "deep-cleaned" and took my safety deposit. I was able to find another place but have had no luck in getting a job so I've been trying to make money off of art commissions. Every month has been a struggle. I can't move back in with my family, I don't have anywhere else I can go. I have tried over and over again but nothing is working. I own nothing, I have no one and I honestly don't even want to live anymore. Just years and years of misery. I feel like I was pushed to making so many decisions that I thought would help but kept making things worse and worse. I feel like I have no future.

Now, at 22 (23 next month if I make it till then), there is little opportunity for me to do anything anymore. I can't afford to go back to school, I can't find a stable job, I have no assets, no in-demand skills. I live with debilitating mental and physical conditions but can't even get the support I need to survive. I feel like I am a week away from homelessness. The only thing I can do is draw and sing but no one wants that from me. I'm mediocre at best and I'm a nobody. All this to say, I don't want anyone to be angry with me if I decide that I can't do this anymore. I tried to live with the circumstances I was given, but everything's fucked now and I'm tired. I'm tired of going hungry and being alone. I didn't deserve any of this. I didn't do anything to anyone to live this kind of pathetic life. I just wanted to draw comic books and make art. This is everything that's happened to me in the last 5 years. I am at the darkest point in my life and there's no one who wants to help me. I feel like such a waste.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for cutting off a friend over an inappropriately timed confession?

tl;dr at end. it’s been a while since this went down, but i’m still feeling uncertain about it all.

i (18m) hosted a birthday party a few months ago. the guest list was small since the activity i chose was pricey. among the guests was a guy we’ll call carson(17m, same grade). i honestly was already drifting away from him before this incident, and sort of regretted inviting him, but i’d already told him about it and had just known him for so long, it felt mean not to. the day’s plan was to grab lunch at my favorite restaurant, drive everyone to the activity, do that, drive everyone back to my house for cake, and then send everyone home. at lunch, people handed me gifts. carson hands me the actual gift and a card with a printed sheet of paper tucked inside. the card’s paragraph text was normal enough, but then i open the paper inside, and it’s a goddamn love poem. like, “i’m scared of how you’ll react if i give you a valentine” levels here. i am not into poetry even a little. i’m obviously uncomfortable because i barely like him as a friend, but i thank him and move on.

for some background, carson and i dated in name only for about five or six days during the pandemic. we didn’t actually do anything, i think i was just bored and lonely. i am attracted to men, just not him. i am also autistic, and he’s suspected to be. he also has a pretty shit home life(he’s recently pivoted to “actually my home life is great!” but none of us really buy that. i won’t go into it though, it’s not really relevant nor my business), and that might affect how he views relationships, since his parents had a pretty nasty divorce when he was young.

after cake, everyone left except carson. he then says something like “do you remember when we dated sophmore year?” he gives this stuttering, rambling buildup that ends in him asking if i’d like to go out with him. i tell him no, and he apologizes for if he made me uncomfortable. i lie and tell him he didn’t. i was actually extremely uncomfortable because as the host i couldn’t leave! i really felt cornered. after more awkwardness i ask when his ride will get here, and he says his mom is already here, he just “needed to get it off his chest.”

a little more context, i had some pretty shit birthday parties in the past, and only started having them again last year after being tired of them going badly. they’re still an incredibly sensitive time for me. i’ve told him this, although he claimed to not remember(i’m not sure whether him lying or forgetting would piss me off more.)

two months or so go by, and he still hasn’t apologized. i realize that i’m not going to get over this like i hoped i would, so i confront him, asking him why he would do that. he basically tells me that he didn’t think about it, and is sorry i got upset.

here’s where i might be the asshole. i was giving him the cold shoulder before, but after his apology, i completely cut him off. i refuse to even acknowledge his presence when he’s around with my other friends. i know he apologized, but i’m just still so mad at him, and it felt like such a non-apology that he only gave because i asked him to. my friends who have other personal grievances against him think i’m in the right to cut him off, but my family says i’m being too hard on him, and that he was just trying to shoot his shot and mistimed it. i’m definitely not going to make up with him because even thinking about him pisses me off. but i feel like such a dick for doing this, and i’m still thinking about it months later. am i the asshole here?

tl;dr, friend asks me out at my birthday party when birthdays are a sensitive subject for me, i cut him off after thinking his apology isn’t good enough

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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isat32196 · 1 year

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My Cat Died

A horribly sad post to make , but I feel the need to vent and feel like social media is a great place to just yell into the void. Going to go into this a bit more, **so if you don't want to read about a pets death now is your chance to turn away.** But this is my story with Thor, start to finish. ---

How I came to know Thor

I originally adopted Thor from a local shelter. They guessed he was about 4 years old. I had been trying to adopt a cat for a while at this point, largely to help with my mental health. I had to give up a cat a couple of months prior (Named Simon), due to Simon and my roommates cats constantly fighting. Simon was too rambunctious to leave alone in any one room, and both he and my roommates cats would initiate fights with each other. Before Simon, I had tried other cats that just weren't good fits. So, going in to meet Thor, I didn't have my hopes up. I thought to myself "Well, I'll go in and check out this 'Thor', but I'll probably leave with another cat'". This was during the pandemic where you really needed an appointment before seeing any animal. But, upon meeting Thor, I realized he seemed like the perfect cat for me. A little on the chunky side, and I eventually found out he loved just lounging around. He would play sure, but his favorite things were just hanging out. He didn't get into any wires, and he liked being around people.

Where I originally lived, with a roommate who had three cats of her own, I could leave Thor in my room and he was fine. He honestly preferred being the only animal, and just wanted to lay about. We tried to introduce my roommates cat and him to each other, but he usually had no interest. Eventually, I finished up college about 5 or 6 months after getting Thor. I got a full time job in a neighboring state, and so off we went to our next adventure.

Vermont

It was adorable how quickly Thor picked up my habits, and learned my routines. He knew that when I came home, I'd go to the bedroom, take off my work clothes, come out to the living room and lay down. As soon as I walked through the door, Thor would follow me to the bedroom, get up on the bed so I could pet him, and then he'd follow me to the living room so he'd get to lay on my chest. Most days we ended up taking a nap together for a couple of hours.

Shortly after moving to Vermont, me and my fiance broke up. This was understandably very hard on me, but Thor was at least there to fall asleep on my chest, and make me feel better. It also gave me someone else to care for, which helped motivated me on the days where I didn't have much.

Michelle

Eventually, I met someone else and we started to date. She had never been around cats before, and had a hard time understanding them, but Thor would try to hang out with her still. After dating for a couple of months, we decided to move in together. This would help us save money, and I was at her house practically every day anyways. This presented a bit of a problem though. She had a dog. And while her dog (Cooper) had been around cats before, and was fine around them, we were uncertain of Thor's history with dogs. We kept them separated at first, and eventually had them meet and exist around each other. Thor was... not a fan... however, he quickly asserted himself as the alpha (surprising everyone), and Thor slowly learned to tolerate Cooper.

Thor's Final Days

Everything was going pretty well. The pets were getting along, and everything seemed fine. But, one morning, I noticed Thor didn't immediately come to eat his food. He usually was either waking me up or immediately following me as soon as I got out of bed in the morning to eat. But he wasn't there this time. This was weird, but had happened before so I thought maybe he was just preoccupied with something. As the morning went on, I saw that Thor was licking his groin area a lot, as well as not fully sitting down anywhere. Sort of in the position of sitting, but his butt was hovering off of the ground. I also noticed some spots near his litter box (I assumed pee), so thought maybe I just hadn't cleaned the litterbox well enough and he had to go to the bathroom. I cleaned it and went to work. I came home that night and Thor was still leaking pee, and hadn't touched his food. I called the local vet, and they said they didn't feel he had to come in immediately, but made an appointment for the next day. The next day, Thor still wasn't really eating or using the bathroom. We kept his litterbox within a bigger dog crate, so that our dog couldn't get to his litter box. Thor was now staying inside that cage with food and water as we couldn't have him leaking pee everywhere. He largely chose to stay in his (clean) litterbox. When I came home from work, he hadn't moved much and still hadn't eaten. I brought him into the vet, and their initial assessment was that he had a blockage of some sort. Sometimes we can get lucky and it'll fix itself with some meds. We took him home that night with some meds to give him, and was told if he doesn't go pee that night, to bring him back the following day. One cute story from this day, is when in the exam room with the vet, they let Thor out of his cage and his immediate reaction was to come cuddle with me. The next morning, he still hadn't gone to the bathroom, and still wasn't eating. We brought him back in with the vets, and they went into more detail about what was wrong. He had a stone (I assume Kidney stone, but they kept referencing it as a stone). He also had a build up of pee. The plan was they'd put a catheter in him to relieve the pee, and then try and figure out what to do about the blockage. I was also informed that this was going to be a lifelong illness for him. Once male cats block, it's only a matter of time before they block again. He was only about 6 years old. With this knowledge, I headed to work and Thor stayed at the vet for the day. They were able to get the catheter in him, but he had tried to pass the kidney stone the night before. It was now stuck in his urethra. They could try to push it back into his bladder, but they doubted that would work, as they did something similar when putting the catheter in. Even if they managed to do that, they'd then have to operate on his bladder to remove the stone. The only other option would be to operate on the urethra itself, which posed many risks given how small of a tube it is. Going into work I had many thoughts. How will I be able to afford a chronically ill cat? Is this worth it for Thor? Every time this happens to him, even if I can afford it, it's extremely painful and then traumatic to go to the vet. Am I going to have to put him down? One major cause of blockage is stress, and Thor did not like being around really any other animals. So if I can't provide him the best life (between money and living situation), will I have to give him up? I reached out to a local humane society, to speak to them about what the process of surrendering an animal would be. I explained the whole situation, and they said they more than likely would not take him. With this reoccurring issue causing so much pain for the cat, and so much financial stress for the owners, they'd be hard pressed to find someone willing to adopt a cat like that. And, on top of that, a shelter would stress him out more given he's around a bunch of other animals. Upon arriving at the vets after work, and talking with the vet again, I ended up deciding the best choice would be to put Thor down. I could not provide him a stress free life, and I did not want him to suffer constantly. I didn't want to live with the fact of "My cat might have this happen again randomly and die", and just be waiting for the end. And, as horrible as it feels, I didn't want to go into financial ruin to make him continually go through surgeries. The two days he had already spent in the hospital was going to take me months to repay, and god forbid he blocked again before I paid off the first amount, it would be a recipe for disaster. And, for Thor, I'd be able to be there as he goes, rather than around strangers or another family. We got to hang out with Thor for a bit before we put him down. His immediate reaction when we let him out of the cage was to snuggle up with my coat I had taken off.

He was the best cat I could've ever hoped for. It feels so unfair this happened to him so young. The worst part of it, to me, is of course he had no clue what was happening to him. His last days were him feeling like he couldn't pee, and then a lot of people poking and prodding him. He seemed completely healthy, and got so bad in only about three days. It's.. hard going about normal routines without him there. I know one day it won't feel so bad, but for now it's horrible. I'm glad I was able to be there in his final moments. Thank you, if you made it this far. It's not a great story, but I wanted to get it out somewhere. Here's a photo album with more photos of Thor, if you're interested.

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timjohns3rd · 2 years

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Sigh..

I wish it was easy to stop loving...to walk away...its not. Everyone...Shannon, Tessa, etc... was easy compared to this... I know you are trying to set boundaries.. but the hug was nice. I dont get how some people can turn it off so easily.. I know you want me to move my appts to my own calendar...but still keep access to the other since Im still going to be helping with the girls... I felt good with you saying that... I still feel horrible... I am truly sorry I didnt do better for you...and pushed you away in the process.. Story of my life..ruining a holiday with ants so to speak...I never wanted to be considered a free loader... with everything tho with the pandemic, uber eats...etc... and my background... made it so difficult... and hate myself in the process.. I dont blame you or want to guilt you... everything I have improved in my life with myself is because of you. I love you, I love the girls, and I love the furbabies.. you gave me all of those in my life.. I feel I accomplished my main goal in my life.. Now the other side of things... part of the reason for leaving the business is because of you...NOT in a negative way...but you deserve all of them around too...all the friends/fam you made and I dont want you to feel awkward around shows or anything...while on the other side... I dont want constantly be asked..what happened..etc..and its been 25 years...its a good time to walk away... never feel bad... ive been pushing myself for awhile as it is to get thru everything as it is...the drive wasnt there as much as it should have been...but I was doing it for you guys as well... as you all enjoyed it too As for what I am going to do after I have you paid back, and its to the point you want me to start the move out... Im not sure .... I know friends would offer me to stay with them... but I want to do this alone.. even if it means staying in my car til I built up enough...or finding a studio apartment and sleeping on the floor.. even if I do just stay in my car... Im not saying this for you to feel bad or anything (and dont expect it)... Its my choice I do willingly...as I said to do it on my own or die trying... I have to work hard not to fail. I can shower at truck stops..etc... If Im unable to take my stuff with me...or ever get it for awhile...I expect you to do what you need to with it..even if it means pitching, or selling it to get it out of the house... I can always rebuild again... been there before with that... but ultimately you are not my storage place..which I truly understand that Also...even if I got a place... I wouldnt take either of the furbabies... as one...I promised myself I would never...and have you guys go thru that again like others did... and Im afraid I couldnt give them what they need either... they have a loving home...and I have no right to take them from it... Why do I write these knowing you wont see them. Just to help myself... while Id rather talk to you directly about this...I dont want you to think I am trying to guilt or anything... I accept my fate and what needs to be done...I truly do... with no hate in my heart..just remorse for everything I did wrong... and I dont plan to find anyone else..NOT with the hopes of getting back together...but protecting myself again...Ive made it to the top... I have nothing more to prove myself except surviving.. which I did before...

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raeathnos · 3 years

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#I feel like I’m just stuck in limbo- waiting waiting waiting #nothing is going to change until we move but that’s still at least a year away #I have a list of things to do but I’m struggling #it’s stressful constantly being treated like a five year old and yelled at and manipulated and blamed for everything #I’m so so tired and I’m stuck #progress is slow and I feel like I can’t change anything for the better #so I wait and I hope and I dream #things will be better soon I tell myself over and over and over #I feel like I’m going to just shatter into a million pieces from the stress of it all #the pandemic is hard too- before I would just leave the house to get away but now I can’t because there’s nowhere to go #we’re terrible and still do it on saturdays #say we’re just going for coffee- but then neither of us wants to go back to this hell #so we’re bad and go shopping or for a drive #anything to not be back here #anything to stop the yelling and feeling like I’m never going to be enough #I feel like I’m drowning here- I wasn’t what they wanted I’m just a burden Im not good enough #that post about lady bird going around hits such a chord #because that’s how we are too- they like the idea of me but not who I am #and it goes deeper because I’ve been told they regretted having me #I think it hurts more because I always fucking suspected it but I loved them so much still because that’s what a kid is supposed to do #and it still wasn’t enough #they had me and instantly regretted it #I suspected it my whole childhood and pushed it aside because I loved them and I thought if I love them then they must love me too #and then a few years ago just in passing conversion so casually so nonchalantly #oh hey yeah we regretted having you #my world had already shattered from earlier abuse as a teenager #but that broke me anew #and I feel like I never fully recovered from that one #maybe it just kidding myself and never really fully recovered from any of it #whatever this is it hurts and it’s lonely

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writingchalamet · 2 years

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I’m happy for you … 2

Hey guyyyss! It’s been nearly 2 years since I have posted anything, I’m so sorry firstly I would like to say I hope everyone has been managing okay through this pandemic, I have been working throughout the whole thing so have had no time to do anything, but I now have 3 months off due to an illness so I’m hoping that means more time for writing, while I’m back I want everyone to know that this is still an open space for ideas and if anyone needs to talk please feel free to message me! Lots of love! Oh and by the way I am completely winging this one shot I’m making it up as I go along so let’s hope it turns out ok!

It had been seven months since Timothée had left the apartment. The first month you spent mostly sobbing into his pillow at night, trying to encase your self in whatever scent was reminiscent on it. You would find things around the house of his that he had left behind, like his watch and an old jumper that he would always moan at you for stealing, lying crumpled up at the bottom of the wardrobe. He had left his razor and shaving foam in the bathroom cabinet and you hadn’t the heart to throw them away. All things that were replaceable for him but for you they held a certain sentiment.

You used to love sitting on the edge of the bath brushing your teeth as he shaved trying to hold a conversation while your mouth foamed up, which often lead to the pair of you in fits of laughter. So you held onto the razor for safe keeping. Another month past and your friends suggest it’s time for you to get out of the house, other than for work, though you had admittedly found it immensely hard to leave even for that, for walking the streets of New York gave you a new found fear of bumping into him and…her.

You had seen them on his social media before removing yourself from the sites, they seemed happy and in love and it killed you, to think that the person you were in love with was in love with someone else, and you don’t know how long for. Your tipping edge with social media was a lovely picture of the pair sharing a kiss for her birthday post, which was close to yours. It felt like a knife had been plunged through your chest. On one side you were happy to see him so full of life, something he had been missing the last few moths of your relationship but the other half just wished things could have worked out. You hated the fear of opening your phone to find another picture of them, but at the same time hated the idea of blocking him out of your life, hence your social media blackout.

More months past and eventually things started to feel normal again, you’d plucked up the courage to take down the photos of him surrounding the walls of the apartment and get rid of the rest of his belongings. You’d even decided to redecorate the apartment to make it feel more you, and less him. Strolling down the aisles of a hardware store with your friend Oscar you look through what seems to be a thousand shades of green before landing on the perfect one.

“Now y/n are you sure you don’t like breakfast room green?” Oscar gives you stern but playful look, you can tell he is getting tired of looking at paint cans but you are just glad to have some company. “No, I definitely think it’s forest green for me thanks” you smirk and take the paint can from his hands and place it back on the shelf. “What else is on the list?” Oscar asks hesitantly, you’d already been shopping for an hour and we’re too ready to get back home. “Nothing, this was the last thing so let’s go”

You had found tranquillity in your new environment and in being alone, but still didn’t have the confidence of going out, admittedly there were times you forgot Timothée existed, your friends refused to bring him up and you never went on your phone anymore to see anyone mention him. But seven moths down the line you still haven’t let loose and lived your life since he’s been gone.

“C’mon y/n you have to come, it’s Christmas Eve, you can’t sit in alone all night, especially when you’re not seeing your family tomorrow, for one night just please c’mon!” Your closest friend Erica pleaded to you over the phone, there was a Christmas party happening in the east village and for weeks now you had been putting off the invite, always coming up with some excuse or the other but she knew you better than anyone and she knew the only reason you didn’t want to go was because of Timothée. “Y/n, I’m gonna keep begging until you say yes, please please please please please plea-“ “okay fine I’ll go, just please shut up, and if we bump into him, I’m leaving okay!” You protested eyes scrunching, you held your phone away from your head as you heard Erica screech from the other end of the line. “Yes, okay deal, but he won’t be there, in all of New York I can guarantee there will be at least a hundred parties going on tonight so don’t worry yourself, just put on something sparkly and I’ll see you in an hour!”

An hour passes and sure enough there is a short buzz from the intercom to your apartment, you walk over to the door picking up the phone checking it’s Erica, “hello?” You quiz, “yeah it’s me genius you expecting anyone else, now let me up it’s snowing and I’m freezing!” She snaps you laugh and buzz her in. Shortly after you hear her heals clicking up the stairs in the hallway, you left the door on the latch for her to walk straight in. You eyeball her appearance and your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Seriously Erica, a slip dress and a leather jacket? You’re gonna get hyperthermia where’s your coat?!” You practically shout , waltzing towards her, “what are you my mother! Now put on a red lip and let’s go!” You roll your eyes but do as she says to save yourself an argument. You put on your coat hat gloves and scarf and make your way back out the bedroom. “Jesus Christ you’re supposed to look like angel Gabriel not the Virgin Mary, why have you covered up so much!” “Because it’s winter Erica. And in case you didn’t know, you can take off clothes but you can’t recover from pneumonia when you’re dead, so I suggest you wrap up and shut up because we’re gonna be late.” Her mouth drops in shock but soon closes in the realisation that this is the first time she has seen the ‘real’ you in months, she borrows a coat and you both head out the door.

The party is already in full swing by the time you both arrive. You soon find the rest of your friends and you have to admit you have missed going out and socialising and just feeling normal again. You dance abs drink and have a good time feeling all the festivities. You admire the Christmas lights that gleam around the room and the open fire and stop for a second and think about tomorrow, how this will be your first Christmas not spent in the chalamet household, with his mums cooking, and watching him and his sister joke and feeling part of a family. It all gets too much just for one split second. You breathe “I’m just gonna go and get some air” you smile at your friends so they don’t let on that you’re not okay. They have spent too long missing out on things because of you, you don’t want them to lose another night.

You weave through the crowds of people everyone and then muttering a ‘sorry’ as you bump into someone. You finally see the patio doors insight and walk just a little bit faster, not looking at all where you’re going when you crash into someone with their hands full with at least four drinks in their hands. The cold liquid spills all down your front and you gasp at the icey liquid touching your skin. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going I-“ you would recognise that voice from anywhere, it was him.

Though as soon as his eyes met yours they dropped, as though he felt guilty about something, but what did he have to feel guilty about? You stood there for a moment like a deer in the headlights just staring at him before you bolted in the opposite direction, headed for the front door. “Y/n! Y/n come back, shit” you distantly heard your name being called but you didn’t care, you don’t know why you ran but you just knew you weren’t ready for whatever was about to happen. You reach the front door and run out into the snow, quickly realising what a terrible idea it truly was having forgotten your coat inside, luckily you still had your bag, so it would only be a short walk to a main road to hail a cab. You shivered as the freezing air pinched your skin like daggers. You silently thanked yourself for wearing boots instead of the stiletto option you were going to go for, though still tricky to walk as the heels of your boots have you little to no grip on the snow. “Y/n… y/n please wait!” You heard behind you and the front door slamming, though you had gotten quite far down this ridiculously long drive way you could still make out his figure bundling towards you. “Go away Timothée!” You yelled back towards him careful not to slip as your twist yourself back to face him. “Y/n you’re gonna freeze out here, please just come back inside” you hear him speeding up and soon after a thud followed by a grunt, you turn yourself to see him lying on his back in the snow. “Are you alright?” You yell, you don’t wait for a spoken response his nod and his sitting up is enough for you, he has gained enough distance now to be in reach of you, so you decide to turn around again and make your way to the road. You stand there for a few moments waiting for a cab to drive past before bailing one down.

When one pulls up you slide yourself in the backseat, and miss Timothée’s slick manoeuvre into the other passenger side next to you. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing!” You whisper shout at the boy beside you. “Making sure you get home okay, you still live at the apartment?” You give up protesting and nod facing the front. Timothée tells the driver the address and you sit in silent the rest of the journey. You arrive at the apartment and Timothée follows you up to the flat, you open the door and he steps inside for the first time since his departure. He takes in a deep breath and looks around the place a lot has changed since he had left, the place looked more girly, more to your taste, but In Timothée’s mind it still felt like home. He walked around the front room stopping at the picture frames that used to hold his images, he stopped and started at them and frowned for a moment, for his spot had been taken by your friends and family, and pictures of cats, you had always loved cats and the pair of you had always spoken about getting one some day.

“I like what you’ve done with the place” you let out a breath and nod your head. Your heals clicking against the hardwood floor as you shuffle your feet. “What are you doing here Timmy?” “Timmy, been a long time since you called me that” you interrupt him “you didn’t answer my question”. He sighs and looks you dead in the eye. “Amy and I broke up, a while ago actually, I wanted to call you, text you, I even stood outside the building a few times waiting to see if you’d come outside, I never saw you though. I figured you’d moved on, moved out of the apartment.”

“No I never left. In fact tonight was my first actual time out of the house since we broke up, so while you’ve been out having a good time enjoying your life. I’ve been here miserable, everyday. So I ask you again, what are you doing here?” A tear slipped from your eye as you realised he had only come he to gloat.

“I’m still in love with you y/n, that’s what I’m doing here.” He launched himself towards you his hands wrapping themselves around your arms but you protested, Shoving him away from you, you trod around to the other side of the sofa creating some space between you much like he did all those months before. “No, Timothée you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to come into my home after all these months when I’m finally getting back to normal again and turn things upside down because that’s not fair! I waited for you for months, I kept your things, I kept your photos up for fuck sake I didn’t even wash the bed sheets because I didn’t want to wash away anything that had been touched by you. And you never showed up” you break into a fit of sobs finding it hard to breath being around him after so much time. He stumbles towards you naturally in his mind to comfort you, you try and push him away but he only pulls you closer.

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I don’t know why I did what I did, but all I can do know is tell you I love you, shh please calm down” he strokes the hair away from your face occasionally kissing the side of your head, he keeps cradling you out of fear you’ll slip away like he did all those months ago. You gain your steady breath back and scramble your way out of his lap, the large sequins on your dress shaking and knocking together as you stand, you wipe the tears from your face and head towards the kitchen for a glass of water, once you’ve contained yourself you stare at the boy in front of you. He looks disheveled and out of sorts but all you know is you still love him.

“I love you too, Timothée” his head raises in hope and he takes a step closer, your hand reaches out to stop him before he can get any closer to you. “But you broke my heart, and I don’t think I can trust you not to break it again” your eyes fill with tears again and you feel your heart sink in your chest even more than it did the last time. “I think you need to go, Timmy” he nods his head eyes not leaving the floor. He reaches door as he makes his way out he turns to you once more “y/n, if you have truly moved on with your life, I’m happy for you” and then the door is closed.

#timothee fanfic #fanfiction #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee #timothée imagines #timothée angst #angst #Timothée chalamet angst #timothee imagines

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

//////////////////////////////////

“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1

#tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tomholland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #harry holland

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misscarolineshelby · 3 years

Text

Roommates – Part Sixteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words:1,876

Warning: Fluff, Smut

Note: This plays in 2020. It’s all fiction and not based on Cillian’s real life and family.

A week had passed since you told Cillian that you loved him and, whilst you were strongly under the influence of pain medication, you remembered it.

You had, in fact, developed strong feelings for him and whilst the words left your lips accidentally when you were drowsy and half asleep, you were somewhat disappointed by the fact that he didn’t say anything.

Of course, he didn’t share the same feelings for you, you knew that much. You’ve been friends for so many years that you could hardly be surprised that he liked you as a friend and for sex, but nothing else. But, what you had expected was that he would say something, anything at all, even if it was simply confirming what you already knew.

***

You did tell your sister about it and, whilst you were surprised by the feelings you had so suddenly developed for your long-time friend, she wasn’t surprised at all.

She saw it coming as soon as she found out that you were sleeping with each other and she believed that you always had some sort of feelings for him.

In the same vein, she was sure that he felt the same about you and was probably reluctant to tell you and, with that in mind, you continued on as usual and acted as if nothing had happened.

You weren’t willing to give up your friendship and the amazing sex you have for maybes and thought that, if your sister was right, he would come around eventually, at least so you hoped.

***

Then, another week had passed and nothing had changed. At least so you thought.

Cillian asked you whether you wanted to travel to Cork with him to see his parents now that Ireland, once again, came out of lockdown and visits to family were permitted provided that you had a permit.

‘I don’t think I can Cillian. Only spouses’ you said, pointing to the pamphlet he had printed out from the Irish Covid Information website.

‘Well, we are living together, you can pretend to be my girlfriend if the police pulls us over’ he chuckled, before pleading with you.

‘You just want me to drive, don’t you’ you then said and he nodded. He hated driving long distances and it didn’t help that he had only gotten his drivers licence five years ago and failed his driving test three times when he moved back to Dublin.

‘I suppose it’s safer if I drive…so yes, I am coming’ you said somewhat amused.

‘Should I ask Ma to prepare two or one room for us?’ Cillian then asked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Your mother is strictly catholic and I suppose that the answer to your question depends on what you are willing to reveal to her about our little arrangement’ you joked and, of course, Cillian hadn’t even thought that far.

‘Two bedrooms’ he then confirmed before picking up the phone to let his mother know that you would be coming with him.

***

Three days later, you hit the road for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Cork after you both had received a negative COVID test result which you took as a precaution.

As usual, Cillian’s mother was excited about the visit and you were excited too. You hadn’t seen her for about 18 months and the last time you saw her she had cooked you and your fiancé a lovely a meal.

Things were different then and you talked about your wedding and all the plans you were having in the future.

There was no pandemic to worry about and you weren’t aware of your fiancé’s indiscretions at the time while Cillian was still happily dating your somewhat crazy friend.

Now, your engagement had ended but your friendship with Cillian had evolved into something else entirely.

***

After a smooth three-and-a-half-hour drive, you pulled up in front of Cillian’s parents’ house.

They both greeted you with excitement and told you to come in quickly as it was raining.

Cillian’s father quickly carried your small suitcase to one of the guestrooms while Cillian placed his into the other. There wasn’t much space in the house and, whilst the house had four bedrooms, the corridors were rather narrow and the living area was small.

‘It’s so good to see you Y/N’ Cillian’s mum said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘The last time you visited Cork was under better circumstances, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless’ she then said and you thanked her for her hospitality.

You had always gotten along well with Cillian’s mother and Cillian was simply happy to see his parents again after such a long time, even if it meant that his siblings couldn’t visit them at the same time as him due to the visitation limits imposed.

As you were sitting on the sofa with Cillian’s mother you soon noticed that Cillian was gone and so did his mother.

‘He better not be stealing food’ she then huffed out sternly and, sure enough, Cillian had found the freshly baked scones in the kitchen and couldn’t resist.

‘But they are so good Ma’ you heard him argue as his mum told him to get out of the kitchen and leave the scones alone, which made you laugh.

‘He will never change’ you chuckled and his mother nodded in agreement.

‘No, he won’t’ she then said before informing you that she had made a roast for dinner.

***

After dinner and a few glasses of wine with Cillian’s parents, they headed to bed at around 8.30pm as usual, leaving you and Cillian to watch TV in the living room.

You were quick to spread your legs out over Cillian’s laps, getting yourself more comfortable but being vary that his parents might walk in on you.

But, Cillian seemed to think that, once they went to bed, they would pretty much go to sleep right away and proceeded to pull you onto his lap.

‘I missed this today’ he said before he caressed your face and kissed you gently.

‘Me too’ you then giggled before returning the kiss rather quickly.

‘Do you want to go to my bedroom or yours?’ he then winked and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Your parents are in the house Cillian’ you then said and, just as you did, you heard some footsteps in the hallway behind you.

You quickly jumped off Cillian’s lap and sat on the lounge like a well-behaved schoolgirl as his mother walked by to get a glass of water while Cillian covered up his erection, poking against the denim of his jeans, with a cushion.

‘Night Ma’ he then said and she couldn’t help but laugh before saying ‘good night’ again.

‘I am not going to have sex at your parents house’ you then huffed out quietly when his mother had left.

‘Alright, let’s go for drive then’ he suggested.

‘A drive? And how will you explain this to your mother tomorrow?’ you laughed and Cillian suggested to tell her that you forgot some toiletries and he drove to the shop to get them.

‘Supermarket closes in 30 minutes, let’s go’ he said and you couldn’t really say no to him.

***

Ten minutes later you arrived at a secluded area near the beach and you could just tell that Cillian had been there before.

‘Is this where you used to take your girlfriends when you were at high school and snatched your parents’ combi even though you didn’t have a driver’s licence?’ you asked, having heard about these stories from his brother before.

‘Yeah, it’s a good spot, nice and quiet’ Cillian winked as he reclined his seat and you quickly stripped down to your bra and panties.

‘Oh my god Cillian I feel like an 18-year-old again, sneaking out of the house to make out’ you laughed and, just before you could protest, Cillian reached inside your panties and slowly stroked your mound.

‘Just that, this time, it will actually be worth your while’ Cillian smirked as he ran his forefinger between the crease of your pussy and noticed the moistness which had already built there.

‘Hmm yes, it will be Cillian’ you moaned as he was rubbing your clit with his left hand and with his right hand was caressing your breasts.

You were quick to release his hard cock from his jeans as well and began jerking him in time with his clitoral stimulation and the heat inside the car was palpable.

‘So naughty…what if we get caught?’ you huffed out, knowing that Cillian had a kink for semi-public sex.

‘It’s worth the risk’ he groaned and, before long, you were gazing up from the seat with that wanton look in your eyes, pulling Cillian closer and uttering cues while he fingered your pussy and mouthed your firm nipples with his welcoming mouth.

‘I need you inside me Cillian’ you moaned as you were welcoming two fingers into your waiting slit and could not be distracted, even by the crackling sounds outside and the sound of the radio.

‘Come on then’ Cillian groaned as you continued to stroke him and, just as he invited you to take what you needed so badly, you let go off his cock and climbed on top of him.

He pressed the head of his cock against your awaiting pussy and you slowly sank down on him.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned as his cock disappeared into your tight vagina, expanding your love tunnel while he met your lips with his. Your mouths parted and your tongues communicated the instant of union as Cillian’s cock drove slowly into your warm pussy. You were lost in their unity while your reality transformed around them.

‘You feel so fucking good’ Cillian groaned as you were moving in perfect motion with Cillian’s penetration and your thighs were even perforated with the moisture that was coming out of your pussy.

Your rocking continued and you were now joining orally with diatribes as Cillian’s cock bottomed out again and again inside you. ‘Fuck’ you uttered as his big balls pressed against your bottom.

Your warm tunnel was wide for his cock and your eyes were fixed on the mechanistic ramming of Cillian’s body in its hedonistic role.

‘I am cumming…fuck’ you moaned with the ever fastening in and out rhythms that Cillian was delivering to your womanhood. Cillian too was groaning and you put a hand underneath his balls while he pounded you and the car shook.

With your screams and loss of control inside erotic orgasm, Cillian too lost control and filled your cavity with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, Y/N, I love…’ Cillian began to say but, just as he did, there was a nock on the window of the car on the driver’s side next to Cillian, interrupting what he was about to say.

‘Please lower your window…’ a man said from outside and you could see some flashing lights behind where the car was parked.

Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian @queenyshelby

@severewobblerlightdragon @ysmmsy @midnightmystic

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader

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