#and once i get my new laptop in march i’ll start writing stuff

[archivistinblue]

i’m finally quitting my long term job of seven years in may in order to go to school full time this fall

[supernovanim]

Neighbours Part 3

Some people found my stuff and read it! And in celebration of that, here’s the third and final part. It’s a bit longer as I was enjoying writing. In personal news, I still have no job but had an interview this morning that went well. And my driving instructor got Covid so now I have to quarantine. Fun times!

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

Summary: Dylan annoys you so you decide to torture him for a bit. Then hot stuff happens. The End.

Pairing: Female Reader x Dylan O’Brien

Warnings: Smut. Voyeurism. Actual boning.

Word count: 2,622

Working from home wasn’t as fun as you’d initially hoped. Once you’d got over the novelty of being able to wear whatever you wanted, and decided pyjamas weren’t helpful to productivity, it was pretty much like normal work just with more video calls. You’d set up your home office in a corner of the living room next to the wide doors to the garden. Well away from potential distractions in the kitchen.

Speaking of which, you’d got some messages from Dylan

I’m bored, can I come over?

No, I’m working

Please? I’m so bored. Let me come over, I promise I won’t distract you.

Liar. You’d be a terrible distraction and you know it. I’m sure you can amuse yourself somehow.

You firmly set your phone aside and turned back to your laptop, losing yourself in the project. It wasn’t exactly scintillating, but you got into the flow of writing and didn’t look back up until almost lunchtime.

Now to grab some food. Maybe with a side dish of hot neighbour watching. You looked down at your outfit – as your AC was still bust you’d gone for very short denim cutoffs and a tiny vest top. You genuinely hadn’t worn it to tease Dylan, but there was no harm in having a little fun.

You sidled into the kitchen half hoping he wouldn’t notice, and headed straight for the fridge. No sooner had you got it open and were reaching for some salad when your phone rang.

“Have you finished work now?” Dylan pleaded

You closed the fridge door and looked up at his house, where he was standing wearing basketball shorts and no shirt, looking deliciously dishevelled.

“Not really” you responded sadly “I’ve got time for lunch, then I’ve got a zoom call, and I’m on a deadline”

“How much time for lunch?” he asked contemplatively, one eyebrow raised

“Not enough time for you to come over. Don’t even tempt me, seriously”

“No, no…that’s not what I was thinking, honest” he explained quickly, running one hand through his hair. “But...but maybe we could have a repeat of earlier? That outfit’s great. You look…great”

“Thanks” you grinned “But I’m only wearing it becau-“

Dammit. You were interrupted by another call on your cell.

“I’m really sorry Dylan, I’ve got to take this call it’s work” you blurted out, switching calls and shooting him an apologetic look through the glass.

“Hey Y/N. Sorry for the late notice but we really need to go over some stuff before the video call”. It was your boss, in a pretty typical bit of awful timing.

“Sure. OK, what’s up?” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound too annoyed.

As you lent back against the fridge and listened to your boss go over a million tiny points that really didn’t need to be discussed right now, you looked back up at where Dylan was at his window, rolling your eyes.

He looked irritated. He lent his forehead against the window in exasperation, visibly exhaling. You knew how he felt – bored, annoyed and turned on. You tried to focus on your boss’s voice to distract you from imagining licking the mole below Dylan’s left ear.

You saw him shift his weight a little and open an eye to look at you. A small smile played across his lips as one of his hands moved towards the waistband of his shorts. You frowned – this really wasn’t the time. But his hand kept moving down, until you could see the outline of his fingers palming against the growing bulge in his shorts. He looked back up at you and winked.

“Shit. Oh, sorry Karen I didn’t mean you” you hastily told your boss, turning away from the window “I…um…knocked something over. I’ll need to clean it up – can I call you back?”

“Don’t be long Y/N – this is important!”

You hung up and turned back to look at Dylan. You were seriously annoyed, but he just looked smug. You saw him reach for his cellphone again and ring you back.

“That was completely unacceptable” you snapped “That was my boss! I can’t believe you tried that”

“Oh come on, Y/N. It was just a little fun…you looked bored”

“Just because you don’t have to work right now doesn’t mean I can be available whenever you want me. It’s fucked up Dylan. I’ve got to go ring my boss back – I don’t want to talk to you any more”

And with that you hung up, turning on your heel and marching out of the kitchen without a backward glance. It felt good, for now at least.

_____

You tortured Dylan for two full days, ignoring his messages and calls.

You walked around your kitchen in tiny outfits, purposefully not looking out the window. When it got dark you walked around in just your favourite underwear, licking icecream from a spoon.

You wore your tightest yoga pants and took your mat out by the small pool, pretty certain you could be seen from Dylan’s deck doing downward dog. The crashing sound of someone walking into a sun lounger confirmed this.

You got a delivery of new sex toys and underwear and opened the package on your kitchen counter, holding the large rabbit vibrator up to inspect it thoughtfully. You don’t think you imagined the muffled “goddammit!” that came from next door.

After two days you thought he’d probably got the message. Besides, the vibrator wasn’t really enough. You threw on your favourite short red summer dress, walked into your kitchen and called him back.

He answered on the first ring “Y/N! I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It won’t happen again, promise”

He appeared at the window looking suitably contrite.

“It better not Dylan. What do you want from me?”

“This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what you want. What would you like me to do? What do you…like?”

“Hmm. Good question. Firstly, I like you with no shirt on”

“Done” he answered quickly, almost dropping the phone in his haste to pull his shirt over his head. You admired the way his lean arm muscles flexed as he reached to catch it.

“Since you asked nicely, I’ll tell you. I like lots of things. I like imagining licking that mole under your left ear”

His hand came up to rub at the spot unconsciously, as his ears turned pink.

“I like being kissed passionately. I like being pressed up against walls and held. I like my neck being sucked on while I grind up against a guy’s thigh.”

He closed his eyes and you heard a low groan

“I like my wrists being pinned above my head. I like my clothes being ripped off. I like my nipples being touched. Um…”

“Go on. Tell me Y/N, tell me what else you like”

You took a deep shaky breath

“I like fingers in me... I like fingers inside me and a mouth on my clit, tasting me. And then I like being fucked really hard – being pressed into mattresses or bent over counters or…”

His eyes shot open and looked at you “God…fuck that sounds so good. Please…please let me do that. Let me come over. I could make you feel so good, the whole neighbourhood would hear you scream my name” his voice was soft and low. “C’mon Y/N, you know you want to”

You ran a hand down the front of your dress slowly, enjoying the way the fabric brushed against your skin. Across the way you saw Dylan’s eyes darken with lust. You felt powerful, reckless, and very, very turned on.

Fuck it. “Alright, but be quick before I change my mind”

You giggled as Dylan scrambled away from the window, almost tripping up in his haste.

“Agh, I’ll only be a minute. Got to put shoes on” he babbled.

“You’ve got 5 minutes to get here before I start without you” you instructed, hanging up the phone and leaving the kitchen.

Just a few minutes later you heard a tap on your front door. Opening it you were confronted with a slightly out of breath Dylan, shirt on inside out.

“That was pretty qui..” you started, but were stopped by his lips meeting yours, backing you up hard against the hallway wall as the door slammed behind him. His body pressed fully against yours as his hands tangled in your hair.

You moaned, parting your lips as he slipped his tongue in between them. You could feel his hard length pressing into your thigh already as he pinned you to the wall. He moved his lips to your neck, sucking gently on a spot just under your ear that made you moan even louder.

“You sound so sexy right now” he murmured against your skin “wonder what other sounds I can get you to make”

His hands moved downwards, lifting your dress and running along your thighs. His long fingers brushed gently against the outside of your underwear, and you felt yourself bucking your hips towards him, desperate for more contact. Slowly he hooked his fingers underneath the waistband and pulled your panties down your legs and off, throwing them to one side.

Kneeling in front of you he lifted your dress and licked his lips slowly, looking up at you.

“You look pretty wet already, Y/N. Been thinking about this?”

You nodded and swallowed hard, too desperate to form full sentences. “Yes. Please”

“Please what?” he smirked

“Please lick me, taste me, fuck me. Anything, just do something please Dylan” you gasped frantically

He smiled and brought his face towards your core, and you felt him delicately lick a stripe across your slit, causing your legs to shake slightly as you lent against the wall.

Placing his hands behind your knees he hooked your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself between them and pressing you up the wall. You ran your hands through his scruffy hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a low sound from him as his mouth returned to pleasuring you. He continued to lick and suck, his tongue quickly moving across your clit as a tingling sensation started to spread across your body. Another moan left your mouth as you felt the warmth pooling in your belly.

Slowly you felt one of his fingers at your entrance, then two, pulsing in and out slowly.

“So, so good. Going to...g-going to” you stuttered, and he sped up his movements, sucking on your clit and twisting his fingers slightly.

“Cum for me Y/N, want your pretty pussy soaking before I fuck you” he growled, the vibrations from his words tipping you over the edge as you came hard, crying out his name, vision blurring.

Carefully he unhooked your legs and stood up, moving his body against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you deeply. It turned you on even more, as you felt your arousal on the inside of your thighs.

Desperately you tugged at the hem of his shirt, wanting to touch him, feel him against you. He pulled it over his head and you placed your hands on his chest, feeling the warm skin under the pads of your fingertips.

He continued to kiss your neck as his fingers fiddled with the buttons on the front of your dress, becoming frustrated. With only two buttons undone he let out an exasperated sigh and tore at the fabric instead, popping the buttons off the front and leaving your bra exposed.

“hey, this is my favourite dress” you scolded, but he distracted you by kissing down the swell of your breasts and pushing the fabric of your bra down.

“I’ll make it up to you, promise. Christ, these are lovely” he sighed, as he attached his lips to one nipple and bit softly. It felt so good, you forgot entirely about the dress and tipped your head back, breathing out in satisfaction.

“Dylan...maybe we should take this to the bedroom”

“Yeah, the problem with that is if I’m not inside you within the next 5 minutes, things are going to get very messy”

You gasped at his words and moved your hands underneath his waistband, gripping his length. He hissed as you moved your thumb across the tip.

His eyes closed as he breathed deeply. “See what I mean – careful now”

“Been thinking about this, Dylan?” you looked at him teasingly. “Been thinking about fucking me?”

“God yes, I’ve not stopped thinking about it since that night you walked into your kitchen in that damn sexy underwear. Can’t stop thinking about it. Pretty much been hard ever since”

“Well maybe we should do something about that then”. And you unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them down slightly, his cock springing free.

You continued to palm him with your hand until he grabbed your wrist “t-told you to be careful, you keep going like that I’m definitely going to ruin your dress”

He raised your wrist above your head and pinned it there with one hand, reaching into the pocket of his shorts with the other and removing a small foil package. He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length, positioning himself at your entrance.

As he slid slowly into you his lips met yours, and you both moaned at the feeling. His length filled you up, pressing against all the sensitive spots on your walls. Once he was fully in he stilled, waiting for you to adjust. You shifted slightly against the wall, letting him hold you up. Once you’d got used to him you nodded, bucking your hips to encourage him to move.

Slowly he slid in and out of you, positioning himself to hit just right. You felt weightless, everything centred on the feeling of his movements as he thrust in and out.

You tangled your hand in his hair and brought your mouth to his ear. “Harder, Dyl”

He groaned and moved faster, slamming your back against the wall though you barely felt the pain. You hooked one leg up around his hip, deepening his access. He was hitting that sweet spot inside you and you felt a tingle begin at your toes and your walls start to clench.

“Fuck, you’re so tight” he choked out, his movements starting to become sloppy “I-I’m so close already”

He snaked a hand between your bodies and found your clit with his thumb, rubbing over the sensitive nub. The coil within you started to tighten again and your toes curled. Oh god, it felt so good and you wanted the feeling to go on forever, but as he bit softly at a spot just below your ear you felt yourself come apart

“Yes, yes, there, god don’t stop Dylan, yes!”

As your walls clenched around him you felt him tense and release, filling the condom and crying your name against your neck. Your combined moans filled the small hallway.

Slowly you came back down to earth and you felt him slip out of you, sighing at the feeling of loss. Your hands tangled in his hair again as he pressed a kiss to your damp forehead.

“That was incredible. So much better than drinking beer on my own. Thanks for letting me come over. Eventually”

“My pleasure” you smirked. “Do you want a drink or something now?”

“Oh no, I’m barely getting started. First I’m going to fuck you over your kitchen counter like I’ve been thinking of for the last few days. Then we might make it to the bedroom”

You smiled “I like the sound of that very much”

“Good to hear” he smiled, as he hooked your legs around his waist and picked you up. “Welcome to the neighbourhood”

THE END

If you liked this fic, please reblog - it helps people find it (even if you don’t have many followers! Its an algorithm thing i think, tumblr will put it higher in the tags)

[bettsfic]

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

[softspots]

Update (all is well!)

hello all, and my sincerest apologies for not making this post much sooner; considering the last time I posted here I was announcing that I and my family had contracted Covid-19, doubtless the long and unexplained silence from me caused some worries. better late than never, though, so here I am to tell you all that I and my family are all okay! Covid-19 was hard on us (particularly on me and one of my parents, as we experienced the most intense and longest-lasting symptoms), but thankfully none of us required a hospital visit and we came out of it alright.

now that I've explained that, you're probably wondering why I've taken so long to come back, or even just make an update post like I'm doing now. and, well... after we all got over Covid-19, several other things happened. to list it briefly:

a conflict between me and my parents occurred (this happens with some regularity, unfortunately)

due to the above, an agreement was reached that it would be best for me to move out (don't worry, I wasn't kicked out, this was a decision I fully agreed with and participated in willingly)

over the course of a few weeks I went through the process of apartment hunting, found a spot close to my campus, and packed up and moved

I began my spring semester, taking the largest number of classes I've ever taken at one time before (which I've been having a difficult time dealing with, for various reasons)

I started seeing a chiropractor semi-regularly to hopefully help fix the neck pain I've had since high school

and most recently, I've begun looking into possibly getting a diagnosis for something I've suspected myself of having for a few years now

throughout all of this, I've also been struggling with the same things that I've struggled with for some time, which I've mentioned once or twice here before: consistently low energy levels (both mental and physical energy) and various mental health issues.

real talk for a second: I haven't been able to make myself write anything (besides what I need to write for classes) in months. and I know the main selling point of this blog, and the content most people come here for, is my writing. so since I can't get myself to write anything, and since I don't even have the energy to consistently answer asks on top of that, I've felt like there's no point in even posting anything at all. that feeling has played just as big a part in my inactivity as my busy life has, and I honestly don't know how to fix it.

I could go into further detail, but I'm a rather private person (and I've now revealed more about my personal mental health than I even planned to on this blog) so I'll leave it at that. all of this to say: I've had a lot going on recently, which is why I've taken yet another unexplained and unannounced hiatus.

my midterms have passed now, and I've been in my apartment for over two months, so with my life the most settled it's been since before the holidays last year I finally sat down and wrote out this post to let you all know that I'm okay, still alive, just busy and stressed as always. I hope you're all okay as well, and didn't miss me too terribly while I was away; and if you did, I hope you'll accept some art as an apology gift? I got a new laptop for Christmas and now I'm able to use the drawing software I first learned how to draw digitally on! autodesk sketchbook pro has served me well, but opening up paint tool sai again after all these years felt like coming home :)

(strangely, despite not having any will or motivation to write, I haven't felt the same about art; I'm not drawing every day or anything, but pulling out my tablet and sketching stuff doesn’t feel like a difficult, joyless chore the way writing has recently. if you asked me why that is, I honestly couldn't tell you)

so, yeah! I've got a little bit of art to share, which will be available for my Patreon subscribers' viewing pleasure tomorrow and which will be made public and posted here on April 3rd. I hope you all enjoy them, and I hope we can start brushing the dust of this blog and make it all shiny and new to celebrate it's birthday!

yes, you read that right: today, March 30th, this blog turns two years old! I'm sorry I wasn't able to throw a big party or anything, but I've made a rather special drawing in honor of the occasion, which will also be available on my Patreon tomorrow and posted publicly on April 3rd! it's something that made me particularly happy to make, so I'm excited to let you all see it :)

TL;DR, I've been sort of going through it but I'm back, I'm well, and I missed this blog and you guys while I was gone!

[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’  Chapter 1: A Phone Call

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

Words: 2,272 words

A/N: Hey y’all, I’m back. Here’s the new and improved chapter, because the last one was a but messed up. Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, they mean so much to me. I’ve been having a lot of fun writing this series, and I’m excited for the rest of the series. I’ll probably be posting weekly, so thanks for sticking with me. 

Y/N walked into the office, pep in her step and a huge smile on her face. Dear God, she hoped her parents said yes. Her parents loved Bucky a lot, they always told him every chance they could, but she didn’t know if they would even allow this. She took a deep breath, and looked into the eyes of the administrative assistant at the desk. “Hey Mr. Coulson, how are you this morning?” Y/N asked.

“Y/N, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Phil,” Phil chuckled, “you’re making me feel so old!”

“Sorry Phil,” she replied, “could I call my mom real quick?” Though she had a phone herself, her school’s cell service was absolute crap, and her phone refused to connect to the wifi, bringing her to the office to use the school phone. She usually tried to avoid the office at all costs, but this call meant everything to her. 

“Sure, what for?” This is where she knew it would get tricky. If it was anything besides an injury, illness, or being sent home, the office would not allow her to call home. They were strict like that.

So, without any other choice, she lied. “I’m not feeling too good right now. My head hurts so much, and it's pounding a lot.” She put on her best show of weakness.

Phil frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want any Advil? I think it’ll help your head feel better.” He moved his hand to his desk drawer and started to open it.

“Actually, it’s my head and my stomach. They both don’t feel good. And I hurt my foot. A lot.” She knew she was laying it on thick, but she leaned on her right foot to make it seem as if she couldn’t bear to put pressure on the other. Phil knew something was up, but he only narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“The extension is a one before the area code.” He said, but she was already fake-limping as fast as she could to the room next door. 

“Thanks Phil!” She yelled back. Y/N made it to the door, opened it, and peered inside to make sure the lounge was empty. Once she knew she was in the clear, she rushed to the phone to dial her mom’s work number in. Pressing it to her ear, it ringed a few times, until she heard the static and her mom’s voice.

“Hello there, Mary L/N, how can I help you?” Her mom’s cheery voice made her calm down a bit, but then she remembered her mission.  

“Hey mom, it’s me Y/N” 

“Oh hey sweetie, what’s up?”

Y/N decided to try and get this out fast to lessen the blow. “Y’know Bucky, right?”

Her mom’s chuckle was heard through the phone. “Of course, he’s been your friend since the third grade.”

“And how he’s living with his dad and Becca alone?” Her mom’s hum of agreement prompted her to say her next words. “I was wondering if Bucky and Becca could stay here during quarantine. And, before you say anything, I know that you’re gonna say we don’t have any supplies, but we do! We still have the baby crib for Becca, and Bucky can just stay in my room like normal, and it’ll be like a sleepover. A very long sleepover.” Y/N winced at the awkward phrasing of her last few words.

She could hear her mom’s sigh through the phone, and the thoughts running around in her head. “But, even with all that, and I really hate to bring this up too, what are we gonna do about money? We’ll have to buy resources for not three, but six people.” Y/N’s shoulders slumped at her words, and she exhaled through her nose deeply. 

Suddenly, like a godsend, she got a text from her sister. Thank whatever god is watching over cell phone service to allow them to receive this text, she thought as she read it. 

“Hey mom, Ria just texted, she’s staying with her boyfriend for quarantine.” She was sure her mom could hear the huge smile through her voice, but in the moment she didn’t care. Y/N was desperate for her mom to agree, because she knew that he and his sister wouldn’t be safe. Bucky would always be her priority, even if he didn’t love her back the same way. “Mom, I know that this is huge, but we used to have him over for weeks at a time. This will be the same. If you need me to, I can use all the money that I made over the summer, I can pay for Becca’s food, and the formula, and oh god, what else does a baby need-”

She was abruptly interrupted by her mom. “You will be owing me big time. Your dad is going to murder me.” Y/N grinned widely at her mom's words. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t fucking believe it. Her mom was allowing this. Bucky would be safe. Becca would be safe. “Before you go off running to talk to Buck, I should tell you to tell him that I need to voice a few concerns and rules.”

“Okay mom, thank you so, so much. I appreciate this so much, and I know Bucky and Becca will too. I’m gonna go tell him right now.”

“You’re welcome. God, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Mrs. L/N wasn’t upset about it, no, she was ecstatic to get the Barnes children away from their asshole of a father, but she was going to get to care for them for however long the shelter and place would be going on. “Stop by the Barnes’ house and grab Becca and their things before you get home okay? Unless Mr. Barnes is there, then come straight home and I’ll go with you. You should also leave a note, if you can go inside.”

“You got it, mom. Again, thank you so, so much for this, but I gotta go back to the library to meet Steve and Buck. I love you tons!” Y/N said hurriedly. She was bursting with excitement to get her two favorite people away from their dad, and a month of spending time with her best guy friend that she happened to be in love with just added to it. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. See you after school.” As soon as her mom hung up, she bolted. She didn’t care if Mr. Coulson saw and questioned her, nor did she care that she was shoving people in the halls and being a large disruption. Y/N burst through the doors of the library, eyes scanning around the room for her two friends. She spotted Steve talking to the librarian, probably about another spelling error he found in the book he was reading. Another time, she would have made fun of him for it, but she marched straight up to him with a determined look.

“Where’s Buck?” She asked. Y/N must have looked slightly insane and menacing with her windswept hair and slightly ruffled shirt, because her tall blond friend looked downright terrified of her. With wide eyes, he pointed to a couch where Bucky sat with his headphones in and watched a video on a school laptop. She nodded towards Steve in thanks, and dashed off to Bucky. As she approached him, she tried to also figure out the best way to say this. Oh god, what if he’s mad? I didn’t ask if this was okay with him.

The shadow that fell over Bucky gave him the notice that someone was near. His blue eyes looked up and met her gaze. “Hey doll.” He took one more glance at her appearance (not like he didn’t stare at her regularly), and asked, “Did you happen to get caught in a tornado in your hurry to your destination?” They both chuckled, but he could also feel the nervousness and excitement radiating off her. “In all seriousness, what’s up?”

She opened her mouth then closed it. “I need to talk to you. Just you and me. Even though, if you agree to this, the rest of the gang’s gonna find out anyway.”

“Now I’m a little scared, what's happening?”

She took a deep breath.”Well, after you mentioned it earlier, I was reminded that during quarantine, you’d be staying with your dad alone.” Y/N knew it was a little difficult for Bucky to talk about his family, so she decided to break it down slowly to him, even though her nerves were rattling. “And I hate the idea of you and baby Becca staying there, because… y’know.” He nodded his head in understanding, and you got the courage to continue. “Well, I talked to my mom, and she said that you could stay with us. For the quarantine. As long as you need. We love you so much Buck, and so if you wanna, you can stay with us.”

Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, in shock, but soon enough they started to get glassy. God, he couldn’t believe that she would think of him for over break. Y/N was the most selfless and caring person he knew, and he was just in awe of her. He stood up and grasped the girl for a tight hug. His face hid in the crook of her neck, because he was trying so hard not to let anyone see his tears, but he was having trouble controlling the sobs that wracked his body. Thank God they were in the corner of the library with the couches, so no one could see him. Y/N’s hands ran soothingly up his back, and it stayed that way for a few minutes until Bucky finally looked back up at her. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “I would throw myself in front of a moving car for you Buck, okay? Never tell Tasha, but you’re my best friend. I’ll love you forever.” Her arms tightened around his waist again, and his heart was filled with relief and love. “After school we’ll swing by your house and if your father’s not home we’ll grab Becca, your stuff, leave a note for your dad, and go to my place, sound good?”

His heartbeat immediately increased its rate. And there’s the panic. “But what if he is home, Y/N? I don’t wanna leave Becca by herself for any longer than she has to be. And do you have any baby stuff? Or food? She has to have formula, and her food needs to be in this weird food processor thing, I don’t know what it’s called, and oh god-”

“Bucky!” She cut him off with a giggle and a hand over his mouth, which he would’ve probably found hot, had he not been freaking out. “Me and Ria were once babies, we have stuff to take care of Becca. My mom knows all the products she uses, and we have the crib from the last time you came over. And if your dad is home, then we’ll just take Becca with us to my house and have my mom drive us back to yours to get your stuff, so she’ll know we’re okay. We’ll be okay James.” Y/N stared at him dead in the eye, so he knew she was serious. She never, ever used his first name unless she was being earnest. 

He nodded. “We’ll be okay Y/N.” He released her from the hug, not wanting to make it awkward, but he regretted it, as he loved holding her in his arms. Looking to his left, he could see Steve bounding over to them.

“Ms. Moore said I need to stop talking to her about the typos and mistakes in the books, it’s like she’s completely unaffected by the flaws!” He exclaimed, but then he noticed the tears still resting on Bucky’s cheeks. “Hey Buck, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just Y/N offered to let me and Becca stay at her house for quarantine.” He sniffled and wiped the cuff of his sweatshirt against his face, looking to Y/N to find her already looking at him. Her small smile grew a little wider catching his eye, and she motioned toward the couch. 

“Let’s get down to work y’all.” The trio sat down on the small couch, Y/N squished in between the two boys. Bucky placed his headphones back on, resuming the video from before, but not really paying attention. No, he was paying more attention to the girl at his side, resting her head on his shoulder as she typed away on her laptop. She managed to be the only one who completed any actual work during their free periods, but she always kept time open to have fun with her friends as well. Bucky couldn’t help but have his lips quirked up at her, leaning back to relax against the cushions.

He turned his head towards her, and whispered in a barely audible voice, “Thank you Y/N.” She looked up at him with her infamous smile and kissed him on the cheek.

“Anytime, Buck.” She turned back to her computer, plugging her earbuds in and softly humming to her music. Her head moved to his chest, and Bucky prayed that she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was thumping, filled with adoration and love. God, how he would love this girl for the rest of his life.

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @queenemori (she/hers)

what are you working on right now? I recently started posting We Don’t Need To Say It, which is a multi-chap Memori actor AU. It’s a slow burn, don’t ask me how I looked at Murphy and Emori and decided to write a slow burn, but it’s what’s happening. I really do mean slow, the chapter I just finished writing is only the beginning of the angst, you’ve been warned. My beta tells me she hates me at least once a chapter if you want an idea of how angsty this is gonna get. I started out writing for Bellarke in this fandom, and I’ll be going back to that later this summer. Anyone who follows me knows I’m obsessed with Emma, and I have an Emma Bellarke AU that’s in the outlining stages currently. I’m hoping to work on it more once I get further into this Memori fic.

what’s something you’d like to write one day? The fic I’m working on now is actually the thing that I was like, “I want to write that one day”. I love actor AUs and I wanted to write one for some fandom at some point, and in January I got this idea, but I was working on other stuff, so I was like, well maybe I’ll write it this summer. And now I am! Though I would like to write something featuring dad!Murphy in the near future.

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? It’s actually one I haven’t published yet! I participated in Bellarke Big Bang this year, and I wrote a soulmates rom-com fic. I’m excited to share it soon once we get the go-ahead, and the artist I got to work with @clarkeindra has made some amazing art to go with it! For ones that you can actually go physically read, I will say You’re Already Breaking My Heart. It was my first fic I wrote for t100 fandom, and also the first thing I wrote after a really long time of just not writing anything, so I’m proud of it for getting me back into something I love and I’m glad that other people seemed to enjoy it. It’s what got me more into this fandom in the first place and how I made some of my first friends.

why did you first start writing fic? I got more into writing around the time I started college, though I always used to write little stories. There were a few times I almost wrote fanfic before then, like the time I almost wrote a Glee fic in ninth grade, or the time my junior year of high school where I almost wrote a Downton Abbey fic where Sybil and Branson were pen pals while Sybil was on her nurses course in season 2. But the summer before college, I wanted to write, and didn’t have any ideas for characters, but I had just read a really amazing next-gen Harry Potter fic called “Potters, Weasleys, and Misguided Snogging” which made me ship Scorpius Malfoy and Lily Luna Potter, or Scorily. So I started writing a couple stories specifically for that ship, back when I still used FF.net. It was just a one-shot and a multi-chap I never finished, but it was fun to interact with people and get to hear what they liked about the story and that they hoped I continued it, so I guess I caught the fic writing bug then.

what frustrates you most about fic writing? I wish people would leave more kudos. I’ve had this discussion with some friends before where they’re like, “What makes you leave kudos on a fic?” and I leave kudos on most fics I read, so it’s very interesting to hear people say they don’t do that as liberally as I do. If I made it to the end of the story, I’m probably going to leave kudos. The writer kept me engaged long enough to get to the end, which I think is worthy of showing some sort of support, even if I don’t leave a comment. Though I am trying to get better about leaving comments more often. Kudos are a very low stakes way to show you like a story that someone put out. Afraid to comment, but want to show the author you enjoyed reading? Leave kudos. A couple of stories I have out have gotten a fair amount of hits, but the amount of kudos in comparison to the amount of people who have probably opened it is a little disheartening. I’ve also heard people say they don’t want to leave kudos on stories that have been out for a while, but I love to get kudos on my old work! It’s fun to see that people are still reading things I put out in like 2017 or even just last year. Kudos brighten my day just as much as comments do sometimes, especially when I know not everyone feels comfortable leaving a comment!

what are your top five songs right now? The answer to this is 98% always related to what I’m listening to when I’m working on a certain writing project lol.

Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex Heartbreak Weather by Niall Horan I Will Follow You into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie Bye-Bye Darling by Borns Fire for You by Cannons

what are your inspirations? Red, White & Royal Blue, since I read that recently. It honestly just made me want to write a movie, and I kind of hope that whatever TV or movie adaptation it ends up getting in the future I’m able to work on. I want to be a screenwriter, so I tend to get inspired by TV a lot. The Mindy Project, Insecure, and even Never Have I Ever are big inspirations for me. Or more like, anything that Issa Rae or Mindy Kaling are involved in, to be honest. I write a lot of modern AUs, so just anything that shows good relationship progression or has fun with mundane, everyday situations.

what first attracted you to Memori? what attracts you now? So fun fact, I stopped watching the show for a bit. I binged basically two seasons in a weekend while visiting a friend in like 2017, and I enjoyed it, but I wasn’t obsessed? Then I started s3 and a bunch of characters were getting on my nerves so I put it down for a while. Then I was on Tumblr at the beginning of 2019 and saw a gifset from 3x05 of Murphy and Emori kissing and I was kind of like, “That guy’s still alive? And he has a girlfriend?” So I started watching again, legit only because I was shook Murphy had survived lol. So the thing that first attracted me to them was just the fact that they were a couple at all, I guess. I’d say now that I’ve rewatched the show and seen their relationship develop, I love that these are two people who have always had to fend for themselves and kind of had that “me against the world” mentality. And then they find this other person that cares about them and wants to take care of them, and life becomes a lot less lonely. Also now we get to see their relationship after years together, so they’re very domestic, which adds this lovely sense of normalcy on this post-apocalyptic sci-fi show that I absolutely adore. Their interactions especially in s7 just read as a married couple who are very comfortable with each other, but still incredibly devoted to one another and in love.

Besides Memori, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? For ships, I also really like Bellarke. When I was more casually watching the first time around, I didn’t have much of an opinion on them/didn’t really ship it until season 4, but ever since then I’ve been on board. It’s very clear I’m a huge Memori person, but I do ship Murven, though mainly in AU settings. And Memoraven are my OT3!! My other fave character is Bellamy. And I feel like Gabriel has also quickly become a favorite for me. It’s definitely a mixture of his confused, but obsessed with science vibe on the show and the fact that he has been very fun to write in my actor AU when he makes appearances every so often.

why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? Ever since I’ve been home due to the pandemic, writing has kind of been my escape. Weirdly enough, I’ve written so much (both fic and some real life stuff), even though I’m still working and everything like that. And when the BLM movement was getting a lot of traction specifically in our fandom spaces, I was immediately skeptical of people’s intentions because as a Black person in America specifically I’ve seen this happen before where all the attention is on this issue for a couple weeks and then everyone goes back to posting what they normally post about. And I guess this time things are a bit different, but the thing that began to frustrate me was seeing people shame others for saying they were going to watch the next episode of the show or for working on their fanfic. Fandom spaces have been my biggest escape from the news since March and while I was glad people were focusing on this sort of thing, I kind of hated the way people were making it out to be like this was a new issue when in reality it’s just my life. When I close my laptop and go out into the world, I’m still Black. I had considered opening my ask box up for prompts in exchange for someone donating to a bail fund or something like that, especially since I had just reached a follower milestone, but when I saw that Sam was organizing this and it was going to be an ongoing thing rather than just for a certain period of time, it was heartening to see someone realizing that this isn’t something we can just stop talking about even when the media moves on. The structure of these prompts makes it so that a person has to do a bit of research on BLM and educate themselves or confront the issue in a way they might not have had to before. And it gives me a chance to write things like my fluffy Memori wedding fic ! It’s a way to have my little fandom escape and also stay aware of what’s going on in the real world.

what’s your writing process like (esp for prompts, chopped!, etc)? I LOVE outlines! The Virgo in me loves to talk about my fic outlining process lol. With some short one-shots, I tend to just go in with a sentence or concept that I write at the top of the document and just write and see where that takes me. I also put at the top of the document all the things I want to tag it as when I go to post to AO3, so I don’t have to spend too much time thinking of those when it’s time to post. With multi-chap fics, I first make an ideas dump document which is just me typing out a bunch of thoughts, things like who’s in it, the premise, stuff like that. My actor AU has three preliminary documents: My ideas dump, the actual outline, and then the outline for what happens on each season of the TV show the characters are all on, since I reference those plot points a lot. For things like Chopped or prompts I receive, I do a mixture of the outline/ideas dump in one document. I put at the top all the information I received (so with prompts I tend to just copy/paste the ask from my inbox, and for Chopped the different tropes and theme), then think about what characters I want to use if it wasn’t specified, then kind of do bullet points on what happens in the story. These have all been really helpful in terms of keeping me on track, but I make sure to remind myself that things can change as I write and take a different direction than I expected. So my outlines are constantly changing, but the general idea is already written somewhere so I don’t get too stuck.

what are your thoughts on dad!murphy? The concept of dad!Murphy has really been living rent-free in my brain since before the beginning of season 7. I just kind of love the idea of Murphy (who is a character at first glance I feel like people don’t picture as much of a father figure) kind of falling into being a dad in an unexpected way, and then realizing how much he loves it. It’s just such a sweet thought, and I talked about it so much with some of my friends, that we started a Dad!Murphy Enthusiast Club server on discord (we’re always accepting members so DM me if you’d like to join us!). We just kind of talk about our dad!Murphy headcanons, share fics featuring dad!Murphy, and then get excited when people make new dad!Murphy content. It’s a fun time and though I am a very large Memori, I’m a multi-shipper at heart, and Murphy is one of those characters that I find easy to ship with a lot of people, so we love dad!Murphy in all forms!

what are some things you’d like to recommend?  This is a mix of Bellarke and Memori stuff, since that’s what I mainly read.

Literally everything @mobi-on-a-mission writes, but if I must get specific, then Revive and The Cockroach. 

Almost Paradise (We’re Knocking On Heaven’s Door)  by @nakey-cats-take-bathsss , 13 hours by Kats_watermelon, feat. by Debate, and of course, my comfort fic so i sing a song of love  by twilightstargazer.

The best place to find @queenemori is here on Tumblr. You can find her ao3 here. Request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm.

[humanemotionssuck]

Hello 2021

January 2, 2021

I should’ve put these thoughts into words on the first day of the year but then again, I felt so lazy given this bed weather we are currently having. By far, I think I experienced the coldest temperature here in my hometown (21 degrees baby) and I’m sure not liking it as I prefer warm days.

I actually do not know how to start. I feel it’s necessary to check on how I am doing lately. Write the things I experienced last year and reflect on the lessons it taught me.

I could probably kick things off by remembering how 2020 started for me. I have a bad memory but I’ll try my best to recall them.

January

Broke up with J (yes this is probably one of the major and heartbreaking events happened to me). To sum it up, I realized that the relationship does not have growth anymore, and I am slowly drifting to follow my own path, which is to focus on the plans I want. I haven’t thought deeply the lessons I learned in my past relationship yet but one thing is for sure, I changed and I want to explore more of what I can do or what I’m missing out in life. Which brings me to attend seminars on how to work/study abroad. I attended a couple (e.g Fortrust Makati) and I also realized how costly it will be and I’m probably not yet ready esp. on the financial aspect.

February – March

Highlight on these months was I got back to dating apps again. I know it was a complete dick move. I haven’t moved on yet and here I am in the pool again. I met 2 guys from this app, Coffee Meets Bagel (which btw I uninstalled few months after). The first guy was the introvert but funny type and also VERY sexual. I got along with it, tried to do the deed but failed cause the guy hasn’t moved on from the ex yet. (Sucks right). And so I met this second guy and he is decent but we really had completely different personality. I believe this guy is also rich (he came from a Chinese family and I went to his house and saw the maid and his stuff). Can you also believe he already introduced me to his mom (no dad cause broken family), uncle and grandma. Pressured si ate gurl syempre cause it was really too early to do that step since we’re just dating but March was the most difficult month because…

START OF LOCKDOWN. PH was in state of panic after the government announced a nationwide lockdown due to increased COVID-19 transmission. I immediately went on a bus to the province fearing to get stuck in Manila.

April

Nah this was just a typical month. Summer vibes all over but since we cannot go to the beach we just setup an inflatable pool in the house to get soaked. I finally posted a pic wearing a swimsuit again. My stagnant IG feed came to life lmao

May

Oh boy. This month sucks so much. I got typhoid fever. Which I thought was COVID already cause my fever just won’t stop. My mom didn’t want me to get admitted in the hospital in the fear of being infected so I was hooked in the IV here in the house. I felt I was dying. I was in huge pain both physically and mentally. Which forced me to end any communication means with the second guy. He was not there when I was sick. I didn’t feel his concern even if we’re miles apart and I felt I was begging for his attention. It just won’t work. He blocked me in his socials (which is a first for me, usually I am the one who blocks lol) but given the current state I have now, I learned to accept it and chose to move forward.

June

Explored options on work/study program abroad. We got a new car (Xpander) which my father was able to purchase after borrowing money from us. That money could’ve been used for my Japan trip on December (plot twist it was cancelled due to fucking corona) but it’s okay I guess I’ll save another again.

I also got my student permit (yes I learned how to drive months after hehe)

July

THIS WAS MY BIGGEST DOWNFALL FOR THIS YEAR. There were some modifications in the quarantine and so my employer required and FORCED us to report on site in Makati despite of high number of positive cases. All I can say is SCREW THEM and I hope karma will do its thing on their business. The management.. the bosses.. they are all inconsiderate fucks for not allowing me to work at home instead. The situation forced me to resign but they chose to terminate me instead. The unemployment took its toll on my mental health, it caused me great depression and anxiety which forced me to look for distractions.. anything that will ease my mind.

Oh and btw, I bought my first laptop from hard earned money. Oh boy, it was satisfying to give myself the things my parents couldn’t afford that time I was still in school. It’s a gaming laptop and the one I’m using to type now. I absolutely love it and I used it to find online jobs later on..

I read Looking for Alaska by John Green again after watching the TV series on Hulu. Geez, this has to be my favorite book so far. The seeking of great perhaps.. which was very timely on my mood while having nothing else to do.

Lastly, TAYLOR SWIFT RELEASED A NEW ALBUM CALLED FOLKLORE. In the middle pandemic? Awesome right and this album kept me sane during this crazy and miserable month. Oh and on December, she released folklore’s sister album.. Evermore. Miss Swift saved me again with her music. This will definitely be one of the albums I will play when I’m old and gray knitting sweaters and wearing cardigan.

August

I started and finished my driving lesson in manual. JFC, I realized driving gives me a huge anxiety. One thing is for sure, I will prefer to drive automatic. Not driving that shit again.

I was still hooked with Looking for Alaska. Also purchased Subtle Art of not Giving a F*ck on the time I bought LFA.

On the other hand, I was also actively looking for new jobs this time.

September

ON SEPT. 30 I GOT HIRED! I was super happy to start on a new job. It gave me hope once again to continue on this journey called life. After almost 3 months, we are def back to business!

I also got the chance to get this Thyroid issue checked. Unfortunately, there was no major stuff going on with my thyroid. Basically, I’m perfectly healthy. What sucks is that the doctor invalidated my previous condition and said I only have ~anxiety which is the cause of my symptoms (excessive sweating and palpitations). I will seek professional help on this anxiety stuff anytime in the future.

Lastly, I played Grand Chase again and met someone in the game. Well technically we haven’t met yet but since then, I got used to talking with this guy and he is part of my daily routine now. I won’t spoil much details but as soon as this is all over, I can’t wait to meet this person :)

*cue Grand Chase soundtrack*

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VoK0bAjsHoo

October

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEE! It was a typical birthday. I don’t have much realizations. If I had one, I need to think thoroughly again lol.

Busy with training on the new job and this has been the most challenging training I ever had since I started working.

NOVEMBER

WORK WORK WORK. Super stressed and my anxiety was on the roof. I thought of giving up already but then again it was too early to quit. I haven’t seen my full potential on this job yet and so I chose to keep on fighting.

I also finally got braces. Let’s get these smiles fixed.

December

WORK WORK WORK AGAIN. My work caused me a huge anxiety cause I was given high priority cases -.-But overall, I can say the holidays went great. I finally got to spend time with the family outside. Don’t worry cause we still practiced precautions and I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go out once in a while to have some fresh air. We went to the beach and pretty much that’s the highlight of this month.

Things are getting serious with this guy I’m talking about.. Seriously, he makes me happy every single day.

I also won in Christmas raffle. Oppo phone. (I have the odds in my favor when it comes to raffles lol)

Feels weird to celebrate this holiday too thinking a lot of hardships were experienced in the last few months of quarantine. I was thinking about all the lives lost by covid and hoping they are in the peaceful place now..

JANUARY (NOW)

After everything that happened, oddly the start of the year gives me a sense of hope. Sure I am still carrying the trauma 2020 gave me but I am slowly leaving all of them behind. I want a fresh start and I want to let go of the things that gave me pain. I don’t have solid resolutions just like in my teenage years. Guess I’m too old for that. Not saying it’s okay to not have plans for the future and just go with the flow but I promise to not be too hard on myself and to not pressure myself on the goals I haven’t achieved yet. It’s really a struggle to plan things ahead given the situation but as always, I will do my best. I will stop comparing my progress to somebody else’s cause everyone has their own timeline.

I will listen to my heart and my mind to determine the things I really want. I promise to reevaluate the decisions I am making each day. I will not be afraid of making mistakes because that’s how I learn.

I am embracing my anxiety of uncertainty. It’s okay to feel afraid because I am always trying on how to overcome my fear. I strive each day because I am more than just a ball of anxiety. The palpitations.. the sweating.. they don’t define me. I have the power to control them and they won’t stop me from being the better version of myself.

[ooachilliaoo]

Love Yourself Challenge

I was tagged by two amazing lovelies @rpgwarrior4824 and @pip-n-flinx – Thanks for thinking of me you guys!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc. ) and link them below  to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Because of my weird non-chronological way of writing I haven’t actually posted 5 things this year (even if you take ‘this year’ to mean since April 19) so I’m going to include some WIP’s here if that’s ok.  

1.       Time Effect Coda Fandom: Mass Effect/ Dr Who Pairings: Shepard/Kaidan Alenko & Rose/Ten.

So, this went up yesterday and damn I have been dying to share it. Don’t get me wrong I love ‘Time Effect’ and when I started, Time Effect was just going to be a happy little adventure where Commander Shepard met the Tenth Doctor and chaos happened. (If anyone is interested, I chose Ten because I personally found his particular cadence easier to write). Then my brain went ‘hey hold up just ….HOLD UP a minute. What if we made it PAINFUL?’ and ‘Coda’ was born (though credit for the title should rightfully go to my amazing editor @faith-less-one).

This one has a lot of my personal headcannons for events that happened after the Reaper war wrapped up in it which I loved laying down on paper. The Rannoch section came to me really easily, so that was joy to write. In contrast the scene on Tuchanka took so damn long and had so many iterations I honestly lost count of how many times I started over but when it was done I was SO HAPPY with the result.

2.       Promises

Fandom: Dragon Age Origins.   Pairings: Alistiar Theirin / Elissa Cousland. 

I honestly can’t remember how long I had chapter one and two of this laid down. It was definitely years maybe something as long as like…3 years? I always knew ultimately where it was going but then like DAI happened and all my Dragon Age energy went into DAI fic for a time. 

I think I actually rediscovered it when I was moving files onto my new laptop and it had been long enough that my brain was like ‘this is good’ rather than seeing like…all the mistakes? So I knuckled down. I remember though I was writing the end and I knew I’d planned to do the wedding a-la Elizabeth Swan and Will Turner but somehow when I got there the tone didn’t feel quite right. So I messaged my wonderful editor and best of friends @faith-less-one like ‘you’ve read chapters one and two of this? Should I include a Pirates of the Caribbean wedding at the end?’ and she dead ass responded, ‘honey if the opportunity for a Pirates of the Caribbean wedding presents itself you put in a Pirates of the Caribbean wedding’. So I did, because I had to, clearly.

3.       Memories Fandom: Mass Effect Characters: Liara T’Soni

Look, I’m never going to write anything better for N7 day than ‘Tough Kid’ it’s just not going to happen and I can accept that. But this? This came pretty close. Once again this contains some more of my long-held post war headcannons and it was nice to write from Liara’s perspective for once. I think this one was inspired by a post or a tweet or something that pointed out that due to the lifespan differences and ages eventually Liara and Grunt would be the only surviving members of the Normandy crew. So, I took a shot at what that might look like. 

4.       Untitled Mass Effect Longfic – hit 160K 

Fandom: Mass Effect Pairings: Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

This thing. This thing doesn’t even have an official title. But I’ll tell you what it does have - over 160K words making it the longest thing I’ve ever written.  I’ve been working on it for years - no I am not going to say how many, and it’s probably not even half way done. It’s basically a re-telling of the main storyline with a little post-war fix it tacked onto the end. It might one day be finished and see the light of day or I might end up working on it and reworking it forever.

It’s big. It’s messy and because I don’t write chronologically I need a whole ass indexed excel sheet to track what parts I’d coved already. It definitely contains some of my best writing and probably some of my worst. 160K leaves room for a lot. But hitting 160K felt good. 

5.       Untitled Robin Hood DAO AU. 

Fandom: Dragon Age Origins.   Pairings: Alistair Theirin / Elissa Cousland.

So, this was an idea I’d had for I don’t know how long. I know it happened because the BBC Robin Hood series starring Jonas Armstrong was on Amazon Prime at the same time as I was replaying DAO and my brain just went ‘what the hell’. But god knows how long it sat on the shelf as a vague idea before I even started it. The basic idea was that this would be an AU where Alistair grew up as landed nobility (still the kings’ bastard but a titled bastard). Then when he returns from an exalted march to a Ferelden ruled by Logain he basically …becomes Robin Hood.

I actually started it during NaNo. To be clear I hadn’t planned to write it during NaNo. I have a few ‘longfic WIP’s’ as a I call them and rarely the attention span to write just one of them every day for a month so usually I flip between them  (yes, I know this makes me a NaNo rebel but in my defence …shhhh). In September I work at getting all my longfics to a level word count (to make tracking the 1,667 per day easier) so I had 2 ME longfics and 2 DA longfics at precise word counts at the start of NaNo.

Then what did I do?

I started this AU instead. 15K of this AU laid down in NaNo and it’s just a joy to write. It’s got limitless capacity for banter and snark and I love writing banter and snark. I also like crafting an Alistair that’s not a million miles from DAO Alistair but changed slightly by growing up with responsibility and family.

So yeah that’s some of the stuff I’m proud of from this year.

I’ll Tag: @faith-less-one @poweredbycoffeeandwine @ljandersen @hawkeykirsah @alyssalenko @natsora & anyone else who wants to! (No obligation of course and also sorry if any of you have already done this and i missed it!)

[letterstodaphne]

Dear Daphne, 

It’s been a while since I wrote actual letters, but it's just so much easier to write on laptop. Of course it will be in your liking to know that the aesthetics still remain simple yet elegant, I won't ever to anything different. 

Anyways, the whole world is going insane right now and you probably would go just as mad as me watching the blatant lies and incorrect or non-verified “scientific” studies (more like methodically wrong simulations) Mr. Shorty tries to sell as the only truth, he received from his “experts” whose names he won't tell. Your best friend from the 2008 epidemic is now back on top as Germanys apparent only intelligence. Whereas back then it was Tamiflu which promised to reduce a severe development it’s now Remdesivir. You know, rewatching the news back then and comparing them with now.. it’s pretty similar but yet slightly different. 

Whereas back then almost nobody did publish actual numbers or countings, now they escalate with daily updates and drive people insane. Watching people denounce and insult each other for months becomes tiring. At the same time I get really annoyed about the fact that everyone who does offer critique - which is essential in a scientific discourse - became ridiculed or mouthdead instantly. Everyone who offered critique was entitled as a conspiracist or stupid, no matter if they were right or wrong.

Not to forget the audacity to cut off our essential rights for a month. Like I really mean the most basic of the basic rights to p.e. going for a walk in the local gardens. I mean we both would definitely still go to Schönbrunn for a walk and just pay the fee. 

By the way, you’d be so proud of me. I got straight A’s in basic and advanced statistics.. even though multivariate are killing me. Still, I actually know what scientists are talking about when showing their ‘exponential’ graphs. And when even I (with profs approval) see mayor errors in the stats, it really was badly made. But why not, it’s just so easy to follow the truth one makes up themself. 

I won’t ever forget how Shorty threatened the country with about more than 250k deaths, because his “experts” did bad maths. They seriously calculated 8mio*0.37 instead of 0,0037. The 0.37% were in percent and they literally just forgot to convert. You’d like to know of the 0,37%? It’s from Hendricks field study of one city which was exposed to a super spreading event and the majority got infected. Of course I am aware that this study has flaws. But nevertheless they could actually test households and 60% of the cities population about the virus’ behaviour. But you know I am way too lazy to recount all results. The most important part in my opinion was the newly calculated lethality between ca. 0,37% (+/-0,1%) - compared to sessional Influenza which has a lethality between 0,2-0,4%. And I know of course that wE HaVe A VacCiNe against influenza. Nevertheless only 8% of the whole austrian population got this vaccine so stfu, it makes more sense to compare both stems in this regard than with any other. And the other important conclusion was, that the number of non recorded infections may be way higher than calculated. Which is good, means that the actual lethality may be even lower. Today 25% of the persons who got tested are without any symptoms, but you know they only test ~9k ppl a day. So the thesis of a higher dark number is really plausible. 

People really love to put words into my mouth I’ve never said, whereas I only state that some measurements actually endanger the (mental, financial, etc.) wellbeing of others more than the virus. Does it sound cruel? I hate it here. 

Evil Duffy is helping out at her local suicide hotline and she told me about the significant increased calls she’s receiving. Meanwhile stuff got better, but between March-May it apparently was really bad. By the way Duffy is doing pretty good, she quit her gang and it was the best to happen to her. She’s flourishing. I love it. Don’t be jealous, we still are just friendly enemies.

Well in case you’re wondering about the recent happenings here, it’s almost as if nothing really happened. Except that the clubs are officially closed but parties won't ever stop, will they? Martin got caught in April and had to pay a 5k fee. 5k are for him like?? nothing. Of course rich people are not really affected by rules. And no, I hate him although I had to visit them since Ivana is pregnant. No one ever would’ve thought that her tiny body is once again 6months into pregnancy. 

Travelling became tiresome and troublesome. But it’s getting better in Europe. I wonder when intercontinental flights will be regular again. After my last BKK I gave up my LR license. I don’t care if I won't be able to redo the license anytime soon, this was pure torture. They literally imprisoned us for 6 days in the hotel room. No room card. No balcony. No fresh air. Only room service and bad wifi. I am not one to complain so easily about work but this was beyond my comfort zone. For my sorry ass it’s only short range all the way. I’ll gladly do every nightlight of SS4. Still better than the regional fleet, Bless their poor souls. And about the service I don't want to talk. It’s trash.

Yeah work is pretty bad, we’re actually just waiting when the company will begin to fire us. But since we’re on shortwork they are legally not allowed to to so, yet.

My studies are going badly as well, I couldn’t find the interest in anything lately. I just finished the i.p. seminars and wrote the respective scientific papers, but that's it. Only 15ects, a shame. Well.. two gradings are still not finished yet but I am sure I passed anyways. 

Seems like I was mostly venting and complaining about my recent life, but you know.. I am so mad at everything. Maybe I should start fencing once again.

I promise the next letter will be kinder,

en garde! 

[cilliansaccent]

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 4

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!! 

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 5,000

!!Warnings!!: It's getting hot here! Some decent smut at the end, starts after they are in bed together. Enjoy *winks*. 

Date: March 2016

Chapter Name: The Shelby Clan

Brief Chapter Outline: First day being the apprentice as a Peaky Designer, Gabrijela meets the cast and the crew in a jam-packed day, while also making some friends. She ends up staying in Cillian's trailer on set with some red wine that will question their actions later...

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

The drive towards Manchester was quite pleasant, the roads were empty in the morning so the run was smooth. 

Gabrijela had packed her laptop and documents last night as she knew she wouldn't have much time to pack in the morning. And it was true. 

Five minutes past five, Allison was at the door, ringing the bell. Gabrijela had rushed down after she had changed into high-waist blue jeans, a black turtle neck tucked in and a light brown coat on top and her favourite Doc Martins. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun with a cream coloured scrunchie. 

She wore a gold chain with a small gold cross, her mother gave it to her for good luck and protection despite Gabrijela not really that of a holy person. 

They didn't stop, only for a toilet break and to grab a snack bar but it was right through to the cit up north. 

They arrived at the destination just before eleven. It was pretty full-on once they came, "Today is the only exception where I will drive you here. You'll have to catch the train here, and I may or may not be able to drive you back." Allison had explained as they headed in where they would dress the actors up. 

But first stop, Gabrijela was to be introduced to the team, the producers and all that. While she was taken away, Allison headed off to ready the actors and actresses. 

Gabrijela was informed in the meeting of her secrecy of the plot and the ideas of Season three. But they made sure to not spook her too much. She was given the lay down of the rules and regulations, but overall, she was kind of free to roam long as she told someone where she was going. 

The crew was quite nice, and once of the assistance people took her on a trip around. 

Logan, a tall, handsome man with such deep ocean blue eyes and thick black curly hair. He was dressed in a casual suit, round gold glasses sat on his straight nose and he had a boyish smile. He was turning twenty-seven in a week. 

"Got anything planned for the birthday?" She asked as they came outside to where men and women moved stuff around or put things together. 

"Uh, not really. Probably go to a pub around here for some drinks and cake with my mates." He said with a shrug and a shy smile. 

"Will your parents come?" She asked. He had told her he was from Scotland, as per his accent told her already before he could tell her. 

"Oh no, no. They can't afford it, but I will make it up for Pa's fifty-eighth birthday next month." He said, his smile bright, making the corners of his eyes to crinkle. 

"Oh, that's good. How long have you been working here?" She asked, curious about his line of work. 

"Since season one. I worked in various jobs before and throughout, gaining as much knowledge and experience possible. You need a lot of experience as a Set Designer, and I pushed myself to be the very best and somehow caught the eyes of the Director." He explained as they headed back inside. 

"So cool." She whispered, "Is the job stressful?" 

"Can be. You need to be thorough, and to know what needs to go where, when and how. Today we will be setting up the opening scene, could be changed entirely tomorrow if it doesn't flow. I gotta be on my feet at all times, but I love it. The creativity that brings about in me as if some flood gate exploded open." He said with such passion. 

She giggled softly and they continued to walk around before he was called back to start on the set. 

They bid farewell and she headed to where Allison said she was and directed. 

She entered the large trailer and she had stopped in her tracks at what she saw. 

The actors were all crammed in, well, most of them, mostly the men where. The director was there to listen in on what Allison was talking about. 

Gabrijela couldn't move. She felt like a deer in headlights, her nerves rattling through her. 

She wasn't sure if she was suddenly up for this. This whole thing seemed like a dream and here she was, among the cast and the crew. 

Cillian spotted Gabrijela enter and smiled, "Sorry to interrupt but Gabrijela is here." He said, moving through the boys and came to her. 

"Hey. You alright?" He asked softly, taking her arm gently. 

"Y-Yeah, I think so." She said nodding her head. 

She was swept into introductions and everyone seemed thrilled for her to be here. Cillian stuck to her side since he could tell she was apprehensive. 

And then it was time to get into the business. 

Gabrijela worked with Allison closely, following her orders. She was to help the boys dress into the right outfits and have the next ones on hand when it came to a new scene. 

It was none stop, and hectic. She had spotted Logan every now and then and got peaks of him setting up props and all that. 

But she was brought back to her own area and watched and listened to the other creative artists such as the make up artists and the hairstylists. 

When it was break time in the mid-afternoon, she realised she hadn't made food for herself. And she was to shy to even ask for the on-site food if it was available for her too. 

But she didn't need to fret too much when Cillian, all decked out in his Tommy outfit came over to her. 

"Thought I'd bring you this." He said and handed her a fairly large box. 

"What is it?" The smell that came from it was so good. 

"One of the guys ordered this from some local restaurant near here. Got it for all of us." He said. 

She opened it. It was stirfry noodles, rice, dumplings and spring rolls. 

"Oh, it smells so good!" She said. 

"Yeah. Come on, let's go join the others." He said and she followed him to a different trailer where she could hear voices from within. 

"Cillian. I-I don't know." She paused outside her heart racing. 

"Hey. It's alright, don't be scared." He faced her, "I'm here okay?" 

She sighed and nodded and walked in with him. 

Introductions went around again, and the general questions of herself began via the boys. She ate in between questions and answered them happily. 

She was still shy but she began to open up and feel more at ease. Cillian and Paul got lost in their own conversation and she chatted with Harry for a bit. 

But it wasn't long when lunch was over and it was back to work. 

Evening...

It was time to call it a night. Gabrijela was exhausted after a long, busy day. 

She was in Allison's trailer, finishing up her report of today. 

The door opened and Cillian popped his head in, "Thought I'd find you here." He came in, closing the door behind him. 

"Oh hey." She turned and smiled, "How are you?" 

"Ah, fucking tuckered." He said and sat across from her. He had changed back to his usual outfit of a blue shirt, jacket and jeans. 

"I could imagine. I saw you working hard." She closed her laptop when she saved her document. 

"Yeah. So you staying here or are you heading home?" He asked. 

"Heading back to London." She said, tucking her laptop into her backpack. 

"What? It's almost eight. It'll be too late for you." He frowned, "I've got plenty of room in my trailer-"

"No, it's okay. It'd be to much trouble." She shakes her head, "Besides, I have no other clothing with me. Would look bad if I rocked up again tomorrow in the same shit." 

"Fuck." He cursed softly, "I don't want you to go home alone." 

"Cilly," She murmured his nickname again, she took his hand, "It'll be okay. I'll call you when I get on, we can keep talking right through the trip." 

He held her hand with both his hands, "No. Stay." He insisted. 

She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she sat back. "It would look so weird if I came out of your trailer, Cillian. I don't want to give you a bad representation." She said softly. "Look, thank you for the offer, but I can't be late for the train." She stood, pulling on her backpack. 

"I will be safe," She said and headed to the door. 

"Gabrijela." He went to her and grabbed her, turning her back around. "Please." He shook her arm a little. He was persistent, and he wasn't going to give up. 

She shook her head and sighed. She stepped into his arms and hugged him tightly, "Cillian, don't you stress. I'm a big girl." 

His arms moved around her waist and he hugged her close, "I know. But I worry, and it's late." 

Allison had opened the door and stepped into the trailer, "Gabrijela- Oh!" She gasped. 

The pair hastily pulled back and Gabrijela's cheeks heated. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on..." She trailed off. 

"Just having a heart to heart, Al. Nothing to worry." Cillian wrapped an arm around Gabrijela's shoulder and hugged her a little. 

"Okay, well. I need to drop her off at the station." She said. 

"She can't stay here?" Cillian asked. 

"I mean, she can if she wanted to. Gabrijela?" Allison looked at her. 

"It's only two hours to London, I'll be okay." Gabrijela shook her head. 

"She can stay with me. I can make the dining table into a bed and she can have the main one." Cillian spoke before Gabrijela could. 

"Well, it is up to her, Cillian." Allison said, "Are you worried about something?" Allison added. 

Gabrijela looked between the two and let out a sigh through her nose, "I didn't pack properly. I don't have clean clothing is my main concern." She looked down at her feet. 

God, she was a mess, her mind was going a million miles an hour. 

"That's okay. I got a shirt you could fit for tomorrow, I'll let you off early so you can go back to London to prepare better for the next day." Allison offered, coming over and placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"Are you sure?" She asked, looking up with worrisome eyes. 

"I'm sure. Here." Allison went through her small wardrobe she had in the trailer and handed her a shirt. "This should do. Cillian will take you to his sleeping quarters." She gave Gabrijela an encouraging and caring smile. 

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Gab said and left with Cillian, heading to his trailer. 

"Anytime. I didn't feel comfortable you heading home so late." He held open the door for her to go in. 

She walked in, the trailer was clean and smelled like him. "Such a worrisome boy." She poked him when he walked by. 

"Can't help it. I've heard things and you're..." He trailed off, his brows furrowed a little. 

"I'm... what?" She set her bag on the table. 

"Ah," he huffed, "I'd be kicking myself if you got hurt." He said, eyes darting away from her. 

She saw he wanted to say something but she wasn't going to pressure him in it. "Thank you, Cillian." She stepped to him, touching his cheek and turning his gaze back to her. "Next time, I'll bring an extra set of clothes just in case." She nodded and stepped back from him. 

"Good idea. Now, I have some two-minute noodles and good red wine. Want some?" He asked. 

"Sure. I love me some noodles and red wine." She nodded and removed her back from the table and to the bed at the end of the trailer. It was huge, it could easily fit them both. 

She could offer him to stay in the bed with her, it wouldn't be the first. "Cillian." She called out. 

"Yeah?" He replied, fixing up the noodles and boiling the water. 

"Um... Look... Uh... The bed, it's uh, big. We could um... you know..." She blushed and stuttered a little. 

"What? Is there something wrong?" He came into the room with her, looking at the bed then back to her. 

"No, nothing is wrong with it." She ran a hand through her hair which she had let out. "Oh, god actually- Forget about it. Don't worry." She shook her head quickly. 

"No, tell me. It's fine, darling." The word came out without a second thought and it made things more awkward than anything. 

"U-Uhm, we could share the uh, the bed. You know. We could put a pillow wall between us or something if you like or we could just stick to our sides but that's up to you." She rushed in a single breath. 

"Share a bed? I mean, we can. No issue there." He laughed nervously, "But wouldn't you prefer it all to yourself?" 

"I guess so, but I don't think sleeping on the table thing over there would be too comfortable. Besides, you gotta wake up early so you need a good night's sleep." She said, gulping. 

"That is true." He returned back to the noodles, pouring the hot water in each bowl, "Alright. I'll take up on your offer. But we don't need a pillow wall. It's not the first time." He said with a deep chuckle. 

She blushed madly and sat down in the little booth, "Shut up." She muttered. 

It wasn't long when the noodles were ready and they had popped open a bottle of red. 

"Welcome to the Shelby Clan." Cillian grinned and held up a glass and she did the same and they clinked. 

"Thank you." She said and dug in. 

"So how are you feeling after today?" He asked once they finished eating. 

"Tired. And stressed." She said, "It was so full-on."

"Yeah. But you did a good job, Gab. Dressed me well and the others." He took a sip of his glass. 

"You think so?" She asked. 

"Of course! But don't be so nervous around us eh? We are regular people." He said, "Give it a few day's, you'll be relaxed." 

"Okay. Yeah, it's only the first day." She accepted with a drink of her wine. 

He noticed she was already almost done with her wine, and he was the same. "Here." He refilled their glasses. 

"Oh damn. We drinking tonight, hm?" Gabrijela gave him a playful smirk. 

"We might." He said, "But I might take a shower, or would you like to go first?" He asked. 

"I'll go first." She said, "I'll be quick." She took a sip of her wine and stood up. She could feel a buzz. 

Cillian showed her the shower and she quickly washed up. She had one fresh set of underwear always tucked in her bag, and like the idiot she was, she forgot to bring them in. 

She wrapped the towel around her body and peaked her head out, Cillian wasn't in and she took that chance to get out. She went for her bag and yanked out the high waisted silk garment and began to pull them up. 

Cillian had walked back in after his call and let out a gasp when he saw Gabrijela. The poor girl yelped in fright when he returned and she dropped her towel as she stumbled back from her loss of balance. 

She hit her back on the wall and groaned and let out a soft laugh. 

"Shit. Gab you alright?" He came through the threshold and let out a cry, "Jesus! Sorry!" He covered his eyes and backed up when he saw her naked body. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." She got up and pulled on her underwear. Her jumper and her jeans were back on and she came back out, "Sorry." She was red as ever as she returned to her spot. 

"No, no. Don't be. I didn't mean to spook you." He rubbed his nose, his mind whirling. She didn't just have freckles on her face, but along those lovely full breasts, and the plane of her stomach- 

He let out a choke and rubbed the back of his neck, "Anyway, uh, you'll be sleeping in that?" He looked at her, his body reacting in a way he hadn't felt for a long time. 

"Uh, yeah. I guess so. Why?" She asked she saw that heated look in his eyes. That desire. And her body warmed, she remembered her dreams. 

"I could give you one of my shirts? Would be comfortable than jeans." He said. 

His shirt? Oh, Lord, save her. But she found herself nodding, "I'll give it back." She said. 

He nodded and fetched her a shirt, "Here" He handed her a dark navy blue shirt. 

"Thanks. Did you want a refill?" She nodded to his glass. 

"Uhm... Yeah, why not." He said before he turned and took a quick shower as she refilled his glass, topped hers and got into bed with his shirt on. 

He came out with a white t-shirt and black boxer shorts that had little pineapples. 

"Nice shorts." She laughed softly as she set her phone down and picked up her glass. 

"Thanks. My brother got it for me last Christmas." He laughed as he shut up the trailer and turned off the lights before he returned to the small bedroom, pulling the shutter close. 

"Lovely." She sipped her glass as she watched him get into bed. 

Both of them sat upright, her bedside light was only on. 

"To another day." She said once he got himself comfortable and clinked glasses with him. 

"To another day indeed." He took a good drink of his glass. 

She could feel the buzz started, and she began to talk about a moment in her life which was quite hilarious. 

They chatted about anything, about life, about her school, her friends, family. And she learned of his first lover, and how she broke his heart. 

"So you've been single for five years now?" She asked in shock. She was a little tipsy, as well as Cillian. They did finish a second bottle. 

"Yeah. Haven't found someone yet or have anyone in mind as of now. Dated some but their intentions weren't true. I'm after someone who is... real. Who cares more about personality rather than how much money is in my pocket." He said. 

Cillian was on his side and Gabrijela on her back. 

"Damn. I'm sorry. But you'll find that person, everyone does." She said, looking up at him. The low light brought out the harsh angles of his face, making him look scarily handsome. 

"I hope so. What about you?" He asked. 

"Me? Ah, it's been a year since I broke up with my ex. I was with him for three years." She murmured. 

"Huh. Three? What made it break?" He asked, "Oh, only if you want to answer it." 

"It's okay. He uh... cheated on me, and did the blaming game on me. Convinced me I wasn't giving him any satisfaction when it came to sex. He was fucking this slut for a year without my knowledge. My bestie told me. She saw it happen." She looked away. Since then, she hadn't had sex with anyone or got anywhere close. She had freaked out every time, too ashamed of herself. 

Cillian saw the dread that began to fill her beautiful eyes, the hurt expression shutting her down. 

"Hey." He cupped her cheek, bringing her face closer to his. She could feel his breath on her face, "You deserve the best. You are... such a sweet girl and so genuine. I don't think you should beat yourself over what he said. He's a bastard, a big, fucking bastard to say that to a girl. You would definitely rock the bed." The words fell out before he could stop himself. "Ah, Gabrijela-" 

But she let out a laugh, and couldn't stop. He found her serene laughter to be contagious and was laughing with her too. 

They laughed for a good while and he had his forehead on her shoulder, somehow he was sort of above her, his other arm beside her waist to hold himself up. 

She felt the tickle of his hair brush her neck, "God Cillian, you really don't hold back huh?" She giggled, reaching up to stroke the back his head and neck. 

"It just came out. I mean no offence." He said as he lifted himself up, his hair fell down and brushed her forehead. 

"No offence was taken. But I believe I could rock more than just the bed." She purred, her fingers moving down to his jaw. She traced it slowly. 

"Oh, really?" He asked, his voice dropped a pitch. 

Her skin pricked as her fingers moved to his lips, "Yeah, really." She whispered, their noses touched. 

The moment was burning up slowly, she could feel it. His leg brushed up against hers. 

"Maybe..." He murmured, his eyes shutting a little as his attention was now to her own lips. 

Red, wet and full, so perfect, he thought. Was this the alcohol talking? 

"Maybe what?" She let her fingers move down his chest then across his shoulder. 

"I..." He leaned in more, rubbing his nose against hers. A soft sigh escaped him when her gentle fingers found its way back into his hair. 

"Kiss me." She said, one arm hooked around his neck and drew him into her body. 

He obliged and pressed his lips to hers, the kiss was gentle, tentative. Exploring, find out how they worked together. 

He had moved entirely on top of her, his body almost crushing but she liked it. He had one arm under her head, his soft fingers clasped the back of her neck, his other arm provided support for himself but was under her and under her shirt. She could feel the pads of his hand on the middle of her back. 

Her legs widened to make room for his shifting hips. She could tell he was trying to keep them up but she did feel his arousal. Defined and eager. 

He wanted her, clearly. The kiss became more passionate, more wanting as she opened her mouth for his tongue that swept in with such dominance she let out a moan. 

The arm under her back moved and he was touching her sides, fingers gliding down her thigh then back up. 

She felt a wild confidence sweep through her and she lifted up her hips to meet with his. 

He let out a grunt before he pushed her down roughly. It made her whine with lust. 

"Gabrijela." He groaned as he broke the kiss. His hand moved up, pausing under her breast. 

The air was like a wildfire. 

"Cillian." Her core was throbbing and slick, she wanted him. Needed the reprive after so long. 

She arched her back as if telling him to go higher with that devilish hand she had dreamt of roaming over her body. 

He accepted the offering and his hand engulfed her breast. 

They both let out a moan as if the contact was a blessing to them both, especially to her. 

He played with her breast, rolling the nipple against his palm. His lips returned to hers, swallowing up the blissful moan that came from her. 

She clung to him as if he was her life source, her legs wrapped around his waist as another moan came through her when he pinched her nipple, rolling and tugging it between his fingertips. 

"Cillian," she gasped, breaking the kiss as he kissed to her neck, "Cillian- I- Oh god." 

He let out a muffled groan, his hips driving forward a little. 

"I-I need more- Fuck- Please- Just- Just this once. Touch me. Touch me please." She begged softly. 

He knew what her desperate pleas meant, and he pulled back to look at her. "Gabrijela we shouldn't-" 

"Please." She cupped his face, the light illuminated her eyes, bringing forth the lust and need to be satisfied. 

The shirt was rolled up to expose that lovely soft stomach she had, his eyes going lower. He could just see the wet pool that began between her legs. 

A sound erupted from him and she let out a moan as he removed his hand from her breast. He would not see what treasure was between her legs, it was far too much for him. If he saw her, he wouldn't be just touching her. 

He brought his hand down and slipped it beneath the silk garment. She wasn't shaved but she had recently trimmed. 

He paused, gazing back up her body to her eyes, she was staring at him. 

"Touch me." She whispered in that lovely, delicate voice shaky with such appetite for his hand. 

He brought his fingers to her wet slit and parted her. Her head lolled back, eyes shut. 

"Look at me." His voice was rough, demanding. 

She did, and let out a pathetic whine when he began to feel her, stroke her folds and brush along that bundle of nerves. 

He leaned in and kissed her once, twice, three times with a claiming kind of way. 

She was so wet, drenching his two fingers that tracked her up and down, bringing her clit between them and massaged it. 

"Shit, Cilly." She moaned, a soft cry when he pinched her clit making her hips buck. 

She was a mess, and he could see how she clenched and unclenched the sheets as she stared with intensity at his hand and back at his face.

He continued to pleasure her by playing with her clit, so enamoured of her sweet sounds. Oh, how she became at mercy of him. His cock throbbed, wanting the attention. 

He gave in and pushed a finger into her, his brows furrowed as he moaned at how unbelievably tight she was. 

Her body arched as he inserted a second, and then they were moving in and out of her at a steady pace. 

Her body was warm and she felt sweat starting to form across her bare, exposed skin. He was so skilled, he knew exactly what he was doing with those two fingers that curled, causing a louder cry to come from her. 

Gabrijela could feel her climax rising, and she moaned with pleasure as he picked up the pace, as if he also knew she was going to fall off the edge. 

Cillian watched how her body began to undulate, hips rocking in sync of his thrusting, all perfect. 

"Cillian I-I'm gonna cum, oh god don't stop. Don't stop!"  She hooked an arm around his neck, and he laid close to her, his lips brushing his temple. 

"Cum whenever you want, darling. Cum for me." He whispered hotly against her skin. 

His thumb rubbed her clit, edging her even closer. He could feel her slick walls tightened, her body reaching that high that was about to crash around her. 

And with some rougher fingering her of her sweet, wet hole, which she could hear the slick sounds, her body bucked violently off the bed as she let out a loud cry of ecstasy as her climax tore down her spine. 

Her walls clenched and she came over his fingers, his name a prayer on her lips. The ecstasy of her climax was a reprive, it quenched her thirst for some sort of satisfaction she was deprived of the past few months. 

Especially from another man. 

Cillian fingered her till she was still and panting on the bed, a thin sheen of sweat coated her forehead. 

The air was hot, and not just the temperature. Whatever had now unlocked between them. 

This... dangerous thing that sat between them. What just happened, he knew it wasn't just the alcohol aiding him. Or her. 

She had her eyes shut, she felt his hand retreat from between her legs and his moved off the bed, a soft grunt coming from him. 

She waited until he left to go to the bathroom, and she knew why he did that. 

She pulled down her shirt, sniffling a little as she rolled to her side. She was in shock of what happened, what he just did to her body. But she didn't feel violated, she wanted this. And for a long time, she needed someone to give her a good finger fuck. 

But fear pooled in her stomach, she didn't think it would be Cillian. A man who was twice her fucking age. 

What the fucking hell was she doing? A question that repeated itself the last three days now. 

Cillian stroked himself, with the hand that was coated in her juices. He couldn't help it, his mind brought up images of her body. Of how she gasped and melted under his touch. 

This was indeed dangerous. He was older than her, this whole this was bad. So bad. She was young and needed someone her age. He couldn't believe it, a moron he was to be doing such a thing to such a lovely girl. 

But he couldn't help it and the thought of her with someone else... 

He grunted softly as finished and cleaned up quickly. Now he had to share the bed with her, the vague scent of her would cling to him. 

No, he had to be a better man. Man up, he thought as he got out and eased back into bed silently. 

The light went out. 

He was on his back, as far as he could be on his side of the bed. His mind was still doing its million rounds around. But he forced himself to fall asleep and was able to when his body relaxed. 

Gabrijela had managed to fall asleep too. A deep, dreamless sleep. 

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day. Very, very interesting indeed, was her last thought. 

[team-free-will-oneshots]

Better Than Love

Title: Better Than Love Request: Yo could you write a reader x Charlie at pride pretty please with a cherry on top? - anon Pairing: Charlie x Reader Warnings: just fluff my dudes !! Word Count: 1,346

note; i sure as heck can !! this might just be the gayest thing i’ve ever written, ur welcome. also i was listening to better than love by lesbian jesus (hayley kiyoko) on repeat while i was writing this so some of that might bleed thru but who knows. anyways enjoy!!

“Here, these too!” Charlie declared, tossing a rainbow set of suspenders into the shopping cart, which was already piled high with a multitude of multi-coloured apparel. You picked them up, turning them over in your hand once and smiling idly.

“We already have a set - the pink and orange ones for the lesbian flag, remember?” you reminded her, and she swore quietly before shrugging.

“That’s okay - I’ll wear those, you wear the rainbow ones,” she said firmly, and a laugh bubbled from your lips.

“Okay - do you think we have enough?” you asked as she tossed another packet of glitter into the cart. She frowned, staring at your haul critically before nodding.

“It’ll do,” she said eventually. “I ordered a bunch of stuff on etsy as well - I think we’ll just scrape by.” She shot you an exhilarated grin that you excitedly returned.

Both of you checked out, ignoring the cashier’s wide, overwhelmed eyes as the two of you split the pricey total of the miscellaneous rainbow items. It seemed like you’d found every single rainbow item in the entire store, from buttons to clothing, and had loaded at least two of each into your cart. With your wallets considerably lighter, the two of you left the store and found Dean waiting by the Impala.

“Took you both long enough,” he muttered, though he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept over his face as he saw how happy the two of you looked, fingers intertwined as you both hauled heavy bags.

“Can’t rush the gay agenda, Dean,” Charlie teased as he helped you both load the bags into the trunk. He chuckled.

“Right.”

“Thanks for being our chauffeur, by the way,” you said, shooting him a wink. He rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, though you could see smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. You and Charlie slipped into the backseat together, and you pulled out your phone as you connected to the Impala’s bluetooth that you had forced Dean to install. Hayley Kiyoko started blasting, and Dean spared an irritated glance over his shoulder.

“Hey, driver picks the music!” he scolded, and you shrugged as you grinned.

“Sorry, Dean. Pride means we’re legally obligated to only listen to lgbtq+ artists, I don’t make the rules. If it’s really bothering you we can throw on some Queen instead,” you suggested, and he shook his head, scoffing playfully as a smug smile crossed your face and you leaned back into Charlie’s side. Her lips found your temple as her hands slunk around your waist, and you closed your eyes contentedly. The ride passed quickly, and when the two of you jumped from the car you were quick to run inside.

The two of you quickly changed until you both resembled a mismatched patchwork of rainbows, draped in your respective flags. You couldn’t help but beam as your girlfriend caught your eye and struck a dramatic pose.

“Amazing. Beautiful. A gay icon,” you applauded, and she laughed, taking a bow and pausing as you stepped closer, reaching out to adjust the rainbow bow she’d placed in her hair. You frowned, lips puckering in concentration as you tried to straighten it, only for it to fall crooked again.

“It won’t stay straight,” you muttered, and Charlie’s face split into a shit-eating grin.

“We have something in common, then,” she teased, and you rolled your eyes, unable to keep the amusement off your face.

“Good one,” you said sarcastically, and she giggled, cutting off your half-hearted complaints at her bad puns by sealing her lips to yours. The sweet taste of her mouth on your own and the feeling of her hands sneaking around your waist to pull you closer quickly sucked any thoughts from your mind that didn’t revolve around her. In those few seconds, Charlie Bradbury became your whole world. The softness of her skin beneath your fingertips, the silky tresses of her hair that your hands moved to tangle in, the fresh, floral scent of her perfume…

You found yourself dazed when you pulled away, blinking and swallowing a few times as Charlie beamed at your flushed cheeks, placing a chaste kiss to one.

“Come on, let’s break out the glitter!” she said enthusiastically, and you let her hand find yours as she dragged you to the bunker’s library, where the rest of your bags awaited. Sam sat nearby at a desk, laptop in front of him as he scanned news articles for potential cases. When the two of you came out (pun intended), he raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You two look great. And… bright,” he remarked, and Charlie shrugged, sharing a smile with you before walking to plop herself in the seat across from the tall Winchester. You fell into the seat next to her.

“We’re about to be even brighter,” you told him. The plastic bag rustled as you pulled out a packet of glitter and shot him a wink. Light scattered off the tiny, shining specks, and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Glitter in the bunker? You realise Dean is gonna kill you, right?”

You shrugged, tearing open the packet with your teeth but jerking back in surprise as glitter exploded from the tiny plastic sachet, cascading over the present company and covering the three of you in flecks of rainbow glitter. You blinked in shock as Charlie’s laughter drew you back to reality.

“Good work, Y/N,” she teased, planting a kiss on your cheek and stealing the packet from you. “Maybe I’ll do the glitter stuff, yeah?”

Smiling sheepishly, you nodded. “Okay, yeah. Maybe that’s for the best.”

A mere half an hour later, not only were you and Charlie adorned with glitter on your faces and in your hair, but the bunker was certainly a lot more… rainbow and sparkly than when you’d found it. Sam snickered as he shook glitter from his hair.

“Dean is so gonna kill you,” he informed you, and you poked your tongue out at him.

“He’ll live.” You glanced at the clock, turning back to Charlie with an eager expression. “Come on, let’s get going!”

---

By the time you arrived, the pride parade was in full swing. People were marching, shouting gleefully and kissing, and the street was lined with vendors selling flags and other rainbow bits and bobs. You felt excitement knotting in your stomach at the sense of belonging and acceptance that buzzed through the air. The sun shone a little brighter, the sky seemed a little bluer, and you felt Charlie’s hand slide into yours.

“How cool is this?” she breathed, and you could hear the awe and anticipation in her tone as her wide eyes drank in every sight surrounding you. No matter how many years you’d come here, you could never get used to it - there was nowhere else you felt so celebrated, so… accepted, and that feeling could never grow old.

You squeezed Charlie’s hand as you turned to look at her, heart stammering with pure elation. As beautiful as the parade was, in your eyes, she outshone any other person there, gleamed brighter than any shimmering decoration. The glitter twinkling high on her cheekbones reflected the glaring sunlight, almost as bright as the sparkle in her eyes - the glowing joy and cheekiness that had first drawn you to her.

Your hands sought her waist, and she smirked as you pulled her close, brushing her hair back from her face as you leaned in to kiss her. The world seemed to fall away, the cheers and clapping and music fading into nothing as her lips moved against yours, soft and sure, familiar and warm. She hummed into the kiss, smiling as her arms wound around your neck and threaded through your hair.

She pulled back just enough to rest her forehead on yours, cheeks flushed. Her lips, slightly swollen from your act, curved into a radiant smile that made butterflies turn in your stomach. As the music and festivities swam into focus, you could say one thing for certain;

Nothing was better than love.

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme @spnlovr73 @kina666 @liviaolivia @simplyxparker @helpmeluci @demonsofhunting

[porchwood]

Hi just so I understand cause i keep waiting for it and it doesnt seem likely to happen have you kind of fallen out of love with wtm? and everlark in general tbh? cause ive been following you for a while now and you always had lil quotes and pictures and things that reminded you inspired you whatever it was about katniss and wtm and now alllll it is is gadge i followed you because personally i love what you did with everlark and im just wondering if thats gone and not foreseeable any time soon?

I’ve been thinking a lot about how to answer this… It’s afair question - to a point. If you’re more of a drop-in person (like me) thanlive-on-the-dash, coming back to find my blog awash in Gadge might have beenquite upsetting. There are several reasons for the current state of things:

1. Life has been driving me into the ground since December26, 2013. (Yes, going on six straight years.) If you were a WtM reader from thebeginning, you may recall that I was pretty energetic and prolific in 2012-2013.Oh, there were tough times, but nothing like what started on the aforementioneddate (a car accident where I was in the “bystander” vehicle and it still got totaled)and has continued relentlessly ever since. Sometimes adversity leads to greatcreativity and sometimes it turns you into a depressed, exhausted, reclusivelump, and the past 5+ years have seen periods of both from me. These past 18months have been exceptionally awful (and expensive), resulting in very littlewriting at all, about any pairing.

2. Writing WtM takes a lot out of me. I don’t know whether thisis common knowledge or not, but it’s the gospel truth. I love that world, Ilove that version of Everlark, but every chapter requires so much hard work, itmakes me tired just to think of it. Not to mention, over the past couple of chaptersEverlark have been pushing for more intimacy than the plot/timeline allows, andso I’ve been struggling with how I want to handle that. Do I fight them andstick to the plan? (I can’t advance the timeline for several reasons.) Do I tryto figure out a cheat for them? They’ve got minds of their own and have changedmy plans multiple times, but this is something they genuinely can’t have, and Ihave to fight them on it. ☹ Which is sad, frustrating, and exhausting.

3. I’m a multi-pairing shipper, and have been from about 3chapters into WtM. Which means that my Everlark fics almost always feature asecondary pairing (or more than one), and sometimes I’ll get a plot bunny for afic about a pairing other than Everlark. Most writers in the THG fandom exclusivelywrite their OTP, whatever the plot bunny, but I find that some plot bunnies don’tfit Everlark as well as they do another pairing. (This is why I’ll never write aBeauty and the Beast Everlark fic unless Katniss is the “Beast,” if you will.)

4. The Everlark fandom is…tricky. I’ve never fit in there. Idon’t write Everlark the way the majority of fans see them (except for Peetabeing “sweet,” I guess), I hated the movies (I refuse to see MJ 1 or 2), and I’vemanaged to really rub some people the wrong way over the years –unintentionally, and for a variety of reasons – all of which leaves me feeling kinda down about Everlark in general. Don’t misunderstand me: I love Everlarkand WtM, but it’s really isolating to be this sad little island of unpopularopinions and unwelcome side-ships. That’s the part I really wish I could makeyou understand. For six years I’ve had Christopher Plummer in my head saying, “You’llnever be one of them,” and he’s so, cruelly, right. I want to cry every time Ithink of Embracing the Season (my E-rated Everlark modern AU oneshot for Lovein Panem - lots of daring for me!) because I poured heart and soul into that andit still wasn’t the Everlark that people wanted.

5. About a year and a half ago (when Strawberry Time reallytook off of its own accord) I participated in Gadge Day 2017, working my buttoff to find and schedule (and tag) over 100 carefully chosen Gale/Madge/Gadge aestheticposts, and for lack of a better way to say it: it turned on my Gadge-dar. After that, thosekinds of posts just leapt out at me whenever I had a chance to scroll, and forseveral months I wasn’t sure what to do with that. With a little encouragementfrom @ghtlovesthg, I came up with #march madgeness – wherein I turned my Tumblrinto Madge/Gadge-land for one month, and it was a blast. (Side-stepping Gadgefor a moment: Madge is a highly underappreciated and underused character,especially in fic/on Tumblr and I love splashing the dash with Madge-love.) Thenext month I launched a run of pent-up Everlark posts (i.e., regularprogramming), but I missed my Madge, so I instituted #madge monday – one day aweek when I could splash the dash with Madge/Gadge. At every juncture I gavepeople tags to block if they didn’t want to see this content (though I stillget unfollows every time I post, alas). I participated in last summer’s THG Reread– on the fringe of it, but my posts (reblogs and meta) were strongly Everlark-focusedagain during that time. So there’s definitely still been Everlark on my blog,but if you’re just dropping in (or for that matter, glancing at my archive), you’regoing to see a majority of Madge/Gadge.

6. Frankly, Gadge is fun. It’s a completely different dynamicthan Everlark, with less pressure to create something transcendent, and whenthe chips are down, I’m more likely to work on something that isn’t my six-years-runningopus. This spring, in the midst of lots of awfulness, I finally wrote a piecethat I’ve had in my head for years – The Best Part of Waking Up – with a differentpairing featured in each drabble “chapter,” including Gadge, Luka/Johanna (whoI’ve been wanting to put out there for AGES) and Jack/Raisa. I haven’t beenable to write quickly in years, and I think I finished those three “chapters”in about two days, maybe three. I completed the Raisa drabble in a couple ofhours and I consider it one of the best things I’ve ever written. (Honestly, ifa pairing was going to topple Everlark in my heart, it would be Jack/Raisa, i.e.,Mr. Everdeen/Mrs. Mellark. I love them to distraction.) Once upon a time I could drabble/sprint Everlark too – notoften, but I could manage it. Maybe it’ll happen again someday, but for thetime being, when I write in quick eager bursts, it’s usually about aside-pairing.

7. Because I just need to say it: about a year ago, I set up a secondary Tumblr for almost all my side-interests and ships outside of THG. When I first joined Tumblr, porchwood was just a fun page where I posted whatever struck my fancy (pretty things, funny things, whatever I liked), and over the next few years, I honed it into a pretty “writer’s notebook” for WtM and my other THG fics (related quotes, aesthetic posts, writing check-ins, etc.). When Star Wars: The Force Awakens came out, I shared a handful of posts pertaining to a new ship (not a new direction for my blog or writing, just sharing my excitement) and it was made very clear to me that people didn’t want to see that content on my page. So when I started watching Voltron: Legendary Defender, I had a sneaking suspicion people wouldn’t want to hear about those ships either. So I started an entirely new Tumblr for that content, and every so often I accidentally post something to the wrong page, which I immediately correct in horror, but people still unfollow. Point being: this blog is THG (and a few personal life updates) ONLY, with a pretty consistent aesthetic. I hide literally everything else that I’m interested in so you don’t have to be bothered by it. Is it really so unacceptable for me to have side-ships (complementary to the main pairing, not threatening to them) in the same universe??

8. Believe it or not, I’ve been working on WtM all along,just not making any massive strides. I tried to chip away at the current chapterduring Camp Nanowrimo last July, and it was a disaster. I thought joining awriting group would be helpful, but I didn’t realize that Camp Nano is basicallya lot of writing sprints in which you try to churn out as many words aspossible, which you then report to your “cabin” – and that’s the onlyinteraction with your fellow writers. I can’t write like that anymore (seeabove) and especially not when it comes to WtM, so I got discouraged veryquickly and sort of drifted away. I reattempted Nano on my own in April and wrotealmost 15K words, but in that instance I was really just using the Nano platform toset and reach a goal (which I didn’t ☹ ); I wasn’t in a cabin and didn’t interact with anyother writers, except my friend @ghtlovesthg, who read the finished portion.

9. I want to finish this dang chapter so much, and frankly, theonly way that’s going to happen is if life gets a little better and I holemyself up with my laptop for hours on end for weeks at a time – and somemagical being comes to support/cheer/comfort me while I do so. It’s currentlysitting at about 25K and I anticipate it will need to be at least double that,which is beyond ridiculous, but that’s the nature of WtM. The chapters are asmany words as it takes.

TL, DR: I still love Everlark and I’m still working on WtM, but my life has been extremely difficult for a very long time and I don’t have a great Everlark lifeline. Gadge and all my other ships are fun, and most of the Gadge you see on my Tumblr is aesthetic stuff for themed days/months/occasions. Anything non-THG goes on my sideblog.

[vatrixsta]

How Long Will I Love You (2/3)

First before I forget, tagging  @the-corsair-and-her-quill because this is the long overdue second part of her Secret Santa fic! Also tagging @csmarchmadness because it is likely the ONLY reason a metaphorical gun was put to my head and this has been produced out of the darkness of my hectic schedule. Eagle eyed readers may notice that it now says 2/3 instead of 2/2 - that is because, while this ends where I always intended it to, I have realized, while going through the emotional journey of editing it, that while it DOES end the piece, it’s kind of open ended and I’m not going to do that to you. So I really hope you all (but especially  @the-corsair-and-her-quill ) enjoy this and know that you will get the third part by my next March posting date! Because deadlines work for me. 

Also on AO3

Killian was brooding on the couch, watching It’s a Wonderful Life.

“You hate Christmas movies,” Emma noted, plopping down next to him.

“It would appear I do,” he answered with false enthusiasm.

“So stop making yourself miserable,” she chastised, snatching the remote from him and flipping around until she settled on something she knew he’d like.

“What the bloody hell is this?” he asked.

“The Devil Wears Prada,” Emma answered. “It’s about flamboyantly dressed people living their truths under the oppression of a tyrannical corporate captain.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you comparing my Captain Hook to the actual devil?”

“Never,” she soothed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tensed under her touch, which made her tense and that place that had been aching beneath her ribs give a painful lurch. What was that thing? Right, her heart. It was two steps forward, one step back with him these days. “I’m going to wrap some stuff I got for Henry. You’re gonna love the movie, I promise.”

She ran to their bedroom like the house was on fire. She wanted to cry, like she was in one of those cheesy Christmas movies.

Later, he found her poking at one of Henry’s newly wrapped packages and wrapped himself around her, one of those full body hugs that made her feel warm and safe and cherished.

“You’re right,” he rasped against her ear. “The devil is quite a bit more my style.”

“Never question me,” she sassed with false confidence.

He squeezed her. “Never.” It sounded more like a vow than the words they’d exchanged at their impromptu wedding, with Henry their only witness. She reminded herself she’d promised to be patient.

It wasn’t a virtue she would ever be accused of possessing.

….

A few days later, Killian marched up to her with all the intent of a man determined to take his medicine and practically demanded, “Go out with me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He sighed and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Swan, I’d like to take you out. On a date. A proper one.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. Truthfully, her heart was beating a little faster at the idea that her husband might actually want to court her again. That was how he’d referred to it the first time, because he should not be allowed but here they were.

“Henry’s at that boy Adam’s house tonight,” he continued, his tone at that boy indicating exactly how much Killian didn’t care for Adam’s attitude or influence on Henry. Emma didn’t exactly disagree, but she was so happy Henry had made a friend in a new city that she was making a lot of concessions. “Let me show you a good a time, Swan.”

She smiled, a gentle, soft thing. “Okay.”

….

He didn’t give her any hints about their evening, just that she should dress warmly, so Emma threw on her favorite pair of jeans, her favorite thick red sweater and one of Killian’s black leather jackets. He seemed pretty fond of that given the momentary heat she saw flare in his eyes and she scored one point for Emma Swan.

They started on a sort of Killian-created oyster crawl, sampling the best places near them and marking down their favorites for future reference. From there, they walked to the wharf and boarded a ferry for the South Shore where Killian had arranged for a table overlooking the water where they could sip cocktails and chat. He told her about his progress on the book - slow going, apparently, but he was ‘remembering’ how to write - which she thought was an odd way to put it, but she’d learned over the years that the writer’s brain was a strange and mysterious place and she tended to leave him be about it.

A local band was playing at a nearby place and Emma was only too happy to cuddle into Killian’s side as they strolled inside and found a cozy table in back. She rested her hand on his thigh and did an internal happy dance when he didn’t tense at all, instead pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her head. The music was decent, a folksy rock sound that suited their evening well. As they wound down, Emma found herself in that loose happy place where she could smell the salt air on Killian’s skin and was having vague fantasies of stripping him naked and having her way with him. It had been weeks and though she’d gone a lot longer without sex in the past, she hadn’t since the most illegally attractive man in the world had spun her world upside down.

The illegally attractive man apparently had other plans. There was a cart that he’d discovered served the best hot chocolate and clam chowder (thankfully in separate containers - some of the fusion foods had gotten a little out of control) and since it was freezing despite all the alcohol they had warming them from the inside, they huddled together on a bench while they shared both and chatted about Henry’s grades (which were better than average but not quite up to his usual standards).

By the time they arrived at the midnight showing of The Princess Bride, she started to get a little annoyed.

The evening was perfect - packed with both her favorite things and the things they enjoyed doing together. But it was like he was trying to keep them so active and busy that they’d pass out in a heap once they got home. Emma felt less like a wife and more like an errant toddler.

Her husband was trying to tire her out.

And damn him, it was working. She nodded off halfway through the movie and woke to Killian gently stroking her chin with his thumb. The cab ride back to the apartment was a combination of cozy and pissy. If he hadn’t been so off lately, Emma might not even have noticed what he was doing. Given the tactics he’d employed recently, she could come to no other conclusion.

Killian didn’t want to have sex with her. Whatever was going on with him was the reason they hadn’t had sex in weeks. Emma tried really, really hard not to assume he was cheating on her, but she had the gossipy words of past unhappy foster families ringing in her head - if he isn’t getting it at home, he’s getting it somewhere was a refrain she’d heard over and over again when the mother of the house worried over her husband’s odd behavior.  

Still a little tipsy from the alcohol they’d indulged, Emma let Killian help her upstairs and into bed. When she tried to tug him in after her, he smiled and kissed her forehead - such a platonic gesture. Had he even kissed her, really kissed her, in weeks? Emma was shuffling through her fuzzy memories. It wasn’t like she kept a mental tally of how often she and Killian locked lips, but maybe she should start because she honestly couldn’t remember a single time he’d kissed her since they’d gotten to Boston.

“I’ll turn in soon, luv,” he murmured. “Gonna get a little work done first. Sleep sweet, darling.”

Emma stared at the ceiling for twenty minutes before she couldn’t take it another second, suddenly feeling horribly sober.

The walk to Killian’s office seemed to take forever, partly because she wasn’t really sober and partly because she was afraid of what she’d find. Would he be texting someone? God, maybe Skyping with some woman? Was that an image Emma wanted in her head? It definitely wasn’t but the not knowing was driving her crazy.

It was almost a shock, how banal the scene that greeted her was. His laptop shut tight, phone nowhere in sight, Killian was staring out the window, brooding was the only word Emma could think of to describe it. A glass of amber liquid was clutched in his right hand and she assumed it was rum, given the open bottle on his desk. Killian was no stranger to his favorite drink, but she was surprised he’d indulge after how much they’d had to drink earlier.

Though, she realized, thumbing through the drinking part of their evening, Killian had ordered a single beer with her and then switched to club soda. Emma had to hold in a bark of hysterical laughter. He’d been getting her drunk so he wouldn’t have to take advantage of her.

She wanted to confront him, though she wasn’t even positive what she would say. She wanted to shake him until he told her what was going on. She wanted to demand he leave if he wanted to leave.

She wanted him to tell her she was being ridiculous and he was just … oh she didn’t know, at this point if he said he had a rare disease he was struggling with she would almost be relieved, but the immediate thought that followed, the idea that Killian wouldn’t exist anymore, that he might die, took all the air from her body and she promised any deity listening that she would let him go without hesitation if it meant he was alive.

No, Emma was definitely still too drunk for the conversation they were going to have. And she was going to have to do something about her armor - she wasn’t wearing it, hadn’t worn it around Killian in so long, she almost didn’t know how to put it back on. But she would have to if she was to survive this.

…

“Can I stay over at Adam’s again?” Henry asked.

“Flerf?” Emma was still nursing hangover black coffee and wishing the sun would dial it down a notch, but she was positive Henry wasn’t asking for another sleepover when he’d barely been home for ten minutes.

“I believe your mother meant to say ‘no,’” Killian cheerfully translated, depositing a heaping plate of greasy bacon, eggs and carefully cut up fruit in front of her and a smaller plate with a lot more fruit to bacon ratio in front of Henry.

Cue Henry’s getting-less-adorable-by-the-day ten year old eye roll. “Come on, we’re in the middle of an important campaign, everything is riding on it--”

“It’s a video game, lad, not a military offensive,” Killian chided.

“We’ve got teammates depending on us,” Henry insisted.

“So you can play from your bedroom,” Emma said. “That’s how this all works, right? Everyone’s playing from different locations?”

Henry looked so bitter she’d actually been paying attention to how his games worked.

“It’s family night, kid,” she added. “You know how I feel about family night.”

It was a low blow, but Henry instantly looked guilty. He knew exactly how much she’d wanted a family her whole life and she’d made a point, no matter how much she was working, to taking one night a week for them to spend time together. Killian had been inducted into their lives on a family night officially and they’d rarely missed one in Henry’s entire life. She knew one day he’d be an actual teenager and way too cool for board games with his parents, but she wanted this for him and, selfishly, she wanted it for herself as long as she could get it.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll tell Adam I can’t make it.”

“You can still dial in,” Killian reminded him, completely butchering the tech speak he had no interest in retaining.

“Nah, they can do one campaign without me,” Henry said. “Besides, if they fail without me, I’ll get team leader for sure.”

“That’s my devious little man,” Emma praised, pinching his cheeks as Killian ruffled his hair, being with pride at the boy’s cunning.

Henry squirmed until he was able to disentangle both of them and started shoveling his breakfast down. Killian took his seat beside her, lifting her hand to his mouth to press a brief kiss to her knuckles before tucking into his own plate. It was a simple gesture, one he did almost habitually, but it reignited the roiling in Emma’s gut.

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered, escaping to the bathroom to throw up. She was rarely this badly hungover after a few drinks and she blamed the emotional stress on how bad she felt.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted her sullen thoughts and Killian peeked his head inside. “All right, luv?”

“I’m dying,” she muttered, a touch dramatically.

“I certainly hope not,” he said lightly, dropping to his knees beside her and holding her hair back in case she got sick again. “What would we do without you?”

YOU’RE SO FUCKING CONFUSING, she wanted to scream at him. But her head hurt too much and her armor was the opposite of fortified so - repression and denial it was.

Emma rested her head against his shoulder and let her husband comfort her.

…..

Family night was a huge hit - Kilian wasn’t pulling away when it was the three of them, gleefully taking all of Henry’s money in a game of Monopoly then dutifully picking a movie Henry loved (Star Wars) as was his right as victor. They ate popcorn and Killian didn’t even fuss too much at the Nestle Crunch mixed into the bowl. With Henry snuggled between them (God she didn’t want to think about him being older and unwilling to snuggle with them) it was a perfect night.

Then the movie ended and Henry went to bed, though not before letting out a gleeful YES! that indicated his friends had not been victorious in their campaign and he would ascend to the role of team leader.

Killian was changing into his pajamas and hiding an exaggerated yawn behind his prosthetic. Subtle, Jones, real subtle.

Emma, very tired of this game he was playing, stared him down as she started stripping off her clothes. Sure enough once he realized she wasn’t being remotely modest, he jerked around so quickly she thought he was going to strain something. She kept glaring at his back until she was down to her underwear. He was pretending to look for something on his nightstand. She moved into his peripheral vision with purpose and, assuming she had finished dressing, he glanced up to look at her and his mouth dropped open slowly as he realized she was nearly naked.

“It’s, ah…” He licked his lips, slowly, and she was somewhat gratified to know that at least her naked breasts still had some effect on him. “Cold. It’s cold tonight, isn’t it?” he asked like he almost wasn’t sure.

Emma pulled back the covers on her side of the bed then did a very bad job of covering herself with them. “Then you should come to bed and keep me warm,” she said in the best come hither voice she had.

And even though she almost expected the rejection, his hesitation still stung. The weird thing about it? He wanted to. Emma might be insecure and a little crazy when it came to her abandonment issues, but she knew when a man wanted her and Killian definitely did. He was almost swaying toward the bed, as if in a trance. Boobs did that to men, but she was pretty sure it was more than a heterosexual man’s biological reaction. Killian wanted her but for reasons only he knew was determined to deny it.

Emma felt suddenly and absurdly ashamed of herself - she didn’t need to throw herself at a man who wasn’t interested and she definitely didn’t want some kind of pity fuck to manifest out of this desperation she was displaying. Gripping the covers tightly in her fist, she turned her back on Killian and made sure she was completely covered. She could feel his indecision, could feel him staring at the back of her head, but she was done trying to initiate things. She’d promised him patience, but since she was out of that, he could live with petulance instead.

The mattress dipped on his side as he cautiously got into bed. He reached a tentative hand out toward her arm and she jerked away from him. She spun to face him and his eyes were so comically wide that she might have laughed if she wasn’t so hurt and angry.

Mostly angry.

“Don’t pretend,” she snapped. “Just go sleep in your office; we both know that’s what you’re going to do as soon as you’re sure I’m asleep anyway.”

She hadn’t been sure of that, actually, but the flare of guilt in his eyes was as good as a signed confession.

“You obviously don’t want to sleep with your wife, so don’t.” She turned away from him again, bundling herself in her blanket and her misery.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered after nearly a full minute of silence. “I’d rather lose another limb than hurt you.”

“You are hurting me.” Emma was angry at the tears that were falling because they felt manipulative somehow, but the idea that Killian might not want her anymore ripped open every scabbed over wound she had. “You’re hurting me every second you don’t want to be with me. Killian, seriously, I don’t…” Even though it felt ridiculous, she wriggled around until she faced him again, without relinquishing her blanket burrito; she really, really didn’t want to have this conversation topless. “I don’t want your pity or your guilt. I don’t want you to stay because you feel trapped. You can…. We can figure out how you could still be part of Henry’s life, if that’s what’s holding you here. But you don’t want me anymore. You’ve made it pretty obvious and I’ve been in too much denial to see it. Do you know how pathetic it is, to realize that your husband has lost all interest in you, but he feels too bad for you being a fucking foster kid to leave?”

“Lost interest,” he muttered, as if it were the most hysterical thing she’d ever said. “Bloody hell, do you have any idea how impossible it is to lie next to you, night after night, willing and wanting and not simply ravish you?”

“Oh, fuck off,” she whisper-yelled, flinging the blanket aside, her unbound breasts be damned. She stomped over to the dresser and pulled on the first t-shirt she found, then spun around with her arms crossed, ready to really fight. As much as they could, given Henry was down the hall. “I am so sick of your mixed messages and pleas for time. You feel like a fraud? Well, stop acting like one! Decide what you want and live with it.”

“It’s not that bloody easy,” he hissed, rising from the bed to regard her from across the room. “I can’t just think about what I want. I have to think about what’s best for you, for Henry. It’s not fair to expect…” He clamped his jaw shut tightly. “Nothing I say will bloody matter,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “I can scarcely reconcile all the thoughts raging through my own mind. How could I possibly expect you to contend with it? I’m not the man you think I am and… I’m hurting you. Something I swore I would never do, not intentionally. Perhaps… perhaps I should leave.”

Even though Emma had basically challenged him to do just that, everything inside of her froze at the idea of it. “So that’s it. You’re leaving me.” She felt like she was three again, or seven or twelve or fifteen or seventeen - unwanted, unloved, undeserving of the family she’d craved and fought for.

“No!” His hoarse denial snapped her out the cold dread seeping into her limbs. He moved closer to her, the way you might approach a feral cat, his hand and prosthetic outstretched. “Not leaving you. I would never… Emma, I would do anything to stay with you. But I don’t want to keep hurting you while I figure out how to do the honorable thing.”

His eyes were begging her for understanding, but Emma was done coddling whatever delusion was chasing around his head. She knew Killian had demons, the same as she did, and if his were trying to destroy everything they’d built together… well she could put on her big girl panties.

Emma slapped his shoulder. “That’s for thinking it wouldn’t hurt me more than anything if you left.”

“Emma--”

She slapped his other shoulder. “That’s for thinking you had to do anything to stay with me but stay.”

“Swan--”

She shoved his chest, hard, with both hands, satisfied when he stumbled back a few steps. “And that’s for thinking I want you to do the honorable thing if your crazy, fucked up line of thought has led you to consider for a second that it’s somehow not right or fair for us to be together.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he seethed back at her. “You don’t really know me! I’m not the man you married anymore!”

Emma tried very, very hard not to diminish what was obviously a very real torment weighing on him by calling bullshit at the mere idea. So she took a deep breath and asked in a very calm voice, “Do you love me?”

“Emma,” he sighed.

“No, you don’t get to act like I’m ridiculous for asking. You’re the idiot here, so you get to answer any question I have. Do you love me?”

“More than anything,” he said in that low voice that made her toes curl. Point to Killian for style.

“Do you… do you want to be with me?” she asked, faltering only slightly in her confidence.

He sighed fondly. “More than anything,” he replied, his tone gentling.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Then let me see if you’re the man I married. Let me decide that, okay?”

Slowly, almost with fear, he nodded his head.

“Good,” she whispered. She cleared her throat, trying to organize her thoughts. She wasn’t the one who was good at romantic declarations, but for him, she was going to try her damnedest. “It wasn’t love at first sight between you and me. I was prickly and guarded and you actually liked that about me. You’ve been hurt deeply before, lost more than I ever had in the first place, but we understand each other; you and me, it wasn’t love, but we understood each other at first sight and I think that probably scared me most of all. You saw me and I saw you and for better or for worse I don’t think there was a point either of us could have turned back.”

“Swan,” he choked, his eyes filling with tears. But she wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot.

“I don’t know you? You love with your whole body, so deeply that loss is like a knife to you. You’d cut off your other hand before you’d lose someone you love again. I don’t know you? You’re capable of things that make you ashamed, things you did after you lost your brother, after you lost your first love. You drowned for awhile, until you found a better way to channel all that loss and rage and then you met me. You loved me and I don’t know if I could have let anyone but you love me like this, because I don’t know if anyone else would have loved me enough to break down those walls. But you did. You always have. So you can tell me you don’t want me and you can leave if you think you’ve made a mistake being with us, but you do not get to tell me I don’t know who you are. You’re not a coward so don’t act like one.”

Killian stared at her with a strange kind of longing, almost salvation in his eyes.

“As usual, Swan… you’re damned right,” he muttered and then his hand was in her hair and his mouth was pressing against hers with all the urgency and passion she’d been missing for weeks only it was somehow more, something that left her more breathless, more wanting, more relieved than she could possibly have imagined.

He walked her back until she bumped into the dresser, then he lifted her up to sit on top of it so they were at the same level. She wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him closer, one of her hands in his hair while the other slid under the warm henley he wore to caress his back. He gentled his kiss after a moment, leaning away from her long enough to look her in the eye.

“Hi,” she said, because the way he was looking at her was somehow more than the way he’d always looked at her and that was really saying something.

“I just want to remember this,” he said quietly, thumbing at the dimple in her chin. He leaned forward and kissed her again, slow and soft, and Emma felt her whole body melt into his.

Then his hand was under her bottom and she was off her feet again, spun around until her back hit the mattress and Killian followed her down without pulling away.

His mouth blazed a trail over the bridge of her nose, her jaw, the spot behind her ear that made her moan. It was like he was remembering and learning all the places she liked him best and Emma was absolutely not complaining. It was a little bit like he had been right - she hadn’t known him, or perhaps hadn’t known the full depth of him, because this felt somehow… more than it ever had before and there was a damned good reason she’d missed their sex life - it had been pretty incredible.

But this… hell, they hadn’t even taken their clothes off and she was ready to crawl out of her skin.

“I want to see you,” Killian muttered against her mouth, then he pulled her up on the bed so they were facing each other on their knees. He watched her eyes as he found the hem of her t-shirt and slowly dragged it up her torso, only breaking eye contact to lean down and press fervent, wet kisses to her ribs as they were revealed. Emma lifted her arms above her head and helped him pull the shirt the rest of the way off, then groaned because Killian had found her breasts and they were definitely going to be best friends from here on out.

He palmed her and kissed her and bit at her in all the right ways and she was right about this being more somehow, because she was about to come simply from the way he was worshipping her chest.

But she didn’t want to, not yet. Her hands found the hem of his Henley and she repeated his actions, pressing her mouth over his abdomen and trailing up his chest as he helped her remove the shirt completely. Her hand trailed down to the prosthetic he never wore to bed and he tensed.

She raised an eyebrow. “I want to see you,” she parrotted huskily.

He let her remove the prosthetic and set it gently on his nightstand. She cradled his left arm between her breasts and leaned in to kiss him again, those slow, soft kisses that were mending all the bruises around her heart; soon, they’d barely ache at all.

Killian’s hand began to wander again, reacquainting itself with the bare skin of her back, teasing at the band of her underwear by dipping beneath it then giving it a single, sharp snap that had her pushing her hips against his. He lowered her back to the bed and they both tugged at her underwear until she was able to kick it away. Killian pressed his mouth over her abdomen, his touch reverent as he moved over all the places she used to feel uncomfortable about - the stretch marks Henry left her with, the appendix scar that kept her from wearing bikinis for years. They were just another part of her as far as Killian was concerned.

He inhaled deeply when he reached the spot between her legs and before she could tell him she was too wound up, that she just wanted him, he was already diving in, his lips and tongue discovering and rediscovering and holy Jesus Christ how was he actually better at this than he’d been before?

Emma buried one hand in his hair and used the other to quiet the cries she wanted to let loose, biting into her palm to keep herself quiet. Poor Henry - they couldn’t traumatize him.

It was almost embarrassing how fast she came, quiet mewls smothered by her hand until Killian was suddenly there, replacing her hand with his mouth and she could taste herself on him and it was so, so hot and she was satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time and she had to get his fucking pajama pants off right now.

He reached between them for a moment to guide himself and then he was there, he was inside, and Emma gasped something between a laugh and a sob at how absurdly, ridiculously relieved she was to have him there. He smiled against her mouth, an agreement of sorts, and then his hips moved against her, both of them finding a rhythm that worked so, so well and she wanted to keep kissing him but she also wanted to suck at his neck so she did that while he kissed her shoulder and she dragged her foot up his hip until her heel was smacking against his lower back with every thrust and fuck she was gonna come again--

This time his mouth was firmly on hers to muffle her cries or maybe hers were muffling his, she wasn’t really sure because this was really, definitely the best sex they had ever, ever had and if he ever tried to withhold it from her again for some dumbass reason he made up in his head she was going to hurt him. Or maybe just tie him to the bed until he submitted. Yeah. That seemed like a more reasonable plan.

She felt like she was drifting for a moment, but came back to herself as Killian pressed fervent, arduous kisses to every inch of bare skin he could reach without disentangling their bodies. “I love you,” he muttered between kisses, so much and so often she thought that he was trying to make up for the last few weeks, when he hadn’t said it at all.

“I love you,” she whispered against the adorable curve of his ear. “Whatever’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours--”

“Is done,” he promised, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. “I’ll not leave your side unless you order me away, Emma.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” she assured him. “Who else am I gonna find to fuck me like that?”

“Such a filthy mouth,” he chastised a second before he kissed her again.

….

Things were good. Like, really good. Like, better than even her best memory. It was like something clicked for them and the whole world realigned itself to a new world order. Killian was back to being her attentive, outrageously flirtatious husband, except he was also softer than she remembered him being, more vulnerable. It’s like he was determined to lay himself bare for her, almost daring her to find him wanting.

As if. Emma felt a little bit like she’d won the lottery or like she was in the middle of the best dream ever, the kind you never wanted to wake up from because nothing in reality could possibly feel this good.

Henry and Killian had long gotten back on the even keel they’d had before - except their relationship, too, seemed just a little bit more than Emma remembered, Killian more attuned to Henry’s moods, more eager to make sure he was safe - sometimes to the annoyance of the boy himself. The way he watched over her (their, really) little boy made Emma love him even more.

They were stretched out on the couch, legs tangled as they both worked on their laptops at opposite ends. Emma’s ringtone for Henry startled them both, lulled by the quiet clacking of their keyboards.

Her little boy’s voice was tiny and heartbroken as she leaned her head next to Killian’s so they could both hear.

“Can you guys come get me?”

He was at the police station. Emma had made fast friends with the cops who worked the evening shift, having brought in enough skips to them in the short few months they’d been in Boston to endear herself to the lot of them. Popping for a giant box of donuts a few times didn’t hurt. So Officer Miles made sure the boys were kept in an unused office rather than anywhere too scary.

Henry looked defiant and ashamed at the same time. Emma took care of the paperwork - thanking Officer Miles profusely for keeping this off their permanent record - and frowned when Adam’s parents showed up, smacking the boy on the back of his head and calling him an idiot, a juvenile delinquent. They didn’t even ask what had happened. Emma watched Killian cup the back of Henry’s head protectively, as if the punishment being doled out to his partner in crime could somehow be contagious.

“I imagine they were just being young boys,” Killian said when Adam’s parents paused long enough to let someone else get a word in. “I’m sure they won’t do anything like this again.”

Killian didn’t know what they’d done either. But he knew Henry, knew him like Emma did and despite everything, Henry had called them. The boys didn’t have identification and probably could have caused the police no end of frustration by refusing to identify themselves, but Henry had called them within five minutes of arriving at the station.

It turned out Adam had the idea to break into the aquarium and take selfies in front of the sharks. Killian reminded Henry that no successful crime hinged on taking incriminating photographs and Henry seemed to sigh in disappointment at his own foolishness. Emma broke the news that trips to the police station meant he was grounded for a month, no video games and no Adam. Henry protested the last, explaining that he was Adam’s only real friend and he couldn’t just abandon him.

Emma and Killian exchanged a look, having seen the sort of treatment Adam got from his parents. They conceded that Henry and Adam could see one another to study -- only to study -- provided Adam got permission from his parents to do so at their apartment.

To no one’s surprise, Adam’s parents agreed easily and Adam spent most of the next week practically sleeping over at the apartment. He took meals with the family, finished his homework promptly and delighted in the astronomy lessons Killian gave both boys. Emma felt proud of Henry, because the boy they’d considered a bad influence (which… well, he was) had actually been someone in need of a hero.

Adam was returned to his own home for Christmas Eve with promises to have him over for Boxing Day, a holiday Killian assured him was actually a much better meal than the one served at Christmas. Henry’s grounding was officially lifted for the holiday and they exchanged presents - besides the usual socks and sweaters and video games, Emma and Henry got Killian a keyboard that would attach to his laptop that was supposed to be easier to use with one hand. Emma knew his prosthetic grew painful after extended wear and Killian liked to write later into the night than was entirely comfortable. Henry unwrapped the new gaming console he’d spent weeks hinting at and Emma got two gifts from her boys: the first, a cheesy ornament for the tree that said “First Christmas in Boston” with a spot for a photograph they’d snapped on one of their family nights, the three of them sporting equally cheesy grins over a failed game of Twister. The second was a ring on a chain.

“It belonged to the best man I know - my brother, Liam,” Killian said softly. “I’ve always thought it brought me luck, protected me, and there’s no one I’d rather it keep from harm.” He draped the chain over her neck and Emma settled it against her sweater.

“Merry Christmas,” Emma whispered as Henry, tired of the mushy stuff, eagerly went to hook up his new console.

“Happy Christmas, luv,” Killian whispered back.

....

Life went on from there. Their first few weeks in Boston faded into the tapestry of the rest of their lives together - Emma remembered it, when she rarely thought of it, as Killian’s weird self esteem mysterious freak out.

Henry graduated fifth grade and they flew to Florida to celebrate his eleventh birthday at Disney World. Adam came with them and the two boys kept each other busy and tired enough that Emma and Killian managed a few quiet moments amidst the wonderful chaos.

Killian finished his book (hence the splurgey birthday trip to Disney World) and his publishers flipped over how much they loved it. They said the realism he’d given his fanciful characters outdid anything he’d produced before and they were going to give the book a big holiday push.

Emma managed to avoid injury during every skip she chased. She pretended it was just a matter of time, but she secretly believed what Killian did - that Liam’s ring was keeping her safe.

Once Henry started sixth grade, Emma felt settled in a way she couldn’t explain. She and Killian were curled together in bed, her favorite pillow breathing deeply under her cheek. His fingers were trailing up and down her spine and if she hadn’t been so recently satiated she probably would have crawled on top of him.

“Do you, um… do you ever think about what it would be like if we had another kid?” she asked.

His fingers paused their idle stroking briefly before resuming. “I thought that’s what we were calling Adam?”

“Har har,” she muttered, poking him in the ribs. Then she went back to running her fingers through his chest hair, tracing random patterns so she could ignore how genuinely worried she was for his response. “I mean, a kid that looked a little like me and a little like you.”

“I’ve often thought of giving Henry a little brother or a little sister,” he confided. “If there was ever a boy born to be someone’s big brother, it’s our Henry.”

Emma felt this strange sense of calmness settle within her. “So… I guess I could stop taking my pill.”

“I guess you could,” Killian agreed softly.

The next day, she dumped her pills in the garbage.

….

The day after that, as Killian was making breakfast and Henry was watering their plants, Emma answered a knock at the door.

“Hi.” A petite woman with curly blonde hair pulled into a messy bun stood on the other side. “I know this is going to sound really, really crazy and you have no idea who I am, but um… something’s happened. Your family needs you.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “My family is right here.”

“I don’t just mean Henry. I mean… your parents.”

“Okay, we’re done.” Emma went to slam the door in the woman’s face, but before she could connect, Killian’s hand covered the side of the door, pulling it back.

“Tink,” he breathed.

The other woman’s eyes widened. “Hook. You… you know me?”

It was then that Emma saw that look in his eyes, the one she hadn’t seen since they’d first come to Boston. The guilt. The shame. As if he’d stolen something that didn’t belong to him.

“Aye, luv,” he said as if every word was painful. “You’d best come inside.” He looked at Emma then, some endlessly sad apology in his eyes. “We’ve much to discuss.”

[whisker-biscuit]

Update for 2019!!

Hi guys! So I’m not dead, which is great. Let me share some quick things and give an idea of what you can expect from me in the next few months.

Basically, last November my computer broke. Like, physically got destroyed in a freak accident. It had all my WIPs for ongoing stories like Harley Quinn, the still-unfinished prompts (I promise I’ll get to that as well guys, so sorry for that), and just various one-shots for Villainous and various other fandoms. It was a hard blow and I lost a lot of motivation, which technically didn’t matter because I didn’t even have a reliable way to write and upload. I’ve ONLY just gotten my laptop back this last week, and while all my WIPs are still there, I haven’t written since - you guessed it - November. 

So what I’ve been doing now is getting my stuff situated, and slowly getting back into recreational writing. It’s a frustrating process, but once I’m happy with my work again, I’ll definitely start posting again. For Harley Quinn especially, I don’t want the next chapters to feel different from the previous ones, so I apologize for the long wait, but I want them to be at their best and I think I just need this month to do that. I’m setting a tentative update for that story by March 1st at the VERY latest, and I’ll most likely post some of the stuff I’ve been writing to get into the hang of things again. Some of it will be Villainous, some of it will be for other fandoms that you may or may not know; I just wanted to write things that I enjoy because I know that will be the fastest way to get my motivation back. 

Thank you to everyone who is still following me or waiting patiently for new content. I’ve gotten so many wonderful comments from dedicated readers and your kindness has helped me feel like I can really enjoy writing for fandoms again.  You’re all amazing and I hope 2019 is a great year for everyone!

[tcswritings]

At first sight.

Have some Charlie and James. Have some twins. Have some Charlie and James again. Have some Orla. Have some more Charlie and James. In short: Have the not so exciting conversations and events that lead up to that first kiss between Orla and James

I had an Anon asking about my peeps’ first kisses a while ago already and I just happened to find this Orla/James draft I started a while ago and decided to get back to it again. I love me some James and Orla even though they’re highly dysfunctional at this point. Or, maybe, just because of that ‘cause ‘not really functioning’ doesn’t keep them from having the feels for each other.

Orla and James met in rather, well, tense times, in March 2017. They were both dealing with some things in their lives that put a damper on both of their moods. So, it’s safe to say that neither her or him expected any of the events that were about to happen.

WARNING: The following rather messy/sketchy/incoherent rambling/writing has James and O’Connells in it. Read as: there will be bad language and probably inappropriate stuff and phrasings at times. Whatever you might wanna call it - read at own risk!

About three months prior to meeting his future girlfriend for the first time, James learned that his ex-fling, Sophie, was expecting his child and he didn’t take the news well. It’s not like Sophie put any pressure on him. In fact, letting James off the hook was the first thing she did, knowing that he never wanted anything to do with kids. James still didn’t feel good about the whole matter. He was nervous, he was mopey, he was irritated, he just felt bad all the time.

That’s when Charlie decided to invite James to come along to Ireland with her. She and Kieran had pretty much just started their romance (around Christmas 2016, to be specific) and she was just about to go to Galway   for the first time as his girlfriend. So she suggested to James to come along. Charlie knew that Kieran’s younger siblings would be around as well. He had mentioned it a while ago and she was excited to finally meet them.

“I don’t wanna go to Ireland.” James moaned. “Why would I want to go to a place that has even more freaks like your-”

“Shuuush.” Charlie cut him off. “I mean, you don’t have to go? I’m not forcing you but just think about it for a sec, will ya?”

“I don’t know, Chuck. Maybe. Ireland is boring, though, I’ve been there.”

“It’s not boring just ‘cause you didn’t like it, dunno, 20 years ago?”

James just went on without picking up on Charlie’s remark. “Besides, you guys are gonna be busy fuckin’ your brains out anyway. Don’t need me for that.” James made a face and looked at his friend. “I hope?”

Charlie closed her eyes. “I’m just going to ignore that.” she murmured, and a few moments later she went on. “Look, you can stay here and mope and be a pain to anyone around you. If that’s what you want, fine. Do it. If I have to answer just one of your whiny calls while I’m busy doing what you just said, though, I’m going to be seriously mad.”

“Oh, here’s a pro tip. Turn the phone off.”

“James!”

“What? It always worked for me?”

“You know what I mean!” Charlie pleaded. “Just think about it! You need a change, you need to get your mind off that thing every once in a while. Going things over and over in your head won’t get you anywhere! I know what I’m talkin’ about, I’m the queen of overthinking!”

“What do you mean by ‘whiny calls’ anyway?”

“Three days ago you called and whined to me ‘cause you didn’t get any fries with your burger. I can only imagine what happens when you get whiny about your situation again and I’m not around.”

“Fair enough.” James took a breath. “Okay, I’ll think about it!” he relented eventually and slumped back in his chair.

“Promise?”

“YES, for fuck’s sake.”

Charlie looked at James for a little while, amused and smiling.

James noticed and he groaned. “What now?!”

“Yoooou… just pretend to think about it, ‘cause we both already know you’re going, right?”

“If I say yes, will you shut up and stop staring at me like that?”

“Mhm!” Charlie nodded enthusiastically.

“Great. Yes. Everything you just said. Happy?”

“Attaboy.” Charlie laughed and now rose from her chair and grabbed her coat and handbag. “I’ll send you a screenshot of my ticket later - make sure you’ll get a seat next to mine.”

“I’m bookin’ last minute, Chuck.“ James sighed. “I’ll get what I get.”

“Just buy the airline then, it’s not like you couldn’t?”

“Don’t push it.” James murmured and he reached for his laptop. Crossing his legs and making himself comfortable in his armchair, he waited for the computer to boot.

“Alright, fine. I’ll be at the O’Learys around nine and you better have a ticket then.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, are you bossing your Irishman around like that?”

“Not yet.” Charlie smiled. “You’re more fun to boss around anyway.” She leaned down and kissed the side of James’ head.

He smiled. “Get out.”

Charlie couldn’t help but feel really statisfied with herself while leaving James’ apartment. She was certain that this trip would help him get his mind off everything and maybe even help him figure some things out. It usually worked for her. If not - well, they would still have a great time.

______________

A few weeks later, the two of them got on a plane from Boston to Dublin, pretty much at the same time the O’Connell twins were on their way to Dublin as well, going by Orla’s old car. They had just gotten back on the road after they had to take a little pit stop in Athlone because Declan kept complaining about a noise he thought the car was making and he refused to drive another mile unless someone took a look at it.

“Relax, Dipso, the guys said everything is fine!”

“But it’s still makin’ that noise!” Declan insisted. “Just get this mess of a car to Mick already! These guys probably didn’t even really look at it.”

“Oh come on, how can you even pretend to hear a noise with that shit comin’ out of the radio anyway?”

“Shit?!” Declan exclaimed, outraged. “That’s not shit?! It’s some o’ the finest thrash from Germany, mind you.”

“Yeah. Trash really puts it really well.” Orla murmured and now bent down to her bag on the floor, frantically looking for a snack.

Declan, not really keen on explaining the difference between ‘trash’ and ‘thrash’ to his sister again, especially not in a moment she obviously didn’t care about getting a lesson in Heavy Metal History, rolled his eyes and sighed, as he turned the volume down. “Oh hell, you’re in a mood?!”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Orla now moaned, although she sounded apologetic. She got back up and opened a bag of chips. “I just-” she paused and sighed, “I still don’t know what to do about Rick.”

“You promised you would try and not overthink it.” Declan groaned. “That’s why we’re sittin’ in this car, right?”

“I know, it’s just so hard to not think about it. Why can’t this shit be easy just once?”

Declan gave a dry laugh. “You askin’ me that.” he muttered and reached over to grab a handful of chips out of the bag that was sitting in his sister’s lap.

“Oh come on, you don’t have any reason to complain - whoa, careful, I don’t want no crumbs in my car! - you’re totally in the honeymoon phase with Samantha after all.”

“Shtill ain’t easy, though?” Declan spoke with his mouth full. “Shorry ‘bout the crumbsh.” he added.

“Everything’s easy in that phase. Being with Rick was so easy back then. We had the best times, I swear.” Orla recalled and smiled to herself at the thought of it.

“Uh. Can we not talk about your honeymoon phase with Rick, please?”

“Oh man, I wasn’t goin’ to go into detail.”

“Good. Chips.” Declan demanded.

Orla held the bag out to her brother. “It’s just that… I don’t know? I wish fate could give me some sort of a sign, y’know? Just a wee little clue, to point me into the right direction. Oh!” A thought crossed Orla’s mind and her face lightened up a bit. “I could really use that electronic crystal ball now. Remember? The one Ma bought me when I was a kid!”

“Aw yeah, that one had all the answers.” Declan laughed at the memory of the toy and a few of the situations the two of them had with it.

“It knew everything! My entire life depended on it! I made much better life choices when I still had it, believe me. I need it, I’m entirely fuckin’ helpless on my own!”

Still chuckling, Declan’s voice was now a little softer than before. “Just try and relax. ‘kay? You’ll figure it out eventually. Please, promise me that you will at least try to have a good time.”

Orla gave her brother a little smile and nodded.

Declan smiled back at his sister. “If all else fails, we’ll try and find you a new chrystal ball in Dublin.”

______________

“Sorry you’re stuck with only me again.” James said as he and Charlie walked their way to the pub they were supposed to meet Kieran’s siblings at.

“Ah, it’s fine. Kieran already said a few days ago that he might not make it before ten and I’m glad he at least managed to pick us up from the airport! Besides,” Charlie smiled at her best friend, “I like you. I think we’ve never been on vacation together, it was about time!”

“Yeah, I just kind of hate that I have to share you.” James admitted and he  looked around a bit while he was walking, hands in his pockets. Ever since he got out of the plane, he felt a little uncomfortable. He was used to large cityscapes and the streets of Dublin appeared comparably small to him. “Holy shit, everything’s so crammed. No wonder the people here look pissed as hell.”

“No, they look pissed ‘cause you got your ‘I’m better than you!’  face on.” Charlie sighed.

“Nah, that’s my ‘What the fuck was I thinking to come here?’  face.” he corrected her. “Saving the other one for later.”

“Okay, right, that’s it. Go home, I just got sick of you.”

“You keep sayin’ that, Chuck, and it never turns out to be true.”

“Don’t push your luck, one day it might?” Charlie smiled at him.

“Yeah, sure.” James smiled back. “Alright, what’s that little shithole we’re heading at called anyway?”

“The Beehive.”

“What the fuck, man!” James cackled. “Who on earth calls their bar ‘The Beehive’? Come on. They’re asking to be made fun of!”

“Yeah, you can tell that to the owner in a second!” Charlie pointed to a little blue bar at the corner. “There it is.”

James looked into the direction his friend was pointing at. When his eyes found found the pub, he grimaced. “It’s not even black and yellow!” he called out in mock bewilderment, gesturing at the building.

“That’s probably because beehives aren’t black and yellow?”

“Really? As far as I know you don’t get hammered in beehives either and yet here we are, standing in front of a fuckin’ pub called “The Beehive”.”

Charlie looked up at James and blinked. “Why are you like this?”

“Sorry, it’s the walls. They’re closing in.”

“Oh my god. One more word and you wait outside!”

“Come on, I ain’t no fuckin’ dog?” Seeing his friend’s expression and remembering her words a little earlier, ‘Don’t push your luck!’, James decided to behave, though. “Okay, sorry. Let’s get inside. I’ll be nice, I promise.”

“As if. Just promise you’ll try and not piss the two off within the first five minutes, okay?”

“I promise.” James bit his lip. “Sorry for bein’ a cunt.” he added.

Charlie knew James was being genuine now so she decided to let it go. She wasn’t mad at him anyway, just a little irritated. Meeting family members of boyfriends always made her nervous, and this time was no exception. “It’s fine. Just go.”

The two went inside and made their way through the pub, which was much bigger than it looked from the outside. ‘This place is truly crammed’, Charlie thought to herself. People were chatting, glasses were clinking as they were passing table after table and at some point, Charlie could hear a woman’s hoarse cackling and something inside her told her they were heading into the right direction. She peeked around the next corner and spotted two people with very familiar looking raven hair sitting at one of the tables.

Charlie was still trying to think of what she would say when the young man at the table looked up from the little house of cards in front of him. Apparently he had just figured out who she was ‘cause he smiled widely now and Charlie felt her stomach flutter a bit. ‘So the killer smile runs in the family.’ she thought to herself.

“You made it!” Declan exclaimed cheerfully and now the young woman, Orla, turned around on her seat as well and looked just as happy as her brother and Charlie couldn’t help but grin back and then the two launched themselves at her, greeting her like they had known her for years already.

In a way, that was true after all.

“Of course we made it! Wouldn’t have missed this for the world!” Charlie laughed.

“We? Who’s ‘we’?” Orla asked, looking confused.

“Well-” Charlie frowned and looked behind her and when she saw the vacant space that she assumed James to be standing in, she let out an exasperated sigh and let her shoulders drop. “Gimme a second, you two, okay?”

It turned out that looking for James wasn’t necessary, though, Charlie could hear the familiar deep voice the moment she was about to head back to the front part of the pub.

“Why thanks, mate, I’ll sure think of it next time!” James called over his shoulder, and the people he was shouting at roared with laughter. “Yeeaaaah, fuck you, too.” he mumbled, never losing his grin, before he turned around and looked at his friend again. “Sorry Chuck, apparently I got ‘stranger’ plastered upon my forehead, these bozos held me-”

Startled at the sight of the two tall strangers next to Charlie, James needed a second to recollect himself.

“-held me back. For a second.” he finished, his eyes now entirely caught by the young woman with the long dark mane who was looking right back at him, her smiling blue eyes wide and curious, and her red-tinted lips slightly parted in what seemed to be pleasant surprise.

“They-”

It didn’t happen often but right at this moment, James was lost for words. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“-they, uhm. I don’t even know what- what they wanted.” He blinked and suddenly realised that he was apparently blatantly staring at the her. ‘Oh shit.’ “Sorry. Hi! I’m- I’m James.” he eventually introduced himself.  

“Hi!” the woman now let out a hearty laugh. “I’m Orla.”

______________

Life sure is funny at times, Orla thought to herself.

When she had asked for a wee little clue earlier, to point her into the right direction regarding her decision whether to keep up her relationship with Rick or not, she had thought of a catchy newspaper headline, “ECONOMIC RECOVERY!”, or maybe even a manic street preacher, shouting out some ominous prophecies such as “The end is near!” but what she certainly didn’t have in mind was a six-foot-five, bespectacled Australian who had the most adorable laugh and probably the bluest eyes she had ever seen on a guy.

Kieran had mentioned James a few times before, dubbing him ‘the insufferably arrogant fucker with the funny accent’, and he had also mentioned that he would come along with Charlie this time. Judging by her brother’s descriptions and comments alone, though, Orla had already mentally prepared for dealing with a somewhat geeky little know-it-all. She certainly did not expect the handsome guy who was now sitting across her, smiling at her every so often and holding her gaze for a little while each time their eyes met, before turning to Charlie and Declan again who seemed to get along just fine on their own so they probably didn’t notice what was going on in her mind right now.

It was not like Orla hadn’t found other guys attractive before, even when her relationship was still all new and exciting. Orla had always loved the sight of a good-looking fella but that was already it, any time it happened. She would move on once she and the other guy went past each other but this time was entirely different. The thought of her and James sneaking out through the back door was awfully tempting and she couldn’t help but think about how it would feel like if she just pinned him to the next wall and had her way with him. It made her stomach flutter like she hadn’t felt it in a few years. She couldn’t do it just like that but she desperately wanted to and everything kept falling into place this evening and she could see things so clear right now that it made her wonder how she hadn’t realised it any sooner than now.

The thought of ending something just because it was no longer “new” and “exciting” had always put her off so far and Orla could never understand people who were willing to give up something safe and sound, just like that, just to relive the kick of being freshly in love while being perfectly aware that this particular feeling would fade again sooner or later. She had once made the mistake of ending a still young relationship that could’ve had potential if they had just tried and talked things through every once in a while, and it shattered her heart into a million pieces and she had sworn to herself to never let someone she loves go that easily again.

Spending time with James, Charlie and her brother like that however made her realise that the relationship with Rick hasn’t only cooled off - it had been heading nowhere for a long while now. She realised that they wanted different things and that they were at different points in their lives. They had the age gap that was sexy and exciting when it started and Rick made her feel secure and she would never not be happy about the great times they had. She realised that she was no longer willing to give up being twenty-four, though, while Rick had long settled into his comfortable thirty-nine year old life and she couldn’t even argue. She couldn’t argue when he rather wanted to stay home after a long day of work and she often found herself staying home with him because if that was the way they could spend their limited time together, it would be the way.

Orla missed being young and silly though. She missed getting tipsy with her friends. She missed the nights in the club, she missed the dancefloors and she missed the guys looking at her like James looked at her now. And it might have been just that, sure, but there was something else about him that completely drew her in. He seemed fun and easy to be with (A/N: Lol.) and Orla realised that she was dying to go on another adventure, albeit with someone else. If James would be the one she didn’t know yet but she sure wouldn’t mind giving it a try.

She had made her decision. She would spend the time in Dublin trying her best to keep things friendly and platonic for now and she would go home after the next week and break things off because it was the only fair thing to do. And then she would see what comes next.

______________

When Declan and Orla had left to get back to their hostel, James and Charlie remained sitting at their table; they had about an hour before Kieran would come and pick Charlie up and James would head back to his hotel. The twins had insisted on taking James around the town over the next few days and he had agreed although he didn’t quite know what he was getting himself into at this point. He could barely take his eyes off Orla this evening and it didn’t feel anything like he usually felt around any lady he found attractive. She had made him nervous. She had made him think of what to say and he didn’t want to leave an all too bad impression and he wasn’t used to feeling that way about someone.

“I’ll have another apple juice, please!” Charlie told the waiter and then she turned back to her friend. “So.”

“So.”

“What the heck was that about?” Charlie asked, still astounded by what she had seen happening all evening long, right at this table.

“Was… what about?” James replied, trying to look as confused as possible but of course Charlie would pick up on the circumstance of him barely saying any of the things he usually said in these situations.

“James. Please.”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” he tried again, feeling pretty ridicoulous for even making the attempt but he didn’t feel like having that kind of talk now.

“No? Not at all? Alright then, I’ll let go of it.”

“Thank you.”

“Man. I could’ve sworn…”

“Huh?”

“Nah, nevermind.”

James rolled his eyes. “You could’ve sworn what?”

“Oh nothing!” Charlie held up both her hands, as to play down the issue, but James knew it was a trick. She had never been good at this kind of stuff.

He smiled to himself. Just in a few moments from now, Charlie would make another incredibly subtle (read as: clumsy) attempt to bring the subject back up and he started counting backwards in his mind.

Ten, nine, eight…

“What a great evening, wow!”

Seven, six…

“These two are so funny, don’t you think?”

Five, four, three…

“I mean, I expected it somehow but it’s really cool now that it turned out to be true!”

Two, one…

“And, oh man, Orla’s gorgeous, right?!”

There we go.

“Oh, really now, Chuck? That’s all? Be a little creative at least.” James scoffed.

“Oh come on, just get it over with and say it. I know you better than anyone. You’ve been staring at her the whole evening and she was staring right back at you. And it wasn’t your usual hook-up-kinda-stare ‘cause I sure do know that one-”

“My what?!” James interrupted, raising an eyebrow, but Charlie ignored him.

“What was going on there?!” she now demanded to know.

“There was nothing going on!”

“James!”

“Oh well, what do you want me to say then?” James now called and people already turned around on their seats, looking at the two of them and James would’ve loved to just call out a heartfelt ‘What are you lookin’ at?!’ right back at them but he decided against it.

He took a deep breath instead. “Chuck? What am I supposed to say? Huh?”

“That you fell for her right on the spot! You know what? You don’t even have to say it. It was plain obvious.”

“So?”

“‘So?’ ?? Kieran said she has a boyfriend.”

“Then why the fuck are we even having this conversation?”

“Kieran also said that things aren’t looking that well and she came here to think everything through.” Charlie shrugged. “And from what I’ve seen this evening, that relationship might no longer be a problem.”

James just let out a dry laugh this time.

“I’m serious!” Charlie tried again. “Look, I get it, okay? Relationships are not your thing. I know. You told me a million times and I know you got so used to your Poor Troubled Boy persona at this point-”

“What was that?” It was almost a whisper; James stared at Charlie in disbelief, not quite knowing whether he should just get up and leave or brush that remark off with a laugh.

Charlie knew she had just gone too far. “Oh crap, I’m sorry, I-”

“No, it’s fine! Not like I don’t get you?”

“James, I’m sorry-”

“You’re happy, so everyone else has got to be happy as well? No matter what? Is that what you want? Maybe I should just, I dunno, how do you happy people call it, jump into it? Forget about everything that’s going on? About why I fuckin’ came here in first place, the thing I’m desperately trying to get my mind off? I got news for you, Chuck, I didn’t get my mind off it and I got an entirely new thing on my mind instead now which is just great because you and I both know how good I am at dealing with shit!”

“Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that comin’ out like it did.”

James let out a sigh. He knew Charlie didn’t mean any harm and he usually liked her occasional moments of sass but it was the wrong thing to say in the wrong moment. Still, he could tell she was feeling bad about it and he wasn’t mad at her. He was actually happy for her because she never had to look at these things from his perspective.

“I know you didn’t.”  

“You can’t blame me for wanting to see you happy, though?”

“I was!” James insisted. “I mean, I was on a good way, until that thing happened.”

Charlie now rolled her eyes. “Oh god, I know I’m not really in the position to be cranky with you right now but could you please stop calling it ‘the thing’? You’re going to be a father, just say it.”

“No?” James retorted, feeling a small wave of panic come up again.

“Calling it ‘the thing’ is not going to stop it from happening, James.”

“You don’t know that?”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at the tone James’ voice had taken now. She knew it wasn’t funny and seeing him struggle made her feel bad for him but sometimes he was nothing short of adorable. “I always loved how you can switch from ‘almost reasonable adult’ to ‘toddler’ within a second.”  

She now reached for his hand over the table.

“It’s a gift from the gods.”

For a few moments, the two merely looked at each other.

“Are we good?” Charlie now asked.

“We’re always good.” James said, squeezing Charlie’s hand a little before letting it go again. “And you’re right. She’s awesome, she’s fun, she’s fuckin’ gorgeous. And she’s everything I could ever dream of if I wasn’t, y’know, me.”

“You have such a noble mind, Hoffman.” Charlie mocked. “So it won’t trouble you at all, spending time with her the next week, just like that?”

“Not at all.”

“Good to know.”

______________

It was the best and the worst week that each James and Orla ever had to spend. There was hoping on both sides that it was just a little instant crush happening that last night, caused by the sheer surprise of the moment but it turned out that they still felt drawn to each other the next day and that the feeling grew stronger with every other day passing.

It was somehow a good thing that Declan happened to be around as well. James found the guy really entertaining and he was a fun distraction, for sure. He wondered whether he knew about his inofficial role as a chaperon and if he had maybe even willingly taken it or if he just somehow went along with the situation. He was sure good at keeping Orla and him from getting too close, though. He kept interrupting in the right moments and ruining the mood by saying these entirely weird things sometimes.

It was for the better and that way the week ended up being a very fun week at least. The three occasionally met up with Charlie and Kieran in the pub for an hour or two and James couldn’t help but feel entirely comfortable around the O’Connell siblings and it was something he felt about Orla from the first moment on. She was someone to come home to. She was like a fire and not the scorching and destructive kind of fire but the really warm and alluring kind. On top of that, she was outspoken, smart and fun, and he liked that she wasn’t afraid of making a fool out of herself which made her just as entertaining as her twin brother and so it happened that James fell in love just like that, like he had never expected he would and it felt amazing and terrible at the same time and on their last evening together, when Declan had just left, the two of them sat alone in the pub, only having eyes for each other but still somehow maintaining an appropriate distance.

“How come you don’t go by any nickname anyway?” Orla inquired, pulling another cigarette out of the package.

James watched her closely and while he didn’t care for smoking at all, Orla had some class, for sure. She probably wasn’t even aware of it herself but there was something so elegant about her that James couldn’t help but admire.

“’Cause all the nicknames for ‘James’ are bullshit.” he eventually said.

“Aw, don’t say that? I know a Jim and he ain’t too bad?” Orla took a drag, then grimaced. “Granted, I wouldn’t wanna sleep with him but I guess he’s nice enough?”

“My point exactly! The Jims in this world never get laid. Anyone think of a Jim and they automatically have that suburb dad type in mind. No one ever looks at a Jim, let alone a Jimbo, and be like ‘Sure, I’d blow him.’”

“You… put a lot of thought into that, didn’t you?” Orla raised an eyebrow.

‘Great. Keep talking like that. She’ll think of you as the worst creep ever.’ James thought to himself. ‘On the other hand -  that would kinda solve the problem here.’

“Nah, I’m just talkin’ shit to somebody I shouldn’t be talkin’ shit to.” James now smiled.

“I just based the likability of a person on whether I would sleep with them or not. Guess that’s just as shitty. I’m- I’m actually really not like that, believe me.” Orla laughed and she suddenly seemed a little nervous.

“We should probably drop the subject, anyway. Might give me ideas.”

Orla let out another nervous chuckle. “Oh. Really.”

‘Oh my god. I am officially the worst.’ “No! I mean. Yes? No, I mean. Fuck. It’s not just that. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna come off creepy.”

“You didn’t!” Orla replied quickly. “I was… I dunno, I was already wondering whether I was just seeing things the entire last week or-”

“No. No, you weren’t.” James took a ragged breath now. He could feel his heart beating really fast. “Thing is, if it wasn’t for the entire situation, I’d ask you out in a heartbeat.”

“Really?” Orla now smiled. It was one of her warm smiles James liked so much. Almost a bit shy, which made it even more adorable.

“Of course. Seriously, what’s not to love?”

“Well, I think I do have to take care of something first, once I’m back home…?” Biting her lip, Orla looked down at her glass, then back up at James. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not just that, actually. Honestly, I wouldn’t even think twice if it was just that.”

“Oh wow, you seemed like a decent fella until now? Orla now joked.

“Trust me. I’m not.” James smiled right back at her.

“Ah, cue the ‘I’m not good enough for you!’ speech. Bring it on, I’m dying to hear it. Don’t make it too sappy, though. Keep it authentic, then I’ll enjoy.”

She had just done it again - James couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “I’m definitely not good enough but no. No speech. It’s just that I got shit on my mind as well. It’s some really weird shit and I just- I dunno, I just can’t. Not yet, not right now, maybe not ever.”

“Okay? But… if it wasn’t for that weird shit… you would…”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’d definitely want to.”

“Well then. Maybe we should loosen you up a little the next time we meet.” Orla teased. “You might want to swap that Soda for a beer or two.”

“Ah. Guess not.”

“You don’t drink? Like, never?”

“Used to. Never liked the aftertaste.”

“Oh well, whatever strikes your fancy, eh?” Orla smiled and James was relieved that she apparently didn’t get the true meaning of the statement.

Orla now looked up to the clock over the bar. “Okay, so it’s almost eleven… I think they’re about to close and I should probably get some sleep anyway. I’ll be the one driving home, so…”

James merely nodded and called the waiter to their table. He paid the bill for the two of them and they got up and left the bar. It was pretty cold outside and Orla buttoned up her coat.

“So, this is a temporary goodbye then?” she smiled up at James.

“Come on. Like you’re gonna walk the way back to the hostel alone. I don’t think so?”

“Declan did?”

“Declan is tall and scary.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Orla sounded amused.

“Look, I’d really feel better if you didn’t walk that way back all by yourself.”

“Oh, no no no, don’t think I don’t dig your little moment of chivalry? Gives me some more time with you after all!”

“That’s the spirit.”

The two walked the way back together and it wasn’t a long way but, as Orla had said, it gave them a bit more time. Only a bit but it was better than nothing at all.

“Here we are.” Orla now shrugged. “I guess I could’ve walked this way all by myself. No scary guys in bushes, waiting to launch themselves at me.”

“The creeps are still there, they just got better at hiding.” James replied, taking his hands out of his pockets.

“You’re adorable. Thinking the world is out to get you and all.”

“I hate to burst your bubble but the world is out to get you. You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I’ve seen.”

“You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I have seen and heard either. It’s not like I don’t know what Kieran does for a living?” Orla replied. “I just don’t wanna live like that, y’know. Thinking about what could happen all the time. I could never leave my apartment again, let alone find some joy in life.”

“Alright, I know. I wasn’t tryin’ to be a smartass or somethin’.” James laughed. “I’m glad you left your apartment.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“My offer still holds, y’know. Come back soon, loosen up and give me a call.”

Half serious, half joking, Orla looked up at James and took a step forward. They were pretty close now, facing each other.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“So it’s really goodbye for now.” Orla bit her lip again.

“Guess it is. Just for the record and in case I haven’t told you yet… I had a great time.” James now smiled really sweetly at her and Orla’s heart skipped a beat.

“So did I.” she said softly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

For being you. For letting me be me. “Just… thank you. Okay? We’re having a moment here, don’t ruin it.”

“You’re talkin’ about having a moment and I’m not even getting a hug now?”

“Yeah, well… I might not just.. hug you.”

“Oh, I see.” Pressing her lips into a thin line, Orla nodded, apparently understanding the issue but in the next moment, she was lightly tugging at the hem of his shirt. “You know what? I think I can take that risk.”

“Oh thank god.” James smiled again and now leaned in for that kiss he couldn’t have put off for very much longer at this point anyway and Orla returned it and for a minute or maybe five, there were no things on their minds but the thing that was just happening right here between them and when they eventually parted, Orla gave James another smile before she turned around and walked inside and he remained standing there, making sure she would get inside safely, looking up at the few windows that were still lit, secretly hoping she would give him a last look and feeling silly for the thought alone but he didn’t quite care.

He knew he would go back to being his good old self in a bit and pick up his somewhat messed-up-again life very soon but for a moment, for a really short little moment, his world had shined in the brightest colours and he would take the moment with him because man, did it feel great.

***

[eldritchsurveys]

o12.

Have you ever sold anything online either on Craigslist, eBay, Amazon, etc.? If not, what is your website of choice like any of the above for buying things? >> Nope. My website of choice for buying things is Amazon, I guess, just because it’s easy and they have so much shit. If the opportunity arose, would you ever go to a nude beach? Do you think you’d be comfortable enough, being naked among others like that? >> Yeah, I’d try it. I suppose it couldn’t be all that bad, if everyone else is nude too. Levels the playing field, and all. But I wouldn’t want to like... sit on stuff butt-naked. Like, that’s the main thing that bothers me about just walking around nude -- I don’t want to put my unprotected parts on stuff, bruh. So... yeah, I guess I wouldn’t stay long for that reason. At least let me put some bikini bottoms on or something, damn. What was the last book you read? What about the book drew you to want to read it (plot, title, cover…)? Did you end up liking it? >> Dune Messiah. What drew me to it is that it’s the second book in the series I’ve dedicated myself to reading, so it was just the logical progression. I did indeed like it. Have you ever considered keeping a dream journal? If you have one, have you ever looked back on it at all of the odd/interesting dreams you used to have? >> I try to keep one, but my dream recall is very sporadic and unpredictable. Sometimes I look back at what I do have, yeah. Do you think regifting is cheap, or is it okay? Have you ever regifted before? >> I wholly approve of regifting. I think it makes more sense to give something to someone who will actually use or appreciate it, rather than hanging onto something just because... what, someone gave it to me? Like, I appreciate being given the gift, because the thought really does count to me, but if I’m not going to use the thing, then why would I let this perfectly good object go to waste just collecting dust in the closet or something when I can give it to someone who’ll actually enjoy it???? LOGIC

How often do you wash your hair? What do you think when you hear of some people not washing their hair for weeks at a time? Is it healthier, as they claim? >> Every couple of weeks or so. --Well, seeing as I’m one of those people, I don’t think much of anything, because it’s normal to me. I don’t care, this is what works for me and I’m going to keep doing it until something else works better. Do you think President Obama should stay in office, or is it time for a new president? >> Damn, bruh. In general, do you like/get along with your mother’s or your father’s side of the family more? >> --- Have you ever seen an animal give birth? Have you ever had a pet give birth before? >> Yeah, and not my pet but my friend’s pet. I’ve also seen a cat eat its kittens! It was very enthralling. What do your plans usually consist of on Christmas morning? Are they the same this year? >> These past two Christmases I was at Sparrow’s parents’ house, and I guess the first time it was novel and exciting, but the second time I was way over the performative-ness and those people and just... blaaagh. But I assume I’ll be doing the same thing this year, probably day-drinking and trying not to talk to anyone. Do you like iPads/tablets or laptops more? E-readers or books? >> I mean, I use my laptops almost exclusively. And when it comes to books, I really don’t give a damn, man. I use both at my leisure. If you don’t get much snow where you live, do you wish you did get more snow? If you do get snow where you live, do you get a lot? Do you like snow? >> Enough snow falls in West Michigan that I am usually quite sick of it by March or so. Also, winter has a habit of outstaying its welcome to a depressing degree, so by May I want to die. LMAO. --In general, yeah, I like snow, but like... moderation, man. If men could get pregnant too, would abortion still be as big an issue as it is? >> Hm. What is something you want to try to accomplish within the next year? >> I’m not sure. Have you ever had to “come out” to your parents about anything (sexual orientation, change in religion, etc.)? How did it go? >> I tried to explain being trans to my father once, lmao. It was actually pretty funny, because I was like, explaining hormone replacement therapy to him, and he was just like “.... hunh.” Like I think he was mostly just confused, lmao. But I mean, in general, I’m an adult. I don’t have to tell him anything about my life if I don’t want to, so it’s not a big deal. Do you ever get drunk by yourself? >> Yeah. Who else am I supposed to get drunk with, besides the people in my head? But I’m mostly over getting drunk, anyway. I mostly just drink until the light buzz now, and then stop there. I’m still thinking about whether getting ritualistically drunk (with Wednesday, for example) is a thing I want to continue... I’m not sure yet. I think if I do, it’ll only be with specific drinks (like maybe this 1000 Stories wine, which I still think he put into my hand in the first place), to further emphasise the ritual boundaries and also to control it a little (liquor is temperamental and the delayed release doesn’t help either, but wine is easier to control). Has there ever been a time where you’ve forgotten something extremely important? >> I mean, yeah, sure. Describe the last time you were infuriated. >> Infuriated... I feel like the last time I felt that way was because of some bullshit in the PixelCount Discord. That’s why I left that shit, I got tired. What’s the most unusual kind of pizza you’ve ever tried? >> I’m not sure. If you were given the chance to decorate an entire house the way you wanted, with no limit to cost, how would you decorate it? >> I’d need some time to think about that. If you could have any kind of lava lamp, what kind would you have? >> Any kind? I’ve never had one at all. What movie do you know by heart? >> I used to know Labyrinth pretty much backwards and forwards, but my last rewatch was a long while ago. I need to get back on that train. I know the songs of The Prince of Egypt pretty well, and some of the dialogue. I used to be good with The Crow but it’s been a long time for that one, too. Has there ever been a time where you thought you were going to be great friends with someone, but it just never happened? >> I don’t think so. What’s one of your favorite things to touch/feel? >> Certain kinds of stuffed animal fur. How often do you wear tights? >> I don’t. If you had to choose, what’s the most important thing in your life at the moment? >> I don’t like to rank things like this. Do you have Netflix? >> I do. How much money would you have to spend before you felt really guilty about spending that much? >> Hell, I feel guilty about spending $2 at Redbox (”but I can just wait until it’s on Netflix, or pirate it!!! this is a Waste” shut the fuck up, goblin brain, life is short). Has there ever been anything you’ve become interested in much later than other people? >> Yeah, lmao. I’m kinda slow sometimes. Why is your favorite TV show your favorite? >> LOL I keep forgetting to mention Metalocalypse as a favourite, too, but man, my feels about that show are legion. I love it because it’s hilarious, but also because I really actually care about this silly fucking death metal band and their longsuffering manager and the Doomstar that will herald their ascension and... just everything. I love that show so fucking much and I miss it every day of my life. Grey’s Anatomy is my favourite because it really hits me in the feels, like... I don’t cry about a lot of things but I’ve cried at half the Grey’s episodes I’ve seen. It just really does humanity well... like, it has some of the most honest and compassionate writing that I’ve ever seen. It’s an utterly amazing and heartfelt and joyful and sorrowful show and I’m so glad I started watching it. Person of Interest is my favourite because... wow. Again, amazing writing, just amazing. Such complex and emotional characters, and the whole Machine thing is just... right up my alley, man. An artificial superintelligence learning to truly appreciate humanity for what it is, like... I don’t know. I don’t know. It hits me right in the gut. I still get choked up about the ending of that show. God. Describe your favorite picture of yourself, or post it. >> I don’t have a single favourite photo. Is there a genre of music that some people would be surprised that you enjoy? >> Probably not, if they know anything about me. Assuming you have a Facebook, if one of your friends posted things that annoyed you, would you be more likely to delete them as a friend, hide their statuses, or just put up with it? >> I’d hide their statuses for a while, but if it got so I was never looking at their page, I’d just unfriend them. What’s the point, then? Have you ever had a veggie burger? >> Of course. Do you like candles? >> Yep. What’s your favorite video game? >> Pillars of Eternity, Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls, Guitar Hero, the list goes on. What was something you liked about today? >> Fuckin H O T GATORADE, god. fucking... god. LMFAO. When was the last time you passed out? >> I don’t know. Do you think “friends with benefits” relationships could ever possibly work without anyone getting hurt? >> I’m sure someone’s gotten it to work. Like, it’s a big world out there. Do you wear more sweatshirts or jackets? >> Hoodies. What was the last thing you had to drink? >> I had like half a Backwoods Bastard. I didn’t even finish it, it’s still on my desk. When was the last time you wore a sports bra? >> The last time I went out. When was the last time you went to a water park? >> Never. Does your best friend live close to you? >> --- Have you ever rode a train? >> I’ve ridden many a train. Where did you get the shirt you’re currently wearing? >> I’m just wearing an undershirt. This Night Vale hoodie used to be Sparrow’s. When was the last time you played Rock Band? With whom? >> It’s been a while. I usually play Guitar Hero because the guitar controller is more compatible with it. There’s a slight difference in how shit registers on Rock Band that messes me up a lot, and I haven’t felt like dealing with it. But I miss the RB songs, so I might try to make it work at some point. Maybe I just need to calibrate my shit. What was the last thing that you ate? >> A pack of those Captain’s Wafers crackers. The peanut butter and honey ones, the best kind!!!! I’m so glad I finally found a Meijer that sells the boxes, goddamn, finally. Who last messaged you on Facebook? >> Uh... probably my cousin Kythe, with another fucking chain IM thing. I’m about to block her ass, lmfao. What were you doing Saturday at 1:30 pm? >> I don’t remember. The last time you were intoxicated, what were you drinking? >> Mango-pineapple vodka and orange juice. It’s so delicious, too, and that’s the fucking problem -- I drink it because it tastes good, and next thing you know... Who last walked you home? >> --- What do you do to help your face from breaking out? >> Wash it. It takes care of the rest on its own. Did you make any new friends lately? If so, what are their names and how did you meet them? >> --- Would you rather see your favourite band/artist in concert with 2 other people or have a free $20,000 shopping spree to Walmart? >> What on earth am I going to buy at Walmart for that much money, lmao... I’d rather spend that kind of money somewhere else, so I guess I’d take the concert. I’d choose a band that doesn’t come to the US often. >:3 When was the last time you went out to eat? >> When I was in Chicago. On a scale of 1-10, how anxious are you currently? >> Er... 1? What kind of music do you listen to? >> The audible kind. What does your perfect day consist of? >> Meh. Do you have any online friends? >> Whatever friends I do have are online. Would you dye your hair red? >> Sure. If your ex wanted to take you back, would you say yes? >> I mean, that’s basically what happened innit lmao :B How is the weather? >> I don’t know, mild, I guess.