Veryconfusedhuman
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- Marble Hornets (3)
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Jay died, and even though it's been weeks, Tim still feels the pain everyday like it's fresh.
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Jay and Tim in a crappy hotel room, talking, barely awake. Nothing comes from it, but Tim remembers it years later.
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As he speaks he moves one of his hands down from Jay's shoulder to wrap around his hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Ridiculous. This was the sort of faux pas that would make you the laughingstock of the Ton. But Tim didn’t know that. The man dealt with sick people and dead bodies all day, cocooned in a bubble of chopping and slicing and illness. In that moment Jay would have given anything to have traded places with him, to not feel as if Tim’s hand was a burning brand as much as it was a soft and gentle heat.
Tim teaches Jay how to dance. Jay has a realization.
Bookmarked by Veryconfusedhuman
18 Apr 2026
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" “And I don’t want you to share anything about me aside from things relating to the hospital. My life is here and I can’t- I don’t want anyone knowing this about me.”
Alex thinks of the mic in his jacket.
“Of course,” he says. “No one will know.”
“Do you promise?” Tim asks, expression uncertain.
Alex sighs, takes a small sip of his drink, and then holds his hand across the table. Tim tentatively shakes it.
“You have my word,” he says. "or, Rosswood au timlex, before and after it all goes wrong
Bookmarked by Veryconfusedhuman
18 Apr 2026
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“Stay…” Tim regrets it almost as soon as it leaves his mouth. It's all on display now: the longing, the want, the need. The starved part of him that aches for something. For someone.
(Or where Jay somehow survives and together both him and Tim must learn how to heal.)Bookmarked by Veryconfusedhuman
19 Mar 2026
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After the end of entry #77 Jay gets attacked by the Operator, which leads to Skully preventing both Alex's and Brain/Hoodie's deaths in his own weird, mildly disturbing way.
Bookmarked by Veryconfusedhuman
12 Mar 2026
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He’d never bothered to think about it. Why would he? It was unchanging, like the rising of the sun or the musty odor of cigarettes that now clung to practically everything he owned. He had been shot and his side hurt and his stamina had been completely eradicated by years of fevers and his wrist clicked like a broken hinge more often than not. These were the simple facts of life, things that even Jay wasn’t inclined to question.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell whenever it decided to flare up.Jays wrist hurts. Tim helps.
Bookmarked by Veryconfusedhuman
12 Mar 2026