I got a really interesting message and I want to address it since the surgery I was supposed to be in got cancelled...typical.
I won't be screenshotting the message or outing this individual because they were asking a genuine question and there was absolutely no malice.
If they are reading this, please know, I thank you for the challenge. The question was:
"Do you use AI to write your smut?"
Now, I wanna be very clear. I am 33 years of age. I've been in Tumblr for almost 13 years and I write when I have the time to do so. It's never perfect. It's always rushed and sometimes I get things wrong.
I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that AI would make writing so much easier...but guess what? When you're sitting in a hospital, surrounded by back stabbing, bitchy nurses, having my head down and writing is the only escape I get from them.
I am not one to judge anyone for using AI. I believe it takes a really secure person to upload work that has been generated by a bot. It's not for me.
As a Millennial who works almost 50 hours a week in a windowless Theatre Department with their hands covered in other peoples body fluids...I enjoy the challenge and the day dreams that occur during my downtime and I love nothing more than writing my thoughts on my iPhone notepad. Simple as that.
So, the short answer is: No, I do not use AI to write smut. I do not judge anyone who does...as long as they are honest about it.
My writing style has come from years of reading and communicating with other writers. I adopt my writing styles from other writers after speaking with them. I've become so much more confident in my abilities because I know I'll never be that "popular" writer...I'm just happy to dip my toe in the water.
I love that this is being challenged & please be mindful, fellow writers, that a question like this means that more people are taking notice.
Anyways, go and read my Patrick Sumner shorts. They were written after bowel reconstructions and I was still in a horny state for Patrick đĽ°
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Based on Iâm Gonna Be (500 miles)- Sleeping at Last Cover
The blackness was so deep she wasnât sure she was still alive. There was no sound, there was nothing. She was enveloped in complete and utter darkness.
âYouâre alright. You donât have to worry with us.â The voice played within the confines of the darkness. She didnât feel scared or lonely, but she felt the presence of something she had never experienced before.
âWhere am I?â She didnât say it, she thought it and it was the strangest thing, but she could hear her own thoughts out loud.
âNot long now. Eddie has your safe.â It was arms. It was arms keeping her safe. It was a firm chest she was rested upon and she wasnât mad.
______________
Venom galloped through the woods, snapping twigs and branches as it went. The overhanging branches providing the right amount of shade from the harsh sunlight and the refuge they needed from the men following them. It kept the human safe within the confines of itâs tar like skin. He never felt her flinch or panic, instead he felt the warmth of both bodies connected together within.
Stopping in the span of grass and weeds, he let himself sink back inside the body of Eddie. He could take this from here.
The panic rising within Eddie chest when he let the young woman fall to the ground could be seen in his eyes.
âIâm so sorry. Iâm so sorry for dragging you into this.â He paced the grass as he watched the girl compose herself. Her sunglasses sitting squint of her face and the messy, fashionable bun was well and truly messy now as it perched on top of her head.
Her look of sheer bewilderment was enough for him to perch by her. Not too close to frighten her but close enough catch her should she run.
âWhat is that thing?â Her sneer wasnât sincere enough to sound like fear or disgust, but more intrigue.
âThing?â Venom wasnât happy with the word she used, and she heard it.
Her eyes widened when she heard that voice she again. Eddie looked at her confused for a split second before realising that she could hear his new friend.
âYou heard him?â She nodded vigorously and mapped her escape route.
âWe are not a âthingâ. Tell her Eddie.â It was as thought he was fighting with his inner demons and mediating a conversation he was looking to be no part of.
âThen what the fuck are you? You think itâs alright to eat my lunch, steal my cab and kidnap me?â She was moving slowly with every word she spoke. There was no clearing per say, but she took her chances in the woodland than sitting listening to this thing toy with her.
âYou were merely caught up in the middle of a situation. You are safe with us.â Venom sensed her impending escape and pushed Eddie forward, his arm gripping the girl around the waist and bringing her to her feet.
âYou will not be safe if you leave us, however.â Eddie said. He didnât need Venom to know that this girl was now in danger. She saw too much and now she seemed to have the ability to hear the symbiote.
Her eyes took in the exhaustion, the stress and fear in the manâs eyes. He truly seemed regretful of the situation and she was too scared to argue.
âIâm Rory.â Shaking his hand, she nodded to the creature within Eddie as well as the man holding her.
âEddie. The âthingâ is Venom.â He heard the internal grunt.
âPleasure.â Was all he interjected. Eddie let Rory go and straightened his sweat stained hoodie. He wanted to ensure he looked up the job of saving her should anything else come along.
âSo, what do we do now?â She looked about the opening and realised she wasnât anywhere near the city. In fact, she knew it for a fact. The haze of the city lighting in the background, but there was no smell of pollution, no car fumes and certainly no sea.
âWe must find somewhere to rest for the night. We have work to do tonight.â Venom began nestling the grass and leaves around the opening and forcing Eddie down into a sitting position.
âI am more than capable of sitting, Venom. You donât dictate my entire existence.â He sounded like a scalded child but remained in his sitting position. With much interest, Rory came and sat crossed legged in front of the man and beast, interested in their back story.
âSo, how did you two meet?â Leaning her head on the palm of her hands, she watched the man roll his eyes and sigh. He was handsome and had a face she recognised but couldnât quite pinpoint where from?
âThat, is a long story that isnât worth going into.â He run his hands over his tired face, pulling his plum bottom lip and letting it go with a smack to the gum.
âIâm interested. I am absolutely petrified of whatâs clearly inside you. Is he a bug? Like in Men In Black?â
âI am not a bug. I can hear you and I donât appreciate being left of out this conversation.â Eddie shook his arms to stop the foetus of an argument growing any further.
âCan we rest? I need to find somewhere to sleep.â Eddie felt the rest of the energy leave his body. His exhaustion taking over.
âWe can go back to mines? If I knew where we were, it would be able to take you.â Then the realisation hit.
âWhereâs my cab?â
_____________
Walking through the woodland, they barely spoke, they bare even looked at the girl as she snapped the various twigs and branches under her heavy feet. Venom disclosing that her beloved cab was ânon-functionalâ anymore. He spoke of a broken carburettor, no glass left in the window and the fact that it was now submerged in the Pacific Ocean. Thinking he was funny; he pulled a quirky quote from one of Eddieâs favourite movies.
âItâs swimming with the fishes.â Both adults stopped in their path. Eddieâs face was one of shock and slight amusement. Venom always looked like he had a smile on his face, but the outwards grin seemed larger at the mention of the Godfathers most famous quote.
Rory on the other hand proceeded to turn slowly to face the creatures before her. No words were spoken, not verbally anyways.
So, the proceeded further into the woods, daylight slowly crossing their path. She had been in this area before but only dropping off. The various cabins and shanties littered the large opening of the new âindustrialâ forest.
âWeâre at least 10 miles from a main road. This is a reserve they use in the Summer.â Standing with her hands on her hips, she sighed realising they had to work at least another 2 hours before reaching a road that could take them into the city. A car that would be carrying one frustrated female, a man stinking of flesh, blood, sweat and sushi and proverbial creature from a world she didnât even want to know or understand.
âThis is fine. We stay here.â Venom pushed Eddie forward, his body carrying him to the closest cabin.
âYou donât understand. We canât stay here. This is someone elseâs home.â It was harsh whisper at best, but Venom proceeded to withdraw a tar-like tentacle and pull the girl towards them.
âWe sleep here.â It wasnât Eddie talking, but he pleaded with his eyes.
(The Cabin)
Breaking and entering wasnât far from the skills that Rory had, but the latch on the lavish wooden porch was providing difficult.
âYou are useless.â Disconnecting completely from Eddie, the ominous blob slipped between the almost airtight slit in the door and proceeded to turn the latch with ease, sliding the door open for Rory and Eddie to slip in, miraculously, unnoticed.
Venom seemed to make himself at home on the wall, watching Rory help Eddie to a small couch by the stairs. The space was small, perhaps only suitable for two people at most, but it was quiet and cosy. Rory set Eddie down with a thump, watching him lay back with heavy eyelids. The dark circles around his eyes seemed to stand out more in the dark shadow of the small cabin.
Switching on the small lamp by their side, she looked around the small studio cabin and imagined she was on holiday. She could lay back with a glass of wine and listen to the sounds of nature outside. Instead, she listened to the man next to her, moaning and groaning about being in pain and how hungry he was.
Venom stepping into action, morphed once again into tired Eddie and resumed homeostasis within this body again. He stood straighter; he was less pained, but he was still hungry.
âI assume thereâs deer in the forest. We could catch something to eat.â Now, that was Eddie. Horrified by the notion, Rory pulled herself from the couch in search for a phone or something that would connect her to the modern world. A small television sat by the door and switching it floored the room with sirens and breathed calls of terror about a âcreatureâ roaming around San Francisco.
âWe have absolutely no idea what this creature is, Bob. The black mass seemed to commandeer a yellow cab and proceeded to hold captive the driver inside and a man who has yet to be identified.â
Rory watched as her cab was fished from the water. Trails of debris and muck followed with it. Water pouring from every window. It wasnât a cab anymore.
âThe driver of the cab is a Rory McVae. A twenty eight year old San Francisco cab driver.â
âThatâs me.â Her cabby picture took centre frame during the new broadcast of yellow warnings and breaking news ribbons.
âIf anyone knows the whereabouts of this young woman, we urge you to contact us immediate-â Before he finished, Eddie pulled the wire from the wall.
âYouâll only scare yourself. Youâre safe with us.â Pulling the door closed behind him, Eddie walked down the steps of the small porch outside, sniffing the air like an animal, before Venom threw his tentacles out to the treeâs and he was gone from sight.
Dumbstruck, she clocked the wine rack by the small kitchenette. An array of vintage reds and crisp whites stacked in what looked like a perfect triangle, the most valuable she assumed, at the bottom.
Pulling the bottom out, she searched for a corkscrew, slamming the small cupboard doors and drawers in search for one.
âThey have all these bottles and not one fucking corkscrew.â She slammed the bottle down on the counter. The action giving her brainwave.
Bringing the bottle above her head, she planned to smash the neck of the bottle on the counter and it seemed like a fantastic idea and she was going to enjoy that wine more knowing she had to work so hard to get it. Before the bottle contacted the counter, a hand reached out to grab the bottle making her jump. Turning to see Eddie fresh faced and almost glowing, he gave the girl a timid smile before holding out the corkscrew.
She watched him carefully open the vintage red, grabbing two goblet glasses and pour a respectful amount into each. Handing a glass to her, he clinked his to hers as a sort of truce. She was frozen to the spot, he looked so different. He wore the same sweat soaked clothes, now with a smear of fresh mud and a stray twig, but his face was relieved of pain and hunger and replaced with a sorrowing smile.
âYou should have a seat.â
_______
âSo, you went to look for your friend and she was in a secret laboratory that one of the employeeâs let you into and then she left you and then âVenomâ, got into you?â She was sat with her second glass of wine, a pair of luxurious pyjamas on and Eddie was filling her in with the details of his situation.
âThatâs the long and short of it.â He had also stripped from his jumper and was wearing a tight grey t-shirt. His intentions to jump in a shower before he got comfortable.
âSo, youâre okay with this? Just, âhimâ piggy backing off you?â Before she finished, Eddie already tried to shoosh her, but it was too late.
âHe is my perfect host. He takes me where I have to. As a reward, I donât eat him from the inside out and your luck youâre still here yourself, human.â Venoms voice echoed around the small space of the living room. They had lit some candles, brought down some blankets and made the best out of a bad situation. Both humans sat on the floor, back against the couch and balanced their wines on their legs. It was peaceful and she now understood why people came here.
âWell, Iâm glad you see fit not to decapitate me but right now, we donât have a plan. Iâm going to assume that someone is going to want this cabin at some point, and we are staying here, illegally, so can we brainstorm?â Her wine sploshing about the glass as she gestured emphatically and trying to make them understand that she was an assertive woman. Instead, Eddie saw a tipsy cab driver completely out of her depth.
âMaybe we should rest, and we can figure things out in the morning?â He took the glass from her hand and rested it by his side. But without a momentâs hesitation, she grabbed the bottle from between them and stood up.
âYou canât waste a vintage, are you mad?â Drinking from the bottle, she slurped the red liquid and handed the bottle to Eddie for his own swig.
âWhy not.â Venom entered into his brain with a peer pressure push.
âYouâve had a tough day. This is what you need. Well, from what I can understand anyways.â His deep voice rang in Eddies ears as he took a further sip of the wine.
âGood man.â Saluting the man, Rory padded into the kitchenette, pulling a bottle from the rack and throwing it to Eddie to open again.
______
If anyone was to look at them, they would seem like a love drunk couple, joking and laughing on the porch of their honeymoon cabin. In actual fact, the laughed at without really knowing why. Their drunk addled brains in sync with each other as the howled for no particular reason. But Venom new; red wine.
âDid you grow up in San Fran?â His question was random, and he wasnât sure he wanted to know or if Venom wanted to know, the symbiote sitting on the back burner for the drunk fest.
âSan Franciscan.â Raising a glass to her hometown mentioned, she urged him with a nudge to retaliate.
âYeah, same.â He clinked her glass and they both took a sip of wine.
âI worked in New York for 2 years before moving back.â Her voice seemed lower, like she was embarrassed.
âMy father was a cab driver. Hit and run. Left everything to me.â Rolling her eyes, she turned to see the look of sadness in Eddies eyes.
âIâm sorry to hear that. Big shoes to fill?â
âYeah. Not that he was a great cab driver. He had type II diabetes and had to get jeans specially made for him.â She could only laugh remember her father doing nothing more than driving his cab day in and day out. No relationship with anyone other that her mother and dedicating himself fully to be a cabby.
âNo time for Rory unfortunately. So, moved to New York and didnât look back.â Drinking in her wine, she now understood why money buys you happiness, because the wine brought a blush to her face and a light to her heart.
âHis loss.â It was just above a whisper, but she caught it. Enough to turn her eyes to meet his. It felt like a forever silence, but it was broken with Venoms grumbling voice.
We should rest. Big day tomorrow.â Snapping from their gaze, they both stood from the small couch and ushered themselves inside.
âIâll take the couch.â Eddie was already pulling blankets and sheets out to settle on the couch.
âIâm much smaller than you Eddie, please take the bedroom.â Wrapped still in her green blanket, empty wine glass in her hand, she moved towards the couch.
âYou both sleep in the bed. Thatâs what you both want.â Venom deserved a stand ovation for that bombshell, Eddie thought. Closing his eyes in embarrassment, he shooshed the voice in his head, but realised she could also hear him.
âIt will be much more comfortable. Less chance of anyone seeing you if they pass by.â Rory was trying to be logical. She knew the man for less than 24 hours, but she was stood in another personâs pyjamas, loaded up on red wine and in the presence of an attractive man. Sharing a bed was either the best or the worst idea they could have.
Trudging up the small set of stairs to the attic, the beautiful bed was large enough to hold at least six people, so there were no worries of even touching each other during the night.
âSee? Plenty of space.â Rory dropped her green blanket and placed the wine glass on the small bedside table and crawled up the floor bed. Her hazed head could only imagine what it was like to sleep next to someone for the first time in 2 years.
Turning onto her back, she caught a glimpse of bare torso and leg as Eddie stripped to his briefs to get into the bed ânextâ to her, but when he settled, he seemed miles away from her. The large window streaming in the moonlight and the warmth of the blankets against her cold skin was enough for her to settle. But all she could think about was the warm body next to her. Her thoughtâs running a mile a minute and her body reacting accordingly.
âGoodnight Eddie. Venom.â She acknowledged the creature because of him good ideas, but he never replied. She heard the soft snore of the man next to her.
âMaybe next time.â She whispers, before fading into that familiar darkness.
@gutterfortunecookieâ @niktwosixteenâ @evelynshelbyâ @mollybegger-blogâ @rocksluâ @br0ck-eddieâ @cameleonhardyfan63â
So, I've been writing some smut whilst I've been living in my hotel room. I've been watching Bronson and realise that Tom actually has absolutely beautiful hands (pinky fingers included). I've been writing some drabs about his hands and them being the main feature.
So, I am taking requests. It can be one shots if the premise is there but it'll mostly be Drabs. So, get in your requests now! It. Can. Be. ANYTHING and ANY character.
I got some inspiration for this from this gif! I absolutely love Eddie Brock right now. Heâs actually the light of my life. So, enjoy this little mini series. I will be updating again tonight with the second chapter and then hopefully finishing off the next chapter of Weâre All Trapped.Â
Based on Troubled Town- Jake Bugg
The buzz of the San Francisco streets made the job seem that little easier for Rory. Her cab was always kitted out with essentials; sunscreen for the tourists, water for the parched and candy for the kids. She was always a step ahead of the Lyft and Uber drivers when it came to the tuck shop in her car. Today was no different.
Travelling down Lombard Street mid morning was a delight with the growing honeysuckles to the left and the sweet nectar of the peonyâs to the right. She didnât mind the 20 minute wait at the bottom, just happy to see her beautiful city in blossom.
She didnât have any hires until late that afternoon and she always greeted her patrons with a smile and a good morning. They always said she looked too young to be a cab driver, but she had the winning smile of one who was destined to do it for life. They didnât know the story, they didnât know her background but she was happy to hear such a kind sentiment.
This particular Friday morning was no different than any other. She woke at 6 am, she showered, dressed and made herself some breakfast. Her coffee machine programmed to ensure there was a cup of coffee ready for her coming out of the shower and she was thankful for such a thoughtful gift from friends. It wasnât the fanciest, it didnât froth her milk but it did get her mornings off to the right start. Pulling her hair up into a lazy bun, she threw her packed lunch over her shoulder, grabbed her cabby keys and started her morning run around the streets of San Fran, not knowing that the very action of getting out of bed that morning was going to change her life for good.
________
âGood afternoon, Sir. Where are we off to this morning?â Her travel mug was set in the holder as the gentleman settled in his seat.
âCould you take me to Pier 39 please?â His obvious British accent stood out a mile. His cami body warmer and green checkered shirt was an obvious mistake in the San Francisco heat, but she would point that out before she got to the gentlemanâs location.
âLovely, you off to do some sight seeing?â Indicating into the oncoming traffic, the mutual respect from her other cabbyâs saw her on the way and with a polite wave out her open window, they were off to Pier 39.
âI am indeed. I have so much to see and such little time to see it in. Iâm from London.â He beamed with pride when he told her. Her eyes meeting his in the rear view mirror, she gave the man a kind smile.
âWell, I would like to personally welcome you to San Francisco and would be honoured to give you some top places to visit in my City.â She smiled again realising that he would be eaten alive by the tourist traps situated around the area.
He seemed extremely excited by this request and continued to ask her about the restaurants, Alcatraz Island and whether you can actually see Whales from the river.
This is what she was made for.
______
He wasnât sure what happened to him. His investigation into Carlton Drake was ticking all the right boxes, until He came along. Escaping all forms of the law was proving to be extremely difficult during the day.
The symbiote showing his face in every reflective surface as he walked through the busy streets of San Francisco wasnât helping Eddieâs anxiety. Each passing glance showing people the true demented face of a starving, thirsty and exhausted Eddie Brock.
âWe must eat, Eddie.â His voice was always low and somewhat calming to Eddie. But, behind that soothing voice was the sinister request.
âYou kidding me? Youâre lucky youâre still here.â Pointing harshly at his chest, he noticed the concern faces of the people passing by and all he could do nod and reassure the best he could.
âWeâre hungry. I am hungry. We canât be hungry.â
âShut up, shut up, shut the fuck up.â Eddie couldnât focus on him. He could smell fish. Was it fish? It did smell like fish. Fish and flowers.
___________
Sushi wasnât always ideal in the San Fran heat, but with little to no time to really sit and have a lunch, she enjoyed the small store bought platter of California Maki with a modest little pot of soy sauce. A marvel for the modern age that she could sit and enjoy âgourmetâ food from her little safe space in the cab. Well, thatâs what she thought.
____________
He could smell it. He could definitely smell it.
âWhat can you smell Eddie? It smells, alive.â The symbiote growled with the deep gnawing hunger they both of them felt.
âItâs definitely alive.â Clocking in on the source of the smell, he noticed the yellow cab parked up in the estate and imagined it would be easy pickings for him and his hungry new friend. His stride seemed, bigger. His hunger seemed, insatiable and his thirsty, unquenching.
As he neared the cab, he noticed the petite figure reading a book in the driverâs seat. Hair high on her head and sunglasses shielding her from the sunlight.
This will be easy.
______________
Turning the radio up as Jax Jonesâ Tequila came over her speakers. Her shoulders moving to the beat as she chewed her sushi in beat with the music. Before she could finish her mouth full of Maki, the makeshift platter that she held close to her was snatched from her hands. Greedy, tattooed paws continued to munch down her sushi without appreciating the actual taste.
âGod, thatâs goooood.â His emphasis on the âgoodâ was matched with an almost seductive eye roll.
âExcuse me. If you donât mind me asking? What the fuck are you doing?â Her hand held the chop sticks mid pick and she could only stare at the sweaty, deranged looking creature in front of her.
âI canât resist a California Maki.â Speaking through a mouthful of Maki, spitting bits of rice and roe in her face. Before she could even argue, the tell-tale sounds of gunfire could be heard. So close in fact, that her sushi stealer ducked one of the shots.
âWhat the fuck is going on!!â She watched the stranger jump into the back of her cab and grab the back of her headrest, shaking the woman till she started the car.
âGo, go, go! Theyâre after me. Theyâre going to kill us. Fucking GO!â With the last âGoâ she was covered by what she could only describe as black tar. One stretching into her ignition and the other splayed across her foot pedals. Jutting forward into the street, she watched the speedometer from her seat, her arms grasping at anything and the man behind her screaming to slow down.
âME SLOW DOWN? ITâS NOT ME CONTROLLINGÂ THE FUCKING CAR!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? FUUUUUUUCK!â San Francisco was famous for the various sloping hills. Beautiful for the scenery, but not for 120 mile hour car chases. Feeling the car leave the safe concrete of the road below them, they seemed to scream at a similar pitch as everything went into slow motion. Feeling the car fall forward and the sound of various cars chasing behind them, she knew they werenât going to touch ground softly.
âWeâre going to DIEEEE.â Milliseconds before touching ground, her body was enveloped in the same tar-like substance controlling her car. It was safe. It was warm. It was absolutely fucking terrifying. Inside her safe cocoon, she came face to face with the man who stole her sushi. His worried face merely took in the mirroring expression and he wrapped both arms around her body.
âJust go with it. Heâll make sure weâre safe.â
@niktwosixteenâ
Itâs a confusing time for everyone but I feel my writing has got a bit stagnant. So, Iâm branching out and writing some new material. I will still be finishing off my previous work but decided to write more complex characters.
I am completely open to suggestions. Iâm just a message away from some story ideas or collabs, so get those in PRONTO! :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
As some of you might know, I've been on a (very) long hiatus because of health issues. I've also got a big grown up job AND regular sex with an ACTUAL man (What the actually fuck...I know) Well, all these factors have been the reason I haven't been on for months! I have read through all your amazing messages and I'm honoured to have such amazing people behind me! I will be back! I promise you all! I've had a few chapters sitting for some proof reading for ages but I just haven't had any kind of time to post it. Here is a list of things I've been up to- A relationship with a very special young man with a great penis. He satisfy's me greatly A new job. I'm now a professional Diamond Expert Jeweller. It's amazing but the hours are long and the training is fucking HARD! All I can think and dream about it Diamonds. I really do apologise for being so fucking shit! I definitely will update soon :)
I will have another two chapters of We're All Trapped coming your way over tonight and tomorrow! I also have some...ALFIE AND TOMMY SMUTTY DRABBLE! ARE WE EXCITED? I'm excited! @rockslu @imissyoumyvalentine @niktwosixteen @tomorrowschampion @lauraaan182 @thihaf @vestales @jaybeebird
(This picture is my inspiration as to what AU! Tom Hardy would look like. London Road sexiness!)
   *READ WARNINGS BEFORE THE STORY PLEASE!!*
Good evening my loves!
This is a very sad bit of fluff. Very sad indeed.
AU Tom Hardy is my favourite! I would love to see him as a fireman or someone who owns a coffee shop or something! I will say, this was inspired by a friend of mine who recently lost her husband to Cancer. Cancer is mentioned and I hope I do not offend anyone, this is a work of fiction! This is not based on Tomâs read life and this has nothing to do with anyone he associates with. Itâs a short piece of fluff to bring the reality back to us, that heâs only human, just like everyone else.
I love you all dearly! If you have any concerns or wish for me to âelaborateâ do not hesitate to message me.Â
He watched her every time she came into the small community centre. Her head was always hung low and her eyes dotted with red blotches from crying. He remembered the first time he came here and the same actions he took before he planted her arse on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs. Her hair a chocolate brown he had never seen before made her stand out from the grey around him.
Standing from his seat before she spooked again, he came up beside the fragile woman and noticed her far away glance take in the âWe Can Help Youâ poster.
âThe longer you look at it, the more daunting it gets.â He kept his voice low. The people in the background didnât need to know about the damsel in distress.
Her eyes shot to his and as if he could read her mind, he stepped quickly to the other side of her before she could run.
âYou canât run. I ran and it didnât get me anywhere.â Putting his hands out to stop her, her face looked almost panicked for a second before it went to the emotionalist line he saw in just about every person that walked through the doors for the first time.
âPlease let me go. I donât need to be here.â Her quivering voice was a stab to the heart and he recognised the painful reality that she was avoiding help, because she didnât know that she needed it.
âGive me ten minutes.âÂ
Sloane sat against her fabric couch and sobbed until it hurt to breath. Her heart breaking, her head busting and her body tired, she kept pushing the tears out and wailing the sobs into her empty living room. The sparse room once filled with memories of better days, people she loved and times she cherished were packed away in one singular box in the hall, hidden away from the grieving woman.
The movies always saw their character breaking plaster with their fists and chugging alcohol by the gallons, but Sloane couldnât even find the energy to exist never mind breakdown. She had heard her friends talk about loss. She witnessed what it was like to be an outsider in a situation she had no idea about. Her happy little bubble refusing to burst, yet still fearing the unknown sting.
Now she knew.
âI need you to breath and I need you to calm yourself.â His voice was monotone and he kept his distance from the sobbing woman, giving her space to grieve in the new environment.
Her body was hunched over her folded arms as she wept into her worn green cardigan, frayed at the sleeves and collar. Her body looked tired and used but he was optimistic to catch her attention if he just kept talking to her.
âYouâre going to hurt yourself. You need to stay calm.â He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and expected her to flinch from the contact, but instead, she moved into his palm.
âI donât know why I came here. I donât know what Iâm doing anymore.â
Her realisation was his que to move. Leaning into the woman, he wrapped his strong arms around the woman and squeezed.
âYou do know, youâre just avoiding what might happen.âÂ
âDanny was a fighter. A kind hearted man full of love and devotion. With his son, Ailbe, they would play and bond together as father and son, with the careful watch of Sloane. Together they rest here, in Godâs arms and I pray he takes them into his heart and warm embrace, so they can be together, forever. Amen.â
Nothing he said made sense to Sloane. Her eyes trained on the headstone of her husband and baby boy and she couldnât see anything else but a circus of people, dancing around in their black shawls and wailing at something they had no idea about.
Her body was wrecked with exhaustion and her mind was numb with pain, but knowing her boys were going to be resting a few feet below her, made the World crash into reality.
âFor as much as it has pleased Almighty God to take out of this world the souls of Daniel Marcus Ryan and Ailbe Sean Ryan, we therefore commit their body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that blessed hope when the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord, wherefore comfort ye one another with these words.â
She never imagined herself as being an emotional person, but as she watched her only reason for life descend into the ground, her body become aware of the pain and sorrow. And she gave into it.
âIt was never really my intention to marry him, ya know? He was 6ft3 of pure fluff and charm.â She laughed into her coffee shop and immersed herself in the calm chitter chatter of the cafĂŠ. The gentleman in front of her just a mere stranger she met a half hour ago. Here she was, telling him her sad tales of lose and heartache.
âI had never been to Ireland before. The call of somewhere new and exotic called out my name. Now, as an eighteen year old, I didnât exactly have the cash flow to go somewhere hot and exotic.â The man laughed. He was only humouring her, but she appreciated the breeze sound of his laugh.
âIt was love at first sight.â Her tears couldnât be hidden. She remembered him smiling and laughing at her. She closed her eyes and the images played out of the tall man charming her with his Irish accent and love for pool.
Opening them again, the stranger was watching her, a sad and kind of distant look on his face.
âAnyways, I beat him at pool. We kissed, fell in love and that was that. Together almost thirteen years.â Remembering the past tense, she wiped away the tear and drank the cold coffee in front of her.
âTell me about your son.â Snapping her head up to him. She furrowed her eyebrows and let out a sad sigh.
âThe priest said âTaken too young, a soul the Lord needed back in his warm light.â He was my boy. My beautiful, smart little boy.â Her voice was a mere whisper compared to the screaming in her head, telling her to quit while she was ahead.
âHis name was Ailbe. He would have been three today.â Twirling her finger around the cup, she smiled at the man and laughed out a little at the memory springing around behind her eyes.
âHe use to pick up my hair brush and tap it against anything that would made a noise. Danny would hear it and start singing one of his many Irish songs. Urging Albie to keep going.â She laughed out when she remembered them both laughing and swaying while their boy played out a various assortments of bangs and clatters with her wooden hair brush.
âHe had this, smile he would do. You would know he was up to no good.â Laughing again, she realised this man couldnât see her beautiful boys face smiling up at her.
Pulling her purse from her bag, she pulled out the small Polaroid picture taken in Carrickfergus and showed the stranger that very smile. The smile that made the woman coo and fuss over him. The stranger took the picture from her, examining the cute family picture of a woman soaking up her happy bubble.
âVery beautiful.â Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he opened the leather flap with a painful sigh and pulled an almost identical square from his photo slot. Turning it to her, she looked at the well-worn picture of himself and a beautiful woman.
âGracie. Ovarian cancer.â Smiling at her shocked face, they both looked over each otherâs picture and basked in the silence they were accustomed to. Her eyes taking in the beautiful features of his late wife and his taking in the dimpled cheeks of her son and high cheekbones of her handsome husband.
âWe have both lost something that once made us complete. You wake up in the morning to an empty bed and a silent house and wonder when the pain is going to stop. The voice in your head tells you that âThis is it. Youâre going to need to deal with this.â But you push that back. You think maybe if you go down and make yourself some coffee, theyâre going to walk up behind you and hold you and tell you Good Morning. You think youâll hear them say âI Love Youâ again. But they donât.â
His voice strained ever so slightly. Her tears falling slowly.
âYou can still see them, right?â He watched her close her eyes and nod, causing more tears to fall.
âThat wonât go away. But the images get a little greyer. They get a little less focused. But they wonât go away.â Reaching out for her hand, she looked the stranger in the eye.
âItâs not something anyone can do alone. I wonât make their voices disappear. I donât help you blur their faces. But everything in between? I can help with that.â Stoking her hand, she nodded at him, listening to her husband taught and mock her for being a cry baby and listening to her baby laugh and gargle.
âIâm Tom.â Moving her hand for her, he shook it softly and watched her laugh a little. Her eyes an almost piercing green.
âSloane. Sloane Ryan.â
A smile was all he needed to make his appear. A ray of light in what was a dark space of his mind, he saw his wife lying in bed next to him, before it faded to light.