#edit tag: am having the worst fucking day of my entire lifee and am expected to fucking write 1.5k words today and update an ongoing ff ???

[rewritingcanon]

nanowrimo absolutely wiping the floor with me

[piratefalls]

welcome back to the latest edition of biweekly fic recs! as always, mind the tags, if you can't leave a nice comment don't leave one at all, and happy reading!

masterlist.

There's No Problem That San Diego Can't Solve by @historicallysam

Alex doesn’t even bother knocking; he simply twists the knob on the door and shoves it open. His eyes narrow as the door bangs against the wall and he sees Henry on the phone. Maybe (definitely) it’s rude but his blood is fucking boiling so he doesn’t really care.

All the Ocean was Sleeping by @sparklepocalypse

The worst part about being a siren in the modern era, Henry ponders as yet another ship flies past his cove at a speed that he knows will disturb the anemone gardens below, is the yacht bros. Between the sound of their vessels’ motors and the dissonant noise the humans call music, Henry’s singing has no chance of attracting anyone’s attention.

cause you're a classic, and i'm reckless by @firenati0n

“I've, actually, uh. I've never done this before.” At this, Henry stops short, takes a second as his gaze moves up and to the left, trying to recall something. “I've seen your films. You most certainly have done intimate scenes.” Alex clears his throat. He hopes his nerves aren't completely obvious, the slight waver in his voice about to give him away. “Yeah, well. Never with a man, so. Not at this scale, anyway.” “Would it help to, er, practice?" Henry winces a little as he says it, which does not inspire confidence. But Alex is shocked nonetheless. What the fuck?

Over Land and Sea by SatinBirds

Alex and Henry come from very different worlds, and still, they manage to find each other.

Clean Slate by smc_27

“Henry.” Pez comes over, puts both hands on Henry’s cheeks and looks him dead in the eye. “You are not a sad man who’s gotten dumped. You’re in the prime of your life, and I quite desperately need you to act like it.” “The prime of my life,” Henry scoffs, more incredulous than questioning. “I’ve just gotten out of a 15 year relationship, endured a divorce, am suffering an almost impressive case of writer’s block, and your hands are like bloody icicles.” Pez grins, doesn’t take his hands away. “Explain to me how this is my prime. Please.” Pez tilts his head, and sounds entirely serious when he says, “Literally anything can happen from here.”

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

here is a map (with your name for a capital) by @alasse9

That day at the Rio de Janeiro Olympics, Alex comes across the very same Prince Henry who just dismissed him having a panic attack in a bathroom. The choice Alex makes then has ripple effects neither of them could have ever expected. What's the story like, when they actually are friends all along? “So, you’re going back to England tonight, and you’ll spend the next three days pretending you two are the closest and best of friends until we can put this mess behind us.” And there are reasons he hasn’t told anybody this, good reasons, even though he’s sure June and Nora saw through him ages ago. Faced with his mom’s disappointment, though, and with the realization that the entire world apparently thinks he hates Henry and would willingly shove him into a fucking cake, he can’t stay quiet. “But we are friends,” he says, vehement and serious. “We have been for years. He’s—he’s probably my best friend, actually, along with Nora.”

thoughts of you consume by yrsonpurpose

Henry sees Alex appear on the red carpet in a blue suit that screams sex on legs and is ready to throw away all attempts at concealing their secret relationship in the name of dropping to his knees at the first available opportunity.

eyes on me by matherine

Alex’s hips buck back against Henry’s mouth the moment his tongue does more than tease, and Henry squeezes his hip in gentle consternation. But before he can say anything, Alex is already rambling. “Sorry, I’m — I’m sorry, I know you said not to move, and I’m trying, I — I’m trying to be good, I promise,” he blurts, voice shaking ever so slightly from something that certainly doesn’t sound like pleasure, resolutely refusing to turn his head so that he can meet Henry’s gaze from where he’s positioned behind him. Henry’s heart aches. “Alex — love, it’s alright. Where’s your mind?” Or: Sometimes, Alex needs a distraction. Something to take the edge off, to scrub away at the stress of the day. Some days, it works better than others. 

the evolution of intimacy by Poutini

There’s no spontaneity anymore. One might think this boring. That the novelty had worn off. The spark snuffed. Absolutely not

Want Me by OrchidScript

Henry had always been weak for a nice smile, but his was impossible to ignore. Blame it on summer heat and a fresh flush in his cheeks. Blame it on sunset painting the outdoor bar sweltering, romantic colors. Blame it on two healthy glasses of albariño thrumming in his bloodstream, or the good music floating on the air. Henry could blame it on anything liked if he thought long and hard about it, but that didn’t change much at the end. The core remained the same: he had been gone from the jump. -- Henry and Alex hook up on a vacation in Spain. Henry falls a bit deeper.

fill my lungs with sweetness by @priincebutt

Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor wakes up at 3 AM on his birthday to an empty bed. What could Alex possibly be getting up to at 3 AM the night before his birthday? The possibilities are endless.

got myself in quite a tangle by coffeecatsme

"It seems I've gotten myself in quite a tangle." "Tangle?" Henry's voice is hoarse, eyes darkened as they travel over Alex's body. They stop at his crotch, and Alex can see it even under the dim lights—Henry's growing hard too, a visible bulge pushing at his sweatpants. Alex's cock gives a desperate twitch. "Y'know, I was trying to put them around the tree," he starts, gesturing at the plain tree at the corner. It's clear he didn't even attempt to touch it. "And somehow I've managed to completely trap myself. Can't even move my hands." Henry makes a desperate noise at the back of his throat as his eyes snap up to Alex's face. Alex flashes him a suggestive grin, teeth biting down on his lip. "Seems I'm completely at your mercy."

The Forces of Chance and Coincidences by @stellarm

Bad weather leads to a late flight that leads to no one being where they wanted to be, but maybe everyone was where they needed to be.

I've never felt safer (than when I'm with you) by viciouslyqueer

Alex takes the bag and opens it slowly, careful not to rip it, and gasps quietly as he sees what’s inside. “H, you didn’t…” Strong arms wrap around his waist from behind, Henry’s chest warm against his back. “Do you like it?” Henry asks in a whisper, resting his chin on Alex’s shoulder. Alex doesn’t know what to say. Gingerly, like he might ruin it with even the smallest touch, he takes out the silky fabric and holds it up in front of them. It’s a gorgeous dress, fancy too, in a deep red color with thin straps and an open back. It’s long, almost touching the floor even as Alex holds it up and has a slit on the left side that would probably end a little above Alex’s knee.

An Amateur's Guide to Professional Gift-Giving by anincompletelist

Alex, a former-law-student-taking-some-time-off turned professional part-time gift giver, is tasked with finding a gift for the most high profile client he's ever worked with, both in and out of the world of law. It turns out finding the perfect gift for the Prince of Wales might be easier than he'd anticipated.

Love At First Bark by everwitch

“I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

don't let me get drunk again by headabovethewater

Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass. Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.

The Beginner's Guide to Floristry by clottedcreamfudge

As if there's anything romantic about it; as if it's not the most humiliating death Alex can imagine. This is why he doesn't do relationships. This is why he never will. The risk, as far as he fucking sees it, is too great. -- Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible.

Everything you take, you make it better. So go on, take forever by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

It's 2024, and nobody knows they're engaged. But they will, just as soon as Alex can decide what to wear to his birthday dinner. Henry has an idea and a special gift to match.

false pretenses by rizcriz

Henry spins around, glaring at Alex. “For christs sake,” He hisses, holding a hand out between them. “Can we just not? I do not have the capacity to pretend to hate you today.” Alex splutters as Henry turns on his heel and starts to walk away. He stares after him helplessly. “Pretend?” After a beat, he starts to follow after him, “What the fuck do you mean pretend?” Three years of breathing down each others necks, fighting every time they come in contact with each other. And if Henry is saying every single thing on his end has been pretend, Alex Claremont-Diaz is going to have a fucking breakdown. Because he has been harboring this stupid fucking crush and burying it beneath false antagonism, meeting Henry where he’s at, for three years, and if Henry is implying that they’re both faking it— -- or, Alex learns better.

turn the desert to glass (you would be the one) by @taste-thewaste

Henry and Alex's domestic bliss has lead to some changes in Henry's body. Henry doesn't really mind being a little chubby, but he wonders if Alex does. Alex, it turns out, does not. Not one bit. He does not mind one bit, and he is more than eager to prove it.

coming on fast like good dreams do by cricketnationrise

When Henry recovers from his unexpected factory reset, he still can’t really breathe properly and somehow Alex is still standing in front of him with a hopeful and excited expression on his face. “Run that by me again?” he asks faintly. “I need your help.” “Right…” “I need you to edge me. Like a lot,” Alex says with a shrug. Nope, it’s not any clearer a second time around.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists, whether you're a reader or writer!

tagging @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift @enablelove

[rinadragomir]

I fully understand your feelings about not being able to say that you liked Chain of Thorns, even if it’s only a little bit because I feel the same way. People are allowed to have hated the book, dislike the book, feel meh about it, like the book, love the book, or have whatever feelings towards the book that they want, but when it’s gotten to the point where the people who enjoyed the book feel like they can’t say anything, that’s a problem. The people of this fandom are the reason that I stay out of it and don’t come near it. I create my own person bubble, and I am perfectly content there.

Me, I’m personally someone who loved the book, but that’s because I threw out any theories or expectations that I had prior to reading it. Like sure, I had them, but I knew I had to go in with an open mind, just like I do every book I read, whether it’s part of a series or not. Was the book perfect? No, what book is? (The day a book is considered perfect is the day that I win the lottery). For me, however, I was satisfied with it. I couldn’t put it down, and when I can’t put a book down, that tells me that it’s something that I will love the rest of my life. The only expectation that I had of Cassie was for her to give me a book that I enjoyed, and she gave me that. Point blank.

Nonono I'm not afraid to say I loved Chain of Thorns. Like GUYS🤌🏻 if I'll make a post where I'm complimenting this book AND ANY OF YOU DECIDE TO FUCKING SEND HATE?! - YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD🔪 I'm gonna bully you for the rest of my days, you'll regret even thinking about sending hate

The thing is: I don't feel like posting about chot AT ALL🤷🏼‍♀️ I'm trying to make edits, reblog sth interesting I find on my dash sometimes, but I refuse to go through any TSC tags, especially Chain of Thorns (cause someone can make a hate post about for example Lucie and then casually use #tmi #tid #tda. The dander is everywhere)

I thought I was strong enough to make positive content by myself, I know there are people who wanna enjoy a fun Tumblr experience just like me and I really want to give them such an opportunity. But I literally can't find any motivation or strength to start it. The hate wave was just TOO OVERWHELMING.

I was online 24/7 the first week after chot was released and it was the worst post-book online experience in my life😮‍💨 You read sth -> you open Twitter/Tumblr to see people's reaction on this scene -> you see hate. You wanna chat with your moots about certain scene you liked -> you text them -> you see "yes but you know what I hated about it-". And i was going through this for more than a week. I was hoping sth might change. But nothing changed.

It doesn't matter how much you like something, if it's surrounded by SO MUCH HATE DAILY - you simply can't be as excited as you were in the beginning ;-;

People are allowed to express their opinions, react to sth, even if their reaction is posting hate daily for the entire month☝🏻 (but if you think sending hate to the author is okay - there's sth wrong with you, you need professional help). And no one is allowed to stop them, they're not doing anything illegal! But my mistake was that I ALLOWED them to ruin MY exciting experience. So I'm not making the same mistake twice. My choice - to avoid anything that can make me feel bad.

[majicmarker]

so i’ve had a lot on my mind lately — the good, the bad, the ugly, you know the drill. i’m used to the bad and the ugly, but i think (and ofc by my therapist’s rec) i need to give a little credit to the good, too. not to mention the good is largely comprised of people, and those people deserve a sports stadium wave, yk? idk shit abt sports, whatever, but i know what the wave is and it’s like the grandest gesture i can think of, SO

listen, y’all. to get real here, i hate fandom. my time spent therein has been hit-or-miss, but the misses got me hard and contributed to some major self-loathing, etc etc. we’re not gonna get into the specifics, i don’t owe that to anyone, but suffice it to say things got Rough.

but so much of it can be so, so good. and rn i want to keep on my rose-colored glasses, and the rosiest parts for me have always been @kitten1618x and @mygutsforgarters

(quite a few others, too, but i no longer have everyone’s info. and some ppl are newer friends, or relationships that have moved more slowly. i have mad love for u guys too, obvs, but ik melissa and gus irl so we know each other More and they’re who this post is rly about atm. pls know i don’t want to harsh on anyone’s feelings)

the tl;dr version of events is i met them both via fanfic. i happened upon theirs like “bitch!!!! **i** wanna do this, they’re bomb as hell” and then i made them be friends w me. they’ll tell you they wanted to be friends w me first, but that’s not important bc **i** am the one making this post, so they can both like,, suck it.

ANYWAY.

@ melissa : so bitch listen. here’s the thing abt melissa…… i found her while browsing jonsa fic back when i cared abt GOT, and she brought me back to what i loved so much abt romance when i first started, way back in junior high, what’s up. i bad a fascination w historial romantic epics for a loooooong time — those formative yrs, amirite ladies??? — but girl i could never write it so well as melissa. immediately she struck this balance between the drama you expect from historicals and the levity of a good romance, and i was just like, “hand to god this woman must be published already, surely???”

(she’s not, but that’s ridiculous so we’re gonna skip that)

(also she’s busy?? we’ve been friends for like six years and i will never know how many kids she actually has, but the point is she’s a goddamn superhero and i’m obsessed w her, MOVING ON)

i just Had to be her friend for two reasons: 1) she’s too talented, and b) i have said that abt 2 ppl my entire life and she was the first, so i was like, “AH YES MY HOLY GRAIL”

so ofc i slid into her DMs just as effectively as that one guy i had a crush on when i was sixteen and he’s still shooting me texts every valentine’s day bc of the societal pressures i guess (it is Far Less Effective these days, he’s my age and therefore too young for me, gross, but i digress), except me and melissa go way stronger.

she reminded me of why, half a lifetime ago, i started writing romance — bc it’s fun, bc i want to. bc i can do absolutely anything i want, bc who else is gonna read it but me and whoever i share it with? it was all up to me what i wanted to do with it, and i could do anything. nothing really mattered but what i wanted, and i hadn’t felt that way abt anything in such a long time — let alone abt something i used to love so much.

melissa’s writing is so beautiful, it’s everything i wanted to achieve when i was fifteen and never got around to perfecting. and i’m totally okay w that now, bc what do i need to do myself that she’s not already doing/wants to do in the future? when i found melissa’s writing i found a missing part of me — a part i’d maybe lost, maybe i gave it up, idk, but it was totally gone until i found her fics and they fucking clicked. i had to reach out bc there was a part of me that was a part of her, and she helped me find that again w/o even knowing it.

so i found melissa via GOT, and from the start she’d been trying to get me to write some bethyl. years and years, she dropped not-so-subtle hints — and by “hints,” i mean legit directives that i watch just enough TWD to write her some beth/daryl fic. real crafty, she is.

eventually the stars aligned: i was bored w the same dynamics i’d been writing for years, i wanted smthn new, i was restless, i was line editing a bethyl fic she’d written, and — again — this shit clicked. her fic made me want to explore this dynamic i’d never done before, so i watched the prerequisite episodes (no more than that tho, i super hate the show and i’m begging y’all to not @ me abt it anymore). i found smthn that i’d been missing, smthn that challenged and excited me and brought me back around to why i love romance and, more importantly, why i want to write it myself.

so as i was starting to write bethyl, i was poking around the ao3 tag to get a feel for what had been done, what hadn’t, anything i might be missing. and goddamn BAM —

@ gus : this is where u enter dramatically thru a red velvet curtain that i don’t wanna touch (Metaphorically bc you do romance better than me and i’m cool w that bc your talent simply Cannot be touched, and Literally bc i hate velvet) — i was like, “please for the love of god let her want to write contemporary romance, i need some good fckin food”

i happened upon “doo wah diddy diddy” first. ofc the summary hooked me, forget my usual hard no against pregnancy fics (i have issues w pregnancy and that’s all anybody Needs to know, back off), but This Bitch !!!!!!! has a way with words and i wanted to be friends w her straightaway. lmao too bad for her, now she’s stuck w me

gus’s fics gave me what i wanted without having to write it myself. her style is so distinctive, she hits the notes between porn and Actual Affection that is missing from uhhhh, every romance i’ve tried?? (why is everyone so intent on the sex part?? fckin chill. at best it’s unrelatable and at worst u sound like u’d rather wear someone than fuck them, check urself)

she writes w such care, she wants you to know what she’s doing here, and what she’s doing here is combining the physical and emotional needs of both characters w/o infringing on anyone’s comfortability. you root for these characters bc they simply want to be together, no strings (and if there are strings, damn, they talk abt it).

gus makes you believe in love in the modern age. like, not to sound like one of those ppl who post fckin “no one in this generation knows how to love!!!1!!11!!” memes on facebook, those are dumb, but gus’s writing made me think “yeah man, love ain’t dead, it’s just abt how we approach it.”

(if y’all haven’t guessed yet, i have some hang-ups abt relationships. i’ve goddamn earned those. but melissa and gus both brought me back to where i needed to be — in this place where, yeah, we’ve got some shit to deal with, but we all still deserve the things we want, and those things are achievable. i could not have gotten here without them, so jot that down.)

gus is Real, she’s funny, she’s unapologetic in the way she writes. ofc she has her personal hurdles, but who doesn’t?? and tbh nobody writes a sex scene like gus does. physical, realistic, but balanced w the emotional depth that makes you root for these characters bc you can Feel how much they want each other — not just sexually, but in the less-erotic aftermath of that passion. it continues to blow my mind, bc i’ve never seen anyone do what she does. i can’t even pinpoint the specifics, bc she just… Does It. and you’re reading it like “yeah bitch that’s it,” and That’s It.

it’s fckin wild.

these two — my best friends, the lights of my life, both of whom always make me crave chicken tenders at THE most inconvenient hours bc somehow we always talk abt chicken or ice cream or ultimately DQ, but they're both so hot idec — have something special.

i really, really want them both to know that: it’s not just in how they’ve treated me as a friend, but who they are as people, in their creative pursuits. i’ve never known support the way they’ve shown me; i’ve never known this much enthusiasm or investment or belief that i can do what i want with my talent. i want them to know that i feel the same way abt them and their works.

sometimes, when i look back at their writing that completely kicked my ass, i still can’t believe that they’ve become two of my best friends. it’s totally bonkers. they’re This Talented, and they wanna be friends w my spastic ass? GIRL. i’m out.

i’m not always the best at being present, at giving people what they need when they need it. but with everything that melissa and gus have given me in the past few years, i need them to know this — honey!!! i need all y’all to know this, bc i know fandom shit is hard, but you should know some of these friendships are so, so worth all that bullshit, so —

they have so much to give, so much to say, so much to offer. i could not have kept going without them. i couldn’t believe in myself without the faith they’ve given to me. i hope that i can always give that same faith right back.

and that, babes, is what real soulmates are all about.

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

04: CHOCOLATE

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: real life, my dudes, it’s real life. (well, after a lil texting sequence.) writing drew is actually hard, believe it or not, and i edited this chapter right after finishing chapter 14 -- and the difference is huge. i’m really excited! as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and tell me what you thought!

read on wattpad

previous part |  series masterlist

drewstarkey | 10:53am Hey! I’ll be running a little late, so meet you at quarter past noon?

addisonmallory | 11:07am That's okay, I would’ve been late, too lol

drewstarkey | 11:08am Okay cool so it’s not just me hahah

addisonmallory | 11:09am Nope, I’ve got a reputation ngl

drewstarkey | 11:11am Let’s see who’s the worse one, then 😂

addisonmallory | 11:14am It’s on 😎

◇

It takes all in Addie to keep Marianne from tagging along. If the French-Brit is anything, it’s stubborn and persistent, which Addie claims to be the worst two stereotypical traits she could’ve picked up from the two cultures – and they both know she’s right.

  ‘I won’t bother you,’ says Marianne, looking at Addie through her rose-tinted sunglasses. ‘I’ll just be behind you. You won’t even know I’m there!’

  Addie sighs and leans sideways against the doorway. Marianne’s foot is blocking the door from closing, and this is all dragging out way beyond rational.

  ‘Marianne, I’m going there for literally five minutes. It’s not a big deal.’

  ‘He’s a famous actor.'

  ‘He’s not even that famous. I met him in a fucking Tesco, Marianne!’

  The look she receives for that statement is scorching – but the edge in the girl’s eyebrow relaxes, and Marianne gives way to one of her quiet sighs. ‘Fine. Whatever. Go have fun.’

  ‘Thanks,’ says Addie; a weak attempt to keep the bitter tone at bay.

  The door shuts with a bang – she waits until she hears faint footsteps disappearing into the heart of the apartment. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Marianne, but the girl usually lives in her own world and tends to disregard the common notions of what would be okay in a situation like this. Addie doesn't hold it against her. She can’t hold who Marianne is against herself.

  With this now over and done with, Addie walks down two flights of stairs and exits the building. It’s a sunny day, just like it was yesterday, and she takes some pride in the fact that she’s got her contacts in, and sunglasses, and a face that doesn’t look like somebody tortured her for a week. There’s a spring to her step even if she tries to control it, and really, Addie just feels great.

  Although, she still can’t believe she’s about to meet up with Drew Starkey to exchange phones because he got startled and gave her the wrong one.

  She doesn’t even have the damn photo they took together.

  The thought makes her laugh, and relax a little, and somehow it clicks in her head that Drew really is just a regular guy, susceptible to ridiculous shitty things happening to him just like everyone else. It calms her on her walk down to Tesco, even when it’s a few minutes after they’ve agreed on meeting up and he's still not here. 

  Expected, really. He did say he’d be late, after all.

  When he finally walks out of the car, she doesn’t realise it’s him, at first. The car he’s driving is a silver Toyota, looking a little older than she'd expect. He parks it a couple dozen feet away from her, and the only reason she even takes note of the car is because it’s similar to the one her high school friends used to drive when they were all still back in town. Her eyes land on the dark-haired figure inside the car and recognises him only when the Atlanta sun shines its light on him, making the brown strands appear almost blonde, blonde structure framed by the sun’s gentleness.

  Something in Addie flutters. It’s not butterflies, but the feeling of excitement at the prospect of an adventure, or something entirely surreal yet about to happen.

  Drew’s face breaks into a smile as warm as summer itself at the sight of her. She gives a little wave, clutching his phone in her hands. It takes him a couple of seconds to cross the distance between them, and he joins her under the shade.

  ‘Hi,’ he says.

  ‘Hi.’ Addie grins back, the sheer lack of knowing what to do bringing heat to her cheeks. ‘Nice car you got there. My friend had the same one.’

  He glances at the car with pride in his eyes, nodding. ‘Yeah, she’s a badass. Stuck with me through thick and thin.’

  ‘You got the AC?’

  ‘Yeah, I had it installed a few years back, when I moved here. Your friend didn’t?’

  ‘Nope.’ Addie shakes her head, sighing at the mere thought of the days she spent roasting in that car during midsummer roadtrips. ‘Some AC would be good right now. I walked here and honestly, I pretty much melted off. Even wearing this.’

  The girl grabs a handful of the dress below her waist, the lower part of the lightest fabric she could find in her closet. It’s an ordinary summer dress meant for beaches and walks under the Mediterranean sun, light blue with flowers scattered all over it, and reaching just to her knees when still. The day is windy, so the fabric sways on the wind, pulling itself a little higher, instead.

  Drew chuckles at her comment and makes one about misjudging the temperature and choosing to wear long jeans instead of shorts, and stops himself mid sentence. ‘Ah, fuck.’ 

  Addie recognises the sigh and the eyeroll, and figures something’s up even before he runs his fingers through his hair, saying, 'I forgot something. I'll be right back.'

  Before she manages to mutter ‘Okay’, he’s making a beeline for his car. She watches him take something out of the glove compartment and he’s back within seconds, holding one of the biggest Hershey’s chocolate bars Addie has ever seen, and her phone is on top of it. She lets out a small chuckle, feeling her eyebrows come closer.

  Drew holds the two in front of her, scratching the back of his neck with the other hand. ‘This is a little something for the inconvenience. And – and as congratulations, you know, for getting the internship.’

  ‘Oh my god, you didn’t need to buy me a chocolate,’ Addie says, voice high pitched in a combination of laughter and disbelief.

  ‘No, I did. Just – just take it, okay?’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  Addie’s fingers wrap around the chocolate and she slips her phone into her pocket, handing him his. It feels odd—this whole interaction does—and she has the stupidly childish need to stare at her feet, but she makes herself look up at him, and he does the same once he glances briefly at his phone, putting it into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s squinting a little, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the sun and the fact that he’s not wearing sunglasses, or because that way it's easier to mask the awkwardness she knows he’s also feeling.

  She offers him a smile, earnest as he can, and sees his shoulders drop a little.

  The smile he gives in return is so genuinely apologetic that Addie finds it sweet – contagious, too.

  ‘Look, I really am sorry about this whole thing. I know I keep apologising, but I mean it. The chocolate was the least I could’ve done.’

  ‘And it’s more than enough,’ she reassures him. ‘Honestly. You’re all good. It’s not like you tried to steal my phone.’ She squints at him, jokingly, and crosses her arms on her chest. ‘Unless...?’

  It makes him laugh, wide and bright, and his hair moves gently as his head shakes. ‘Fuck no. I’m not skilled enough for that.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re driving an old Toyota that does’'t even come with an AC. Not good enough for a thief.’

  Drew’s laughter persists, and Addie lets herself relax a little. She leans against the tree with the side of her body, a little tired of being on her feet for so long, one of her hands stuck in her pocket and the other holding onto the chocolate that's getting softer between her fingers and her palm.

  The man in front of her glances around with an edge to it, just like he did back inside the supermarket.

  ‘I should get going,’ he says. ‘It’s an interview week, so…’

  Addie smiles. ‘Yeah, it’s cool. Thanks for bringing my phone back.’

  ‘Once again, I’m really—’

  ‘Okay. It was nice seeing you again. I can’t hear you apologise one more time so I’m going to leave.’

  She considers turning on her heel and pretending to walk away, but she only takes a single step back and gives him a cheeky grin, instead. Drew is staring at her, squinting a little, probably because she’s all in the sun now and her dress is more than a little reflective.

  He raises two fingers, gives her a little salute. ‘Bye, then.’

  Addie repeats the word, mimicking his gesture.

  Drew grins at that and it’s the last she sees of his face, as he turns toward his car and walks away. He waves at her driving out of the parking lot, while Addie fumbles with her headphones and her phone, and she waves back.

  The moment he’s out of sight, she walks back under the tree, completely leaning her back against it. The breeze is enjoyable now, something between comfortable and warm, and Addie feels her heart thumping in her chest. Her eyes flutter and a shaky breath leaves her lungs, lips curling into a smile. Her hands may not be sweaty, but she feels sweaty all around, and knows she should be getting home as fast as possible because of the chocolate she’s holding, but she just... she can’t.

  It’s not like Addie Mallory to get her head spinning at the sight of a boy – far from it. In fact, she likes to think of herself as an experienced person with a level-headed, realistic perspective on life and everything that constitutes. She’s put her career and future first for years now, and this is the first time she feels like she’s taking baby steps when talking to someone new, instead of striding. 

  Except, be as it is, Drew Starkey isn’t just someone new. Even if Addie is used to meeting people of far more importance than her, it’s usually in her line of business, and it’s usually people she knows what to expect from. This is someone who she feels like she knows what to expect from except he breaks all those expectations with ease. 

  It’s far from being the same, so Addie allows herself to be okay with her heart racing, palms sweating, and just getting overall excited like a schoolgirl. This doesn’t make her any less mature or her priorities any less set in stone.

  As Addie goes into her text messages, rereads the one from Harry Martin, she realises that her life definitely took a 180 the day before. She texts him back, letting him know she’s available whenever and apologising for the late reply. Her phone rests against her chest, warm and familiar.

  She’s glad to have it back.

  But, even if she’s having a hard time admitting it, she’s not glad that her story with Drew is over.

◇

05: TOMFOOLERY

tagging. @jjmaybanksbaby​​ @taiter-tots​​ @sacredto​​ @snkkat​​ @drewswannabegirl​​ @yeslifeofateen​​ @rudypnkw​​ @stfukie​​ @x-lulu​​ @sacredto​​ @drewstarkey​​ @butgilinsky​​ @solllaris​​ @hyperactive2411​​ @chasefreakinstokes​​  @surferkie​ @jroseron​ @k-k0129​

[howwnowbrowncoww]

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms

thanks for the tag @vidramon​! I’m going to refrain from picking Malroth since it’s a total given for me lol and since you already wrote some pretty great stuff about him. These aren’t really in any order and I picked off the top of my head so I’m sure I’m missing a few I’d really be able to chat your ears off about, but this was fun anyway!

Oops, editing this to say anyone can try it out! Not tagging anyone specific this time, but if you want to talk about 10 characters you love, please add on an share or make your own post and tag me because I’d love to see!

1. Bado (Rune Factory 4)

Honestly, I love all the characters from 4, but this loser holds a special place in my heart. His half-hearted passion for getting rich quick but lack of follow through when it comes to negatively impacting people around him with his schemes is oddly endearing. I equally want to wring his neck and be his best friend. I also will die mad that he wasn’t a marriage candidate>:T

2. Tamaki Amajiki (BNHA)

It was a toss up between him and Shinsou, but I picked Tamaki because I can relate more to him. I love seeing him fight with determination and courage despite how much anxiety he has. He works hard despite all his perceived faults, and his supportive friend group makes me so happy for him! I left off mid season 4 of the anime but I want to pick it up again just for him and Shinsou lol

3. Ghirahim (Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Okay, I know, major leap from anxious Tamaki, but Ghirahim is a fave on the complete opposite side of the scale. This guy is obviously an asshole. A total jerk. Dickhead supreme. But he’s a very fun and interesting villain (in the worst way) imo. I’m also a huge fan of WindWaker Ganondorf because of his drive as a villain, but I picked Ghirahim since SS is getting remade soon. Idk, his design is eye-catching, every time I got to meet him in the game, he always had interesting dialouge (putting it lightly), and his personality uh...leaves much to be improved upon, but he HAS ONE! I’m tired of boring villains with lackluster motivations. Okay, his motivations were kinda expectable too, but his overwhelming desire to kill me in an extremely over-the-top dramatic fashion at all times was refreshing.

4. Sophie (Howl’s Moving Castle)

I know a lot of people have a favorite Sophie (either the book or movie version), but I like both equally for really different reasons. I related to movie Sophie a lot as a kid (still kinda do), so I have nostalgia going for me there, but book Sophie is a wild card. I lover her. She’s nuts, she won’t hesitate to throw acid, she can and will do whatever the hell she wants. I really want to be her. 

5. Fenris (Dragon Age 2)

It was SO HARD to pick between him, Bull, and Dorian, because I haven’t played any of the games, but I want to meet them all so damn bad lol. I OWN all the games, I just haven’t played them yet /cries/. Ironically, I took a quiz the other day and it said I’d be Fenris, and I honestly was just more concerned than anything considering his backstory lmao. Anyway, I love an elf who can wield a greatsword and rip people’s hearts from their bodies while avoiding his emotionally traumatic past:>

6. Galo Thymos (Promare)

Look, I absolutely ADORE everyone in this entire movie, but this moron just hits all the best character traits for me. He’s passionate, he’s stupider than all get out, and he’s constantly shirtless while almost dying and saving the day through sheer god-defying luck and a refusal to lay down and die. There’s just something about himbos that gets me, ya know?

7. Kurapika Kurta (Hunter X Hunter)

Kurapika has what Sasuke could NEVER. Literally, Kurapika has such a more satisfying revenge/redemption ark than anything I’ve ever seen. I love his interaction with Melody and the main group, the red eyes thing is so BADASS (again, still cooler than Sasuke’s), the chains are both aesthetic as HELL and insanely, terrifyingly effective. Never seen a cooler anime character in my entire life. I also just really, really want to give him a fucking hug, like wow he really needs one.

8. Apollo Justice (Ace Attorney games)

Apollo is a new love of mine (also from a game I haven’t played yet) as well as another character for me to eventually project onto;) He’s anxious, he yells a lot, he’s oblivious as fuck, but he has the passion I love in all my characters. This boy is in for a world of hurt (from the many spoilers I have run into by browsing the game tags prematurely lol), but I know he’ll pull through! He has his family by his side!;-;

9. Sakura Haruno (Naruto)

Don’t even get me started on Sakura>:O I love her so much. I did not appreciate her near enough as a kid (maybe understandably since she was written for shit). Instead of going back and rewatching the show to face inevitable disappointment, I just read fics that fix all of the crappy things the show did to her:) This girl could crush me like a bug and I am looking respectfully!!

10. Tadashi Hamada (Big Hero 6)

Saving the most underloved one for last;-; Tadashi I miss you. I rewatch this goddamn movie just for you (and sometimes Baymax). I have the only shirt I could ever find with him on it and I also have his hat because once I latch onto a character, I apparently never let go. It’s a shame Disney had to kill him off to further the plot. I was so desperate for more content of this character that I found myself falling down theory spirals about how he may come back as Sunfire (that name may be wrong, it’s been a few years lol). Ultimate big brother, great best friend, everyone loved him and knew he was creating good things for the world, super goofy: literally I think I just aspired to be more like him when I first saw the movie. Mad respect for this dude.

[incarnateirony]

So now I’m gonna be that butch bitch.

Socially relevant wide topics is not a specific sub blog of anyone that happens to hold an opinion in that topic. I barely even touch my home tab because of how insufferable this fandom dialogue tends to be beyond scrolling through entire vats of whatever the hell is going on and addressing it in general address in a wide host of conversational points. Which literally anyone can see with how few blogs I engage and how rare a burst of gif reblogging even is. Did you tag me directly and land in my notification stream, no, then I probably have no idea what you’re saying. This isn’t hard.

This, on the other hand, is a petty gay sub blog.

Please note there’s a very distinct difference between these and LGBT cinema discussion someone may or may not take offense to.

I’ll give you a hint: my sub blogs are short, pointed, sassy, generally include a random media reference like a video game video or this little piece of art, and are doused in sarcasm. They’re the fandom version of “ok, boomer”. Sure, I do sub blog. We all do. Let’s be real dears. But nah fam. That ain’t it.

Anyone that insists on projecting themselves into a set of shoes left on the floor is free to do so, but they need to recognize that’s what they’re doing with general discussion. No, picking a fight with me on a different social media platform and then pretending any other conversation is targeting you isn’t how it works. I can’t stop anyone from recoiling to the content. And I’ve been EXTREMELY forward on where the door is if they want to continue using regressive angles or taking personal offense to general conversation points. This isn’t new.

Jesus fucking christ.

And for the love of fuck stop treating me like I’m some big name fan. I don’t do conventions, events, actors, I don’t give a shit about shipping culture, I don’t do FB groups, I’m literally not *here* for any of that bullshit. Respectively having a few thousand followers isn’t *shit* on a platform where the big blogs range 8-14,000. I am not. Here. For this clout. Chasing. Bullshit. And I don’t want it anywhere near me. And I didn’t ask to be any kind of leader, or want to be any kind of leader, and magically, this BNF leader that I am had a grand total of 0 fucking people coming at anybody. Just a few telling them to stop escalating their own internalized issues against someone else. If you think that’s unreasonable, I don’t know what to fucking tell you.

If you’re here for fandom drama or personal validation, please, leave me the *fuck* alone. I am not here to be the mother to 2000 grown assed people. Thankfully many of you are reasonable, but for whatever 1% is out there getting *mad* that I’m not conforming, I swear to god, leave me the FUCK ALONE.

I have never been a proper agent of fandom. I have never obligated myself to washes of fandom yelling regardless of if it’s “my lane” or “my friend.” And no, I’m not due to “self reflect” just because *somebody else chose to think I was talking about them.* That’s not how that WORKS. I can’t self-reflect to magically engineer intentions or thoughts somebody else put in their head and projected my way, holy shit balls man.

You wanna know why people talk bullshit about Destiel fandom? This narcissistic manipulative bullshit, this false extremization of talking points, all of it. And no, not every Destiel fan does that before someone warps that. But there’s a reason so many people are hiding from this shit in tag commentary, and it’s THIS. You can deadass say “While I agree we should aspire for better representation we should also make sure to not trample on the work of what people ARE fighting for right now” and SOME FUCKER, SOME WHERE, will turn that into “You’re telling us to settle and stop fighting! You’re a homophobe!” even though it says the opposite JUST ABOVE WHATEVER THEY’RE EXAGGERATING, and yet SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE, will be like “You know what, this resonates with my current feelings, now I’m going to make it dictate this real person’s reality even though that is clearly NOT WHAT THEY’RE FUCKING SAYING.”

I have. ALWAYS. Said. I am not here. For fandom bullshit. This 0 to 100, all or nothing, black or white, Fall In With The Hoard Or Perish By Us Lying And Footstomping And Demanding People Unfollow The Person Who Won’t Fite Me Nao *bullshit.* No, taking a strong stance or having a strong opinion contrary to the Borg is not hArAsSmEnt. What’s fucking harassment is intentionally stalking down people’s materials to pick fights across multiple SM platforms and trying to make it all about YOU while they’re minding their bullshit on their own walls. CHECK YOURSELVES. What’s ~~bullying~~ is trying to incite hive mind attacks. What’s abuse is demanding anyone else tolerate it, much less warping “them or me” choices just because someone *disagrees* with you. 

Nobody sent anybody at the person in question. In fact, they sent themselves, and continued to double down that it had to all be about them, then directed friends to engage and continue it afterwards. The only person that outted them was them, and they fucking @’ed me, so I don’t know what the *fuck* you expected from me. Even if I WAS sub blogging them -- which 1000% not -- not a soul on the fucking planet would have known them until they threw themselves out into the field because IT WAS ADDRESSING MULTIPLE FANDOM TOPICS; and even when they threw themselves out, nobody actually came at them. They just told them to stop. ... And then after that when their friends were told I won’t judge them? ESCALATION! YOU MUST COME ATTACK ME! uh, no. That’s not how this works. Maybe that’s how you’re all used to this working, but that’s not how this works. I can very well say “Kay, whatever you wanna do with yourself” and leave it there.

I don’t ask anybody to come to my wall. I don’t ask you to come pick fights with me. I don’t ask you to troll across multiple media platforms looking for an opening just to get mad when I’m already too exhausted to deal with you. 

I can tell you the one thing you probably shouldn’t do though, and that’s follow a fandom commentary opinion blog and head nod and bobble to it and go “YEAH, YEAH!!” until your own general behavior crops up into the discussion and then turn into a bunch of rabid bobcats and start saying you had a problem with that blog the whOEL tiEM. So, what, you... agreed when it suited you while having a problem with my methods? They’re only a problem if they apply to someone you prefer? 

Get out. I literally do not have the time and energy for this bullshit. I am literally in the middle of my second legal battle in a year while dealing with crippling pain, I can BARELY make my own content BEYOND this conversation, I haven’t even been able to edit for like two weeks,  my game and my projects are all indefinitely paused, I fucking PROMISE YOU that randomopinion dot tumblr dot com is not the highlight of what I’m just out here to inspire shit for, holy shit. Like sure fam, I can barely walk into dollar general to buy a pizza for dinner right now, my house is in limbo, I’m trying to work side jobs while my hip is literally falling apart and my spine is disconnecting from my ribs intermitantly, I might puncture a lung with the effort of sitting down, but you know what I want to do? Stick it to some random FUCKER on tumblr (who can’t keep themselves off of my content while pretending I’m coming at them.) 

If you’d like, with the magic Clap On Clap Off Gay TV invention, if we can also come up with “disability trade” for a feature to live one day in the life of someone, I would gladly invite you to deal with the pain of your anatomy trying to casually rearrange itself. I mean, if we’re all about shoving ourselves into random shoes, go ahead and try mine on. See if you have the patience for this kind of fandom bullshit, let alone to methodically do whatever the fuck a segment of fandom decided I did as some sort of machiavellian plan to sub blog someone I didn’t know fucking existed beyond some other random name account trolling into the middle of an existing conversation on a whole other social media platform.

Is it absolute bullshit to kick into the middle of a conversation, not catch up on the conversation, assume the worst of a conversation because you heard something applicable to you, and to start yelling at people having a conversation that had NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU? Yes, yes it fucking is. No, I don’t care you think I’m holding some grudge from when you farted wrong in the room earlier today, your self consciousness on that front is yours, not mine, fart the fuck away.

Is it even more bullshit to say you aren’t obligated to catch up to the conversation you entered with this angle to and pretend it’s everybody else’s fault? Sure the fuck is. Is it bullshit to @ someone and make literally famously socially abusive demands and then pretend anyone came at *you* after you superman jumped one, two, and five assumptions that it was ABOUT YOU? To just double down because someone’s your *friend* even when the barest application of logic would show they walked in yelling at someone unrelated to them before they set up their drama with a whole ass bass boosting entertainment boom box for everybody? Why yes, yes that is a huge pile of bull shit. I’m not sure why this is a hard thing to grok.

So sure, now I’m sub blogging you. Because somewhere, in the midst of me blogging on every platform about people’s application of bad faith arguments, you decided to bad faithedly attach some sort of fucking motivation to my posts that made it all about *you*. The irony is fucking mind blowing.

I’m so. Done. With this shit.

[margoshansons]

Even numbers for the fic writer game?

2) Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

I have not yet done true enemies to friends to lovers and I need to do it because I love it so much.

4) How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh man. So many. I have Alfie’s fic Chaos Theory, Stella’s Fic, my Bucky Barnes found family Fic and literally so many that are half outlined. I always have at least five to ten ideas running through my brain at any given moment. 

One I’m really excited about that isn’t OC related is a Bellarke Much Ado About Nothing AU, with Bellamy as Benedick, Clarke as Beatrice, Raven as Hero, Finn as Claudio, and Roan and Ontari as Don Pedro and Don John.

6) Share one of your weaknesses.

I am awful at writing action scenes. I actively go out of my way to avoid them. (Like making Jas faint during the Mutliplex fight). I am also really bad at tagging dialogue.

8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

Cisco smirked at her response, “please, you practically drool all over him when he’s in the room.”

She shook her head, “Barry’s my best friend, that’s all,” She began, sticking her tongue out at Cisco, “and I do not drool”

This is such a sibling interaction and I could see the entire scene unfold before my entire eyes. Plus, I’d never been good at writing Cisco, and then this scene happened and It just felt perfect.

10) Which fic has been the easiest to write?

Surprisingly, Chain Reaction. I wasn’t expecting it to be so easy, but Jasmine’s character really just flew off the pages for me.

12) Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Legends of Tomorrow: “Phone Home” or “Legends of To-Meow-Meow”

Both of them are meaningful but hilarious while playing with traditional tropes and just going batshit crazy. It reminds me to not take my work too seriously.

14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Don’t name your characters using the same initial or with phonetically similar names. 

Fuck that! I will name my characters however I see fit. It stifles creativity and if you have a name that would work, then use it! 

16) If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Look, you know it, I know it, the entire community knows it. Bellarke for life baby!

18) Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I use outlines, OneNote, character worksheets and timelines to keep everything in check. I am a very messy and disorganized person so the more I can organize my thoughts the better. 

20) Describe your perfect writing conditions.

Just me, a coffee, my bedroom, a comfortable chair, my headphones, a good playlist and people to talk to and bounce ideas off of. (but they stay quiet or are virtual)

22) Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

a soft melody left her lips, rising up through the cold air, her breath creating a cloud every time she let out a note.

Cosette reached in her pocket to grab the forty-sous. Her hand came up empty. Oh no. What was she going to do now? 

Her sore throat burned as she swallowed down her nerves, anxiously pulling the ragged shawl closer around her shoulders, the frayed threads barely keeping the garment together while she reached down to grab the wooden bucket, water rushing over her bare feet, freezing her already cold legs. 

Y’all, this is from the archives, so I hope you enjoy this.

24) Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

When I was starting out yes. Now I don’t unless I plan on not continuing it. Every piece of writing you put out is valuable.

26) Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I try to as much as possible! I don’t really get many offers to beta, but when I do, I try my best. I’m a pretty harsh editor and I know what I like and don’t like so I try to be supportive with a hint of “this kind of sucks but I respect your decisions”

28) Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@probably-voldemort : I’ve mentioned them so much on this site, but they are honestly one of the most talented writers I’ve ever encountered. The way they detail every character’s thought process and the dialogue and the ANGST. It’s all just *chef’s kiss*

@cassercole : Liz is so fantastic as coming up with unique ideas and making you care about the characters she creates. Like, I was really on the fence about Bucky, until I read RIM and then I was like, ‘I get it now’

@ocfairygodmother: The og and the person who inspired me to join the OC community, Jan is so talented at creating her own canon and then making it work with already existing canon. Like Entreat Me Not To Leave is my main source of Outlander news now. I don’t even watch the show anymore because her fic replaced it in my mind.

30) Do you accept prompts?

Absolutely! I just may not get to them for a while haha.

32) How do you feel about smut?

Alright look, I’m not good at writing it, and I’m not a fan of reading it. I just have a really complicated relationship with sex in general and I’d rather keep it out of my writing until I know more about it.

34) What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

FUCK THAT!!! 

YOU KNOW WHAT’S SEXY? CONSENT!!

36) Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3 for life BABYYYY!

38) Talk about a review that made your day.

I don’t get that many reviews, but literally any of them make my day. I just love it when people show interest in my writing! 

40) Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Oooh, Okay. I’m hoping you mean Chain Reaction, since that’s what I’m working on right now, and while the ending is FAAAAARRRR away, I think I have a good alternate ending. (I’m probably gonna cut it off at Crisis or just skip over season 6)

Barry and Iris end up together, Eddie comes back to life and ends up with Jasmine after Crisis.

FANFIC WRITER ASK

[sebbybooks]

Somewhere in Paradise (PT3)

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction ~18

Warnings: Language, Smut

Tagged for updates🍓

@spideyhoecoming @bashfulshy @blueenemy24 @asguardiansoftheavengers @mightiestheroes @ladifreakingda

A/N: I’m back!💕💕🌻🌻💋💋💜💜🌈🌈Life has been busy lately. It’s taken me a while to update and I wanna say a quick thank you to those who have stayed updated with this story. In the beginning I mentioned how I intended on making this just one part, then it sorta spiraled out of control. This part you’re about to read has probably been my favorite to write. Due to the cliffhanger, yes there will be a next part if anyone is still curious to see how it all ends. Believe me when I say there is an ending!🖤

“Promise me you’ll never forget me,

because if I thought you would,

I would never leave.” -A.A.M

Chills ran down my spine.

I’m not sure how long I had been standing in the middle of his hotel room when the realization of what I had found finally sunk in. Sebastian was the one who had stolen my journal this entire time and had been lying to me for days on top of it. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing, but the proof was right in my hands. I couldn’t overlook the fact it was the same color and that on the bottom lefthand corner my name was etched across in gold calligraphy. I sucked in a tortuous breath inhaling slowly, that nearly got trapped in my airway. Which could have easily strangled me. Well maybe not in real life, but in a literary emphasis it definitely could have! Do I even hear myself? I’m editing my reality to make it sound like a work of fiction that I would write! Un-fucking-believable.

I started to walk but my feet turned to heavy lumps of lead. I physically couldn’t move and that worried me the most. Something inside of me was fighting against my better judgment. It wasn’t just one thing keeping me molded to the floor, there were many. I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of emotions that attacked me from all sorts of directions. I was furious with Sebastian. He had taken a tangible piece of my soul to probably use for his own twisted personal gain. He had confessed to me that he knew in the beginning who I was and what seeing me meant to him. But who knows that could have been a lie! So why would he go out of his way just to pretend to like me? As soon as the doubt entered my thoughts it suddenly dawned on me that maybe his intentions were clear as day and I just refused to see them.

Shame on me for letting Sebastian kiss me in the first place my first night here in Capri. It was the lone ripple effect that led me here. The second he pulled away he looked at me like kissing me was freeing, but equally a reminder of his pain. I started to laugh hysterically at the idea that he might’ve even felt something for me. For a hot second in the cave it sure as hell felt that way. There was something about him that intrigued me more than I thought possible. Like a phantom feeling I could still feel Sebastian’s hands grappling my body for dear life. Seconds ticked away in a tortuous silence as Sebastian eyed my parted lips in anticipation of him. The hairs of his short beard brushed lightly against my face before he finally put me out of my agonizing misery. Feverishly kissing him back, I ran my tongue through the small entrance to meet his.

His mouth meticulously explored mine with desperation that I nearly couldn’t keep up with. Almost as if he was trying to memorize the shape of my lips. My hands were strained against his back, pulling at the material on his soddened shirt. Sebastian palmed the back of my head to deepen the kiss. Whatever came over me in the blue grotto was beyond me. It was as though my entire body all of a sudden lusted after his. I acted briefly like he was someone I could have and I kissed him back as if I was searching for something that only Sebastian could give me. 

This trip was something that I was suppose to do on my own. I realized I had been caught up in my own world of storytelling that I stopping living my reality. I needed something new and fresh to shake up my creative senses. I didn’t ask for this in return. Sebastian was just a detour in my mind. I was never meant to come here with him. I just needed to remind myself that next time I think about sucking faces!

He was the most closed off person I had ever met. Which in return was equally frustrating. Who by the way was still visibly in mourning. I was just a casualty in his journey through his grieving stage. I wouldn’t be able to fill Bianca’s shoes even if I wanted to, which to be clear I don’t. The best thing I could do for myself was to pretend like this was a really bad dream. A bad draft during my editing stage. Revise, rewrite, start over. I could salvage my trip but first thing first was to find my room key that he took and then get the hell out of here.

I had to be quick about my search, but my dress felt like it kept tackling on pounds and it made it harder for me to walk around in. I kept tripping over my own two feet every time I walked forward. I searched around his hotel room looking through every single dresser drawer in sight. I checked under the bed, and in his duffel bag where he clearly kept his contraband. My heartbeat at that point was beating so loudly in my ears. It was like all my worst fears came to life. I couldn’t find my hotel key anywhere and it felt like I was existing in a scene out of a cheesy horror flick, starring me Natalie Foster the dumbstruck damsel.  

I looked back towards the bathroom to check to make sure the door was still closed. When I turned back I stumbled into a table leg stubbing my toe painfully hard. Who's idea was it to put that that there and why am I such a klutz?! I grunted out a string of curse words as the pain slowly subsided in my foot. I heard the water turn off as Sebastian’s voice filled the room. “You okay out there?”

I didn’t answer him. My voice failed to work. I decided to forget the room key altogether and leave. I would just go back to my room to pack my bags and find somewhere else to stay. I was halfway to the door when I felt Sebastian’s presence behind me. Damn he was quick. I froze in my tracks unable to walk through the door. I was mortified at the situation I somehow tangled myself in. Scenes like this usually end bad. I turned around afraid to see a murderous look behind his eyes. When I saw his face to my surprise there was only worry.

“I heard a loud sound so I came to check on you to make sure you didn’t see anymore bugs.” A slow lopsided smile formed across his face as the memory of what happened on the boat tried to squeeze at my heartstrings. Sebastian was gripping a white towel that was barely held together around his well defined waistline. His body looked like someone took a carving utensil and created hard and detailed grooves over his abdomen. The towel was hanging dangerously low. He clutched on to it careful not to take his eyes off of me. I drank in the vision of his bare chest that was still soaking wet from his shower. The tiny anchor pendant that he wore around his neck which Sebastian never took off dangled against his chest. My fingers were just itching to trace along the polished silver on the aged charm. Until I quickly forced myself to snap out it.

This wasn’t the time to develop wandering eyes but if his greatly physiqued body would be the last thing I would see then I gladly give thanks to the universe for sending me this final gift! His body glistened with droplets of water that fell all the way down to the happy trail of dark hair going south. Stop, stop, STOP! I scolded myself for not taking this more seriously. I am obviously trapped in a ghastly predicament and I’m drooling over a thieving criminal.

“I found this.” I said hazily. Patience certainly wasn’t my strong suit and I don’t know where I dug the courage to speak, but I procured it. Sebastian looked back at me with a raised brow that showed no indication of what I was talking about. I held my journal up and his easy going smile disappeared.

ONE YEAR LATER

I looked out at the sky and watched as tiny stars began to appear across the water. I had never stopped to take the opportunity to marvel at how transcendent it is to simply watch the sun kiss the moon goodnight. I had it in my head that it was a love affair between two entities that could never truly exist together. No matter how close in proximity they may have appeared up close if you really payed attention it was all just an optical illusion. They never touched and they would never last for much long.

“I took a wild guess and knew I’d find you out here.” The warm and familiar voice made the ambience even more peaceful somehow. Despite the sudden sinking feeling I felt in my chest.

“Prettiest view on the island.” I sighed. I scooted to the end of the bench to make room beside me. He picked up my hand as he sat down and kissed the side of my head in an endearing gesture. We both turned our heads back to gaze at the shimmering moon.

“Are you going to open it?” Alessio's voice was barely above a whisper. I didn’t understand what he was talking about until I noticed the white envelope he covertly placed in my lap. I was most definitely confused by it because while it was addressed to me. The letter was from no other than Bianca.

“Natalie I can explain.” His tone was laced with a calmness I didn’t expect. I had heard those words before from him. Sebastian probably already had an excuse ready to recite. An I didn’t give him the chance to act out his performance.

“You know you almost had me fooled.” I stated in disbelief. “Just tell me Sebastian what were you going to do with it? Did you read it for shits and giggles or were you planning on selling it?” I asked bluntly, my voice was starting to shake.

“Is that what you think I would do?” He asked tightly.

I was at war with myself over that question. My stomach flipped erratically from the way he looked at me. I had every intent on being the one with the upper hand in this situation. Sebastian’s bemused expression caught me off guard. If any thing he was the one that looked offended.

“I honestly don’t know what you would do!” I said in wary voice. “That night I asked if you had it you looked me in the eyes and blatantly lied to my face. I know it must be an insignificant object to you, but it’s important to me and you stole it! You must look at me and laugh at how gullible I am.” I said breathlessly.

I waited to see if the armor of guilt would shed. His piercing glare was almost too intense to stand in front off. I expected him to grovel and beg for my forgiveness while offering some sorry ass apology along with it. “So you figured it out then huh?” Sebastian laughed unfeeling.

Sebastian moved a little closer to me, his face had changed to a stony expression. By the way he was assessing me made me tremble under his scrutiny and it wasn’t from fear. Nothing about his intimidating presence screamed dangerous. I was more terrified that I would do something stupid.

“What else am I suppose to think? I found it hiding in your bag and you said nothing!” I swallowed back nerves that felt never ending.

Sebastian’s overcast blue eyes narrowed on my face studying my reaction as I gripped my journal down beside me. From the looks of the situation from a third eye’s perspective I should’ve been a little apprehensive about being alone with a half naked man that I met a little over two and a half weeks ago. We were both visibly seething with pent up frustrations for one another and yet I couldn’t seem to leave well enough alone.

“It's rather insulting that you think so little of me and assume I would ever do anything to misplace your trust.” His expression softened like I had wounded a part of him.

The entirety of the situation was enough to give me whiplash. I didn’t know whether to slap him or wish that damn towel would magically fall off. For now I was stuck wanting both. “You can’t honestly blame me! It was in your bag!” I repeated sternly.

“Do you remember the morning after breakfast the day you lost it?” Sebastian asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer from me. “I spent all morning helping you look for it. Together we retraced our steps all the way back to Alessio’s restaurant. When our search came up empty right before we left I asked him to keep an eye out for it just in case it turned up.” As Sebastian talked I started to recall the moments when we nearly spent the second half of our day in Capri looking for my journal.

“None of that explains how it came into your possession.” I said defensively. Unsure of how the story would play out I had a feeling I would be eventually swallowing my tongue by the end.

Sebastian spoke up quickly cutting through my accusations. “This morning I had got a call from someone at the restaurant. One of his bartenders was reading it when he was suppose to be working. Alessio recognized the name on the journal and he remembered that you had lost the exact same one. He had someone bring it over to the hotel right before I went to your room. I had every intention of giving it back to you over dinner tonight as a surprise.” Sebastian sighed in exhaustion.

Sebastian’s words were hitting me like a ton of bricks. I had a hunch that weasel no scratch that! Son of a bitch (much better phrasing Natalie) took my journal the second he didn’t want me looking around the bar! I was too preoccupied tossing back limoncello shots to notice that when he wasn't mixing drinks he was also a kleptomaniac! My heart quickly started to sink in my chest. I wanted to be a giant bubble that would at any given second pop.There was an awkward pause then Sebastian said, “Well?” He gave me a pointed stare.

“Well what?” I asked feeling a thousand percent embarrassed. I had just accused him of stealing and for as long as I’ve know him he hadn’t given me reasons to think otherwise. Which frankly isn’t long at all. 

His eyes closed and the muscle in his jaw worked profusely. “Why didn’t you give me the benefit of doubt Natalie? It was like you were ready to believe the worst in me.”

I began to move forward but stopped in my tracks. The damp fabric that clung to every particle on my skin was the most gross feeling. I had to control my teeth from chattering I was so cold.

“Answer the goddamn question Natalie!” His demanding voice was rasped. My body sagged with guilt and I shrugged my shoulders unable to give him the answer he wanted. Sebastian regarded my silence as a way of saying what he needed to hear. He bit down on his bottom lip shaking his head vehemently, and started to walk backwards leaving me.

“Wait.” I reached forward not thinking as I grabbed ahold of his wrist. Sebastian stared at my hand like it had scales. Clearing my throat I quickly released my firm grip on him. “If it were you in my place how would you have reacted? I don’t know that much about you apart from you being someone who takes too many risks and doesn’t think twice about anything.”

Tilting his chin as if I had just said something amusing. “If only you knew the whole story .” He said with a pained expression. There was a weird pull between us. One minute we were arguing the next I would be dying to know why he looked like someone just died. No shit Natalie. . .someone did die.

“Tell me then.” I asked quietly. I watched Sebastian’s chest rise and fall as if he just remembered to breathe. His body was taut, but his eyes started to soften.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. I wrapped my arms around my body in an attempt to shield myself from the draft wafting over me. I could feel goosebumps rise up over my skin. Sebastian’s cold stare was long gone but still his silence was every bit chilling.“Maybe this was too soon too fast.” He shook his head. 

“What do you mean?” I asked knowing damn well this wasn’t about something as minuscule as a journal anymore.

“This!” He growled low. Sebastian’s voice was uneven, I could hear the brokenness in the one word alone. It wasn’t exactly from anger, but from sorrow. "There's no real point in me coming out here anymore. I just did it for her. I always did.” He whispered.

I wanted to say something anything to just stop his bleeding heart. There wasn’t a single word I could produce to offer him a shred of comfort. Knowing that broke my own heart. “Did what Sebastian?”Sebastian didn't  respond right away. “Sorry, you definitely don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Expelling a shaking breath he continued. “She’d deny it if you said but Bianca was a adrenaline junkie.” A frustrated sigh escaped him. “Nothing scared her, apart from confinement and her greatest fear was not living life to the fullest. I don't know what she saw in me I was nothing like Gabriel. Now me on the other hand I was more reserved. I wouldn’t do a damn thing solely based off a whim. ” Sebastian explained.

Unable to stop myself I let out a snort at that confession. The Sebastian I met seemed like a daredevil in disguise. A person who lived and breathed for the next unconventional adventure. I quickly brought my hand to my mouth feeling apologetic at what I just did. Sebastian didn’t seem to care.

“I know what you’re thinking and yeah I’m just as surprised as you are.” He said. “We would travel all over the world but she always ended up doing the craziest shit on top of it. Mountain climbing on El Capitan, deep sea diving with hammerheads in the Maldives, kayaking through glaciers in Vancouver. B was a thrill seeker and because I loved her with every breath in my body I thought I would be holding her back if stopped her.”

Sebastian stared passed me focusing on something other than me as if to keep himself calm. “She needed a rush to feel alive. I think she did it on purpose to feel closer to him.” His shoulders stiffened and his tone turned bitter. “Turns out it was the very thing that killed her.”

How did we get here? Oh right I put my fucking foot into mouth and asked him. The conversation goes from theft to death how much morose can this get? The silence is thick and almost unbearable. All I wanted to know was how he came to posses my journal. Somehow it opened up an unrelated and unresolved issue billowing around his recently deceased girlfriend. I didn’t want to force him to carry on. He didn’t have to explain in detail what happened to her. I shifted uncomfortably in my soaking wet shoes not sure to make eye contact with him or not. I wanted to put the pair of us out of this excruciating silence. As if sensing my awkwardness reluctantly his eyes met mine. Sebastian’s lip curled up but it wasn’t a smile. “Of all the things she did it ended up being a freak accident when her cord broke while bungee jumping.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat felt like tiny pieces of glass shards. The sadness that omitted from him clung on to me and wrapped its dispirited tentacles around me. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered. For everything, but only I could hear the rest of the tiny voice in my head. I especially didn't know how to ask him who Gabriel was. 

“Want to know what the worse part is?” The answer was obvious, but I didn’t have the guts to say no. The look he had in his eyes was insistent and yet almost stalled by a sense of fear he struggled with. “No matter how hard she tried to convince me I could never follow through with it and for that I will always regret.” Sebastian took a long and deliberate slow breath before releasing it.

“Contrary to what you might think of me Natalie right now being here with you is me finally taking that risk. I don’t know what the hell is happening between you and me. An I know you feel it too, yet you were about to walk away from what this is just because you’d think I would stoop so low and take from you. “ Sebastian leaned forward trapping me with his pained stare.

Internally I yelled at myself to say something, anything that would stop him from looking at me like I had just told him I was Lord Voldemort. Just twenty minutes ago I was jumping to the conclusion that he stole from me. Now I felt like the biggest jerk in existence and I suddenly have gone mute. “I’m going to finish up my shower. I really do hope the rest of your stay here is pleasant and you finally get the chance to live your own story for a change.”He didn’t bother to steal one last glance as if looking at me any longer would burn him.

Time ticked by me slowly after he left. I walked over to the bed and tossed my journal onto it, not wanting to hold it any longer as if it were a bad omen. In that moment I realized that I had two options. Two decisions no matter the choice I make I’d eventually regret not choosing the other. My feet started to move before my mind could catch up. I ended up standing on the other end of the bathroom door.

I pushed it open and steam from the shower filled my nose alongside Sebastian’s mouthwatering scent. I took baby steps into the bathroom not knowing what I was going to be greeted by. I peered around the shower and saw Sebastian standing with his head drawn back letting the water from the shower head pour down into his face. His attention suddenly snapped to me when he noticed I was standing behind the fogged glass. Without thinking I mindless started to pull back the sliding glass door, feeling the water spritz my already soaked clothes.

Sebastian who was gloriously naked stood still and watched me as if I was an apparition. My hand lifted to the straps on my dress letting them fall halfway down my shoulder. Lifting up the ends of my damp hair I turned my back. “Can you help me with my zipper. . . again?” I asked casually. I must’ve been felling all kinds of brave today.

I could hear the weariness in Sebastian’s voice. “Natalie.” Sebastian huffed out my name as if it were either a plea or a prayer.

“Are you going to help me or not?” I asked feeling flustered, my voice was unsteady. I don’t know what came over me. I rarely acted on impulse, but my blood ran cold when he wasn’t around and runs hot when he’s near. I’d never given myself to someone so easily who could effortlessly crack open and expose my heart. There was a long contemplated silence that followed my question. His hands gripped the back of my dress grabbing hold to the material, unzipping it in one quick motion. My back was exposed and I stood still waiting to see if he would make the next move. Just as I felt the rejection swallow me in its huge embarrassing jaws. Sebastian’s warm and wet hands tightly gripped at my sides, his fingers firmly pressed through the fabric on my drenched dress. Expectations was coursing though me until he abruptly loosened his hold that I almost lost my balance from lost of contact.

“You coming in?” I could feel the outlines of his chest rising and falling against my back. Those three little words were indelicate and like molten hot lava trickling down my spine. The air in the bathroom turned humid and beads of hot water splashed on my back. I don’t know why my heart was pounding out of my chest. I willfully barged into his bathroom like a woman on a mission. The panic started to rise in my chest when I realize that maybe this isn’t something that he necessarily wanted. I’m practically asserting myself onto him like some creep. One that I vividly remember telling him I was leery of him being back at the airport. Yet I am the one standing in his bathroom with my clothes hanging off of me ready to jump his bones. He must think I have lost my mind. I’d have to agree with him if he did.

As if hearing my thoughts he chimed in. “If we are going to stand in the shower all afternoon I’d at least like to look at your face.”

Swallowing down the lump of insecurities I turned to face him staring directly into his anxiously waiting blue eyes. I could tell he was allowing me to be the one to take the lead. Sebastian in all aspects was giving all the control to me. I lifted myself out of my shoes without taking my eyes off of his. I placed my hand on the glass in order to gain steadiness before I walked completely inside. On the inside of the shower it was more than enough space for the two of us. The interior was made up of ash gray marbling with an antiqued gold brass shower set. It looks like it’s made of the same material as the giant gold mirror in my room. For. Fucks.Sake. I’m even rambling in my head!

“Breath Natalie.” A slow smile had spread across his face. Sebastian’s thumb gently brushed my damp cheek in small circular motions. Last time he said that to me he told me I looked like I was walking the plank. I wondered if I looked like that now? Standing in his shower with my clothes still on yes I can confirm I look out of place.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” I managed to say. We were standing nearly nose to nose. The air he expelled I breathed it in. I concentrated on the light feel of Sebastian’s warm hand holding my face like it was precious glass that would break if he should let go. The touch of him shouldn’t calm me as much as it does. He was someone I didn't want to get use to, but I don’t want him to let go in the meantime.

“Well neither do I.” Sebastian’s back was taking all of the direct contact of the water from the shower head above us. Water pooled down around his hair and face. He stood unaffected as if it didn’t bother him. Being naked and drenched from head to toe was a good look for Sebastian. That maddening fragrance of his skin was making it very hard to have restraint to refrain me from bury my nose in the crook of his neck and breath him in. But that’s exactly what I want to do. “If you’re scared just be scarier than whatever is scaring you.” A shiver traveled over my skin as I met Sebastian’s gaze.

A slight chuckle rumbled out from his chest. “So you’re stealing my lines now, Thumper? And isn’t that from Bambi?”

“If you are inclined to ask then maybe you’re not worthy.” I took another step closer to him not breaking eye contact, moving into him as close as I could get. He stared down at me and I could feel the slowest trail of heat travel up my thighs. I wanted him to kiss me.

Within an instant the air between us changed and his expression turned to something unreadable. “I’m not.” His voice rasped. Sebastian’s head swooped down, his mouth finally finding my cold wet lips.

He took no time getting reacquainted. Good to know that we were on the same page here. With ease he carefully guided me backwards until my back pressed against the cool tiles. His mouth parted over mine with a slight exchange of air. I breathed him in before I slipped my tongue in tasting droplets of water that invaded his mouth. Sebastian devoured my mouth with small nips and rhythmic kisses that fell in sync with one another. We kissed with a tortured slowness that was nearly unbearable. Familiarizing our lips and tongue over and over, memorizing every inch until my jaw went sore. Still it wasn’t enough. Sebastian’s hands clasped around my waist to steady himself as if he were in need of an anchor. Yet I was the one growing weak at the knees. Rubbing my body against him created a sensuous friction that made me wonder why was I still clothed. Lust rippled through my bloodstream as I gripped his neck tighter urging him for more.

A frustrated groan slipped from my mouth as I arched up against him. I was desperate to get this dress off of me. Sebastian’s palms went up my back and up the column of my neck, until his fingers tangled around damp strands of my hair. His tongue steadily plunging into my mouth, pulling on the bottom of my lip with his teeth. I reared my head back needing air to fill into my lungs.

“Why haven’t you taken my dress off?” My eyes fluttered opened. I panted for air I’d gladly let him keep stealing. Sebastian looked back at me with musing curiosity. His gaze grew less fierce and he swallowed back his own growing need.

“Is that what you want me to do?” He swiped a wet strand of hair off of my forehead. The answer to that was simple. Yet, when Sebastian asked he made the question feel more complicated than it should have been. On my own accord I shimmied out of my dress , letting it fall around my feet. I stepped out of it and kicked it off to the side. I was left standing in nothing but my light blue cotton underwear. Bravo Natalie you packed the most unsexiest underwear you could find. Sebastian’s eyes never drifted below my neck. I could see the pulse in his throat thrumming rapidly. I didn’t know what to do with my hands they stayed down my side anxiously balled in a tight fist. His silence was going to be the death of me.

“S-Say something.” My teeth chattered together through my sex filled daze. For as long we were standing there the water was turning cold and it showed. Sebastian was too perceptive to have not noticed my exposed breast.

“I don’t want to rush things with you Natalie.” He stared down at me with half hooded eyes. His lips were blood rushed from being thoroughly kissed. A sliver of self doubt weaseled its way into my head.

“You want to stop?” I managed to keep my voice leveled. I wont deny the disappointment I felt. “I clearly did not read this situation right.” I started to ease away from him to make a mad dash to leave the confinement of the shower, but Sebastian stilled his hands on my face. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over my damp skin in. I tried to back away from his hold. We always seemed to pick the most awkward moments to go quiet. Sebastian kept my face locked between his hands. Unexpectedly he captured my mouth against his. Kissing me with a deliberate slowness that made my brain got to complete mush. “If you think I don’t want to fuck you then you read me all wrong.” He ran his fingers along my neck I could barely feel that his touch was there.

Well Shit.

Words, Natalie, use your words! Licking my lips in nerves still tasting him. I was too taken by surprise to reply. I wouldn’t necessarily describe myself as shy or a bashful person. I’m in his shower with my nipples pressing against his chest for crying out loud. But in more ways than one I am finding myself constantly taken off guard by him. I’m in a constant state of not knowing what to expect around him and frankly I think I enjoy it too much. Blinking rapidly to keep the water from going in my eyes, I placed my hands on his chest to keep him a few inches away to keep some of my self control. “But?” It came out of my mouth more like a aggravated sigh.

Sebastian voiced echoed my own in a low murmur next to my ear. “But.” The corner of Sebastian’s mouth kicked up allowing his smile that I was quickly becoming enamored by take up his face. I impatiently waited for him to finish whatever he was about to say. Stalling at best Sebastian pressed an openmouthed kissed under my ear following a path down my throat. “I meant what I said Natalie.” He paused, he kissed alongside the nape of my shoulder. His tongue moved across my skin, Sebastian’s grip shifted lower to my ass lifting me higher against his chest. My legs voluntarily locked around his waist.

Sebastian shifted his body inward almost cocooning mine into his like a shield. Trailing kisses down my bare chest. I wrapped my hands around his shoulders and my hips started to move as if having their own agenda feeling his erection brush against my inner thigh. “I said I’d risk just about everything to be near you, but I want to get know every part of you first.” He said, his mouth still lingering over my chest between kisses.

“Oh.” I answered breathlessly. Sebastian’s lips were leaving chills in its wake. “I want to know the first book you read that made you want to become a writer.” Actually it was a movie called Stand By Me that made me love stories. Though I couldn’t seem to verbally string together a coherent sentence for the life of me. I lost all ability to speak.

Sebastian clearly didn’t care by the way his left hand teasingly traced the curve of my breast. “I want to hear all about where you grew up and if you played a pointless musical instrument.” Nashville and the Glockenspiel which depending on how you look at it technically doesn’t count because I’m pretty sure everyone in elementary school dabbled in it.

 “I want you to tell me that the craziest thing that you have ever done does not involve you jumping out of a plane. Because Natalie I want you and it’s making me scared shitless.” He said right as his mouth hovered over my nipple before roughly capturing it in his mouth. Sebastian’s tongue toyed with it at a languid pace, grazing his teeth around it. I drew in quick breath, inhaling in his scent that permeated through my nose and dammit if doesn’t smell delicious enough to eat.

“I think your definition of slow might be misconstrued.” Another gasp escaped me as my head fell against the wall. My hands fumbled in his hair pulling him closer, I wasn’t exactly complaining by the directness in contact. I’m pretty sure my body would have wept at the thought of him not finishing what I clearly started. Sebastian was clearly hell bent on delivering the sweetest torture while holding me.

“Believe me this is slow.” He reassured me, though I wasn’t entirely convinced. With carefulness he guided both of my legs back to solid ground. I kept myself pressed against the shower due to the fact the sensation consuming me whole was weakening me in the best way possible.

Without warning or hesitation Sebastian lowered himself to the floor our eyes locked on one another. He watched me as if he was waiting for a flicker of doubt from me. I peered down at him while he hooked his fingers under the straps of my underwear on both sides gradually rolling them down my legs. Sebastian eyes never faltered ,he released a ragged breath as he gently lifted my ankles to guide my legs out of them. He was no longer shielding the water from the shower.

My brain suddenly decided to unleash a wave of unwanted emotions to run ramped though my mind at the most inconvenient time. I didn’t know what tomorrow would look like or even next week when I boarded my flight back home. It just now dawned on me that he also has a home to get back to as well. He had somehow entered my bloodstream and I didn’t know where to begin to get rid of him. Apart of me hoped there wasn’t a cure. Still I wondered if I was just a distraction from his grief. There was a high chance Sebastian was emotionally unavailable and I was a vulture claiming him as my own. He belonged to someone else and she took Sebastian’s heart with her. There was no chance in hell he had any left over for me.

Having a channel to my thoughts with an impossible slowness be pried my knees apart before leaving chaste kisses on the sides of my legs. “Do you ever give that beautiful mind of yours a rest?”

“I consider Saturday and Sunday my off days, but you never know when inspiration strikes and then I’m spending my entire weekend scribbling over notes in my journal all day long. Then doing outlines on my laptop.” Wishing I could swallow my fucking tongue! Saving me from my own rambling. Sebastian abruptly silenced me for good when his skillful mouth eagerly found the one spot my overactive brain wasn’t connected to.

That was by far the longest and most raunchiest shower I have ever had. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for realization to sink in so that the guilt and awkwardness could take turns tormenting me. I waited and I waited but the feelings never came. Instead I felt dizzy. My head wouldn’t stop spinning and the embarrassingly dopey grin I was sporting was enough to make me feel like the ground would crumble beneath me. I wouldn’t care because the cloud I was drifting on would catch me. On the miraculous chance I was having an extremely vivid dream, no one pinch me.

In the midst of my non alcoholic haze I somehow ended up on the private balcony outside Sebastian’s room. We were laying on a hammock that I was convinced was not meant for two. Sebastian thought otherwise and now I found myself laying practically on top of him. Not to mention I had on one of his long sleeved dark blue t-shirt that looked liked a baggy mini dress on me. On the front it had the words “Property of NASA” written across in bold white letters. Again not my idea to wear his clothes. But I did not complain.

“The view around us is incredible and yet the way you’re studying the moon I would’ve sworn you have never seen it before.” Sebastian’s voice was the ice breaker to the comfortable silence that fell over us.

“Why are you watching me?”I questioned, as I readjusted myself so that I could get more room on the hammock. I lifted my self up a little to shift my body so that I could be on my side. Sebastian, who I was quickly learning was very hyperaware of everything I did. He moved his right leg to hang over the hammock and scooted himself closer to the edge so that I could fit my entire body in the crook of his arm.

“What can I say I like looking at what I’m holding better.” The palm of his hand was right above my ass. I could feel the tip of his index finger draw mindless shapes over my hipbone. Apart from listening to the rhythmic sound of the dormant sea. I could hear the sound of Sebastian breathing in and out, as if he was having to control it. When I tilted my head up his mind looked far away. He looked at me like it was the first time he saw me. I couldn't settle the butterflies metamorphosing inside my stomach. I found it almost overwhelming. 

“When I was little my mom moved us around a lot, she’d always grow bored of our surroundings. Which would eventually result to moving on to the next state. The only thing that stayed the same for me was right up there. To remind me some things don’t have to change, plus I thought it followed me and I’d always make up stories about it. I know it’s cheesy, but in my defense I was six and it sorta just stuck.” My mouth turned downward in my typical embarrassed fashion. I had no where to hide my face so that I wouldn’t have to see his reaction. I glanced away. I felt a firm yet gentle grip around my chin pulling my face up closer to meet his. Sebastian stared at me no longer than three heart beats. Yes, I counted.

“So the reason you’re all the way here in Capri is to see if the moon is the same?” His voice was deep. The way he was concentrating on me I couldn’t tell if he was joking or being serious. I expected laughter to ensure at any second.

“Of course not. . . I read about it.” I stated, my voiced already laced with self consciousness. Yet, for some unexplained reason I kept babbling on. “According to Homer when Ulysses was sailing along the coast of Capri here is where he first heard the beguiling voices of Sirens. Regardless of the fictional elements I still wanted to see this place for myself.”

Sebastian smiled before turning his attention towards the night sky, letting my face go. “You’re something else Natalie Foster.”

“I could say the same about you.” I said matter-of-fact.

Sebastian made a sound, I didn’t know whether he was agreeing with me or dismissing it. “No,” He exhaled. " I'm the guy who came here to visit the parents of the son my recently deceased girlfriend was madly in love with."

"What?" I said loudly.

"You already met Gabriel's father." Sebastian said nonchalantly, as he swayed the hammock back and forth. I twisted around so that I could lay on my stomach to face him. Recalling back to the people I met here was our guide Ian and Alessio. Unless Ian drank from the fountain of youth my guess is with Alessio. 

My eyes widened. "Wait. What?" I repeated looking at him quizzically, still unable to follow along with what he was saying. 

"Long before Bianca met me she was head over heels for this guy she met while in the Peace Corps. She told me they bonded over their passion to do humanitarian work in different countries. Bianca had a huge heart and when she loved something she was all in." Sebastian says, giving me a weak smile. 

Not knowing if I should prompt him to say more, because talking about her looked like it was cutting open a fresh wound. I definitely didn't want to be the one to add to his misery. Though after what just happened between the two of us I'm sure he could let me in just a tiny inch. The line I drew regarding our friendship was already blurred and definitely crossed. "What happened to Gabriel?" I asked slowly. 

"The two of them had a lot of goals they wanted to accomplish together. Remember when I told you earlier she was a bit of a thrill seeker?" I nodded my head at his question.

"Well they were one in the same. She told me they wanted to do all kinds of outrageous shit before they got married. Gabriel caught pneumonia before they could ever make it to the alter. His immune system just got weaker and weaker. Intent on keeping their promise Bianca never stopped. She'd visit his parents from time to time and when we started going out I wasn't going to be the one to stop her from coming out here. Once I really got to know Alessio and Nina they became really good friends of mine. . .so I thought." His voice trailed off. 

"He seemed so nice last time I saw him talk to you and if I heard correctly his wife wanted you to visit them." I was propped up to face Sebastian genuinely interested and taken by surprise at how the truth was shaping out to be. 

Sebastian’s eyes evaded. mine."Alessio didn't show up when we searched for your journal and he was brief with me when I spoke with him on the phone. I hadn't even heard from Nina. I think without Bianca being here it's weird for me to even still visit them. Their son was going to marry her and she never really could let him go. The shittiest part is I was the one robbed of a last goodbye. Her folks claimed Bianca wouldn't have wanted a public service." A devastating wave filled the air around us. For a few seconds I stayed motionless trying to comprehend it all. Everything Sebastian just told me was gut wrenching. I had never known anything like it and I felt even more horrible that in the beginning I had made everything about me.

Tensing, he said, "I didn't mean to ruin your night and you sure as hell didn't sign up for this." 

"You're absolutely correct." I stated flatly, scooting up closer so that Sebastian and I were at eye level. "On the top ten most exciting things to do in Capri the travel blogger didn't include you on the list." Bending down I placed a tender kissed alongside Sebastian's lower throat.  His eyelids fell shut and he exhaled a deep breath. I couldn't begin to fathom the heartache I'm sure he felt for her. I just hoped liked hell I wasn't making it worse. 

"Thank you Natalie." Sebastian cleared his throat speaking in a more vulnerable tone. 

"For what?" I asked.

"For reading The Odyssey." He looked like he wanted to say something else but he didn't. He steadied his protective grip around me hugging me close to his bare chest like I would fall out of the hammock. I sighed. I knew I could stay here forever. Sparks went off in my chest.  I was in over my head ,that I was certain of. I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside. 

"You know what we need?" I said with a tenor of determination. I wanted to do something to change the solemn mood that seemed to have taken over the atmosphere. Sebastian suddenly rolled over on his side pinning me under him, pulling my bottom lip with his teeth. "More of this?" He asked suggestively. 

I shook my head while grinning wide. "Gelato." I said, my voice breathless. 

"Gelato?" Sebastian repeated like it was a foreign concept. When the word rolled off his tongue it sounded a thousand times better. I said it before and I'll say it again his voice made everything sound sexier. 

"I think the hotel restaurant is still open. I can be back in twenty minutes top." I told him. 

"Make it ten." Sebastian ordered.

"You never really pegged me as the bossy type." He leaned forward so that he was completely hovering over me. I could've imagined a thousand scenarios of how my trip would've gone, laying underneath a man as gorgeous as this one was not on my itinerary. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing as well. A bashful smile ghosted Sebastian’s lips. "I just like being near you." He said in a hushed tone. 

I was ashamed to admit that I was easily affected by him. I forgot everything that I was about to say, because suddenly I felt Sebastian's mouth nip at the soft skin covering my hip and I yelped in surprise. Which caused me to come down from the hammock. I'm dangerously ticklish and my flailing limbs are lethal. I pushed my shirt back down and tiptoed backwards as I walked back into the room. Sebastian, who remained unbothered by my lack of poise eyed me in amusement. "I...need...pants." 

"I have some sweatpants in that duffel bag behind the closet door." He exhaled a quiet laugh. I scurried off to go find a pair. Riffling through nearly a dozen pair, even his clothes smelled like him. I settled for black ones that I quickly got into, pulling the drawstrings as tight as they would go so that they were secured around my hips. I couldn't walk around the hotel barefoot and I draw the line at wearing his shoes.

I grudgingly slipped into my dampened shoes. Looking down at my ghastly assemble I knew I was a fashion victim. I couldn't muster the courage to steal a look at my reflection when I went inside of the bathroom. I was able to comb through my knotted hair with my fingers and created a side braid. Walking back out I caught Sebastian with his arms rested behind his head still in the hammock looking up at the moon. Sensing my near presence like a magnet he turned to face me. 

I shifted uncomfortably at the weight of his longing stare. "I know I know," I sighed ruefully. "I look..."I racked my brain for the right synonyms; horrible, disarrayed, a hot mess.

"Breathtaking." Sebastian said, cutting through my thoughts. 

While I walked through the main lobby that is exactly what I wanted to keep in mind as I passed by people who were dressed as if they stepped right off of the runway. I didn't mind the few stares I got along the way to the restaurant. I knew my eye sore of an outfit was out of place, but I no longer cared. I followed the trail of bodies coming and going in a direction that led me straight into the luxurious restaurant located on the terrace overlooking the Marina Grande and the Bay of Naples. Every time I caught sight of the  enchanting deep blue sea at night filled me with a serene calmness. Too bad it was going to be short lived. 

I assumed the kitchen was still open by the way people waited for their reservations to open up. The seating area was discreetly arranged. Sitting at a table I assumed made guest feel like they were in their own private sector. Fenced in by an intricate metal railing that was wrapped in a florescent deep red bougainvillea plants that twisted into it.Tall black umbrellas with wooden poles canopied over the tables covered in crisp white cloths. Chilled bottles of wine sat at every table alongside glass pitchers of water. Tiny flicker of flames was trapped somehow in the center of the table which kept the individual areas dimly lit. Trees that were nearly half the size of palm trees had full bloomed branches that hung high above my head. The leaves were curved inward almost making a cloud of greenery, and tiny lemons were dangling from it. 

My shoes slapped against the wooden floorboard making me also be seen and heard. Yippie. I spotted a woman frantically tapping away at touch screen monitor wearing khaki shorts and light blue polo with the hotel logo on the front. "Is there some sort of dessert menu I could look at? Also if possible could I charge my order to my room?" I asked her kindly. It had dawned on me that my pockets were empty and I forgot my wallet. I was internally hoping she would not judge me because of my appearance. 

When she looked up at me a genuine smile broke out on her face. "Yes we do. I'd be happy to provide you with one." Her saccharine accent was so lovely to hear. Taking a quick look at her name tag pinned to her shirt. Elisa handed me a rectangular menu with only the names of various desserts and drinks. My eyes quickly scanned over it looking for any mention of gelato. I squinted my eyes in effort of trying to adjust my vision on the tiny words. No glasses or credit cards I came so unprepared. Ah ha! I found it! The gelato....not my glasses. 

The happy dance I was doing was thankfully in my head, because someone was now beside me. I gave Elisa my order, almond honey butter for me because why the hell not? For Sebastian I chose a safer flavor and just went with chocolate. "I'll just need a name so the charge can be made." 

"Natalie Foster." I told her, as I leaned over to pass the menu back to her. I quickly pulled back not realizing I was hovering over someone seated in a wheel chair. 

"Wow." She stated in disbelief. I turned to face her with an apology fresh in my mouth before she spoke up again. "You're Natalie Foster?" Her voice wasn't laced with anger, if anything she sounded excited.

"Forgive me I should've looked before I moved into you personal space! That was ill mannered of me. I'm sorry." I don't think I exhaled once while talking to her. She frantically waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss me. Which caused her glossy black hair that was cut into a bob that was longer in the front and short in the to bounce around her face. The way her dark green eyes lit up, you'd think I just told her she won the lottery. 

"I am a huge fan of your work!" She moved the wheels on her chair so she could swivel it around to face me. When I looked down that was when I noticed both of her legs were casted in thick silver metal braces all the way up to her kneecaps. I didn't know what to say usually not many readers of my books recognized me enough to come over and talk to me or they did and just didn't care. 

"Thank you!" That was all I seemed to be able to think of. 

"I'd ask you to sign something, but I only own digital copies of your books." Her smile only grew bigger and bigger. If I had to take a guess we were probably around the same age and she was hands down amongst one of the prettiest people I have ever seen. My confidence yeah it was dissipating.

"I'm just grateful there are people out there who still enjoy reading." I said, meaning every word. Feeling the admiration I extended my arm out to shake her hand. "What's your name?" 

Returning the gesture she was happy to tell me. "Bianca Jagger!" 

A burst of soft laugher came out of my mouth. "No way?" 

Bianca laughed along with me. "My parents clearly thought they were being funny. Wait till you hear my mother's maiden name."

I raised my eyebrow in anticipation of her answer. "‪Diana Ross‬." A beat of silence passed between us before we both started laughing. To others we must have look absolutely insane. Right on cue Elisa returned carrying two cups of what I knew was to be heaven in a cup. Bianca watched my movements like I was someone to actually be enamored by.

"I better get going it." I said, I turning around ready to get back to Sebastian. 

"Of course I don't want you to keep him waiting. It was really nice meeting you."  Her voice cracked.

"Likewise!" I chirped, mindlessly unaware. I walked in the same direction that I came in and the other shoe I was waiting to drop finally came down. Right down into my gelato that hit the floor.

No, it couldn't be. 

[how-to-survive-a-factory-tour]

How to Survive a Factory Tour - Chapter 5

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory FanFiction

PREVIOUS

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I am so fucking exhausted. And hungry. Well, I always am, but recently I’ve been more so than usual.

For the past few days, a lot of my co-workers have been off for Christmas. This meant little old me had to pick up god knows how many extra shifts. For the past few days, I’ve had to skip out on proper meals, only having a quick snack when I got home.

And, no, by snack, I do not mean the Wonka bar. Still haven’t eaten it. No one has.

Two days after Roman Prince won a ticket, I expect Remy to say the fourth ticket’s been won. You know, since there’s been a pattern of them being found every two days. However, when Remy comes in, he simply orders his drink, chats a bit and leaves. It’s honestly surprising, especially with the tour being in five days.

Anyway, I continue working for the next few hours, praying the tips at the end will be worth it. Then, finally, my manager comes out and dismisses me, but not before dividing my share of the money in the tip jar. I hang up my apron, pull on my hoodie and leave the shop.

If there’s one good thing about being poor in Florida, it’s that you never have to worry about freezing. With winters of 75°F, it doesn’t matter that my thin, patched-up hoodie is the warmest thing I own.

It doesn’t mean the walk home is perfect, however. My stomach’s being as loud as an earthquake. Shut up, will you. Just wait until Mom comes home and hopefully she brings some dinner.

I soon arrive at our little shack, gently opening the front door and stepping inside. “Thomas, I’m home!”

I pause, waiting for my brother to reply. There’s no response. “Thomas? Hello?” Nothing. “Thomathy? Thomas the dank engine?”

Still nothing. I feel my heart rate picking up. Oh god, what if part of the ceiling collapsed on him... o-or the lack of food in the house caught up on him and he starved...

All the worst possibilities come to mind. Thomas is supposed to be here, he always is when I come home. Something’s wrong, he’s hurt, I just know it. I can’t breathe. Everything’s going blurry. My heart’s thudding too hard.

Suddenly, everything’s black.

...

”Virgil! Virgil, wake up!”

I come back to my senses to find myself led on our lumpy couch, and someone leaning over me.

”Th-Thomas...? You’re okay?”

”Virge! Thank god you’re awake! I was so worried... What happened?”

I sit up, Thomas helping me adjust. “I... You weren’t home. I got scared something had happened, and...”

”Panic attack, huh?” Thomas asks. I nod. “I’m really sorry, Virge, I should’ve left a note so you knew I was heading out...”

It was only then I notice a shopping bag at Thomas’ feet. “What’s that?”

Thomas takes a deep breath. “I have a confession. While I have put most of the money you earned for me towards college, I’ve also been saving up for something else.” He reaches down into the bag and pulls out...

”A video camera? What do you need a camera for?”

”I felt bad that you and Mom were doing so much for me but I wasn’t doing anything in return. I’ve wanted to get a job for a while, but I didn’t know how to get one that fit around my school schedule. I decided I needed to do something where I can organise my own hours and I didn’t need to get a whole lot, so I figured maybe...I could do YouTube. I’ve got the camera, and Remy said I could record at his and edit and upload on his computer. Hopefully, I’ll get enough viewers to monetize and get some money to help us, all the while making fun content.”

”Thomas... that is fucking brilliant.”

Thomas smiles. “Thanks. But none of that matters right now. You literally just passed out, you need to get your strength back.” He gets up and leaves the room, heading to the kitchen. A few moments later, he comes back and pushes something into my hand. “Eat.”

I look down at the bar. “I... I can’t.”

”Why not?”

”The money was meant to be for you...”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “It’s okay! It was only a dollar or so for this. You deserve a reward for everything you’ve done for me. Now, open it and eat.”

I sigh, knowing Thomas won’t give in. He can be really stubborn if he needs to be. I start peeling back the wrapper.

HO. LY. SHIT.

GOLD. FUCKING GOLD.

Thomas and I both stare at the ticket. He breaks the silence.

”This is gonna make a great first video.”

I pause before holding it out to him. “You have it.”

”What?! No way in hell! You won it and bought it with your own money. And as I said, you deserve a reward.” Thomas pushes the ticket back into my hands. “Virgil, you’re going to Willy Wonka’s factory.”

-

”FOURTH TICKET!”

I practically slide into the room upon hearing Emile’s yell. I plop next to him on the sofa and watch the TV screen.

There are three guys there, and I can’t tell which the winner is. One is wearing sunglasses, a white t-shirt, a black jacket, black jeans, and has an arm around the shoulders of the person in the middle.

The one in the middle has brown hair, and is wearing a purple shirt, ripped black skinny jeans and a patched black and purple hoodie. He looks pretty uncomfortable at all the attention.

The third looks identical to the second. He looks more comfortable on camera than who I presume is his twin brother. He was wearing a grey shirt, an old brown jacket, and jeans.

As I watch, they’re revealed to be called Remy Sleep, and Virgil and Thomas Sanders. Virgil’s the one who won the ticket. He seems so shy! Well, I’ll make sure to make him feel welcome during the tour.

Speaking of the tour, Virgil lives in Florida, and in the same town as the Wonka factory! That’s awesome! He’s sooooo lucky. Imagine being able to buy Wonka bars nice and fresh. I bet they’d be even more delicious then.

Oh boy, four out of five tickets have already been won with five days to go! I can’t wait to find out who wins the last one!

-

It seems my predictions have been proven right yet again. The next ticket was found in Florida. Just the one in Australia left now.

There’s not much else to say about the ticket being won, really. Nothing worth saying. Robert still blames me, so some things never change.

Joan and Talyn have been trying to find a way to hide a camera on my person so they can see the factory for themselves. It’s rather funny to hear their extravagant ideas, though I doubt I’ll try any. They’ll have to settle with my explanation.

They’re going to be coming with me to Florida, though. Of course my family aren’t, but Joan and Talyn didn’t want me to be alone, so got tickets for the flight too.

I totally didn’t beg them to come because I have a fear of flying...

Okay, I watch Air Crash Investigation too much. It’s educational and very intriguing, if slightly anxiety inducing.

But the point is, they’re coming with me. We’re arriving the day before the tour and leaving the day after. Joan and Talyn are going to be heading up to Orlando the day of the tour to go to Universal Studios. They’re going to meet up with me once the tour’s over. Everything’s arranged, and I’ve even written up schedules for us all so no one will be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Some may call it excessive, I call it efficient.

But I digress. The point is I’m fully ready and prepared...

To wipe this in my brother’s face.

-

Oh, how perfect! An emo nightmare just won the final ticket and is coming with us on the tour! How wonderful!

That was sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.

Call me quick to judge, but I’m not too fond of those edgy, melodramatic, dark emo types. They just seem to always bring down the mood. I’d rather my time at the greatest factory in the entire world didn’t be ruined by some moody, angsty, and by the looks of it, very socially awkward guy.

But I guess it’s too late now. He’s got a ticket, he’s going. Fun.

However, lets brush that aside for now. There’s more interesting stuff than ‘Virgil’ or whatever his name was winning a ticket.

The day after I’d won my ticket, my dads were out so I hosted a party at my place to celebrate my victory. It was great. We played spin the bottle and I got to kiss none other than school heartthrob Nate Christopher. It was probably one of the greatest moments of my life. Valerie even took a picture and sent it to me so I could “treasure the moment I could pretend Nate was gay and into me”.

Why are all the best guys straight? Let’s hope I’ll find the one in Florida and he’ll actually be gay, or bi, or pan, or just likes dudes in general.

Anyway, in the middle of the party, I got a call from Pa. He said he and dad had arranged, not just flights and hotels, but a two-week holiday in America. First, a week and two days in Florida, two days in the town with the factory, then the morning after the tour we’ll drive up to Orlando to go to Disney World. Then, we’ll fly up to New York, which is where we’ll spend the rest pf the two weeks, because Dad managed to get us all tickets to see Be More Chill on Broadway! I’m so excited, it’s going to be the best two weeks of my life.

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NEXT

Tags: @clone-number-1, @pumpkinminette, @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

The Good Life: Chapter 9

Hello, my lovelies!This chapter is late because I lost track of time and didn’t realize that I hadn’t edited it and queued it to post on Friday or Saturday like I intended to do, so sorry about that! I’m trying to be better about posting, I really am, but I’m also a mess of a human being and am not as bad about it as I could be or as I have been before (insert references to my forgotten WIPs that I doubt I’ll ever pick up again)!

Need to get caught up? The Good Life: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 , Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8

If you want to be added (or  removed) from the tags list for this story, just feel free to let me know!

@pink-royaute @believethaticanandiwill @milllott @likeashootingstarfades @i-dream-of-emus @eveerez

The Good Life: Chapter 9

Rae dug through her purse, trying to use the light from her cell phone to find her keys as she stood outside the front door of her apartment.

“Fucking finally,” Rae huffed as she found the keychain that her apartment key was attached to, “we have got to get the bloody light out her repaired!”

It was much later than Rae had anticipated coming home, so as she unlocked the door and placed her keys back into her purse, she tried to open the door as quietly as she possibly could. She had barely made it into the apartment and relocked the front door behind her when she heard the distinct sound of a door opening and the dull thud of bare feet against the floor of the dimly lit hallway.

“I’m so sorry I woke you,” Rae apologized when Finn came into view of the kitchen as she was getting herself a glass of water.

“S’fine. I wasn’t sleeping,” Finn muttered as he walked to stand on the opposite side of the long kitchen counter from Rae, “Are you just getting home from work now?”

“Oh, uh, no. I did work my late afternoon shift today, but afterwards I had made plans to meet someone for drinks.”

“Oh! Alright,” Finn nodded as he brought his thumb up to his mouth to nibble at a slightly uneven edge of his nail, “I wasn’t sure where you were, but I also didn’t want to come across as being super clingy and paranoid by calling or texting you.”

“Did you stay awake just to make sure I got home safe?” Rae asked when she looked down and noticed that Finn was already wearing comfortable clothing and was stifling yet another yawn.

Instead of replying, Finn simply shrugged and followed Rae as she walked from their kitchen into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Finn sat down on the couch next to her and gestured for her to rest her feet on his lap, the position they ended up in more often than not when they sat on the couch together.

“Did you just go get drinks with a coworker after you both got out of work, or…?” Finn asked as casually as he could.

“Uh, no...”

“Was it, like, a date or something?” Finn asked when Rae didn’t elaborate further.

“Sort of,” Rae mumbled, “This guy I met at the party last weekend crossed paths with me on campus and he asked me to meet him for drinks today. I think you might know him, actually. He’s Chop’s mate, Blue.”

“You went on a date with Blue?” Finn questioned, making no attempt to disguise his tone of voice.

“Well, it was just a drink or two, but yeah I suppose.” Rae replied with a dismissive shrug.

“Huh, wouldn’t have expected that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Finn?”

“He just doesn’t seem like your type, I guess.”

“And what exactly is my type, since you seem to know so much about who I do and don’t like,” Rae asked with her eyebrows raised as she looked beside her on the couch, waiting for Finn to make eye contact with her.

“I dunno, but not Blue.” He muttered, looking up only briefly.

“Why not? He’s a nice guy,” Rae began.

“Oh, yeah! He’s definitely nice, he’s just really...well, he’s sort of…dim-witted.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it, yes,” Rae replied with a chuckle.

“Did you at least have a good time with Blue?”

“Yeah I had a really good time,” Rae replied before looking over at Finn, “but there likely won’t be a second date, since I know that’s the real question you were asking.”

Finn chuckled sheepishly ad began idly pulling on a loose string that was hanging off of the cuff of Rae’s jeans.

“Do you wish the date had gone better?”

“Not necessarily. I mostly just said yes because he asked and I thought that I had nothing left to lose. Worst case scenario, I go to a pub and have a drink or two with some shit guy and then come back home and tell you all about how shit it was. I had a good time and I liked talking to him, but I think we both are happy with just keeping it friendly and platonic.”

“That’s alright then, I guess.”

“I think so too. Chloe, Arch, and some of my coworkers have been on my ass about ‘getting out there’ and dating more, but I’m not too concerned about it. I like where I’m at now. Things are comfortable now, you know?” Rae replied with a wiggle of her feet that were still resting across Finn’s lap.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Finn muttered, “We never talked about that before we moved in together, dating, I mean.”

“What?”

“Oh! I mean, uh, like if one of us is dating and gets into a relationship or whatever. We never talked about each of our rules about bringing people over or inviting dates into the apartment or whatnot.”

“I guess it never really occurred to me. I’m alright with you bringing home dates, just let me know first or let me know if you’d prefer that I not be in the apartment while she’s over or whatever,”

“Cool. Um, same, I guess. But I doubt you’d have to worry about me bringing any girls home. I haven’t been dating much recently either, much to Archie and the gang’s chagrin.”

“They just love to meddle in everyone else’s business. I think I’d be more surprised if they didn’t try to dictate my love life, honestly.”

“Yeah, you think that by now I’d be used to it, but apparently not!” Finn agreed with a laugh.

Finn and Rae sat quietly on the couch together for a few minutes before Rae could hear Finn struggling to stifle a yawn.

“Alright, Finnley, it’s way past your bedtime! I’m tired, I know that you’re tired and have to be awake early for work, and I need all the beauty sleep that I can get, so I think it’d be best if we both try to get some sleep now.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Finn began before finally giving in to the yawn that he’d been trying to avoid, “I had a long day at work and have been looking forward to going to bed since I got home this evening, but I didn’t want to fall asleep and miss a call or text from you, since I wasn’t sure why you were running late. I was too busy worrying about ya to fall asleep.”

Rae looked over at Finn as she lifted her legs off of his lap and allowed him to stand up, smirking when she realized that Finn was likely unaware of what he’d just said out loud in his state of exhaustion.

“All the more reason for you to get in bed now then,” Rae said as she placed her hands on Finn’s shoulders from behind and steered him to walk down the hallway towards the open door of his bedroom.

“Good night, Rae!” Finn mumbled as he leaned to give Rae a light peck on her cheek before walking into his room and laying down face-first on his unmade bed.

“Sweet dreams, Finnley,” Rae said softly as she turned off his bedroom light and closed his door behind her as she walked to her own bedroom.

A/N: So I have the next few chapters all mapped out and I’m excited about them, but I wasn’t sure how long I was going to drag out the whole Rae-goes-on-dates-with-Not-Finn plot line or if I wanted to make Finn get jealous (trick question, yes I do. Jealous Finn is attractive af) and I’m still not sure tbh. Could this be the last we hear of Blue? Will Rae keep going on dates but with other people and will Finn be jealous about it? I guess we’ll all just have to stick around and keep reading to see what happens!

As always, thank you to everyone who read/liked/replied to/reblogged the last chapter, seeing those little notifications never fail to make my entire day! Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends!

[shark-myths]

Writing Reflection: 2018

I was tagged by @horsegirlharry, who i will smooch in person in ONE WEEK! 

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 15. I'm trying not to feel critical about my output this year: I was distracted by ~boy problems and emotional turmoil for a lot of 2018, so I absolutely slayed some journals but neglected my fic. but I also tackled some difficult projects, some of which I'm really proud of, and translated a lot of those big emotions back into writing, so there's a lot to give myself credit for.

2. Word count posted for the year: 224,001

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting)

Roman Candle Hearts

I'm A Wing, I'm A Prayer

The Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique

your hips, your lips, are mine

in space, no one can hear you misgender me

Girl Firsts

halfway to your heart (starting from your knees)

Boys Next Door/Assholes

Vices & Vices

Early Morning Company

Jaws of Death

Baby You're A Haunted House

The Fixed Stars of Heaven

Sell Out Girl

Think of All The Fellas I Haven't Kissed

4. Fandoms I wrote for: Fall Out Boy, Battlestar Galactica, Panic! at the Disco, My Chemical Romance

5. Pairings: Pete/Patrick, Starbuck/Apollo, Pete/Brendon, Brendon/Ryan, Patrick/Michael Day, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Joe/Andy

6. Story with the most:

Boys Next Door/Assholes, aka the peterick SUMMER BOYFRIENDS au, aka the fic I wrote about falling in love with my ex that captures the sweetness and suffering of new summer love in a very specific and tactile way. It has the most hits, kudos, and comments of anything I wrote in 2018. I'm so glad you guys loved it so much!

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

Sell Out Girl, the sequel to girl out boy, is incredibly important to me and I'm so fucking proud of how it turned out. emotionally, i am prouder of the girl out boy stories  than anything else i've ever done. girlfic is how I am cleaning my wounds and healing my heart, and it is an honor to be doing that with you walking alongside me, and being touched and changed too. this fic was incredibly emotionally demanding but also, on a technical level, easy: there was lots of rambly internal monologues and angst, glitter-sharp language and poetical pain, which is my comfort zone as a writer for sure.

on a technical and writerly level, the one I'm most proud of is Baby You're A Haunted House, because i wrote it *fast*, in a fandom I'm not comfortable or familiar in, in a style I don't usually use, and to achieve a very specific artistic effect with the unreliable narrator and shifting sands of reality, while heartbroken. so I'm pleased as fuck with how it came out. it's one of my favorite things I've written in the past several years, and the perfect kind of challenge for me.

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

ugh, The Fixed Stars of Heaven . I usually love everything I write, but my experience of writing this fic was terrible. I was never inspired (except when researching the ISS and zero-g botany!) and the epistolary format meant I didn’t know how to develop the kind of tension I *live* for. the whole time I was writing, I didn’t go back and reread (a typical part of my process for matching tone) because I loathed it so much! I kept saying “well, something has to be my worst story” about it... and I still feel that way.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

It's impossible to choose--I like my writing a lot, that's why I write the way i do. all of Baby You're A Haunted House and I'm A Wing, I'm A Prayer are beautiful to me; the love letter Pete writes in Boys Next Door/Assholes; and the whole bathtub scene from chapter 5 of Sell Out Girl, of which this is the very best part:

“Pete is safe and warm and submerged, an egg in a mermaid’s purse, waiting to swim out as a shark whenever she’s ready. She holds her breath and feels her baby beat within her. She looks up at Pat and fears nothing, nothing but love.”

12. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

every review I get makes impact on my heart. I take screenshots and save my favorites; you guys bolster me and keep me going. The best and most important reactions are the ones I get on Girl Out Boy stuff, and the outpouring of fanworks and support means the world to me. especially the way you guys showed up for and stood with me during my difficult breakup this year—wow. I love you so much.

my favorite reviews I’ve gotten this year have been a few different people who told me I was skilled at capturing the feeling of falling in love. as a feelings-and-process oriented romance writer, that means the world to me! I never know what plots my stories are going to have (my characters always surprise me), but I always know how I want a fic to feel. I’m never more honored than when you feel it too.

13. A time when writing was really, really hard:

during the slow-motion process of one of my romantic relationships coming apart in September and October! I was so anxious and keyed up and self-obsessed and miserable during that time, I literally couldn’t bear to write, and when I tried I just kept wrecking the Girl Out Boys’ lives. you guys carried me through.

14. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I don’t want to spoil Sell Out Girl, but a ship I don’t typically ship popped up and I went with it, and I was exactly as surprised as everyone reading that it happened and that it felt so right and good!

15. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i tried new types of projects, like the fucking epistolary scifi fic, a flash fiction exercise, the unreliable narrator trope, and sequels. i wrote in a couple fandoms I'm less comfortable in, fairly often off of other people's prompts. I am trying to hone a cleaner writing style: I spend so much time lost and rambly in describing how characters feel, my stories lose a lot of chances for action and motion. i like my writing best when it is spare and vivid, able to actually evoke emotions rather than just tell you what they feel like. i think some of my fic this year really showcases that (like Vices & Vices ). i still grow so much as a writer, and learn so much about the craft, with each work.

i used an editing and revision process for Fixed Stars of Heaven, thanks to my dear friend JM, that i don't usually subject my work to. i also wrote through a project i was not enjoying, rather than dropping it as soon as my interest waned. my discipline as a wild, reckless writer is, slowly but surely, improving.

i wrote through my own shitty emotionally abusive relationship with a parent through the character of Andy in sell out girl, and got better at naming trauma and abuse and setting my own boundaries as a result of that.

i started reading (and a little bit writing) poetry again.

16. How do you hope to grow next year:

oh, i can't see that road! i hope i grow in ways i never expected cuz i'm faced with challenges in my work i could never have anticipated. generically, i hope i keep tightening my style and improving my discipline, and getting better at defending regular writing time.

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

- i read only works by women for the entire year of 2018, and the nourishing impact of that on my entire inner life cannot be overstated. i didn't even read a comic book or a work book if it was written by a man. i kept myself entirely pure of the labor of perspective-taking for men, or subjecting myself to men's conception of anybody else's experiential reality.

- @leyley09 my official Fic Enabler, who is SINGULARLY AND SOLEY to blame for at least two fics this year, and has encouraged my very worst ideas about a hundred more

- my unofficial cheerleading squad family on tumblr, who lifted me up and made sure i was healthy, supported, and well through my whole shitty relationship ending debacle. @glitterandrocketfuel, @secretstudentdragonblog, @allkindsofplatinumandpercocet, and @laudanumcafe -- not to mention every other beauty who commented on my sad-ass selfies or my fic. thank you, my loves.

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

EVERYTHING IS REAL

most notable and egregious examples:

- the letter pete writes for patrick in boys next door/assholes is a real love letter i gave someone

- the fight brendon and ryan have in vices & vices is a real fight i had with a partner

- the climactic kiss on the streets of new york at the end of sell out girl is my real first kiss with my new boo

the worst thing is that i don't generally farm my *past* life for my fic--everything that shows up is really recent and fresh, because i'm most interested in writing things i'm currently dealing with and experiencing. and yes, i especially steal the sex scenes.

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

be curious about yourself and your characters. if you've never written / published in a serial format, where you're only writing a week or so ahead of posting, you must try it at least once! listen to what your readers are noticing about your themes and characters! i learn so much about my the emotional resonance and direction of my stories from the people who read them and comment. my writing is so much stronger as a result of writing the majority of my work this way, and i have much more fun with it than when i write a long piece in an echo chamber with no input from you guys!

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

- i'm working on a Rent-A-Family trope + law firm AU + kidfic thing i started messing with last year

- Pete Wentz's Bisexual Realizations, a fic dreamed up and playlist-empowered by @nikadd

- a Venom AU for my beloved @immoral-crow

- Girl Out Boy hiatus fic

- and a MANIA anniversary surprise <3

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

all of my Peterick creator pals! @leyley09 @shatteredmirrors-and-lace23 @allkindsofplatinumandpercocet @laudanumcafe @glitterandrocketfuel and everyone/anyone else!

[kitwilsonsass]

Since I’ve been putting it off due to lingering sicky feels, etc.

Here’s the far too long and far too unedited and written at 4am vacation rundown NO ONE ASKED FOR! (huzzah!)

So, yeah. I arrived at the new Amtrak station in the city which is a major upgrade from the trailer park reject of station the old one was. Way roomier. Could use a coffee stand or something but yeah. Improvement. Had to go underground under the tracks and back up to get to the very cold surface, it must suck in the winter.

About an hour, hour and a half into the trip I quickly realized that a.) all I wanted to do was sleep, and b.) that my throat was burning. I assumed this was due to the absurdly cold, non-stop dry ass air conditioning, but no. This bitch got sick for her entire trip. On the plus side I had the seats to myself for the majority of the trip, but still. I barely watched any CR or anything because I was miserable the entire time. Ya don’t wanna be miserable for 10+ hours on a train.

Got to Boston, to @conniecorleone‘s frightening apartment stairs. My bag was way too heavy and she troopered through taking it up them for me without dying. So if you ever need a tank in battle, call Rachel.

Hung out a little. Ordered some Five Guys. Watched a couple episodes of the first season of American Horror Story. I get the appeal but also never needed to see Dermot Mulroney’s ass.

Rach was busy with work stuff a lot early in the week, not helped by some dumbass school shooting threat the week before and kept apologizing while still going above and beyond as a hostess while I just felt guilty for getting snot on her sheets.

Day two I colored a bit. I can do a wicked water gradient with erasable colored pencils, for the record. Hung out. Relaxed. Used a lot of Zicam and Advil. Then we were on way to The Middle East for her conehead space boyfriend.

We waited like, an hour? In the chilly mist outside? The show started like AN HOUR LATE after that. The venue was nice but man, the mood was getting close to dead at points, especially since, again, FUCKIN SICK. But Planet Booty came on and while, a little on the bordering too raunchy side, put on a fucking amazing live show. Dylan has an absurd amount of energy that should be bottled and sold, but if it were it might result in the orgypocalypse. I saw a youtube comment that said he’s ‘very touchy lol’ and truer words never spoken. That man will grind on you and sing directly in your earlobe with his tongue if you are front row and happily, I was not. Yet somehow I still ended up with his sweat on my sweater sleeve thanks to someone being a dumbass and high fiving him after their set and not being able to handle the consequences. Ahem.

THEN TWRP TOOK LIKE ANOTHER GODDAMN HALF HOUR???

But I FORGIVE THEM because they were GREAT and played Daft Punk’s Celebrate in honor of motherfuckin Canadian Thanksgiving so... fine... I guess. My only complaint is they didn’t do The Perfect Product even though I get that’s probably a weird thing to do live. Also minimal keytar and Sung almost decapitated himself but you know... it happens. They DID do Tactile Sensation though which is a fucking jam. And Atomic Karate, ofc. And Meouch broke his fucking bass string which is like? Fucking hardcore? He came down like a foot away from us at one point. It was dope. They’re amazing live and have no right to be for dudes in ridiculous robot costumes playing synth in the year 2018 and rolling around stage on a hoverboard. Sadly I brought minimal memory cardage this year and didn’t get a lot of good video of them.

Afterwards, despite *someone* almost passing out, we hung out in the merch lines and did NOT accidentally cut ahead this time. I got a free signed poster because it was my birthday vacation ayyyyy and bought a couple EPs and the Together Through Time album. Then hopped over the PB’s line and got two hugs from Dylan who hung out and talked to/hugged/got selfies with every single person who got into line there and just? Good dude. Pure dude. Awful stache but... thumbs up human being. I got their Naked album and we headed out back to the apartment and some delivered Dominos (which was the only good Dominos I’ve ever had in my life.)

Day three I accidentally slept until like 4pm. Literally what else did we do that day? I cannot remember for the life of me. We might have went to Dunkin at like 9pm and she showed me a weird omnipotent plastic ear hanging on an electric wire? Was that this day? I have no fucking idea. Her Netflix and supply of Puffs tissues were my best friends this trip okay.

Day four she went to class and I relaxed and intended to walk to the mall. Unfortunately, my sick bleh hit and I didn’t feel up to going until about ten minutes before she got back. So we ended up heading over there together. I made her try Baja Blast, as is customary in my nation, and got her to try some green matte lipstick. Success. I was highkey hoping they would have a Build-A-Bear in the joint but they didn’t. They did have a Newbury though, that had the six-inch Roadhog pop which I’ve had a hard time finding locally, so I said fuck it and bought it.

That night was MST3k live! The theater was old as dirt. The kind of old as dirt where the flooring is bowing in. They had real strict rules on cameras and shit, which I get for the sake of spoilers but c’mon.... c’mon. Their merch sucked unfortunately though, so I didn’t waste any money on anything (for some reason they had 2017 tour stuff? It’s... not 2017?). The show itself was good, though I was wondering before it started how sick they must get of doing the same movie in different towns almost every other night. Pretty quickly realized oh, yeah, a lot of this show was likely pre-riffed. They did pull a kid from the stage at one point so he could guest riff off a script from Joel, which I’m thinking was a clever little insert fraction of the riff they did live between segments. I could be wrong, but on that front, it felt a little cheap. But it was still fun to see the boys and the bots live and have jokes cracked about not being able to afford the villains for the tour. And The Brain itself was........ I don’t know what I was expecting but..... it sure was.... something. The novelty was worth it and I will still gladly marry Crow T. Robot.

We went across the street to a little pub stop that was I think called Rock Bottom after that and got some much needed late night food. For some reason my brain was like “man, I could go for chicken fried steak right now” and don’t you know IT WAS ON THE FUCKIN MENU? WITH GARLIC CHEDDER MASHED POTATOES? Boston, much like with wings, does not know what country gravy is, but it was still everything I fucking wanted and did not expect to find, so A+. Also I was wearing a dress with shorts underneath it and stuck to the goddamn stool. Such is life.

Day five was rainy and miserable. I tagged along to university with Rach and it sucked, honestly. Being on a campus makes me feel awkward and the whole still being sick thing didn’t help. I ended up taking a walk way around the block to a Starbucks and getting the worst fucking frap I’ve ever paid too much money for. Went back around. Sat in the library. Felt even shittier. Started googling food places. Yard House wasn’t far but I didn’t want to deal with crossing a lot of traffic, especially if the rain started back up (it did, with a vengeance). So I ended up back around the block at some Olive Garden-esque fake Italian place with not an Italian in sight called Bertucci’s for some bland chicken-less fettuchini alfredo (because, as I’d reasoned with myself, I had chicken three times the day before). It was dimly lit, I had a booth to myself, and the water had the sweet skullet and braided beard combo I had liveblogged. People kept complimenting my tattoo. It was nice and no one seemed overly bothered that I was clearly killing time until I spent probably way too long in the restroom after trying to look alive. I tipped the dude ten bucks and left in the pouring rain with my umbrella.

From her school we took the world’s longest Uber to Parts Fucking Unknown in awful traffic and rain to find a Double Tree where @freakishlytallaustralian‘s parents were staying for a hot minute during their brief little US tour on their way to Europe. I’ve never met Mandi in person, but I’ve now met her parents who say she’s gotten to know a good bloke. She looks exactly like her mom. They were sweet. Anxious but sweet. And I am a freak who doesn’t talk and was sick trying to seem presentable at the bare minimum capacity.

Back ~home~ we ordered some JP Licks ice cream (BROWNIE BROWNIE BATTER!!! BROWNIE. BROWNIE. BATTER.), I watched CR and some stupid videos on the internet with her. Got some sleep. Sort of. Barely.

Despite Matt Mercer nearly succeeding at lulling me to sleep and eating my dreams, it didn’t happen, and I could not get comfortable for the life of me. The “coughing every five seconds in bed” started this night and was not having mercy. So I opted out of another day of hanging around campus to try and get some more rest. It didn’t really work, but I did eventually get a solid three hours or so, so it was something.

As the day progressed it was onward to the Science Museum to meet Ron the T-Rex. There was a wedding happening. How appropriate, for Bravier funko pops to have come along on the day of a blessed union. Coincidence? I think not. A turtle kept falling off a branch when he was trying to nap. There was some space stuff. It wasn’t great. But I got a little stuffed dinosaur and that’s Important.

From there we hit up the same movie theater we went to the year before and saw Bad Times At The El Royale. Do recommend. Chris Hemsworth as a Charles Manson was not something I ever thought I’d see, and I still don’t understand it, but it rather predictably works for me, so we’ll leave it at that. Good movie, good performances, good pacing and editing that could have easily not been. See it, it’s fun. Not perfect, but fun.

It was COLD AS BALLS after the movie and neither of us brought jackets or sweaters, so the walk to the train station and back ~home~ was a chilly one. We stopped in, got some warmth, and headed down the road past her old place to a bar. If we didn’t appreciate TWRP and PB enough already, the band she had to pay cover for us to get in for just to pick up food were about 8 upper middle aged men playing every instrument in the book. Afropunk, they said. No, we said. Offkey, we said. This place was dark as shit and loud as shit but you know what? They KNEW WHAT REAL, HOT CHICKEN WINGS WERE and for that, I am appreciative dammit.

Went back, got some more Dominos, and was finally introduced to John Mulaney’s (or two of) comedy specials. He’s genius and I *understand* it now, tumblr. I get it. We ate way too much and did my laundry.

The week had come and gone way too soon and I felt robbed of my good time by how shitty I felt. Hopping on the train the next day (after a godawful uber ride) was just as depressing as the time before. And even though I didn’t feel as miserable as the trip there, and once again had a window seat to myself, I found myself curled up against my hoodie crying trying to fall asleep again knowing I was already headed back home.

Once the initial depression passed, the trip wasn’t bad. The iced latte was good. The Albany stop not as confusing the second time around. The WiFi kept me company. Eventually my aunt texted me asking if I wanted to hit up Stevie T’s on the way home because they were 24hr and neither of us had eaten all night. It was a plan. Get off, get food, come home, faceplant on my own big comfy bed, vow to deal with my dad’s drama in the morning and call it a night.

Then *that* happened. Yeah. Last year? Every stop, regardless of time of night, they made announcements. They came by, checked the marker above your seat, and if you were due off at the next stop told you it was coming up, would help with luggage if needed, and directed you to the correct door to exit the train. This year? Nothing. They decided to stop making announcements right before the Rochester stop, and no one came by in our car to tell us where to get off. Stopped, myself and the other person due off at that stop, a late-teens girl, went to the door at the front of our car where every other stop had gotten off before us. We assumed since no one said differently, and no attendants were around, that must be it. We were idiots. Because by the time we realized hey, they’re not going to open this door and we should go to the far other end of the train, it was already moving again en route to Buffalo.

We found ourselves in the dining booths by the cafe car while the staff made vague remarks and the conductor acted like it wasn’t his problem. My aunt on the phone talked to the Rochester station, we tried to claim I didn’t even have a reservation until about two other people looked up my ticket. They said it was up to the conductor to get us a cab home, he laughed at us, claimed to know nothing about any of that, and asked if were were going to buy the bus tickets the other girl was looking up. The bus for 3am, in downtown Buffalo, nowhere near the station. When we got off the staff at the Depew station was a lot more sympathetic, and said since nothing else was being offered he would put us on the next train back home, but since it was a Sunday morning there was no train to Rochester until roughly 7:45am. It was about 1:30 at this point. I felt awful for encouraging the other girl not to pay for two ubers and a bus ticket with the only alternative being offered to sit alone in an empty, unstaffed station in the middle of the night for hours. And between the situation, being tired and still sick, and dealing with my aunt calling hotels only to get put on hold and lose the room she was trying to reserve - I put my bags in a corner, found the restroom, and had a panic attack. I don’t know why, but those tend to be stupid like that. It’s not even like I was scared, or confused, or that worried myself. I started out very ‘whatever, I’ll just get a room or stay in the station, I’m pissed but whatever’. But something about the constant calls and texts and my battery nearing 0 had me stressed and I was crying like a bitch. I just wanted to fucking sleep, and I knew that wouldn’t happen in a train station with nothing but some benches, a restroom, and a vending machine.

Rach suggested an alternative I felt guilty about taking but ended up going for: Get to her parents house just outside Buffalo, get their spare key, and sleep on their couch while they’re out of town with their blessing. So I called an Uber, and the first one passed me by, with the gps fucking up and saying I should be picked up ON THE TRAIN TRACKS. The second guy was smart enough to come to the cab pickup out front and was really cool. He said he was just thankful I wasn’t a fucked up drunk college party kid and the first all night. He didn’t comment on how I probably definitely looked like I’d just been broken up with in the world’s worst romcom. It was over 20 bucks and I tipped him the max. Found my way inside, set up the couch, and continued my momentarily on hold panic until I eventually passed out. My Aunt came to pick me up in the morning, I got carsick, we had mediocre diner breakfast and what’s after that isn’t news worth talking about. Isn’t it bad enough the tail end of the trip took up like a third of this post?

All in all... it felt like a disaster. I’m not gonna lie. In weird ways the stars aligned that TWRP would end up on Conan the night of their show and have to reschedule to the day I came to town, but I paid for it with otherwise bad timing and my body deciding against me having a good time. Fun was had, don’t get me wrong. The good was good and any chance to get away from... this, is appreciated, but it just seemed like everything went awry. 

Mucho thanks to @conniecorleone again, for letting me crash on the futon and be my usual bland self, even blander while ill, and also buying me expensive cold syrup and a-many ubers.

We’ll see if Massachusetts and I ever cross paths again.

[subdivisi0ns]

tagged by the lovely @britneyshakespeare to answer these 10 questions & come up with 10 of my own. thank you !! 💗

psa i wrote way too much please don’t read this. just skip to the questions at the end if i tagged you

1. What are 3 songs that mean something to you, and what do they mean?

that’s hard because i don’t usually find personal meanings in songs. i’m a lot more interested in what the song means to the artist who wrote it. but let’s see if i can think of some

-um. after all by david bowie was always Highly Relatable. like. prattling on & on waxing philosophical only to suddenly realize everything i said is wrong and don’t hate me and also now i’m having an existential crisis and i shouldn’t have started talking in the first place? M e

-when i was first getting into rush i was a big fan of Self Isolating To Cope and also i had no friends and was proud of it (bc if i couldn’t find a way to take pride in my [perceivedly] unchangeable flaws my entire self image would come crashing to the ground and that just wasn’t a good time . anyway). so the lines “nothing can survive in a vacuum / no one can exist all alone” from turn the page pissed me off. but now! now i have loads of friends and i feel legitimately cared about and i feel like i can comfortably reciprocate that and now when i hear that song i think you know what neil? you’re goddamn right.

-uh i s’pose i relate to another brick in the wall pt 3 which is not a good thing but. i dunno i really love being angrily in denial of needing any help whatsoever along to this song. it’s my flaw-pride anthem (don’t worry i don’t take it literally. it’s just fun in the moment)

-shit i know this said three but the one person who i relate to EVERY FUCKING SONG he’s ever put out is bill wurtz. never have i felt so understood than when i listen to bill wurtz’s music. god it’s the most uncanny feeling, i really really understand it a lot

ok i have to stop thinking of more . turns out a lot have meaning to me ive spent like an hour on this question alone Moving On

2. What’s your ideal self like?

. this was The Worst question to ask me because i can and will ramble on for hours given the opportunity

well i’d be able to execute my ideas, for one. instead of just having a half-baked - quarter-baked - fleeting concept with no real idea of how to achieve it. more specifically i want to be able to write songs. more more specifically i want to be able to write the music aspect of songs. i can’t do it. i dont fuckin know why i just can’t. but if i could i think i just might be content with life.

but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still things to improve. i wish i was funnier. i like my weird brand of humor/abstractity online but that’s hard to replicate in real life. i wish i was better at thinking on the spot. i wish my memory didn’t only retain stuff when it feels like it. i wish i was better at putting my thoughts into words, more concisely and accurately and effectively.

um i wish i didnt have executive function issues. like i wanna just do stuff and not have it take all the energy out of me. wish i had the energy to do it to begin with. wish i could keep up with socializing and not ignore people for hours/days because i can’t get myself to maintain conversation.

ok clearly this is leading down an endless tunnel of what i’d change so . i’ll just say my ideal self is a successful musician with a good social life but also an element of mystery and intrigue. my ideal self is just david bowie

3. Who, of all your family members (immediate or extended), do you think has had the most influence on you, for better or for worse?

my mom for a lot (a looooooot) of reasons but if i go into it this is gonna push it over the line from a tag game into a therapy session (if i havent crossed that line already)

4. What’s your main outlet of expression?

writing. journalling. fuckin , social media. actually yeah that more than anything. my Self is on display here if you look at my tumblr(s) my twitter(s) and my instagram(s) you’ve got a pretty goddamn decent picture of who i am

5. What was the first album you ever bought for yourself?

uh i mean i listen to most stuff off of youtube if i don’t already have it so like,,? i dunno. does itunes count? the first vinyl i ever got was wish you were here (for forty fuckin bucks god) but i paid with my aunt’s money so does that even count. i don’t know.

6. Do you like to go shopping?

depends on a lot of things. lately i’ve been in the mood to just get out of the damn house whenever possible (love being a high school dropout !) so the answer is pretty much yes anytime. but it really depends.

7. Kind of cliche but, if you could have dinner with any person, living or dead, who would you pick?

i wanna be the fourth person at the dinner with rush table. just to observe. i’d be terrified to actually have a conversation with any of my idols. okay but if i had to get over that fear i guess i’d pick..... bowie? todd? i don’t know this is hard. alex lifeson circa 197something so he can take me back to his place afterwards you pickin up what im puttin down

8. What TV show do you watch when you’re feeling stressed or low and you need a quick feel-better fix?

i don’t watch tv like ever not even in this case but i guess full house

9. What was the last intriguing conversation you had about?

everything my girlfriend said to me today (edit: yesterday but i did this last night) was great everything my girlfriend’s ever said to me was great

oh that didn’t answer the question at all i just realized. uh they were telling me about the star wars prequels (which i have not seen) and earlier we were having a very analytical conversation about a particularly interesting rush photo

also me & @swanky-trash were discussing our plans to take down trump and all the rest of those bastards while wearing jareth from labyrinth costumes and eating mushrooms. because it’s our destiny as clones separated at birth. yknow just life stuff

10. What’s something about yourself that you don’t think comes across as painfully obvious online, but is, in fact, in person?

shit are we at the end already? damn. i was enjoying this (can you tell).

okay here’s another one i could go on for 12 years about. but uh. i probably come across as way more perky irl? like my voice is all high pitched and i talk really fast and smile and laugh at everything and i have a whatever the opposite of monotone is voice. i don’t like that. i try to combat it online with the all-lowercase typing and shortening of words and omission of punctuation and that sort of thing. i think it’s worked. also i may be terrible at typing but i am WAY worse at speaking. i’m scatterbrained as hell and if i seem at all interesting or witty online that all goes to shit irl. also i can’t fucking talk to people who i only know in person? it just doesn’t work. thank god i have you guys

haaaa okay sorry for the rambling here are the questions

1. what’s the best day/one of the best days you’ve ever had?

2. how important is your social media presence to you?

3. what achievement are you proudest of?

4. describe your sense of humor.

5. is there anything you’re good at or like to do that people who don’t know you well probably wouldn’t expect?

6. what’s your most interesting family story?

7. favorite color palette?

8. what’s something that would be very “out of character” for you to do?

9. yknow that thing on twitter that’s like “pick 1 & rt for good luck” and the options are good grades, meet your idol, money, or crush texts you? which one would/did you pick and why?

10. what’s a song you either wish you’d written or feel like you could’ve written?

i tag @thetemplesofrush @thumbnailoak3 @swanky-trash @lavender-layne @realalexlifeson @davies-jones @goallines-and-musicrhymes @fruitthemed @graveyarding @cosmikdebris99 and anyone else who wants to do it and dont feel pressured to do it etc etc god i hope none of you actually read this whole thing i am so sorry

[autisticblueteam]

Different People (Carolina/Girlie)

Chapter 4 / 4: Unexpected

[AO3] [Ko-Fi in Bio]

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Drowning, Paralysis [other tags on AO3]

Girlie survived Longshore.

The sole survivor of her team, she found herself thrown out into the world with nowhere to go and nothing to cling to except the burning resentment she held towards the Freelancers. After years of aimlessness, when presented with an opportunity for revenge she snaps it up without hesitation.

But reality is never as simple as fantasy. People aren’t always what you imagined them to be.

Chapter Word Count: 5745

Notes: At the time of posting this hasn’t had my usual edits because it’s late and I want to get it up, but I’ll likely go through and edit it later. But here we go, final chapter!

The next few hours went by in a blur.

Girlie could do little but watch from the Warthog seat and then the Pelican as everything fell apart for the Chorusans. The General that owned the sword had been cornered and the reactor they were planning to set off with time to spare had been damaged. Destroying it manually was their only hope at taking out enough of Charon’s forces to even the field, but now the General would die.

Giving Felix the sword and the means to wipe out the entire planet with the turn of a key.

The idea she’d given them. The information she’d passed on.

Something twisted in her gut. A deep sense of guilt that she didn’t have the energy to process, not on top of everything that had happened with Carolina.

She could barely even look at her. Every time she did she felt sick in a way she couldn’t quite describe; it wasn’t that hatred she’d grown so used to but it wasn’t anything pleasant. Carolina had offered her mercy, she’d offered her a hand and she’d helped her come out of this with another chance. What was she supposed to do with that information?

In those few minutes on the ground in Armonia, before the city blew, she saw a side of Carolina she’d never acknowledged could even exist. Far past the one-dimensional ideas she’d built up of her and the other Freelancers, she saw her comforting Kimball and leading her to safety. She saw her scan the bay and check on everyone inside, even her. Saw her climb onto the roof of the Pelican armed with nothing but her armour, an AI and a bubble shield to deflect a nuclear blast.

The Pelican survived. Carolina stumbled back into the bay, collapsed against Washington. Everyone fell into an uneasy, anxious silence. Radio calls from other survivors came in and Kimball pulled herself together long enough to organise everyone, direct people to land in safe locations around the planet.

Their ship finally landed in a jungle canyon, connected to a crashed ship. People scrambled out as soon as the bay door touched the ground, greeted by the blue-toned soldiers she’d seen at the temple and a few others. The canyon was filled with Choursan soldiers in both types of armour, huddled in small groups.

This was what passed for a safe location. An open canyon in the middle of nowhere, isolated but unsecured.

Fuck. These people were on their last legs.

Girlie had to pull herself from her seat and drag herself to the edge of the bay. Sitting at the top of the ramp she watched everything go by. Teenagers in armour, some crying whilst others just stared at the ground. Medics checking over the injured. People coming and going from the wreckage.

No one came to her and she didn’t expect them to. Carolina had vanished with her team and Girlie sat alone, kitted out in Pirate armour. Those few who noticed her gave her dirty looks and it wasn’t like she could blame them.

This was partially her fault, after all. Not that they knew the extent of how, but…

Sighing, she lay back and covered her face with her arm.

Sure, she’d survived. But what was she supposed to do now?

Felt like she’d asked herself that question a lot in the past few years.

Time ticked by and Girlie was left there undisturbed. Silence usually welcomed spiralling thoughts and anger, but… not today. For once, she didn’t even think. Instead she just lay there, listening to the white noise of the jungle and the distance chatter of the Chorusans, until she heard shouting from somewhere else in the canyon. Shouting that echoed inside her helmet where it lay at her side.

Pulling her helmet back on, she heard General Kimball’s voice. A speech, broadcasting to all local channels and no doubt more. A speech about the Civil War here on Chorus and about war as a whole, what it does to you. A speech about fighting back and surviving. Rousing and emotional and coming from a place so genuine that she could feel it in the woman’s voice.

And as the cheers filled the canyon, as bullets sprayed into the air, Girlie found some of her words had struck a cord in her. The speech wasn’t for her, wasn’t for the ex-Insurrectionist who’d long since betrayed all of her principles or for the woman who’d made their imminent demise possible, but, despite that…

When you spend every day fighting a war, you learn to demonize your attackers. To you they're evil, they're sub-human. Because if they weren't, then what would that make you?

With a quiet laugh, Girlie let her head fall back. Yeah, what would that make you?

Carolina reappeared not long after Kimball’s speech had ended. Girlie saw her coming, heading from the direction Kimball’s speech had come from. No helmet, her face laid bare for all the world to see.

She looked… as tired as Girlie felt, she realised with another laugh. Bags under her eyes and scars on her face, signs of stress in the corners of her features and cropped scarlet hair tousled by her helmet. Girlie couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked in the mirror but she figured if she had the chance, she wouldn’t look much better.

The years hadn’t been kind to either of them.

“Girlie,” she said, standing at the foot of the ramp. “Can we talk?”

“…yeah, sure. Whatever.” Figuring it was only fair, she unsealed her own helmet and set it down beside her. “Not like I’m going anywhere. Literally, I can’t fucking get up.”

“We can have Grey examine you.” Carolina walked up the ramp and sat a few feet away, not too close. Girlie couldn’t tell if that was for her comfort or her own. “See if there’s anything she can do, about your legs.”

“Doubt you have facilities for surgery here,” Girlie said, nodding at the canyon. “That’s all that’ll fix it. Can tell you that right now.”

“I don’t know. Grey’s…” she trailed off, trying to place a word, but eventually shook her head, “…Grey. She ran maintenance on my arm in the middle of nowhere and it held up just fine.” When Girlie’s head snapped to her in confusion, Carolina peeled off her glove and waved a set of robotic fingers at her. “Prosthesis.”

“Oh, right. Guess I’m not the only cyborg around here.”

Carolina slipped her glove back on. “Not by a longshot.”

Awkward silence overcame them and they sat there, neither looking at the other, for at least a minute. Carolina idly scratched at a line in the metal floor. Girlie stared at her feet.

“…I meant what I said, in Armonia,” Carolina said, finally. “I’m sorry. We were told you were the enemy. We— I was doing what I believed had to be done. It doesn’t change what happened and it doesn’t excuse it, but it’s the truth.”

“Yeah, well— you’re fucking right, it doesn’t excuse shit,” Girlie said, still not lifting her gaze. “But— ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know. You don’t get— look, I’ve spent fucking years blaming you, Carolina. Years. Wanting to kill you Freelancers was the only motivation I had! That’s not— fucking— ugh.”

Dropping her head into her hands, she cursed under her breath. This was uncomfortable. Sitting next to the woman she’d hated for years—hell, that she might still hate, she didn’t fucking know—was fucking uncomfortable, talking to her was even worse. She’d never talked about this with anyone, how was she supposed to talk about it with her?

“You may not believe it, but I… get it,” Carolina said. Girlie dared a glance out of the corner of her eye—she looked uncomfortable, too, still scratching at that indent in the floor. “I spent years hunting down the person to blame for what happened at Freelancer. Finding him consumed my life. I was in a bad place and I made decisions I’m not proud of.”

Girlie averted her gaze again. Guess that did sound rather her past few years.

“Then I found him and— I couldn’t do it.” The scratching stopped. “The moment I had spent so long building up to and I couldn’t do it. I had to make the decision to move forward and to try and do better. Still, I’ve made choices I wouldn’t make again. Things have happened to make it more difficult. It’s… a process.”

When Girlie finally looked at her, she was biting her lip. Must have been doing so for a while; it had split. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I think you need to hear it,” Carolina said, meeting her eye for the briefest of moments. “There’s a way forward, Girlie. Take it from me, because I’ve been there. I am there.”

…Carolina was a different woman than she’d expected her to be.

She didn’t know what to say, not at first, but she knew she should say something. Silence hung over them for what felt like the millionth time, dense and unsettled, until Carolina sighed and stood up. Tucked her helmet under her arm and went to leave. Took three steps down the ramp and—

“I saw them, when you knocked me into that portal. My team,” Girlie said, before she could change her mind. Carolina stopped still. “I saw them die. All over again. Except— except the thing was, that wasn’t the thing that scared me. What fucking scared me was I couldn’t find anyone to blame. It was just me, and my dead friends. No one to aim my anger at. That was the worst part.”

“Because there had to be a clear cause for all of this. If there wasn’t, what did that mean for you?”

Girlie didn’t answer, but she figured that itself was answer enough. Guess Carolina did understand.

“…pushing you into the portal was the quickest way to finish the fight. I wasn’t sure if it would still… run the test,” Carolina said. Turning back to her, she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Girlie shook her head. “Nah, look, if I hadn’t gone into that thing? No way in hell I’d be here right now. You mentioning Charon planted the seed of doubt but it fucking bloomed in that place. I probably would’ve kept fighting you until you had to kill me without that.” With a sigh of her own, she rubbed her face. “Fell for the same bullshit twice. Charon’s good, I’ll give them that. I don’t— this is— a lot, you know? Like my whole world’s been torn out from under me. I don’t know how to feel about any of this. I don’t even know what I’m gonna do now.”

“Well, helping us would be a good start.” Pausing, she chewed her lip for a moment and then smiled faintly. “After that, I happen to know a group that have a habit of taking in people with nowhere else to go.”

“Huh.” Didn’t know how she felt about that just now, but… “Uh, one thing at a time. I did kinda give the assholes the to genocide, literally, so yeah, sure, helping. Uh— one problem, though.”

Carolina titled her head.

“I can’t fucking walk.”

“Oh, right. That’s a problem.”

“No shit,” Girlie said with a snort of laughter. “Like I said, genius or not there’s no way I’m having surgery done in a canyon in bumfuck nowhere. And you really dealt the final blow with that kick of yours.”

Carolina was quiet for a moment, though she still moved as if she were mid-conversation. Must have been talking to Epsilon internally again. Girlie flicked her eyes around the canyon, passing the time.

“Think you could do your thing from the seat of a Warthog?” she said, maybe a minute later. “With the right weapon?”

“Yeah, sure, guess so,” Girlie said with a shrug. Then, raising a brow, “What exactly are you guys planning, anyway?”

Carolina’s lips twitched into a slight smirk. “Well…”

The plan, as it turned out, was ever so slightly crazy—but apparently that’s just how these guys worked, so who was she to question it? Wasn’t like she had any better ideas and after what she’d done, the least she could do was go along with their batshit plan and help to make sure it worked.

The Freelancers were already at the Purge Temple by the time they arrived at the Comm. Temple for their final assault. Girlie provided them as much extra intel as she can before they left, even if she still felt awkward as hell talking to their of them. They’d been shocked by the information that the Counselor was up on the Tartarus—so yeah, her hunch was right—but there was no time to dwell on it let alone confront him. They had to be satisfied with the fact their plan would kill him, quite spectacularly in fact. Ship crashes were a hell of a way to go.

(God, what the fuck was this plan.)

Girlie was driven to the temple by some of Carolina’s colourful companions—the red coloured ones, or well, warm coloured ones (seriously, one of them was orange? How did these colour schemes work?). The Orange one was actually a hell of a driver, she later found out, but the drive there was spent listening to the two Reds in the Warthog with her bickering. Kinda amusing, really, it was hard not to crack a bit of a smile and she had to cough to hide a laugh at one particular quip. It was a dynamic she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Hey, lady—” the orange one—Grif, she thought they called him— said as the fight finally kicked off, “—do me a favour and like, be careful firing that thing. We only got the one jeep.”

“Girlie,” Girlie corrected, casually.

She could practically hear the confused squint. “What?”

“My name’s Girlie, not lady.”

“Same difference, isn’t it?”

“…touché, I’ll almost give you that, but no.” Shaking her head, she securely balanced the alien gun on the edge of the Warthog. “And don’t worry about it, I’m not gonna shoot the damn jeep.” Pause. “How many times has—?”

“You don’t even wanna know.”

“—alright then. You’re— an interesting bunch.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Grif said, shrugging. That didn’t surprise her at all.

With the Pirates so severely undermanned after they turned Armonia into a nuke the fight was easy. Grif drove, his boyfriend and Girlie shot the Pirates’ vehicles and anyone who got too close, respectively, and the Chorusans with their alien weapons made mincemeat of the remaining attackers—or well, dust. Mostly dust.

Honestly? It was almost fun. Grif was a damn good driver and the alien gun felt powerful in her hands. She hadn’t seen action like this in years and hey, the fact she was wrecking a bunch of Charon’s men in the name of a planet that was one short step from Insurrectionist? That certainly sweetened the deal.

They were inside the tower within an hour, at the most. Not long after that, the Freelancers reappeared. Armour looking a little scuffed in places, but okay. Clearly, the plan had worked. All that was left to do was for them to go broadcast their message and expose Charon; they’d have to keep fighting the stragglers in the meantime, but that was easy enough.

Until the Mantis appeared. That complicated things, just a bit.

Girlie found herself sitting in a Warthog being used as a blockade at the temple entrance, helping Kimball and some of the other Chorusan soldiers hold the position whilst the colourful assholes did their thing and Carolina did hers.

…she watched Carolina tear that Mantis apart with her bare hands and hey, look, she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t attractive as hell. Carolina was a complicated mess of emotions in her head—the woman she hated for years but also the first person to ever just talk to her about what had happened—but she didn’t need to untangle it to know how hot that was.

But then more Mantises dropped, more people died, and a call came in that her team was cornered by a bunch of Charon goons with no guarantee that they could get to them in time.

So she watched Carolina tear onto the nearest Pelican, Washington not far behind. Watched her as they returned, looking frantic as she helped take the injured to where they needed to be. Watched her scramble to make sure that her team was all okay, whilst clearly knotted tight with distress herself. Watched her take care of her team, saw that other dimension of her that she’d never imagined could exist mere days ago.

Everything had changed and she still had no idea where she stood.

But dammit, she was going to figure it out this time.

She had to.

Over the following days Carolina was all but completely absent from anywhere that wasn’t either the makeshift training hall or the equally makeshift hospital. People were slowly starting to move back towards some of Chorus’ other old population centres but the process was slow and it wasn’t worth moving the patients before a real hospital was set up. Various members of Carolina’s team were still under observation, most notably the other aqua one—Tucker?—who’d been running the suit that saved them.

(Girlie wondered how seeing that suit, that familiar domed helmet and white armour, had felt for Carolina. If it had given her pause, she couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Carolina.)

If she was honest, Girlie had been keeping her distance anyway. Her feelings about Carolina were still a tangled mess; some days she felt that residual rage, whilst others she wanted to talk to her and hear what she had to say. Things were too messy right now for both of them to expend anymore energy discussing their past; the present was much more important.

So Girlie spent most of her time doing odd jobs around the canyon, like helping out with moving things onto transport Warthogs. They’d managed to dig a wheelchair for her from somewhere, giving her the freedom of movement she needed. Days flew by with little issue, with the most dramatic thing that happened being the time a Warthog started driving before they were done and everything fell out. Girlie may not have known anyone there on Chorus, and people were hesitant to talk to one of the ex-Pirates, but helping out had started to build a few bridges.

Things were okay. Her life had more purpose in those few days than it had felt like it had had in years. Felt almost like getting back to her roots, helping out this backwater colony where there were already whispers of not wanting to re-join the UEG. How many years had it been now since they packed up the cell and joined the UNSC? How long had she been doing their dirty work for them, because they weren’t given a choice in the matter? How long had it been since she really worked to help the people the UNSC was fucking over?

Too long, she decided, as she helped some kid that couldn’t be older than sixteen move another crate. Too fucking long.

It had been almost a week when she saw Carolina sitting alone in the rudimentary mess hall, alone. The few times she’d seen her in the week prior she’d been almost constantly flanked by Washington, almost fused at the hip, but he was nowhere to be seen. Carolina looked half-dead and was mindlessly scrolling on her data-pad, cheek leant heavily into the palm of her other hand.

Girlie hesitated in the doorway, watching her for longer than she perhaps should have. She was worrying that bottom lip of hers again, though not hard enough to split it. Bright green eyes flicked up and down her screen without really looking. The bags under her eyes had only gotten darker.

Fuck it.

Wheeling over to the old coffee machine she made two cups, one made just how she liked it—a normal amount of milk and a shit ton of sugar—the other black, then stuffed a bunch of sugar packets and creamers into an empty cup. Making a girl shitty coffee she couldn’t drink wouldn’t be a good first impression, better to let her modify it herself.

Then, with a deep breath, she approached the table.

“Hey, uh— you look like you might need this,” she said, holding up the black coffee. Carolina raised her head, looking momentarily surprised, but then exhaled with a faint laugh.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted or grateful,” she said, as she took the cup. Girlie manoeuvred so she could pull herself up close to the table and set down the cup of extras. Carolina considered them for a moment, before shaking her head and taking a gulp of the unmodified coffee.

“You’ve had a tough— well I was gonna say week, but few years might be more accurate. Point is, you’re allowed to look as shitty as you feel,” Girlie said with a shrug, sipping her own. After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “…they’ll be okay. It’s not my place to say a thing, course, but— they’ll be okay. They seem like stubborn enough assholes.”

Carolina didn’t respond at first, but she did offer her a tired smile before taking another long swig. Her eyes slid shut as she let the warmth fill her and she breathed out a sigh. “I never told you what I saw in the portal, did I?”

A little taken aback, Girlie set down her cup.

“Nah, I don’t… think we were on those kind of terms then. I mean, I told you because I was making a point, y’know?” She shrugged. “Didn’t think we were on those terms now. Y’know, seeing as I spent days trying to kill you.”

“I saw almost the same thing you saw. I had to watch my families, die.”

“…oh, shit.”

“That and— what happened to Epsilon,” she bit her lip a little harder, threatened to burst it, “has me a little more concerned than maybe I should be about a few broken bones and a couple bullet wounds.”

“That Santa guy—” she couldn’t believe she was actually calling that thing Santa, “—sure likes that trope, huh? What an asshole.” Carolina cracked a smile. Girlie called that a win. “Look I don’t know the whole story here but if those guys have survived everything I’ve heard about lately, they’ll come out of this no worse for wear.” Then, added quickly, “Physically.”

They’d lost one of their own. Girlie knew first-hand how badly that could hit a team.

“Physically,” Carolina said sombrely. They both sat nursing their coffee for a few minutes of silence that wasn’t quite comfortable but wasn’t quite awkward, before she spoke again. “You know, you’re not so bad, when you’re not trying to kill me.”

Girlie glanced up at her and found her smiling again, still tired but seemingly genuine.

“…yeah. Yeah you’re not so bad either. When you’re not trying to kill me.”

Carolina chuckled and Girlie cracked a smile of her own, shaking her head as she reached for another packet of sugar. That started an entire discussion about their respective abominations of the coffee kind, Carolina finding her heavily sweetened milky mixture unbearable whilst Girlie could never stomach coffee as raw as Carolina’s. It was kinda silly, really, but it kept their minds from wandering towards anything more depressing.

That conversation was the start of a very tentative, but growing, friendship. Things were still complicated; Girlie had years of anger to unpack but she was more than willing to work at it, to get away from the ghosts that had haunted her for years. Carolina wasn’t the woman she’d built her up to be, she could never have been that; that woman was one-dimensional, cruel and without remorse, none of which could ever describe the woman she’d come to know.

She was complex and complicated, filled with so much remorse that it seemed to eat away at her constantly, but more than that she was absolutely and unshakably devoted to the people she cared about. She always seemed like she had something to prove, like she couldn’t stop. Her laughter was rare but bright and shameless when it came. Her jokes were dry and almost always perfectly timed—almost. On a good day there was an energy that radiated from her that felt absolutely unique to her.

Girlie saw more and more of those things as time went by, as her team left hospital and Chorus was gifted aid, as everything started to move forward. They didn’t talk much during the days, where Carolina would be working with Washington and Kimball whilst Girlie worked odd jobs around the foundations of New Armonia—a repurposed population centre, being slowly expanded. But after a long day, Girlie found it refreshing to slump against a wall somewhere with Carolina and just… talk.

About the Reds, who she’d slowly started to fall into place with. About the Reds and Blues in general, their ridiculous antics. About their individual work around New Armonia. And, when their heads were clearer and most of the tension had faded, the past.

“It’s… difficult, talking to Wash about what happened,” Carolina said, one day, after a couple of drinks had left them both pliable for heavy talk. After she’d told Girlie about her side of the final years of the Project. “I’m trying—we’re trying—but… I suppose a level of detachment helps. No, detachment probably isn’t the right word…”

Girlie chuckled, elbowed her. “Yeah I wouldn’t call talking to one of the people you nearly killed ‘detachment’. But I get what you’re saying.”

“Funny how some years can be some of the best but also the worst of your life.” Carolina sighed, dropped her head back against the wall. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she spoke with amusement in her voice, “Have I told you about the time Maine put York’s helmet on top of one of the ceiling beams?”

“Nope.”

“Maine was the tallest, by a huge margin. No one else could reach those beams without climbing something. York tried all sorts of things to get up there but eventually he had to promise Maine his desserts for a week to get them to retrieve it.”

“Wow. What did he do to earn that contempt?”

“You know, I can’t remember. Probably some ill-advised joke.”

“Sounds like the kind of thing the Chain twins would’ve done for fun,” Girlie said, her head dropping against Carolina’s shoulder without thinking. “Always up to shit, those two. You know they used to call you guys by the wrong designations and even colours on purpose all the time? Made it real hard to keep track of who they were actually talking about.”

Carolina laughed, the kind of full on laughter Girlie had only ever been able to pry out of her when a good day and some alcohol had helped her relax, the kind that had started hitting Girlie right in the chest.

She didn’t know when the vague attraction she had towards Carolina as a fighter—as started by her ripping apart a Mantis—had become more than that and she almost didn’t want to know. The shift from hatred, to confliction, to friendship to— to— whatever this was, was confusing and had happened over the space of such a short time that she swore it had given her whiplash.

At first she’d put it down to her lack of human contact over the past few years but when her spending time with the Reds had gotten more frequent and those feelings towards Carolina had continued to grow, didn’t know what to think.

And now her head was on Carolina’s shoulder and she was laughing at a dumb story she’d told and look, there was only so much a girl could handle.

Carolina had given her a second chance—given her a new damn life by being willing to offer her that.

Despite their history, they were different people than they were all those years ago. So much had happened and Girlie was surprised by how much of their experiences were mirrored, how easy that made it to talk about even with one of the people who had caused her own pain.

So maybe being into her wasn’t much weirder, or maybe it was that much weirder, who the fuck knows. Either way the attachment was there and Girlie didn’t think she wanted to shake it. Though she didn’t know if she wanted to act on it, either.

For now she was happy enough to just sit there, head on Carolina’s shoulder and enjoying her company. If Carolina’s head dropped against hers, then that was only a bonus.

Time flew by and New Armonia started to take shape. Elections were organised. People were slowly settling into non-military jobs despite remaining technically enlisted until things had settled.

Girlie found her place helping to create strongholds and maximise their supplies, making sure they’d never be left struggling again, even should the negotiations with the UEG go badly. She was no politician, she never had been; the best way she could help these people was to share the skills she’d learned during her days in the Insurrection.

It was nice to feel like she might be making a difference.

By the end of the second month after the final fight, she’d officially been declared a member of Red Team. That was fun, they were fun. Sarge acted kind of like the grumpy old dad she’d never really had; Donut was an all around entertainer, whether he meant to be or not; Simmons was a gigantic nerd, but they’d found a little solidarity in their respective ‘cyborg’ statuses; and Grif was a great guy to relax with, they’d gotten on well since that first day in the jeep. Having a team again took some getting used to and she had to remind herself often that she wasn’t replacing her family, but it was refreshing. Feeling as if she had a home.

As she settled, she watched Carolina do the same. Blue Team had absorbed her into their number and Carolina fit in fine, once she started to relax. Everything after the Staff of Charon had been a seemingly never-ending process of handling the aftermath, of handling their loss, but time and distance let them start to heal.

They still spent many of their evenings together, wandering around the city or sitting somewhere away from the bustle of the occupied sectors. After Girlie’s surgery Carolina even helped her with her physio and then sparring, getting her back to full strength. Girlie did her best to return the favour by listening and helping her figure out how to talk to Washington.

Talking and sparring had helped her work out her issues, more than anything. Where her old resentments lingered, she knew to ignore them. They were in-built, a coping mechanism from a time long passed, but that didn’t mean she had to listen to them. Nah, she could tell them to fuck off.

Carolina was amused by her methods. Apparently she’d never thought of telling the intrusive voice in her head to fuck off quite so literally. Girlie told her she should try it some time.

If she were honest, Girlie had expected if her feelings towards Carolina to fade over time. Expected that the crush was just that, a crush brought on by unexpected kindness from an attractive woman after years of being alone. Instead, the more she got to know Carolina the more she liked her.

Still, she didn’t dare make a move.

Nah. Apparently, that was down to Carolina.

They were changing after a long sparring session, unbothered by undressing around each other as they took off their sweaty work-out clothes. They’d been bantering back and forth all afternoon and it hadn’t stopped once they left the training hall.

“You know,” Girlie said, putting her tank away and grabbing a new shirt, “I still have a massive scar from where you stabbed me with that— knife-rifle thing.”

Carolina raised a brow, glancing back at her. Girlie turned her torso so she could see the large scar that ran up the centre of her chest. It was just a joking comment, just teasing, but Carolina gained this glint in her eye and retorted with a very serious sounding, “What do you want me to do about it? Kiss it better?”

Which was the moment Girlie knew she was absolutely and truly fucked.

“I can do that, if you’d like,” she continued, setting down what she was holding and walking in her direction.

“Uh—” Girlie’s brain stalled, words caught in the back of her throat. Was this happening? No way this was happening. “…do you want to?”

Carolina’s answer was to approach her and crouch down just enough so that she could easily press light kisses up the length of the scar. A shiver ran down Girlie’s spine as she tried to process what was happening, something she still hadn’t achieved by the time Carolina stood up and kissed her on the lips.

Okay. Yeah. That was happening.

Stunned as she was it took her an age to return it, but she did. Her hands settled on Carolina’s arms, firm muscle and cold metal. Her eyes slid shut and she took in the feeling of her lips against hers, the slight bump of the scar tissue in the middle of her lower lip.

When Carolina pulled away, Girlie’s eyes remained closed for a good ten seconds longer. Processing.

“Holy shit, okay. Yeah, alright, that’s—”

“Satisfactory?” Carolina said, an amused note to her voice. When Girlie finally opened her eyes she found her smirking.

“…yeah. Satisfactory’s a word,” Girlie said, idly flicking her tongue over her lips. “I’m gonna kiss you again now.”

And she did, catching a laughing Carolina’s lips with hers, pulling her close.

If anyone had told her, years ago, that this was where her future was headed, she wouldn’t have believed them.

But hey, things never did turn out as she expected, did they?

[tuckerfuckingdidit]

too lazy to redo my tags, no reblogs!!

the Circumstances that linked up like voltron (bow chicka bow wow) and killed my drive to complete my nano:

work--which is normal, and i could have dealt with that

realizing my word count was underestimated by a good 400%

which put me at endeavoring to write a ~100k rarepair fic for a fandom where a portion isn’t even indifferent, but outright hostile toward the ship at the moment (which will be really funny if it turns out to be set-up for nothing *knocks on wood*)

(but i mean if it’s not nothing, wouldn’t be the first time joe made me look stupid! oh my god that was the worst live viewing of my life, i will never be over it)

and the people who are enthusiastic will drop off of a) reading b) commenting c) both once it’s underway, simply because that’s just how it goes on ao3

the fucking guy getting paid to write this show couldn’t even be bothered to do a cut to the characters five episodes in a row. they just. disappear. i am largely self-motivated during the off-season, but during? i actually?? expect??? to see??? the characterS??????

here’s the thing: temple did not have to be the villain of the season. temple could have been dealt with in 3 to 5 episodes as a bridge to something Else. (this could still happen. i’m talking about the past 5 weeks only.) when you consider that, it’s kind of outrageous that we are on the 15th episode, and we’ve seen carolina and wash in present day three times. (i am only not mentioning grif here because geoff’s sabbatical was a factor in him leaving.)

so when we got locus before present day!carolina got another line, as much as i have always been fascinated by locus, i was like, “fuck it, i’m done.”

i draw my inspiration directly from the show as it’s airing, and considering this is literally a w*shlina story, like. sdgijoijiuhsd. 

a long while back, when fandom was theorizing about where we would go next with the reds and blues, salt said she would be down for the entire team stuck in the medbay all season if it meant we got to see them.

for me, this has been the opposite of that. the reds and blues may have been located in 15x05, but watching the season live feels like playing the galaxy’s shittiest game of hide and seek.

ever.

of all time.

edit: and because i refuse to make another negative post, why the fuck are these episodes still so short?? this show has been trying to do too much for far too long for the episodes to average 10 minutes. it’s the reason that the pacing in project freelancer is garbage, why 11, for all that i love it, drags fucking ass--like, c’mon.