Taking leave away from the mercenary camp had been a necessity for everyone, not that Xylaes had a home to go to these days. The fall of Dalaran had destroyed both his place of work and his home, and he hadn’t had a chance to make alternative arrangements yet. Too busy being held captive in Azj-Kahet and then on his personal vendetta and rescue missions. Not that he had the funds to be able to afford a new home, a fact that didn’t seem to bother him. He had been homeless before, this wasn’t anything new and he had friends that would offer him a place to crash if need be.
Xylaes’s son Garren had decided to return to his home in Bel’ameth for a week or two for his own leave, and it felt like a good time for the older man to finally take his own as well. He hadn’t been invited over to Garren’s house, and honestly he didn’t expect it. Everyone needed their time alone and away.
It was difficult to know where to go now. Had he become a void elf? Would he even be welcome in Silvermoon City anymore? He didn’t look like the others with his tanned skin and dirty blond hair. Nor had his eyes turned blue like the majority of the void elves possessed; his now looked as if he were about to commit some major war crimes while laughing maniacally. His voice hadn’t developed the dark echo, nor had his blood turned purple either - except, oddly enough, in that one arm. That foreign, replanted arm taken from someone who had pissed off the House of Constructs in Maldraxxus all those years ago.
There had been no luck in identifying the previous owner of this arm, there were no fingerprints and even a little bit of blood scrying gave no information, only more questions The runes on the arm weren’t anything he nor any historians of any races had recognized. It wasn’t until Pollux had mentioned that the Shadowlands were likely the afterlife for all planets in all universes that Xylaes had thought, that just maybe, this was from someone not of this world. It made sense, it was the only thing that made sense at this point.
Xylaes was just a wild blend of contradictions now.
Void magic, but not a traditional void elf.
Now also brimming with magic, but still mostly immune to it.
Unpracticed with his new skills, but somehow knowing exactly how to use some of them.
He had some wild times in his life, but this was taking the cake and eating it too. Xylaes didn’t mind it. He was overdue for a shift in his trajectory and maybe this was exactly what he needed. He had been hiding himself away for the comfort of others ever since the change happened; he saw the uneasy looks and hesitation in some of their approaches. Maybe it was time to fully embrace whatever this new path would bring.
Taking out his comm, he typed out a message and sent it away to the one person that had already been helping him down a new path: Ouro An'dar.
‘Hey, I got some leave to take. Need help with anything?’
When Lydia came into the dining room and took her seat at the table, Charles and Delia exchanged surprised glances with the Maitlands. Instead of her usual black goth attire, the girl was wearing a pale blue blouse and a denim skirt.
"What?" Lydia asked.
"You ... you look lovely," her father replied. "What's the occasion?"
Lydia shrugged. "I just felt like wearing something different for a change, that's all."
Just then Beej came in, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Mornin'," he mumbled. His eyes widened when he saw what his BFFFF was wearing.
"What?" Lydia asked him.
The demon frowned. "What are you wearing that for?"
"I just wanted a change," she replied.
Beej mumbled something under his breath and began to eat his breakfast.
"Well," Delia said, "I think change is healthy."
"Absolutely," Barbara agreed.
"Change is good," Adam added.
"Does this mean that you're officially not in mourning any longer?" Charles asked.
"No," came the reply. "I don't know. I mean, I still miss Mom, but I realise that she'd want me to move forward, you know? And I don't have to wear black all the time to remember her." She absently stirred her scrambled eggs with her fork. "I'm just trying it out -- I might go back to black. I'll see."
" 'Scuse me," Beej grumbled, and he stood up and left the dining room.
Lydia looked around at the others, and put down her fork. "I think I better go talk to him -- excuse me." And she left to find her undead big brother.
She headed upstairs to Beej's bedroom. She opened the door and went in -- no sign of him.
"Beej?"
"Leave me alone," she heard him say. She looked up and saw him hovering a few inches below the ceiling.
"Beej, come down," Lydia said. "Let's talk."
He floated down and sat heavily on his bed. "What for?"
"Tell me what's wrong."
"You decided to change," he told her. "I don't like change."
She sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. "It's just my clothes," she replied.
The demon shook his head. "No, it's not," he said. "You wanna move on -- you said so."
"I ... I can't stay in mourning for the rest of my life -- my mom wouldn't want that."
"But if you move on, what ... what happens to me?" A tear trickled out of the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek. "You won't need me any more -- and I'll be alone again."
"You dumbass -- I'll always need you! You're my best friend. My big brother -- my family! I love you."
"But ... but what about when you go away to college in a couple of years? I'll never see you again."
"Of course you will!" Lydia told him. "I'm probably gonna go to college in New York -- and you go there all the time to see Dewey! And I have no doubt that the two of you won't give me a moment's peace," she added, grinning.
"Belie' dat, girl!" Beej replied with a chuckle.
”Feel better?"
The demon nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Just promise me that whatever you do, you won't start wearing pink, okay? I hate pink."
She leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Beej smiled happily, his hair blushing.
Lydia took out her phone and snapped a photo of him.
"Why'd you do that?" he asked, his eyes wide.
"I wanted to show you what you look like with pink hair." She held it up. "See?" she said. "What do you think?"
I'm beyond tired of ME saying it all the time, but I have not died, disappeared, or given up!
Longer story short: holidays were hectic but good, and I FINALLY got to start my new position within the company I work for - and though I'm only on my 2nd day of training so far, it's amazing the difference I feel!
It's like a huge weight has been lifted off of my back/shoulders/chest. I'm not stressed at work, I'm not anxious, my trainer is like, the sweetest, most patient and welcoming woman, I'm enjoying all that I'm learning so far and am eager to learn some more, I look forward to the future in my new job, I really think it'll be a much better fit for me and my life, and I hope to be here for a long time to come!
It's nothing personal at all against my previous coworkers... but you ever feel like you're just not you at your job? Like it's turning into someone you don't recognize and/or like? My prior position wasn't an awful one (I've had jobs that were soooo much worse), and it wasn't inherently difficult - but I was doing a lot on my own w/ next to no help (not my coworkers' fault, they had their own duties to do), and it felt like I was on a never-ending treadmill with no end in sight. It was just... so discouraging.
I know I'm still in the 'honeymoon stage' of my new position, and it won't always be perfect/'fun'/easy/etc... but I'm so happy to be here (so far) and it's amazing what a difference I feel now (like a '180').
ANYWAY - I feel like I FINALLY have some decent time to devote to 'Shadow of Steel' again, and am actually getting some MUCH-needed work done on it today! I really, really hope to have a chunk of the 'slightly updated', revamped previous chapters up on Ao3 relatively soon!
As for my other fics... well... I'll be 100% honest, I don't know if I'll ever finish 'The Book of John'. ...Which is really a shame, b/c I seriously had so many plans & creative ideas for that fic (plus, I totally wanted to explore the slow burn that would be John & Sarah in that fic). I'm not 100% cancelling it out just yet, but I'd say it's definitely in the 'limbo/chopping block' area of my writing plans. :-(
'I Need to Tell You' - same as above. I'd say it's around 2/3 of the way finished, so I would really like to complete this one (especially since it's more plausible for John & Sarah to have a happy ending in this one, LOL)... but I don't know yet if it'll happen. We'll see, I guess?
Thank you for hanging in there and waiting patiently, those of you that did... but if you haven't, I don't blame you one bit - but I'd like to hope that you'll give me another chance (someday, heh).
.....And in my mind, Arthur Maxson is waiting outside my door with a baseball bat - since his much-liked girlfriend has been kidnapped for forever now, and he really doesn't appreciate my excuses, LOL. *XD
Billy didn’t do well with big changes. It made him stressed out, highly strung, angry, easily upset (and tearful, but no one saw that). So the news that Neil was relocating their “family” to almost the other goddamn side of the country was not well recieved.
He didn’t think about the cause of these kinds of emotions too much, instead learning from his father and society to push down these difficult feelings. Hold them in. Ignore them. But it probably all started with his mom leaving. It was horrible. Despite the years gone by, never hearing anything from her, his throat still tightens and his heart aches when he thinks about the weeks, the months, of calling her number, begging the voice machine down the line to please come back, please come back to him. Please come get him, take him away with her. That he loved her - did she not love him?
He decided she didn’t. How could she of, if she left him without so much as a single call, a single visit? Just a tearful quiet goodbye in the night - he was just a little kid, not understanding what was going on, wrapped up in his bed covers, bleary-eyed as he was woken in the early hours by his mother, whispering her love and apologies for him. He was confused, was she going out? Thinking back he wished he screamed and cried, begged her to stay, yelled at her how selfish she was, a sick part of him sometimes fantasised about his shouting waking Neil up - she couldn’t have left then. Not that night at least.
Of course he knew why she left. He knew he should understand, be sympathetic, she was escaping her bastard of a husband. But did she never think that all the suffering she beared would instead be passed on to only Billy? She was a smart woman, so he found it hard to convince himself she didn’t know what would happen. An uglier part of him hated her for it - she chose Neil, Billy didn’t ask for him to be his father! He had no choice in the matter. And he had no choice a second time when she left in the night, leaving little Billy all alone with the abusive man she ran away from. No choice a third time when Neil whisked the two of them out of the house they could no longer afford without his wife’s income into a small dingy apartment. No choice a fourth time when he was moved all over again - this time into a bigger house, but with the addition of a step-mom and a little girl following him around everywhere, calling him her brother. And now, no choice a fifth time, with Neil moving them from his home - San Diego, the place he belonged, the only place that held memories of the woman his mind couldn’t decide whether he loved or hated. Moving him impossibly far from his home, almost to the other side of the country.
rarely on here anymore.. transitioned mostly to instagram - mostly posting 1 min edits, most of which you can also watch on my youtube channel (tho i do have a backlog so i’m posting 2/day until i catch up)
i miss tumblr being lit.. it was fun being here. having fun now making longer versions of the insta edits & posting them on youtube. check out my other platforms ~ thanks for rollin with me
*Personal Thoughts to Follow, if you do not want to read such, move along. :) *
How long should you knock on the same door with no answer before you give up?
Turns out, sometimes I knock for way too long. I hear the party going on inside and I want to come and be a part of it, but either the music is too loud or people are too preoccupied, or sadly they peek through the blinds, see it is me, and ignore the knocking. Meanwhile I watch the back door creak open and people sneak in there.
Whatever the case, my arm is tired, and I am done knocking.
Because of my social anxiety disorder friendships in meatspace can be very difficult if not impossible to maintain. A disorder which was manageable through early life has gotten worse over time. For this reason, I often find I try to make friendships online. See, in cyberspace I get to be the real me. Sure I am anxious and have issues like so very many people here, but I *can* be social. I *can* “go out” virtually. I *can* be myself.
It’s hard to say precisely why, but some of the old approaches that always seemed to work well before in WoW, SWTOR and myriad other games have not really worked well here. Perhaps I had extremely good luck in the past, since others always told me their horror stories and nothing like that ever happened to me. (Unless you count when I was stalked irl because of it but that is a different story). Perhaps I just had bad luck in some circles here? Who can say? I have asked people, very frankly and received puzzling and contradictory information and advice.
What I can say is I have to make some changes.
I have wanted to for a while with certain things but the road has been tough and the eternal optimist in me always feels like “things will turn around! Just give it more time!” but it is simply not healthy to follow that course any more. There is something to be said for optimism and sticking it out of course, but at some point you become that random annoyance knocking on the door that is never going to open. You are not on the list and the velvet ropes are there to keep you out. Also, no matter if you are genuinely kind or nice to them or how much you desire it to be so, not everyone wants to be your friend, or hang out with you, or even acknowledge your existence.
This is *NOT* a “call out” post, these are just my own meandering thoughts. It is no secret to people who know me that I have had some struggles this past year or so. Ups and downs. Some people entered my life that proved to be negative even if they attempted to appear positive. A precious few, @mai-takeda chief among them, brought in a lot of positivity and I am grateful for them. I guess then in a way this is a call out post. I am calling out Mai for being awesome :P I am not listing others at this time.
Anyway, this is mostly for me. Kind of like a journal entry. I wanted to just get some stuff out and figured this was a good enough place. It also can help explain some of the rationale behind my being so disengaged lately. I am slowly making my way back to tumblr and trying to at least keep up with tags and the extremely rare message I receive (another cause of frustration since it seems many people are interested in being friends ONLY if you are willing to ship or erp with them. As soon as you are in a ship quite a few lose any and all interest in you as a person) but I am not sure if I will ever get back to the level of involvement I once had.
If you read this and took something from it or appreciated it, then I thank you. If you felt like this should not have been posted I remind you the body was below a cut and simply put “my page my rules.” 98% of what I post here is FF content and aesthetics including responding to others or re-sharing and supporting their content. The remaining 2% is other content I find interesting, funny, or cool enough to post as well as the occasional personal commentary. If this bothers you, I am sorry but respectfully if you find what I post bothersome you can un-follow me or choose not to read it. No longer will I allow *ANYONE* to tell me what I can or cannot post. I will not give into past pressures to “Share more of my posts” nor will I be made to feel bad when I share something from another person that someone else does not like. I allowed people to do this to me in the past and all it did was cause me angst and make me upset. In fact, it was a large reason I started to avoid using tumblr.
(Bonus gratuitous Bowie picture.)
If someone approaches me to not share something, with the exceptions of content you own (artwork etc.) or something that is embarrassing or hurtful to you *AND* is based on you (Ie - a picture of your toon in an embarrassing light etc.) I will shut that shit down immediately, no exceptions.
Additionally, I will continue with my policy of staying out of tumblr drama as best I can. This applies in particular to things that occurred before I even was playing FF or on tumblr! Just because I post a picture set I like from someone you do not like, it does not mean we hang out on Saturday nights painting each others toenails or that I am choosing sides in a drama I probably do not even know about.I use this platform to network, make contacts and friends and share content related to a hobby I enjoy. I hope you enjoy the things I post! If you do not, I am sorry to hear that, and wish you well in finding a page more in tune with your tastes.
Now if after all this you are still here AND are not planning on hitting the un-follow button AND think you might want to be more than tumblr mutuals, hit me up! Send me a note. Drop me a line. Use a smoke signal. Whatever. I know I am interested in more friends. I like to think that despite my flaws I am a pretty ok person. I guess ask people who I have actually spoken with or hung out in game with. I would also like to build some lasting RP contacts that want to enjoy this nerdy game together. I can also offer as an added bonus a rambln raen girl who I am often with as part of the package.
I know this was a lot for most people to want to read and I do not take it personal if no one is still reading at this point. Again, I posted this mostly for myself. It also helps me to track thoughts and feelings that get muddled over time.
It’s finished. Finally! Hopefully it’s a satisfying enough ending :)
I’m going to make one last post with all the chapter links together and then you’ll finally be done seeing posts on this fic lol
Title: Changes
Ship: Sonny x Reader (OC female character)
Chapter 9: Changes - A life without Sonny feels incomplete. But he can’t possibly feel the same way about you…can he?
Time passes you by slowly. The leaves change colour, the days get shorter and the air gradually turns colder. The tears you cry eventually subside, but sadness still lies just beneath the surface. Your daily back-and-forth to college seems so monotonous. There’s no doubt that you love your job and you are able to slip into your teacher-persona for classes twice a week, yet outside of those hours, you can’t quite seem to shake the feeling that you’re incomplete.
Occasionally, while walking campus or the New York City streets, you may cross paths with some tall man clad in a well tailored suit. Your stomach flips and, for the briefest moment, hope swells inside of you. But each time, you realise that it’s just another stranger.
Oftentimes you find yourself staring at his number on your phone. Though you promised each other that you’d keep in touch, you have never been brave enough to press “send”. Every overthought draft of Hey, how are you? or Hi, how have you been? has been deleted; your mind fabricating some excuse as to why your communication would be unwarranted.
Your self doubt is only compounded by the silence on his end as well. Sonny Carisi is a busy man. His life is consumed by his work; a detective by day and law student by night. Even so, you’ve imagined all the different ways in which you could be there for him: from being an ear when things get rough, to leaping into his arms for a warm embrace whenever he finds success. Fantasies aside, you have convinced yourself that he would have no place in his life for you.
Therefore, time after time, you click off the screen and blink away the tears that threaten to fall over what will never be.
Life continues to drag by and your heart remains heavy. You go to bed at night feeling low, only to wake up the next morning and start all over again. No amount of journal entries can siphon the heartache out of you. It’s hard to continue living this way. So, one evening you do the only thing you can do. With shaky fingers, you grab your phone and dial. You inhale sharply. It rings once, twice and then the line picks up. “Mom?” you whimper.
You pour your heart out over the phone, confessing to her everything about the summer you spent with the Italian detective. You reveal how you’ve fallen for his personality, his compassion, his drive and even the way he saunters around a room. The emotion spills out of you as you confide in your mother. She’s always been your voice of reason and she still is now. The advice she gives you is what you already know deep down inside, but is nevertheless exactly what you need to hear: Tell him how you feel. You have nothing to lose.
You hunch over in bed after hanging up, and stare at Sonny’s number on your screen. You resolve to take a leap of faith. You need to tell him what’s in your heart. You settle it in your mind once and for all before you have the chance to talk yourself out of it. Yet, you’re nervous as hell. How do I do this? you wonder. You can’t hide your fear or emotions behind a text or a call. You need to see him. That way, there will be no ambiguity. You will be able to know whether he feels the same or not. You’ll be able to read it in his gorgeous blue eyes or by the subtle changes in his expression. If he doesn’t feel anything for you, you can at least move on. Regardless of the outcome, the uncertainty needs to end; it needs to stop tearing you up inside.
The next morning you dress carefully, fretting and spending too much time deciding what to wear. You have a class in the afternoon so you need to come across as a professional, but at the same time, you don’t want to approach Sonny looking like you’re about to make a business deal. You want to look good for him – pretty, even. It’s a foolish notion. You’re not a superficial person and you believe that Sonny isn’t either. Besides, he’s already seen you with your hair sticking out in all directions. Still, you choose yourself a nice blouse that matches your eyes and dress pants that hug your curves in just the right way.
The journey back to the 16th precinct is automatic. Your feet remember where to go even though your mind is somewhere else. You step into the elevator and select the button for SVU. Your pulse rises with each floor the elevator climbs. The air feels thick, like you can’t quite breathe. Finally, the lift dings and the doors slide open. It’s hard to take that first step forward. This is it, you think. You’re going to profess your love in front of the entire unit. Should I be doing this? Is this ridiculous? Your heart pounds in your ears as you slowly round the corner into the squad room. It’s now or never.
You’re met with the familiar sounds of ringing phones and idle chatter. Nervously, you scan for Sonny. Your eyes dart frantically around the room. Instead, all they land on is Sgt. Benson; Sonny nowhere in sight. You can feel your face begin to flush as you approach her. Benson says your name affectionately, surprise painted across her features.
“Hi, Sergeant,” you say uneasily, “Have you, uh…Is Son– Detective Carisi here?” You stammer and clasp your hands together in front of you to stop them from shaking.
“Oh,” she responds, “he said he needed the afternoon off today. He already left.” Your heart falls. Benson then takes another long look over you, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” you choke out. “I, uh – it’s nothing. I gotta go,” you manage, turning to leave. “Nice seeing you again, Sergeant,” you add quickly, then scurry for the safety of the elevator.
To say you are disappointed is an incredible understatement. You desperately push the “close door” button after the elevator lets you in. You feel ashamed. Foolish. You talked yourself into this for nothing. Was it infatuation? The thrill of someone paying attention to you for once? Did you allow yourself to fall in love with someone who didn’t love you back? Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. If it was, he would have been there. Maybe this was fate’s cruel way of telling you to move on.
As you stand outside the police department, a shaky breath escapes your lungs. The cold assaults your hands and you shove them deep inside the pockets of your woolen peacoat. You try to keep the tears at bay as you start down the tall steps. You have to keep going. Afterall, there’s a class to teach and no time for feeling sorry for yourself.
The college lecture hall holds about 100 students, your class filling just over half. There’s a gentle slope to the room that leads from the door to the podium with tabled seats spreading out perpendicular from the aisles. You have the lights dimmed as you give a lecture on the circulatory system within the heart. Every now and again, you pause to write keywords on the blackboard, allowing students to focus on their importance. It is one of those very moments when your back is turned, that you hear the click of the door at the back of the room. Immediately, it ticks you off. There’s only a half-hour left to the session and some kid decides to come in late? Talk about irresponsible!
You’re about to deliver a covert passive aggressive remark, but as you turn around, you’re instead rendered speechless. Your tongue sticks in your mouth and your heart seems to stop beating. There is no mistaking who has joined your lecture. He quietly takes a seat in the very last row, distinctly at least a head taller than the other students around him. Those expressive eyebrows you had missed so much, raise when his eye catches yours. You look down briefly, smiling to yourself before continuing the lecture.
He observes you intently as you walk your students through the lecture material. All summer you had watched him excel in his domain. Now, he could finally see you shine in yours.
The next half hour flies by and you conclude, dismissing the class. Students pack up and shuffle out. One pupil however, remains seated until the very last student leaves. He then gets up and makes his way to the front of the room. You can now fully discern his attire as he comes closer into view: A camel coat with a crisp white shirt underneath. No vest. No tie. Just a few buttons left undone near the collar. It’s a different look than you were used to but one that’s positively handsome.
“Yourra really great teacher,” he calls to you, long strides drawing him nearer.
“Thanks,” you say, beaming. “But…what are you doing here?”
“Well,” he begins, now standing in front of you. A sideways smile is etched across his lips. “I took the afternoon off wantin’ to sit in on a lecture. I had heard about this really great course ‘n wanted to see if it would be the one for me.”
Your knees become weak. “And?” you question, raising an eyebrow.
“I really enjoyed it and never wanna miss out on it again,” he smiles, eyes crinkling with affection. Your heart flutters in your chest, beating a mile a minute. “Oh, and I don’t like admitting that I was textin’ in class, but a message from Sarge came through sayin’ you were down at the precinct lookin’ for me?”
You swallow hard. “Yeah,” you say vulnerably, “I was looking for you, too.” You pause, gathering your courage. “I really miss you, Sonny.”
His smile grows. “I really miss you too,” he reveals without hesitation.
Despite his statement, you feel compelled to explain yourself. “I know we didn’t start out on the best terms at the beginning of the summer, but I…really grew to like you.” The feelings you harbour finally come tumbling out. “I enjoy being in your company so, so much and I don’t…I don’t want to lose out on that.”
You stare up into Sonny’s swirling blue eyes. They’re so kind and gentle. Those eyebrows you once found to be so disgruntled, are softened just for you. The voice you had thought boisterous, is low and calm. Even the swagger you initially considered pompous is simply confident and charming. But one of the best surprises has come from just getting to know him. Sonny is one of the most sincere and considerate people you have ever met. The way he looks at you with genuine affection and respect causes your stomach to feel like it’s filled with a thousand butterflies.
How do you tell him all this, though? How do you say I love you? But as you stand there in front of him and his smiling eyes, you understand that he already knows.
“I don’t wanna lose you either,” he speaks softly. There are tears forming in your eyes because you finally know that he feels the same way. Sonny’s gaze begins to flicker down towards your lips. “May I?” he whispers, but you’re already responding with a gentle nod.
Sonny carefully cups your face in his hands and brings his head down to place a tender kiss upon your lips. You close your eyes and lift your hands, finding purchase on his chest.
You are completely transfixed by his soft lips on yours. A warm tingle spreads from your toes to your heart, seemingly lifting you up with it. You lean further into Sonny’s kiss before you eventually part. His fingers run tenderly along your arms, taking your hands in his.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that, doll,” he smiles, accent deepening.
“Same here,” you grin. Your eyes linger on one another for a moment longer, before you turn to gather your belongings.
Sonny collects your coat and helps you into it. “Wanna grab some dinner?” he suggests.
“I’d love that,” you answer, smiling again.
Then Sonny offers you an outstretched hand. You happily accept, his fingers interlacing with yours as you make your way out of the lecture hall.
No, you didn’t expect that this is where you’d end up in your life – that a little summer job could open your eyes to so much and to so many wonderful people. You never knew that you would end up going through so many changes. Most importantly however, you never could have foreseen that your little summer job would lead you to fall in love with someone who had fallen in love with you too.
(Apr. 22: Now continued as part of a series. Part 2 here)
Notes:
This is the first multi-chapter fic that I’ve sought through to completion. And while I have put off other, probably more important tasks to do so, it still feels like a significant accomplishment. It’s not an elaborate or polished fic by any means, but that’s the beauty of fanfiction: readers are generally already aware of the world and characters, allowing authors to focus more on feelings rather than needing to fully describe every little detail.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this and I’m extremely thankful if you made it to the end. You don’t know how much I appreciate seeing the notes on here. It makes me smile knowing you took time out of your day to read my stuff. Thank you! <3
