#I dreamt that I went all the way to LA to see one of their shows at a small outdoor venue

[myfriendtheghost]

had a GVF dream last night and naturally in my dream I had to log onto tumblr and tell everyone about my experience

so here I am fulfilling the prophecy

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.” 

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit. 

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.” 

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me. 

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video. 

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!” 

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself. 

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react. 

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either. 

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on. 

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful. 

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight. 

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore. 

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything. 

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?” 

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to. 

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well. 

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously. 

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling. 

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. 

I needn’t have worried. 

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me? 

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more. 

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him. 

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls. 

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.” 

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those. 

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling. 

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion. 

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness. 

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw. 

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.” 

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further. 

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name. 

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me. 

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

[gingiesworld]

Just A Place Holder

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N and Wanda were together for three years, Y/N was very much deeply in love with her but they never really had her heart. Wanda had always been in love with Vision. He was her first love, the one she always dreamt of a future with.

Y/N had planned to propose to her on her birthday, made reservations at her favourite restaurant. That was until they witnessed it, in Tony's kitchen at a get together. Wanda and Vision too close for comfort. As soon as the two noticed Y/N stood there, Wanda gave them a sad look.

"I'll leave you two be." Vision said before kissing her cheek and walking passed Y/N to their friends.

"Do you want to explain?" They asked her calmly, too calm which even surprised themselves because they were angry and hurt.

"Y/N, I." Wanda sighed as she looked away.

"Was I just a place holder? Someone to keep you warm on those lonely nights?" They questioned as she looked at them tearily. "Did you even love me?"

"Of course I do." She told them.

"But you love him more." They stated as Wanda took a shaky breath. "And this is over?"

"I'm sorry Y/N." Wanda whispered. "It's just that, I still see a future with Vision."

"What do you see when you think of me?" They asked her as she shook her head, not wanting to answer. "Just tell me?"

"I don't see anything with you." She admitted as they nodded their head, pursing their lips.

"I'll pack your things and drop them off at your brother's for you." They told her before walking away from her. As they walked passed Vision, they took the velvet box from their pocket and pushed it to his chest. "I don't have any use for it now." Everyone watched as they left before looking between Wanda and Vision. All of them wore disappointment on their faces.

As time went on, Y/N had packed up all of the reminders of Wanda as they supped on vodka straight from the bottle.

"This isn't healthy." Pietro told them as he let himself in their apartment.

"I saw a future with her P. I wanted to marry her, have kids. The whole shabang!" They told him. "But she never saw me the same way. I just kept Vision's spot warm until he was ready for her. Again!"

"Y/N." He tried as they finished the bottle.

"Are they back together?" They asked him, all Pietro could do was sigh. Y/N nodded knowing the answer. "My uh my company has a branch in LA."

"You can't leave." Pietro stated as Y/N nodded their head.

"I can." They told him. "I have to. There was only one person who really kept me here and it turns out that was all a lie." They sighed before turning to him. "Please just make sure he makes her happy." They asked him before they walked him to their door. That was the last anyone had saw or heard of Y/N. Knowing that Wanda had truly broken their heart into a million pieces with no one but themselves to pick up the pieces.

[phregnancy]

last night i dreamt that i went out to a bar the same night as TIT LA and dan and phil were there and standing next to me at the bar to order and we were all already drunk and internally i was freaking out bc i wanted to say hi and say a few nice words but i didn’t want to annoy them when they were at a bar drinking with each other so i thought i’d just be nice and tell phil that i really like his shirt (he was wearing that see through black one with silvery flowers and blue branches from dan and phil try a drinking game) but then they got their drinks and started walking away and then i was sad bc i wasn’t gonna chase them down to force a conversation upon them so i moped around at the bar until they came back for some reason and then the bar had started turning into a club and the three of us were annoyed and openly expressed our dislike of clubbing and that sparked a small conversation between us about how we’re not club people and were going to leave and so we all made our way out of the club and that’s when i decided to compliment phil’s shirt and started walking towards another bar and phil and i were drunk and laughing and dan was glaring at me and whenever he’d speak to me he’d be really rude and gave me the energy that he hated me which made me sad but i was still happy to be going on a walk with phil and then he said he was way too drunk for another bar actually and i suggested that we stop somewhere to get a bite to eat to help settle the alcohol in his stomach which phil was all for so we were walking along a main street looking for a place still open to get them some food and eventually we stopped in at a pizza place and they were ordering the food and i was thinking damn i can’t ask for a photo now bc i’ve gotten myself in too deep i’m acting like i didn’t know who they are even if i didn’t outright say it and no one will ever believe this story if i don’t take a photo so i guess this will be an experience just for me and we had our slices of pizza and started walking again before phil sat on the sidewalk which made me laugh and then i could sense that made dan angrier but i was still trying to ignore it so i sat next to him and got my phone out to take a picture because it’s normal to take silly drunk pictures with your friends and then dan asked what i was doing and i explained that to him and he scoffed and told me they are not my friends and then i woke up. even in my dreams dan is calling me out for being a parasocial bitch

[crystalofmoon19]

La Isla Bonita - Striker x Singer! Reader

Tropical the island breeze

All of nature wild and free

This is where I long to be

La Isla Bonita

The sun would set so high

Ring through my ears and siting my eyes

Your Spanish Lullaby

La Isla Bonita - Madonna

You were definitely special, Striker had no doubt about it, when he heard you during the competition he was captivated by your melodious voice, even when you called him "snake". In fact that made him a little amused, because it was quite obvious that he was a hybrid, but even so Striker couldn't help but look at him even for a moment and when he saw you, he really became fascinated by you.

At first, you seemed to be a fairly normal imp, you had black hair and black horns with small white stripes, traits typical of females of the species. However, what differentiated you from the rest was that you had a curvy silhouette. The red dress you were wearing only highlighted your wide hips and hugged your waist. Also, your makeup and the roses you used to decorate your hair made you stand out a lot more than other girls and your natural beauty will stand out; and Striker knew from the first moment he saw you that you were very beautiful and that he had to conquer you.

"Vil víbora." He heard you say that phrase in Spanish that he couldn't understand but that he wanted to interpret as a kind of compliment.

Did you also speak Spanish? Every moment that passed he became more interested in you and it seemed like the feeling was mutual, Striker laughed internally as he saw how you tried to hide your blushing cheeks with your fan.

Do you really think he didn't notice your persistent gaze towards him throughout the competition? Maybe this was going to be much easier than he thought.

When he won the competition, (which clearly cheated) and claimed the prize from him. He turned his gaze to you and saw you cheering for his victory. Striker chuckled as he rattled his tail like a real rattlesnake and shared a look with you, he saw your pretty eyes get scared of him.

"Aw, you're too sweet for hell, sugarcube. But I'd still go after you." Striker thought to himself.

Before he could do anything he heard the voice of another man who saw that he called you and you ran towards him; He seemed to be your father, since you looked a lot like him and when you approached him, he heard you two start speaking in Spanish.

Striker watched you walk away with your father, and somewhat disappointed because he couldn't talk to you, he limited himself to going to the place where you saw the competition. That's how he found your red fan that was lying on the floor, he picked it up from the floor and cleaned the dust off it, with this he smiled through his teeth again.

Now he had an excuse to see you again and he would definitely go after you.

You've captured his attention after all.

___________________________________________

Striker really didn't expect to find you so quickly, he simply decided to attend the party he was invited to by one of the farmers who had worked with him recently. Striker wasn't exactly a party guy, but he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to drink a beer and have a good time if he wanted to, so after the competition he went through it seemed like a good way to celebrate his victory.

But he didn't expect to see you.

As soon as he was welcomed at the party by his boss and his wife, that's when he saw that you were in the middle of the small improvised stage with a classical guitar in your hands and some mariachi musicians who seemed to accompany you. You were still wearing the red dress that accentuated your pronounced curves and beautiful figure so well, you put your black hair in a ponytail and you seemed to have more red roses since the last time Striker saw you.

"¿Cómo puede ser verdad?"

There was no doubt that it was you, he could recognize that beautiful Spanish accent of yours anywhere.

Last night I dreamt of San Pedro

Just like I'd never gone, I knew the song

A young girl with eyes like the desert

It all seems like yesterday, not far away.

When you started singing on stage, Striker had his eyes on you and only you, just like you did when you watched him in the competition. I knew you had a beautiful voice, but the fact that you were a singer was a real surprise that Striker didn't expect but that he somewhat admired about you.

It was no secret to anyone that he is also a music fan. He knew how to play the guitar, he sang and composed, but you just showed that you were at his level; that was saying a lot with the big ego that the rattlesnake demon had that made him stand above the others. That you made a good impression on him was surprising, like some kind of miracle.

Such was the amazement you gave Striker, that even his boss could notice how quickly you caught his attention, so he simply let out a laugh.

"So, do you like that girl, son?"

"Well, she really is a sweetheart, Hal. Do you know her?"

"That's my niece."

Striker momentarily stopped looking at you to narrow his confused eyes at Hal.

"She's your what?"

"Yes, she's my niece. She comes from Carmen's side of the family, they come from the other side of Wrath, and every so often we get together to spend quality time. But that always ends in big parties and my niece is the soul from the party."

Tropical the island breeze

All of nature wild and free

This is where I long to be

La Isla Bonita

And when the samba played

The sun would set so high

Ring through my ears and siting my eyes

Your Spanish Lullaby

Hal was not exaggerating when he said that you exuded dazzling energy and passion, you seemed like a bright light that shared its warmth to others beautifully, Striker cursed under his breath.

Not even Beelzebub could compete with you, darlin'

"And you already knew my niece, Striker?"

Hal's question caught Striker off guard, it's as if he had taken a bullet in his shoulder or at least that's how he felt it, but he tried to calm down a little to answer.

"I saw her during the competition today, she looks like she's from Wrath but I haven't seen her here before either. She's so…"

"Special?"

Striker was actually going to say "hot" but took Hal's answer as valid by nodding his head. To which Hal just let out another laugh.

"I know what you're going through, son. I also felt the same way about Carmen when I met her, an attractive and charming woman, from the other side of Wrath but who seemed as if she were the last drop of dew in the desert; but her love It burns as hot as the hottest flames of hell."

I fell in love with San Pedro

Warm wind carried on the sea, he called to me.

You threw one of the roses from your hair into the crowd, who fought over the rose like wild animals fighting over food, but you didn't care about that as you tentatively approached a boy in the front row to whisper in his ear.

Te dijo te amo

Although you whispered it, everyone heard you, the guy in question fainted, while all the men in the crowd, upon seeing this, decided to attack the imp that you paid attention to. Striker didn't blame them, he would do the same thing if he were in that place, he still could do it, maybe tonight he could shoot a couple of heads off. A young lady as beautiful as you couldn't settle for just any imp, no, you deserved a man who could protect you and he could easily fill that position.

He had to make you his.

I want to be where the sun warms the sky

When it's time for siesta! You can watch them go by.

Beautiful faces, no cares in this world.

Where a girl loves a boy, and a boy…

Striker stared at you and it seemed like you noticed his snake stare because you stopped for a moment, again he could see in your beautiful eyes how nervous you got so soon when you saw him, Striker let out a small laugh at this.

Loves a girl

Striker loved the effect he had on you, it would be so easy to go after you, he couldn't wait for the moment when he could talk to you and finally win you over. So as soon as you finished singing your performance, Striker was already behind you, until he was stopped by Hal.

"So, I guess you're going after my niece, right Striker?"

"There is a problem with that?"

"Not at all, son, I can understand why she captured your attention so much. I only warn you one thing, girls like her are very difficult to conquer, I tell you from my own experience; I had to do a lot for Carmen to even accept me on the first date." Believe me when I tell you that it is much easier to kill a hellish pig than to be with one of them."

"Please, Hal, I don't think she's that difficult."

"I'm just telling you to prepare yourself, son. This could be one of the most difficult duels you've ever had."

Striker simply rolled his eyes to the side and walked in your direction before he was interrupted by Hal again.

"Please, Striker, be good to my niece. She really is a good girl."

The rattlesnake demon hesitated for a moment but in the end, he gave a sigh and raised his hat in respect, he was lucky that Hal is a good man to do that.

In the end, Striker walked over to where you were, who seemed to be talking to the musicians who accompanied you in your performance, and waited until they left to talk to you.

You and him could probably make a wonderful duet together.

[snippychicke]

It's Just business 5: Cleaning

TADAAAA

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over. 

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.  

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

Cleaning 

Sanji was lost in thought as he cleaned the galley after breakfast. Granted, there wasn't much. Zeff had drilled it into him to clean as he went. He did more out of habit, as well as allowing himself the time to think.

He was overjoyed that you had joined the Straw Hat crew despite your obvious hesitancy. Leaving Baratie and Zeff was one thing-- it was hard but also freeing. Like a bird leaving the nest once it was fully fledged, and taking flight to find its own way in life. 

But leaving you? That hadn't sat so well in his chest. Despite not actually being in his day-to-day life, you were still a constant. He had counted the days passing on the Baratie by how many more until you returned. 

The mere idea of not seeing you for who-knew-how-long had terrified him. Never seeing your smile again, or being able to wrap you in his arms tight and feeling you all but melt against him as you squeezed him back? It would be a nightmare. 

Thank the gods you decided to follow. He had been over the moon when you conceded; you and him, finding the All Blue. Together, just as he often dreamt. 

He hadn't really given much thought as to why you caved despite your initial reluctance. But after last night…

-*-

"So why are you flirting so much with Nami when you already have a girlfriend?"

Everyone in the men's quarters froze at Usopp's sudden question. Sanji was convinced he had misheard him, which - considering they were all getting ready for bed - was understandable, and asked: "I'm sorry, what?"

Usopp fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with everyone's attention now on him and the tense feeling in the air. "I mean, you've been flirting with Nami kinda hard. Like, full-on heart eyes whenever our navigator is even mentioned. So do you and our new helmsman-slash-bookeep have like, and open relationship, or…" 

Sanji laughed despite the uncomfortable feeling of his face growing warm. "God no, nothing like that. We're just close friends is all." 

The silence didn't ease any, and all three men were staring at him now. "What?" Sanji finally asked. "Do you have a problem with that?" 

"Just the fact it's bullshit," Zoro muttered, one eye opened from his own hammock. 

Sanji crossed his arms. "Well I wouldn't expect you to know much about having friends." 

"Nah. Zoro's right," Luffy added. "You two are closer than friends." 

He was definitely blushing by now, and the urge for a cigarette was itching at him. "I assure you, we are not. There is nothing romantic between us." 

Which, that was a half-truth. He couldn't deny the fact he was still in love with you, at least not to himself. He was convinced no matter what, he was always going to love you. But you had made it clear you weren't interested in him that way, and he'd respect that. 

"Like I said, bullshit." 

-*-

Why had you decided to change your mind? Was it simply that the bonds of friendship were that strong, and you were already wavering that his request had broken your resolve?

Sanji had given up on you returning his feelings years ago. He had flung himself into trying to find those same emotions in other women in an attempt to cover up the ache from the realization no matter what he did, you never believed he was being serious. 

That plan had worked - for the most part - back at the restaurant. It had only ached a little bit when you and him would steal a bottle of wine and escaped to the back deck to catch up. To hear your laughter echo across the night, cheeks darkened from the alcohol. Or the fact you would end up cuddled to his side after a few drinks, desperate for human touch after being by yourself for such long periods of time. He couldn't help but indulge in the chance. Arm slung over your shoulder, dreaming of what-ifs and maybes as you would both lapse into companionable silence. Pressing a kiss to your forehead when he could tell you were on the verge of sleep before gently encouraging you to bed. 

And now he was going to be around you everyday; hearing that laugh, seeing that smile... Nami was a beautiful woman, but she had nothing on the way your face lit up with delight as you bantered back and forth. How you literally would try to bite back a smile while pretending to be upset. 

How was he supposed to keep his heart contained? If the rest of the crew already thought you were romantically involved, surely you would catch on as well. That the indulgent touches, his pet names, all of it wasn’t as platonic as you believed.

Would there be that disgust in your expression like when you caught him flirting with others--Nami included? Would you be angry? Or would you laugh in his face before pity overcame your expression and you told him you would never feel that way for him? 

Could he even dare to hope that maybe, despite everything, you’d blush shyly and smile at him? Or-- more likely-- smack his arm while burying your face against him as you were prone to do when embarrassed. 

God, if only.

Sanji was pulled out of his thoughts as the door opened and you wandered in, face reddened by the sun and wind. "Damn, you've really been busy. I expected at least a few of Luffy's dishes left." 

Sanji smiled as he threw the dish towel over his shoulders before leaning against the island separating you. "It's easy to clean when he doesn't leave anything but crumbs. Were you going to come help, or do you have something else on your mind?"

You shrugged your shoulders as you leaned against the island as well, mimicking his pose. "Mmm, sorta? Mostly just missing the covered helm of my ship, to be honest. I'm going to be sunburnt as hell, but also I just wanted to come bother you." Your smile grew as you winked. "Just think, I get to be a pain in your ass all the time now." 

That damned smile of yours was going to be the death of him, yet at the same time he knew he'd die a happy man. "How ever am I going to survive the horror of being stuck on a ship with two lovely women as well as being the boss of my own kitchen?" He teased back, delighted as your face turned darker yet and you looked away. 

"You dork," You scoffed. "You would be in seventh-heaven right now. I can't believe we're heading to the freaking Grand Line. As pirates. My parents are probably swearing up a storm right now." 

Sanji chuckled as he turned to start making you something to help cool you down. "I'm still surprised you agreed. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy as well, just surprised." 

"Yeah, well, I seemed to recall saying something about you being stuck with me forever." 

His smile grew as he remembered that promise-- shortly after your parent's death as you decided to continue their work. He knew you had no interest in working the Baratie; you weren't one to stay in one place for long, nor were you fond of the large crowds. 

He had been so worried it meant he would never see you again --that you would sail away one last time, never to return. He hadn't been able to keep himself from pulling you against him tight, mentally thanking every deity yet again when you decided to keep your parent's transport route. 

"And I said you'd never be alone." Sanji poured the ice drink into a glass and handed it to you, smiling softly as you met his gaze. He meant it back then, as well as now. Even if it ended up killing him. 

》°《

One of the cooks had left out a bottle of Brandy. And well, Sanji had been assigned to clean up for the night, and you had decided to ‘keep him company.’ 

Teenagers did stupid things, and neither of you were immune to that fact. 

The kitchen was roughly cleaned, though Sanji could admit he spent more time talking with you, leaning against the same counter you sat on - especially once he mastered mixing up Brandy Alexanders. The more the late hours wore on, the more Sanji was entranced with you. Watching your eyes catch the light from the overhead lamps, or run your tongue along your lips to catch a bit of the creme from your drink. 

Sanji would be willing to argue you had started things first; when you leaned forward so you could play with his hair, your fingers stroking his cheek softly... He wasn't sure what enticed you, but held still as if afraid moving would scare you away. 

Yet when you finally met his gaze, cheeks flushed as you bit your lower lip, Sanji couldn’t help himself. He leaned closer, one arm braced on either side of your hips before brushing his lips against yours. He could taste the chocolate still on your lips, making him sigh as he pulled away.

Your hand wrapped around his tie, stopping him. There was a challenging glint in your eye as you pulled him close for another kiss. 

Sanji swore he had died and gone to heaven as he indulged himself. Kissing you properly like he had always dreamed about, tasting the remnants of drink on your lips along with your own natural taste - that was better than any meal he had tasted. His hands moved to your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh lightly as he pulled you closer, so tempted to see if he could convince you to part them so he could step closer still; to have those strong legs wrap around his waist, to press his hips against yours…

Except before he could push his luck, you pulled away, gasping for breath. “Wait. Stop.”

He groaned, but rested his forehead against yours as he placed his hands back on the counter. “What’s wrong?” He asked, though silently swore to himself that if you hinted he was a bad kisser again…

“It’s just… too much,” You whispered. “We-we’ve had too much to drink. This isn’t us.” 

Sanji leaned back, his eyes meeting yours. He wanted to confess that this was exactly what he had always wanted - that this was what he wanted as much as finding the All Blue. But even in the haze of bliss and brandy, he could see the hesitancy - the fear - in your eyes, and it cut him straight to the core. 

He gripped the edge of the counter tightly as he forced a smile. “As my lady wishes.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before stepping back, offering a hand as you slid down from the counter. “Do you want me to walk you back to your ship?” 

You shook your head, face flushed. “No. But… thank you.” 

Watching you walk away was like cutting his own heart out, but he stood strong as he shoved his hands in his pocket. 

[skyler10fic]

In My Room

Daisy and Carol have been cast in the same movie, but with very different levels of fame. As their friendship blooms into mutual pining, they get a bit obsessed and lovesick along the way, but admitting their feelings would carry consequences for them both. This is a teaser for a longer WIP multichapter! Get excited :)

For the end of @ficwip All Ships Ship Week. Prompts: Inspired by a song (Julia Wolf's In My Room), “I’m sorry.” and the free day! I wanted to challenge myself at some point to write in an actual ship/boat as a pun, so that’s my free day choice, along with mutual pining.

Read on Ao3

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Between shooting scenes for her new movie, Daisy went back to her trailer on the studio lot. In a moment of cringe she hadn’t experienced since bombing her Crazier Rich Asians: the TV Series audition, Daisy typed her own name into an incognito browser tab. She would never admit it to her gorgeous, sexy, crush-turned-coworker-turned-friend Carol, but she was curious to see what Carol would find if she looked her up. There was no way the elite, up-and-coming Oscar darling Carol Danvers had the same level of background knowledge of Daisy Johnson that everyone in the world had about Carol herself. Daisy had a steady career in Hollywood, including as a beloved character from a long-running show; Carol had global stardom. They were getting to a point where the information imbalance was weird, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Carol would try to remedy it. Or maybe Daisy was just obsessing and overthinking again.

The search results were nothing Daisy hadn’t seen, of course, but looking at it now, she tried to imagine what would interest Carol and what would be a turn-off. As she pondered this, she looked up and saw the jacket Carol had left on the sofa in her trailer. It was an accident, of course, but Daisy imagined what it would be like for it to belong there, for Carol to leave things here in her trailer, or even at Daisy’s house on purpose, knowing she’d be back. 

A knock sounded at the trailer door. It was Carol, not an assistant, with her magazine-cover demure smile: “I’m sorry to bother you in our off time, but I think I left my jacket here?” 

“Yeah! Hi! Come on in,” Daisy greeted. She subtly shut her laptop so Carol wouldn’t see her googling herself. Explaining the search was to see what Carol would hypothetically find would be even worse than just coming off like a self-obsessed publicity-slurping narcissist. Luckily, they had no reason to reopen Daisy’s laptop as they chatted, burning away their free time until the next shoot.

—-------- 

Carol couldn’t tell Daisy the real reason she had left the jacket in her trailer. It hadn’t been forgetfulness or hurry, but an excuse to see her again. She dreamt almost nightly now of what it would be like to wake up with Daisy’s clothes on the floor, Daisy in her bed, perhaps a permanent drawer in her bedroom. Even once, she dreamt she was a bride in an empty chapel, hoping it would be Daisy opening the door to walk up the aisle next.

Things took a particularly dark turn one night as she dreamt she died and was watching her own funeral, but the crucial thing her dream self needed to know was if Daisy was there and what she would say. 

Carol woke before dawn, slipped on a long cardigan, and went for a walk in the woods that lined her expansive backyard. She had everything she could have wanted: a career every actress dreams about, a gorgeous house, and finally friends in the industry. But as selfish and juvenile as it felt, she needed one more thing: just a call from Daisy. A call that said everything between them was real, and not only in Carol’s dreams. 

—-----------------

Due to previous scheduling commitments, Carol spent a week in New York on a TV show set, making a cameo that would have audiences cheering, but all she could think about was being away from the film and from Daisy in LA. Luckily, when she was home, the weekend began with a cast reunion of sorts as the film studio arranged a dinner cruise for the main actors and crew. The only condition was that they had to give one-on-one interviews for the behind-the-scenes coverage of the film’s production for promo. 

Daisy emerged from her interview inside the boat’s cabin to see Carol standing on the deck at the front of the boat alone, gazing out at the glow of the city skyline and the silence of the night. 

“Is it weird to say that I missed you this week?” Daisy asked. 

“I hope not,” Carol confessed. “I missed you too.”  

Daisy smiled in satisfaction and turned to face the ocean. She moved to the pointed front and spread her wings out in a poor imitation of the Titanic. “I’m flying, Jack!” 

Carol laughed and took her position holding Daisy’s waist, despite no risk of her falling overboard. When Daisy lowered her arms and turned around, it took a moment for Carol to realize how close they were, that she was staring in awe into Daisy’s dark eyes, that if she just closed the gap between them…

Carol realized this wasn’t a dream and backed away with a jolt. The tension of the serious moment melted back into silliness, and the other actresses joined them with fresh drinks to chat and party the night away. She didn’t miss the way Daisy looked at her at the end of the night, though. There had to be something there between them.

The long-established industry titans told her she had to choose: being closeted with a promised room full of Oscars or being proudly out as Daisy’s partner but with a forgettable career… if those were truly the options on the table, suffice it to say she envied how easy Daisy made it look to leave the closet behind. 

—-------------- 

Daisy had wondered how she could miss a coworker, or even a friend, who had only been gone a week. But she did. Every day. And it got worse. After the dinner cruise, it was all of the time they weren’t together. 

It was too soon now, but one day, Daisy would be brave enough to tell Carol the truth. And maybe it would end up with a tearful rejection and disaster, not to mention a tense working relationship for their movie that could spill out to affect Daisy’s reputation, branding her difficult to work with at a critical step in her career. Or maybe it would end up with Carol’s things in her bedroom from nights of pleasure turned into days of happily ever after romance. 

Could an ending like that be possible in the cutthroat town where so many dreams came to die? Did they have what it took to brave the public eye? And more importantly, could fairy tales come true in Hollywood even with no cameras rolling or script to follow, when it’s your real life? 

[xplrvibes]

Any good stories from your travels?

Do you mean my most recent travels, or all time?

Cause I've always dreamt about writing a book about my US travels one day, cause some of what I got up to was incomprehensible lol.

But for this most recent trip, I definitely had a blast! Some highlights include:

1. Running across Abbey Road in the pouring rain with no umbrella and no coat (I forgot) and then just spending the rest of the day not rectifying the situation and walking around London completely soaking wet with no worries in the world.

2. Speed running the Louvre. Seriously, we hit almost every room on every floor in 6 hours. 26,000 steps and almost 10 miles of walking and my feet were so swollen I almost couldn't get my shoes off, but hey - it was an accomplishment.

3. Tesco Express in London and FranPrix in Paris saved my life multiple times and I will forever ride for them.

4. We stumbled across the King's Guard practicing for Trooping the Colour and we had no clue what was happening. This nice older gentleman saw our confusion and came over to tell me what was going on and he seemed so genuinely excited that I, a random American tourist, was genuinely interested in this mock parade that he basically gave me a whole history lesson on trooping the colour and the entire UK military right then and there. I love meeting people who get excited to share some things about their hometown. It's really pure.

5. Belgian waffles sent me to orbit many times.

6. Europeans have the BEST cherry coke, like wtf is happening there and how do I make it happen here? GAH.

7. I happened to be at the Tower of London on the anniversary of the execution of Anne Boleyn. I did not plan that, but of all days to decide to go there...how random is that?

8. Also, speaking of the Tower - the way they put you on Conveyer belts to see the crown jewels is genius. Other museums, take note.

9. I stumbled into this macaron shop in Paris and this couple was in front of me buying (you guessed it) macarons. The guy says to the lady behind the counter, "Guess where we're from!" in an American accent and I facepalmed. Counter lady didn't respond and American guy let the awkward silence breathe for a moment before loudly and proudly declaring, "The USA!"

Counter lady just kind of went, "...oh" and handed him his macarons.

Undeterred, USA guy tried again. "Have you ever heard of Las Vegas?"

"No," responds counter lady.

"Well, we live in Utah, but we tell people Las Veags cause more people have heard of that," USA guy replies.

Counter lady gave this whole exchange exactly what it deserved, which was nothing.

But yea - American tourists in Paris are really something to behold.

10. Speaking of Paris and dumb Americans - I don't know what was wrong with my brain, but I could not stop responding to people speaking French to me with Spanish. Especially difficult was when I wanted to say "yes" to someone and kept saying "sì" instead of "oui." So embarrassing.

11. Went to this brewery in Brussels before we got on the train to Paris and there was an entire high-school field trip in the brewery who then went to the bar afterwards. Belgium is no joke 🤣.

12. First place I ate at in Paris was a place called "Balls!" They served mac and cheese and meatballs. That was my first Parisian meal. The food capital of the world (aside from Italy) and thats where I wound up.

(Also why do they eat so late in Paris? I gotta go to bed, people!)

13. They dress the litrle Mannekin Pis statue up sometimes. First day we got to Brussels, it was dressed like a butterfly. The next day, it was back to normal. I find that endearing(ly weird).

I probably have so many more highlights or just interesting notes, but that was just a few I could think of off the top of my head!

[andydrysdalerogers]

Following Team Orders ~ Las Vegas

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Olivia Williams

Summary: Olivia Williams is Formula One royalty. Her father is a racing legend and all Liv wants is to be one of only six women in the world to have raced in the most elite racing division in the world. When she finally gets the chance, she has to not only take on a male dominated sport, but her past, her teammate and a life beyond the track that she was not ready for. She just has to follow team orders but what happens when one man challenges her on and off the racing line...

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: A-N-G-S-T!!! eventual smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers, love triangle (if you squint) misogamy, fluff, racing accidents, an asshole Steve Rogers (you'll see what i mean); parental death

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series MasterList - Main Masterlist

Two weeks prior… Saturday 

There are two things Ransom hates: losing and Steve Rogers. The man had been a thorn in his side for the last couple of years, almost beating him for championships, almost having his girl. If he thought he could murder the bastard and get away with it, he would. He was even costing him sleep.  He had dreamt that he had Liv underneath him, moaning his name like she used to when Rogers interrupted them in her trailer.  As soon as he saw the fucker, he woke up, hard and pissed.  He decided to take a walk around the hotel.  As he went to check his phone, he heard a door open.  He moved behind a doorway and peak over.  

And fury consumed him. 

Rogers was coming out the door, hair disheveled, big smile on his face.  Small hands pull him back and turn him around. The couple kiss and Ransom sees it as an opportunity to fuck Rogers by showing it to Liv. Except when Rogers pulls away, it's Liv he sees in the room.  He took a series of photos and decided that this was the perfect opportunity.  

After Ransom gets his coffee, he sent a message to Lance, Lloyd and Suzanne. 

Have news. Meet in my room. 

As Ransom stood in the window, looking over the Mexico City skyline, he smiled to himself. A plan was forming, and he was confident it could work.  A knock brought him out of his thoughts, and he went to the door. He opened it and ushered everyone in. “What is going on Ranny?” Suzanne whined. 

“Shut the fuck up Suzy,” Ransom growled. “I have some important shit so can it.”  He picked up his phone and pulled up the photos.  “I found a way to fuck over Rogers and get rid of Olivia.”  He showed the group the pictures.  

“Holy fuck!” Lance looked up at Ransom. “Why are you smiling?” 

“Because if the FIA made Rogers sign the same contract as me, there is a non-fraternization clause. If that’s the case, then this,” picking up the phone, “is our way to getting rid of Rogers, Olivia, Barnes and the whole Red Bull team. We can pick up their sponsors, their money and really be the top team in F1. And if it doesn’t, well then it just fucks them over and I’m ok with that too.” Ransom bite into the Danish he had.  

Lloyd started to laugh. “Damm sunshine, you are going to make Mercedes unstoppable.” He looked at the photos.  “I have a contact at ESPN. Let’s do this. That little beauty insulted me, that prick almost has the championship.” Lloyd growled. “Time for this love story to end.”  

Las Vegas – Thursday before race 

Andy is sitting inside the main office for FIA at the Las Vegas track.  He was sitting, staring out to Las Vegas skyline, wondering what fresh hell he was being sent to.  The door opened but he didn’t turn. “Mr. Barber?” That’s when he turned.  

Jenny Williams stood in the doorway.  “Jenny?” 

“Hi Andy.” She looked tired but determined.  

He hugged the oldest Williams girl. “What are you doing here Jen?” 

“I’m representing Livie for the investigation.  You can only represent one of them, according to the guidelines, but we need to figure out if they violated their contracts with Red Bull or the FIA.”  

“Right.”  Andy looked down at the binders in front of him. “I’ve looked over Rogers’s contract. There is nothing in his contract that states he can’t have a consensual relationship with another driver. Steve’s reputation has been clean.”  

“Then why are the reports indicating he’s violating a morality clause?”  Jenny pulled a report from ESPN.  

“Contracts have a behavioral morality clause, like for drunken behavior, fighting, that sort of thing.” Andy stood up and started to pace. “The only one I’ve heard who had an amendment to theirs was Drysdale when Olivia joined the drivers’ league. Since they had history, the FIA added the clause, under Drysdale’s objections, of course.”  

Jenny wrote that down.  “Liv doesn’t have that clause, but this still won’t lose its teeth.  They are going to call for collusion.”  

“They are teammates.  Their main goal is to win, for the team to win.  It's bullshit Jenny.”  Andy was fuming.  

“And that’s the argument I will start with.” Jenny put her pen down. “But since they were hiding, it looks bad.” 

Andy put his hands on his hips and bowed his head.  “I know Steve.  I know how much he hated her before he gave into his feelings. And Liv, she just wouldn’t hook up with another driver. I don’t know how they can suddenly love each other.”  

Jenny could see how much Andy cared for his drivers but was blind. “You obviously didn’t see them at dad’s funeral.  Steve was her support when she couldn’t keep going. When she needed someone to take care of her when she felt all alone. I know he was there, at the hospital, after her accident.  When he came in to see her and said goodbye to her because he wanted her to succeed.” 

“He did?” 

“Of course, he did.  Andy, they have been going in circles because of misunderstandings and assumptions.  They fought their way to this point.” Jenny massaged her temples.  “Red Bull records all of the team's radio transmissions, right?” 

“Yes,” Andy said slowly.  

“Perfect.  And can Steve and Liv communicate to each other?” 

“No, they can only hear if we open a channel to them both, but that rarely happens.”  

“What about in Austin?” 

Andy riffled through some papers.  “Here, the transcript of the race.  Liv and Steve never talked.  The only time they were even close to each other in the race was when Liv passed him after he spun.  He asked if he could catch her.”  

“Then this is proof that they didn’t conspire.”  Jenny closed her notebook.  “Dad would have wanted them to win.  Not just the race or the championship.  But in love too.”  

As Jenny and Andy were meeting, Liv, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam, Frank and Tony were all in Liv’s suite, discussing the inquiry.  

“It’s not fair,” Liv said as she paced the length of the room.  Everyone else was sitting, watching her go back and forth.  “They are doing this because I’m a woman.”  

“Baby, if that were true, you could sue the pants off the organization,” Steve replied in an attempt to calm her.  

“Bug, come on, sit,” Frank said, patting the seat between himself and Steve.  

“I can’t.”  Olivia was pacing to keep other emotions from emerging. “What if they say my points are invalid.  What if they say Steve’s are?  That would mean he would lose the championship and then we would lose the team one.  I would be a pariah and I’ll never get to race again.” 

Nat sighed.  “Liv, none of that is going to happen. Jenny is here to help with that, and you know she’ll put that big lawyer brain into full gear.  Andy is going to make sure nothing happens.  You just have to stay calm.”  

“Maybe I should quit.” Olivia’s words stunned the room.  “Maybe if I wasn’t here anymore, they will stop the inquiry and let Steve keep his points and then…” she swallowed... “then he could finish the season and win.”  She finally stopped pacing when she reached the window and looked at the city below.  

“Could you guys give us the room, please?”  Steve’s voice was stern, and no one questioned the request.  Only Bucky stopped to squeeze Steve’s shoulder before leaving the room.  “Olivia, come sit with me.”  She refused to acknowledge him.  “Olivia, right now.”  She looked up and he could see for the first time that there were tears in her eyes.  “Oh baby,” his tone softens.  He could see how much this was tearing her up inside.  He went to her and wrapped his arms around her as she finally cried.  

“Stevie, I didn’t mean… this all my…” he cut her off.  

“Sweetheart, this is not your fault. We didn’t do anything wrong. The press is blowing this up because of who we are.” He kissed her forehead. “Baby, look at me.”  Her pink-ringed eyes looked up at him. “Our life, this relationship goes beyond the track.  I would do anything for you. I would walk away right now just to see you smile.  The championship doesn’t mean anything if you are not right there with me. I love you so much that it hurts to be away from you.  So don’t quit, don’t leave. I’ll follow you anywhere.”  

“Really?” 

“Livie, you are my endgame.”   

“I am?” Her voice cracked.  

“You are baby.  I knew that from our first kiss.” 

Liv smiled.  “I knew from that moment too.”  

Steve kissed her softly, making sure to be gentle, to let her feel all the love he had for her.  This girl who came in like a breath of fresh air.  He could lie all he wanted but their first kiss wasn’t when he fell in love with her.  It was the first day they really met.  Her eyes blazed at him, showing the spark of fierceness, the way she didn’t back down, because she knew her worth.  She put him under her spell right then.  No matter how much he fought it, he has been in love with Olivia Williams for far longer than anyone knew.  She was his home.  He would gladly give up racing to be with her and help her achieve every goal.   

They stayed in that night. They ordered room service and kept to themselves, needing those final moments of peace before the flurry of press and fans descended upon them.  

Steve took his time, taking her apart, piece by piece, as he made love to his girl. It was soft, it was sweet, it was everything they needed that night.  As she slept, a sheet covering her torso, Steve looked out to the Vegas night sky. The flashing lights of the strip combined with the muted sounds provided the perfect lullaby that lulled Liv to sleep but kept Steve awake.  He wanted nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare.  He wanted Liv and himself to just race like before and finish on top, just like he planned.  He had no idea what was instore for them on the track.  He just hoped that they still had each other at the end of it.  

Andy started Sunday with a team meeting.  “I know this weekend has been rough on everyone.” He saw the crestfallen face of Liv and Steve, who sat in the back, holding hands. “Especially our drivers.  I have spoken to the Bartons, and they are standing behind Steve and Olivia. Our contracts don’t specifically state that they couldn’t have a relationship and we are standing behind that.”  

He cleared his throat as some of the crew began to speak.  “Just a sec. With that said, this doesn’t mean the FIA won’t be investigating.  They have informed us that they will start after today’s race.  What they find and what punishments will be endured are unknown, but I know this, we will appeal against any negative decisions made towards the drivers and the team.  We are one family here and we will continue that way.  Drivers, let’s get you warmed up. Crew chiefs, a word.  Everyone else, please do your final checks before the race starts.”  

Liv heads back into her garage and climbs up to her secret loft area.  She pulls out her phone and scrolls through all of the headlines.  

F1 PRINCESS IN RELATIONSHIP WITH RED BULL STAR 

IS ROGERS USING WILLIAMS HEIRESS TO STAY ON TOP? 

OLIVIA WILLIAMS: IS SHE BOUNCING FROM DRIVER TO DRIVER? SOURCES SAY SHE IS USING ROGERS TO GET TO DRYSDALE 

ARE THE NEW EAR FEMAL DRIVERS DISTRACTING TO THE SPORT OF F1 

OLIVIA AND STEVE: RACING’S NEW ROYAL COUPLE UNDER INVESTIGATION 

WILL THEY LAST? LIV WILLIAMS AND STEVE ROGERS IN TROUBLE ALREADY, CLAIMS SOURCE 

Liv could feel the tears threatening to fall.  One article accused her of using her father’s name while another claimed that she was using Steve to take his spot.  Another said she was doing it to get back at Ransom and how heartbroken he is. Others say she was paying off officials for her win.  

“You know,” her head whipped around to see her favorite ocean blue eyes staring at her, “if you let them get into your head, you are just going to prove them right.”  Steve crawled as best he could to laid down beside her.  

“Steve, they are saying I didn’t win on my own.  That Andy paid people off so I could win.  How could they say that?  Why would they tell these lies?” 

“I don’t know, love.”  He tucked her hair behind her ear.  “But you have to ignore it. You need to put your game face on and show them how wrong they are.”  

“Promise me.  Promise me that you won’t leave me when they tear me down.”  

“Never.” He kissed her. “C’mon, let’s kick this field’s ass and show them we are an unstoppable force.”  

The race went well for Red Bull with Steve and Liv finishing one-three with Charles in the middle.  The win was somber, with Liv just going through the motions.  As the drivers sat down in the press room, the tension became palpable.  The standard F1 reporters asked the first questions, like how the race was, was the track good, stuff like that.  It wasn’t until the floor was opened to the other reporters that Steve figured out what was wrong.  

The first reporter stood, “Adam Schefter, ESPN.  Congratulations Steve on the win.”  

“Thanks.”  

“Was it team orders that kept you in the lead?” 

“No, no orders were given.” Steve clenched his jaw.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Liv visibly tense.  

“Williams had the chance to pass a couple of times.  Was she told to stand down?” 

Steve wasn’t sure what to say before Liv spoke up. “I wasn’t told to do anything.  Rogers is an excellent driver, and I couldn’t get around him.”  

The next reporter, Maria Smith from AP Sports moved on to Charles.  Liv zoned out of the question until she heard. “Is it true that you had a previous relationship with Miss Williams?” Her heart stopped.  

Charles took a sip of water to calm himself before answering.  “I don’t know what that question has to do with the race.”  He cocked an eyebrow at the woman, who blushed and sat.  

“I would like that answer,” a man from NBC Sports stood up. “Did you have a relationship with Miss Williams that could affect whether she allowed you to score more points?” 

Liv bit her lip to stop from screaming at the man and keep the tears at bay. Charles looked at Liv to see her broken expression and grew angry.  “Olivia and I are friends, just like most of the drivers here are. She wouldn't give us an edge if she can help it.  She is here to race and to win, that’s it.  This line of questions is inappropriate.”  

“So, you are saying that there is not a relationship between you and her, but you are ok that a relationship formed between her and Rogers?”  The reporter was egging them on, and Steve knew it.  

He stood up, palms down on the desk in front of him.  “Our relationship is none of your business.  Olivia and I...” he stopped to look at her and she watched him with heartbroken eyes. “Olivia and I are in a committed relationship.  I love this woman, and I will not sit here and allow you to try and take her apart. She is a fantastic racer, a history maker, a trailblazer.  She has done it all while men like you tried to keep her down.  Fuck, even I tried to keep her down, but she fought back for everything she has earned.  She is respected among her colleagues, and she has done her job. These interviews are over.”   

He stepped back, went to Olivia and took her hand and walked her out of the press room, while questions were flung at them.  Charles followed and Olivia buried her head in Steve’s chest.  “I am so sorry Livie,” Charles said.  

“Thank you for standing up for her,” Steve said, when he could feel the sobs coming from her.  

“We’ll all stand up for her, punk.”  Steve looked up to see Bucky with the other drivers.  They all patted Liv’s back as they marched into the press room.  Steve heard Bucky as he declared with the other drivers that they would no longer be interviewing them bar official statements for their treatment of Olivia. Conspicuously absent are the Mercedes drivers.  

As the group walked away, Andy and Jenny came up to the couple.  “Great race, guys but I have some news.” Andy swallowed.  “The FIA has decided to open an official investigation. They have a complaint and, well, with the pictures, they had no other choice. I’m sorry Liv but you are suspended pending the conclusion of the investigation.”  

“But there are only two races left,” Steve complained.  

“I understand but...” Liv silenced him with her hand.  

“It’s ok Andy.  Did we ask for expedition?” Jenny answered with a nod. “Well, then I will head home to California.  Doesn’t look like any reason to travel to Brazil at this point.”  Steve gripped her hand and walked with her.  

“I won’t leave your side Love Bug.”  

“But the championship...” 

“There is nothing bigger than us right now.”  

Taglist

@patzammit @jennmurawski13-writes @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74. @tinkerbelle67

[alienzines]

"As long as you swear you're not one of them..."

⌱         census questions            ⌱  

where are you from and where did you live prior to the crash? do you have an accent from one of those locations? 

"I'm originally from Las Vegas. But I have my mom's family in San Francisco. Not sure how my mom and dad landed there, but it's my hometown and it was all I knew 'till I went to college. To me I don't have a strong accent, but it's all relative, man, like I'd visit my family on my dad's side in Húsavík and to them my American accent was strong."

do they have any distinctive scars, tattoos, or marks?

"Tattoos? Man I have so many! I have Ursa Minor on my-" he puts his fingers up to see which one makes the 'L' shape, "-r.. right ankle. I have the tarot card "The Magician" on my right wrist, with like stars going up my arm, on my other shoulder I have a Valkyrie, Medusa's on my back because she's awesome, I have Canis Major - the constellation - on my chest, with plants all to the left of it. Ooh and the Norse tree of life Yggdrasil on my..." he has to think, "left thigh."

were you flying with anyone? have you been able to find them alive? are you responsible for anyone other than yourself?

"I was on the flight with my dad and my son, and I feel responsible for both of them in a way."

do you believe rescue is possible at this point? why or why not?

"No, if the government or the aliens, or (as I'm, inclined to believe) a collaboration of both of them want us here, well. They're not going to let us get found unless they want that. It's not on the agenda."

what did you dream about last night?

"I dreamt that I was on a hover scooter evading the teddy bear police because I stole the secret formula on how to make peeps. Anyway, I was just about to get caught but I was rescued by a velociraptor wearing a flat cap. He had a brummy accent and he was called Terry."

do you prefer fighting with your fists or using diplomacy?

"Yeah man, I mean like... make love not war, right. I'd rather not punch something unless I have to, right?"

[autisticsuperpower]

Part III: The Living ❤️

So here I am putting that updated portrait back together.

And this time, I am reconciling with my past.

A lot of it was not my fault.

I was young, naive, and hurting.

I did not know my own strength to make it out alive.

Outer and inner.

The first piece to put the portrait back together is to live Authentically Autistic.

Take the mask off, throw it away from the face of the earth.

Moving to Los Angeles was significant. The breath of a fresh start and second chance awaited my arrival.

In a dream I had, the first happy emotions emerges from the hole in my heart. Joy. Excitement. Love. Acceptance

Then emerged new friends I hadn’t met yet. Some of whom I still care for and they return the same for me.

Best of all, a woman who would one day hopefully love me, not just for the outside looks and desire, but the inner gifts I can bring to a relationship.

I dreamt of happiness, and I fought for it.

I thought I was done fighting for happiness when I graduated high school. I made it out alive.

But as I learned these last few months, the fight’s never over.

Sure, I’m in a much better position now.

Sure, my career life, my romantic life, and my professional life is blossoming, like an endless amount of poppies sprouting in the mountains. 

And I’m so thankful for that. 

But my personal life is still not 100% back to where it once was yet.

However, it is a work in progress. As I always say, I am under construction.

When I moved to LA, I went to college and earned not one, but two degrees.

Performed my butt off on stage and also had a really active social life.

More social in 4 years than in my entire life, and most importantly, was accepted for being Autistic and different.

But that was only step 1 of finding my happiness again.

Step 2 was finding work and navigating life post school.

Finding my way upon the yellow brick road and being pulled down different paths.

Teaching young kids to find their passions, then working with adults to find their happiness in work, and now, helping neurodiverse adults land their dream careers.

Step 3 was launching this blog.

Beginning to untie my complicated past and pushing it out for the world to read and hear.

Knot after knot after knot, freeing me from years of self-doubt, hurt, sorrow, and isolation.

Talking about topics that I’ve never talked about and yet now mean value more than ever.

And now with Step 4, it’s simple.

Letting life do the driving.

Putting it into 4 wheel drive.

Starting a podcast and inviting others to share their Autistic journeys.

Becoming a supporting cast member on a 3 time Emmy winning Netflix show, which by the way, we have 4 nominations this year.

Rediscovering my passion for performing by joining a neurodiverse performing arts group in Hollywood.

Getting my first place together with the woman I love.

Seeing a therapist every week.

And working on myself to get better and back to the happier self people know me in real life.

I’m continuing to take each day at a time.

Some days are good.

Some days are the opposite.

And some, well, you know it’s in the middle.

But that’s life, and it’s beautiful.

My grandfather once said that life is not always straight. It has it’s zig-zags and its collision courses, but somehow, life always works itself out and keeps pressing on.

That truly is accurate.

I’m ready to heal again.

I’m ready to continue to fight for my deserved happiness again.

And as I finish putting that updated portrait back together, I find the last piece.

The piece that symbolizes the strength and the readiness to wake up and see another day.

The portrait is now back together, and it is Authentically Autistic this time.

It’s good enough for me. 💚

[longclawislightbringer]

✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

Hello, lovely readers. It's the end of the year, so it's time to review what I worked on. I wanted to finish a screenplay in 2023, and while that didn't happen, I did write some other things!

November

Rolling Stone Issue 513

Rating: T

Fandom: Stranger Things

Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Summary: College Freshman Chrissy Cunningham's best friend, Eddie, is a rockstar. So what if she's in love with him, and he's writing gorgeous metal love songs for some cool chick in LA? She'll still be his number one fan, supporting from the sidelines, even if that means breaking her own heart.

On the night before the band's first show opening for Metallica—at which Chrissy plans to surprise them—her roommate shows her an interview in the latest issue of Rolling Stone that changes everything.

December

I uh… discovered that I never actually published the last two chapters to a fic I wrote like fourteen years ago, so I've been posting backdated chapters to AO3, intending to finally finish it. It's obviously written by a kid, but if you want to read some of my early work, you can find it here:

Of Evenings in the Woods

Rating: G

Fandom: Liberty's Kids

Relationships: James Hiller/Sarah Phillips

Summary: Sarah Phillips hasn't seen James Hiller in seven years. What happens when they're reunited? How about if we add her slightly insane best friend, her supposed true love, and a hungry Henri into the mix?

What's Next?

In the new year, I've got a few things going on. My current WIPs are:

Aforementioned Of Evenings in the Woods. I believe I have three chapters left to edit.

I Dreamt of You- Cahir/Ciri one-shot. Alternate universe. Nilfgaard never went to war with Cintra. Cahir dreams of a woman he's never met; Emyhr arranges a marriage for his stubborn daughter. Meant to be very dreamy and sort of a style experiment for me. I went for a walk last week and got some lovely ideas for this, so I'm excited to see how it works.

After that, I've got a host of ideas, but I'm hoping to finally finish my screenplay and start working on a book! (And also finish Hey There Demons. And Petticoats & Roses. I have way too many on-hold projects that haunt my dreams). My New Year's Resolution is to write 50 words daily, and I will hold myself to that. Hopefully, that will mean things will get done faster.

Anyway, that's all for now! See you in the new year.

[musicarenagh]

Unveiling Olla: The Heartfelt Story Behind 'Down in the Deep' Olla over the years has grown drastically, and with each song she produces, she reveals her capabilities, and this time her latest single “Down in the deep” does all the magic. “Down in the deep” is an emotional song, although the lyrics were penned by Olla herself, the lyrics can be enjoyed and relatable.. Olla discussed her musical journey during an interview with Mister Styx of Musicarenagh were she disclosed the choice of this stage name is also not accidental; it appeals melodiousness and familiarity which are characteristic of sincere link to artistic creativity of the singer. Seeking inspiration in global travels and different cultures, she creates music that tugs at a person’s heart. Although Olla was born into a family without any kind of musical background, she began playing music at a young age and eventually went on to become an extremely popular artist. It all started with some music studies in Los Angeles that included singing lessons. Her music path still grows. During the interview, Olla shared what gravitated her towards music production, she said; It was no one in particular. The idea of being an artist fascinated me, especially in childhood. The excitement I felt watching someone on stage grew into a serious passion, and into a full-time occupation ; Collaborative session of the team as well as melody evolve into dynamic products is the way she develops the works. The music by Olla is a true representation of what she has been through and how she feels, which carries meaningful though uplifting words that speak out loudly to adults mostly. Stay connected to learn more about Olla’s career path. Listen to Down In The Deep below https://open.spotify.com/track/24O2yJTlsrRb8hINCqO1a5 Follow Olla on Spotify Youtube Instagram What is your stage name?
 Olla. Is there a story behind your stage name?
 I chose Olla as my stage name because I wanted it to be close to my real name. It sounds nice and is easy to remember. Where do you find inspiration?
 I believe that life is full of inspiration; you just need to see it. For me, traveling is a great source of inspiration. Learning about various cultures always opens up something undiscovered for me. What was the role of music in the early years of your life?
 It was the main source of entertainment, of course, but mainly it was a great passion. I dreamt of pursuing a career in music as I grew up. And, even as a kid, I saw music as my life-path. Are you from a musical or artistic family? No, my family was not connected to music or any artistic sphere. It was a challenge for me when I started pursuing an artistic career, but I'm happy to be the first one to open that industry for my family. Who inspired you to be a part of the music industry?
 It was no one in particular. The idea of being an artist fascinated me, especially in childhood. The excitement I felt watching someone on stage grew into a serious passion, and into a full-time occupation ;) How did you learn to sing/write/to play?
 Singing was something I did since childhood. Although I didn't start doing music at an early age due to family-related history, I went to study music in LA as soon as I had the chance as an adult. Since then I am regularly having vocal classes with my coach. Excelling and developing the skills you have is essential ;) What was the first concert that you ever went to, and who did you see perform?
 Honestly, I don’t remember the first concert I attended. The latest one was Beyonce’s this year, and it was just magical. How could you describe your music?
 My music reflects all my feelings, thoughts, and experiences. I aim to convey deep yet positive messages that make my audience feel good, remember something nice, or motivate them to be optimistic. I feel it might be more relevant for an adult audience. Also, in all my songs, I try to use the sounds of ethnic or live instruments, as I believe this adds a sophisticated touch to my productions.

[caption id="attachment_53045" align="alignnone" width="1334"] Unveiling Olla: The Heartfelt Story Behind 'Down in the Deep'[/caption] Describe your creative process.
 I brainstorm and jam a lot with my team at the studio. Often during rehearsals, we come up with melodies that we develop on the spot. Once the skeleton is there, we all sleep on it and come back with fresh suggestions for harmonies and production. What musician do you admire most and why?
 I deeply admire Bruno Mars for his versatility and boundless charisma. Beyoncé stands as a true icon in both music and fashion. Did your style evolve since the beginning of your career?
 I believe I’m still evolving in my style. I’ve tried quite a few different genres this year, and I feel like I’m to find my perfect and organic sound soon. Who do you see as your main competitor?
 As I’m only at the beginning of my artistic path, I believe it’s a little bit too early to talk about competitors. Overall, the whole industry is very competitive. I already have gained a certain portion of my audience, and that is what matters to me. What are your interests outside of music? I am a big fan of psychology. Understanding how people think, increasing my own self-awareness, and looking deeper into why people do things is very useful and extremely interesting. I also do a lot of sports. If it wasn't a music career, what would you be doing?
 I cannot imagine my life without music. Being an artist was my dream, so I am pursuing it. In any case, I believe I would still be in the music industry, even if not in the role of an artist. What is the biggest problem you have encountered in the journey of music?
 Songwriter's block, I guess. There are, unfortunately, moments when it’s just hard to catch the flow. This is both challenging and frustrating. If you could change one thing in the music industry, what would it be? I believe there are not enough opportunities for starting singers to really get themselves out there. As a starting musician, you face a lot of obstacles on your way, and at the same time, you have to compete with the big whales of the industry. I believe that streaming platforms and big media channels should probably dedicate some attention to the rising stars. Why did you choose this as the title of this project?
 “Down In The Deep” is the central phrase of the song. It implies all the complexities of our feelings and emotions. It’s hard sometimes to understand yourself, but when it comes to relationships, even obvious things might need a deeper analysis. Finding the core of the problems is hard work, as this core is hidden down in the deep. https://open.spotify.com/artist/7md0bWFAdF0j5nK6pdw97a?si=u6IkIRAtRkuZqRUzV3YbDw What are your plans for the coming months?
I could truly call my plans grandiose. There are following releases planned, as well as shoots. But you’ll see everything when the time comes. Do you have any artistic collaboration plans?
 I do actually! I would like to keep it a surprise for the moment. But what I can tell you now is that it will be a collaboration with an Italian artist. What message would you like to give to your fans? I want to thank all of them deeply for supporting my music and my artistry! I always read all the comments, and I appreciate honest feedback! And stay tuned; I have a lot of things prepared for you.

[theboywiththewaves]

Travel Diary Entry # 5 - Strange and Wonderful Dreams (and laryngitis)

Last night I dreamt of a place that can't possibly be real. It was a place with glowing blue pools and great trees set on a cliff overlooking a sea so clear that the vibrant corals under the waves were visible. The pools were shaped like lotus petals and arrayed around a central gazebo where one could look out at the sea. The space was terraced and there were additional infinity pools located on tiers below the main lotus pools. The great trees almost completely shaded the whole place, with only dappled sunlight making its way to the ground. A type of lichen drooped down from the trees with brilliant wisteria-like blooms. There was also a pleasant warm and fragrant breeze lightly blowing at all times.

In the dream this place existed in India and my dad and I were visiting as tourists. The blue pools are reached through a resort that (in terms of architecture) resembles the Getty Center in LA. We reached the pools at sunset and both of us were completely entranced by the beauty. There were many other visitors from around the world here and everyone seemed to be operating in a kind of euphoric daze. Me being me, I decided to take out my camera to take pictures of the place but no matter what I tried - my camera kept malfunctioning. I was incredibly frustrated so one of the other visitors suggested I use my phone to take pictures. When I tried that - my camera app started bugging out! It was as if this place wasn't meant to be pictured. While I was laser focused on trying to document the place, I did have random conversations with the other visitors and I noticed some of them were behaving strangely. One of them told me that the place made the "mally" or malleable, and that a lot of relationships failed in the place because temptation was too strong. After she told me this, I literally watched a couple drift apart as they paired up with separate visitors and went in opposite directions.

In any case, I "wake up" from this dream and then tell my dad what I saw. I then open my phone and go through my gallery, where miraculously - there are pictures and even videos of the place! My dad, however, has no recollection of this place and suggests I created the images and videos through AI in my sleep - a kind of strange sleepwalking. I accept this and then begin telling someone (who happens be to Jenna Lyons, the fashion designer and new RHONY housewife) about the dream - who then suggests I consume a plum covered in a strange fungus to see worlds even more beautiful than the one I saw.

And then I wake up again. With laryngitis and the complete loss of my voice.

If dreams are messages from our subconscious, wtf was all that about?? Did I just catch a glimpse of some kind of fairy world?

(the pictures here aren't accurate to what I saw, but I wanted to see what midjourney would come up with when given the dream description)

[skyler10fic]

WonderGirls: Ch. 3

Summary: The mutual pining intensifies! Which makes Maria Hill's job harder. :)

Notes: If some of this sounds familiar, it was a fic teaser during All Ships Week. Much of it is also based on a song from Julia Wolf, In My Room, despite all the chapter titles here being TSwift songs for consistency. Song-ception!

Read on Ao3

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

Shooting continued in LA for weeks in various locations, but mostly on the soundstage at the studio. One day, between scenes, Daisy went back to her trailer on the studio lot. In a moment of cringe she hadn’t experienced since bombing her Crazier Rich Asians: the TV Series audition, Daisy typed her own name into an incognito browser tab. She would never admit it to her gorgeous, sexy, crush-turned-coworker-turned-friend Carol, but she was curious to see what Carol would find if she looked her up. There was no way the elite, up-and-coming Oscar darling Carol Danvers had the same level of background knowledge of Daisy that everyone in the world had about Carol herself. They were getting to a point where the information imbalance was weird, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Carol would try to remedy it. Or maybe Daisy was just obsessing and overthinking again.

The search results were nothing Daisy hadn’t seen, of course, but looking at it now, she tried to imagine what would interest Carol and what would be a turn-off. As she pondered this, she looked around her trailer and saw the jacket Carol had left on the sofa. It was an accident, of course, but Daisy imagined what it would be like for it to belong there, for Carol to leave things here in her trailer—or even at Daisy’s house—on purpose, knowing she’d be back.

A knock sounded at the trailer door. It was Carol herself, not an assistant, with her magazine-cover demure smile: “Sorry to bother you in our off time, but I think I left my jacket here?”

“Yeah! Hi! Come on in,” Daisy greeted. She subtly shut her laptop so Carol wouldn’t see her googling herself. Explaining the search was to see what Carol would hypothetically find would be even worse than just coming off like a self-obsessed publicity-slurping narcissist. Luckily, they had no reason to reopen Daisy’s laptop as they chatted, burning away their free time until the next shoot.

—--------

Carol couldn’t tell Daisy the real reason she had left the jacket in her trailer. It hadn’t been forgetfulness or hurry, but an excuse to see her again. She’d had a crush on Daisy’s TV show character for years, but now knowing the real woman in person and seeing her hotness up close every day was a level of attraction and growing affection she hadn’t experienced before. She dreamt almost nightly—as the weeks turned to months, and their friendly coworker chats turned to real friendship—about what it would be like to wake up with Daisy’s clothes on the floor, Daisy in her bed, perhaps a permanent drawer in her bedroom. Even once, she dreamt she was a bride in an empty chapel, hoping it would be Daisy opening the door to walk up the aisle next.

Things took a particularly dark turn one night as she dreamt she died and was watching her own funeral, but the crucial thing her dream self needed to know was if Daisy was there and what she would say.

Carol woke before dawn, slipped on a long cardigan, and went for a walk in the woods that lined her expansive backyard. She had everything she could have wanted: a career every actress dreams about, a gorgeous house, and finally friends in the industry. But as selfish and juvenile as it felt, she needed one more thing: just a call from Daisy. A call that said everything between them was real, and not only in Carol’s dreams.

—-----------------

Due to previous scheduling commitments, Carol spent a week on a TV show set, making a cameo that would have audiences cheering, but all she could think about was being away from the film and from Daisy. Luckily, when she was done, the weekend began with a cast reunion of sorts as the film studio arranged a dinner cruise for the main actors and crew. The only condition was that they had to give one-on-one interviews for the behind-the-scenes coverage of the film’s production for promo.

Daisy emerged from her interview inside the boat’s cabin to see Carol standing on the deck at the front of the boat alone, gazing out at the glow of the city skyline and the silence of the night.

“Is it weird to say that I missed you this week?” Daisy asked.

“I hope not,” Carol confessed. “I missed you too.”

Daisy smiled in satisfaction and turned to face the ocean. She moved to the pointed front and spread her wings out in a poor imitation of the Titanic. “I’m flying, Jack!”

Carol laughed and took her position holding Daisy’s waist, despite no risk of her falling overboard. When Daisy lowered her arms and turned around, it took a moment for Carol to realize how close they were, that she was staring in awe into Daisy’s dark eyes, that if she just closed the gap between them…

Carol realized this wasn’t a dream and backed away with a jolt. The tension of the serious moment melted back into silliness, and the other actresses joined them, with fresh drinks and snacks, to chat and party the night away. She didn’t miss the way Daisy looked at her at the end of the night, though. There had to be something there between them.

The long-established industry titans told her she had to choose: being closeted with a promised room full of Oscars or being proudly out as a lesbian and free to have a girlfriend but with a forgettable career. Her decade and a half of hard work, and the work and investment of all those around her to get her here, would be in vain. But at least she’d be free. Free of hiding, and free to love openly. If those were truly the options on the table, suffice it to say she envied how easy Daisy made it look to leave the closet behind.

—--------------

Daisy had wondered how she could miss a coworker, or even a friend, who had only been gone a week. But she did. Every day while Carol was away. And it got worse. After the dinner cruise, she felt it all of the time they weren’t together.

It was too soon now, but one day, Daisy would be brave enough to tell Carol the truth. And maybe it would end up in a tearful rejection and disaster, not to mention a tense working relationship for their movie that could spill out to affect Daisy’s reputation, branding her difficult to work with at a critical step in her career. Or maybe it would end up with Carol’s things in her bedroom from nights of pleasure turned into days of happily ever after romance.

Could an ending like that be possible in the cutthroat town where so many dreams came to die? Did they have what it took to brave the public eye? And more importantly, could fairy tales come true in Hollywood even with no cameras rolling or script to follow, when it’s your real life?

—--------------

The action scenes were physically challenging but provided an emotional outlet for the stress on set. Budget demanded a faster pace, so everything had to go perfectly in as few takes as possible. The kids were under stricter rules for the amount of time they could work, along with on-set schooling, and the animal sidekicks needed special attention and training tricks to adjust to the director’s wishes.

“Everyone but the kids, cats, and trainers, out!!!” Maria Hill, the film’s director, shouted. “If we’re going to have alien cats invade this school, it has to be done in the next three hours. Out, out! Go to your trailers, go to Starbucks, I don’t care. We need to focus!”

Carol and Daisy raised their eyebrows, and a few other actors checked their watches and phones. That was not the plan for today, but then, by now, the plan was out the window.

Daisy bumped Carol’s shoulder with her own as they walked away from the building. “Want to run our lines for the city hall scene in my trailer?”

Carol furrowed her brow. “Isn’t that scene mostly flying around and fights?”

“I mean the dialogue after that.” Daisy shrugged. “We don’t have to. Just something to do.”

“Yeah, something to do! Good to be prepared.” Carol nodded. They both kept their eyes on the path in front of them back to the trailers and greeted Daisy’s assistant, Darcy, who was working inside while waiting for her return.

“I’m headed to a meeting with the rest of Daisy’s team. But first, a photo for Insta?” Darcy asked with a wink. “Good for promo!”

“Great idea!” Carol agreed, to Daisy’s surprise. They held up action figures of their characters, which had been delivered to Daisy’s trailer that morning while they were out. After a few photos, Daisy played with her character to fistbump Carol’s. “Go WonderGirls!”

Carol laughed and reciprocated in her serious superhero character voice. “We make a great team, Super Skye. The bad guys didn’t stand a chance.”

Daisy smiled up at Carol and then realized Darcy was recording a video on her phone. To the camera, Daisy said, “We’re so excited for you to see our real characters in WonderGirls, out next summer.”

Carol flashed her Hollywood smile. “We promise the acting will be much better.”

Daisy laughed and slapped at Carol’s arm.

“We’re nothing without our writers. CLEARLY,” Daisy giggled. “It takes a whole team here at Wonder. We hope to show you more soon. Bye!”

“Byeee!” Carol waved to the camera.

Darcy lowered the phone and gushed. “That was amazing. The studio is going to love this! I’ll get this to the marketing team while I’m at the meeting. Unless you need anything while I’m here?”

“Nope, I think we’re all good. Yeah?” Daisy asked Carol, who nodded. “Thanks, Darcy.”

Now that they were alone, Daisy plopped down on the couch. “Take a seat, Danvers.”

She gestured to the other end of the couch. Carol sat with perfect posture, script in hand.

Daisy observed her in open amusement. “You’re not getting tea with the queen. You can relax in here.”

“Sorry. Work mode.” Carol curled up on the couch more like two friends having a chat.

“Where do you want to start?” Daisy put the ball in Carol’s court, giving her some control and comfort in the intimate situation.

“Actually…” Carol put down her script. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you about this scene since we were cast.”

“Okay.” Daisy tossed her script to the coffee table. “What’s up?”

“Do you like how this scene turns out?”

Daisy considered her answer. “I think the emotional payoff is good, especially after I’m blasted out of the air and you catch me. I mean, it makes sense the city’s medics would be all over us as soon as we hit the ground, but then after, having that moment with Dani and Skye alone together, it seems like the right choice to me. Do you think they’ll need to cut it for pacing?”

“No!” Carol said a little too loud. “No. I actually wondered if it wasn’t enough. I mean, for a groundbreaking queer whatever.”

“Ah.” Daisy sighed.

“I know, I know.” Carol waved a hand, indicating she’d heard it all from her team. “It’s Wonder, don’t take it too seriously, just move on. But really? We have to go all rah-rah Pride for a hug and a … what’s the line?”

“I couldn’t lose you?” Daisy quoted.

“Yeah. I know they are saying it’s a love confession, but Dani is a straight shooter. She’d just say it, you know?”

Daisy hadn’t seen Carol worked up about anything before. She played it so cool on set.

“Maybe we can add some little touches and looks. Like this.” Daisy scooted closer and reached out to stroke Carol’s cheek, but Carol instinctively flinched. “Whoa, sorry.”

“It’s not you, it’s me, sorry. I just wasn’t ready.” Carol cleared her throat and sat up straight again, putting on her Dani voice. “Skye, when I saw you fall, I knew nothing else mattered. I couldn’t lose you.”

Carol’s look of desperation and need sent Daisy’s heart racing.

“You wouldn’t lose me, Dani. We’re a team.” Daisy stroked up Carol’s arm and then gently, slowly, lightly touched her cheek. “I’ll always be here to fight for you.”

The heat between them ignited as Carol leaned closer and whispered, “I think it’s ‘to fight alongside you.’”

Daisy leaned in too and wet her lips. “But Skye speaks from the heart. And her heart belongs to Dani.”

Carol’s lips were inches from Daisy’s now. “This feels right, yeah?”

“Yeah, completely—” but Daisy’s affirmation was cut short as they kissed. Or rather, Dani and Skye kissed. Off script. In Daisy’s trailer. Against all wishes of the studio and its distributors.

Carol backed away slowly. “Okay. Okay okay okay.”

“Yep.” Daisy sat back and looked away. “Good, very good.”

“Good?” Carol asked, a bit self-consciously for a sapphic icon.

“Perfect.” Daisy met Carol’s eyes and smiled in reassurance. “At least, that’s how I would have written it.”

“Me too. That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” Carol picked up her script and straightened the papers as if they had concluded a business agreement. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.”

“We’ll never get it past the studio.” Daisy picked up her script again. “But I’m glad our version exists, at least in our heads. Our characters deserve it.”

Carol bit her lip and nodded. “They do. They’ve been through a lot.”

“We could always practice it the way we want it… Just in case.” Daisy made a show of retrieving her chapstick and applying it, and then casually sitting closer to Carol on the couch.

Carol exhaled in relief. “Yes! Exactly. Once they see it, they’ll get what we’re talking about.”

“Definitely. Let’s take it from the top.” Daisy pretended it was all business, just playing a role, but the unspoken attraction between them wasn’t an act. Each time they kissed at the end of the scene, it became harder and harder to stop.

Eventually, a knock on the trailer door called them back to set. No one needed to know what, exactly, they had been practicing alone together.

—-----------------

Meanwhile, director Maria Hill buried her face in her hands as the footage from the day ended on the screens in front of her. The editors let out weary sighs.

Maria leaned her chin on her folded hands. “Does anyone here believe that these two superheroes are plausibly not already sleeping together?”

Silence rang loud in the dark room. On the largest screen in front of them, Dani and Skye had just exchanged playful banter while battling their enemy back to back, then escaped to hide from the big bad villain in an alley, bodies pressed up against each other in the dark.

“If this is our last fight,” Dani began.

“No, don’t say that,” Skye interrupted.

“If it is, though. I’m glad we were together for it.”

Skye rested her forehead against Dani’s and then pulled back, eyes ablaze in determination. “We will win this.”

The screen was paused on this last scene, with Dani taking Skye’s hand and squeezing it before they burst from the corner and attacked the invading alien horde.

Maria sipped her sixth coffee of the production day and looked around the editing room. “Anyone? Can anyone convince me there’s nothing happening here that could provoke a hate group or lead to a censorship ban?”

“They never kiss?” One editor shrugged.

“They never say I love you or discuss their relationship status,” another added.

“And they don’t mention sexual orientation or wear any Pride symbols until the targeted June promotional posters, after international premiere weekend.”

Maria couldn’t tell who said the last one in the dark room, but it didn’t matter. She turned back to the screens and muttered, “Only I would get stuck with two romantic leads with too much chemistry.”

It would be up to the studio in the end to spin Carol and Daisy’s work as just the right amount of sapphic to please all audiences. In the meantime, Maria had her eye on those two. Any more sexual tension between their characters could sink the entire production.

Maria’s phone dinged with a text from a producer that told her to check Daisy’s latest Instagram post, or rather the rumors already flying around in the comments under it.

[mccarthawrites]

A Wedding

Relationships: Vanessa/Usnavi de la Vega, Benny/Nina Rosario

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Usnavi and Vanessa are getting married!

Words: 818

In the Heights Masterlist

Nina looked at herself in the mirror for the seventh time. The dress really didn’t do anything for her ass, like she hoped, but she still looked good in it.

“Ave Maria!” Daniela laughed. “People would think you were the one getting married.”

“But we all know she’s next.” Carla teased. “See, Vanessa, you gotta throw the bouquet at Nina.”

“Whether I catch the bouquet or not, I am next in line to get married. Benny promised.” Nina replied, turning to face the other women. She gasped at the sight of Vanessa in her wedding dress. “Damn, girl. You look hot!”

“You think so? I thought I gained some weight since the original fitting.” Vanessa explained.

“No! You look great! Navi is gonna shit himself.” Nina laughed. “I just wish abuela was here to see you. She loved weddings.”

“She’s smiling down on you.” Camila explained, getting the veil ready. “Ay, Vanessa. Your mom would be so proud.” Taking a deep breath, Camila approached the bride and put on the veil. “I’m glad you gave me this honor. I can’t wait til that one gets married.”

“Soon, mami. I promise.” Nina held two bouquets.

“Que ahora?” Daniela asked.

“We got two minutes.” Carla replied. “Where the hell is Sonny?”

“Here!” Sonny ran into the room. “Wow.” He was stunned by Nina.

“Thanks, but you’re not here for me.” Nina giggled, turning him towards Vanessa.

“Oh shit.” His eyes widened.

“Thank you.” Vanessa smiled. Nina handed her the larger of the two bouquets.

“You’re gonna blow them all away. Navi is gonna lose his shit.” Sonny told her.

“Thanks for giving me away.”

“Of course. I’m still in shock that you asked me.”

“It was between you or Kevin.” Vanessa admitted.

“Okay. We’ll see you ladies out there.” Daniela grabbed Carla’s arm and pulled her out of the room. Camila sighed, taking another look at Vanessa. She kissed the bride’s forehead and said a quick blessing in Spanish before leaving them.

“You ready?” Nina asked her best friend.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Vanessa tried ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. She looked at Sonny. “You have to make sure I don’t fall, because if I do, then I’m taking you down with me.” She teased him. He looked at her nervously. “I’m kidding. Relax. All you have to do is walk me down the aisle and hand me off to Navi and hold the rings. You do have the rings, right?” She asked. He patted the breast pocket of his jacket and nodded. “Good. Let’s go.” They both took a deep breath and left the room, entering the chapel.

The music started and everyone stood up, but Vanessa didn’t pay any attention to them. Her eyes were on Usnavi. For once he wasn’t wearing his cap. He wore a dark tux. The way he looked at her only made the butterflies worse. She always dreamt of finding someone who looked at her like that. Nina walked ahead of Vanessa and Sonny. Benny blew a kiss to her, making her smile. Finally getting to the altar, Sonny handed Vanessa off to his cousin.

“Take care of her, or I’ll kill ya.” Sonny playfully threatened Usnavi, getting a chuckle from the guests. Vanessa kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.” She whispered. He nodded and took his place next to Usnavi. Nina zoned out, watching Benny as he watched their best friends finally tie the knot. He sat with Lincoln and Cuca. It felt like only yesterday they were all kids running around the neighborhood causing trouble. Benny’s eyes met Nina’s. He smiled, absolutely loving how her dress hugged her curves, but he also couldn’t wait to take it off her later.

“We’re next.” He whispered, making her giggle.

“The rings?” Sonny’s attention, previously on Pete,  went to Usnavi. He dug into his breast pocket for the two golden rings. Pulling them out and handing them to the groom. Usnavi quickly checked the rings, making sure to give Vanessa the right one. They shared their vows, but Sonny put his attention back on Pete. They were moving to Miami in a few weeks and he had big plans for the two of them.

“By the power vested in me by New York City, I know pronounce you husband and wife.” Ronnie, one of the cab drivers who happened to be ordained, announced. Usnavi kissed his new wife, pulling her closer to him. The guests applauded for the newlyweds. Usnavi and Vanessa ran out of the chapel to the car waiting outside to drive them to the reception. As people started filing out to follow, Benny made his way to Nina.

“Hey.” She smiled.

“Hi.” He kissed her. “You look hot.”

“Thank you. You’re not too bad, yourself.” She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

“Get a room!” Lincoln teased. “Come on, we got a reception to get to!”