#I know I dropped dead everywhere but life is hard and I have communication issues okay...

[coeluvr]

I MISS YOU

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Ten: When it Rains

a/n: hi besties!! This one is... tough I’m ngl to y’all. It is the second to the last chapter which is so wild to think about, but alas all good things must come to an end. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much by the end of it but feel free to vent in my inbox :))) much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor, ANGST (!!)

Word Count: 7.4 k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine

“Is that my shirt?”

“No,”

Alani squints at the cartoon bee printed on Harry’s white t-shirt and crosses her arms in disbelief. 

“Yes it is! I’ve been looking for it everywhere,”

“Don’t worry, you can have it back soon,” he admits, crawling back into his bed with an apologetic kiss to her pouting lips. “Doesn’t smell like you anymore,”

“Thief,”

Harry scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. “Don’t act like my Spice World jumper isn’t hanging at the foot of your bed right now,”

“You left it there,” Alani defends. “I was merely being kind and looking after said hoodie because it was abandoned by its owner,”

“Oh yeah and you’ve fought real hard to reunite us,”

“Can we get back to the main issue at hand? Which is that I’m kinda pissed off that you look better in that shirt than I do.”

Harry chuckles to himself and presses an affectionate kiss to her temple. “You’re too kind.”

Alani rests her cheek against his chest and listens to the rain pattering harshly against the window, admiring the flashes of lightning that illuminate the dimly lit room. Harry had convinced her to stay the night, worried about her driving home alone in the storm, and he was met with very little resistance. Secretly, he thanks the rain gods for allowing him another night to hold her close. 

********

“H, you gotta tell her,” Jeff had warned the previous night. “I already pushed the flight back a week—”

“I know,” Harry huffed. “I just need a little more time.”

Jeff sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “You have until this weekend when we go away with the girls. One week in Maui, and then it’s back home. I’m sorry.”

********

Harry’s stomach turns remembering the conversation, but he decides to push all the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the present. 

“You all packed?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. 

Alani drapes her leg over his hip and nods. “Been packed since last week.”

She had been ecstatic the day after Mila and Chad’s wedding when Harry invited her to tag along on the couple’s trip with Jeff, Tom, and their significant others. His eagerness to include her in his friend group was not only reassuring, but exciting. It felt like their lives were coming together, even more so after she had introduced him to her parents. They, of course, had adored him and quickly given their seal of approval. While Alani knew that it was ultimately her choice, it still felt good to have support from the most important people in her life, and she hoped to win his friends over just as easily. Harry, on the other hand, had no doubts that she would fit right into his chosen family. Her name had been cautiously dropped during a weekly FaceTime call with his mother and sister, and he was overjoyed when they enthusiastically grilled him for details. 

What Harry was less sure of, however, was how Alani would react upon hearing that his vacation was up and that he would be headed back to L.A. in a week’s time. It was still early in their relationship and an indeterminate break seemed less than ideal. He had tried to convince both Jeff and the label that he could finish the album in Hawaii, but the same couldn’t be said for Jeff Bhasker, Mitch, Tom, and his new bassist, Adam, who all had families waiting for them back on the mainland. It was too risky personally and financially, so Harry reluctantly negotiated one last week to persuade Alani that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be a death sentence. 

“What d’you wanna watch?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard to turn on the T.V. 

Alani sighs and settles deeper into his side. “When Harry Met Sally,”

“But it’s not Christmas or New Year’s,”

“So?”

“So,” Harry explains. “We have to wait ‘til the holidays, wouldn’t be right otherwise,”

Alani scoffs and peers up at him with a judgemental look. “So I guess Serendipity is also out of the question?”

“We’ll have all Christmas to get through that list, darlin’,”

Her stomach flips at his suggestion of their future holiday plans. Privately, she had wondered about such things, as well, including what gifts she might get him or where they would spend the holidays. Though still months away, it suddenly felt within reach. 

“Fine,” Alani softens. “The Notebook,”

“And let you drool over what’s-his-face?” Harry pokes. “No fuckin’ way,”

Alani pinches his side and sits up. “Would you stop being insecure about that? I’ve already told you I was just kidding that time,”

“Yeah well, it still stings,”

“Why don’t you tell me your celebrity crush? You know, so I can be totally fine about it because it doesn’t mean anything,”

Harry shrugs, the corners of his lips turning into a playful smirk. “Don’t have one,”

“Liar,”

“M’serious,”

“Why, because you’ve already dated them?”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “That was a bit snippy,”

Alani’s muscles tighten. She hadn’t realized that his dating history was a sore spot, but she takes a deep breath and plants a sweet kiss to his jaw as an offering of peace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,”

“S’alright. Truce?”

“Deal,”

“Jennifer Aniston,”

“Huh?”

“My celebrity crush,” Harry explains shyly. “When I was younger,”

Alani giggles lightly. “I see. Good taste, she’s hot,”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave me for her too,”

“I just might,”

“Can’t say that I blame you,”

“Look I know this is a cute little bit we do,” Alani sits up, her gaze dead-set on Harry’s to communicate the seriousness behind her words. “But I just want you to know that I feel so lucky to be with you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon,”

Harry swallows harshly. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear and it kills him that he can’t return the sentiment with full honesty. A little less than a week is all he has to prove that even though he physically has to go, his heart will remain wherever Alani is. “Me either,”

Another round of thunder booms outside and the lights fizzle out, leaving the room completely dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning that gently illuminate the room. 

“So much for watching a movie, huh?” Alani sighs. 

“I think I know some other ways we can keep ourselves entertained.”

********

Harry sets a steaming cup of tea down onto the table in front of Alani and she looks up from her tube of nail polish curiously. Harry flashes a dimpled grin in her direction and whistles a familiar tune, one that she had heard in the studio when he was busy doing his Bob Dylan impression. 

“What’re you singing?”

“Hm?”

“The song,” she clarifies. “You were singing it the other day, what is it?”

Harry serves her plate of hash browns and shrugs. “Dunno, just a little tune ‘ve been workin’ on,”

“It’s nice,”

“Thanks, sweets,” he offers, setting her food down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Hey Alani,” Jeff interrupts, stepping into the kitchen with his cellphone pressed to his shoulder.

“Glenne wants to know if you’re okay with her setting up a spa thing for you guys,”

"Yeah, definitely,” Alani perks up. 

“Cool, thanks.”

“Look at you,” Harry teases, taking a bite of his toast coated in strawberry jam. “Minglin’ with the girls,”

“They’re not even here yet,” 

He scans over her appearance and his brows furrow, hit with the sudden realization that she’s dressed in formal attire. 

“What’s with the fancy outfit”

“I have a meeting, remember?”

“With?”

Alani blows on her freshly painted nails and holds up her other hand for Harry to do the same. 

“My senior advisor. We’re going over my research project,”

Harry’s brows raise. “Smarty-pants,”

Alani had scheduled her meeting with Dr. Hudson months ago and had, truthfully, forgotten all about it until she had received a courtesy email the day prior. She had been working on her proposal in the spare minutes she had away from Harry, which were few and far between, but she knew the initial meeting would be much more casual. Alani checks the time on her phone and stands quickly when she realizes that she is supposed to meet Dr. Hudson in  less than thirty-minutes. 

“Gotta go,” she offers, shoveling potatoes into her mouth and grabbing her bag. 

Harry ceases blowing on her nails and kisses the back of her hand before sticking out his lips for a kiss of his own. “Good luck, darlin’. Meet me at the studio after?”

“Sure thing, sunshine. See you later.”

********

“How did the Joni Mitchell piece go? You never told me,” Dr. Hudson questions, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alani offers a shy smile and toys with the hem of her skirt. “A flop,”

“Just one more closer to the winner,”

“Yeah,” Alani sighs, stirring her smoothie. “Maybe it’s time to move on from that,”

The professor shoots her a disapproving look and sets her drink down. “Alani—”

“I just think maybe there’s more realistic—”

“You are not giving up,” Dr. Hudson reassures her. “You’ve come too far and you’re a terrific writer. One of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. These things take time,”

Alani nods gently, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Thank you, that really means a lot,”

“What are you working on right now?”

Absolutely nothing, Alani thinks, but then she remembers the half-written article about Harry sitting in her files. 

“A short piece about… a local musician,”

Dr. Hudson’s brows raise, intrigued, and she nods. “That sounds interesting. Definitely more personal,”

You have no idea. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not really anything—”

“I’d love to read it when you’re finished,” the professor continues. “What’s the scope?”

Alani thinks, trying not to give too much incriminating detail about her subject or their relationship. 

“Well,” she starts, hesitant. “He’s writing new music and working on his first album. I guess I kind of want to follow his journey and redefinition of success in the music industry,”

Dr. Hudson hums. “I love it. Send me a draft.”

Alani swallows and takes a minute to consider the offer. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong about sharing her work privately with her advisor. She had been so excited about the potential of the article when it was first started, but it had since been neglected like so many of her other rejected pieces. Starting again seemed exciting, and she knew that Harry would be pleased to play such an important role in making her dreams come true. That had, after all, been the initial terms of their agreement. 

“Okay,” Alani accepts. “I will.”

********

Harry draws out the last note and Mitch lets the chord ring between them for a moment. 

“I think that’s the one,”

“Yeah, I liked that progression better,”

“Hope you got that, Bhasker,” Mitch calls to Jeff in the sound booth, who gives a thumbs up in response. 

Harry continues humming, his head still bobbing to the tune, when he hears the studio door creak unpleasantly. His eyes shoot up to find Alani wincing and timidly stepping into the room. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,”

He softens and beckons her over. “Never an interruption, sweets,”

Alani slots herself between his legs and wraps her arms around his neck, giving a gentle peck to the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together.

“How’s the weather?”

“Just got a lot sunnier,”

“Meeting go well?”

She nods and twists a lock of his chestnut hair between her fingers. “Yeah, actually,”

“Then we should celebrate!” Harry perks up, peppering a kiss to her cheek. “Dinner, wine, movie, the whole shebang,”

Alani frowns, thinking back to the article she promised Dr. Hudson. “Hmmm, raincheck?”

Her boyfriend deflates. “You’re ditching me?”

“Just for one night,” she explains, pulling him closer. “I wanna finish up some school stuff before our trip. Otherwise I won’t be able to give you my full attention,”

Harry pouts, but he nods understandingly. “‘Kay,”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ll miss you tons,”

“Ditto, sweets,”

Alani presses her forehead against his and her fingertips wander through the growing curls at the nape of his neck. “Please don’t be upset,”

Harry smiles warmly and smoothes his hands up and down her back. “Never, m’love. Could never be upset with you,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, planting a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey, I wanna play you somethin’,” 

Alani grins and pulls back a bit to read his expression. “Let’s hear it,”

Harry grabs the guitar next to him and slings it over his shoulder before adjusting the capo. The song starts sweet and gentle, his voice light to match the tune. 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home 

Alani watches in awe as he pours so much emotion behind every word, his vocals effortlessly powerful and rich. She claps when the song finishes and leans in for a kiss. 

“I love it,”

“S’not finished yet,” Harry shrugs, still fiddling with the strings. “Just the chorus right now,”

“Will you teach it to me?”

His brows raise in surprise. “You play?”

“No,” Alani admits. “But I have a feeling you’re a good teacher,”

“Well, let’s see what you got,”

Alani turns and Harry props the guitar in her lap, his arms wrapping around her as he guides her into the right position. His left hand demonstrates the beginning chord and she replaces his fingers on the fretboard to try for herself. She strums and the beginning note resonates in near-perfect pitch. 

“Hey,” Harry beams. “You’re a regular Hendrix,”

He continues positioning her fingers over the right spaces and letting her strum, humming the lyrics softly into the shell of her ear. 

“We don’t argue that much,” Alani defends playfully. 

Harry chuckles and kisses her temple. “Maybe not, but we’re really good at makin’ up.”

“Easy, Styles.”

********

Harry: Hungry?

Alani peels her eyes away from the computer screen and reads the message lighting up her phone. 

Alani: Not really

Harry: …

Harry: oh 

She laughs and pads over to the window. Sure enough, Harry holds up two bags and flashes a cheesy grin down below. 

“Need a study break?”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

Harry makes himself comfortable in the middle of her bed and unpacks the bags. 

“I’ve got a California and a spicy tuna for my favorite girl,” he announces. “With a side of eel sauce,”

“And the world's best boyfriend goes to Mr. Harry Styles,” Alani grins, taking a seat next to him. 

He smirks and pulls out his own order of miso soup and sushi. “How’s the homework comin’ along?”

“Not too shabby,”

“Glad to hear it,”

“Hey, what time do I meet you at the airport tomorrow?” she asks, dipping her roll in the sauce. 

Harry freezes and turns to her with confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, did my girlfriend just insinuate that we’re not leaving for the airport together?”

“I really need to finish this,” Alani explains. “It’s almost there,” 

“Two nights?” he complains. 

Alani nudges him with her shoulder and shakes her head. “We’re gonna be spending an entire week together, non-stop. You’re gonna get sick of me,”

“Never,” Harry rebuts. “Not possible,”

“Just one more night,” Alani bargains. “Then I’m all yours, no interruptions.”

He nods and takes a sip of his soup. “Alright, deal.”

You have to tell her, Jeff’s voice rings in his mind. 

********

The airline stewardess ushers Harry and Alani to their seats while Scott and Miles settle down a few rows behind. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from first-class, but suddenly the perks of having a famous boyfriend increased tenfold by the sight of their luxurious accommodations.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Alani asks while Harry hovers over his chair. 

“Sitting, or I was about to,”

“And you’re not even gonna offer rock-paper-scissors for the window seat?”

Harry shakes his head with an amused chuckle. “No because I already know that you’re gonna get up to pee every five minutes,”

“Not true,”

“It is too true and it’s exactly why we can’t cuddle while we fall asleep,”

“Or maybe the reason is because I’m claustrophobic and I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,”

Harry frowns. “Really?”

“No,” Alani admits, taking the aisle seat. “I just said that so you’d give me the window,”

“Get up, we’re switching,”

“Thank you, sunshine! You’re the best,”

Harry slumps into his new chair and crosses his arms. “Forty-five minutes and we’re already fighting like an old married couple,”

“Oh really?” Alani smirks. “Is that what old married couples argue about? Who gets the window seat?”

“And leaving the toilet seat up, going antique shopping—” 

“—What old married couples have you been hanging out with—?”

“—Picking up the kids from school,”

Alani presses a kiss to his shoulder and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyelids are still heavy from staying up the night before, but her article was completely finished and sent off to Dr. Hudson just like she’d promised. Now, she could enjoy her vacation free of any worry or obligation, completely focused on the perfect boy still rambling next to her. 

“But, obviously I mean that doesn’t count, right?” Harry asks, craning his neck and smiling softly when he sees that his girlfriend has already dozed off. He kisses the top of her head gently and lets his own eyes flutter close with a deep, contented breath. 

********

“And then I’ll have to repaint it, but I haven’t decided on a color yet,” Glenne explains to Alani as they stroll through the airport. 

Alani hums. “It was your grandmother’s?” 

“Well, it was somebody’s grandmother’s. We picked it up at this little antique shop in Santa Monica.”

Jeff escorts Glenne into the shuttle car while Harry and Alani share a knowing look and stifle their laughter. They shuffle into the back seats as Tom and his wife, Jenny, claim the middle row. 

“So you’re a journalist?” Jenny asks, turning in her seat eagerly to face Alani. 

“Not quite,” she explains with a polite smile. “Still a student, but hopefully someday,”

Jenny nods and twirls the ring around her finger. “Sounds exciting. Maybe you can hitch a ride on tour with this one and do some writing there.”

“Yeah,” Alani smiles, settling further into Harry’s side. “Maybe.”

The idea of traveling the world with Harry and being a part of the excitement of touring the album was something she had considered briefly, but hadn’t allowed herself to fully indulge until this moment. It was already thrilling to see him polish the songs he had begun during his trip, but she could only imagine how much more special it would be to see him perform them for the rest of the world. A twinge of jealousy sparks at the thought of having to share any part of him with the public, but Alani knows that his gifts are much too special to keep all for herself. Harry was golden and he deserved to shine in all of his radiant glory. That was exactly what she had penned in her article, and she said it not because he was her boyfriend and there were clear personal investments, but because she knew it was true even before he had shown any romantic interest in her. 

“What’s tour like?” Alani pipes up as Harry watches the landscape out his window. 

He considers it for a moment and clears his throat. “Fun, mostly. Can be tiring,”

“Lots of partying and adoring fans?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “Not so much the partying. Enthusiastic fans, sure,”

Alani narrows her eyes. “No partying?”

“Nope,” Harry reiterates. “Don’t really like to do all that stuff when I’m working. Also just didn’t wanna…”

He trails off and Alani waits a beat to see if he’ll continue. “Didn’t wanna?”

“Fuck it up,” he finishes. “You know, like, be the one who ruined a good thing for a little bit of fun.”

She lets his words settle in, rubbing a reassuring circle on the back of his hand. “Makes sense. Sounds really responsible of you to do that.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to her temple and resumes his study of the scenery. They chat amongst their friends for the remainder of the drive and Alani immediately presses Glenne and Jenny for information about her boyfriend in his younger years. They indulge her inquiries and ask their own questions, deciding privately after a few minutes that her and Harry are a good fit. 

When the group arrives at the resort, Glenne takes charge and instructs them all to meet at the lobby for lunch in twenty minutes. They collect their keys and head up to their respective rooms, which are all located on the very top floor. 

“What a view,” Alani muses as she takes in the sight from their private balcony. 

Harry admires the wonder on her face and nods, his eyes not leaving her side profile. “You’re tellin’ me,”

“Let’s never go home,” she poses, arms snaking around his torso. “Let’s stay here forever, just me and you,”

His throat tightens as he thinks back to the inevitable conversation waiting for them. Harry didn’t know why it was so hard to think about leaving because he had every intention of keeping touch and making their relationship work at all costs. But there was a part of him, a very tiny recess in the back of his mind, that feared the possibility of Alani not feeling the same. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want, sweets,”

Alani senses a shift in his demeanor, but she can’t read it. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Harry swallows, mustering up a small smile. “But I am hungry,”

She isn’t entirely convinced that there isn’t something bothering him, but she decides not to push it and tightens her grip around his waist, instead. 

“Race you to the lobby.”

“You’re on.”

********

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”

“Was I s’posed to?”

“My god,” Alani marvels. “You know, I’m starting to believe those rumors that you were grown in a lab,”

Harry’s brow raises and he blinks. “That I was what?”

The restaurant that Glenne and Jeff chose features an aquarium tunnel at the entrance, much to both Harry and Alani’s excitement. Fish, large and small, swim around them and the pair take turns pointing out their favorite colorful species. The Hull’s snap photos for their four year-old daughter, but Jenny also secretly captures one of Harry and Alani with their hands clasped under the mesmerizing blue lighting as a keepsake for her friend. 

“Add Finding Nemo to our movie list,” Alani says, admiring a clownfish that swims close to the glass. 

“S’it  gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,”

“Goddamnit,” 

Alani giggles softly and turns her head away from the glass to silently observe Harry under the lighting of the rippling water. The combination of his serene features and the sound of Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You over the sound system creates a perfect image in her mind, one that makes her afraid to blink, lest it be gone forever. Harry glances over at her through the corner of his eye and his lips curl. 

“Checkin’ me out?”

“Always,”

“Like whatcha see?”

“Love it.”

His heart nearly stops at her words, but before he has a chance to process their implication, the hostess calls on their group. 

“And I’ll have the piña colada,” Harry orders once they're seated. 

“Oh my god, H,” Glenne laughs from across the table. “That reminds me, remember your birthday last year when James got trashed and hoarded the karaoke machine for, like, two hours?”

“Ruined that song forever,” Jeff quips, reliving the memory of the Late-Late host drunkenly serenading the entire party with the same song on repeat. 

Harry cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I try not to,”

Alani watches as they reminisce on the event, adding their own details and pieces to the puzzle. It’s amusing to watch, but a small part of her also has to fight the pang of exclusion settling into the pit of her stomach. She feels guilty for being affected by it knowing, logically, that it isn’t intentional or malicious in any way. Still, Alani is painfully reminded of the vast differences between their worlds. Harry had gotten to know practically every part of her life, including her family, but there was still so much that she didn’t know about his. It was something she worked hard not to dwell on, given the novelty of their relationship, but she also worried that fear and insecurity would prevent her from investing what little of her heart Harry hadn’t claimed yet. 

“Who was it that started dancing on a table and almost broke a chandelier?” Tom asks, wracking his brain. 

“I think it was Ken—” Jeff hesitates, clearing his throat. “Actually, I don’t remember,”

Harry shifts in his seat beside Alani and reads over the menu, quickly changing the subject. “What’re you gonna get?”

“I don’t know,” Alani admits. “Everything looks so good,”

“Oh look,” Jenny pipes up across from Harry. “They’ve got your fav, the mango sorbet. I wonder if it’s as good as the one in Italy,”

Harry beams and reads over the item. “Oh yeah, that was amazin’,” 

Alani files the detail to the back of her mind. She hadn’t known mango was his favorite flavor of anything, and while it was a trivial detail, she realized that there were so still many little details about him that she wanted to know. Harry had made such an effort to remember everything about her, like her go-to sushi order and the fact that she always saved the kiwis for last in her fruit salad, so it made her feel a touch guilty that she hadn’t made the same effort. 

“Wanna share the coconut shrimp?” Alani asks with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s allergic,” Glenne says offhandedly, not cold or condescending, but more in the same way that an older sister would. 

“Oh my god,” Alani’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,”

Harry laughs lightly and shrugs. “S’okay, I’d let you poison me,”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Glenne apologizes, reaching her hand out to Alani. “I thought you knew.”

Alani accepts the hand and waves away her concern. “No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know, actually.”

“We can stop talking about my defects now,” Harry teases. “‘M not dyin’,”

He leans in closer to Alani and presses a kiss to her temple. “But if I was, it’d be an honor to have my last meal with you.”

She responds with a soft smile before returning her attention back to the menu. His sentiments, however sweet, unfortunately did very little to soothe the embarrassment of her mini faux pas. It was irrational, Alani knew this, but it made her wonder what else she didn’t know and what bigger secrets he was potentially keeping. Whose name had Jeff meant to say earlier to identify the mystery dancer at Harry’s party, and why had it created an awkward shift in the air? She decides not to let the spiraling questions spoil her fun and takes a generous sip of her cocktail to avoid them for the time being. 

********

Harry sets the room key on the nightstand next to their king sized bed and lets himself sink down into the soft mattress. The group had spent the entire day sightseeing, from botanical gardens to scenic beaches, but he was really itching for some quality time alone with Alani. Lately, their time together had been cut frustratingly short by work, school, and life in general. Even when they were seated right next to each other with arms linked or fingers interlocked, she felt far away and he didn’t know why. He hoped that this trip would allow them time to reconnect and solidify their relationship before he had to return to California. 

“Mini bar,” Alani comments, kicking her shoes off and wandering over to the small refrigerator in their suite. “Who’s paying again?”

“The label,”

“Thank you Columbia Records,”

She swipes a few bottles of tequila before climbing into the bed next to Harry. 

“Wanna play a game?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and nods. “What kinda game?”

“Never have I ever,” Alani explains. “But instead of putting your finger down, you take a shot,”

“Sounds dangerous,”

“It’ll be fun. You can go first if you want,”

He hums and nods in agreement before sitting up to face her. “‘Kay. Never have I ever...named my car after a musician,”

“Cheap shot,” Alani narrows her eyes, taking a sip from the bottle of Jose Cuervo. 

“Your turn,”

She fiddles with the bottle cap, a question already in mind, though she isn’t sure if she should ask it. 

“Never have I ever… dated a model,”

Harry’s brow furrows, but he opens his own bottle slowly and takes a sip. “So it’s that kind of never have I ever,”

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” Alani shrugs innocently. 

“Right. Never have I ever slept with a guy named David,”

Her eyes widen, but she laughs half-heartedly and takes a sip. “Jeez, okay. Never have I ever—”

“Wait, so you two actually…” Harry interrupts, trailing off at the end. 

“I mean,” Alani starts, her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “Yeah, a long time ago,”

“How long ago?”

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake—”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll play nice,”

“Alright,” Alani accepts. She knows that she should probably steer the game back onto safer territory, but the wound has been re-opened and she can’t resist the urge to keep picking at it. “Never have I ever slept with a fan,”

Harry takes a slow sip. “Never have I ever cheated on my partner,”

The bottle stays put in Alani’s hand. “Never had I ever gone on a vacation with my partner before this trip,”

The tequila washes over his tongue bitterly like the faint memories that it symbolizes. “Never have I ever dated someone just for the publicity,”

The bottle in Alani’s hand doesn’t move, much to Harry’s relief, but her mind is not as tranquil. 

“Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t,” she says slowly.  

Harry takes another shot and it burns all the way down. “Why are we doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna play anymore,”

“Alani,” he starts, springing to his feet when she leaves the bed. “Hey, look at me, please,”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lower lashes before turning to him. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid game,”

“S’just all out of context,” Harry offers, reaching for her hands. “Wasn’t the right way to have all of those conversations,”

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”

“What’s really botherin’ you, hm sweets?” He coos, bringing her cold knuckles to his warm lips. “Tell me, please?”

She releases a shaky breath and tries to sift through the fog in her brain for the right answer.

 “I don’t know, really, I just,” Alani hesitates. “Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, his hands lifting to cup her face. “God no, you’re the best,”

“Then why didn’t I know that your favorite ice cream flavor was mango? And why didn’t I know that you were allergic to coconut, and why—”

“Hang on, is that what this is all about?” he questions. “Cause I’ll go eat an entire coconut right now,”

Alani laughs lightly and pinches her eyes shut. “No, it’s not about that. I just feel like you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you make me feel so fucking special and, God, I just wanna be good enough for you because—”

Harry holds his breath and watches as her eyes gloss over. 

“Because I love you,” she finishes, voice small. “More than I ever thought possible,”

His own eyes sting, but he doesn’t fight the tears that fall as he presses his lips to hers firmly. 

“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “I love you so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy,”

Alani chuckles softly. “Ditto,”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for ages, can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“Guess you’re not the only one full of surprises.”

********

The early morning sunlight creeps gently into Harry and Alani’s room, casting a soft, golden glow onto the bare skin that peeks through the white duvet. Harry stirs first, a strand of Alani’s hair tickling his nose and making him smile. He prys his heavy eyelids open and winces at the dull aching of his head aggravated by the light. Alani hears his muffled groan and sighs, willing the sun to go back down and let her sleep a few more hours. 

“Mornin’ sweets,” he rasps with a warm kiss to her bare shoulder. 

She peels her own tired eyes open and flashes a sleepy grin. “Good morning, sunshine,”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Super. You?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his palm as he admires the traces of sleep still on her face.

“Just swell.”

Alani chuckles lightly and reaches a hand up to comb through his unruly bedhead. His skin is warm to the touch, and the light from the window casts a heavenly glow around his visage. She pokes her finger into his dimple, which elicits a soft laugh and makes his smile grow wider. They stay intertwined under the sheets as the sun fully rises and soak up their own details to keep as souvenirs from this moment. Alani takes in the scent of vanilla and the juxtaposition of Harry’s inked bicep against the plain, white sheets. He stores away the image of her sleepy, mocha eyes and the pink, manicured fingernails that trail up and down his arm. Neither of them are sure exactly how long they remain in this moment, for all they know it could be hours or days. But whatever the duration, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I need more time, Harry had told Jeff, but there was no more left to give. He had to tell her, and it was now or never. 

“Hey,” he begins carefully. “I need to tell you something,”

Alani sits up to be eye level with him and nods. “Anything,”

Harry waits a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder before letting the confession spill out. 

“I have to go back to L.A.,”

 “I kinda figured,”

He draws in a deep sigh of relief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Alani shrugs. “Hilo isn’t exactly Hollywood,”

“I asked for more time, but the label—”

“No, I get it. So… when? Next month?”

“Friday,”

Alani’s brows furrow. “This Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits with a gulp. 

“The last day of our trip?”

“Yes,”

Her heart drops into her stomach and she feels sick. It all made sense now why Harry’s mood had shifted when she jokingly asked him not to leave, and why he had been so insistent on spending as much time together as possible this week. Their game of never have I ever turned instantly defensive when asked about his dating history. Never had I ever gone on vacation with my partner before this trip. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. He had whisked her away on a farewell trip and God knows who else had been in her place before, or worse, who would be in it next. Harry was saying good-bye. 

“Wait,” Alani says finally, mind still racing too fast to process. “How long have you known?”

“Alani—”

“How long?”

Harry swallows. “Couple of weeks,”

“You knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me?” she questions incredulously.

“I tried—”

“You know that I hate surprises, you know how I feel about plans—”

“I’m sorry,” Harry insists, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never felt right,”

Alani rolls her eyes. “So what, you were just gonna leave a fucking sticky note on my pillow and hope for the best?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Is that why you gave me this necklace? A souvenir of our little summer fling so you could leave with a clear conscience?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “How could you even think that?”

“Because maybe it’s true. Why else would you wait until the very last minute to tell me about this?”

“Maybe we should take a minute,” he suggests, the whites of his eyes now bloodshot. “Before we say something we’ll regret,”

“I think I already did.” Alani admits. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. 

Harry’s head pounds and he feels like he’s drowning, treading water in every direction only to be dragged further into the current. He quickly pulls on his clothes from the night before and tries to steady his breathing. 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall,” he offers. “Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

Alani doesn’t respond or even meet his pleading eyes. She simply tightens the duvet around her body and turns her head to the window, letting a single, bitter tear roll down her cheek. The door closes softly and she is immediately filled with regret and guilt. Had she truly meant all of the things she said? Or was it fear and the instinct to flee taking over her mouth? Alani wanted to believe that she was wrong and that Harry hadn’t intentionally kept her in the dark, but from where she stood, the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds and all that was left was the storm. 

Harry trudges down the hallway and the walls spin, closing in on him slowly. If he had just told Alani sooner, everything would be different. He had avoided doing so for this exact reason and out of fear that their relationship wouldn’t be worth the risk in her mind. It was selfish—he was selfish—to try to make the decision for her, and now the woman he loved was getting ready to walk away because he had broken her trust. What else was there to do? His back meets the wall and he sinks to the floor. 

“Hey H,” Jeff clears his throat from above. “We should talk,”

“She knows. Didn’t go well,”

“So she did approve the article?” 

Harry lifts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

There’s a harsh knock at the door and Alani jumps. In Harry’s absence, she had managed to cool off and sift through her frantic thoughts. She had been wrong to think that he used her, all it took was a quick stroll down memory lane to prove otherwise. He had never given her any true reason not to trust him, so there had to be some other reason why he hadn’t told her about his plans to leave so soon. Alani pads over to the door and unlocks it gently. 

“Harry, I’m sor—”

“Wanna talk about surprises?” he seethes. “What the fuck is this?”

She squints at the phone screen that he holds up to her face and the title of her unpublished article stares back at her. 

“I don’t know—”

“Well it has your goddamn name on it,” Harry shoots back. 

Alani steps aside and lets him into the room before she closes the door behind her. “I can explain—”

“Did you write it or not?”

“Yes, but—”

He shuts the phone off and slams it face down onto the night stand. “How fucking dare you call me a liar and then pull this shit behind my back,”

“I didn’t lie,” Alani defends, voice weak. “I had no idea it was going to be published, please just listen—”

“A class project,” he interrupts with his back still turned. “That’s what you said,”

“It was never meant to be released,”

“How do I know that? How do I know you’re not just trying to cover your ass?”

“Please,” Alani begs as her vision begins to blur. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said all those things,”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and casts his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to quell the emotion that pools behind his eyes. 

“So why did you?”

“I was scared,”

“Of?”

Alani takes a deep breath. “Of losing you for good. Of falling in l—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t finish that sentence,”

“I don’t know how,” she tries again. “And I don’t know who released it, but I swear—”

“You really expect me to trust a word you say after you accused me of lying about this whole thing, about us?”

Harry’s  gaze lowers back to hers and the bright, green eyes that she has come to love are replaced with a blood-shot, stormy sea that makes her stomach drop. The words get caught in her throat. 

“I fucked up,” he continues. “I know that I should’ve told you. But I’m having a hard time believing that this wasn’t planned, that this random website would just accidentally publish your work without your consent,”

Alani can’t explain it either, she truly had no idea how her writing had ended up in the wrong hands. There was only one other person she had entrusted it with, but surely Dr. Hudson hadn’t betrayed her, had she? Alani didn’t know who to believe anymore. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she tries. “I didn’t mean what I said, and I know I can’t take it back, but you have to at least believe that I never wanted to hurt you,”

Harry is silent for a moment, and Alani decides that it’s her turn to tell the truth. There was nothing left to lose. 

“At first, I did want to publish it,” she explains. “But I changed my mind and I scrapped the whole thing. In the end, the only person I intended to show it to was you,”

“So how did it get onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see?” he presses. 

Alani sighs. “My advisor wanted to know what I was working on, so I sent it to her, but she never had my permission to publish it. Now I realize how stupid it sounds, but it’s the truth,”

“If you had come to me, I would have given you permission,”

“I’m so sorry,”

Harry’s shoulders tense. Every fiber of his being  wants to believe her, but how could he? She had told him herself that things would be messy and warned him that he didn’t know what he was asking by pursuing a relationship with her. Maybe it really was all his fault for not seeing the signs, but that still didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust her anymore. And based on her reaction to the news of his departure, it seemed as though Alani didn’t trust him either. 

“Even if you’re telling the truth,” Harry begins, slow and deliberate. “You still thought, after everything, that I would abandon you. And if that’s the kind of person you think I am, if that’s the person you wrote about—”

“Harry—”

“Then I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

“Please, don’t go.” Alani cries but it’s too late. The door slams and her heart falls. 

After a beat, she races to the door and into the hallway but there’s no sign of Harry. As quickly as he had appeared into her life, he had vanished. Gone without a trace.

[sor-vette]

four, circus!! (index/description)

☜ three, an all-out fight club!!

☞ five, dots!!

t/w: dead bodies, mention of overdose

"This has got to be the dumbest thing I've ever seen," Yoongi thinks to himself as he blankly stares at Jimin, transferring the PPT file to the projector.

123 slides in "Reasonable arguments as to why we should date, _̵͚̾͌_̶̢̛̘̅͛̕_̶̡̧̝͗̒̋̌̚_̴̮̒̍̿̃͠ .

"Wrong PowerPoint bro," Jungkook grunts with closed eyes. No doubt the idiot had tried to stalk you throughout the night. It's been three days since Erik had officially enrolled.

Namjoon also has his eyes fixed on the projector, his expression giving nothing away.

"Resigned to death, poor bastard, as you should."

Jimin momentarily looks behind him to see why Jin had started to snort in laughter before scrambling to choose another file.

56 slides in "What do we know about Erik and what to do about it?"

"The title could be less verbose," Jin remarks, spinning his chair around the room.

"You're one to talk, literally," Jimin sneers but, there is very little malice in his voice if any. Besides Namjoon, V and Hope, who actually stuck to his word of minding his business, Yoongi didn't know anyone personally in the room. Though he sure has heard of the connections they had with you. Each weirder than the other.

Namjoon, the CEO, the one who went overboard in commitment and scared you off. Rumour was he offered marriage before the first "I like you." But that as well could be bullshit.

Hope, with the most cordial contact out of all. And also the most distant. You two had fundamentally different perceptions of how the world worked. Incompatible match, as the saying goes.

Jin. Despite the grandeur of his character, Yoongi knew very little of him. Even less as to why you left. He presumed the lack of commitment on both sides.

Jimin, the almost. For five months Yoongi had to hear nothing but coy whispers of just what good friends you two were. What good time you both had jumping back and forth from Paris and home. And then with zero explanation, you weren't. Every once in a while, he'd see the two of you in the hallway. Working hard to suffer through an exchange of pleasantries between long awkward pauses. The whispers had been effectively stomped to death, with no one the wiser as to what the hell had happened.

V, the one you hated and the one who hated you. How the two of you even met was beyond anyone's understanding. How you didn't rip each other's throat out even more so. Why he was here? God only knew.

And the last one, JK. Your trainee before Erik. The one who'd shamelessly bounced, leaving you in the dust when the enrollment came with a nary of thank you. After that, you officially joined the cleaner department and largely went missing from the public eye.

And, of course, Yoongi himself. The only official boyfriend. The one who officially broke both of your hearts.

"If all of you could please focus!" Jimin snapped, standing with a wad of paper in hand, waving it like a teacher in front of particularly annoying group of students.

"He even made notes," Namjoon whispered faintly.

"More like a manifesto," Yoongi snickered, letting his eyes wander over the sheer thickness of the file.

"Silence!" For a split second, Yoongi wanted to make a jab about a chihuahua being able to bark, but having considered his own height, he chose to be silent.

"So, let's start with basics. Erik Genyer. Joined two and a half years ago through a recruitment agent. He's 24, lived in Seattle before moving here. No known parents or siblings." Jimin recounted with ease.

"I hope you didn't look through his records," Namjoon frowned at the screen. "Because I did not authorize that."

"Does it count as looking if it's a brief glance?"

"Yes."

"And yet here you are benefitting from it." Namjoon could only breathe through his nose a tad harder.

"Why are you telling us this?" Jin interjected. "Mr CEO here could just give us his file - we'd read for ourselves."

"I will not. That's against company policy."

"And what you're doing here is completely legal and non - invasive." Jin raised his eyebrows, not phased even in the slightest that he was much below Namjoon's position.

"Silence!" Jimin yelped again at the front. "Has anyone here worked with Erik?"

"Hope definitely has," V piped up from his seat, looking as uninterested as one could. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at him. V took the piercing glare in stride, haughtily turning away.

"Well, yes but..." Jimin shuffled on the stage almost awkwardly. "He has strictly declined the invitation to our little... boy band."

"Wait does that mean he could tell _̸̢͉̦͔̣͈̱̅́́̓͊̇̂̓́̕͝ͅ_̸̨̙͚̻̬͖͉̻͔̑̓͐͜ - I mean R.D.?" Jungkook suddenly asks, eyes wide. Even Yoongi blanched at the thought. Everyone straightened in their seats. This was all fun and games until the moment you knew. Oh, you'd rip each and every one of them a new asshole. All of them could kiss goodbye to any attempt of trying to mend bridges. By that point, there wouldn't even be a river stretching underneath.

"I sincerely hope not." Jimin whispers and they sit in a moment of silence, weighing the risks.

"Heh, hope not." Jin suddenly gives a breathy laugh solely to be met by a general aura of disapproval.

"It's not funny." Namjoon scolds slightly but, Jin being Jin, openly looks him into eyes and goes -

"I know."

Amidst the banter, JK raises his hand shyly.

"I trained with him for a short while."

"And what is he like?" Jimin's eyes almost sparkled at anyone giving an actual insight.

"He must be wearing contacts or something," Yoongi mused, pushing the cap of his water bottle around the table. He knew Jimin to be attractive. No one in the entire company would shut up about it, nevertheless, something about him seemed almost supernatural.

JK shrugged in response.

"A bit rude and careless but talented. He finished training early."

"Did it seem like he was particularly going after her?" Namjoon interrogated further. There was a deep scowl of resentment on his face.

"Uhh, no. I think he was interested in the cleaner department in general. Apparently, he spent most of his orientation there."

"He also spent a month in surveillance. Did you speak with him...V?" If V was surprised by Jimin addressing him personally, he didn't show it as he continued to inspect his nails.

"Didn't even know he was there."

"Why did he stay so long in the cleaner department?" Yoongi asked as he ran over the information on the screen. Besides the already mentioned month in surveillance and a week in networking and relations, this Erik hadn't even tried to apply anywhere else.

"Poor communication skills. I had to throw him out. That's why he was only there a week." Jin explained.

"So you spoke to him?"

"Well, no, Irina," he was interrupted by a hollow thud. Without prompt V had dropped his steel thermos onto the desk, tea splattering everywhere and staining JK's jacket in the process. Both of them fumbled to clean it up with anything they could. V dabbed the desk harshly, the wood creeking at every aggressive wipe. Yoongi saw Jin looking sideways, the same confused expression echoed on his face.

"Well, as I was saying, Irina, R.D.'s friend, I'm sure you're familiar, came to me, said he was causing trouble and asked to refer him."

"And you sent him to R.D.?"

Jin gave a deeply suffering sigh.

"No, I did not send him. I referred him to general management and they gave him to the cleaners ."

"Ok, I get all of this. But what are we supposed to do about him?" Namjoon interrupted, jaw set in a tight grip.

Jimin fell silent at the front of the room.

"Yeah, this was the main question." Yoongi thought bitterly.

It was all a question of ethics, wasn't it? JK could pretend all he wanted to be above it all, to be respectful but then he trailed secret circles around you. Whether from guilt or perhaps a sense of entitlement. Yoongi didn't know or really care. Nevertheless the kid clearly had a hard time differentiating between what he said and what he did. Yoongi was however surprised to see Namjoon be so eager. He quite fancied making himself bald from worrying about the nature of evil. Just how easy it was to hide it behind big aspirations of providing aid. But it seemed as of late all of that was tossed aside.

Jimin was the one who orchestrated this in the first place, and so naturally, everyone looked at him for guidance. He was still shuffling around, nervously fiddling the blue pen.

"Well, first of all, I think we should talk more to R.D." A huff passed around the room.

"Talk to her?" V asked sceptically, mouth set in a straight line and heavy wrinkles carved between brows.

"Do you have any idea how difficult that would be?"

"Certainly it would be for you," Yoongi snarled, earning a harsh glare.

"Listen, at the end of the day, it's not really about us trying to force her into something. It's just to make sure... she's living a safe life. Well, the safest that's possible." Jimin said with enough sincerity to trigger certain insecurities within Yoongi and by the look of it also Namjoon.

It was no secret that between the seven, they were the most possessive over you. Both having the wrong idea that you were theirs. Which is why you left and why you probably were so caught up in Jimin. The purity and sheer selflessness of his sentiments acted like a punch to the gut. The genuine care that he reflected like a sun made the raw wound in Yoongi's chest seep even more. To be loved like that would be a dream come true. Yoongi shifted his attention to the laminated floor.

"We talk to her, find out what her life is like, keep a close eye on what Erik does. Talk to other cleaners about him, and once we find out, she's happy. That's. The. End. Of. That." There was no uncertainty. Jimin was dead serious.

The meeting was adjourned, quite amicably actually, but Yoongi knew that the rest of them had ulterior motives and plans. He had them too.

Jin and JK were no threat. Both were too uncertain of what to do with you.

Jimin had some deep-seated self esteem issues. Despite his 123 slide presentation, the way he spoke made it clear. That's probably why the abrupt parting, Yoongi mused. Both of you most likely shared the same anxiety about not being good enough for the other.

V was just V.

Namjoon was the only one Yoongi was truly worried about. Even from looking at his back, walking headstrong up the stairs, Yoongi could see how stubborn Namjoon was. In a way, it was like looking in a mirror. The possessiveness, the mulish mindset. They'd saw you, all of you and had decided that this was it. Yes, Namjoon would certainly be the toughest rival. However, Yoongi was very good at playing the long game. Especially if he wanted something so bad it felt like his thorax slowly being ripped out.

All that was left was Hope. But he wasn't even a viable player. After all, he hadn't even shown up.

***

"Why the fuck is he so heavy?" Erik grunted, swaying left and right and holding onto his dear life to the bagged pair of legs.

"Rigor mortis...set in," you huffed in answer, from the upfront of the body. "At least he wasn't rotting already. That's just nasty. 1, 2, 3."

Both of you lift the body into the van and let the poor bastard drop with a soft thud. Sweat pooled underneath your white hazmat suit with plastic glasses digging straight into your brain. You banged hard against the "EMT" van, and it drove away, carrying Dr. Martin Leyster to the morgue.

Should the neighbours see anything, it was a sad story of a depressed psychiatrist accidentally overdosing on his own meds. The evidence of him manipulating his most vulnerable patients into bankruptcy erased in you any stray feelings of sympathy though.

"You have the peroxide?" You rifled through the cleanup bag, but instead of answering, Erik began to actively point somewhere behind your back. A cold chill ran up your spine as you realize someone has been watching you stuff the body in the trunk. It quickly dissipates when you see a familiar smile.

"Hard at work, I see," Hope whistled, bounding towards you more like a kid on a school trip, rather than what the reality was.

"May I borrow your mentor for a bit?" He asked politely, still smiling up at Erik. There was no warmth in his expression.

"You are after all now an official member of the cleaner crew. Surely you can handle this on your own."

Erik looks at you for a moment before giving a loud sigh and trudging back to Leyster's office, the white toolbox angrily swishing back and forth in his hand.

Without hesitation, you remove the glasses from your head, revelling in the ease of pressure. Hope had stopped smiling altogether, looking quite pensive.

"What brings you here?" You ask lightly. To see him here is not worrying per se, but certainly interesting. He gives a quick shrug.

"Nothing much. Wanted to see how you were doing after that runt's little stunt." You only laugh at the shallow animosity. Erik's talent to drive people out of their patience was truly remarkable.

"I'm doing fine. You know... working. What about you?"

"I've been working as well."

You both fall silent.

"You ever thought about leaving the BH?" He suddenly asked, and you quirk a brow at the question.

"Not particularly. Have you?" Hope focuses a blank gaze at the grey walls of the multi-story apartment complex.

"A little bit. Last few days especially." You stand in muted shock. Hope was the last person you thought would quit. He was, without doubt, the most devoted, the most passionate out of all the hundreds of employees. He lived for the cause, he himself said so. And yet now he stood uncertain in front of you. Not really the bright and friendly Hope everyone knew, not really the strict and somewhat terrifying training teacher. He was just...quiet. It was an upsetting scene.

"Do you want to go for a drink or a lunch, maybe?" You offer, reaching for the zipper of the white suit. Yes, Erik could handle this on his own. He was a big boy. Hope hastily placed his hand atop of yours, pausing the movement. Even through the fabric, it radiated warmth. No wonder people called him sun. He frowned at the conjoined hands, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles before lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"No, no. I don't want to burden you with my problems." You didn't believe his smile for a second.

"Well, I won't steal you away for much longer, the pup might get anxious." He turned around, by the looks of ready to sprint off.

"Hey, wait!" He paused, not looking back.

"Do you why JK has been stalking me?"

"He has?"

He had. The first time you noticed a shifting figure in the background, you wrote it off to the combination of hangover and exhaustion. The second time he'd run off into the night faster than you could catch up. The third time you nearly flung yourself off the roof when seeing a pair of doe eyes staring back at you from an empty apartment building.

"There isn't like an alliance going around between some of my... acquaintances?" Truth be told, you found the very idea ridiculous, but it had wormed its ugly way into your brain and was now near impossible to get out. JK, Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon wouldn't even get along with each other. Even though those four were most likely to meddle in your business. However, if looking realistically, it was probably just your paranoia taking an intensive round. Seeing suspicious cars, watchful eyes and snooping noses where there were none. Hope threw you a sardonic smile.

"That would just be stupid."

(a/n)

In this story people have their names and codenames and will be often used interchangeably. It all depends whether in the story the POV character knows the names of others or not.

[ahoney--girl]

Chapter 4

A little smut at the end a lot of set up everywhere else. 

Trigger warnings for blow job, self doubt, light BDSM 

“Butt plug?” 

“Green” 

“Blowjobs?” 

“Green” 

“Spanking?”

“Green” 

“Consent non consent?”

“Red” 

“Rope play”

“Yellow”

Johnny walked back from the kitchen handing me the plate with freshly made grilled cheese and some water. Smiling at him he took his spot back in the seat beside Jaehyun 

“Can I ask you something?” My voice wavered as I shifted in my spot on the couch. Looking from Johnny to Jaehyun they sat shirtless in front of me. “Anything sweetheart.” He smiled reassuringly almost hard to believe that he was the same man denying me my orgasm for 20 minutes straight only minutes ago. “I just was wondering if you have any rules uh for me to follow like  outside of the bedroom.” My voice trailed off towards the end, my eyes falling to my grilled cheese. As I bite into it a soft chuckle comes from one of the boys looking up. “Do you want rules baby?” Johnny questions his normal mischievous smirk growing into a smile. “I mean not if you don’t feel comfortable with it. I understand.” “Can I ask you, something sweetheart?” Jaehyun cuts in nodding as his response he smiles. “When did you discover you were a submissive?” His head turns as his eyes shine with curiosity.“You're in high school and yet you seem pretty informed about what you like and what you are open to. I must admit it's refreshing but curious.” Swallowing thickly my eyes shift back to the water on the table. “Last summer I had sex with my boyfriend and it was nothing.” There was a pause as I drank another swallow of water. “I felt completely unfulfilled and had no idea why. Then my best friend showed me this book she was reading. It was about a BDSM couple and it was like from the first page I just knew.” Shrugging I drag my eyes up the boys looking at me softly. “Can I ask you how did you all know you were dominant?” “Jaehyun knew he was one first.” Johnny starts. “He started researching after he saw Fifty Shades of Grey, he was telling me about it and I got curious ” Johnny turned to Jaehyun smiling sweetly. “We had already messed around a few times before so with my permission he introduced it into the bedroom and the rest is what? History.” He laughed resting his hand on Jaehyun’s knee. Winking at Johnny he gently wrapped his hand with his, before they turned back to me. “We started a club at school to help others like us explore and understand the community.” Jaehyun states. They both look so well fitted for each other matching perfectly do I fit into this though? “Okay so back to these rules baby girl.” Johnny’s once soft smile falls back into his mischievous smirk. As he leans forward, eyes dropping to my bare bottom half, "how do you feel about wearing a vibrate during school hours?"

“Open to page 24 and let's start the class discussion, is love at first sight possible?” Hands rose as I shuffled the pages to Romeo and Juliet.

“I feel like bringing up the topic of love when discussing Romeo and Juliet is counter productive.” Hannah’s voice pipes up. Her english class merging with ours today due to the teacher having a family emergency last minute was definitely not the best surprise. “And why is that?” The teacher prodes. “Because they don't love each other it's common knowledge they are two kids who are infatuated with each other, and that infatuation leads to death. If we begin putting love into the discussion it puts a rose tint over it all. As well as can be counterproductive to the discussion of mental health issue clearly petulant in the play.” She adjusted in her seat looking around as he hushed praise fell onto her ears at her augment. 

“So,now you are saying romeo and juliet have mental problems because they are young and in love?” Johnny's voice questions sternly cutting through to Hannah.

“There you go with that word again.” She turns her body so she can face Johnny head on in the half circle set up. 

“And what about seeing someone once and making your whole life about them to the point that you die, when you think they are dead is love?” Her head quirks to the side as she folds her hands on her desk ready for a retort.

“I’m not saying they took it too far but ever hear of puppy love? Or first love? Studies say that the the first time endorphins are released inside of your body it can be as similar to a drug high. So in other words being in love for the first time can be similar to being high 24/7.” 

“So no Romeo and Juliet is a metaphor for drug abuse.” 

“I think Romeo and Juliet can be a metaphor for many things if you look at it long enough but that's most art. What's prevalent to our discussion right now is that puppy love or first love is scientifically proven. Now does that justify the ending of the play? No. Does that justify the death and carnage that happened due to the two falling in love? No. Does it negate that they were in love with each other with the endorphins that only teenagers can be? No.” Johnny’s gaze leveled with Hannah as her body looked to be growing reder by the minute under her uniform. But she refuses to back down from the gaze.

“Well much to think about for the paper that is due in three days' class.” The teacher clapped his hand lifting his book up. “Let start with Romeo’s line.”

“Meet me by the janitor's closet.” 

~Your Jaehyun

“Don’t you have class in a few minutes?” “I have a free period and couldn’t stop thinking about your lips.” Jaehyun smiled, his hand coming to rest on my check as he leaned in kissing me sweetly.“How was your english period did Johnny behave?” Resting his head on my forehead his breath fanning over my lips. “Yeah he was so busy arguing with Hannah he didn't even glance at me.” My voice sounded more hurt than I intended, Eyebrows frowning as I shifted in these realizations. “Are you upset about that? Did you want all of Johnny's attention on your pretty self?” He leaned in kissing softly once again. Pulling away his tongue swipe dover my bottom lip. “No” I lie, eyes still closed form the tenderness of his kiss. “tsk, ts.k” Jaehyun’s hand on my cheek began floating down to my neck, his hand resting croft belly as he applied little pressure. “You don’t want to go breaking rule on your first day now would you sweetheart?” Shaking no. “Maybe I was a little jealous.” “Good girl.” His lips press a quick peck on mine before ghosting down to my neck kissing as he goes. “Now, do you want to make Johnny jealous?”

“1 new attachment” 

“Now let me see those beautiful eyes baby” my eyes followed to look directly into the screen as I lowered my head onto Jaehyun’s dick, moaning when he touched the back of my throat. “Fuck baby keep doing that and I defently won’t last.” smiling I moaned again Jaehyun’s hand holding the camera shook slightly at the feeling “is that what you want? Want me to come down your throat so that you taste me for the rest of the school day baby?” Nodding quickly my hand speeds up his stroking as my mouth meets its pase Jaehyun moans deeply his hand coming to stroke my cheek affectionately “you wish is my command baby”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Long Way From Home: Chapter 1

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott

His brothers are missing.  In their place is a family of strangers, the only explanation that makes any sense is beyond comprehension, and the only solution is impossible.  Scott Tracy’s never been so far from home.

Oh boy, so I’ve been working on this for literal months and it’s gonna be a hell of a ride.  Strictly speaking, I haven’t got far enough in writing this to be totally confident in starting to post it, but it’s Thunderbirds Day and quite frankly there is no day more perfect to start this particular adventure.  I have a vague plan to update this approximately weekly, but we’ll see how uni interferes with that...

Beep…  Beep…  Beep…

The shrill noise pierced his head unpleasantly.  It was familiar, frustratingly so, but as unconsciousness slowly permitted him to drift awake, he couldn’t find a single reason for it.  Who was hurt?

And why, he wondered as he peeled his eyes open briefly to see a sterile white ceiling, was he lying in a bed?  A hospital bed, with wires pressing against his skin.

His memories held no answer, for all that he probed at them.

The mission had been a simple one.  Solo, even, his brothers still fast asleep in their beds as the dead of night cradled home in its embrace.  A trapped climber was routine by this point – Alan likened it to International Rescue’s equivalent of the fireman’s cat up a tree, for all the comparison was somewhat inappropriate.  Grandma had told him off for that, when she’d heard him say it.  He hadn’t, seeing the humour.  Grandma had then told him off for not being a responsible adult and schooling his youngest brother.

The woman shouldn’t have been there, alone amongst the peaks of the Rockies with no backup as dawn broke to find her camp set up too close to a precipice and a simple rockfall cutting off any route she could take with the gear she’d had.  She’d made the call, and Thunderbird One had been dispatched to pick up the latest in a long list of stranded climbers.

After he’d set her down at the base of the mountains, he’d started talking with John about sending out a worldwide PSA to please be careful in the mountains.  It had started off a joke, something to keep his mind alert as he turned the beautiful red nose of his girl towards home, but he’d barely left the American coastline before their discussion took on a more serious note.  Too many climbers were taking risks that just never used to happen.  International Rescue was being taken for granted, and they only had so much capability to be in multiple places at once.

The beautiful, rugged spires of home had come into view, John signing off from the conversation for another of his cat naps, and he’d landed Thunderbird One safely in her silo without a hitch.  He remembered post-flight checks, making a note to check a minor issue with a shoulder harness later after some sleep, and then disembarking onto the extended gantry as usual.

Then, nothing.

Had he fallen from the gantry?  His brothers were periodically clucking about the lack of a handrail – Gordon, in particular, disliked it – but he’d never felt unsafe on it.  It was high above the hangar floor, however, and while the beep… beep… beep… steadfastly continued, he was in no pain.  An unchecked fall from that height would have left his body broken.

Experimentally, he flexed his fingers.  They obeyed instantly, hands curling into loose fists and then extending again. His toes responded equally positively. No paralysis, tricking him into thinking there was no injury, then.  Well, he’d always take good news, and more made itself known as he drifted a hand up to his head.  No lumps, bumps or bandaging of any sort.

In fact, there was no bandaging anywhere.  He’d spent enough time injured over the years to know the slightly itchy feeling of the fabric against his skin, but nowhere could he feel even the tight stickiness of a plaster clinging to his skin.

Thoroughly mystified at the information his memory and sense of touch were relaying, he opened his eyes again.  This time prepared for the white, he didn’t immediately close them again.  Instead, he looked around, realising with a sinking feeling that wherever he was, it wasn’t home.

The room was an infirmary of some sort, as he’d initially surmised.  With at least one other bed in clear view, and room for more between metallic tables and cabinets filled with meticulously organised jars and bottles, it was clearly private, rather than hospital-grade.  He was reminded of their infirmary at home, ready for use at a moment’s notice despite ignored prayers that it would never be needed and kept organised by the iron fists of Grandma and her willing protégé Virgil.

There was a window, though. At home, carved into the rock their villa was as much an extension of as an intrusion upon, the infirmary had no natural light source.  Artificial lights and holographic visages kept the room from being a dark dungeon. From his position on the bed, he couldn’t see outside, but the light streaming in through open blinds was entirely natural.

Most bizarre of all, however, was the technology surrounding him.  At a glance it seemed outdated, the light-up displays using something that seemed even older than LEDs and not a hologram in sight.  John would dismiss it as junk, he assumed, before realising that he had no idea what most of it was for.  Numbers flickered, not even digital but a flick-flick-flick of cycling cards. If not for the labels – tacky, raised lines of metal forming letters and words – the idea that it was monitoring his blood pressure and other vital signs would never have even crossed his mind.

Basic competence with standard hospital technology had been drilled into them all firmly by Grandma, even if only Virgil had taken it further than the fundamentals needed to keep someone alive long enough for professional medical help to arrive. Outdated technology had been included in that list, anything Grandma had ever used throughout her life a requirement because not everywhere had the technology of International Rescue, or even an up to date machine.

He could say with certainty that he wouldn’t even know where to start with the technology surrounding him. Logic dictated that that meant it was even older than Grandma, or state of the art beyond even Brains’ inventions, but neither felt right.

There was nothing primitive about the machinery, for all that he still maintained John would find it fit for the WRMs.  Brains and Virgil would be itching to take it apart, see how it worked and whether they could improve it, or find inspiration to improve their own.

Speaking of his family, it was odd that none of them were nearby.  Virgil almost always camped out if someone was injured or sick, and if he was away on a rescue another Tracy would step up to take his place.  Gordon never stopped talking when he was on infirmary duty, finding topic after topic to plough through until he found one the injured party reacted to and milked it for all it was worth.  Alan, in true teenager fashion, was a fidgeting wreck unless he had his games with him; it was not unusual for him to flop belly-down on an unoccupied bed with his headset on in his own form of company. John might not be capable of physically being in the room, unless it was so bad he’d felt compelled down from his beloved stars, but constant communication links allowed him to be tied in at all times.

Of all his brothers, it was John he was most surprised to have seen or heard nothing of since he awoke. His vitals should have been being streamed straight to Five, no matter where in the world he was – John would have known the instant he regained consciousness and responded accordingly. Even if, as he realised, his uniform and communicator had been relieved from his person.

Someone, presumably the person responsible for settling him in the unfamiliar infirmary, had changed him out of his flight suit and into soft, flannel pyjamas.  They were comfortable enough, even if they weren’t his usual style, and fit perfectly.  His uniform, he discovered with relief after another look around the room, was folded neatly on a chair.  Everything was there, his baldric still full of grapple packs, barring the one used up on the rescue, and the grapple itself, and the controls for remote piloting both One and his jetpack remained three per bracer.

Wherever he was, and whoever had put him there, it appeared no-one was interested in investigating International Rescue’s gear.  At least he could rule out the Hood, he supposed, although perhaps he’d have preferred their nemesis to the total unknown…

No, he decided after a moment’s deliberation.  He wasn’t quite that desperate.  He was unrestrained and his gear was safe.  That automatically made the situation far better than anything involving the Hood.

Still, too many questions and no answers for any of them spurred him into action.  Pushing himself up into a sitting position, wires tugging futilely before falling away and sending the machines into a frenzy, he steeled himself to make a break for it – out of the room and hopefully ending up somewhere that would give him the answers he needed.

The door opened as beeps turned into squeals, and he turned towards the new arrival, hoping to see Virgil or Grandma, hands on hips as they chivvied him back into bed.

It was not Virgil or Grandma.  Nor was it any of his other brothers.

Sharp blue eyes surveyed – analysed – him, set into a face that was hard to read.  Furrowed brows gave the stare an almost disturbing intensity as his conscious state was registered; they were almost the same colour as the mop of short dark brown hair on the man’s head.  Dimples that, if coupled with a smile, could bedazzle and disarm anyone completed the look, and he felt his jaw drop slightly before strength of will forced it shut again.

Standing in front of Scott Tracy, arms crossed and wearing a look of cautious suspicion he knew all too well, was Scott Tracy.

Chapter 2>>>

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 26

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 26: Mosley’s interference with Ella’s family and her marriage is becoming more and more clear. 

        Ella did her best to forget the leering look that Mosley had given her. But even a week later, she couldn’t get his smug look out of her nightmares. Everything about the man gave her a bad feeling. She thought Tommy was thick for even making an acquaintance with him. But according to Ada, their brother was doing far more than that.

           It took an unnatural amount of patience to not disown Tommy again. No matter how tempting it was, Ella knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good.

           She was sure that if she didn’t have Alfie, she would’ve gone mad a long time ago. But her husband kept her sane, kept her grounded, and always reminded her what true love was.

           One night, she decided to drop in at the bakery about half an hour before Alfie usually closed up. She needed to relieve some stress but didn’t necessarily need it to be in a comfortable way. Instead, she just wanted a good thrill.

           Most of the men had already gone home by the time Ella came through the bakery, heading towards Alfie’s office. Everything was normal until she reached his office. There, she saw a woman standing in front of Alfie’s desk. Her husband sitting and listening to her. Something wasn’t right. Sure, Alfie could speak to other women, that wasn’t an issue. There were plenty of women in the community who knew him well. But Ella couldn’t think of any who would visit Alfie so late in the evening, unaccompanied.

           Ella knocked on the doorjamb and pointedly cleared her throat. Her husband glanced up with a smile. The unfamiliar woman turned, her eyes going a bit wide.

           She was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous, in fact. No one could deny that. It was almost as if she’d arrived right from Hollywood. A beautiful actress with pristine red lipstick, an alluring smoky eye, a figure-defining black dress, and shiny blonde hair.

           “Miss Davis, this is me wife, Ella. Ella, this is Miss Davis. Your brother sent her along for a potential deal.” Alfie introduced and stood up to greet Ella.

           “My brother?” That didn’t ring true one bit. Tommy wouldn't do that. On a rare occasion, he may have asked before doing such a thing.

           “Mr. Shelby said your husband was someone to talk to about London business.” The young woman explained but there was a waver in her voice. A tell of a loss of confidence.

           Ella knew she was lying. “What business are you in, Miss Davis?” She gravitated possessively toward Alfie.

           “My late husband ran a successful law firm. I’m doing my best to keep it running.”

           “And my brother sent you here to get help for that?” Ella questioned again.

           “El, everything alright?” Alfie frowned.

           The woman seemed shaken by Ella’s presence. “Well, it’s getting late. Perhaps I ought to send you a telegram instead, Mr. Solomons.” She smiled and backed towards the door. “I hope to hear from you soon.”

           “Nice to meet you.” He nodded.

           Ella’s eyes narrowed, watching the stranger leave. “What a load of…”

           “Here.” He held up a small business card between his index and middle finger.

           “What’s this?”

           “It were stuck to the back of the fake business card she gave me.” He explained as she took it from him. "Like you, I found the exchange very strange. But that seems to offer some solution."

           She read the information on the card and her blood began to boil. “That snake. What on Earth is he up to?”

           “You should ask your brother.” Alfie shrugged. “They’re apparently close now, ain’t that right?”

           Oswald Mosley. Why would Mosley’s card be in this woman’s purse? Why would she give Alfie a fake card? “He’s going to get this family in another situation where our lives are on the line.” Ella was so angry she began to pace, waving the embossed card in the air.

           “I’ll try to talk to him, love, but you know what happens when I try.” Alfie folded his arms over his chest.

           “He’s using dope.” She informed her husband. “I found it in his desk and he lashed out at me. That fucking hypocrite.” She made a frustrated noise and threw her hands up. “I went against my better judgment and started to trust him again. And this is what I get? His new ally is making plans with you and me?”

           “Easy, El, maybe he’s got a handle on things.”

           She turned around quickly to give him a look of disbelief. “Are you honestly defending him?”

           “Not defending him, but he must have a reason.” He shrugged.

           “That’s the problem, he can justify anything.” With a deep sigh, she walked around the desk and plopped down in Alfie’s lap. Pouting, she curled into herself.

           He wrapped his arms around her and placed a comforting kiss on her hair. “It’ll be alright, love, I’ll talk to him. But don’t give up on him. If he’s using then I’m sure he needs you. You two are close, yeah?”

           “If you said something like that a few years ago I would’ve thought you’d been replaced by a doppelganger. My Alfie, concerned about Tommy Shelby.”

           He chuckled and shook his head. “You get more docile as you age, I s’pose.”

           “Not him. He’s just running himself into the ground and taking us all with him.”

           Alfie didn’t answer, he just hummed in acknowledgment and held her. “Why’d you drop in so late?” He wondered. "I were on my way home, you could've rang."

           The question only made Ella’s frown deepen in disappointment. “It was meant to be a surprise.” She grumbled.

           “Yeah?” He gently squeezed her hips. “Just popping in to make me day?”

           Ella bit her lip and turned around to straddle his hips. Perhaps the moment wasn't lost after all. “I went shopping too.” She toyed with the buttons on her long wool coat.

           Alfie perked up. “Oh yeah? What’d you get, love?”

           “Something for you.” She leaned forward to kiss him.

           He gladly accepted the kiss, inhaling her rose perfume. It always gave him a high that was unmatched. Sometimes it felt like he knew Ella’s body better than his own. How many minutes, hours, days, had he spent indulging in her soft skin, shivering when her dark hair tickled him, hypnotized by her blue eyes, and all of his nerves electrified? It never felt like enough. He could never get enough of her.

           Pulling away from the kiss, Ella got up to close and lock the office door. She drew the blinds of the windows as well just in case. Alfie ran his hands over his thighs, licking his top lip in anticipation. “You’ve kept me in enough suspense love.” He protested.

           She turned and began to undo the buttons of her coat, revealing the thin black nightgown with lace trimmings and stockings to match.

           Alfie looked like he’d taken a significant blow to the stomach. “Fucking hell.” He dragged out, lust in his voice. He stood up with a groan and walked over to her. “Look at you.”

           “I don’t want to think.” Ella wrapped her arms around his neck and touched her lips to his ear. “Just for an hour or two, I don’t want to have to think about anything.”

           Her husband sensed the urgency in her voice. They all needed somewhere to escape. He was just glad she could escape to his arms. It made him feel he was doing something right. “What do you need from me, love?” He murmured.

           “Just take me as yours. Make the decisions. Make me forget my own fucking name.” She begged quietly.

           So, he did. And for a moment, Ella really felt like there was nothing outside the office door. In fact, the entire world was contained within that room. They were the only two people left alive. There was nothing to worry about except each other. Alfie held her so close, she gripped onto him so tightly. They both bruised.

           The sun dipped below the horizon by the time they were spent. A little weak in the knees, Ella perched on the edge of Alfie’s desk to fix her stockings. His office had thoroughly taken a beating. Everything had been swept off his desk onto the floor, papers spilled everywhere. They’d knocked the desk chair into a cabinet, causing a bit of a dent in the metal. Alfie pushed Ella against the wall so hard that a picture frame fell to the ground, the glass and frame cracking.

           But they were both too satisfied to care.

           After dressing, Alfie came to stand between Ella’s knees. “I love you.” He murmured and kissed her softly.

           “I love you too.” She smiled up at him. “I’m glad you weren’t swayed by that ‘Miss Davis’.” She grumbled and stood up to find her coat among the fray.

           He scoffed. “I ain’t never had a thing for blondes. I much prefer darker hair.” He caught her around the waist from behind, pulling her close to his chest. “With blue eyes. Blue eyes like the fucking clearest topaz I’ve ever seen. Beautiful with a wit to match. Girl with the biggest heart.” He kissed down her neck.

           Ella smiled and closed her eyes in bliss. She didn’t want to leave their little world, not quite yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           It felt like an endless string of birthdays. First, it was Ruby’s, then Polly’s, and finally Lizzie’s. Ella didn’t mind, but she wasn’t in much of a mood for festivities. Especially when she got the invitation to Lizzie’s party, something extravagant and over the top. No doubt Britain’s elite would all be invited and if Tommy was keeping up his charade that meant Mosley would be attending. And that made Ella sick to her stomach.

           But she was getting ahead of herself.

           On the day of Ruby’s birthday, Ella packed the presents into the car and drove out to Arrow House. Alfie was working but sent along his well wishes.

           The birthday girl was thrilled to see her aunt arrive. She ran outside as the car pulled up the gravel drive. “Auntie El, auntie El!” She squealed.

           “Look at you all dolled up!” Ella scooped up her niece and kissed her cheek. “Did mummy get you that dress?”

           Ruby nodded. “For my birthday.”

           “You look like a proper lady.” She carried her inside to greet Lizzie. “Where’s Charlie?”

           Lizzie’s face fell a little. “He’s still upset about Dangerous. Spends nearly all his free time in the stables.” She explained.

           “Brother’s sad.” Ruby pouted.

           “Want me to go talk to him?” Ella set her niece down.

           “You can try.” Lizzie bit her lip. “But I’m afraid it won’t do much good. Will hardly speak to anyone, especially Tommy.”

           “I’ll be back,” Ella promised and headed out back toward the stables. As she walked across the lawn, she remembered the time she spent at Arrow House in all the different periods of her life. It felt like ages ago when she arrived to celebrate her brother’s wedding to Grace. Her standoff with him in the stables about Alfie. It felt almost unfathomable to think about all the things she’d been through since then. A marriage, multiple losses, a miscarriage, an addiction, sobriety. For a moment, it didn’t even feel like she lived those events. Instead, they were someone else’s story. A drama that she had been watching play out from the audience. But no matter what, she woke up with the scars.

~~~~~~~~~

           The stable was warmer than the chill outside as Ella stepped inside. She found Charlie sat on a step stool near the tack.

           “I was sad you didn’t come out to greet me.”

           The boy looked up. He appeared happy to see his aunt for a moment before the sadness in his eyes returned. “Hi, Auntie El.” He greeted gloomily.

           She smiled weakly and found a bale of hay to sit on. “Mum says you’re still down about Dangerous.”

           Charlie nodded absentmindedly, looking down at his hands.

           “I know how hard it is to lose a horse.” Ella tried to sympathize with him. “I remember losing my first horse and I was very sad. But I promise things will start to look up.”

           He shrugged half-heartedly. “Why did dad have to kill him?”

           Ella winced. “It’s hard to understand sometimes. But Dangerous was in a lot of pain. Sometimes…sometimes it’s better to let the horse rest instead of living in pain. There are things that you can’t cure.”

           “Dad said death is a kindness.”

           Ella thought about her time at Margate when she was still addicted to the morphine. The pain that she suffered through when she was between doses. The strong urge to sleep. Go to bed knowing that she’d never have to wake up again. The thoughts came from such a dark place and it was alarming to recall them. Alarming because she realized that must be where her brother was. The dope was a good enough indicator but hearing Charlie recount what Tommy said was enough to give her concern. They were Shelbys after all. They were cursed.  

           “Let’s go inside, aye? I’ve got presents for Ruby that you can help her open.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Ella planned on staying the night at Arrow House instead of driving back to London. When Tommy returned home, she requested to speak with him. They had a lot to talk about but she had a feeling he was going to be a pill about it.

           After he settled behind his desk, she began. “I need you to be honest with me.”

           “I’m always honest with you, El.” Tommy pulled out a cigarette to light.

           “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me so we don’t have to argue. Tom, I know how deep you’ve gotten. You’re drowning and you’re looking for a way out.”

           “I don’t follow.” He was looking at her but avoiding her eyes.

           “Let me just say that if anything were to happen to you. No matter what it was, you’d be leaving your entire family behind. The family that needs you for better or worse. This family can’t take another loss, we just can’t.”

           It was clear in his face that he knew exactly what his sister was talking about. Sometimes he hated how intuitive she could be. “Okay.” He nodded.  

           Well, at least he’d heard her piece. Sometimes that was all she could. Make sure he heard her. “Secondly, we need to speak about your involvement with Mosley.”

           “Your husband already called me about the matter.”

           “That’s fine, now we can discuss it.” She didn’t care whether Alfie had talked Tommy’s ear off already.

           Tommy cleared his throat and gestured for her to continue.

           “He sent a woman to my husband’s office only minutes before closing. Whatever his intentions are, they’re evil. He’s looking to control you, Tom. He's looking to ruin this family. I think you of all people would be able to see right through his act.”

           “Ella, listen very carefully to me.”

           “Don’t take that tone with me.” She retorted with a warning.

           He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to listen or are you going to interrupt me.”

           Disgruntled, Ella kept her mouth shut.

           “You’re right, he’s an evil man with evil intentions. That’s why I’m doing this. Fascism won’t have a place here in Britain if I can help it. He’s the messenger. We kill the messenger; we kill the message.”

           “What if he creates more chaos before you have the chance? You can’t just kill a member of Parliament and expect to get away with it.”

           Tommy set his cigarette to the side. “All I can do is assure you I have a solid plan.”

           “And I’m supposed to trust you.”

           He simply shrugged. That was something he knew well. He couldn’t force anyone to trust him.

           Ella took a step away from his desk with a sigh. “Frances is going to bring Ruby’s cake out soon.”

           “Have you and Alfie ever thought about adopting?” Tommy asked out of the blue.

           She looked surprised. “Erm, no. We haven’t talked much about children after…well.” She sighed. Despite her time with the Lees and with Isabel’s council, she found it difficult to talk about her miscarriage. “Why?”

           “Just wondering.” Tommy stood up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “C’mon.” He walked with his sister to the parlor.

           Ella didn’t think too much of what Tommy mentioned after that night. Mostly because her curious thoughts were quelled by the arrival of Johnny Dogs and Aberama. Both badly wounded and shouting in the drive.

           As Lizzie brought the children upstairs, Ella hurried out after Tommy.

           “The man’s gone fucking mad, Tom!” Johnny shouted, clutching his ribs and trying to crawl away from Aberama.

           “They killed him. My son!” Aberama shouted, holding a gun with one arm. “They shot him and put him up on a fucking cross and he’s fucking dead!”

           Ella was startled in her path. The words were too chilling to be real. Bonnie wasn’t dead. He was perfectly fine. Aberama had just lost his mind. That was all. Just lost his mind. They’d all lose their minds at one point or another.

           “I swear to God, I never told a soul.” Johnny moaned in pain.

           “My fucking son! They fucking took him from me!” Aberama continued to rant loudly.

           Tommy held his hands out, trying to calm him down. “Your shoulder is shattered. If you don’t get it fixed; you’ll lose your arm.” He spoke steadily as if talking to a spooked stallion.

           “They crucified my son, for you!” His voice broke with grief.

           That’s when it started to dawn on Ella. These were no ramblings of a mad man. These were the anguish cries of a father who lost a son. She was about to ask who did it when gunshots had her dropping to the ground. Instinct had her protecting her abdomen.

           “Get away from my house!” Lizzie shouted.

           Tommy walked over his sister and snatched the gun away from his wife. “Everyone, enough!” He roared. The night went silent again. A peaceful night in the countryside. He turned and helped Ella up. “Everyone quit it.” His voice lowered and he turned to Aberama. “If you want to take on the Billy Boys, you need me. Everyone fucking needs me.” He glared back at Lizzie. “Call an ambulance or a man loses his arm.”

           Ella stood frozen in the driveway. Bonnie. Crucified. “Tom, who are the Billy Boys?” She whispered as he passed by her.

           “Mosley’s foot soldiers.” He muttered as he helped Johnny up and to the house. Lizzie and Aberama entered the house as well, leaving Ella outside by herself. She looked up at the stars in the sky. She closed her eyes when she felt tears welling up. The sound of the gunshot echoed in her ears and made her stomach ache.

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Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[call-me-merlyn]

I found a list of my favorite things you ever said to me. I cried in a way that I haven’t since I was a small child- broken by my parents’ words, mistakes, and anger. I curled my knees to myself and remembered that I can do hard things. I started to wonder where we went wrong. Because my feelings for you never changed. But then I realized that was never the issue. These words I read now ring as true today as they did over the four years you wrote them. But I want them back. I want you back. I want pragmatism and growth. I want to talk about the hard things and work them through. But I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything because you don’t want to hear it. Because you’re hurt and you want space. So if you stumble upon this blog- the one I told you not to look at all those years ago- I will let a few snippets of your words remind you. Mind you, these are 12 out of about 30.

1. Baby. I want the future with you. It just hit me so hard. I want the visions I have. I want us and I don't see that changing. We are the most beautiful couple I have ever encountered. Not just because we're both convinced the other is drop dead gorgeous, but because I see such magnificent potential in us, together. We are that rare couple that could actually have the dream life that everyone wants and fears is impossible or that they don't deserve it. Health, happiness, adventures, perfect children, successful careers, growth and excitement, cuddles, intellectual stimulation, respect for each other, kisses that leave us breathless, freedom, good friends that we both care about, a lovely home, a dorky dog or five, all the sex we can handle, our families coming together wonderfully, and true fucking love. I want it all with you and I believe that we can have it with all my heart. Ugh I want it and I'm so excited to build towards the future we want. With you. Every damn day, one day at a time.

2. Morning love. To build a home? I'll always like yours more. I'm binging your music this morning. Speaking of songs that make me cry. Night in shining armor? I love that whole analogy. Your words are one of my favorite things about you. I love the music that spills from your lips, whether you're singing or laughing or reading or teasing me. It's all heavenly music to my ears. I'm so proud to be your person, your once and future someone. I love you so much. The dark times have passed baby, you brought the light back into my life.

3. This one's hard to explain. I've never met someone who is such a clean harmony. Your identity, your character, is a beautiful, pure chord. Every interaction I have with you I hear that resonance, and the notes weave together perfectly. That chord resonates with who I am on such a deep level, and I could hear it from the very first moment we interacted. I want to listen to that chord every day, to hear it form your melody, day in and day out. Puzzle out it's layers and listen to you add more. And to play my own song to match yours, to create our own wonderful song in this life.

4. You elicit feeling so well with words, sometimes it makes me feel inadequate

The way you express yourself so effortlessly

Because I've always prided myself on communicating verbally

But it comes pretty effortlessly to me too

Especially when I talk about you

I know I keep coming back to this, I'm sorry

But it resonates so strongly with me

To imagine you as a song, chord, or melody

The way your music weaves with mine

Haunting, ethereal, and divine

You make my eyes and heart shine

With love and affection, at my most painful times

When I can't feel it about myself

You come to my house and put happy memories upon my shelf

I want to show you how much you mean to me

So that you will always see

You are my light

And in the middle of the night

When I roll over and feel your breath

On my neck, I don't fear death

Because a life next to you is a life worth living

The love I have for you is a love worth giving

5. I was watching How I Met Your Mother, and to be honest that show really means a lot to me. I'm not sure why I bonded it with it so hard, it feels kind of silly in retrospect, but I did. In the episode, the main character runs into the girl who left him at the altar for another man, and they talk about true love and who you choose to be with. And the guy has an open moment about his yearning for that special connection that people find so rarely. That spark between people that's so unique and magical when it occurs. The song Careful by Michelle Featherstone plays in the background. I'm sure you've heard it, and it just pulled at my heartstrings. Maybe listen to it as you read this? Bc I am as I write. It makes me think of you. I've said it before, and the words fall flat, but I'm so damn grateful for you. Every piece of you. The fractals, the perfectly formed little moments of unadulterated Merlyn, that come together to form this perfectly cohesive being of fucking light. You know me. And I don't like to admit that I falter, or that I need help from anyone. It goes against what I've been trained to be by my father, my experiences, and my own cynical nature. Before you walked into my life...I wasn't entirely happy. I was missing something. I could feel it. And it made me ache. I went looking for it everywhere, even though I wasn't sure what it would look like when I found it. But I knew how it would feel. And you... you rescued me. From my own damn self. I'm prone to loneliness for a number of reasons. I'm solitary. I like to be independent. I'm proud. I can be harsh and judgmental. I get exhausted by humanity. I can be very sensitive when I'm vulnerable, and I don't like to give more than a handful of people the power to touch my heart. But since you walked into my life? I don't have to look anymore. I have never felt such constantly genuine, gentle, fierce, and unselfish support from anyone. Not from my parents, not from friends, my cousins, my lovers. No one has ever looked at me the way you do. No one has ever been so unyieldingly loving. Every time I have trusted you with more of my heart and my self, you do your absolute best to make me feel valued and loved. No matter how that best manifested, I have always felt your effort. You are always careful with my heart. I used to carry around this utter, soul crushing feeling that I missed someone. Someone vital. But there was no one to miss. And I didn't know where to direct that desire for connection. I got lonely because I wanted someones company...that I didn't know. But since I met you, I haven't felt that even once. I have only rarely felt lonely, and even in those moments, it was because I fucking missed YOU. Your laugh, your touch, our connection. And that's such a revelation to me. To know the face of the person I feel I've been missing all this time. It's been you. I love you, Merlyn. You are an unparalleled treasure to me.

6. God damn it Merlyn, I have so much love for you. I'm so lucky to have you, the thought of losing you is a nightmare. I want late night quesadillas and then to push each other to eat right. I want to scoff at each other's baby names until we get to ones we both love. I want to be your shoulder to lean on, cry on, or try to dislocate with a kimura. I want yours to be the same for me (maybe without the kimura bit?) I want to sing duets with you and write stories on lazy Sunday afternoons. I want to make you grin and I want to make you bite your lip. I want to hear your breathing every night when I go to sleep. I want to put Tristan on my shoulders, have a debate with Chris, try to get your cat to like me. I want you to cuddle into me and let me hold you at night even when I get hot because you're the most precious fucking thing in the world to me. I want you to train with my dad and shop with my mom. I want to get drinks with your mom and laugh at your dad's dirty jokes. I want to travel with you, go jet skiing on tropical islands and throw snowballs at each other in the mountains. I want to walk around crowded cities with you until I get too anxious but you tell me to chill out and stop being such a baby about it. I want to hear my daughter call you mother. I want to see you spin like you did when I first walked you home. Nothing brings me more joy than the thought of sharing the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between with you. Nothing is worth jeopardizing that future for me. I love you with all that I am. Count on it.

7. I just read all your words top to bottom and they hit me hard. I've been looking at them as bits and pieces. One day, one note at a time, not a tapestry. All together in one sitting, I can just feel where your heart was, and maybe still is. I hope it still is in some ways, because I've never been loved like how you love me. Not with such admiration or surety. I've never been wanted the way you want me. It makes me feel simultaneously unworthy and determined to live up to your love. It breaks me to feel the pain in your pen strokes. I want to wrap you up in my arms and fend away anything that would ever make you cry. I hate myself sometimes for making you cry. It breaks me every time, a corruption of my purpose. Every time, to read the simple words "today was hard..." It rips me apart. I love, live to see you smile. To laugh with you. To make music with you, whatever the form. I'm sorry for all the pain I've ever caused you, my darling. It's never my intention. You are my most precious gift, and words fall short of expressing the breadth and complexity of my feelings for you. They boil down to what you've written over and over again though: I want this life with you. I want all the complications, all the routine days, all the late night phone calls, and the adventures. I want to walk around knowing we have the same last name. I want you. Endlessly I want you. I wish I could pull a fragment of that feeling out of my chest and give it to you just so that you'd understand. God I miss you. I love you. You are my partner, and I hope that stays true for the rest of our lives. I can't say it enough. You are everything to me. I want you to express every part of you, never stop, because I love them all. Every mellifluous note in your melodies, every word of poetry in your fascinating mind, every fierce moment on the mat, every tear that falls in your fragile, vulnerable moments. I want to be there. To give you love and to be the best partner I can be. For you. God I can never say enough

8. Kay I'm heading to bed so gonna write this out. It's difficult. Love defies definition by its very nature. Which is a paradoxical statement right out the gate but whatever. I started writing my response in a philosophical approach but it didn't feel right. There's no need to ramble about Forms or essence or any of that philosophy mumbo jumbo. All that matters is how you opened my eyes. I used to think that love was about passion above and to the detriment of everything else. I used to think that love and pain were joined at the hip, inseparable. I used to fear that love was a curse, a burden, a surrender. I used to think that to fall for someone was a trap, and that you were taking a terrible gamble by giving someone the power to destroy you. I used to think that relationships were ropes and that love was a noose. I used to think that love was jealous, demanding, forceful, combative. I used to think that love was sporadic and messy. I used to think that there was no true, sustainable happiness to be found. You've turned it all around. Hell, you've upended the board and thrown away the rulebook. You've shown me that love is a balance of passion and choice, that they should play off each other build each other up. One is useless without the other. Passion will burn you out, but so too can you drown going through the motions. I've been through both. You're the only one that has struck the balance with me. You've shown me that the only necessary pains from love are the growing pains. I've been given and dealt horrible wounds, been through wars. Our relationship is the only one in which both parties can put their weapons down. You've shown me that love is a tank of oxygen when you're drowning, a shoulder to lean on, an investment. Trusting you with my heart has liberated and empowered me. I believe that trusting me with yours has done the same for you. We use that understanding of each other to lend strength, to give joy, to protect. You've shown me that relationships are lanterns and that love is the sun. You lit up my world. You've shown me that love is generous, thoughtful, gentle, supportive. You've shown me that it's steady and pure. You've shown me that happily ever after isn't just in storybooks. It's attainable. We have an obligation to chase it. We've been given a gift. And I will be grateful for it for the rest of my life. I will cherish it. I will cherish you. You've given me everything. You are my true love. Goodnight I hope you sleep well

9. Darling, gorge yourself on my love

I pray to God that it’s enough

To fill you up and keep us above

The water line of that rising slough

Darling, gorge yourself on my heart

I pray to God it’s what you need

Ignore the pain in the darker part

Come home again to me to feed

Darling, gorge yourself on my mind

I pray to God it’s what you want

Those angry echoes you may find

Don’t let them drive you from this haunt

Darling gorge yourself on me

I pray to God I’m what you crave

I know I’m flawed but I can be

The one who saves you, the one you save

Oh darling, I’ll gorge myself on you

On your mind and body, heart and soul

So darling, gorge yourself on me too

To keep us human, keep us whole

10. I want us to be tethered by the sea, to back each other to the hilt, to paint the walls red with love, to get lost in the light. Baby I promise I will take true care of you, tell you that some things last, and know you better than your piano. Because you found me. You came out of nowhere, you made me fall in love with a single touch, and this ain't a haunted house no more. I can't take my mind off of you. Only you can help me to forget the terror that comes and goes in waves. You keep me warm, and I know that all will be well and we'll be just fine. So don't give up love. Three more months, flyin your way home to me. We'll be inches apart and even closer at heart. So send me your location, cause I'm jealous of the wind that ripples through your clothes. Put your eyes on me, and I know a place that we can get away. Say you won't let go, tell me it's real, and let's go somewhere only we know. We won't need to take our clothes off to have a good time, but I'll get the lights and you lock the door, cuz we won't leave that room til we both feel more. Cause I see it all without the lights. No one will ever see you the way my eyes do. You are something to behold. Elegant and bold, you are unforgettable. You are the fire and the flood. Last night I woke the fuck up, realized I never wanted anything so much as to drown in your love. If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts could tell. I feel life for the very first time: love in my arms and the sun in my eyes. Ohh I fall apart, and I can't help falling in love with you. I still can't believe that I found love where it wasn't supposed to be. Right in front of me. At (college). I made a fumbling play for your heart, and the act struck a spark. I want to be with you for the rest of my life and beyond. No grave can hold my body down. I'll crawl home to you and go straight into your arms. I'm in love with all that you are.

11. You always wonder about the future. What makes you different from the others. There are infinite answers, but some of the biggest ones are that..you make me understand and feel things that people always say but never mean. Until you, I've never truly wanted all of someone. And I mean it when I say I want ALL of you. I am in love with every inch of you, every word that comes out of your mouth, every little habit, every quirk. I have wanted every piece of you in every moment that I've known you without fail. I have never adored anyone or anything so much. You are perfection to me. In the truest sense of the word baby. You make the cliches make sense. You make them feel not cliche. It's incredible. You make sense in my bones. I am so in love with you. I can picture nothing more glorious than a life with you. That's how I know you're the one. Because it's obvious. And when it's right, it should just he obvious. Easiest choice in the world.

12 Goodnight ____. I hope you sleep well. I really enjoyed hanging out and listening to you play tonight. I know you were half joking about how I should be paying you compliments, but your music abilities really are such a gift. It always makes me happy when you use them. You get this energy about you that’s so wonderful to see. I’m listening to your soundcloud stuff again now. Been a while since I’ve done that, haven’t had access to the account for a bit. I wish you had more of your stuff on here. It’s all so lovely. It always makes me think about us. You don’t seem to care for it much, but especially To My Future Someone. I hope I live up to all you dreamt I’d be when you wrote those words. I hope to the gods I’m the one you sang about. Because you are everything I ever wanted in a true love, and more. Things that I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve made me a kinder, much more grateful man. And a happier soul. You deserve the best in this world, and I’ll always do my utmost to be him. I’m so in love with you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, my light. Sweet dreams.

When did the thought of losing me stop being a nightmare? Because the hurt was never more than this. Never more than this love. You said in another snippet that you’d do anything to be the person I built a home with; you’d do your best to be the my person and to never hurt me. But you don’t want to be with me. And you chose your nightmare over your dreams. And I still choose you. I still chose you every second of every fucking day. It was my nightmare too and I’m living it.

But, I’m changing. I’m harder now. The tears don’t fall quite as easily as they used to. And at least I know who I am now. I am a warrior. I am beautiful. I am strong. I am new. Don’t think 8 weeks can change someone?? Come see me again. I’ll show you exactly who I’m not anymore. The only thing that hasn’t changed is my love for you.

And if you want to lose these words and this love, so be it. I won’t fight you. I won’t fear you or that anymore. I don’t want to be the only one fighting. I can’t. And I won’t be afraid of my worst nightmares because they have come true and even though I pray I won’t lose you, nothing in this life is certain. If you don’t want to fight, I will be someone else’s light someday. And I will shine unashamed; unabashed; strong and sure. I will bring beautiful children, music, and love into the world. But until then, I’ll be my own light, and set my darkness aflame every morning, just as I have since the day you left. After all, there’s not much darkness left anymore.

[lovecanbesostrange]

There was no reason for Station 19 to go that hard on all fronts, but wow they did. I honestly watched S1+2 mostly out of habit, but S3 was like cleaning house, setting everybody up as a character with their personal flashback gave them far more layers and now I truly care. Thanks. Well, and then Grey’s happened and I cried for like half the episode...........

Maya and Jack have definitely profitted the most from the shift in tone and the character development overhaul. And I liked both their storylines. Maya dealing with all that crap from her father and coming to terms with why she maybe isn’t 100% ready for this very steady relationship and sharing all her emotions was great. Can she tell Carina everything she told Andy? In almost exactly this way, please? Because being afraid of slipping and finding these moments and naming what she has trouble with adjusting to - that is all good. And Carina is one of the most compassionate and patient people (from the limited scenes we have had with her over the years). Dear Maya, if you communicate, she will be there for you.

And wow, Carina than talking about her home and her own fears. Magnificent. Early days of covid? All the horrible, horrible news from Italy come to mind. So thanks writers for building that international bridge. (I wonder how any Italian tv shows that will incorporate the pandemic will deal with this. Every country has their very unique story in this.)

Of course we will see nice side characters getting covid and probably die. Gonna keep my fingers crossed for Marsha nonetheless. Jack having this make-shift family did wonders for his character and I don’t want him to take a blow. It’s a found family on the side, not bound by trade and I like it. I love that thanks to Marcus the masks with plastic windows were mentioned (even tying back to Dr. Riley’s visit to Grey-Sloan. Good job.

Well, Miller and Sullivan. That all happened. And I am exactly 0% qualified to discuss the issues raised. I do empathise with Sullivan a bit more (not that I dismiss Miller’s points, because like Sullivan and Warren say, he is right). Because I absolutely hate this thing were being part of a (minority) group makes you the spokesperson and you get judged far more harshly. And then also taking in-group crap about it. Yes, it is how the world is. But it’s unfair. (And tbh luckily Sullivan hurt mostly himself and he did stand up and face any consequence coming his way. And yes, he was the kind of person to always tell everybody else to better not make mistakes *blablabla* and look, he fell down that high horse... I do think that is something Miller pointed out very rightfully.)

Glad Travis talked to his dad. And I do like the way he did. Just letting him know he knows and leaving that door open. His breakdown about how the church/religion is letting gay people down, while so many sins are just forgiven... damn. Hard to watch. And if just one viewer watching suddenly went like “huh, fucked up”, it was worth it.

Vic is the unsung hero of this episode. I loved how she kept defending that drugged up dude. Yes, he is stupid and it’s horrifying that he stays with his obviously abusive wife, but also keeps drugs around and just... lives like this. But she kept talking about how he didn’t mean to hurt anybody else and that he needed help far more than punishment. Travis and Vic are both good people, but in that situation I think most of us would react more like Travis. Being annoyed, mouthing back and wanting those two shut the fuck up. It’s a normal reaction. What Vic said is the harder choice. And it felt like there was an untold story there.

Okay, wow, much to say about Station 19 for once. But oh boy, Grey’s...........

I remember the “early” episodes we met Bailey’s father. And then we barely talked about her parents. They were somewhere in the background. Until in “(Don’t) Fear the Reaper” we met her mom, got that whole thing with her dead sister and got this picture of her early home life. It was really good. And last week her parents get mentioned again, because hey, elderly people. AND NOW THEY TELL US HER MOM HAD ALZHEIMER’S AND THEN SHE DIED............................................................... it was so fucking heartbreaking start to finish.

And I love all the quiet scenes we got out of this that are just so human. Sad and human. Bailey talking to Meredith, saying she misses her and relating to the whole seeing your mom withering away (so dying twice in a way). I like the use of the beach, because Meredith is semi-conscious, she hears it all, but she just can’t wake up long enough. And then Maggie and Bailey on that bench.

Two people sitting on a bench, talking. Nothing special happens. They don’t need to distract by having them in a busy hallway or somethng. It’s a whole ass conversation with no shorthand. Showing all the emotions. Having Maggie go back to that time her mother died and how she views it all in a different light now. Talking about dying with dignity. Chandra Wilson was so good in this scene. (Her best performance to me will probably always be when Charles died in front of those elevators, I can cry just thinking about that.) And she was allowed such a variety of feelings. And the pain of it all brings up joyful memories. Thanks so much for that hilarity that her scholarship came from the fucking Daughters of the Revolution. HA!

I don’t get people who still watch Grey’s and the relationship drama is the thing they care most about. This is what I’m here for first - the personal lives and relating to all these emotions (and also the mistakes and the way to do better next time).

Well, at least Tom got better quick, I guess. Nice way to give Amelia a reason to get to work for a day and thus have her confronting Teddy. Look, I am done with storylines involving cheating and all. Teddy as a character is often hard to like. But the way she is isolated and like the most contact she has is with DeLuca when he updates her on Meredith’s vitals... it’s harsh. And I liked that Amelia can talk to her without making her feel more terrible. And then I did like Teddy talking to Tom, who was his charming self in the end. Bonuspoints for mentioning that the kids are with Owen’s mom. And hey, I give this to Owen, I believe this must be hard for him, because being a dad is the biggest deal for him. Actually something to make him more likeable - if handled correctly - and this situation sucks for him as well.

Which brings me to Link. Who was left at the Grey home. With Zola, Bailey, Ellis and Scout. Wow. Who would have thought? Amelia’s pregnancy was a good thing, I guess, to give them the excuse of baby time and also Link sorta moving in to deal with all the kids. (Shipping all of them off to their own living Grandma isn’t an option. lol ) Link is a good dude. So please, okay, it was news to him, no need to hate on Tom, push through the irritation, Link! Ahahahahaha.

Jackson being so nervous about his mom being a bit too proud to always keep her mask on - wonderful. Sure, she’s a doctor, she’s also stubborn and he was so scared of losing her not that long ago. Family drama everywhere! I always like seeing Jackson and Webber together. And then they had another big talk, hammering home the fact that people are affected differently. That it’s worse for poor people and not by accident, but systemic problems, most of them are PoCs. So many black and brown patients dying left and right, and it’s clear where the problem starts... I do believe for some viewers this is actually news, because the “news media” they consume won’t talk about that.

So, well, and then there is the Jo of it all. OMG where do I even start? Now, first off, Levi and Jo living together is still hilarious and thanks so much for getting two scenes at the loft. Especially that first one with Levi pretty much pushing her out of bed. Now, I do want Levi to talk to his mom, I desperately need to know how things are. I’m sure the pandemic has shed some new light on what’s important. Second I’m also glad Levi is with Jo, so she is not alone, which makes it harder for her to fall into really bad habits and down that depression hole.

I kinda freaked out seeing Val again and was sure she’s gonna die (might still happen aaaaah). They have a tendency to kill the nice ladies. Still haven’t forgiven Grey’s for killing CeCe. So it was cool that the surgery was a success and wow, did I love when Jo sent Levi out to just listen to Val and connect. And then the baby delivery happened and....... what is going on? Jo even just casually thinking about switching specialties? TO OB?????????? WHAT?????? Dear writers, you dropped the ball on her entire medical journey so often, giving her a bonkers fellowship, having her residency take way too long and shoving her into general, because oops no mentor or anything. And now you give me this? Please, so this is how I would accept this as a set-up for an actual carthartic moment:

Let Jo stalk Carina, play out this thought “what if this thing that made me happy for a day is the thing I am supposed to do longer”. And then let her have joyous moments, but also something complicated, and finally a very distressed woman in labor. And Jo feels for the woman, is compassionate and all and when the baby is there, the woman struggles to connect. And this joyous second is withheld from Jo. And boom, full circle, this woman feels like shit for not loving that baby instantly, for the feeling of resentment and being out of her mind. And finally Jo can forvige Vicki. And that’s the end of that particular journey.

I mean we all pretend that we have forgotten that time Jo stole a baby, right? Because that was the S16 hiatus and there was a storyline set in motion that blew up with Justin leaving like that. And we have had Jo interacting with babies and new moms so often over the course of the show. While also staiting that Jo’s self-worth is tied to being in an OR, which is also her safe space. So this whole thing...

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Addison was the attending OB/GYN once upon a time. (”I’m being stalked by pregnant women!” “You are an obstetrician.”) She was also a fetal surgeon, which was what Arizona eventually became. So it’s not like when Meredith wore pink scrubs for a few weeks and got made fun of. There could be a long interesting road that eventually does include  surgeries. But it’s just so....... dumb. In a way. Especially with Jo having so many issues. And the writers - who give out pregnancies and babies like halloween candy - constantly skipping a potential Jolex-as-parents-storyline.... which kinda bites them in the ass now. ugh F R U S T R A T I O N......... I could write a five page essay just about Jo so far this season, I’m sorry. (Also if I ever have to see Jo in pink scrubs, a part of my brain will explode thinking back to Jason for sure.............)

Oh, and then there was Ben Warren. Just existing. Being a good man. Thanks. :3

[fisheoctrashdump]

Cecilia 1-20 (with Damon, Nova, and Zeon)

Holiday

Samhain is one of her favorites. She uses that day to honor the dead. Originally, she started celebrating it so she had a day to honor Emily and feel closer to her for a night. She brought Andreas into it when her uncle (his brother) died, and it's something they celebrate together. Jase also celebrates in honor of his aunt. It's not an all day thing, though, considering that day is also Halloween and Tuesday's birthday (I think).

Cooking

Cecilia is a decent cook, having learned a lot from her dad. She doesn't do it often, though. When she does cook, it's normally dinner rather than an earlier meal. Breakfast and lunch consists of junk food and iced coffee unless someone else makes those meals for her :P

Sleeping

She sleeps a lot, but her schedule isn't consistent. She stays up late most of the time, but doesn't have a set time for when she sleeps. Pretty much always, she's awake long past the time her partners fall asleep. She uses this time for different things, such as art and music, but sometimes she uses the time to reflect and cry.

She sleeps in a t shirt and underwear unless she's cold, then she actually puts on some pants and wears a hoodie to bed. She moves in her sleep a lot, but amazingly not enough to bother her partners (well she has with (Jase cause he's such a light sleeper, but it's only happened a few times).

Also, she's like always tired no matter how much or how little sleep she gets.

Driving

For a while, Cecilia had a lot of anxiety at the idea of getting her license. She used the fact that she dropped out of school as her excuse for a while (because she couldn't get her license until she turned 18 if she wasn't in school.) After that, she just avoided the subject. Andreas offered to teach her and promised to be patient, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

After they get back to earth, Cecilia decides to take driver's ed and learn from an instructor. Not sure how long this takes her, but like

Once she actually gets her license, all the shit she learns goes to the trash folder in her brain. She drives better than Jase does, for sure, but just like. Doesn't pay attention half the time. She's had a lot of near accidents because of this, but luckily she hasn't actually had an accident.

Bathing/showering

She showers with Tuesday like a lot ._. um, but other than that, I imagine the times that she's staying with Jase she uses all the hot water. It's usually not a problem cause Jase showers at night, but like once their kids are thrown in the mix it's like

Damon: MOM I need to shower before school >:(

Cecilia: maybe you should get up earlier, then :)

Until the kids actually do get up earlier and use all of the hot water as revenge.

Hugging

Cecilia is a very casual hugger. She hugs people with one arm or really quickly, usually. Jase (and probably also Tuesday) are way opposite and hug her so much and for so long lol when it comes to her kids, Cecilia saves her hugs for when they're needed.

Kissing

Cecilia is more into kissing than she is hugging. She initiates kissing with her partners a lot, regardless of where they are. She is a great kisser owo

Sex

I did something about this already ;_; but umm hmmm….. yeah I got nothing else to say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

General physical contact

Cecilia doesn't mind physical contact. She prefers to keep it limited to the people she's really close to (Tuesday, Jase, Andreas, Johnny, and Michael) but if someone she's acquainted with initiates she is usually okay with it.

In gen2 (with her kids) she is more affectionate with Nova and Zeon than with Damon (which will be discussed more later), and she's also very affectionate with Elena and Kat.

Physical appearance

Between gen1 and gen2, cecilia's hair is pretty much always shoulder length. In gen1 she has red and orange hair with a side shave, but in gen2 she has purple hair with just longer bangs.

I imagine Cecilia being one of those people who always looks way younger than they actually are. In gen2 she looks like early thirties even though she's 47. She tells people her oldest kid is 21 and they're like "wtf no way"

Wardrobe

I went super in depth about her wardrobe on her character sheet so lol

In gen2 I don't think it would change a whole lot. At work she probably doesn't wear hoodies as much though, probably both so she can show off her tattoos, and also so the sleeves don't get in the way of her work.

Jewelry

She has a tongue piercing. And umm idk what else. Other than maybe another piercing, Cecilia isn't big on jewelry. She doesn't even really like wearing rings, so she keeps her wedding rings on a necklace chain she tucks it under her shirt.

Nickname

Celie is everyone's nickname for her. Jase likes to call her "Celie-love" and she pretends she doesn't like it lol

Dancing

She doesn't dance.

Singing

She doesn't really sing, either.

Anger

She gets irritated at little things very easily, but she calms down from it pretty quickly. Cecilia doesn't often get really angry, but if she does, she will give the source the silent treatment. Disagreements between her and Tuesday (which are rare) are handled differently, though. And she never takes her anger out on their kids, no matter the circumstances.

Soft spot

Tuesday

Raccoons and possums they're her favorite animals

The moon :)

Johnny and Michael

She doesn't like to talk about it, but when the three of them were younger, Clay was a soft spot for her. She didn't try to defend him from their peers for nothing. Obviously that's not the case anymore by the start of gen1 events

Favorite possession

Until she passed it onto Jase (and he passed it onto Zeon) it was her flower agate stone. She acquired it not long after her suicide attempt, and she carried it everywhere with her. It even survived the whole kidnapping and running from the kartoffian government thing lol the stone was a symbol of a new beginning in a life she now felt hopeful to have a future for. She gave it to Jase for a very similar reason, and by the time the stone reaches Zeon, it's filled with so much love :')

Her favorite possession after this is the first sketchbook she received from Tuesday when they were younger. It was mostly blank by the time they got together, so she dedicated the rest of the book to filling it with pictures and notes about their relationship, and she will give it to Tuesday on a milestone anniversary.

Other than those two things, I imagine she still keeps a few things that used to belong to Emily, a gift she got from Michael at one point, and some things she receives from her kids over the years.

Favorite photograph

A picture of her family when Emily was still alive. Cecilia did her best to cut her mother out of the picture. It was one of the few pictures she has with both Andreas and Emily in it, so she decided she wouldn't let her mom's presence ruin it.

I've also been imagining a picture of Cecilia and Tuesday together during Tuesday's graduation :')

Relationship with ___

Before I go into these, I wanna point out that Cecilia isn't as close to Damon as she is to Nova and Zeon. This is largely due to the fact that Jase obviously favors Damon, and she felt she needed to make it up to the other two.

Damon

Damon and Cecilia have a lot of issues they don't talk about. Damon feels Cecilia isn't interested in having a relationship with him anymore, and it upsets him a lot. Cecilia feels Damon relies too heavily on Jase fixing his problems, and she wants to see him be more independent.

They don't dislike each other, though. Damon still tries to see Cecilia, and Cecilia often gives Damon encouragement to achieve his goals. It's not hard to see they both have contributed to the wall between them, and that Cecilia doesn't have this wall with any of her other kids (or with Tuesday's kids, either.) A source of conflict between Cecilia and Jase is how they parent Damon compared to the other two, but no one else knows about this. They can never seem to find a resolution to this issue, so it remains untouched :/

At times, Cecilia feels that Damon is closer to Tuesday. The problem is, all of Damon's parents/parental figures want to see him succeed, but they all have very different approaches to their relationship with him.

Nova

She has a really good relationship with Nova. During the whole time Nova was in Italy, Cecilia was the only person Nova kept in touch with pretty much daily. After the chova breakup, Cecilia was very concerned about both of them. With Nova being so far away, she dealt with a lot of fear about how Nova was handling things by herself. Until this point, she had had no issues with the idea of Nova pursuing the travel lifestyle she'd always wanted.

She never voiced these concerns to Nova, however. She did attempt to encourage Nova to repair things with Jase and Chuck, even though Nova seemed sure that she never would.

Zeon

She's closest with Zeon. She is always taking him on secret outings without the rest of the family and getting him little things. Sometimes they will spend an entire day together ;w; I've always imagined Zeon in general isn't very outspoken about what he's thinking and feeling, but with Cecilia he is more so. It's a different type of vibe than what the type of communication he has with Jase (who elects to read Zeon's mind) and Damon (who usually just assumes what Zeon wants without really asking).

With Cecilia, he can tell her as much or as little as he wants, and she will always look for his consent in any activity they do before they do it. Cecilia very much fills the fun yet understanding mom role for Zeon.

(of course this is headcanon time so I'm just throwing out things I've thought about and it's cool if he's not actually like this)

[cheswirls]

it’s your extension (let me extend) 1/6

[ small preface: this is one giant 30k oneshot. its meant to be read as a oneshot, especially with the formatting. ive divided it up for sa week bc i think it fits all the themes collectively, but on day 7, ill post it all together as a oneshot. probably definitely on another platform, ill link it here, though. each piece is around 5k words, and i cant promise each one will fit the day’s themes exactly. collectively, all the themes are in here somewhere. it’s not gonna align perfectly. 

with that all out of the way, i hope you enjoy! ive been working on this for a little over a month, now. if you recognize the au it is, you won’t notice many changes, but i like how it came out anyway. if you don’t recognize it, get ready for a ride.

also thanks to @saboace-week​ for hosting ! ]

he reminds ace of his mother.

light, blond hair hanging just past his nape; piercing eyes that hold an array of emotions, none of them harsh; fair, fair skin, and if he squints he can envision a smattering of freckles dusted onto his cheeks, not unlike his own. he cards a hand through the hair; his eyes narrow. 

he can see her.

the scar catches him off-guard. it’s not noticeable until he parts the hair a little, but then there it is, stark as day, red ragged lines breaking up the pale skin. it’s not until he takes off the old sweatshirt functioning as a pajama top that he realizes the extent of the damage.

the red ran all down his left side. cutting into his shoulder, up his neck; circling around his ribs, and he turns to see it nearly to his spine on his back; down to his thighs, to his knees, just barely on the border of red on his calves; his arm is littered with white scars and red burn marks, and he finds himself growing curious. whatever it was from, it was Big. 

it was intentional.

ace blinks and the movement echoes in the mirror, blue eyes gazing back at him. and he blanches, finally waking, finally realizing no, this was not normal, this was actually happening he brings both pale hands up to his face, tries to hide his eyes. his breath stutters.

a shrill alarm sounds and he jumps, spinning around to find a discarded phone on the bed going off. he moves over to it and it reads koala on the id and he panics and taps ‘ignore’ and lets his heart calm down.

the alarm goes off again and he jumps again and picks up the phone, almost ready to turn it off, when he finds its an actual alarm going off. ‘you’re late at this point’, it reads. ‘good luck’, it reads. 

ace turns it off and takes a seat on the bed, head falling into his hands. stringy blond locks fall around him. 

what the fuck. this isn’t what he wished for. he wanted-

and he sits up, sudden, limbs jerking in protest. he climbs the rest of the way onto the bed, towards the small window in the corner, and pulls a blind open, peering out.

a view of goa greets him. traffic, towers, teems of people absolutely everywhere.

ace slowly closes the blind, turns around, and sinks back onto the bed. he takes a deep breath, in and out. 

“THIS ISN’T WHAT I MEANT!” he shouts from the top of his lungs. when he said he wanted to live in the city, to be in the city-

when he wished he were reincarnated as-

“am i dead?” he breathes. only the quiet answers him back.

-

sabo rolls over in his sleep, prying his eyes open. he breathes out in a huff, squinting as he realizes he can see through the slats of the door. what, did he fall asleep at his desk again? and then fall out of the chair? that seemed a bit impossible, so then why . .

he tips his head, and his cheek brushes fabric, and he hums, realizing there was something under him under the floor. 

before he can process that, the door slams open. sabo’s eyes widen as he’s met with little feet, and then he looks up, meeting the gaze of a scrawny kid.

“ace, get up already!” the kid snaps. “we already ate all of the food! if you’re not ready in ten minutes, i’m leaving you.”

he slams the door back into place, and sabo lies there, eyes blown and mind wide awake.

he’s so taken in by the kid’s words that for a second he finds himself scrambling up, counting down the seconds, remembering the time limit.

then he turns around and realizes he was asleep on a futon and he was in a wooden room and he trips on his way to look out the window before grasping the sill, raising his head above it, and his jaw drops as he’s met with a sprawling lake view, and of a whole community painted into the sides of a mountain. no, not a mountain, his mind helpfully supplies. the sides of a crater.

he blinks and his gaze zooms until he’s gazing at his own reflection, except it’s not him in the window. it’s a boy with tanned skin and long, black hair that fell just to his shoulders. they were broad, and he frowns, looking down as he runs a hand down the washboard chest, bare. damn. his eyes catch on a red band looped around his wrist, tied in a sloppy knot. he tugs and it comes loose, unraveling easily, and he hums as he spies a few other colors near the end.

“ace! let’s go!” a voice calls from somewhere deeper in the house, and sabo scrambles to his feet again, dropping the band on the ground. he swivels his head until he spots a uniform hanging from a closet door. it’s nondescript, so he hopes there’s only one school in this small town, else he go to the wrong one.

. . on second thought, with the kid leading him, maybe not.

he patters over to it, pausing once he grabs the hangers to look at his reflection in an actual mirror. oh. okay. so this was actually happening. he was in the body of someone named-

he stops. blinks. no. this had to be a dream, right?

he throws the white shirt over his head, tugging the collar down, and hums to himself in affirment as he works on the pants. right. this was a dream. had to be. 

he’s slipping on the jacket when the kid barges in again, comes over, grabs him by the back of the jacket, and begins to shove him out of the room. “now! come on! we gotta go!”

“o-okay,” he voices, marveling at the change in pitch to what he was used to. deeper, slightly. he spies the red band again and lunges for it, tumbling out of the kid’s hold for a moment. “wait,” he breathes, grasping it, and then the kid’s on him again, pushing him towards the door.

“ace!” he whines. “come on!”

“luffy!” a voice calls from somewhere below. they exit the room and sabo spies a figure near the bottom of a staircase. “you’re going to be late!”

“coming!” luffy yells, still pushing him as sabo struggles to get his bearings, still grasping at the change in scenery. he clutches the red band tightly.

-

ace stumbles from the room, marveling at the change in height. the guy had a few on him, that was for sure. he moves down the hall, passing the simple furnishings until he’s in the frame of the kitchen entry, nose twitching at the smell of stale food.

a woman looks up from her phone at the small table for two, eyeing him for a moment before humming and looking back down. after another moment, she removes herself from the chair, shuffling around some dishes. “what was that shouting about earlier?” she asks, gesturing for ace to take her seat. he does, sliding down and picking up the extra pair of chopsticks.

“uh, nothin’,” ace mutters, mouth already full of leftover food.

“right.” the woman rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling a moment later. “well, i’m out. there should be another train leaving in half an hour. you have until then to get ready.”

“‘kay,” ace mumbles, nodding as she waves and exits the room. a moment later, a door shuts from the end of the hall. ace finishes the food soon after and sighs, setting the chopsticks down. 

school, then. 

he wanders back into the bedroom and approaches the uniform hanging from the back of a chair. the first issue was getting there, which . .

he glances at the phone. koala would know, right?

but, as soon as he thinks it, he lets the thought go. 

he opts to take a picture of the crest stitched to the blazer instead, doing a reverse image search to determine which goa school it belonged to. a result pops up pretty handily, and he hums, putting it into a map. oh. so, it was pretty far. he glances to the window again.

after a moment, he searches the map for the nearest train station. not close either.

  . . . his gaze moves back to the window.

ace sighs, slumping where he stood. there was no way he was catching that next train. he’d be lucky if he made it there by noon.

why was city life so hard?

after he’s gotten dressed and grabbed a bag, he stuffs whatever he can think of down into it. phone charger. notebook. wallet. pencil. sketchbook? he blinks, eyeing it for a moment, then shoves it in as well. no harm, right?

he moves back across the apartment and pauses at the mouth of the kitchen, gaze fixed on the small dishes still set out on the table. sighing, he slides the backpack off his shoulder and steps forward. right. there was no gramps to clean them up, so he’d have to do it himself then.

he pauses again after locking the front door, keys halfway shoved into his pocket. he didn’t even know this guy’s name. well, it probably wouldn’t be long until he did, but hopefully it wouldn’t cause any problems.

catching the train is a rush. ace sits in a seat very close to the door, sighing as everything begins to move. while he waits, he takes out the phone again and looks through it, trying to find anything to help him out. he ends up tapping on a social media app, and when the screen loads, hums.

“sabo, huh?” he mutters under his breath. okay. he could work with that.

-

sabo doesn’t have to worry about luffy guiding him, because they run into some people he apparently should know.

“ace!”

the word is a single, concise syllable, spoken loud and with momentum, and, more importantly, from right behind him. sabo jumps, just about crawls out of his skin, and spins around to see a girl just about his height looking at him funny, lips pursed, and a hand poised to chop his head. he steps back more, glancing over at luffy, who huffs out a sigh.

“i’ll meet you at home,” he says, motioning to a fork in the path ahead. one slopes down, curving a little around the cliffside, and the other continues upward, towards the crest. “whatever’s going on, i hope you’re over it by then.” with another odd glance, luffy tightens his hold on his backpack straps and takes off down the path. sabo is left alone, and turns to watch as a boy approaches the girl, and therefore him, as well, pushing a bike at his side.

“nothing’s going on?” he mutters, even though that’s an obvious lie. whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it wrong.

“are you sure?” the girl says, crossing her arms. “because it looks like you couldn’t even be bothered to brush your hair this morning.”

sabo blinks, reaching up to tug on one of the black strands. he thought it’d been naturally unruly. guess not.

“whatever. let’s go already.” she turns and nods to the other boy, then grabs sabo by the arm and pulls him into a walk alongside them. her eyes turn down and she makes a little noise in the back of her throat. “you brought your ribbon and you’re not even using it?”

sabo glances down as well, spying his impulse grab hanging from his hand. he lifts it. “ribbon?” it didn’t look like it.

the girl shrugs, waving a hand. “might as well be. look, if you didn’t have time to do your hair, you can just say so. but we’re not even there yet. i have a mirror if you need it.”

she fumbles for her bag, searching through it, and then frowns. “nevermind. hey, kidd, you got one?”

“always,” he boasts, passing over a small pocket mirror with ease. sabo takes it, frowning. he looks down and attempts to pat the hair down, and then glances again to the band in his other hand. so, if it functioned like a ribbon . .

well. that made sense.

he hands the mirror back and holds the band in his teeth, using his hands to situate the long black hair. then he grabs the red with one hand and strings it around, until it held the hair in a loose knot. he glances over at the other two after finishing, waiting for approval. the girl shrugs after a moment. 

“good enough, i guess.”

sabo sighs out in relief, and then they’re in front of the school and kidd’s parking his bike and something chimes in the far distance. they grab for each of his arms and pull him through the front doors, moving quickly to a classroom. it’s not until they’re inside that he realizes another dilemma. people were still moving in, and there were open seats.

he reaches back to grab the girl’s arm, a small look of panic fixed on his face despite his best efforts. “where do i sit . . ?”

her eyes widen, and she stares at him. and stares. stares.

then, very calmly, she blinks and points to a desk near a window, almost in the corner of the room. sabo just nods, head down, and moves toward it.

-

ace moves down the hall slowly, still paging through a twitter feed on the phone. there were background shots of a classroom, and it had a high window, which meant the second floor. if only there was a glimpse of a number, then he’d really be set-

“sabo!” a shout echoes down the hall, making ace throw his head up. a redhead marches toward him, looking pissed, and he blanches, turning the phone off and trying to straighten out.

“uh, whatever i did, i can explain,” he says, because ace has always been about resolving conflict. then he mentally slaps himself, because that was the worst possible thing he could’ve said. he didn’t know the first thing about sabo, much less what he did to piss off the girl so much.

“you better!” she huffs, stabbing a finger into his chest. ace takes it with a wince. “ignoring my call like that! how dare you.”

so it was his fault, then. “i thought it was my alarm,” he says quickly. “it went off right after your call. sorry.” okay, so maybe not exactly true, but it would work. he eyes the girl in a new light. so this was koala.

she crosses her arms over her chest. “which one? had to be the ‘you’re late anyway, so hurry up’ one, right? how can you be here at noon?” she sighs. “it’s lunch, for god’s sake!”

“sorry,” ace says again.

her lips purse. “fine. i won’t press. c’mon, it’s stuffy in here, let’s eat outside.”

eat. his expression changes as he realizes. koala glances at him and rolls her eyes.

“you forgot lunch, didn’t you?”

he did, and he’s kinda hungry. he claps his hands together. “please share?”

“you’re lucky i like you,” koala mutters, jerking a door open.

koala insists he come to a cafe with her after school, and ace’s mouth waters at the thought. the closest they had out in fuusha was an old vending machine on top of the crest. inside, it’s crowded with people, but koala squeezes them into a two-seater and props up a menu, then begins rambling about the day. ace tunes her out, eyes widening as he glances at all the pictures. he wanted to try them all.

“that’s a lot of money,” koala comments, and he realizes he’d spoken aloud. ace looks up, then digs in his bag, looking into his wallet. he lets out a sigh.

“yeah, guess you’re right.” he hums, flipping the page and spotting a piece of cheesecake dripping with strawberry sauce. his mouth waters again. “then, i’ll just take this one.”

halfway through their meal, ace’s phone pings. he picks it up carelessly, smiling, too busy enjoying his cake. the text makes him reconsider.

koala pauses in her movements upon noticing his expression. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m late for work,” ace tells her.  apparently.

“oh, you had a shift?” she waves him off. “go, then. i don’t mind.”

“yea, thanks.” he stands, pocketing his phone, and stuffs the last of the cake into his mouth in a big bite. koala doesn’t comment.

he walks off a few paces, spins around on his heel, and comes back to tap koala on the shoulder. “uh, where do i work again?”

her brows raise to her hairline.

-

sabo wakes slowly.

he’s balanced on the edge of the bed, curled up like he doesn’t know there’s supposed to be a drop. it’s jarring, and as soon as his phone begins to vibrate, his body jerks and he’s on the floor, crashed in a heap with the comforter curled around his legs.

with a moderate groan, he reaches up and silences his phone.

the door opens a moment later, as he’s rubbing his head. red hair is his only giveaway before shanks is fully in the room, peering down at him. “whoa there, kid. took a tumble, huh?”

“i’m good,” sabo mumbles, sitting up. he blinks, screwing his eyes to cast the sleep away. “had the strangest dream.”

“let’s talk about it over breakfast, kay?” he jerks a thumb over his head. “makino has it ready.”

makino is already gone, too, apparently, because it’s just him and shanks at the table. it only sits two anyway, so it’s not often all three of them eat together. still.

sabo squints, picking up his chopsticks and trying to recall. “i was some kid living out in a mountain village for a day. had an annoying little brother and everything.”

shanks hums, swallowing his bite of food. “sounds boring.”

sabo snorts. “great, thanks for your input.” he pauses again. “it just . . felt so real.”

later, sabo will go back to his room and pick apart his backpack, confusion on his face for every random item he pulls out. he pauses at one point, hand wrapped loosely around the spine of his sketchbook. definitely didn’t remember taking that out of his room. what did he even draw, he thinks, flipping through to the last filled page-

he stops. his hand trembles. the forgotten page flips over, and the front half of the book hangs limp in the air. he stares at the page.

‘who are you?’ is written there, in big, blocky letters, scratched over and over by a worn pen.

-

“are you gonna play with your hair again?” luffy asks, entirely unimpressed, as he pulls open the door to ace’s room, looking to his elder brother warily. ace blinks the remaining sleep from his eyes, sits up fully.

“what?”

luffy huffs. “nevermind.” he begins to slide the door shut. “at least you’re up today.”

ace frowns at the comment, then immediately turns to look out the window. the sun was barely peeking out over the edge of the crest, as usual when he woke. he sighs and stumbles to his feet, electing to ignore luffy’s comment. 

breakfast with garp is a quiet affair. he eyes ace warily, but doesn’t say anything out of the ordinary, more of the usual. ace has to pull luffy away from the table, again, per usual. he sighs as he closes the front door, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. luffy grumbles at his side, wiping rice from the corner of his mouth.

he takes luffy halfway to school, then watches as he runs down the path with zoro and nami, sprinting in a race to see who can reach the grounds first. ace continues up the slope by himself, and doesn’t stop until he’s sliding his classroom door open, tugging his scarf a little looser in the heated environment. 

he’s sitting his bag down on his desk when the door slams open, and he turns calmly while a few others jump, entirely expecting this kind of entrance. lami pinpoints him immediately and stalks up to him, kidd not far behind. ace stands at attention, turning to face her-

and makes a noise of protest as she grabs his cheeks, pulling his face closer to hers for easier inspection. 

it’s a few tense moments of silence before he frowns, features distorted. “can i help you?” he says, words muffled by the pull of his lips. lami’s frown mirrors his own, and she releases him.

“are you back to normal?” she says, hands on her hips. ace only turns to look at kidd behind her, silently asking for help. the edhead steps up with a muffled snort.

“you were . . weird, yesterday,” he admits. “your hair was a mess, you were all spaced out, you couldn’t remember where you sat-”

“you got all of crocus’ questions right!” lami snaps. “his insanely hard, out-of-thin-air pop questions! you got them all right. answered like it wasn’t even a challenge. like you knew the ins and outs of the material already.” she crosses her arms. “you better not upstage us all again today.”

ace blanches. “what? you’re lying. that’s impossible.” and his hair . . ? he reaches up, fingering the braided cord that held the black locks in a high ponytail. 

lami shakes her head. “no, i’m serious. you were weird yesterday.” she echoes kidd’s words and the redhead nods, confirming. 

“well, whatever,” he grumbles, turning away, a bit put-out. “i’m fine now. okay? let’s just forget about it.”

the door opens, and in ambles crocus, old hips still in desperate need of replacement. he takes a stand behind the podium and pauses as he finds ace. “hm. portgas.”

ace lifts his chin, eyes narrowing. after a few tense moments, their teacher turns away, looking back down to his papers. everyone finds their seats after that. 

-

‘who are you?’ echoes over and over in sabo’s mind, as much as he can allow it. school is vicious today, the teachers going hard and not leaving anyone a moment’s rest. it’s not until everything is done for the day that sabo can break away, and that’s when koala approaches him, a wary look marring her gaze.

“what’s up with being late yesterday?” her eyes narrow as she comes to a full stop right in front of him. “y’know, if you were gonna show up halfway through the day, why’d you even come at all?”

“late?” sabo blinks. as he could recall, he was here a half hour early, like today, like always. 

“yeah.” she huffs. “you were late to work, too. listen, are you feeling better, at least?”

sabo’s hairs begin to stand. “yesterday,” he says, very slowly, “i didn’t have a shift.” 

“what?” koala’s eyes begin to ignite. “then you just ditched me? what the hell, sabo!”

“what are you on?” sabo snaps back, trying to make sense of it all. “we were together all afternoon. we split crepes! remember?”

koala’s mouth opens, but she remains silent. her brows scrunch, and the fire dies out. “that was monday,” she recalls. 

sabo shrugs, still off-put. “yeah?”

“sabo, it’s wednesday.”

he blinks. blinks again. “no-” he begins, but before he can finish, koala’s whipped her phone out and is showing him the date.

he stands very still. a shiver runs through his body.

“why . . can’t i remember?” 

-

lami and kidd wrangle him away for the afternoon, walking while the bite of the cold wasn’t too bad. unluckily for him, the path they take leads into a head-on collision with one of dragons’ rallies. ace can hear his speech before he sees the crowd, and then he’s hissing to himself in panic, ducking down behind kidd’s lanky form. the redhead scoffs, but doesn’t move.

“i guess it is election time,” lami notes, gaze wandering over. 

“wonder why he bothers,” kidd says. “he’s bound to get reelected anyway.”

ace frowns, eyes still facing the ground. he doesn’t want to hear dragon, or see him, but most importantly, he doesn’t want dragon to see him.

a pause in the speech reaches his ears. lami moves closer to the pair. “hey, heads up-” she begins to mutter.

“ace!” dragon calls, and he closes his eyes, jerking to a stop. slowly, his eyes move until he meets his father’s over the heads of the crowd. he doesn’t look very pleased. “straighten out already!” he calls.

ace forces out an exhale and moves out from behind kidd, standing taller. he turns his gaze back to the road and starts moving, quicker this time. he feels dragon’s eyes on him all the while, but what’s more, the eyes of the crowd as they turn to face him, as they turn to witness the town mayor mocking his eldest yet again-

“don’t let him bother you,” lami says, once they’re out of earshot. she turns to kidd, giving him a pointed look. “hey, let’s go to your mom’s shop?”

“diner,” kidd corrects. he frowns, knowing more than anything that it wasn’t a question. but, well, it was still too early for dad to be home. “sure,’ he sighs, giving in. immediately, ace perks up at the prospect of food.

“sacha!” lami calls, just as they burst through the doors. an older woman comes out from the back room, wiping her hands with a towel. her gaze brightens as it lands on the three.

“oh! come in, come in.” she puts her hands on her hips as they all pile into a table. “so, how was school?”

“horrible!” ace groans. “crocus kept asking me all these questions i couldn’t answer. and only me!”

from beside him, kidd snickers. lami pokes ace with her elbow. “it’s because you were a smartass yesterday.”

ace huffs, slumping to the tabletop. “sacha, they’re being mean to me!” he whines. “please, the only thing that can help is food! please feed me!”

sacha rolls her eyes at the act. “sure. whatever you say.” she winks to the other two, already turning towards the back. “i’ll bring some stuff right out.”

“thanks, mom!” kidd calls. lami echoes his words, and then they’re both turning to ace, who’s still slumped against the table.

“hey,” lami says suddenly. “fuck dragon. don’t think about it.”

ace hums, head still buried in his arms.

if only.

-

sabo has the dream again.

he sets upright, and everything is at a lower angle, and pieces of stiff, black hair fall in front of his eyes. he hums, thinks nothing of it. okay. so it was a do-over dream. maybe he could do better this time.

luffy opens his door with a short bang some time later, and pauses for a moment to eye him with trepidation. sabo cocks his head to face him, but otherwise continues bouncing his newly-acquired black locks. he couldn’t help it -he’d never had hair this long. 

“breakfast!” luffy snaps. he closes the door with the same amount of force he’d opened it with, and it hits the frame harshly. sabo’s hand drops from his hair, finally.

breakfast is, unfortunately, not a quiet affair. sabo has to fight over rice, fish, soup -everything, really- until it’s all properly dished out. a little radio in the corner of the room blares out about town hall news, and sabo cocks his head to it as he nibbles on some meat, swiping his chopsticks out to keep Luffy from his rice.

“also, in regards to the upcoming mayoral election-”

garp has already stood up by this point, and pulls the plug on the old machine before the announcer could continue. he comes back to the table in the newly quiet atmosphere, and luffy sets down elbows up on the glass top, sighing.

“you really should make up with him already,” he grumbles. “both of you,” he adds, turning that glare to sabo. sabo only blinks, not knowing the context of the words, and chooses to resume eating in quiet rather than respond.

“it’s an adult problem, kid,” garp grunts, setting down his empty bowl. “go on, now. get ready for school.”

luffy lets out a long-lastings sigh as he throws himself to his feet. “right,” he says, letting the word drag out, and drags himself from the room. sabo sets down his rice bowl after his last bite, nodding to garp.

“thanks for the food,” he mumbles, standing as well. garp grunts, but grabs for sabo before he can pass by completely. sabo pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“don’t forget, the ceremony is in a few days.”

that’s all he says, then he releases sabo. he doesn’t know the context, again, so he just nods and hurries up the stairs back to ace’s room.

the red band isn’t around his wrist this time, and it takes a bit of digging around, but he does find it in a spare drawer. he takes a brush through the thick locks, then binds it into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. if a knot wasn’t right last time, maybe this was. he uses the band in place of an elastic, pulling it tight, and nods once he’s satisfied.

luffy is waiting for him downstairs. he bounces on his feet, using both hands and a loud voice to say bye to their grandpa. sabo just nods, and garp nods back, letting them go. 

lami and kidd run into him before the pathway splits, and luffy looks on in indifference until lami has him on her shoulders, and then he’s squealing with delight or annoyance -sabo can’t tell. it only takes a moment for her to set him on the handlebars of kidd’s bike, and the redhead breaks out into a jog, balancing luffy, who does enjoy this one -evident by him throwing his arms over his head and shouting in joy. lami loops sabo’s arm through her own and they follow at their own pace. when the pathway splits, they help luffy down and he waves them off, continuing towards his own school.

sabo finds his seat by the window, but once class starts, he can’t focus. it’s all stuff he’s learned already, so he spends time instead jotting stuff down in a blank page of the notebook. ace’s family was two people. his brother, luffy, and his grandfather. there’s a third person him and ace share in conflict with. he has two close friends, lami and kidd. kidd is the son of a electrical contractor -the guy who controlled all power out here in the town. which, technically speaking, seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere. the high school sat over the ridge, and it was all sabo could see for miles around -that was, nothing but rolling hills. 

“portgas,” a voice says gruffly, enough to grate sabo’s ears, and he looks up to find the entire class staring at him. his brows furrow, until he meet the teacher’s gaze, locked on him. sabo swallows, setting down his pen. 

“yes?”

crocus lets out an overdue sigh. “nice of you to finally respond. define ‘twilight’ for me.”

sabo blinks, then stands in one clean motion, nodding. “it’s . . a time between night and day,” he finally settles on, unsure of what the man was looking for. he’d gotten all the questions right last time, but they only served to annoy him. and also bring on more questions. sabo wasn’t exactly sure how to respond here to get it right this time.

crocus grins, and sabo feels a little nervousness run about. “not quite what i was looking for.” he gestures with his hand, and sabo sits down, confusion growing.

“‘twilight’ is neither day nor night. it’s a time when the two become blurred. where all the funny stuff happens. afterlight, in other words. right before dusk.”

“what about half-light?” kidd pipes up, hand slightly raised. crocus allows the outburst, humming.

“that’s more local dialect, but, yes.”

sabo lets down his guard again, and goes back to doodling, scribbling notes in the columns. 

he finds the diary after school.

it’s a small pocketbook, easily overlooked. call sabo curious, though, for upturning the room. ace is organized, and his small script is neat. reading through the entries doesn’t help, though. sabo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. guess he had to do this on his own. well, for a do-over dream, he thinks he did rather well. if it happened again, maybe he’d get to finish learning what he only discovered this time around.

he’s settling down on the futon when a stray thought comes to mind. the words ‘who are you?’ scribbled in his sketchbook hit him out of nowhere, and sabo stands on the thin matress, gaze falling to the desk in the corner.

after a moment, he walks over, feet carrying him and hand reaching out for a small marker. he hesitates for a moment, then presses the ink to his skin, writing his name carefully.

-

sabo jerks awake, head fuzzy. shanks opens his door at the same time, and the blond has a conniption, about doing a front-somersault off the mattress. he lands on the ground in a heap, groaning.

“relax, kid,” shanks says. “it’s just me.”

sabo’s leg twitches. he lies there for a moment, only vaguely thinking about going back to sleep.

“ . . you okay?”

his phone starts ringing and sabo forces himself up to silence it. “fine,” he mutters, waving shanks off. with a shrug, the redhead leaves, closing the door behind him.

sabo’s gaze is fixed to his arm, now that he’s stopped waving it. his brow furrows, and he grasps his right with his left hand, bringing it closer. he squints.

there’s writing scribbled onto the skin. ‘sabo?’ it reads. ‘who are you? what are you?’

it was a dream.

right?

makino frowns at him as he enters the kitchen. “don’t cause trouble today,” she says quietly. sabo blinks, eyes widening and heart racing.

“what? what did i do?” he stammers. she only looks at him again, sighs quietly, and exits the room. down the hall, the front door closes.

“what did i do?” sabo asks koala, who frowns upon spotting him in the hall before class was due to start. 

“you got home too late, is my guess,” she muses. “makino called me, y’know. wondering where you were.”

sabo blanches. “did i have a shift?”

“ i think so?” she squints. “you headed off in a hurry. saw something, i guess. are you okay?”

he waves her off. “fine, fine.”

she looks at him for another moment before shoving the door open. “right.”

sabo goes straight home before his shift at the restaurant. on impulse, he flips to the back spread of his sketchbook, where the last note was. his eyes widen.

“i can’t believe i got to stop a real-life goa robbery attempt last night,” he reads. “sorry, i may have gotten scuffed up?” sabo takes a step back, and the sketchbook falls from his hands. it’s loud when it hits the floor. “what the fuck?” he breathes.

he pads over to the mirror, but there’s no marks on his face. without any airs, he strips of his shirt, twisting this way and that. ah. there, on his left side, was a small patch of bruising. luckily for him, it was on his burns, where all the skin was nerve-dead. he couldn’t feel a thing.

suddenly feeling lightheaded, sabo falls to his knees. his right hand comes up to trace the bruising.

“oh, sabo!”

he turns on his heel, empty plates balanced in outstretched hands. robin walks over the last few steps. “yes?”

“thanks for the other night.” she nods. “and for making sure i got home safe. that was really nice of you.”

the pieces connect, rapid-fire, and he works hard to only nod back. “no problem,” he murmurs, then ducks quickly through the door to the back. so, robin was the one almost mugged. she must live pretty far, for him to take her and be back late enough to cause makino to worry.  . . . that would also explain the weird looks he received from his other co-workers when he arrived. 

sabo sighs, taking a moment to pull his arms on top of his head, open his airway. then he’s poked in the back with a ladle, and his eyes open back up. moment over. he turns to see thatch eyeing him, a lazy grin on his face.

“what’s got you worked up?” he asks. before sabo can even think about not replying to his cheshire grin, zeff is yelling for him from across the kitchen. he moves quickly, picking up dessert trays and swinging out of the room once more.

he gets a text from shanks that has him calling as soon as he’s clocked out, pressing his phone between his shoulder and chin. it takes one ring for the redhead to pick up. “yes?”

“sabo! come straight home today, okay?”

“yeah, got it.” he sighs. “sorry . . about yesterday.”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” shanks pauses, and sabo can picture him physically waving the words off. “i know you didn’t mean harm. still, makino’s a little worried, so do her this favor.”

“got it. see you soon.”

sabo pockets his phone and pulls out his metro card in place of it, stepping fully into the train station. his head is spinning. 

it was a dream, right?

-

ace finds the diary, and it makes him sad before it gives him answers.

so i don’t forget again.

he’s found three, similar, pressed into the back of a crammed bookshelf. all of them have the same title. he finds his fingertips pressing into the burn scar around his eye. was it to do with this? was it all part of the same thing?

the last entries of the diary confirm his worries. sabo wasn’t aware of what was going on. he was slowly realizing it, but slowly was bad for ace, who knew from the first event what was happening.

i’m not dead. we’re switching bodies.

he was switching bodies with sabo triste, a boy his age living out in goa with his two guardians, makino and shanks. ace goes to sleep, and wakes up as sabo; he’d spent more time as the blond this week than he had himself.

‘stop writing in my sketchbook!!!’ is written right under his script on the same page, and ace traces the words carefully. he takes a pen and writes, right underneath, ‘surely one page is okay.’

he hesitates, then he writes, out to the side - ‘it’s not a dream.’

it can’t be a dream anymore.

[planetsam]

Michael Guerin, Space Pirate

Huge shout out to @signoraviolettavalery who made a great post about a Martian au that I cranked up the angst on by deciding Alex would be a great space voyeur to Michael’s space pirate. 

Being stuck on the graveyard shift feels oddly appropriate.

He thinks Michael would have loved the irony of it.

Alex takes a long drink from his coffee. He watched the launch after it happened, in one of the staff break rooms. He didn’t think much of it, only the 3AM shift he had the next morning was on his mind. Now he wishes things were different. Not that he fully expected his high school fling to remember him, or to realize that he was working for NASA as well. Alex is in SatCom, he monitors their satellites. Eyes in the sky, some people call him, but he likes to think of himself as an Interplanetary Voyeur. Most of his education and training goes to waste. He didn’t mind it when he felt like he was a part of something bigger than himself, making sure that everyone got home safely. 

Now when he looks at the red planet, all he thinks is how Michael finally got his wish. 

Michael always wanted to be part of something bigger. He also wanted to get the hell off the planet. Alex remembers their endless conversations about it, laying under the real stars when they could and the fake, tacked on stars when they couldn’t. Michael found his way off the planet. And was the most popular astronaut to boot. He was the only one surprised at that. Alex saw his face everywhere. Each time it kicked up a gut punch of emotions. Mostly now it was a sadness that was far too familiar when it came to him, to them—now though there was a finality to it. The idea that Michael would be bones on Mars and the only way Alex would ever see him was in old footage was borderline incomprehensible. For the moment Alex let himself not think about it and focus instead on his job. The storm had cleared and he focused on what they could see. It was highly unlikely they would ever see Michael’s body, the dust storm would have buried him. But Alex hopes he does. Michael deserves that closure.

Taking another hit of caffeine, he turns to scrolling through the pictures and cataloguing things that have shifted in the dust. He frowns and zooms in towards the HAB. Alex refines the pictures, teasing out a clearer image. He can picture the conversation in his head, he knows the exact arguments. He brings up the images from the past few days. The way things have shifted does not line up with what is in front of him. The solar panels should be completely covered, but they are clean. Spotless, or as spotless as anything gets on Mars. He looks again and triple checks just to make sure. The chance is impossibly slim. But his hand is already reaching for his phone. He thumbs in the number for security.

“I need the emergency contact number for Dr. Kapoor,” He says, “this is Alex Manes in SatCom.”

“Are you sure it’s an emergency?” The bored voice asks. Alex isn’t sure of anything at the moment.

“Yes,” He says instead.

The head of the mission is wildly above his pay grade and Alex has been raised to respect the chain of command. Why his violations of it seem intrinsically linked to Michael Guerin is something he doesn’t have the capacity to figure out at the moment. Not after the phone rings twice and he hears the man on the other end clear his throat. God, he’s woken his boss up at 3:35 am. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, sir, this is Alex Manes in SatCom,” he says, “I think Michael Guerin is alive,” there is a distinct bang and a groan, a whispered apology and the sound of feet moving, “the solar panels are clean.”

“And you’re sure it’s not the wind?”

“Yes, sir,” he says, glancing up at the screen as the next round of images come through. He almost drops the phone, “sir, the Rover has moved.”

“What?!”

“The rover moved,” he says, scrambling to look at the photos again, “the solar panels are clean and the rover has moved.”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Fuck. Mars.

Fuck it so hard.

Michael is over this planet. He wants off. Why he can’t find a planet he wants to stay on is beyond him and now definitely is not the time for those deep philosophical questions. He’s got more pressing issues like making sure the hole in his gut closes without infection, finding a way to supplement his food and, oh yeah, contact earth. 

“Look, I’m not upset about being left behind,” he tells the log, “that’s protocol. What pisses me off is the fact that I’m doing everyone’s homework,” he shakes his head, “here’s my new universal constant: a group project will always end with one person doing all the work. We’ll call it Guerin’s Law.”

He has an idea for contacting earth. The problem is that it rides on earth knowing he’s contacting them. He’s got no idea if anyone has even figured out he’s alive. He doubts it. But there’s a chance. He knew it was bullshit but he had an affection for the dramatic Rover that gave it’s dying words and sang itself a birthday song every year. Michael has had plenty of those birthdays. And of course when he’s already doing everyone’s work, he now has to do the extra credit and pull off the save. If he doesn’t get an A, he’s fucking suing. He looks in the camera, aware this could be his last message.

“Captain Evans,” He says, “none of this is your fault, I forgive you for everything if that’s what you need to hear,” his solemn face turns deadly, “but if this doesn’t work and I die listening to your alarmingly inclusive Donna Summer, I will turn your life into the karaoke bar from hell.”

Seems like a good note to go out on.

Summer eat your heart out.

Alex looks over the chart again.

And again.

The spotlight is nerve wracking. They have established Michael is alive, but they don’t have a way of communicating. He knows Michael is trying to figure something out and everyone is scrambling to find it. He also knows he has an advantage. It’s been years, so many thing have changed, but he’s got a good idea of how Michael’s mind works. He follows the paths the Rover is making and connects the dots before anyone else. 

“Opportunity?”

“It lines up,” he says, “he’s going for the Rover.” 

“Let me make some calls.”

Thankfully the Opportunity team is largely still around. By the time Michael gets  it up and working, they are ready. The images come in and patch together. Alex is awake for twenty hours straight but he’s there when the images come in. Michael standing in front of two signs and holding a third. Alex’s heart leaps into his throat and it’s got nothing to do with the truly staggering amount of coffee he has consumed. A cheer goes up and he sits down before his knees can do anything like buckle. Michael’s face is just visible. Alex can make out a single curl that’s half escaped from his cap and it’s always the little things. Michael is alive. They point the camera towards the ‘yes’ sign and the next image is blurry but only because he’s jumping up and down. He’s got no back up supplies and he’s jumping up and down.

Alex thinks he might be the one who dies in all of this.

OPP: Huston we had a problem.

DSN: Good to hear from you. 

OPP: You have no idea.

So the communications issue is more or less resolved which is awesome. And he’s saved Opportunity. Which makes him even more awesome. All around it’s awesome. Except Isobel still thinks he’s dead which is less than ideal. So he’s in a little trouble on that one. But he would trade everything for her to yell at him. Not that he’s got a lot to trade. 

OPP: hey, DSN whose babysitting me tonight?

DSN: SatCom

OPP: no shit

DSN: language

OPP: fuck

OPP: whose babysitting? got a name?

DSN: alex

OPP: i’m michael

DSN: i know

OPP: does this mean i’m super famous? think i can get free fries at the mess?

DSN: no it’s alex. from high school.

Michael is literally on a different planet but he jumps anyway and twists around like he’s being spied on. Alex was a punk kid who, okay, he may have been slightly in love with. But his homophobic dick of a dad ended that. He may have crossed Michael’s mind a few times, but never enough to do something like look him up and see that they worked for the same place. For some reason he feels more comforted by this news than he has by almost anything else. Except maybe that people knew he was alive at all. 

OPP: no fucking way. i thought you said you were joining the Air Force.

DSN: i did. then I went to grad school and joined NASA. 

OPP: wait SatCom figured out i was alive. was that you?

DSN: yes

DSN: i saw the solar panels were clear

OPP: and you thought that was me?

DSN: i figured even you would clean if your life depended on it.

Michael snorts, it’s not like he’s had much to clean back when he knew Alex. He was living in his truck. But when he thinks about his desk at NASA—okay it is a mess. He can admit that. It blows his mind that Alex has been here the whole time. That Alex figured out he was alive. He tries to reconcile the idea of who he remembers with whoever found him. But all he can picture is the kid who unknowingly saved his life more times than he can count. More times plus one, if he thinks about it. Probably plus more to come, if things keep going this way. 

OPP: do you still have that septum ring?

DSN: go to sleep

OPP: come on, do you? 

DSN: no

OPP: too bad, I thought it was kind of hot.

DSN: bed, michael

OPP: yes dad

DSN: please do not call me ‘dad’, they are reviewing these

OPP: ok daddy

Captain Isobel Evans reads the message several times to be sure. Then she gathers everyone together. She’s thought she was a good leader this whole time, focusing on getting the crew that was still alive back home even though the only thing she wanted to do was cry over the loss of her crew member. She runs the scenario over and over again. But it remains the same. There was no other choice. Now she doesn’t know what to think when she has to tell them. It’s only Max she looks at when she speaks. 

“Michael’s alive.”

Pandemonium erupts from the others but Max stares at her. His own horror and guilt reflect hers. Michael is alive but he’s on another planet. Michael’s alive but who knows for how long. She made the call to leave him, but as the ship’s doctor he made the call that he was probably dead. They are both culpable and innocent, but Isobel blames herself more than anyone. She should have given the order to wait, no matter the risks. They all scramble over to the communications screen. Kyle gets there first because it is, after all, his chair. He refers to it as his ship too. Then again he is the one who flies it. 

HRMS: sorry we left you on mars, we just don’t like you that much. 

OPP: assholes

OPP: hows the cptn?

HRMS: we’re all good. how are you?

OPP: bored af

OPP: look. boobies ( . Y . )

HRMS: michael!

That night Max sits hunched over in his bunk, arms wrapped around himself. He never should have said that Michael was dead. But he and Isobel have been running over everything. But now it turns out Michael is alive and he can’t fathom what it must be like for him to be back there alone. Did he know that they would learn he was alive? Did he think he would die there a second time and no-one would know? The thoughts are horrible and each occurs to him in rapid succession until he thinks they might drive him crazy.

“Hey,” Liz slips into his pod, “how are you holding up?”

“I told Iz there was no way,” he says, “he’s been there the whole time and i had no idea—“ he stares at her, aware he is asking for answers she doesn’t have, “what if he dies there? How is he going to spend four years there until we launch another mission?” 

“He’s going to be fine,” she says, cradling his face in her hands. He ignores the rules, the fraternization line they always dance around and leans into her touch, “he’ll be okay and soon you will laugh about this,” she smiles, “after you buy him all the vodka on earth.”

“I’ll buy him whatever he wants, as long as we get him back.”

OPP: alex

OPP: ALEX

DSN: i’m sorry, Alex has been transferred to SatCon.

OPP: GO GET HIM

Huddled in the Rover, Michael forces his breathing to be steady. He cannot afford for something else to go wrong. Behind him, the HAB stands as a shell, blown when he failed to pressurize it correctly. It broke. He broke it. His crops are gone and he feels like crying. Which is not going to help. He can’t panic. He can’t flip out. He wants Max and Isobel and his pod on the ship that’s getting farther away with each second. Mostly he wants the person on earth whose his lifeline in this. He forces himself to look away from the screen. Maybe Alex is asleep somewhere. Maybe he’s just as fed up with his bullshit as he was in college. Michael grips the chair. No, no he is not giving into his abandonment issues because he’s literally the only person on a planet and his only friend won’t answer the phone. Mars is his planet and he refuses to have them go down like this. 

DSN: michael what happened?

“Thank you Martian God,” he breathes

OPP: the hab depressurized 

OPP: i’m ok. crops are gone. all of its gone.

DSN: you’re ok. thats the main thing.

OPP: says the guy with seamless at his fingertips

DSN: i told you you were going to have to learn to cook one day

Michael laughs despite everything. And okay maybe it ends in a sob, but just one. Alex throwing shade like they’re texting and this isn’t a life or death situation makes him feel so much better. He knows Alex is probably hyperaware of being watched but he’s still willing to do it. Michael knows it shouldn’t be a big deal but he’s alone on a planet. The only person who can judge him is in a mirror and he sure as hell doesn’t bring one of those on the rover. 

DSN: michael are you there?

OPP: i’m there i’m just outraged

OPP: i am an extraordinary boiler

DSN: do i want curly or regular fries with this sandwich?

OPP: asshole

OPP: thanks

DSN: hang in there

Maria Deluca, astrodynamicist extraordinaire figures it out. 

She checks her math, swears loudly and breaks her almost new piece of chalk. Guerin is a planet away and he still manages to ruin her love life for at least—ugh—another year. Asshole. Why couldn’t he have just stayed on the ground with Alex like he wanted to? She writes out her calculations and tells the mission heads. Then she does the right thing and hides the info in the latest data dump for the ship, knowing her wife and her bff will figure it out.

That evening she finds Alex in SatCon. 

He looks awful and she feels the same annoyance at Guerin. They’ve both slept with him and she might have had feelings for the mop haired cowboy at one point, but Guerin is good at leaving and being so focused on one thing that he fails to see anything else. Like an unhappy boyfriend or girlfriend. She sits next to Alex and hands him a cup of coffee. 

“Any word from the space cowboy?”

“His food supplies are ok but the rations are getting to him,” he says, “part of its mental but the rest—“ he shakes his head, “he shouldn’t have to deal with his issues up there.”

Michael was food insecure for most of his childhood. He’s good at functioning on limited calories but he’s also scared of not getting his next meal. The fact that Alex remembers that makes Maria want to hug him. She settles for sighing and shaking her head at the situation. All of NASA has been reading their back and forth. For science. The fact that it reads increasingly like a romance novel is definitely not important. And people definitely aren’t taking sides. She doesn’t have a Team Alex t shirt like some people. Just a baseball cap. 

“He’ll be okay,” she says.

Alex nods wordlessly but his eyes are glued to the screen where their communications occur. She nudges him. 

“Say hi,” She says. 

“I can’t. He needs to focus.”

“You can still say hi,” she says. 

“It’s a waste of resources.”

Rolling her eyes at men and their excuses she nudges his chair out of the way and gets at the keyboard.

DSN: hi

“Maria!”

Ten seconds later the reply come.

OPP: hey i was just about to message you

OPP: you miss me that much?

“Maria—“ Alex tries for the keyboard.

DSN: always

Alex grabs it finally.

DSN: adokfjosiaf

OPP: you ok?

DSN: sorry. yes. 

OPP: good. i miss you too.

Alex sucks in a breath and Maria grins. It’s almost almost worth another year with her wife. Not quite but almost. Alex gulps and stares at the message. His fingers hover over the keyboard as he hesitates, swamped by an insecurity Maria has seen before. She looks between him and the keyboard, sending every mental signal she has to him. 

DSN: keep going and we can see each other again

OPP: dunno, you could always come to Mars 

OPP: visit me

DSN: I like earth 

OPP: you’re making this song way too relevant 

DSN: what are you listening to?

OPP: I would do anything for love

“That is my song,” Maria says, “my song with my wife.”

“She’ll be back soon,” Alex offers.

Maria hates them both.

“This is a mutiny,” Isobel says, “we all need to participate and we all need to agree. Kyle and I know the consequences. We’re military. But the rest of you need to understand this could mean the end of your careers. They might not let any of you fly again,” she says, “it also means another year without your families. There isn’t any shame in wanting to go home. We do it together or not at all.”

“No one gets left behind if we can get them,” Kyle says, “I might be flying this thing but I am still a doctor. Do no harm. I vote we go back.”

“Michael is my brother,” Max says. 

“My family is here,” Liz tells them, gripping Max’s hand, “let’s do it.”

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Jenna, their long suffering media relations director says.

“The Hermes is in the middle of an unsanctioned maneuver to slingshot themselves back to Mars using earth’s gravity as an assist.”

“So a mutiny,” she says, “you want me to put out a press release that says a bunch of astronauts turned space pirates have performed a mutiny?”

“Actually it’s Guerin who would asked to be referred to as a space pirate, since he is technically commandeering a vehicular over international territory.”

She sighs. It’s too early for a migraine. 

“I hate everyone in this room.”

DSN: michael

DSN:  michael update me

DSN: GUERIN

DSN: captain blonde beard, do you copy?

OPP: CBB: i copy. everything’s good

DSN: you are taking this way too far

OPP: CBB: that’s kind of judgmental for someone whose not a space pirate

OPP: CBB: if you were here id make you walk the plank. by that i mean solar panel

DSN: find water and maybe it’ll work

OPP: CBB: i have to starve, become a pirate, now i gotta find water too?

OPP: CBB: anything else?

DSN: come home 

OPP: CBB: only because I want to, not because you’re making me

He modified the ship like they tell him but until he’s in there,  he doesn’t feel so great about sitting there. Not until his radio crackles to life with the first human voice he’s heard in over a year.

“Guerin, do you copy?”

“Iz!” His voice breaks around the syllable of her name.

“Michael, oh thank god,” she says. Isobel has had her game face on this whole mission, hearing the relief makes the tears break free, “we’re launching you, strap in.”

“Tell Valenti to be careful,” he says.

“I got you, Guerin,” Kyle says, “you ready to come home?”

God that sounds so nice. 

“I don’t know, it’s kind of nice having this all to myself,” he chokes out.

“We got you, hang tight.”

He blacks out. 

When he comes to, the ship is too far away. He can hear the swearing. It’s bad. He takes a deep breath and refuses to give in to the panic. The side door opens and he sees Isobel coming towards him. Max is on the side of the ship. His family is there. 

“I’m going Iron Man,” he says, punching a hole in his hand.

“Michael!”

He aims himself as best he can and propels towards Isobel. She reaches and just when he thinks this isn’t going to work, they collide. They lurch violently to the side but she locks her arms and legs around him and snaps a carabiner to the front of his suit. The lead connecting them snaps taut and for a moment he’s sure it failed. He’s dead in space. But he blinks several time and nothing has changed. The relief shatters him in a way he didn’t know was possible and Isobel lets out the best laugh he’s ever heard in his life.

“I got him!” She calls and everyone erupts into cheers, “I got you,” she says.

“You have terrible taste in music,” he tells her. 

They reel them in. The only possible reason he would let go of her is to throw his arms around his brother. Max clutches him and Isobel together as the hatch seals and the chamber pressurizes. Michael collapses against his siblings who take his weight immediately, undoing his helmet. Their voice goes into his ears, no radio or texts. But the first human hands that touch him belong to a friend.

“Mikey!” He’s not even mad about the nickname as she hugs him and then works on getting the suit off him.

“Liz! Get me—“

“On it.”

She gets him out and then Max and Isobel are there. Kyle and Liz fall with them and it’s a big pile of tears and hugs and laughter and snot. He doesn’t care. The pile make their way to the comms to message that they have him. Unwilling to let go of each other even though Michael is very aware that he needs a shower.  

CMMND: good work! Come home.

 Alex has his last 3AM shift the night before they get back. Maria keeps him company. She suggests that he come with her to the families area but he turns her down. He’s not family. His boss insists he come with him to the command center. He watches the ship land. When he sees Michael pop out, throw down his helmet like he made a touchdown and throw his hands up, he feels like the breath he’s been holding for the six months it’s taken to get back to earth can finally be released. Michael is okay. Everyone is okay.  He staggers from the room.

“I’m gonna just—five minutes,” he says. He’s woken up every night certain the news will come in that Michael is dead. He has to go to a second funeral. Michael is fine. He’s dizzyingly exhausted with the thought. He drops onto the couch. It will be hours before he sees him. “Five minutes,” he tells himself and closes his eyes.

He wakes up to the smell of hazelnut coffee. 

He opens his eyes, already knowing what he’s going to see. All the ways he thought about this going, Michael crouching there in a NASA onesie with his hair wet and two cups of coffee isn’t it. Alex carefully sits up, afraid that this is a dream. But Michael stays every time he blinks. When he’s sitting, Michael holds out the coffee cup. 

“A small token of my—“ 

Alex throws himself into his arms. The coffee goes flying as Michael bands his arms around him, equally tight. Two years of text messages sent through a Rover and suddenly all of their other senses are flooding with each other. Alex never wants to let go of him and he can feel Michael trembling against him. Their faces are buried in each other necks and he’s never been so glad they are the same height. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Michael breathes into his neck and Alex clutches him closer.

“This was all you.”

“It wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t seen me.”

They pull back enough just enough to look at each other, taking in the differences. The reports all say how driven Michael has been with his recovery and Alex has been pushing harder at his own pt. In that moment he doesn’t think that it matters. He doesn’t care what either of them look like or what state they are in. He just wants Michael here. Michael presses his lips together, his eyes dragging to his lips. After everything, there’s something he immediately recognizes. 

“You’re not seeing anyone,  are you?” He says.

“No, this really infuriating guy named Captain Blonde Beard keeps texting me at 3am.”

Michael is still laughing when he kisses him. 

This, Alex thinks, is more than worth the wait. 

[adventures-in-asexuality]

‘Home’ Alone

You may have heard that Boris Johnson has recently become the leader of the Conservative Party in the UK, and, as such, the Prime Minister. This wasn’t an election open to the general public; party leaders are elected by the members of that party, and it’s no real surprise that the Conservative Party members like conservative candidates.

This isn’t a post about that, per se; there are plenty of other people detailing all of his failings and horrifying attitudes and behaviours. It’s just an illustration of how the political situation in this country is devolving faster and faster. I started talking about this in 2014, just a couple of years after I first got on tumblr at all, and I’ve been talking about it ever since, whenever I have the mental fortitude to do so - which, right now, isn’t often. 

But, hey, what’s another list of my deepest fears? 

I wrote a post a year or two ago with some of the things that we’re facing here, in the UK. I’ll link the entire post, but here is the most important paragraph:

‘But. I have been saying this. I said it when reports came out of the huge number of people dying within a few weeks of their disability claims being denied or revoked. I said it when a coroner went so far as to name the DWP as the cause of death on a death certificate for a disabled person. I said it when we started seeing stats of the huge proportion of cases of denied benefits that were winning at appeal or tribunal (and the huge barriers to even getting to appeal or tribunal in the first place). I said it when we heard about the suicide baiting in disability assessments. I said it when we heard that, even if you could get them, disability benefits were leaving people cold and hungry.’

These aren’t stopping.

Back in 2015, the UN Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities announced that they were going to investigate how the UK was treating disabled people. The report came out in 2016, and, as summarised here, found ‘‘grave and systematic’ violations of the rights of disabled people’. There’s no enforcement method for this, though, and the government were free to disagree and to carry on exactly as they were. Which they did. 

In 2016, the Brexit referendum happened. One of the topics that I remember very clearly from that time was the Conservative promises that they could write a new Human Rights Bill, since we would no longer be bound by the EU’s rulings on human rights. This was, of course, presented as a good thing, though I’m not even sure entirely how. All I remember was thinking about all the rights that we already knew were being violated, about how it was so obvious that a UN Committee was investigating it, and thinking: Why would a government ever write their brand new human rights bill to enshrine rights that they are already violating?

The answer, of course, is that they won’t. 

We haven’t heard anything more about the supposed brand new human rights bill since then - hell, we haven’t even left the EU yet - but this is always at the back of my mind, casting a shadow over my day-to-day life.

Because what this means for me is that my country does not want me. I can never be at home here because I am not wanted here; because my country would rather people like me die quietly, preferably in a way that doesn’t impact on their statistics, and leave the abled people alone. 

What does this have to do with asexuality, then? Well, I am ace and arospec and a lesbian, and there are two very obvious consequences of this.

Firstly, I don’t have a family. Anyone who’s been following me for a while will know this already, but here’s the bottom line: I am estranged from my family for many reasons, including that I am queer. This is a story everyone knows, I’m sure - it’s easier to list queer people of my acquaintance who do have a family - but it does remove one of the common support networks that people have. 

Secondly, I don’t expect to be in any kind of significant relationship any time soon. Don’t feel sorry for me or tell me to meet more people; it’s just a natural consequence of liking very few people and also being a bundle of trauma and disability. I’m used to it. The real problem is that this removes the other common support network, and most people in life assume that you have either one or the other. 

Coyote wrote a piece recently, On “single”, that’s relevant here. The whole post is well worth reading, but in it, ey comments on one of the conversations we’ve repeatedly had with each other: the issues with emergency contacts. You’re supposed to have someone who would drop everything to come help you. And, realistically, people expect this person to be either your partner or your immediate family. After all, those are the people that you can count on, right?

(Wrong. But we all know that.)

Coyote commented on how untenable this is in ir post, and I’m just going to quote the relevant part here. 

‘Ever since I left my family, I’ve been intensely aware of how, if I were to go for too long between jobs, or if I were to get severely sick, there’s practically no one close at hand to intervene or take care of me. And that weighs on me. That makes my life feel tenuous and unstable in a way that’s more far-reaching for me than simply not having a romantic partner. It would be different if I had solid career prospects and enough savings to coast on indefinitely, but I don’t.’

I want to underline that this is how the state of being singled affects us all. Not just the traumatised ones, not just the disabled ones, not just the ones who face other difficulties and marginalisations. All of us. This is always only survivable by the lucky ones. 

So where does this leave me? I have a bunch of progressive disabilities. I’m barely managing to hold down a job at the moment; I’ve given up having hobbies, seeing friends more than a couple of times a year, leaving the house at all except for essential errands, and I’m still constantly exhausted and in severe pain. All I do is work and rest for the next day’s work, and I’m still ill too often for my employer. I drag myself to work in so much pain that I’m propping myself upright, typing one-handed and slowly collapsing over my desk, and people still assume that I’m malingering, that I should just stop complaining and do my job better. 

And these are progressive disabilities. They are only ever going to get worse.

You can see, now, why the gutting of social safety nets is a very personal issue for me. 

Let’s recap. The government is aggressively uninterested in supporting disabled people, so when (and it will be when) I can’t manage to hold down a job no matter how much I injure myself in the process, I won’t be able to rely on them for such extravagant things as a roof over my head and semi-regular meals. People who support such cuts often say that people on disability benefits are just malingering, that real disabled people would have their family or partner care for them, but even setting aside what an awful situation that puts carers in even if it works as planned (and it is an awful situation), I don’t have either of those support networks. I’m on my own now, and, barring some extremely unlikely events, I’ll stay that way even when I can no longer support myself. 

This means that I don’t have a home. 

That’s a little overdramatic: I have somewhere to live at the moment. I’m even lucky enough, now, that I can live by myself; I have lived with strangers before, and it didn’t work well. I don’t want to repeat the habit. I can shape my space around me to some extent, and I do have a roof over my head, and both of these are important; I don’t want to trivialise that. 

What I don’t have, though, is any sense of security or welcome. I live here, and I have possessions here, and, bit by bit, I’ve even acquired nonessential items (even if every time I acquire something that wouldn’t fit in a suitcase packed in the dead of night, I panic a little bit). I’m always aware, though, that this place is only mine for as long as I manage to keep up full-time employment; as soon as I’m forced out of that sphere, I’ll need to be elsewhere, and I won’t have elsewhere to be. 

My welcome in this country, in this city, in this house is measured only by my participation in the capitalist workforce, and as soon as I involuntarily exit it, I will be unwelcome everywhere. 

Home is supposed to be the place that you’re always welcome, right?

Yeah, I don’t see that happening any time soon. 

This is the point where people start talking about wider communities, like the ace community. It’s an understandable impulse; if the normal support networks fail people, we want to think that there are backups. That smaller communities are still there to help us. 

I’ve talked before about not feeling welcome in the ace community for a variety of reasons, but that’s not entirely relevant; sure, I’m not at home here, but even if I was, there’s a bigger barrier here: we don’t have resources for this. (I feel like I should be talking more explicitly about the aro community here - because, at least to some extent, this would seem to be a more common aro-specific issue than an ace-specific issue - but I find it hard to think that it would be appropriate, since I'm not meaningfully involved in the aro community, largely because it's pretty clear I am unwelcome.) Most ace community resources are focused on dealing with people’s journey to recognise themselves as ace and how they can navigate their relationships afterwards - and even though that can be a large part of people’s lives, it’s not the be-all and end-all, and isn’t even on the radar for some of us.

This isn’t to say that this entire issue is just due to a failing of the ace community; this is a large and systemic problem, and it feels pretty self-defeating to throw any amount of effort at it at all. We also don’t talk about it, much, though, and that, I think, is the greatest disservice. It can feel like so much of ace community resources are devoted to reassuring aces that they are okay as they are and, from that basis, helping aces find partners, or at most reassuring unpartnered aces that just because they’re single now won’t mean that they’re single forever, that we ignore almost completely the logistical challenges of going through life without the societally expected support networks. 

We can’t solve this entire problem by ourselves - that would require completely rewriting society. But maybe we can include it in our directory of problems, understanding that this is an ace issue and finding or creating resources for it accordingly.

[veryimportantsparkles]

Alright I’ve kept meaning to do sort of an infodump on my projects because I’ve been really slipping lately.  I dunno how obvious it is?  Probably kind of obvious.  I’ve also been really bad about checking messages and responding to people.  So I figure I can write up a status report and then point to it when I’ve been inadequate about communication.

My IRL job has been wiping me out.  I’ve been getting short, labor-intensive shifts in the evenings, and then random surprise morning shifts shortly after, which has been really hard to manage my time around.  My sleep schedule has been extremely broken and it’s affected my productivity a LOT.  Leadership in my department is about to shuffle around and I’ve been interviewed for the manager position.  If I get it I’ll be working an entirely different schedule, which could potentially be good for my sleepy brain but will definitely leave me with less art time overall.  I’ve also been enduring some back/shoulder issues over the past few months.  Nothing urgent, but it’s limiting how much I can draw each day.  I think replacing my desk chair is going to be a big factor but it’s not the only factor.  I just need to be a smart human and take care of my joints and not hunch over so much.  Working on it.

Here’s the current status of my various art projects:

Laserwing

I ended chapter 5 in June and said I would finish up some other side projects before I start concept work for chapter 6.  One of the projects I needed to finish was the Popkas Yugioh season 4 special, which I finished.  The other big one was my Neonmob card set, which is most of what I’ve been posting lately.  Once that’s out of the way (see below) I need to do concept art.  Chapter 6 will put all the Laserwing characters in new outfits which will need reference sheets.  I’ll need background sketches and layout diagrams so I don’t have furniture shuffle randomly around between scenes.  I also need to sketch out the chapter 6 draft page by page.  I’ve made Laserwing in GIMP up until this point and am going to try switching to Krita for chapter 6.  I might need to do a test page to make sure my process transfers over well into a slightly different system.  Once I’m ready to make real pages, those take a while.  Chapter 5 pages were going up maybe every 2-3 weeks.  I don’t know how many pages are going to be in chapter 6, nor can I say for sure how many chapters are in Laserwing.  An old outline had maybe 40 chapters.  It’s a story with a defined end point, I can say that for certain, but it’s intended to be long.

Popkas

I’ve had issues with Popkas for a while.  I keep picking new themes for dailies, thinking they’re going to be quick and easy, but then end up making them hard for myself.  It’s been to my benefit, I’ve forced myself into learning new art programs and techniques through Popkas.  But it’s hard to keep up the daily schedule.  Currently I’m doing the Paper Mario: TTYD bestiary, which has 124 enemies.  At a rate of one per day, by the time I’ve finished them, Pokemon Sword and Shield should be released and we’ll have all the info about the new Pokemon.  Those will be drawn in ‘Popka classic’ style (scribbly shitposts).  After those are finished, unless my IRL work situation dramatically changes, I’m considering putting Popkas on pause.  In order to do any other monster dexes I’d have to do a lot more research (for example, people have suggested Yokai Watch but I’ve never played one) in order to have anything meaningful to post.  Same deal with Popka Specials (the anime writeup things), those take prep time and anime-watching time that I might not have.  I don’t ever want to end Popkas, but a hiatus might be necessary.

Angelfire Hime

Did anyone even know about Angelfire Hime?  Well I want to post more but that involves finding, scanning, retouching, and transcribing my old high school scribble comics.  It takes as long as any other project but is also low priority because it’s all old content.  Nobody is waiting for the latest update because nobody but me actually knows what that content is, and possibly nobody but me can even read it.  It’s more a personal journey of self-reflection than anything.  I want to return to it but not at the expense of better work.

MeganFantastic dot com

I had a domain name linked to a tumblr that was supposed to be my news blog/front page and I barely use it.  Also, I let the domain registration drop.  Also, I had let a typo in my banner graphic go unnoticed for YEARS and still haven’t fixed it.  Even now, I’m writing this big post to my personal blog instead of the one for news.  The idea was to eventually buy some real hosting and make MeganFantastic a whole site of its own, but that’s a lot of work.  I’ve got a generally good idea of HOW I’d do it (probably wordpress) but I’m not a coder, it would take a lot of trial and error.  This would be a huge undertaking and eventually Laserwing, Popkas, and all my other junk would be contained on one big non-tumblr website.  But it’s uhhhhh not happening yet.

Hundera Youtube

My contribution to our LP channel is to show up, talk about video games, and then draw title cards.  All recording, editing, and channel management is maintained by Josh, and I can’t speak on his behalf about our update schedule.  I will say there are a lot of half-finished games we want to return to.  I will also say that when the new Pokemon comes out Josh is dead set on recording it.  I don’t know if he intends that to be a stream or a regular LP.  In the meantime he streams Minecraft with his friends every Sunday and we fit in our own streams and recordings when we can.

Commissions/Patron Art/etc

I’ve not been very good about this lately and I’m truly sorry!  I have a few things I’m working on, a few things I’ve promised to start working on, and a few things I’ve told people I can do once my workload lightens up, which hasn’t been happening yet.  I really don’t have an answer.  I almost never delete anything so if I’ve been sent a message in any form I should still have it, and I’ll be sure not to forget anyone.  And if I do forget someone feel free to throw rocks at me!

Rane Story 2

What the heck is Rane Story 2?  Well I guess I have to explain Neonmob.  Imagine if ChickenSmoothie and DeviantART had a baby.  It’s a virtual trading card site, which is fun and cute, and I’m drawing out a card series to release on there.  I’ve been using it as practice for painting backgrounds and to fill out some backstory for some 4th-string Laserwing support characters.  Before Mistaire came to Earth, she went to space high school, and that’s where Rane Story takes place.  You can preview the series, and when it’s finished I’ll post about it.  I’ll also repost all the art to DA.  If you scroll through the last several pages of this blog you’ll see some of the art.  I’ve put a lot of my brain energy into getting this done in spite of my work/sleep issues because I don’t want to resume Laserwing until I’ve finished it.  This is what’s stolen my life, guys.  Right now I have 6 more cards to make, and then I have to write and finalize all the text.  I should be done SOON.

Pokemon Nonsense

When my back and shoulder get too hurty and I have to take a break from drawing, one of the easy things to do is whip out a DS and play Pokemon.  I’ve done a lot of twitter shitposting about it lately.  I’ve also drawn up a bunch of gijinkas for my Pokemon.  I’m talking about it now because I also intend to draw up gijinkas for Pokemon to trade away.  I’ve already done a few.  However, I don’t know for sure how I’m going to distribute them.  The idea is people can trade actual Pokemon with me (in either X or Let’s Go Eevee) and the Pokemon they get will come with a character design for you to keep.  I was thinking I might do a discord server for organizing trades and such, but I haven’t yet.  Mostly because it’s low priority and I have SO many other things going on.  But actually playing Pokemon can happen when I’m too fatigued for real work, so the horde keeps growing.  Hopefully my posts and scribbles about it are entertaining.

I feel like there’s other projects on hold that I wanted to discuss, but right now I’m too braintired to remember, and some of my ‘projects’ never actually got talked about online so nobody’s waiting for an update.  My greatest problem seems to be that I try to juggle too many pointless side projects and then drop them all over the place.  Sometimes I’ll shitpost about an idea and even I won’t be sure if I was serious or not.  How do I end this post?  I don’t know.

tl;dr Megan is SLEEPY and dropped her spaghetti everywhere but somehow still has time to play POKEMON and WON’T STOP TALKING ABOUT IT

[snowycrocus]

"Concealed Intent” Frozen Fanfiction

In which Elsa makes her first unfortunate command, and Anna obeys.

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

“Elsa – no, no wait!”

“Give me my glove!

“Elsa, please please – I can’t live like this anymore!”

“Then leave.”

And so Anna does.

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

At first, her freedom is astounding. The Southern Isles are bright, and bustling, and warm – everything that Arendelle was not.

Outside, in the city, there are people to meet – mothers going about their days, shopping for carrots and apples and bread; children running and playing; and men off to work at offices or the docks.

The air, even in summer when it is hot and sticky, is pleasant – not the biting cold of Arendelle, so harsh and bleak it buries itself in your bones.

Along with thirteen other brothers, their wives and their multiple children, no one has the time (or the interest) to keep a watch over Anna and what she does. There is no longer someone watching her every move to reprimand her for not using her napkin, for getting a speck of mud on her skirts, or for her horrendous German pronunciation.

This taste of freedom, after 18 years, is breathtaking. Anna almost doesn’t know how she lived for so long without it.

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

The one thing that does follow Anna to the Southern Isles, however, is the feeling of being ignored.

That’s the downside of living amongst so many people – when there’s always so much going on and so many people to talk to, no one cares about the neat crab you saw on the beach or what your opinion is regarding feathers on bonnets – there’s always something or someone more interesting out there.

And for someone who had once said “I would never shut you out,” Hans doesn’t seem to be all that interested, anymore. He wears his wedding band, dances with Anna at balls and seeks her out hungrily every night (especially after a few glasses of wine or gulps of whiskey), yet there’s no more romance, no more loving glances or tender caresses or shared secrets.

As for the rest of Hans’ family – well, there was a reason why Hans had wanted to get away from them all. Anna doesn’t understand the pecking order, the cliques, the reliance upon gossip to maintain relationships.

She doesn’t fit in, hard as she tries. The other women, the wives, pick up on it immediately – Anna’s naivety practically emanates from her, and the wives can sense it like a shark drawn to blood from miles away.

“Even your own sister didn’t want you,” they remind her.

Anna wonders how they knew about that, at first, before remembering that here, behind the castle walls, the royal family may be rich in gold and jewels but first and foremost they are rich in gossip and secrets.

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

Meanwhile in Arendelle, the last bit of joy and sunshine has fled the country along with its only source: Princess Anna.

The citizens had been hopeful that Queen Elsa’s coronation would mark the end of the closed-gates policy. They dreamed of trade from distant lands and the opportunity to work once again behind the walls of the castle.

Yet they couldn’t have been more wrong.

Queen Elsa seems dead-set on isolating their small country even further. She calls for increased focus on domestic products, nearly eliminating all trade with and reliance upon foreign nations entirely. She rejects all requests for audiences, instead delegating them to the dwindling number of staff she continues to employ. Meetings with her council are now to be held no more than quarterly; all other correspondence must be done in writing and delivered directly to her study.

With nearly no trade with neighboring nations permitted anymore, countless industries fail and the economy drops precipitously. Jobs are lost, families go hungry and crime runs rampant.

The word out on the street is that the Queen is well aware of the state of her kingdom. Her response? “It is the only way.”

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

One year passes, and then two, before Anna realizes that despite the sun and the surplus of people, freedom doesn’t equal happiness if those around you bully you. She’s sick of the gossip and tricks and taunts.

And she misses Elsa. Even if Elsa doesn’t miss her.

Maybe, Anna hopes, Hans could love her once again in Arendelle. Where it all began, where their true love planted a seed and grew into a lush, blooming garden all within the span of a night. Where he’d no longer be distracted by his brothers, the competition, the never-ending fight for attention.

Anna hasn’t had communication with her sister in the time that she’s been in the Southern Isles. She had written letters, at first, but gave up after receiving no response. She’s not sure how Elsa will feel about her moving back in to the castle, but figures she’ll be alright with it, as long as she and Hans don’t bother her – Elsa’s problem with their marriage, after all, hadn’t presented itself until Anna had broached the topic of bringing Hans’ many brothers to Arendelle with them.

It would only be an issue if Elsa forbade her and Hans from moving back in, and Anna didn’t think she would do that.

And Anna was right – Queen Elsa didn’t do that.

In fact, she barely reacted at all.

Queen Elsa’s eyes, shockingly blue, widened at Anna’s reappearance; her lips quivered as if she longed to speak and her hands trembled as though they yearned to reach out. Yet the Queen nodded stiffly at the sight of her sister and swallowed thickly and promptly turned on her heel to retreat from the entrance hall, blind to the beady green eyes bound to the crown on her head as she withdrew.

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Queen Elsa may speak only when it is absolutely necessary; she may hide behind the walls of her bedroom and study; and she may avoid all human interaction as much as she possibly can. Yet she is an astute listener and a keen observer and has learned by necessity how to get a perceptive read on someone simply from a lilt in their voice or the raise of an eyebrow.

Unbeknownst to those around her, the Queen hears the arguments between her sister and her husband from within her bedroom walls. She notes the faint tear tracks painting Anna’s cheeks as she passes by and even the healing bruises on her wrists when her sister pushes up her sleeves.  

At those times, the ice that she had managed to push down successfully for so many years burns beneath her skin with a vengeance, desperate to be released. It prickles so hard that the Queen grimaces, pressing her fingernails into her palms so hard the skin breaks – a distraction from the power trying to leak from her hands.

He is not good for your Anna, the ice whispers in her mind. We are better for her; we would treat her like the princess that she is. But Elsa’s logic and duty remain strong, and despite the truth of the words of her magic, she knows it is best that she remains far from her sister.

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

But as the months continue to drag on, the walls around Elsa close in even faster. Her small, dark world becomes suffocating, the depth of her loneliness and desperation unbearable. She longs to feel the cut of an icicle over her slim wrists simply to feel the heat of the warm blood she somehow carries inside. She wonders if the prick of an icicle through the throat would make it feel easier to breathe.

She is so desperate, so hungry for companionship and just the smallest touch of tenderness and affection that she actually attends Anna’s birthday dinner.

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Anna cannot believe that her sister has come to see her on her birthday. The thing is, she can’t decide if this makes her happy, that her sister is finally taking an interest in her life; or if she is mad because now she actually has to interact with her sister who for most of her life has ignored her.

She spends the first bit of the dinner obsessing over how to act – should she engage her sister in conversation? Does she even want to do that? Her sister doesn’t deserve her attention after all these years, for sure – yet Anna longs to have the Queen, her sister, finally take an interest in her.

Her mind is whirring and her heart confused; her mouth is so dry that her tongue sticks to her palate and when a glass of water is placed in front of her she very nearly lunges to pour its cool, soothing contents down her throat.

Only Queen Elsa notices the fleeting glance that passes between the serving boy and Hans. Her watchful gaze notes the minute widening of the prince’s eyes, the fear that flits behind his expression; she is confused at first when Hans hurriedly exchanges his glass of water for Anna’s.

Anna lifts the glass up to her lips. Elsa suddenly feels the fierce spark of the ice igniting under her skin, racing through her veins as it never has before.

She jumps up from her seat, the ice screaming. She barely registers that she has ripped off her glove, just like Anna did to her years ago. “NO!”

She is no longer in control.

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

Hans’ green eyes meet hers for a split second at her cry. That look, that primal look of fear, of being hunted, is locked in her memory forever.

Her arm snaps out and the ice is unleashed. Anna’s glass turns to ice in an instant and shatters into a million tiny pieces.

Suddenly, there is ice and glass everywhere littering the table and floor. But the bright, red blood pooling around Hans’ chair is more distracting. It drips languidly from his chest, where a long, tapered icicle protrudes from his heart.

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

All eyes- those of the servers, the maids, her sister – turn towards Elsa. There’s a uniform gasp and scattered screams as everyone steps back, cringing into themselves or running towards the nearest exit. The Queen sees the shock, the fear, the disgust in their eyes when they look at her.

But none of their expressions are worse than Anna’s. Anna, who looks upon her now-pale and lifeless husband, slumped in his chair with his eyes still open and blood continuing to leak from his chest.

Anna has hate in her eyes.

“What is THIS?!” She cries, wildly gesturing to the ice scattered throughout the room. “What did you DO?!” She runs to her husband’s side, cradling his face in her palms and closing his eyelids. Her eyes narrow with revulsion as she gazes at the Ice Queen who was once her sister.

“Who ARE you?”

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

Anna sees, as the crown is placed upon her head, the world for what it truly is. For there is no true freedom; there is no true love. There are only secrets and deception, hidden behind closed doors and gloved fingertips.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Credit to @shardsofarendelle for the inspiration - a couple of weeks (or has it been months?) ago, you mentioned how in life, and in Frozen, sometimes mistakes that seem awful (such as Anna removing Elsa’s glove) - actually yield positive results in the end, despite the hardship that that mistake may bring. And you made me think- what if!- what if Anna had made a different mistake? And listened? And left? Your words are everything to me, readers! Let me know your thoughts!

[punkscowardschampions]

Janis & Grace

Janis: [Later AM after] Janis: so what's the scoop Janis: did it work Grace: OMG so you're talking to me now? Janis: what can I say Janis: giving you time and space to get busy 👌 Grace: EW Grace: giving it to yourself babes 👌 Grace: but now you've worn him out, yeah? Janis: Hush Janis: this is your debrief, what you wasting time talking 'bout me for Janis: usually LOVE to chat on yourself, like 😏 Grace: duh it's waaaaaaaaaaaay more interesting Grace: I know how my night went Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: that good, yeah? Janis: he was actually unbearable Grace: that predictable Grace: boys always are Grace: I TOLD YOU! ugh Janis: well he obvs had his reasons for being there Janis: bet he was so butthurt Grace: honestly! he's sent me so many texts Grace: boy stop I'm taking the longest shower of my life & you aren't invited Janis: gross Janis: just her type Grace: OMG she's 😠😠😠 Grace: I can't even be annoyed at you for leaving & leaving me muted cos you two really went off 👏 Janis: Good Janis: she deserves it Janis: also glad it weren't a wasted evening 'cos not getting that time/braincells back, thanks ryan 😒 Grace: IKR Grace: living only for the content I can get out of him 🙄🙄 Janis: never off, you Grace: I don't have a cute white boy distracting me rn so sorry Janis: 💔💔 Janis: erm, tell mum and dad i'm going away for a bit will you Janis: cba Grace: LITERALLY Grace: it's tragic Grace: UM EXCUSE YOU WHAT? Grace: where are you going?? Janis: my heart bleeds for you, babe 😂 Janis: idk yet just away for a bit before dreaded School Grace: no it does not 🙄🙄 Grace: ugh that's so unfair Janis: this town is awash with 'em Janis: not all dick is attached to bigger dickheads, like Grace: OMG your boyfriend gave me that same speech Grace: 💕 Janis: Yeah Janis: rehearsed that, like 😑 Grace: 😂😂😂 Grace: are you literally going now?? Janis: oh yeah Janis: can you babysit Janis: meant to ask Grace: I repeat Grace: like now??! Or Janis: how many days we got left off? Grace: 2 if you're coming back when school starts Grace: but like why would you Janis: exactly Janis: so can ya then, only need to do it 'til they're back at School Grace: the sister too? Janis: she'll probably do her own thing, that's cool Janis: mainly the boy Grace: Phew! Grace: I can already tell she's not gonna like me Grace: 😱😱 Grace: but sure I said I would Janis: don't take it personal Janis: 👍 Janis: tell you when we're actually gone Grace: okay babes Grace: what's the deal with his dad tho Grace: I don't need that drama Janis: he's just a prick but he'll be at work Janis: I'll get Cass to agree to be back 'fore he is and you'll be sound Grace: sounds like just my type Grace: so that shouldn't be a problem Janis: 💀 Janis: I think not Grace: oh please I'm joking Grace: not THAT desperate Grace: 👌👌👌 Janis: oh good, can stop moaning 'bout it then 😏 Grace: you're so rude Grace: I haven't even said anything Janis: I'm joking Janis: although Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Grace: sure biitch Grace: Mia's been defeated you don't have to be nice to me anymore Grace: not that you were Janis: charming Janis: she's a 🐍 Janis: gotta cut her into at least 7 parts 'fore she's actually dead init Grace: duh Grace: but who has the time or the energy Janis: you 'til you find a white boy, apparently Grace: excuse you, you don't even believe I can count to 7 Grace: & I said CUTE there are white boys everywhere Grace: but that's like 🦄 Janis: know your standards aren't that high Grace: UM how dare you Janis: 😂 Janis: tell me I'm wrong Grace: I brought my ex to one party let me live Grace: & he brought me really so Grace: ugh Grace: 😱😱😱 Janis: what were you thinking Grace: I obvs wasn't Grace: he got me so drunk 🙄 Janis: he didn't just drop by of his own volition Janis: you were already pissed so Grace: CAN you NOT judge me thanks Grace: & don't even I was not Janis: yes you were Janis: don't lie Grace: OMG Grace: stop calling me a liar Grace: you always do Janis: well why bother Janis: you clearly were, I was talking to you Janis: it's more embarrassing acting like that was you sober Grace: why what did I do? Janis: at the party or in the conversation Janis: either way, don't matter now Grace: well it does if you're holding so much cringe against me or something Grace: what did I say before? obvs I was drunk at the party I said so Janis: nah, I ain't Janis: nothing you wouldn't say sober no doubt Grace: ugh fine Janis: why you wanna know so bad Janis: scroll if you wanna 💀 Grace: cos you're being a bitch to me over it Janis: 🙄 Janis: ain't I always Janis: what's new Grace: exactly Grace: so boring Grace: I'm sure there's something I've done more recently you can call me out over Janis: 💔 Janis: why would I do that Grace: you literally just said Grace: you always do Grace: what's new, babes Janis: nah Janis: I'd have to care, like you said, you're on mute Janis: you just like to feel #attacked Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Grace: not today tho Grace: not now you need something Janis: ain't me Janis: you owe, we're cashing in Janis: simple as Grace: I don't owe you anything & you still want me to tell mum & dad for you Janis: don't then Janis: I don't care Grace: obvs Janis: what's your point Grace: my point is & was I was being nice to you Grace: & you're rude Janis: No, you weren't Janis: and you never are Janis: so likewise Grace: who's feeling #attacked now, hun Grace: cos I literally was Janis: so nice Janis: wow Janis: miss congeniality Janis: been friends with them too long, you've got no idea how to be nice, or what that even is Grace: I've got no idea how to talk to you cos I'm always on mute Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: doesn't stop you Janis: God loves a trier Grace: well excuse me Grace: I won't talk to you then fine Janis: okiedokie Janis: later Grace: just tell me when you're going Grace: or get your boyfriend to Janis: obviously Janis: I already said Grace: are you gonna tell mum & dad? Janis: no Janis: why would i Grace: cos they'll freak out if you just vanish duh Grace: send a text it's not like it's hard Janis: if you're concerned do it yourself Grace: OMG Grace: we literally have the chillest parents ever why do you want them to freak out Janis: if they're so chill then what's the issue Grace: you know what the issue is Grace: do you wanna be her now? Janis: 🙄 Janis: obvs Janis: never did fuck all to know where she was so it'll be fine Grace: that's not even close to being true Grace: they looked for her all the time Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: what, like it was hard Janis: sure Grace: what like it's hard to just tell them you're going? Grace: just stop being such a bitch Janis: nah Janis: just chill out, if you wanna bum 'em so hard Grace: I'm trying to help you, bitch Grace: ugh Janis: sure Janis: i'm doing what i want so how'd you work that one out Grace: sorry your boyfriend is apparently so boring you need the drama Grace: OMG Janis: what drama Janis: they're so chill so cool wow Janis: so lucky Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: get over it, grace, no one else gives a shit Grace: get over yourself first Grace: cos yeah they do Janis: wow parents of the year Janis: why don't you make them an award Grace: shut up Janis: when you're the only one that still cares and you still aren't the favourite Janis: sad times Grace: Rio's always gonna be the fave Grace: duh Janis: gotta make it seem intentional Grace: whatever Grace: I'm not bored enough ever to talk about our family dysfunction for this amount of time so Janis: piss off then? Janis: literally never trying to talk to any of you, least of all you Grace: you popped up in my inbox babes Grace: but nice try Janis: to cash a favour Janis: but good one Grace: you could have done that in 1 line Grace: why are you still here? Janis: omg please tell mummy and daddy Grace: please go away Janis: devastating Janis: so nice, you Janis: as nice as they are chill 🤞 Grace: you've told me repeatedly how nice I'm not Grace: so enjoy being right Janis: oh babes Janis: is sarcasm really lost on you Janis: genuinely didn't think you were that thick, awkward Grace: yeah sure tell me how stupid I am again Grace: we've reached that point in the convo Grace: fabulous Janis: Gotta try and make it stick Janis: working with with you're giving me here, very little Grace: why? you don't care & you never wanna talk to me so Janis: common good Janis: counts as community service Grace: sure Janis: are you so deluded you think I talk to you for some sense of fun Grace: I don't actually spend time trying to think about why you do anything anymore, babes Janis: 👌 Janis: dead convincing that Grace: too stupid to figure you out obvs Janis: awh Janis: too much of a cunt to care, more like it Grace: I care Grace: & according to you too much Grace: so like ?? Grace: try making sense Janis: try keeping up Janis: know the synapses are signed but come on Janis: singed* Grace: I just can't keep up with you, hun Grace: you're miles ahead duh Janis: does that make you feel good about yourself, yeah? Grace: oh please Grace: I never feel good about myself & we've covered that Janis: ugh shut up Janis: whine whine whine Janis: no wonder your ex would rather be looking at himself Grace: you wanna slag me off but I can't join in? Grace: typical Janis: we've all heard it a billion times Grace: same goes for everything you're saying rn so Grace: I've heard it more than a billion times from you Janis: and what? Janis: I don't care about your feelings, or how bored you pretend to be, is what you fail to grasp Grace: obvs Grace: tell me a few more times how much you don't care, yeah? Janis: I will Janis: there's literally nothing you can say, why are you still here Grace: Then stop talking to me OMG Janis: no Janis: make me Grace: I obvs can't Janis: yet I can ignore you, craziness Janis: that's what's so funny Grace: 👏 Grace: mhmm so funny that you don't care about anything but I care about you Grace: sure Janis: now you're getting it Grace: maybe I'm not entirely stupid Grace: phew Grace: what a relief like Janis: let's not get carried away Grace: 😂😂😂 Janis: cute though Grace: thanks so much Janis: do as you want anyway, tell 'em I've started on the meth if you reckon it'll kick 'em into action Grace: I'm not telling them anything Janis: good, we're on the same page for once Janis: hooray Grace: 👏 Janis: 🙌🎉 Grace: [is ignoring] Janis: [emojibombs her to blow her phone up] Grace: [somehow ignoring how annoying that is] Janis: can you tell your friend to get out my inbox Grace: no Janis: 🙄 Janis: save the backbone for her she's slagging you off Grace: I'm sure she is Janis: not Mia Janis: the other one Grace: like I said, I'm sure she is Janis: fuck's sake Janis: not much use alive are you Grace: not to you obvs Grace: mute her it's not difficult Janis: not to them if you aren't gonna play the game Janis: sort it out Grace: what do you think the game is? Grace: I annoyed Mia, as planned, of course they're all slagging me off Grace: duh Janis: yeah and you need to go grovel like you always do so you can be bffs forever Janis: this ain't my first rodeo either Grace: I don't need to do anything Grace: so if you'll excuse me Janis: I won't Janis: seriously, control your friends Grace: no thanks Janis: stop being such a useless cunt Grace: stop talking to me like that Grace: or ever preferably Grace: you agreed to help me, it's your problem if they're in your inbox too Janis: no, it ain't Janis: they're your problem Grace: no they're not Grace: they're muted on my phone rn Grace: I don't have a problem Janis: yeah singular is a bit pie in the sky Janis: for fuck sake, get it over with Grace: no thanks Janis: we get it, you're attention starved Janis: milk it all you want but keep it private, the rest of us don't need to see Mia throw you a bone Grace: 😂😂😂 Janis: how funny is it when that's exactly what you do though Janis: tears of a 🤡 Grace: 👌👌👌 Janis: this time'll be different, babes Janis: god bless Grace: makes no difference to you so get over it Janis: 😂 Janis: does though, as I've literally fucking stated so either sort your shit or just get it out of my fucking face, either way, I don't care Janis: I didn't sign up to deal with ou, I really didn't sign up to deal with them Grace: I'm not the one in your inbox, tell it to them if you're so affected Janis: listen, you fucking idiot Janis: they're not my business, I want nothing to do with them Grace: well me either rn so Janis: what part of, I don't fucking care about you do you not understand Janis: they're your friends, it's your mess, grow the fuck up and deal with it Grace: I'm just telling you why I'm not sorting them out for you Grace: but keep begging me to like Grace: like its so hard to handle for yourself Janis: You are Janis: end of story Grace: I'm really not Grace: I'm in this mess which you think is mine cos I was defending you Grace: why would I get into more drama with them to tell them to leave you alone? Grace: You've already told me I shouldn't have bothered in the first place Janis: I don't care about you, oh my God Janis: I don't care if you're exiled, it's your mess Janis: own it Grace: well I don't care if they're in your inbox so Janis: I don't care about your feelings or opinions Janis: this is all irrelevant Grace: then stop asking me to do you a favour Grace: shut them up yourself or don't Janis: it isn't a favour Janis: it's responsibility Grace: they aren't my responsibility Grace: so its not Janis: yes they are Janis: no one elese likes them Janis: you brought them here Grace: they aren't Grace: they're their own bitches making their own messes Janis: wow put it on a t-shirt Janis: in this case, they are Grace: no Grace: even if they were my friends I can't tell them what to do, they only listen to Mia Grace: & I'm not going to try cos they aren't Janis: 🎻 Grace: play it for yourself & your blown up inbox babes Janis: sort it out Grace: no Janis: you useless fucking bitch Grace: it didn't work the last time you said that Grace: but go off Janis: drop dead Grace: you wish Janis: you wish Janis: you pathetic wreck Grace: 😭😭😭 Janis: exactly Janis: invite your ex over again to make you feel loved Janis: then pretend you don't remember how he got there Grace: nice idea but no thanks he really didn't Janis: no shit Janis: not stopped you before Janis: like the Mia shit, you always revert to type, needy little cunt Grace: you're literally asking me to go back to her so you can have a clean inbox babes Grace: & I've said no Grace: deal with it Janis: yeah? Janis: because I don't care about you Janis: what? I want you to have nice friends 😂 Janis: I didn't help you for you, obviously, you know that Janis: at least Mia knows what the fuck she is Grace: go ask her to call them off then Grace: I'm sure she'd love to Grace: when she's done telling everyone she made you cry at the party obvs Janis: 💔 Janis: so tragic Janis: 'til 🤡 walked in right on cue Janis: no one's talking about me, not even Mia Janis: don't you just love that for you? Grace: you'd love that but she is Grace: they all are Janis: no, you've got them muted and I'm essentially in the group chat Janis: trust, all about you, graciekins Grace: you wish Grace: I've unmuted plenty of times Grace: over plenty of days Janis: wow ok harriet the spy Janis: get you Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Grace: just tell your boyfriend I need his address when you sort out what the hell you're doing Grace: that way I can go back to ignoring you Janis: [address] Janis: there Grace: 👋 Janis: hope you die in a car crash! 👍 Grace: dream about it Grace: 💕 Janis: you wish anyone did Grace: I really don't Janis: convincing, again Grace: I'm not going to sit here & convince you that I don't actually want people to wish me dead Grace: sorry about it Janis: yeah 'cos that's what was meant Grace: yeah cos I care what you meant Janis: it's not about caring it's just basic comprehension, really Janis: but go off with that victim narrative you fit everything into Grace: but I'm so stupid tho babes, so sorry Grace: can't comprehend you & your mysterious ways Janis: nothing mysterious about it Janis: you wish though Janis: maybe all this means I really care, wouldn't that be lovely, n'awh Grace: but I love it so much how often you tell me you don't Grace: so no Janis: ew Janis: keep your dreams to yourself Grace: you first Grace: or you know, just keep telling everyone how much you'd love it if I died Grace: put it in the group chat for the girls 💕 Janis: ugh this conversation would be so much easier if you could read Janis: you're the only one that likes to be told still Janis: but that's just your wankbank material so, we get it Janis: times are tough for you rn Grace: but you don't care about my thoughts & feelings Grace: so its so considerate for you to do it anyway Grace: best sister award Janis: You're so lucky to have me Janis: get out the lollipop sticks, you're making more work for yourself Grace: mhhhhmmm Grace: I'll get the kid brother to do it, it's fine Janis: try not to scare him with all your problems Grace: thanks for the pro tip babes Grace: working on his big brother is it? Janis: you wish you knew Janis: sad times Grace: I do know, I had a front row seat for how 😍 he is Janis: you wish you knew how to do it, obviously Grace: yeah Grace: but I don't & you're not gonna tell me so Grace: I'll have to get over it Janis: such a drag when you're so #damaged and it ain't getting you all that enabling dick Janis: shame she ain't about to ask, such a pro Grace: IKR Janis: not that she ever talked to you so bit de ja vu init babes Grace: obvs Janis: 💔 truly Grace: tragic Janis: least you only have to pretend to be messed up over it now Grace: what a relief Janis: mhhhhmmm Janis: must've sucked to have actually given a shit about her Grace: did it? Grace: you're one of the only few of us who bothered Janis: nah Grace: glad you're not 💔💔💔 Janis: obviously Janis: you care SO much Janis: the nicest person to ever exist Grace: not about her tho Janis: like you said, no one did Grace: I said you did Grace: you're saying no one Janis: typical you to presume you know me Janis: unsurprised Grace: typical you pretend like I wasn't there Grace: unsurprised Janis: as if that was an option Janis: chatting shit Grace: you're so good at it now tho Grace: well done Grace: a real glow up Janis: you know Janis: still as annoying but less and less relevant the more you scream and cry Janis: lost any real power 'fore we were out of nappies but go of Janis: regression is very in now anyway, can't all be me Grace: sure Janis: 💔💔💔 Grace: are you done, my ex is here Grace: need to revert to type like now Janis: hope you polished the mirror like a good girl then Grace: not that one Grace: but thanks Grace: so many to choose from obvs Janis: they're all the same Janis: especially with how little of a shit they give about you Janis: cute, we should get jackets Grace: duh Janis: awh tell lewis jack aaron etc i said hi Grace: I would but none of them are talkers Grace: kinda the point Janis: thick gotta pick thick Janis: not exactly a stunning conversationalist, which is depressing, the amount you chat Grace: obvs Janis: well have a lovely time Grace: thanks Grace: 👋 Janis: ✌ Grace: 💋 Janis: it's obvious enough you're fucking me without that Grace: EW Grace: be weirder Janis: really out here playing dumb Janis: not much of a talker, hates you, loves themselves Janis: i know you bum ma and da but really, couldn't settle for daddy issues could you Grace: I AM dumb, babes Grace: & all of that you've said Grace: like I said, keep your dreams to yourself first please Janis: all of it's true Janis: gonna 💔 if you start pretending they love you, christ Grace: I'm not Grace: but love the warning Grace: so cute Janis: serious, you should come with a warning Janis: ready to ring up the samaritans on your behalf every time you pop up Grace: I do, it's that I'm related to you Grace: but I work around it Grace: don't waste their time when you don't care SO MUCH babes, it's really rude Janis: that's adorable Janis: if only people disliked you 'cos of me, oh bless Janis: they give less of a shit, trust Grace: It's a warning for boys, isn't it? Grace: plenty of them think I'm like you, trust Janis: 😱 Janis: omg, boys don't like me Janis: better go commit Janis: you're the one surrounded by girls, my love Grace: but you're so wifed Grace: so you'll have to go on living or what would that poor barista boy do? Janis: again, you wish Grace: I really don't but you are Grace: he's gonna be so sad when you stop caring about him Janis: yeah, too nice for you Janis: real bummer being so in love with me, you poor thing Grace: it is for him, yeah Janis: you've puked in front of him once and now you're besties Janis: this is how we ended up here, raise the bar Grace: I wish we were cos of how much you'd hate it but sadly no Janis: 💔 Janis: as I said, you wish Janis: revelation, Gracie wants what's mine Grace: 😂😂😂 Grace: like you said, he's too nice for me, hun Janis: doesn't stop you thinking you deserve better Janis: so hard done by Grace: oh please Janis: my sentiments exactly Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Grace: have fun wherever you're going Janis: obviously Grace: bye Janis: yeah yeah Grace: so I can't even say bye now? Grace: fine Janis: say what you like Janis: likewise Grace: whatever Janis: fine Janis: 😂 Grace: [is ignoring again cos really stop Grace you aren't gonna get anywhere] Janis: [later] Janis: k we're leaving Janis: can you come now for a few hours Janis: he's back at 6:30 so Cass said she'll be back 6:15 latest Grace: sure Janis: tah Janis: gotta get [bus number] that's quickest Grace: do I have to feed her or something? what kind of tween is she? Grace: some of them can do everything & some nothing Janis: she ain't Mia, she eats Janis: she was gonna get maccies so don't worry 'bout her Grace: 👌 Janis: wait 'round 'til you're here, give you key and all that shit Janis: try not to see his dad, yeah, he dunno so Grace: I'll get the boy to drop me so I won't be long Grace: like 10 Janis: gross Janis: but cool Grace: what about the dog? Grace: you didn't mention it Janis: we're taking it Grace: thank god Janis: yeah you aren't good with dogs so no Grace: literally Janis: yet you begged for one 'til like last year Grace: did you need to have a dig at me? Grace: so rude Janis: just saying, a pugs life is hard enough without you wanting to shove it in a bag Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Grace: I don't even want a pug it's cruel Janis: now maybe Janis: 13 year old you couldn't be told shit Grace: ever maybe excuse you very much Grace: god, leave me alone Janis: whatever Grace: what time does he go to work in the AM? Janis: 6 Janis: they'll be asleep 'til later though, come 'round like 9 and then Cass can go do what she wants for the day Grace: k Janis: you're not all fucking Janis: messy are you Janis: don't scare him Grace: you're such a bitch Grace: I wouldn't do that Grace: he's a kid Janis: well if he's still there you've only just finished christ Janis: don't rip my head off, you're the one doing all this shite Grace: I said I'd do this first Grace: so fuck you Janis: whatever Janis: if you're gonna be a fucking trainwreck I ain't gonna let you Grace: if I was a trainwreck I wouldn't be coming Janis: we'll see, won't we Grace: whatever Janis: not whatever, it's serious Janis: he's 6, he can't just be left with anyone Grace: I told you, I'm fine Grace: if you don't want me to show up I won't Janis: not like I have a choice Janis: don't fuck it up Grace: don't talk to me like that Janis: if you're gonna have an attitude, don't come Grace: k I won't Grace: makes no difference to me Janis: exactly Janis: don't Grace: 👌👌👌 Janis: I I was you Janis: I would not be there when I get back Grace: wasn't planning on it now my night's opened up babes Janis: I mean it Janis: you've had a fair warning so stay the fuck outta my eyeline and earshot Grace: so do I Grace: better things to do now I'm not waiting on you to tell me to come over thanks Janis: what, like letting another ex degrade you or texting back your friends who hate you? Janis: you're a fucking joke that was never funny and now Grace: none of your business Grace: literally ever Grace: but actually I only kept him around this long so he could drive me cos I knew you'd tell me to come with one foot out the door Grace: so glad I bothered Janis: sure, blame me for riding your ex when you could've got the bus like any normal person, princess Janis: what the hell is wrong with you? Grace: I'm telling you why he was still here cos you're apparently convinced I'd turn up in idk what kind of state Grace: like I'm her now, okay Janis: This was a stupid idea Janis: he doesn't know you, what you're like Grace: it was your idea, I just agreed to it Janis: no, it was his Janis: but I shouldve said no from the off, you can't be trusted Grace: but I can, babes Grace: you just don't like the idea of that Janis: like fuck can you Janis: you're a mess Grace: you wish Grace: I could do this, you just don't want me to Janis: why would I? Grace: cos if you did you could go Grace: & I know you want that Janis: well I want you around less Grace: fine Grace: I'm not Janis: Good Grace: tell your boyfriend we can work something else out since I still owe him Janis: fuck off Janis: this is what I don't want Janis: go away, no one owes anyone anything Grace: not true Grace: but whatever Janis: true, do one Janis: get it out of your fucking head Grace: like I said, whatever Janis: tell me when you've gone Grace: I am gone obvs Grace: I'm in a car Janis: Good Janis: I can leave Grace: sure can Janis: I'm not forgiving you for this Grace: you hate me anyway what do I care? Grace: you're gonna be more of a bitch Grace: wow Janis: do you not understand what you've actually done Janis: I can't be around your or I'm scared I'm going to genuinely hurt you Janis: cut the bullshit for one second 'cos this is real Grace: then don't be around me Grace: it's your own fault that I'm not doing this Grace: you could be on your way to wherever Janis: Yeah, 'cos going is really an option now Janis: you're not that stupid Grace: I'll come over now if you stop being such a bitch about it Grace: but you literally never can Grace: you'd rather act like it's my fault cos I hung out with a boy who I've fucked a few times for a few hours Grace: nothing even really happened Janis: I'm not interested Janis: it's too late now it's ruined Grace: you want it to be too late Grace: it's literally not Grace: I'm saying Janis: well funnily enough this isn't about you Janis: he's not gonna wanna go Grace: did he say that? Janis: I don't know Janis: you think I can listen Grace: Janis, get a fucking grip Grace: he loves you he obvs wants to go Janis: well I just told him we couldn't Grace: so un-tell him Grace: OMG Janis: oh yeah, that's not insane Grace: you're insane if you don't go, bitch Grace: what did you say for why you couldn't go? Janis: idk, just that we couldn't, end of Grace: so tell him I got held up but I'm omw Grace: he can be mad at me what do I care Grace: he looks cute like that Janis: piss off Janis: fine Grace: you're not gonna like hit me when I get there, are you? Janis: no Janis: get a head start if you're that concerned Grace: I'm just asking Janis: just Janis: thanks Janis: alright Grace: ew stop Janis: don't start Grace: don't thank me Grace: I'm not doing it for you Janis: whatever Grace: I told mum & dad Grace: so you might wanna put dad on mute Grace: just saying Janis: knew you would Janis: fair enough Janis: noted Grace: that's not for you either so don't like thank me again Grace: so weird Janis: I know on that one Grace: sure Grace: do I get a where now or are you just going? Janis: you gonna tell them that too Grace: ew Grace: no Grace: you know mum would drive there or something cringe Grace: I'd die of second hand embarrassment Janis: Good luck to her Janis: just gonna see how far we can get Grace: really? Grace: or is that what you're telling me cos you think I'm gonna tell everyone Janis: yeah and I wanna seem dead cool Janis: of course really Grace: everyone in this family would 👏 that Grace: so free spirited of you babes Janis: 🙄 Janis: don't give a shit Janis: hopefully we get murdered so I don't have to hear the 👏 Grace: I'm not telling them so you won't have to Grace: so don't get murdered Grace: okay? Janis: not sure it's a negotiation sitch Janis: do my best Grace: yeah Grace: I'm like 10 away again so Janis: alright Janis: we're out front 🚬 so I'll see you Grace: ew Grace: of course you are Janis: what do you mean of course I've never smoked Grace: bitch please Grace: I'm stupid, not oblivious Janis: well recently but I ain't a smoker Grace: didn't ask Grace: if you wanna not be as good of a runner that's not my buisiness Janis: 🙄 Janis: bitch please Grace: 🙄 Grace: ugh why do boys HAVE TO talk so much Grace: just drive Janis: 😂 Janis: if that wasn't typed I wouldn't believe I'd just heard that right Janis: probably 'cos you don't wanna talk to him? Grace: I don't wanna hear how AMAZING it'd be if I gave him a blowjob rn Grace: boy no I don't want to die Janis: you better get off the phone to me if you're doing that Grace: that's what I'm saying tho Grace: not happening Grace: me in a car crash is your dream, babes Grace: also I'm so close to barista boy's house, is that a compliment or can he only last a minute? 🤔 Janis: idk who it even is so I can't tell you Janis: you should know surely Grace: I just remembered the answer Grace: & why he's an ex Janis: grim 😏 Grace: lowkey need out of this car before he gets more highkey Grace: ugh Janis: you really shoulda got the bus Grace: bus drivers creep me out Grace: they're always staring at me like I'm walking around with my boobs out Grace: ew Grace: at least I know this perv Janis: at least there's witnesses on the bus Janis: and a company to complain to if you're feeling it Grace: OMG don't Grace: I'm having the worse day if this is my last one Janis: it be like that Janis: not often having a banging one Janis: 'less you plan to OD or have a heartattack fucking a stripper or something Grace: I know you'd LOVE for me to be murdered but can you not please Janis: well quick gimme his name and license Grace: UM no Grace: let's keep it at you not knowing who he is, thanks Janis: you would rather be murdered Janis: also I'll see when he drops you off 'less you're gonna make him park a road over like an embarrassing mum Grace: tbh Grace: & yeah I so am Janis: you're a nutter Janis: idgaf Grace: exactly Grace: so you're just gonna be a bitch Grace: & I can't even rn so Janis: so Janis: you don't lurve him, clearly Grace: that makes it worse Grace: duh Janis: you'd rather I slag off the love of your life Janis: I mean, do, on the reg Grace: I could defend that Grace: not spending a whole afternoon with this boy just cos I don't wanna be alone Grace: there's nothing I can say about that Janis: meh same Janis: least you ain't going away for a minibreak Grace: the fact you can say that like its a bad thing is why I don't ever wanna know you Janis: 🙄 you're so dramatic Janis: we're bonding, bitch Grace: oh excuse me, you get to miss school with a cute boy & it's such a drag Grace: & he loves you can't forget that Janis: he does not Janis: behave Grace: he so does Grace: the most dramatic 😍😍😍 I've ever seen Janis: probably just wants road head init Grace: 😂 Grace: thanks for not shagging him in the middle of the restaurant tho, really appreciate that, babes Janis: ryan was putting me right off Janis: didn't do it/not do it for you, obvs Grace: you were doing the opposite of putting him off so obvs Grace: idk how many times he asked me to sit on his lap Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: 🤢 Janis: woulda had to drag you off on principle Grace: I should've to crush him Grace: v tempting Grace: but killing him was not the mission sadly Janis: really gotta call it a day 'fore she gets you in on a murder pact Janis: fuck telling ma and da, tell someone who'll actually do something about it, like Grace: oh so you want him to live a long & productive life, okay Janis: not about him Janis: you would not do well in prison Grace: you should be encouraging me to go then Grace: duh Janis: nah Janis: imagine the letters you'd write Janis: no hair straighteners, no make up Grace: at least I wouldn't have to stress about my prison wife being prettier than me Grace: so might be 😍😍😍 Janis: you've got plenty experience being someone's bitch, true Janis: if you wanna come out, just do it, btw Grace: I told you, I can't Grace: would love to Janis: 😂 Janis: every girl you know is a massive bitch, I don't see how it'd be any better Grace: I wouldn't date any of them ew Grace: I don't even like them Grace: as friends Janis: you're so weird Grace: you're so rude Grace: I'm not weird Janis: you don't like your friends, how is that normal Grace: It's normal of everyone I know Grace: none of us like each other Janis: Mental Grace: 🤷 Janis: have you considered Janis: not Grace: babes, do you wanna be more specific? Janis: not being friends with people you hate Grace: obvs Janis: annnnd Grace: and what? Grace: you know what the answers are Janis: why though Grace: like I said, you know so Janis: I don't know why you would Janis: well Janis: maybe Grace: you so do Grace: & we don't need to go into it when I'm stuck in a car with this boy, do we? Janis: whatever Janis: i'm easy Grace: I know Grace: but if you don't want me to show up a mess don't upset me Grace: 🤷 Janis: bit rude Janis: you just called me a slag Grace: you wish Janis: yeah lifelong ambition that Janis: dead wanna follow in ma's footsteps Grace: yeah obvs Grace: really get that vibe from you Janis: you get what I give ya, babe Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: you know it's true Grace: I didn't say it wasn't Janis: hmm Janis: d'ya reckon if I 'turn Mia, Drew would fuck her to death? 🤔 Grace: not something I wanna think about thanks Grace: ew Janis: you were all about the murder plots five seconds ago Grace: but he's so old & she's so bad in bed Grace: I can't Janis: 1. he isn't really is he, he's not even 40 yet Janis: 2. know you're hating but going that hard sounds like you have firsthand so Grace: 👌👌👌 fine he's sooo gross whatever Grace: & you think I do anyway & I'm talking to you rn so Janis: meh probably would Janis: just an FYI so you don't get a callout post on your callout post Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Grace: can you not I'm trying to direct an idiot who has already gone the wrong way twice Janis: that's how he passed Janis: #roadhead Grace: mhmm Grace: I'm getting out this is stupid Grace: ugh Janis: that was funny, coulda laughed, bitch Grace: you don't know I didn't LOL Grace: & I'll never tell you bitch Janis: woulda heard you from here Grace: it wasn't that funny babe Grace: I'm not gonna go that hard Janis: inside voice who? Janis: your fault diego is deaf, btw Grace: RUDE! Janis: 😂 Grace: it's so freezing Grace: how are you just outside casually Janis: 🙄 Janis: just tough like that, obvs Grace: sure Janis: 'scuse you bitch Grace: excuse me why Janis: don't deny it Grace: literally did not Janis: you've got such an attitude problem you know Janis: I blame the parents Grace: just blame me Grace: it's how this goes, hun Janis: your hard on for them is unbearable Grace: I'll add it to the things Janis hates about me list Grace: thanks so much Janis: seriously Janis: it's not natural Grace: I'm not normal or natural now, okay Janis: okay zooey Janis: calm down Grace: no Janis: ick Grace: 🤷 Janis: you're real gross, graciekins Grace: keep repeating yourself babes Grace: nobody's over it or anything Janis: know you hate yourself but refering to yourself as nobody is a bit touched Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: you here yet ugh Grace: I'm walking get over it Grace: if you can't see me I'm obvs not Janis: hurry up good god Janis: places to be Janis: lorry drivers to suck off Grace: shut up & I could Janis: could you Grace: OMG Grace: leave me alone Janis: 😂 Janis: ⏲ Grace: do you want me to turn around & go home? Janis: you don't get to hold it over me, your idea Janis: chipchop Grace: I can do whatever I want Janis: ooh Janis: go on then Grace: fine Grace: bye Janis: 👋 Grace: 👋 Janis: DID YOU THINK THAT'D WORK Janis: genuine question Grace: I don't know or care what you're talking about Grace: I'm just genuinely going home so Janis: bless your heart Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: you better not be Janis: he's all worked up ow and YOU said you wouldn't do that to a kid Grace: fight me later, babes Grace: I'm tired Janis: fuck off, Grace Grace: literally am Janis: get in here now Janis: this isn't a game Grace: stop treating me like a pawn then, bitch Janis: hurry up Janis: stop timewasting Grace: stop talking to me like that Janis: whatever Grace: not even Janis: fuck sake cry about it later Janis: you owe Jimmy, not me Grace: feel free to tell him I still do cos you can't stop being a bitch for 2 seconds Janis: shup up Janis: you're so pissy Grace: exactly Grace: I'm in no mood for you being so rude to me for literally no reason rn Janis: I'm not gonna lick you out for doing something you have promised to do Janis: get over it and we'll be done here Grace: you get over it Grace: cos I'm over you treating me like this all the time Janis: uhuh Grace: so I'm not coming & you can deal with that Janis: 👍 Grace: 👌 Janis: well tah for nothing, you massive cunt Janis: and I've changed my mind, I am going to hit you if I see you Janis: ✌ Grace: you're so welcome Grace: & I'm unsurprised Janis: Don't come anywhere near me I swear to God Grace: why would I? Grace: I turned around once for you already & now I have to find someone else to pick me up Janis: good thing you've disappointed half the lads in school then isn't it Janis: plenty of potential pity rides Grace: yeah Janis: disgusting Grace: 🙄🙄🙄 Janis: you reckon you hate yourself but you don't enough Janis: actually vile Grace: noted Janis: seriously fuck you Janis: I can't have one thing Grace: & I can't have 5 seconds without you slagging me off Grace: so Janis: boo fucking hoo Janis: it isn't even comparable you selfish bitch Grace: so devastated for you that you can't leave Janis: it isn't just that are you so fucking Janis: forget it Janis: actually give up on you but I mean it Grace: fine by me Grace: you're horrible to me anyway Janis: at least I fucking notice you cunt Janis: who else does, no one Grace: yeah cos that's the attention I want Grace: thanks Janis: well poor fucking you with all your fake friends and boyfriends Janis: you can go back to feeling better about it when I have no one again, status quo Grace: I'll happily take all of that over a second of you being real about how you hope I die or whatever Janis: no shit Janis: I know Grace: obvs Grace: you know everything, yeah Janis: shut the fuck up Janis: this isn't about you Janis: you don't get to ruin the one thing I have and have a pity party like I should care Grace: no, it's about you freaking out that your boyfriend's gonna leave you Janis: fuck you, seriously Grace: I hope he does if this is how horrible you're gonna be Janis: well you can't have everything Janis: sorry, princess Grace: I don't have anything duh Grace: you've said it enough times Janis: bullshit Janis: I've told you, I'm not feeling sorry for you Grace: literally wasn't asking Grace: but it makes no sense to tell me I can't have everything & also tell me I have nothing Grace: so like Grace: figure out your insults Janis: you always are because you're pathetic Janis: I ain't got time Janis: some of us still have places to be Grace: sure babes Grace: me too Janis: difference between me and you is, I actually do it, Grace Janis: can tell the 'rents the danger factor is amped up if you still reckon you care Grace: I was actually trying to help you & I'm so glad I bothered so guess what no Janis: 💔 Grace: obvs Grace: save it for the former barista Janis: you really are that stupid Janis: you think I'm still there or Janis: you get to ruin my life and not even understand what the fuck you've done, yeah, why not Grace: I don't care where you are, you still love him anyway Janis: shut the fuck up Grace: why should I? you won't ever Janis: because you don't get to take it away and fucking talk on it like you have any idea Grace: I can do whatever I like Grace: you're that stupid if you think he's not gonna come after you Grace: wherever you've gone Janis: No, he won't Janis: but you wouldn't know that or why 'cos you don't know a thing about it Grace: Unless you've killed him, yeah he will Janis: really 'cos it's me that's had this conversation with him, not you Janis: thanks, truly Grace: oh so you think he's that stupid too Grace: you really know how to treat people, babes Janis: no because he's got his own fucking issues, Grace and you've forced my hand so yeah, now I've had to do something really fucked Grace: I haven't forced you into anything Grace: you did it Janis: bullshit Janis: I wanted to go with him and because of you I'm going alone, you can't deny it 'cos if you'd just fucking did what you said you would then he'd be here too Grace: Take responsibility for yourself, Janis Grace: You're going alone cos you treat people like shit and expect them to just take it Grace: I didn't make you leave him there Grace: you could've stayed with him easily, what he wants is to be with you Janis: you aren't people Grace: what's he though? you love him & you did that Janis: fuck you and fucking easily as if you've ever had a real relationship with anyone, and I don't just mean lads Janis: how dare you lecture me Grace: yeah sure make it about me cos you can't handle what you just did Grace: you could've just stopped being a bitch to me & it would have fixed this Grace: you could've stayed with him like you want instead of running away Janis: well no I couldn't or I would have Grace: then don't blame me Janis: it's your fault Janis: I can't make it any clearer Grace: it's your own fault Janis: no, it's yours Janis: you get treated like shit because that's how you treat me and expect a fucking groveling thanks Grace: I don't even Grace: & I didn't expect any thanks just not for you to make me feel like shit for a second Janis: you always feel like shit Janis: and you want it to be my fault but it ain't Grace: yeah so that makes it okay for you to add to it Grace: sure Grace: the things you say & do are your fault, babe Grace: even when you want them to be mine Janis: you're incapable of doing anything and not making it about yourself Grace: well I'm sorry Grace: all I've got is myself & I can't do this with you anymore Janis: no you're not Grace: yeah I am Janis: well save it Janis: one thing Janis: and it wasn't even me asking Grace: it was still you that ruined it Grace: for yourself Janis: if you like Grace: I don't Grace: but it's what's happened Janis: know negging is super effective on you but I'm not buying it Grace: I don't care Janis: I know Janis: so stop pretending you do Grace: I'm not pretending, I told you I can't do this with you anymore Grace: I'm not Grace: stay away, come back, I don't care Janis: lovely Grace: just actually leave me alone Janis: like I've said, this isn't about you Grace: & like I've said, I do not care Janis: sure Grace: I'm muting you now Janis: I sincerely don't care Janis: you are the last thing on my mind Grace: so glad Grace: 👋 Janis: if you were, you wouldn't feel the need to say it Janis: so go and stay gone because I have no energy for you now Grace: [is ignoring cos nothing more I can even say at this point]

[loverness-writes]

Suspension Issues

Warning: Robot Death

Bing was bored. Bored Bored Bored. His skateboard was bust after a handrail trickshot accident and so the only other ‘trick’ vehicle was the communal car.

Unfortunately, the suspension was also bust, due to Wilford not caring about potholes or speed bumps at any capacity. The car needed to be inspected and fixed and Google was tasked with the job. In the meantime, Wilford was banned from the car and egos could only drive at a manageable speed on smooth roads.

However, boredom was taking over and Bing decided to take the car out for a joy ride. It wouldn’t be long. Just some donuts and ramping up the deserted construction dirt hills out back. He was a responsible adult. He knew how to drive. He quickly snatched up the keys and snuck into the garage. He’d only be gone for half-an-hour or so.

Twenty minutes later, Google gets a pager message from Bing. Thinking it a nuisance, he disregards it and continues soldering the new upgrade panels for the security system. Three minutes later, he gets an ‘urgent’ notice from Bing. Google sighs as he puts down his tools. He told Bing he wouldn’t be able to fix his board until the upgrade was done. Bingiplier was an extremely impatient android.

Google followed the GPS coordinates from the notice, but was quickly surprised when it led out the door instead of towards Bing’s room. He was even more surprised when he noticed the coordinates were for behind a dirt pile and there were pieces of glass spread around the corner. He started rushing.

There at the bottom of the hill of dirt lay the car on its right side, front windshield cracked into a million-piece kaleidoscope and both side windows blown out from the impact. Car parts lay broken and warped in the dirt. The front left wheel was bent at an odd angle and the axle looked broken.

A search result popped up immediately. Suspension Spring Collapse. ‘Sudden failure results when a spring, or other weight-bearing part, breaks and is referred to as a collapse. Avoid hitting potholes whenever possible (for this and other reasons) and try to slow down over very large bumps such as driveway openings and speed bumps.’

This could have been avoided if he hadn’t kept putting the repair off. It was only a simple repair. Replace a spring coil or two and check for any other damage. He felt like a stupid robot. A stupid robot with incorrect priorities and a too ambitious ‘to-do’ list.

He walked around the car and dropped to his knees when he found Bing slumped against the inside ‘floor’ of the car, his back semi-resting on the inside of the once-roof of the car. His synthetic skin on his arms and torso was torn from the broken window and impact and oil was leaking out of the missing socket of his right arm. The detached arm lay useless a few feet away.

Google punched through the windshield, careful to do it in a location as to not shower Bing and removed enough glass to make a hole big enough to climb through. Although he didn’t like the idea of climbing INTO the overturned car, Bing was not in a condition to be easily moved. He initiated his scans and assessments. He started to continually glance at Bing’s face which began producing small streams of oil from his eye-sockets once Google began prodding at the damage. Once-in-a-while, Bing’s face would scrunch up from sensory overload. His core hadn’t stopped whirring from overdrive since Google found him. It was one of the only signs that he was still online.

After fifteen long minutes, Google’s final assessment came up ‘negative for repair’. There was too much damage. The amount of work that would need to be done would not leave Bing with enough original parts to be… ‘Bingiplier’. Before Google could share this information, he received an electric shock from Bing’s shaking hand and a pager message popped up on his internal screen.

 “I know.”

 Google couldn’t tell whether the oil on his hands was from Bing’s broken body or from his own face anymore. The two robots sat in silence for the longest minute of Google’s life, he tried to get Bing to say something, anything. But everything he received via message was distorted with letters misplaced. Without speaking, he finally opened the front panel of the android. Sparks shot out continuously and wires were disconnected everywhere. Google reached in and grabbed the main one running from the power source to the core. He felt a shaking, frail hand weakly grip his arm.

“I’m sorry” showed on Google’s lips however, the noise itself was lost in the sound of nearby sirens passing by on a different street to a different location calling towards a different problem. There was no help coming for them. He closed his eyes and yanked the cable, opening them only to find a small smile forming on Bing’s face as the lights in his eyes dimmed faster and faster.

 Everything froze. The mechanics stopped its ceaseless clattering, and the air was deadly still.

 Everyone had some sort of tear on their face sitting around the living room. Dr. Iplier had streams even going around the stiff hands on his face because as a human doctor, he could have done nothing. Bim and King of the Squirrels quietly sobbed while hugging each other on the couch; Bing was the only other in the office who loved adventures. Host stood silently in the corner, however his narrations were kept to short quips and a small track of red ran down his cheek. Wilford was choked up in the armchair because he wouldn’t be able to see Bing’s smiling face for a while; of course he wasn’t dead. Even Dark seemed a little more somber than usual, sitting on the matching armchair; but if you asked him how he was feeling, he’d rather be anywhere else obviously.

Google was off to the side with a blank expression. Work, work, work was the only thing on his mind. The only thing in his programming. That, and his objectives. He had no emotions. Useless things. They brought him too much pain and was interfering with coding. What was the point in charging when the only image behind eyelids was Bing’s tear-tracked, blank, pained face; mechanics whirring with errors and overloads. No, emotional upgrades were removed and buried along with Bing’s parts. They were all useless at this point. Too much sentimental value.

________________

Google’s head snapped up. His sensors were telling him he had been laying hunched over on his hard, wooden desk for the better part of an hour and a half. His internal core was whirring extremely loud and drives under his synthetic skin were spinning fast. His chest kept rising and falling intensely, trying to suck in as much cooling air as possible to slow down his core. A simple scan of his hard-drive registered the message ‘PANIC’ to pop up. ‘sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior.’

Fear. Anxiety. Those were emotions. When did those return? Before Google could scan further and answer his own questions, the Host seemed to appear into the tech workshop. He walked up to Google as somber as ever, hands neatly behind his back.

“The Host asks if Googliplier is alright. He seems to show signs of intense fear and worry. Typically signs of a nightmare.” Then he smirked, “The Host knows the signs well.”

“I’m fine, Host. Androids do not dream. How can I help you?” Google tried to make his face as stoic as possible.

“The Host asks if Google will finally fix the suspension on the car today as he has been putting it off for two weeks now. It has likely become quite dangerous.” As the Host turned to leave, he then added over his shoulder, “The Host had a vision recently that Bingiplier may wish to borrow the car today. He seems quite bored.” and then left from the room.

Google sat at his desk for a minute more before silently rising and thinking his plan over as he reached his destination. He knocked sharp and loud. Soon after, the door opened to Bing leaning against the doorframe, tossing a baseball in the air over and over again.

“Sup, Googs!”

“I request your assistance. The suspension on the communal car needs fixing and the job will be done faster with two robots. Then, uh, it is possible that we can fix your skateboard.”

“Aww sweet! Lemme get my working gloves.”

But this time, Google didn’t roll his eyes at that humanistic comment. He was too busy in his mind, replaying the scene of a dying robot lying slumped over in a broken car.

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For those wondering, let’s just say the Host made sure to transfer that vision along.

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