#is it a road trip if it lasts less than hour? i say yes

[stealthnoodle]

In this chapter, we reach the portion of my outline that begins with "PALACE ADVENTURE GO GO GO," and Ren and Akechi make a new deal.

[roosterforme]

Does darlin ever catch Jake off guard? And make him come prematurely? If she does, why does she like it so much?

As soon as I read this, I imagined them taking a road trip in his truck. Maybe he has to go up to Lemoore for work, and since she's on a school break, she rides up with him... (smut ahead)

Jake let you pick out the snacks and the playlist while he did all the driving. You spent hours serenading him quite badly and eating M&Ms and chips while he sang quite nicely and ate an apple.

When the sun started to set, he removed his Ray-Bans and asked you to put them away in the glovebox for him. As soon as you opened the latch, you felt the truck swerve.

"What happened?" you asked as Jake reached out and tried to close the glovebox with a lot of frustration on his face.

"You can just leave the sunglasses on the dash," he grunted, still trying to close the compartment while he drove up the highway. But you swatted his hand away as soon as you saw a flat box from a jewelry store in Coronado in there.

"What's this?" you asked, tapping it with your index finger as his face turned red. "Is it for me?" When he kept his eyes focused straight ahead and didn't answer, you asked, "Or is it for your other girlfriend?"

"What?!" he asked in surprise, glancing at you as he swerved a bit again. "Jesus, Darlin'. Yes. Of course it's for you. Okay? Are you happy? It's a necklace for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, and I forgot I moved it there."

Your heart felt like it was going to burst into a million pieces. "You got me a necklace?" you whispered, already opening the box. "Oh my god."

There was a dainty gold chain and a tiny charm that said Darlin' hanging from it, and you wanted to fling yourself at your boyfriend.

"Well?" he asked, voice still a little gruff at you having accidentally ruined the surprise. "You like it?"

"I'm obsessed," you told him, already putting it around your neck. It fell right to the top of the swell of your breasts, and you desperately wanted to thank him, but he was still driving up the highway.

"Good," he murmured, and then you reached across the bench seat for the zipper of his jeans. "What are you doing?"

You bit you lips and eased the zipper down so you were able to feel him through his boxer briefs. "Saying thank you."

"While I'm driving?" he asked, making absolutely no move to stop you.

"Mmhmm."

Once you had your bare hand wrapped around his cock, he groaned your name. He was hard and clearly excited as you gave him a handjob while he drove. Occasionally he muttered "fuck" or "that's good", but he mostly let you do whatever you wanted to him. You cupped his balls with your right hand and jerked your hand up and down his cock with your left, and all the while, your pretty necklace caught the last rays of the setting sun.

"Shit," he groaned. "Darlin', slow down. I'm about to cum."

"Already? That was fast," you replied with a smirk.

"You caught me off guard, Smartass," he growled, looking around frantically. "I need to pull over and fuck you before I make a mess everywhere."

"You won't make a mess."

You leaned down at the last minute, wrapped your lips around his cock, and let him fill your mouth with cum while he groaned and moaned. "God, that feels incredible."

Then you licked him clean, kissed his cock before tucking it back inside his underwear, and muttered, "See? No mess."

Once again, he didn't give you a verbal response as he shook his head while he drove, but he did reach for your hand to hold it.

"I really do like my necklace," you promised with a smile. "And I liked making you cum in less than three minutes."

"Smartass."

[canirove]

The invinsible princess | Chapter 7

“Like the title of that Beyoncé song said…”

Author's note: This is one of my favourite chapters, so I hope you like it as much as I do. And to the anon who sent me the loveliest message ever the other day... I'm still thinking about it, thank you very much 😭💜

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Masterlist

“I can't fucking feel my ass” I say while getting out of the camper van Pedri and I have rented for our road trip. 

“Sofía!” he gasps. “Those aren't words for a lady like yourself!”

“Oh, I beg for your forgiveness, my lord. Please allow me to rephrase it… Blimey!” I gasp, covering my mouth like women did in old movies. “I can't feel my lower back after being sat for the past two hours!”

“Much better. Thank you, my lady” Pedri says, doing a little curtsey. 

“My lord” I reply, doing the same before we both start laughing. Whoever sees us behaving like this at a petrol station, must think we are crazy. “Anyway, can you do me a favour before you start with that?” I ask him, nodding towards the van.

“Of course. What does the lady need?”

“I need to use the bathroom, but I don't want to go alone.”

“What?” Pedri laughs. 

“Yeah, I just… What if I'm doing my business and someone comes in and catches me there? I don't want to go online and see that a photo of myself sitting on the toilet has gone viral.”

After my first and so far only viral photo, the one with Charles Leclerc a few years ago, I've become a bit less invisible than what I was used to. Most people still pay more attention to my sister Leonor, but Carlos has had to stop paparazzis from taking photos of me and my aunt leaving work together more than once. 

“Ok, fine” Pedri sighs. “It is a bit weird to not have Carlos around, isn't it? He usually is the one who does these things.”

“It is, yes. But it was what we wanted, so” I shrug.

“I'm sure he still is keeping an eye on us somehow” Pedri says as we walk towards the back of the petrol station, where the bathroom is. “I can see him glued to his phone, checking the van’s GPS to make sure we are following the route we shared with him” he laughs. “He may have even set some microphones and cameras inside to make sure we are alive.”

“For his own sake, I hope he hasn't.”

“Because of what he may have heard last night, for example?” he smirks. 

“If you mean your snoring, then yes. But I was talking about you singing while driving.”

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Let's just say that becoming a singer isn't a career path you should follow once you retire from football.”

“So rude, my lady. So rude… And we've made it.”

“Aren't you going inside?”

“What?” Pedri chuckles.

“Yeah… To make sure there is no one hiding or something.”

“Sofía, this petrol station isn't like the ones you see in American movies. Here they clean their bathrooms and there isn't a guy hiding behind a door ready to kidnap you and take you to his cabin in the woods.”

“Better safe than sorry” I shrug.

“Urgh, fine” he replies, rolling his eyes and walking into the bathroom. “It's empty, you can come in.”

“Did you check it properly?”

“Yes, I did. There is no one inside, and it is quite clean. Maybe not as much as those golden toilets you have at the palace where you can see your own reflection, but they are ok.”

“Idiot” I say, giving him a little push and making him laugh. “But thank you, Pedri.”

“Anything for you, my lady” he smiles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I think we'll have enough with these snacks until we… Sofía? What are you doing?”

“Have you ever used one of these?” I say, looking at the machines outside the petrol station’s shop.

“Yeah. Who hasn't?” Pedri chuckles. “Oh. Sorry. You…”

“As a kid we often saw them when we were on holidays, but my mum never allowed Leonor and I to buy anything from them. She said they were just a stupid way to waste your money on useless stuff.”

“I mean, she's not wrong. But we used to have one at the bar in Tenerife, and just seeing the kids’ faces when the ball comes out of the machine and they open it to see which surprise they've gotten makes it worth it.”

“I guess...”

“Here, take this.”

“Why are you giving me these coins?”

“They are the change I got from buying our snacks” he says, nodding towards the bag in his hand. “You can use them on the machines.”

“What?”

“You just told me that you've always wanted to give them a go, haven't you? Then do it, Sofía. You are an adult now, your mum won't scold you for doing it” he chuckles.

“I… I… Thank you, Pedri” I say before wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. 

“That's ok” he smiles. “C'mon, let's see what they have.”

The first machine is a Pokémon one, and each ball has a different figurine inside it. 

“What is that?” 

“Pedri, this is Charizard!”

“I'm only familiar with Pikachu” he shrugs.

“You… seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“And then I'm the weird one.”

“You aren't weird, Sofía” he says, kissing my cheek before I put another coin on the next machine. This one has just little teddy bears made of rubber. Very ugly teddy bears. “That smile they painted on him is kind of creepy, isn't it?” Pedri says when I open the ball I got.

“A bit, yes” I laugh, moving to the next machine. This one has little racing cars, and he is definitely way more excited about it than me. “This one is for you” I say, giving him one of the coins.

“For me?”

“For you” I smile. “I know you are dying to do it and see which car you will get.”

“I actually am, yes” he smiles back.

“But wait, let me get my phone and film you. I have the feeling this is going to be the cutest thing ever.”

“Everything I do is cute, my lady” he winks before crouching down in front of the machine, looking like a kid on Christmas morning when he opens the ball and sees the car inside it. “Now it is my turn to film you” he says once he has calmed down. 

“Me?”

“The last one has jewelry or something like that. And you like your jewels, my lady” he smirks.

“I do, yes” I reply, my hand instinctively moving to my necklace. To the banana charm, the S one, and the new addition: a P one he got me for my birthday last year.

“And? What is it?” Pedri asks me when I open the ball. 

“I think… oh.”

“That actually is quite nice, isn't it? Let me help you put it on.”

“What?” I chuckle.

“I have to practice for when it's time for the real one” he smirks, taking the ring from my hand and putting the phone on his pocket. Because the surprise on that last ball had been a ring, one that didn't look that bad for just 1€. “There you go. Perfect.”

“Though not as perfect as you” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck once again. “Thank you very much for this, Pedri.”

“For putting a ring on your finger?”

“For everything. From checking the bathroom to see if there was a murderer lurking in the shadows, to buying me my favourite chocolate bar without me asking for it, and for letting me experience this and go home with a very cool ring. The real one is gonna have to be a really cool ring to be better than this one” I say with a teasing smile.

“It isn't gonna be an easy task, no. But I'll do my best. Because for you, my lady… For you I would do anything.”

“Aww, Pedri…” I say, trying to not start crying in the middle of a petrol station. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sofía” he says before kissing me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, what happened.”

“Uh?”

“Pedri, you've been dating my sister for years and you know I love you like a brother” Leonor says. “But this is the first time we are having lunch together just the two of us without Sofía.”

“Then it was time we did it, don't you think?” he shrugs, focusing on his food.

“Pedri…” Leonor sighs. “What happened? Is everything ok between you two?”

“Yeah.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing.”

“Pedro!” Leonor says, raising her voice.

“God, you just sounded like your mum when she gets mad with your dad” he chuckles.

“Oh, this is not me being mad. Me being mad is something you don't want to see, so you better tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I���” he gulps. “I want to propose to Sofía.”

“No!” Leonor gasps, making Pedri thank everything for being alone in a private area of the restaurant. Because if they had been surrounded by people, all eyes would be in them after how loud that gasp had been. “You are going to do it?”

“Yeah” he says, nervously playing with his fork.

“How? When? Where?”

“I don't know yet. I actually decided it this morning.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Pedri says again. “I had just left my therapist's office, and it hit me: I was ready. I am ready to ask Sofía to marry me and to deal with everything that will come once it is made oficial.”

“Wow” Leonor says. “But do you think she is ready for it too? To stop being the invisible princess like she always says? Because this engagement is gonna be talked about worldwide. The princess and the football player! The fanfic that becomes a reality!” she chuckles.

“Has she shown you the ring she got during our road trip this summer?”

“The plastic one she loves so much?”

“The very same. When I gave it to her I told her it was practice for when I put the real one on her finger” Pedri says. “And since then, we've been talking a lot more about getting married, about how it will be, what will change, discussed it with our therapist… And I think she also is ready, that we both are on the same page.”

“Then it is happening. It's happening!” 

“Leonor, what are you…”

“What happened?” the queen says over the phone.

“Hello to you too, mum” Leonor replies, rolling her eyes.

“Hi, sorry. But what happened? Why are you calling me at lunch time?”

“Is dad with you?”

“Hello!” the king says. “Where are you, Leonor?”

“I'm in Barcelona, visiting Sofía.”

“Oh, is she there? Are you girls out together?” the king asks her.

“I'm out with someone, but not her. Pedri, say hello” she says, turning her phone so it faces him.

“I… Umm… Hello” he says with an awkward smile, hoping her parents can't see that he is blushing. Even though he has known them for years and shared many things with them, sometimes he still goes all shy when he remembers he is talking to the King and Queen of Spain.

“Oh, Pedri!” the queen says. “How are you? Everything ok?”

“Yes, perfect. Thank you for asking. And sorry for interrupting your lunch.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. What happened?”

“Uh?”

“Something must have happened for Leonor to call us and for you two to be having lunch together without Sofía” the queen says.

“Well… I… Umm” he mumbles.

“It's happening, mum” Leonor says, moving the phone so it is facing her again. “He's doing it!”

“He is doing what?” the king asks. 

“He is going to ask Sofía to marry him!”

“No!” the queen gasps as loudly as Leonor earlier. Maybe even louder. “You better not be messing with us.”

“I’m not, mum. I swear. Pedri, tell them” she says, turning her phone again. 

“I… Ummm… Yeah. It's true” he says. “I want to ask Sofía to marry me.”

“He's doing it! He is doing it!” the queen screams.

“I heard you, darling” the king chuckles. 

“Our baby is getting married!”

“First she has to say yes” he chuckles again. “And I have to give Pedri my blessing too.”

“Oh, please” she says, rolling her eyes. “You don't need to do that. It is just a formality, not something you actually have to do, and we live in the 21st century, not the middle ages. Besides, we all know you love him like the son you never had. You are as happy as I am about this. Maybe even more.”

“I am, yes” he smiles. “And even if you don't need it, you have my blessing, Pedri.”

“Thank you, sir” he replies.

“Now, details” the queen says. “Have you chosen a ring? Do you know where you are going to propose? And when? Because we have a trip to South America coming soon and…”

“Mum, relax” Leonor chuckles.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. I am just so happy for them!”

“We can tell, darling” the king says. “But tell us, Pedri. Have you thought of anything?”

“I have not, no” he says. “I was hoping that you and Leonor could help me, because I don't know where to start. I mean, I have some ideas about where I could do it, but the ring? She likes jewellery so much and each piece she owns is so different that I don't know what she could like. And maybe there is like some tradition to follow? A ring to pass from one generation to another? I don't know.”

“I think I have an idea” the king says.

“You?” the queen says, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, me. Has she ever told you about her favourite painting?”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't believe you managed to close an entire museum to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Perks of being your grandmother's favourite” Pedri winks. “And this is your museum too.”

“What?”

“Reina Sofía?”

“Pedri, this museum was named after my grandmother, not me. We may share the same name, but I've never been and never will be queen.”

“You are the queen of my heart, tho” he smirks.

“Oh… my God” I laugh, my voice echoing on the empty corridors. Or almost empty since I know Carlos is keeping an eye on us from somewhere.

“What? It is the truth” Pedri says before making me twirl and pulling me against his body. “Have I told you yet that you look beautiful tonight?”

“You have, yes” I say, wrapping my hands around his neck while he starts to slowly rock us from side to side. 

We are dancing to no music in the middle of a museum, surronded by art and history eveywhere, and it is… It is the most romantic thing ever.

“Well, you look so beautiful that I have to say it many times so it is accurate.”

“Like me telling you that I love you many times per day and still not being enough to show how much I love you?”

“Exactly” he smiles before making me twirl again. “Should we continue with our tour?”

“I like it here.”

“But I don't like that guy in that painting. It's like he is judging us.”

“If he can read minds, he probably is judging me.”

“You? Why? What is that pretty head of yours thinking about?”

“This pretty head…” I say, moving closer so only he can hear me. “Is thinking about all the things she wants to do to you, and all the things she wants you to do to her once we are alone.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Yep” I smile. “Though that king should not judge me too much since history books say he had like ten lovers and more than twenty bastards besides the five kids with his wife.”

“Really?”

“I mean, the legitimate kids definitely were five, there are records of it. The lovers and the bastards depend on the historian you ask. But everyone agrees on him not being the most faithful of husbands. He was married to one of the most extraordinary women in our history, and he treated her like shit despite being the one who was keeping the kingdom from falling apart while he was hunting, partying and getting drunk with his friends.”

“You aren't his biggest fan, are you?” Pedri chuckles. 

“I am not, no.”

“But you do like his wife.”

“She is one of my favourite historical figures” I smile. “There actually is a painting of her here at the museum that is one of my favourites. Do you want to see it?”

“Of course” he smiles back. “Lead the way, my lady.”

“My lord” I giggle when he takes my hand on his and kisses it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“She was beautiful.”

“She was, wasn't she?” I say while Pedri and I look at the painting in front of us. “And this is just a painting, so you can imagine how striking she must have been in real life. But she was more than just a pretty face. She was one of the most intelligent women of her time, and like I told you, the country didn't go to hell thanks to her.”

“So she basically was like you, but you have a faithful husband” Pedri winks.

“Oh, shut up” I laugh, giving him a little push. “First of all, you aren't my husband.”

“Yet” he smirks.

“And second, I've done nothing compared to everything she did.”

“Don’t say that, Sofía. You are helping people daily, making them happy and giving them hope, and I still haven't heard anyone complaining about it. And I'm talking about the people that matter, not the trolls online.”

“Yeah, I guess…” I sigh. 

“And if you don't believe me when I tell you that you are alike, just look at all the jewels she's wearing and the ones you are wearing right now. You are only missing the crown!”

“You know, I may like wearing so many things because of her” I chuckle.

“How so?”

“Even though I've always complained about my parents paying more attention to Leonor than me, there was a moment each month where I felt like that wasn't the case, and that was when my dad would bring me here to have something like a date just the two of us. We would visit a different part of the museum each time, but we would always come here and visit her, my dad always telling me something new about her. So I think I like jewellery so much because of all those hours I've spent looking at her and analysing every detail on this painting.”

“So like people say these days, you were influenced by her.”

“Exactly” I laugh.

“Do you have a favourite piece of jewellery she wears? Like one you wish you could have and wear every day if it was possible.”

“That ring” I say, pointing at it. 

“Wow, that was fast” Pedri chuckles.

“I've been obsessed with it since the first time I saw it for some reason. But unlike other pieces like the crown or the earrings, that one went missing. Some say she asked to be buried with it since it was a gift from the love of her life. And no, that wasn't the king.”

“So it was like… an engagement ring?”

“Something like that, yes” I say. “It was a ring that symbolised the love she and that man she loved so much had. A true and pure love that would last forever.”

“Like ours, then” Pedri smiles, kissing my hand again.

“Like ours, yes” I smile back. 

“One that we should also probably… seal, somehow.”

“What?”

“Sofía…” Pedri says, letting go of my hand to pick something that was hiding behind one of the benches on the room. A little box. A… wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Is that… Is he… “We always joke about me being the cheesy one in our relationship, but the truth is that when I have to actually be like that and put into words what I feel for you… What you make me feel… Well, I suck” he chuckles. “You actually are the one who has a way with words, the one who can properly express those feelings, not me. So since they say actions are louder than words, that's what I am going to do.”

“Pedri…” I whisper as he gets down on one knee. He's doing it. He is actually doing it, he… Holy shit.

“Sofía… my lady” he says with that smirk that he knows I love, the one I fell in love with the moment I first saw it years ago in Germany. “Would you marry me?”

“Pedri!” I gasp when I see the ring inside the little box. “Is that… is it…”

“We didn't desecrate any grave, don't worry” he chuckles. “This is a new ring, a copy of that one you love so much.”

“But I just told you about it! How did you…”

“Your dad” he smiles. “I didn't know which type of ring you would like because you like different styles, so I asked Leonor and your parents, and he mentioned this ring and this painting you've always been obsessed with.”

“So coming here tonight was my dad's idea?”

“That was all me, he just gave me the inspiration I needed. Going to museums has always been one of our favourite things to do together, this one has your name even if it wasn't named after you, it has your favourite painting of one of your favourite people, and the ring was inspired by it, so I thought it was the perfect place to ask you a question you haven't answered yet.”

“Uh?”

“I asked you a question, Sofía. Remember?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Yes.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, I want to marry you, Pedri.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” I laugh. 

“Great, cool… Cool” he chuckles, his hand shaking as he takes the ring from the little box and takes mine. 

“You know how to do it, Pedri. You already did it once” I tease him, showing him the plastic ring on the other hand.

“I know. But this is the real deal, you know?”

“I know. And I love it.”

“Do you?” he says once the ring is on my finger, his thumb caressing my hand while still holding it.

“I do. I love it almost as much as I love you.”

“Almost?”

“Almost, yes. Because it is impossible to love anything more than I love you, Pedri.”

“I love you too, Sofía. Or should I say…” he says as he wraps one arm around my waist and leans me back like they do in movies. “Fiancée?”

“You should… fiancé” I smirk before he kisses me. “Did you hear that noise?” I whisper when we break apart.

“What?” 

“There is something… Carlos?” I call.

“Sorry, ma'am.”

“Carlos, are you crying?”

“I… I am, ma'am” he says, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “It's just… you are getting married.”

“I am, yes” I smile, showing him the ring. 

“It's beautiful, ma'am. You look beautiful. Like, you should see your smile right now. It is the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.”

“Aww, Carlos” I say before hugging him and starting to cry too.

“I'm so happy for you, ma'am. For both of you” he says, awkwardly ending our embrace. 

“Thank you, Carlos” Pedri smiles. “We wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of you, you know? If you hadn't allowed Sofía to leave the Euros party…”

“Yeah” he chuckles. “Though I almost ruined it all when I heard your friends talking and I thought you were only interested in her because of a bet.”

“I actually think that misunderstanding is the reason why we are here” I say.

“What?”

“I don't know if without it Pedri would have been brave enough to tell me that he had had a crush on me for years” I say while giving him a teasing smile, his cheeks turning bright red. “Him being so open and honest with me just after we had met, somehow made me trust him and see that he wasn't like the other guys I had dated. That there were no secret intentions. So thank you, Carlos. And we are sorry for everything you've had to see and deal with over the years.”

“It's ok, ma'am. Just doing my job” he smiles. “Would you like to see the photos I've taken?”

“Photos? What photos?” 

“Carlos may have been our personal photographer and videographer during the night” Pedri says.

“What?”

“I wanted to remember tonight, and basically everyone in your family would kill me if there was no proof of what happened” he shrugs.

“That's… true, yes. Thank you” I say, kissing his cheek. “And thank you again, Carlos.”

“Ma'am” he replies, giving me his phone to check everything. From the sneaky photos he's taken of us smiling at each other throughout the museum, kissing or dancing together, to the video of Pedri getting on one knee and asking me to marry him. Because it happend, it was real. 

Pedri and I are getting married. 

[antimonyandthyme]

carcar the last of us au snippet

warnings: past character death, descriptions of the infected, descriptions of use of weapons and violence

What Carlos wants to say, in a way fashioned entirely after his father: That grave is about as deep as it needs to be. No one has the luxury to mourn. Stop fucking around and move on or die standing still.

What he actually says: “Do you need help?”

“No,” Oscar says, curt. “I should be the one to lay him to rest.”

“Okay,” Carlos says.

Maybe it’ll help Oscar, and Carlos shouldn’t begrudge him that. Help him avoid the scenario in which every infected thereafter shared facial characteristics with Charles. Max. A pretty mouth, a strong jaw. It’s his fault, after all. Carlos should have taken the time to bury all of that under the dirt. But all he could do was run.

There’s an almost relaxing rhythmic sound to the ground being hacked up, and a different kind of tanginess to the smell of fresh earth that lets him forget about blood for a moment.

He could be kind, sit at the foot of the grave and listen to Oscar talk about Logan. Why he thought coming back to where they grew up was a good idea. All these good ideas crumbling to dust, at every town they've witnessed that has eaten itself from the inside out.

Carlos closes his eyes. He doesn’t quite know what to do with another faceless loss, can’t add another number to his collection.

And anyway, Oscar's seen his fair share. He’s too good with the shovel for this to be his first.

Carlos clears his throat, when Oscar's finally done placing some leafy branch at the head of the grave. Flowers. On a grave. That’s some doe-eyed rose-tinted bullshit. There’s a strangled bird, caged somewhere to the left of Carlos’ chest. He doesn’t allow that bird any food or warmth or hope, for fear of softness. Can’t be soft if you want to survive.  

“We should move,” he says.

“We?” Oscar reels his head up. The loss carving its way down his cheeks haven’t fully dried, but he looks hopeful, almost like a lost dog. With how Carlos acts, he probably hadn't expected an offer like this. It should've been cut and dry. Getting you to your city, in exchange for a car battery.

“It’s a simple question,” Carlos says. “Are you coming?”

If he wasn’t already fucked all ways to Sunday, making his way along this forsaken earth with two rounds of ammunition and less than a quart tank of gas left, he’s definitely fucked now, adding a bleeding heart to their journey. But Carlos imagines Charles’ face if he were to leave a kid behind and—damn him for that. For being a ghost and still demanding good of him.

“Yes,” Oscar says.

Arguments and energy spent on arguments should be saved for the important things. Carlos throws what’s left of their shit into the back of the trunk, and wordlessly, gets into the driver’s seat.

--

“I’m just saying.” Oscar’s insistent. He’s spent the first half an hour of the journey staring vacantly out the window, but apparently, country music’s where he draws the line. “If for some reason this car caught on fire—”

“Don’t you even dare,” Carlos says. The thought of losing the Sienna makes him want to shrivel up and die. With luck, they managed to jack a vehicle with a working CD player. Tunes are a necessity in what is essentially a never-ending road trip. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“If it did,” Oscar says, “and I only had time to save one album—”

“Zach Bryan,” Carlos says.

“No,” Oscar says flatly.

“Dios mio. I should have left you back there.”

“You nearly did,” Oscar points out, but it doesn’t sound accusing. At Carlos’ furtive glance, he shrugs. “No hard feelings. I know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah?” Carlos doesn’t like the sound of that, gets his back all up. Ten and two on the wheel, lest he reaches for Oscar’s shirt to shake him until his teeth rattle. “What am I doing?”

“Self-defense,” Oscar says.

“I really should have left you.”

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way.” Seemingly chastised, Oscar digs his teeth into his lower lip. Charles used to do that too, before he acquired the ability to unhinge his jaw and take larger bites. “You look out for your own, right?”

Carlos wonders if Oscar can see his trauma for what it is. The way Carlos has been tuned toward Oscar in the passenger seat, as if an infected would crash through the windscreen at any second. The way he’d swerve right, driver’s seat to the road, without a second thought, if it meant his neck would be exposed instead of Oscar’s.

He’s got nothing to offer but his own body.

“I’m doing such a great job of it.”

“Mate,” Oscar says warily. If he could hedgehog his way any further into the car’s upholstery, he would be so far back he’d be invisible by now. Zach croons in the staticky background, There ain’t no world in which I am good for you. Ain’t no world, now or ever. “I wasn’t saying you weren’t.”

“No, really,” Carlos says, a little hysterically, “I’m doing such a great job—”

--

There were things in the world that should not have applied to Charles. Spend upwards of two months to four years with him and you’d start to imagine that his fingernails never got dirty, or that his smile never got ugly, or that his face never got bloodied.

But he turned like everyone else.

His skin bleached itself until every single vein was visible, and his eyes lost all recognition. He could still speak, for the first bit. Said their names in what was almost a parody. Cahlos. Cahhhlos.

“We have to,” Max couldn’t finish his sentence, though he kept trying. “We have to—”

Charles lunged for them like a rabid animal. They cringed, but the tire chains wound around Charles hold fast, and he shrunk back. Before lunging again, and again. If Carlos were a better man, he’d put Charles out of his misery. Too bad he was a big fucking coward.

“Don’t,” Carlos hissed, absolutely feral, when Max squared his shoulders and took a step forward. “Don’t touch him.”

Max’s chest rose and fall in rapid succession. His eyes were glassy and hollow. Max, who Carlos had never seen shed a tear once, who they all joked would survive them all. He looked a gentle tap away from breaking. “This isn’t about our stupid feelings, it’s about what Charles would have wanted.”

“Fuck you,” Carlos said, to nobody in particular. To maybe himself. Charles was his responsibility when they went on the raid for food, and Charles was still his responsibility now. Till the end. He’d shown Carlos the bite on his calf, almost guiltily, and remained docile and quiet when Carlos wrapped him in chains, while Carlos breathed through what was most definitely a panic attack.

Easy, Carlos. You’ve got to care of Max now. Easy, come on, breathe Carlos. It doesn’t hurt much, not now anyway. Just. Do me a favour. Make it quick, alright?

Cahhhhlos.

“I’ll take care of it,” Carlos said, because all of this was his fault. In the chaos at the grocery store, he got separated from Charles for a harrowing two and half minutes. That was all it took. “Just. Just give me a moment. Just give me a second, alright?”

Charles snarled, snapping his teeth against the metal biting into his skin. This couldn’t be how Carlos remembered him.

“I’ll do it in the morning,”Carlos promised. I’ll do it after sunrise, so he gets to see it one last time.

In the morning, this is what he found:

Charles, chest cavity open, lying still like he was peacefully asleep.

And Max, bleeding out from a bite wound in his forearm, the gun used to lay Charles to rest tucked at his feet. His skin was paper white, but his eyes were still bright.

“I fucked up,” Max said. It was the way he said it. Completely accepting and calm. It made Carlos drop to his knees and hack out the nothing he had left in his stomach. Bile burned his throat raw. “I thought I could do it, so you wouldn’t have to. Sorry.”

Carlos trembled, pushed his forehead into the ground. The entire world was bearing down on him like a magnifying glass on an ant. He didn’t want to look up. If he didn’t look up, then this didn’t have to be real.

“Carlos,” Max said, more gently than Carlos had ever heard him. By some magnetic, supernatural force, it lifted Carlos’ head from the dirt. Max had enough in him to kick the gun over to Carlos, and life in him yet for the corner of his mouth to twitch up. “You can do it.”

Carlos shook his head mutely.

The expression on Max’s face morphed into something unfamiliar. Pleading. It would carry itself into Carlos’ nightmares and every single infected running after him after. “You can. Just don’t fuck it up this time.”

--

“I’m,” Oscar says. He sounds heartbroken for people he doesn’t even know. “I’m sorry about your friends.”

“You didn’t know,” Carlos says. He never should have said anything. Maybe it’s the kid, snapping, I should be the one to do it. Mirrors are a relic of the past, but Carlos looks at Oscar and sees the same jagged stubbornness lining all his edges. “I’m sorry about Logan.”

They pass the rest of the drive in silence.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Cause you're a nightmare that i've not been dreaming of

Summary: It's all come down to this one event. Their friends have planned out the perfect moment and all Damian and Jon need to do is say the words. Easy as pie.

ft. Jason and Roy as chaperones, road trips, Ferris wheels, and some really cheesy fireworks confessions

“Alright, Squirts, listen up, for those of you who don't know me, my name is Jason and that’s Roy.”

Jason was turned around in the driver's seat, going over introductions. The man next to him had a trucker cap on and was wearing a dark red tank top, showing off the full sleeve of tattoos running up his right arm. 

He waved, propping his chin up next to the headrest on the passenger’s side. “I’m going to do a quick roll call, just to make sure we are not missing anyone. Once we get that, we’re good to go.”

A cheer went up, and settled quickly as Jason began naming people. Damian offered an earbud to Jon, who took it, settling back and shutting his eyes.

Skylar and Akira were scribbling onto the sketchbooks they’d brought, Kathy and Maya were behind them, dictating what they thought should go on it. Colin was avidly asking questions to the driver's seat.

“We’ve got a four hour drive, and we’re only making two pit stops, this is the last offer i’m making before i start the car.” 

No one got up and the car started the radio being flicked on and soft music filling the car as they started on their journey.

Within thirty minutes, Jon had conked out against Damian’s shoulder, still with the shared earbud in one ear, the other in Damian’s. The boy himself was half asleep, head leaning on the glass of the window. Colin had propped his phone up and was playing a random downloaded movie, Akira and Skylar sharing a random game of tic-tac-toe. 

After the second hour and a half, they were beginning to get rowdy. Jon was arguing with Akira about some inane topic that was probably not legal, Colin was playing keep away with Damian’s phone and backpack, Maya was hissing at them all to shut up as Kathy had fallen asleep in the midst of their chaos somehow.

The car screeched to an abrupt halt and they all yelped, grabbing onto another or a part of the car. Roy turned to the back, Jason tapping his fingers impatient on the steering wheel. 

“Alright, that’s much better. Colin, give the bat brat his stuff back, Jon and Akira, both of you are wrong, it’s much easier to do the third option. Keep the noise to the minimum if you would all like to stay alive on this trip, because my husband is much less nice than he seems, contrary to appearances.”

“Yes sir.” Six kids chorused back at him. 

“Not a brat.” Damian grumbled. 

“Kind of are.” Jon poked his cheek. “What’s with the Bat part though?”

From the front of the car, Jason snorted. “Oh boy, now that’s a nice story.”

“Jason, please don’t-”

“You all know Batman, right?”

They all nodded, the tips of Damian’s ears burning red and he attempted to hide himself in Jon’s shoulder.

“Baby Damian was obsessed with anything Batman, for some unknown reason. Every single one of his toddler pictures have him in some kind of Bat reference, and he had this little bat hoodie with ears he’d wear all the time, and put the hood up and would say “I’m the Bat!” in this tiny little squeaky voice.”

The car had gone up in laughter, and Jon had put an arm around Damian, whose face was now burning in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, oh my god.” The plea was muffled, and his older brother paid absolutely no attention to it, continuing on.

“Went on until he was maybe eight, and then he got back into it because of a show that would play on cartoon network? And I don’t think it’s ever returned to that level but there is no one in this family who does not call him a nickname without adding the bat.”

“That’s adorable .” Jon said, Damian groaning and attempting to disappear. Skylar agreed with the sentiment, Colin, Akira, and Maya attempting to quell their laughter. Kathy was sneakily snapping a picture of Jon and Damian in their position, since the words that accompanied  had been less than platonic.

It tapered off into a quieter buzz, most of them being occupied by a phone balancing on the drivers headrest and playing a random movie.

By the time they arrived at the Brandens’, all of them were either sleeping or half-asleep. Before Jason could stop the car and make the announcement, Maya hissed ”Wait!” silently and urgently.

In the backseat, Jon and Damian were curled into each other, Damian on Jon’s shoulder and Jon’s head on top of his, hands loosely intertwined.

”shit, SHIT, someone take pictures!!” Six phones were promptly whipped out, all taking care to turn off the flash and taking pictures from different angles. 

“Send all of those to me,” Jason instructed, turning off the car. At the motion, they stirred, everyone in the car whipping around to give some sense of normalcy as if they had not all been cooing over them.

“Oh.” Jon sprang away from him. “Sorry, sorry, did I crush you?”

“I’m not as weak as you innately believe me to be.” Damian grumbled, ears flushed pink as he looked out the window, their hands still resting together. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“oKay, on that note, we’ve arrived. Please disembark from the vehicle in an orderly fashion, and do not slam any of the doors or you will have a very unpleasant return.” Roy got out first, opening the driver’s seat door for a very pleased looking Jason.

They clambered over each other to get out, sighing dramatically as they all stepped out. “Freedom!” Colin shouted, jumping up and down a few times.

“My legs went numb.” Akira muttered, holding onto the side of the car. Skylar patted their arm sympathetically, backpack jangling.

“This is pretty big.” Maya looked at the surrounding farmland appreciatively. “How much of this is your folks?” 

“Bit farther down, I'll take you by the boundary line sometime, there’s a nice little place me ‘n Jon would go play as kids.” Kathy pointed to a place in the unseeable distance, coming a bit closer to her.

“That sounds nice.” Maya said, trailing off into a silence until Jon came running out of the car and slinging an arm around Kathy’s neck.

“Ooh, i have missed this place. Our treehouse still up?” 

“All of our hideouts are alive and kickin’.” Kathy said, “You should take your boy down to one of them sometime.”

Jon looked around, before dipping his head down and mumbling, “Not my boy.”

“Not yet .” Kathy poked him in the stomach, and as he doubled over, ruffled his hair, dashing off with a laugh.

“HEY!” He took off after her, the two of them laughing. Damian came up besides Maya, watching them chase each other.

“You know, I don't think I've really seen him act like this.” Maya remarked. Damian only smiled, mind flooding with flicks of moments and the sound of childlike laughter.

“It’s not something he had much reason to be like, I suppose.”

“It’s cute.” She nudged him. “Puppy-like.You like puppies, don’t you?”

“It is… endearing. ” The last part was much quieter. “It feels wrong. But right, at the same time. The feeling is…new, yet curious. And not entirely unpleasant.”

“You two will figure it out.” Maya smiled, pushing his shoulder a bit. “I’m gonna go and get ready, we’re going out to the fair today.”

“Okay.” He brushed his hair back, watching his small group of friends, eyes trailing after Jon’s form, his laughter keeping the soft smile on his lips. 

“You know, I think we have a history of this kind of thing.” A voice came from behind him, wiping the smile off of his face in place of a scowl. 

Jason came up behind him, Roy playfully putting the hat he was wearing onto Damian's head. 

Stupid older brothers.

“So I heard.” Damian drawled, turning to look pointedly at the both of them. “Tutoring, boy on the wrong path and a nerd. Except I was just better, not a nerd.”

“Fuck you, i was a cool nerd.” Jason crossed his arms. “Had an A in P.E. and everything.”

“You were also a scrawny little shit who carried books everywhere, had glasses for a short amount of time and could quote Jane Austen at the drop of a hat.” Roy set his chin on Jason’s shoulder. “Sorry, babe.”

“Well, you married this nerd.” Jason sniffed, before turning to Damian. “ You were like four, you can't tell me shit.”

Damian scowled. “You’ve simply come along to antagonize me, haven’t you?”

“That, to intimidate your friends and future boyfriend, and because ask yourself, would any of them have been any better?”

“Richard would have.” 

“Dickhead and Wallance would have played showtunes the whole time, been sickeningly in love, and would have shown all of your baby pictures and embarrassing stories within the first five minutes of the drive, especially if he saw you and Jon.”

“Whatever.” He huffed. “Will you both be escorting us to the fairgrounds?”

“Yeah, and we’re leaving in thirty minutes, so change if you want to, baby bat.” Jason took the hat off and ruffled his hair, causing Damian to squawk and swat at him, before glaring at them both and leaving.

They all met back up in front of the car, dressed in a new pair of clothes and eager. It was about 12:30 by the time that they managed to make it to the grounds, seeing as they’d left early in the morning.

“Okay, ground rules before I unlock this car.” Jason and Roy turned around, and everyone but Damian snapped to attention. 

“You have our numbers, I have yours, and if all else fails, you have a Damian. I don’t expect you to actually stay with us, but please try to stick together, if not a buddy system or something. Try not to get banned, maimed, or sick within the first four hours.”

He turned off the car and grinned. “Oh yeah, and have fun.”

That startled a cheer from them, and the doors unlocked, everyone filing out of the car. They elected to stick together as one big group until they found something that would separate them, Jason and Roy following behind before stopping at a concession stand and losing sight of them.

“Okay, so Colin, Kathy and I are gonna go check out the roller coasters,” Maya said. “Akira and Skylar are at the booths and Damian and Jon…”

“Are playing the games.” Jon finished.

“And I’m going to kick your ass, Kent.” Damian smirked.

“I’d like to see you try.” Jon shot back. Colin and Akira mimed gagging, the other three rolling their eyes.

“Take your weird flirting away from here, go, shoo.” Kathy pushed them away, both boys flushing as her words caught up to them.

As they left, their hands swung between them, just barely touching. They all shared a looked, the thought of absolutely hopeless running through their minds.

“I can't take this anymore.” Maya sighed. “I give, what time are those fireworks?”

This was driving them both insane . Jon glanced down, Damian’s hand brushing up against his for the millionth time. He wanted to reach out and grab it, but how would the other react?

He’d done it before, but now it felt different . He wasn’t leading him anywhere, and he wasn't gonna do the platonic hand holding thing he and Kathy had researched in middle school.

His eye caught on a shooting game, and grinned. There we go, he could challenge Damian, they’d chill, and bam, awkwardness diffused. 

“Hey, D, betcha I can get a higher score.” He pointed to the game, watching as Damian’s gaze went directly to the plush puppy hanging on the side of the booth.

Perfect.

“You’re on, Kent.” 

They raced to the game, slapping down their payment. The worker at the booth seemed rather amused by their playfulness, starting up the game.

“What the hell?” Jon squeaked as Damian began shooting with an insane accuracy, looking over to the side to grin, still getting the target.

“This is unfair !” He pouted. Plan foiled . 

“Tough luck, J.” Damian pointed to the plush he wanted, shoving it at Jon. “Carry. Let’s go find another thing for me to kick your ass at.”

He huffed, accepting it anyways. The booth worker laughed, shaking their head. “Wow, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re whipped.”

Jon sighed wistfully. “If only he knew that, too.”

He chased after Damian, the both of them challenging each other to various games. Jon managed to win a small kitten, presenting it to Damian, who looked away laughing.

“I’ve already won several, Jon. I don’t think you should add more.”

“You should win something for me, then.” He said, half playing. “Then you'll have less.”

“Okay.” Damian looked surprisingly serious, taking his hand and pulling him down the aisle. “Your wish is my command, my Prince.”

Jon flushed at the sincerity, giddy at the hand-holding. “Would this make you my Knight?”

“I suppose I would.” 

“Then, onwards, brave Knight, and pick your prince the most delightful of plushes.”

After a few minutes, Jon had a white puppy plush that he affectionately named Krypto. They fell back into the silence, dropping off the rest of the plushies at the car, before looking at the sky.

“It’s sunset. The fireworks will be starting soon. We should probably find the others.” Jon said, the puppy plush still under one arm. The kitten he’d won for Damian was peeking out of the bag the other boy had over one shoulder.

“Probably.” Damian threaded his fingers with Jon’s, swinging them idly between them. It had seemed completely natural, and suddenly, something clicked.

He needed to do something about this, and he needed to do something about it now. It was terrifying, the very thought, but if he really thought about it, nothing they’d done for weeks, months by now, really qualified as strictly platonic. 

Damian was blunt, unclear with his emotions, and a jumbled mess on the inside of his cool, put together and prickly persona. 

He could do this. Anxiety would not best him.

They met up in front of a picnic bench by the ferris wheel, the sun dipping deeper and the dark night coming to overtake it.

“All of you gremlins accounted for?” Roy asked, Jason besides him as they shared cotton candy.

“Yes sir!” Akira and Skylar had a large bag of kettle corn between them, Colin sneaking handfuls every few minutes.

“You guys empty every booth or what?” Maya grinned, Kathy poking her in the side to subtly motion to their intertwined hands.

“Dami here kicked my ass in almost everything.” Jon grumbled.

“Could have warned you against that.” Jason grinned, also taking note. “Anything interesting happen? Life changing developments we should know?”

“No.” Damian scowled, following his gaze and attempting to hide their joined hands. “What are we doing now?”

“Well, I think the ferris wheel is still open. We could catch that before the fireworks begin,” Colin began, everyone catching on.

“Yeah, sounds like fun!”

“You two should go ahead of us,” 

Damian and Jon were ushered onto a cart, and strapped in before they could say anything, being shot thumbs up and teasing grins. 

“What the hell?” Jon squawked as they were lifted into the air. “Jesus Christ, you swear the world was going to end if we didn’t get on this thing.”

“We’re friends with imbeciles.”

“Oh, have I been elevated to not-an-imbecile?” 

“Ugh.”

Damian shoved him playfully, and the silence settled in. Suddenly, they were much more aware of the atmosphere, high up on a creaky metal wheel, spinning them into the darkening night sky.

“The stars are nice. You can’t see them this clearly from the city.” He said quietly. Their hands found each other again, and tentatively, Jon leaned his head on Damian’s shoulder. 

“I’ll bring you down here again, we can go stargazing and you can tell me your smart people stuff.”

“It’s basic astronomy, Jon.”

“There are a bunch of things that I don't have the patience to memorize.”

Damian laughed, resting his head on Jon’s. “Hey, Dami?”

Jon’s voice came in a shaky whisper, his hand growing clammy. This had been building all day, and Jon was sure he’d explode if he didn’t say something soon.

“Yeah?”

“Gotta tell you something.”

Damian lifted his head up, and bit his lip. “I have something to say to you as well.”

“You can go first.” Jon squeaked, looking down and suddenly finding the railing of the cart extremely fascinating.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to go?” the pitch of Damian’s voice began rising and he coughed, willing it back down. “You began, of course.” 

Shit.

“Ah, um, okay.” Jon breathed in. “So, we’re like, friends, right? And uh, gonna be real, at first, I don’t think we like each other much? Well, i mean, i definitely liked you, or like, the look of you which explains a lot when we think about cause holy shit i was a douche-”

Damian’s quiet laughter startled him from his ramblings, and with pink cheeks he looked up, seeing the light of the ride shine on his face, ears tinged pink. 

“You are…very cute.” 

Jon made a noise that in any other situation, would have severely wounded his pride, but right now the words were playing on repeat in his mind. 

“That-that’s not fair!” He whined, taking his hand from Damian’s to use both to cover his burning face. “You can’t do this to me!”

“I think I can.” Damian whispered into his ear. “Might I pick up where you left off?”

Jon only nodded, still hiding his face in his hands. Damian shook his head, just slightly, and shut his eyes. 

Okay. Don’t chicken out, Wayne. You’ve been waiting. You can do this.

“Hm. You were correct, with your earlier statements. We did not like each other very much. But we’re friends now, and every new thing that I find out about you draws me closer. A bit back, I believe that my affections may have begun to stretch a bit further than, say, strictly platonic.”

He paused, exhaling and attempting to quell his thoughts in a way that made sense. Jon lifted his face from his hands, eyes wide and hopeful.

Jon was dreaming, right? Was this some kind of dream?

"Judging by your poorly thought out speech, I was wondering if you might return the sentiments. Of course, it's perfectly acceptable if you don’t, i do not wish to force you into something or make you feel obligated-"

He was the one rambling now, but for the love of all that was holy, Damian could not shut himself up . He had one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other still resting in his lap. The ride came to a stop at that moment, a whistling noise signaling the start of the fireworks began sounding. They were at the top, swinging a bit.

Jon grabbed his free hand, giving an affectionate, “Damian, shut up .”

Damian clicked his jaw shut and Jon cupped his face with his other hand. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay.” he whispered, shutting his eyes. Their lips met as the night sky burst into an array of color, hand in hand. Damian’s arm went around Jon’s neck, and his hand dropped to the smaller boy’s waist, bringing them closer together.

It was clearly inexperienced, but as they broke apart, stupid grins on their faces, that couldn’t have mattered more.

Jon leaned down, forehead resting on Damian’s, the sky still exploding behind them as the wheel cracked, signaling their movement.

“If that wasn’t clear, I really like you.”

“I ‘really like’ you too.” Damian hesitantly leaned up, pressing his lips to Jon’s again in a chaste kiss, pulling away and covering his mouth, quiet laughter escaping him.

Jon caught it, pulling it away from his face and into his own. “I keep telling you to stop doing that; it’s adorable and you shouldn’t hide it.”

Damian huffed, looking away but squeezing his hand gently. They got off the ride, walking towards the hill where the rest of their friends and Damian’s family were seated, gasping over the fireworks. They came up behind them, quiet enough not to disturb them. Jason noticed them, however, sending a subtle wink and smirk their way.

They were all seated under a tree, and Jon leaned against it, sitting down and opening his arms. Domain leaned back against his chest, Jon’s folded hands resting on Damian's stomach as the show went on. 

Once it began winding down, the others took notice of their presence, and their positioning. Upon asking the question, Damian pulled Jon down by the collar of his tshirt and kissed him, letting go just as quick. 

A cheer came up between all of them, whoops and jeers being thrown playfully at them. “Operation Damijon is a success!” 

The two chose to ignore that last statement, settling into each other. They had their friends, each other, and a blossoming relationship.

Really, what more could they ask for?

[storiesofsvu]

Touch of Your Hand

Emily Prentiss x Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, smut, teasing, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation, mommy kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral. Covers the "dirty talk/sexting" square for bingo! And yes... there are more of this collection coming. Technically a follow up to THIS piece, but can be read as a standalone.

Emily was so hellbent on getting out of work clothes and into bed she didn’t even hear the beep of the hotel lock as she tossed her pants in the direction of her go bag, letting out a happy groan when she finally took off her bra.

“Oh god!” Alex’s voice broke through the silence of the room, “I’m so sorry.” She shielded her eyes right before turning around and Emily let out a bark of a laugh.

“Would you relax.” She chuckled, picking up a tank top, “or did you forget we were naked in my bed less than twenty four hours ago?”

Alex’s cheeks tinged pink, a tingle running through her body at the memories that began to float through her brain. “I guess you’re right.” She laughed softly, turning back around to find Emily now in the tank top, the hem of it barely meeting the waistband of her panties as she dropped down onto her bed.

“I’m gonna call y/n quick.” She gestured with her phone as she leant back against the headboard and Alex stilled in her movement.

“Oh, I can… take a walk?”

“Not that kind of phone call Blake.” Emily laughed, “I’m just saying goodnight, it’ll be super quick.”

“Alright.” Alex chuckled, folding her blazer over the back of a chair before she quickly changed into pyjamas and ducked around the corner into the bathroom to brush her teeth and give Emily a bit of privacy for the phone call.

The phone rang against Emily’s ear only twice before you picked up, “Hi baby.”

“Hey. Just calling to check in, say goodnight.”

“But it’s early.” You practically whined back and she chuckled.

“It’s almost midnight in DC.” Emily replied while checking her watch.

“Yeah, I meant for you. Besides, I’m off tomorrow. I was kinda hoping for playtime.”

“Princess…” she warned, practically hearing your pouting through the phone, “didn’t you get enough last night?”

“I wanna hear you daddy.”

“I’m not alone angel...” She chuckled, her eyes following Alex as the other woman crossed through the room to the other bed.

“Fine.” You huffed, “guess I’ll just have to use my imagination.”

“You better behave…”

“I’ll try.” You giggled and Emily rolled her eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now get some rest.”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled again and Emily let out a huff.

“Goodnight.”

“Night daddy.” You purred into the phone before hanging up and Emily was left to sigh, dropping the phone back onto the bedspread as Alex let out a small chuckle.

“Sounds like someone’s toeing the line?”

“You think she wouldn’t be so needy after being used like that.”

“Poor girl probably gets lonely when you’re gone.” Alex said with a shrug, “was awfully nice of you to leave your credit card.” Emily laughed at that,

“According to the email I got she’s already racked up quite the tab.”

“Hmm.” She casually picked up her book from the bedside table, fingers sliding through the pages until she found her spot, “must be nice. Wonder if she got anything pretty.”

Emily glanced up from her phone, a brow raised at the other woman whose eyes were directed toward the book in her lap, but the small smirk on her lips told another story.

*

The low warm glow of light in the bedroom was what you preferred for taking risqué photos, and after your shopping spree and a few glasses of wine, you’d decided that was going to be your plan for the night. Hearing Emily’s voice simply spurred you on even more, wishing that she would’ve stayed on the phone longer, maybe asked what you were wearing like she normally would on longer trips out of state. When she didn’t, you simply huffed, changing into the second set of lingerie to snap a handful of photos to torment her with later down the road. You’d just changed into the third, padding across the bedroom when your phone buzzed on the bed. You glanced towards it with a curious expression on your face, as Emily had stated, it was getting late, there weren’t very many options for who would be texting you at this hour. Scooping it up you swiped open the message, it was a group chat, Emily’s name and a number you didn’t have saved but the same area code, the only message so far from Emily.

‘How was your little shopping trip?’

‘I thought you weren’t alone?’

The next message came in from the unsaved number.

‘Relax darling, mommy just wanted to see if you got anything pretty in green.’

Ah. Alex.

A sly smile on your face as you glanced down at your body, of course you’d just changed into the green set, it was as if these women had some kind of psychic powers. You quickly saved Alex’s contact in your phone, the device buzzing in your hand as you did so.

Emily:

‘Convenient we happen to be sharing a room this week, isn’t it?’

Alex:

‘I’ll say.’ 

‘Now sweet girl, would you like to show off?’

‘Yes.’ You quickly typed back, ‘just one second.’

Scrambling back onto the bed you positioned yourself to show off the full set of lingerie, practically pouting toward the camera as you took a handful of shots before switching positions and repeating the process another couple of times. Scanning through them you picked your favourite, double checking you were sending it to the right recipients before hitting send.

Emily:

‘Naughty girl, you were already doing this before I called, weren’t you?’

‘Sorry daddy. Just wanted to look pretty for you’

Alex:

‘I do think she looks rather gorgeous.’

Emily:

‘She does. As long as she asks before touching…’

‘May I?’

Emily:

‘Go ahead princess. Just remember the rule. You’re only allowed to come around one of our cocks.’

Alex:

‘And you better show us what you’re doing sweet girl. Go on, play with those pretty tits.’

You pulled the cup of the bra down, revealing your exposed chest to the camera, hands cupping at the flesh, pinching at your nipple as you threw your head back, taking a few more pictures before sending one off. Taking the bra fully off you tossed it to the side, falling back onto the bed and angled yourself into another couple of positions before sharing those pictures as well.

Emily:

‘Well you were right, green certainly does look good.’

Alex:

‘Bet you wish we were there to suck on your gorgeous tits, don’t you? Imagine the feeling of both of our mouths on you at once, would drive you wild, wouldn’t it?’

Christ.

You let out a whine, hands continuing to grope at yourself, pinching your nipples harder than before, wishing there was some way to replicate the feeling of what Alex was suggesting.

‘I do mommy, I really, really do.’

Emily:

‘Patience princess. We’ll have our way with you when we get back, don’t you worry.’

Alex:

‘Don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you darling girl. My mouth may be busy with your tit, sucking it into my lips, biting you hard enough to leave a nice mark so you’ll think of me every time you see it until it fades. But my fingers? They want to feel you, they’ll start to explore your skin, tickling down your body until they’re sneaking under those gorgeous green panties you’ve got on. I’ll rub at your clit softly, watching the way your mouth falls open, a breathy moan leaving you as I press just a little harder. It's no surprise you’re wet already sweet girl, I know how badly you want us, I’m sure you’ve started begging by now, that pretty pussy aching to be touched, for the feeling of my fingers slipping into you while Emily holds your legs spread nice and wide. Thankfully she can keep you pinned down while my hands bring you to your peak over and over until you’re begging me to stop. Go on darling, touch that dripping cunt, I know you want to.’

Alex could feel the other woman’s eyes on her from across the hotel room, glancing up to her, “what?”

“How the fuck are you sending shit like that with a fucking straight face?”

“Figured we were just here to torture the girl, right?” She shrugged.

“I guess.” Emily huffed out a laugh, “I just didn’t expect you of all people to be that good of a sexter.” Alex laughed, turning toward her with a teasing grin.

“I just have a way with words, what can I say?”

“As a linguist, I’m not that surprised, but.. I— er .. Jesus!” She laughed again and Alex cocked a brow in her direction, her head tilting in realization as she watched the pink beginning to creep up the back of the other woman’s neck.

“Is this turning you on Agent Prentiss?”

Emily had never been more happy to hear her phone buzz, letting out a groan at the sight of your hand slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. A moment later it buzzed again, a video clip of your hand moving beneath the fabric and a breathy whine coming from your lips, “please…” Naturally, Alex was much more composed, able to pick up her phone to type out a reply before Emily had even processed your begging fully.

Alex:

‘Oh sweet girl, tell us what you want. But don’t you dare stop playing with yourself, I want to be able to hear how soaked your pussy is, want to be able to see the mess you make all over those pitiful excuse for panties.’

‘Daddy didn’t get to come last night. Need to hear her.’

Alex glanced up from her phone to catch Emily eyeing her up and she laughed, a dark gleam taking over her eyes before she typed out another message.

‘Well if both of you are alright with it I’m sure I could help out with that.’

Emily:

‘Princess, you still okay with our sharing rule?’

‘Absolutely. Yes. Please.’

You couldn’t hear it, but both of the women let out a laugh at your eagerness, exchanging a glance, Alex waiting for a nod from the other woman before she stood from her bed, crossing the tiny space in between them and standing over her.

“Give me your phone?”

Emily immediately handed it over, watching as Alex flicked through a couple of screens.

*

Your phone began to buzz against the bedspread and you let out a frustrated whine at the interruption, your body already prickling with heat, pussy fluttering around nothing.

“Hello?” You hadn’t even bothered to check who it was, at this time was either Emily or work. One would be entertaining; one would be hell.

“Put it on speaker and leave it beside your ear.” Alex’s voice, smooth as silk, came through the speaker and you quickly did as she asked.

“Yes mommy.”

“Good girl.”

“Don’t you forget princess.” Emily’s voice broke through the speaker and you could tell she was already wound up, “you don’t dare come.”

“Yes daddy. I’ll be good. I promise. Swear.”

“For someone who’s not allowed to come you’re certainly eager.” Alex taunted before turning back to the other woman, “as for you… I do think you’re a little overdressed. What do you say sweet girl, should Emily get naked? That way I can see her gorgeous tits?”

“Y-yes. Please!”

Alex nudged Emily back on the bed, crawling between her spread legs as her fingers toyed with the hem of her tank top. There was a murmur of words between them that you couldn’t fully hear, your hand continuing to lazily play with yourself before Alex tugged off the fabric, letting it fall to the bed beside them.

“So fucking pretty.” She murmured, “bet you wish you could have your mouth on them, don’t you darling?”

“Always.” You replied with a whimper.

Alex chuckled softly, her hand wrapping around Emily’s jaw, tilting it to the side so she could have full access to her neck, her lips hitting the base of her jaw and trailing their way across the porcelain skin. Emily couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan at the feeling and the sound made you clench down around nothing. Alex’s lips formed a smirk, testing the waters with a light nip at her pulse point and Emily gasped, her hand shooting up to grab at Alex’s arm before the two fell backwards into the pillows.

“So pretty all laid out for me.” Alex murmured, her hand ghosting up Emily’s stomach before cupping her tit, groping at the flesh and Emily let out another moan, one that made your entire body tingle before she directed her words to the phone. “You’re such a lucky girl darling, having all this be yours? I bet you just can’t keep your hands off daddy, can you?”

“Fuck—” Emily mustered, back arching off the bed as Alex continued to toy with her nipple while her mouth wrapped around the other side, “she really can’t. Oh god… that feels so good.”

“Daddy…” You whined through the phone, earning a chuckle from Alex as she popped off Emily’s nipple.

“You said you wanted to hear her, didn’t you sweet girl?”

“Yes..”

“Well then how about you tell me what I should do?” Her fingers pinched at Emily’s nipple again, earning another gasp, “should I just play with these gorgeous tits or should I do something else, hmm? Should I get rid of her panties? Ah… how about…” Her fingers toyed with the hem of her underwear, “I get my hands on her gorgeous pussy I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing to her and you… you do exactly that to yourself? Be like I’m fucking you too. Would you like that?”

“Yes!”

The reply was instant and in pure unison from both Emily and you, pulling a dark chuckle from Alex who leant down to bite into the curve of Emily’s tit once more before she sat up between her legs.

“Are you still wearing your panties?” She asked.

“Mmhmm.” You replied with a whine.

“Time to take them off.” She instructed, her fingers slipping into the waistband of Emily’s underwear, tugging them down her legs and tossing them aside. “And I want picture proof.”

There was a scuffling noise on the other side of the phone and they could both hear your strained breathing as you shifted around before Emily’s phone buzzed, a picture of your legs spread wide for both of them to see.

“Good girl princess.” Emily breathed out, her head dropping back to the bed as Alex’s hands ran up her thighs, spreading her legs open.

“Such pretty pussies, both of you.” Alex murmured and Emily let out a gasp when her hand glided up her cunt, fingers twisting around to fully spread her open. “Now darling, I want you to start to fuck yourself, nice and slow, one finger for now, understand?”

“Yes mommy.”

You settled into the pillows of your bed, your hand sliding down your body, brushing over your clit before you slid one finger into your drenched cunt, letting out a soft moan as you did so.

“Good girl.” Alex praised through the phone, shooting a wicked grin down to Emily who was nearly shivering in anticipation already. A finger sunk into Emily’s heat with ease, wrapped in warm wetness immediately and Emily groaned. Alex’s finger pumped a few times, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “you hear how wet she is darling? I think we should give her more.”

“Yes!” You cried out, knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere without Emily getting off. You quickly added a finger, thrusting them deep into your cunt in a desperate search for your g-spot. You whimpered as the heel of your hand brushed against your clit, hips rocking up off the bed to meet your hand. You needed more, craved more, your hands were almost never enough.

Emily let out a gasp when Alex slipped a second digit into her, curling them perfectly within two thrusts,

“Fuck! Oh god, right there.”

“Play with your tits sweetheart.” Alex directed the command toward the phone as she leant over Emily, sucking a nipple back between her lips while her fingers continued to fuck the other woman. Emily’s breath picked up, her body vibrating under the other woman. Heat was coursing through her, pussy fluttering around Alex’s fingers while her hand tangled into Alex’s hair, holding her to her, encouraging more.

“More.. please.” You whined, one hand pinching at your chest while the other continued to thrust into you.

Alex immediately bit into Emily’s tit, adding a third finger into her cunt, moving her hand faster, resulting in a loud moan from Emily, nothing but soaked sounds leaving her pussy.

“Get the toy.” She gasped out, “oh fuck Alex…” her hand clutched at the bedspread, feeling Alex’s lips form a smirk against her skin, “the pink one that you like so much.” Her words were scattered, split up by laboured breaths, her body thriving against the bed. The two women could hear you scrambling, the sound of a drawer opening before the whir of the clit vibrator started.

“Pretend mommy’s mouth is on you sweet girl.” Alex murmured, her mouth kissing down Emily’s body while her fingers continued their torture and Emily pulsed around her, hips rocking up.

“Oh god!” You gasped as the toy hit your swollen nub, “daddy…need.. need to hear you…”

“Shit!” Emily couldn’t help the outburst when Alex’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to trace patterns on. “Oh god you’re good at that…”

Alex simply chuckled into her, her fingers curling quicker, pressing into the spongey spot inside her drenched walls while her mouth continued to torment her. Emily tasted divine and Alex almost wished she had more time to devour her, though she knew that there was a high chance something like this would happen again. Her tongue lapped out lower, smearing the other women’s juices across her cunt, truly getting a taste of her and Emily let out a whine at the stilling of her fingers.

“Patience.” She murmured into her pussy, “just want to make you feel good.”

“S— so good…” She moaned back, her hand clutching at the back of Alex’s head. Pleasure was shooting through her, building lower and lower in her gut as fire prickled right under her skin. She knew she was close and she knew Alex could tell. Alex moaned into her, the vibrations making Em’s thighs shake before she licked upwards, her fingers plunging back into her and Emily cried out, “please! Pl- don’t… don’t stop…”

“Daddy…”

Your whine came through the phone right by Emily’s ear and the sounds of you moaning were just the perfect amount to spur her on. Your little whines and whimpers that you made when you were so fucking needy and desperate to come, the ones usually swallowed by her lips, fingers or cock. The little sounds you made when you needed more, wanted it harder, faster, or to be stuffed so full you’d feel it for a week.

Your fingers moved faster, pumping harder with each thrust and you clicked up the speed on the vibrator held to your clit. Your body was trembling, coated in a sheen of sweat as you climbed higher and higher to your peak, pussy clenching down around your curling fingers. Through the phone you could hear Emily getting louder as she got closer, her vocabulary became more diminished, only broken swears and gasping moans escaping her lips as Alex fucked her with skill. Your eyes scrunched shut as you imagined her, picturing just how gorgeous she would look all spread out and needy for Alex, chest heaving as she attempts to catch her breath. You could scarcely make out Alex’s voice, knowing her mouth was likely rather occupied, urging Emily on, praising her gently, pulling more and more from the other woman with each pump of her fingers.

“I know you’re close.” She purred, “come for me…”

You let out a moan at Alex’s words, the sopping sounds echoing through the phone that you knew were coming from Emily’s pussy and your juices were suddenly dripping down your wrist as your body trembled.

Alex’s mouth latched back around Emily’s clit, sucking hard right as her fingers crooked into the spongey spot inside her and Emily shuddered, her hand shooting to her mouth to muffle her cries as her orgasm washed over her. Her hips jolted up off the bed, pleasure soared through her entire body, tingling down to the tips of her fingers. Alex softly kissed her throbbing clit, pulling a whine from the other woman before her fingers began to slow their pace, fucking Emily through her orgasm. When she was sure her cunt had stopped pulsing around her fingers she slipped them out, sitting up on her knees to suck them clean.

“Holy shit…” Emily muttered and Alex chuckled.

“Feeling better?”

“So fucking much.” She laughed, panting through her words, melting deeper into the bed at the feeling of Alex softly rubbing at her legs, pulling her back down to earth. Emily rolled her head toward the phone, “princess?”

“Yes daddy?” Came the quiet whine and she realized you’d turned the toy off, nothing but the sound of your breathing coming through the speaker.

“You alright?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. You did so good for us, you hear me?”

“Such a sweet girl.” Alex purred, “such pretty pictures.”

“I want you to go get a glass of water,” Emily started, slowly still catching her breath, “use that lavender sleep spray you like so much, you need to rest up, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” They could hear your slight groan as you moved from the bed, the sounds of you padding through the house before the sound of you crawling back into bed, stifling a yawn as you did so.

“You tired darling?”

“Yeah.” You yawned once again.

“Shouldn’t stay up so late then.” Alex chided.

“Worth it.” You replied with a small laugh, “thank you for taking care of daddy.”

“Of course sweetheart.”

“Now you get some sleep.” Emily instructed.

“G’night.” You mumbled, yawning once more, causing the other women to chuckle again before there was a click and you were burrowing into the pillows, asleep almost instantly.

“You alright?” Alex asked, her hand still stroking up and down Emily’s leg.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve been on a case in my life.” She laughed, thanking Alex when she shifted on the bed, tossing her the discarded tank top and panties before moving back to the other bed.

“You know she broke a rule, right?”

“Hmm?” She glanced up as she tugged the tank back on and Alex nodded toward the phone.

“You may have been a little…. distracted.” Alex smirked, “but she definitely came… and without even thinking about asking. Looks like you’ve got some punishments to dole out when you get home.”

“You’re the one who caught her, it’s only fair if you get to join in too.”

“Anything you’ve got in mind?” Alex asked, her eyes darkening already.

A sly grin overtook Emily’s lips as a dark chuckle broke free from the other woman, “Oh I’m sure I can think of a few…”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @overtrred28 @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @aws-l @alexusonfire

[joysmercer]

post-season 3

Terri will freely admit that she wasn’t overly enthusiastic about her daughter suddenly deciding (with less than a month’s notice) to spend two weeks of summer at a camp run by her boyfriend and otherwise minimal adult supervision. Yes, a lot of it was because she (selfishly) wanted her daughter to spend that time with her after not being together for half a year, but she was also concerned on a more general level: across the country with no cell phones? The summer before her junior year? Terri would much rather she stay home, focus on SAT prep if anything, and prepare for her future—not go to some theatre workshop where she’s unlikely to learn anything of value. 

It did help to find out that Gina has been cast as the lead in the first-ever stage production of a wildly popular Disney movie and will also be starring in the associated documentary. This is a novel experience, can go on her college apps and résumé, and really, who is she to judge when all expenses are paid in exchange for signing a few release forms? 

Still, she misses the days she could hear about each rehearsal straight from the source instead of random teasers dropped on the Disney+ twitter account, and she especially hates that she has to work and miss Gina’s big debut. By the time intermission is called on the livestream, Terri (ever-so-grateful for the weekend off) is already en-route to California. 

Terri pulls into the Shallow Lake parking lot and spots Gina immediately among the throng of campers checking out and saying their goodbyes. She’s grown at least an inch, Terri realizes with a jolt. Gina is nearly seventeen now, on the brink of adulthood, and the way she’s carrying herself now demonstrates a demeanor entirely different from the teenager she’d dropped off at MSY just a few months ago. Why does time always move so fast with these kids? 

Gina whips around as soon as Terri slams the car door shut, as if she was able to hear it from all the way across the yard, letting out a loud squeal of delight that sends Terri’s heart melting before launching herself straight into her mother’s arms. Terri is instantly reminded of a five-year-old Gina doing the exact same thing at kindergarten pickup.

“Hey, sweet pea,” she whispers, returning her daughter’s tight hug. Some things never change. 

“Mom? What are you even doing here? I thought you were closing on the house? Oh my god, I had no idea—"

“I finished all that yesterday, and since I have a free weekend, I thought we could take a mother-daughter road-trip back home – just like old times.” While their last few moves had been too far apart to drive, she and Gina used to spent nearly every school holiday or long weekend transporting their lives across state lines while eating their fill of fast food and pancakes, touring random obscure roadside attractions, and making some of their fondest memories. 

Gina beams. “I’d love that,” she says, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “I finished packing, actually, so I just need to take care of one thing real quick and we can head out.”

Then she smiles big and wide again, an expression she saves for truly special occasions (like, apparently, 10 hours with her mother in a car), and quickly kisses Terri’s cheek. “Love you, mommy. Be back in a bit.” 

Gina sprints off in the direction of, according to a nearby sign, a “Yurt Locker”. Strange name, Terri thinks. She doesn’t have a chance muse on it (or what the hell it even means) further, though, because someone bellows GENEVIEVE MARIE! so loudly that both Gina and Terri, now at least 20 feet apart, jump at the sound. 

The source of the voice appears a second later—or at least Terri assumes that’s who the curly-haired boy with a shit-eating grin on his face now standing in front of Gina is, given her daughter’s currently crossed arms, flushed cheeks, and, surprisingly, equally playful smile. Terri eyes the boy curiously. Gina doesn’t give out her full name to just anyone and rarely allows anyone to use it (Terri can’t remember the last time she herself even said the word Genevieve, let alone added her middle name to the mix). But Gina seems entirely unfazed now, as if having this boy yell it for all to hear is a regular occurrence. Who is he?

Then she notices the acoustic guitar he’s clutching, and it hits her. Kristoff: Ricky Bowen.

It had been a while since Gina had mentioned Ricky in their weekly FaceTimes. His name had only ever come up in relation to Ashlen’s role of Belle in the spring musical, and even then, it was mostly to complain about his two left feet. If it weren’t for a panicked text conversation on Valentine’s Day (Gina’s teddy bear got lost in transit, long story), Terri would have entirely forgotten about him.

Clearly, not only has his dancing greatly improved this summer (if yesterday was any evidence), but so has his friendship with her daughter.  

Ricky pulls out a set of keys and gestures to the parking lot, fanning his face with his free hand, and that’s when Terri realizes he’s wearing…a pink-and-blue snowsuit. Gina laughs and rolls her eyes at him, clearly teasing him about his ridiculous attire for an LA summer, but when he says something else, Gina suddenly shakes her head, pointing straight at Terri. 

Terri gives a small wave to the kids, and Ricky immediately waves back excitedly.  Okay, then. 

Turning back to Gina, Ricky says something else and Gina smiles shyly and nods. Terri watches as the pair hugs goodbye, a motion that is simultaneously so natural neither think twice about it—falling into a tight embrace that nearly lifts Gina off the ground—but so awkward when they separate that Terri can feel the tension from all the way over here. Okay, then, indeed. 

Ricky meanders toward the bright orange bug almost double-parked in the last slot of the lot. Terri recognizes the car from her driveway last fall – but also remembers Gina mentioning that Ashlen’s boyfriend also drives an orange bug that the three of them and EJ would carpool to school in, leaving Terri to wonder which possibility is weirder: that Ricky and his friend got matching ugly vehicles together, or that Ricky transported his friend’s car across state lines for two weeks and his friend actually agreed to it. 

There isn’t much she knows about Ricky Bowen, actually, except that he has an apparent penchant for nabbing lead roles out from under everyone else’s noses and—surprisingly—actually justifying those casting choices. Gina’s scene partners are often so dry she has to work double-time to make the chemistry believable. Last night, however, Ricky showed a level of talent that nearly matched her own daughter’s in the way he was able to hold the audience captive even without Gina on stage with him. There was one solo of his in particular that had actually caught Terri’s attention (she had taken the opportunity to answer some emails) when, right at the end, he suddenly directed the final line of the song away from the audience and into the wings: you’re what I know about love, he sang, straight to Ana. Straight to Gina. It was not only a genius move but one she doubted he was directed to do—he must have come up with it himself. 

Still, something about him sets Terri on edge. Questionable decisions (seriously, snowsuit?) aside, he has the demeanor of a class clown, someone who stays while it’s fun but bolts when things get hard. It makes Terri uneasy, especially since it’s clear that this is someone Gina cares deeply about. 

“Sorry about that.” Gina’s back, suitcases in hand, shaking Terri out of her reverie. “I had to tell Ricky I didn’t need a ride first.” 

“Oh, I thought EJ was giving you a ride home,” Terri says, taking one of the suitcases from Gina. 

A tense silence. “Mom, I told you we broke up, remember?” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Terri quickly assures her. Gina had called early yesterday morning from Kourtney’s phone, relating the news with a quick “it was a long time coming, we’re still friends, prom was super fun otherwise, see you soon” and hanging up before Terri could even get an I’m sorry out. “I just assumed you’d keep the same arrangement since Ashlen and your other friends are there, too.” She winces. “I see how silly that sounds out loud, though.” 

“Yeah.” More silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Terri asks gently. 

Gina shakes her head no emphatically. “I told you, it wasn’t really a surprise. I’m fine.”

“Okay, okay, got the hint.” Terri laughs, sighing internally with relief when Gina gives her a (albeit watery) smile. She opens the car trunk and shoves the suitcase inside.

“So, why was Ricky wearing a snowsuit?” Terri asks as they settle in and buckle up, unable to keep the question to herself any longer. 

“Oh, he wasn’t supposed to be at camp at all, and showed up without a ton of clothes, so he mostly borrowed from others I think, and got pizza all over his laundry yesterday, too.” she giggles slightly, then continues, “plus the guys dumped ice water on themselves last night and he put is wet towel on top of his open suitcase, like an idiot.” She says all this with the nonchalance of someone explaining 1+1=2, not…whatever she just said about sudden enrollment, pizza, and ice water. 

“That doesn’t explain the snowsuit,” Terri says, now even more confused. 

“Rumor has it he was supposed to go skiing with his ex? he didn’t say, though." Gina shrugs. 

“that girl Jamie’s working with?” 

“No.” Gina doesn’t elaborate. 

“Well, regardless, he’s very talented,” Terri supplies. “I did enjoy that one ballad of his yesterday, the one with the guitar and lights.” 

“Oh.” Gina smiles softly, almost to herself. “I liked that one too.” 

Terri’s stomach twists, like they’re about to go barreling off a cliff they can’t see and can’t stop. 

“Is he doing the fall musical as well?”

“I dunno. Probably. It’s his senior year, he won’t have many more chances.” 

“I didn’t realize he’s a year ahead of you,” Terri says, surprised. “How are his college apps coming along?”

“Mom,” Gina groans. “It’s literally summer vacation, and believe it or not, I didn’t ask. He probably hasn’t even started thinking about them yet.” 

“Fair,” Terri says, although, internally, she disagrees. if Ricky were truly serious about his future, he would have had his summer plans set in place long ago, and a solid school list by now. 

I can tell you like him, Gigi, she thinks. And then, suddenly, I wish you didn’t. 

It’s a strange thought, and a foreign one—Gina has yet to make a friend that Terri straight-up disapproves of.  What Ricky does with his life is really none of her business, and Gina’s a smart girl—she won’t go rushing into poor decisions even if her friends are walking bundles of chaos. Plus, from the little she’s seen, it’s clear he cares about Gina, too. Maybe as much as she does him. 

But Gina in a relationship is…different. Gina in a relationship was more carefree, a little less focused. She begged to go to prom despite having an exam the next Monday, she shifted her summer plans around for a camp she showed no interest in before, and she prioritized FaceTimes and texting every night over reading or sleeping. there were no lasting negative repercussions for any of this, but if there was ever a time for Gina to conserve her extra energy for something worthwhile, it’s now. 

Ricky a good friend, Terri decides. As friends, he keeps her grounded—but anything more than that? She’s just not sure. 

[crow-raven-crow]

𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Tagged by @weemssapphic - thank you, dovey 🤍

𝟏. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑?

16.. I cross-post everything, but i also just started like three months ago now SO

𝟐. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭?

79,333 (i've been seeing this damn angel number everywhere)

𝟑. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?

Mostly Wednesday right now. I'm getting into Game of Thrones and there are Resident Evil 8 fics in the works ! I want to get into RE8 writing more because I miss our Lady Dimitrescu ;)

𝟒. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝟓 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐬?

The Protector (series)

I Know You Will.. (lyric fic)

Slow Down, I'm Not Going Anywhere

I'd Hate To Repeat Myself

Monser (series)

𝟓. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬? 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭?

Yes! I try to respond to every comment I get on all platforms. I remember when I would comment on works before I started posting my own. It would feel so cool when I got to talk to the writer/artist about the work or anything to do with their process. It feels amazing being on the other side of that now. Like someone read something I did or saw something I drew and took the time out of their day to say something about it.. It's crazy to me and keeps me eternally grateful

𝟔. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Monster Ch.3 - Retrograde (~4.1k words) - THIS CHAPTER HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER DUDE. The flashbacks, the hopelessness, the deep emptiness that I felt while writing everything in Larissa's point of view literally made me cry. This whole series is just a miserable slap in the face with angst. The final chapter of this fic is a little over 10k words, and I wrote it all in one sitting LMAO. I went insane, but there is angst all over it.

𝟕. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Most of my fics are happy endings because even though i LOVE angst and I'm so drawn to dark fics and things like that, they're so painful to read and write. The pain in angst fics is not for the lighthearted, especially hurt/no comfort. The happiest I think would be the last chapter of The Protector - To Be Found.. This whole series is a bit of a cliche, but it was my first series and post on here.. It's got a special place in my heart

𝟖. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬?

Thankfully, no! It was definately something I was nervous about. I think that my writing isn't the best every now and then;;;; But I know that I'm only growing and challenging myself to improve with each step. It pushes me back up and makes me so grateful to everyone who does like what I put out, especially when they're not as popular categories or a bit of a different idea than what has been seen.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, yes. Always wlw. They're mostly due to the requests I get in my inbox, but that doesn't mean I enjoy them any less. I dip into most things now and probably more as I get more comfortable writing them. I have no issues with it, I just want to translate it well if you know what i mean ;)

𝟏𝟎. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

I'm not a big fan of writing them.. I don't think I'd really know what to do if I were to write one. They can be a really hard thing to write, but it makes me look up to the ones who can write them super well. If that's your thing and you love to read them, I'd check out @daydream-cement if you haven't already. They did a really good crossover with Gwen's characters called The Road Trip

𝟏𝟏. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧?

Not that I am aware of, no.. If this ever happens, please bring it to my attention. I spend hours creating and it's always like a punch in the gut when something so personal and meaningful to me gets stolen

𝟏𝟐. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝?

Nope

𝟏𝟑. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞?

Not yet. I haven't been asked about it before, but my current schedule is too packed for me to even contemplate the idea. One day!

𝟏𝟒. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩?

I'm very much on the x reader train. I basically only write and read that as well. Don't know if I'd write anything else, but there are a few Lady D x Larissa Weems ones that I've seen a bit ago that caught my eye

𝟏𝟓. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥?

Lover Academia.. Literally my next series LMAOOO. Guys.. It's been sitting in my notes since I wrote The Protector....... I changed a big part of it in early September and basically merged two ideas, but I haven't had the motivation to go in and rewrite them to fit together. It's like pages of notes.. AND I DON'T KNOW HOW IT'LL END SO THERES THAT TOO AHAH

𝟏𝟔. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡𝐬?

Setting of time and place. I've always loved describing things. I could write pages to just describe a room alone. I always loved reading stuff like that because it really helped me visualize what was happening, so I guess it translated into my own writing.

𝟏𝟕. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬?

I'm much slower than I would like to be. A big part of that is now balancing school, work, and a social life. I'm thankful enough to consider doing this and interacting with my mutuals as a bigger part of my life. It's crazy to think that I followed these people months ago, and now I talk to and write alongside them. I do so much with school and work that there are days where I could write but I allow my body to recharge for a bit and then pick it up later in the day.

But this also taught me a good lesson because I am not a consumable artist. I don't want to push out mediocure works, I don't want to operate like a machine, I don't want to put works out only for them to be swiped over everyones heads. I want my work to be savored, to be reread, to be saved in folders because "ohmygod that was amazing." As artists in this social world, we are pushed to create as much as we can, but I don't want to be lost within that.

𝟏𝟖. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜?

I've never done this before? I think I would when it comes to anything related to Lady Dimitrescu or Donna Beneviento, but I would make sure to get it checked before releasing it. It's a risky game to play sometimes.

𝟏𝟗. 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?

Wednesday (Larissa x Reader)

𝟐𝟎. 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

Monster (series) - It's the way I loved breaking my own heart. It's the way I loved making you all suffer along with me. It's the way the ending was so long but provided closure after the shit show that Larissa and Reader had gone through. I'd love to write one-shots for this universe. I loved it so much and feel like I can write their happier moments that way.

I Know You Will.. - THE LYRIC FICS YOU GUYS REQUEST LITERALLY HAVE ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. This one hurt so good. This is a part of Larissa that I will always want to love and protect. She needs to be reminded of how amazing she is - we all understand this part. But being allowed to feel those emotions and have someone stick with you through them is also oh so special.

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

IGNORE THE FACT THAT I FUCKED UP THIS POST SORRY

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

Tags (no pressure <33) - @sapphos-ode @i-write-sometimes-maybe

consider yourself tagged if you see this

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

x,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[nothwell]

Hello! I was wondering if you could share any tips on outlining, if you do so? I'm trying my second manuscript and I haven't found anything that really helps yet.

Hi there! So my outlining process has evolved over the past ten years since I first started writing Mr Warren's Profession. But the short version is: I write a book like sewing a quilt or patching a rip. I have a few key cathartic emotional beats I want to bring to life and I fill in the gaps between them with whatever is necessary to make the story make sense.

Beyond that, most of my outlining is just rapidly writing in brackets the absolutely necessary things a scene needs to get across and then going back and expanding on that in actual prose.

Examples from Mr Warren's Profession under the cut.

THIS SUMMARY:

[aubrey hits the pavement for new mills, old mills, counting houses, customs offices, considers moving to Liverpool, forgets to eat, etc., then gets a telegram from lindsey being like “miss ur faice” and goes to visit in london, telling himself he can also use the trip to look for london work; in reality he relishes every moment spent with lindsey, who lets him forget his troubles and relax.]

BECOMES THIS SCENE:

In Manchester the next morning, Aubrey shaved, dressed, and opened the door to go out before he remembered he’d been sacked. He stared into the empty hallway with unseeing eyes. Then he shut the door to put his head in his hands and think the problem over.

He had the whole day to himself. No responsibilities, no appointments, no schedule of any kind.

And he hadn’t the first idea what to do with it.

The day yawned before him, empty hour upon empty hour gaping into infinity. The thought of it made his stomach knot. His savings wouldn’t last forever.

One short trip out to buy a newspaper later, he pored over the help-wanted advertisements. There weren’t as many as he’d hoped. Still, he circled in pencil every business seeking a clerk. Tucking the paper under his arm, he ventured out into the city.

The first mill seemed promising. Its manager, Mr. Dobson, listened attentively as Aubrey recounted his relevant work experience.

“What did you say your name was?” Mr. Dobson asked when he’d finished. “Warren?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Dobson frowned thoughtfully. “One moment.”

Aubrey waited as Mr. Dobson flipped through the documents on his desk. At length he produced a telegram and brought it close to his nose. His eyes flicked over the words. His frown deepened. He glanced back and forth between the telegram and Aubrey’s face. Then he put the telegram down on his desk, his hand over the text.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m afraid the position’s been filled.”

Aubrey mirrored his frown, confused, but thanked him for his time all the same.

Similar scenes played out in every subsequent office Aubrey visited. One manager shut the door in his face the moment he said his name. Another was less careful than Mr. Dobson in keeping his telegram’s contents secret. The body of the message remained hidden, but Aubrey caught the sender’s name. Block capitals spelt out SMITH.

Aubrey’s eyes widened. He corrected his expression and returned his gaze to the manager’s face in time to see a responsive flicker of fear in the man’s eyes.

The contents of the telegram were easy enough for Aubrey to guess. He forced a smile and cut the interview short. No sense in wasting the manager’s time, much less his own.

As he walked down the road away from the office, it took considerable effort to keep his chin up. Internally, his emotions volleyed between despair and rage. And yet, for all his anger, he knew he had no one to blame for his predicament but himself. Smith didn’t need to stretch the truth to give any prospective employer more than enough reason not to want Aubrey in their office.

When Aubrey reached the next business on his list, he stared up at the door and found he couldn’t muster the will to knock. He turned and started back for home. A hot packet of chips from a stall along the way improved his mood somewhat, but his mind remained overset by hopeless dread. Soon he wouldn’t be able to afford food at all.

Aubrey trudged up the stairs to his garret well after seven. He made a game attempt at reading The Engineer as he finished off his chips, but couldn’t focus. With a frustrated huff, he crumpled up the empty, greasy newsprint wrapper and chucked it into his wastepaper bin. Then he went to bed and lay staring up into the darkness.

Smith had destroyed all Aubrey’s hopes of future employment in Manchester. Aubrey didn’t want to leave the center of the industrial revolution, the home of Mechanics’ Institutes and engineering schools and the rush and roar of iron and steam. But Manchester was hardly the only city in England.

London, for example. London had hundreds of offices and counting-houses and businesses who’d never heard of Smith, much less received his telegram.

It also had Lindsey.

~

THIS SUMMARY:

[aubrey falls into a routine of go out, look for work, come home, eat a hot meal, retire to a warm bed, fuck his handsome boyfriend, and get up the next day to do it all over again. When the weekend arrives, lindsey invites him out to the theatre again. Aubrey points out he’s hardly dressed for it, lindsey offers to loan him clothes again or buy him a new suit outright.]

BECOMES THIS SCENE:

The next day, Aubrey boarded the train to London. The ride took up most of the morning. Aubrey spent it combing The London Star for potential leads. By the time he arrived at his destination, he had a list of offices to visit, sorted by neighborhood, arranged in a loop through the city which would bring him back to the station by seven and home in Manchester by midnight. Before he visited any of them, he stopped at the Post Office to mail a letter.

As he’d supposed, no one in London had heard of Smith. They’d also never heard of Mr. Jennings or Rook Mill. Despite this handicap, Aubrey made some favorable impressions. He felt much better about his prospects than he had the previous evening, and relaxed enough to nap on the train back to Manchester.

When he returned to his garret, he found a letter shoved under the considerable crack between the bottom of the door and the threshold. He picked it up with a smile, which widened as he opened the envelope and saw it was exactly what he’d hoped—a reply to the letter he’d sent Lindsey that morning.

The day after that, he made another trip to London, reading the same paper and making a similar list. But the labyrinthine route he planned didn’t return him to the train station. Instead, after walking the city from noon to dusk, he turned towards Belgrave Square and landed on Lindsey’s doorstep.

Mr. Hudson raised an eyebrow at his appearance—the mud and soot and smog hadn’t been kind to his only suit—but led him in to the library regardless. There, Lindsey sat reading a fat leatherbound volume. When he saw who stood in the doorway, he broke into a grin and leapt out of his chair.

“Aubrey!”

Relief washed over Aubrey as he returned Lindsey’s grin. He’d felt conflicted about inviting himself over Lindsey’s house. He hated to be presumptuous. Yet it gnawed at him to spend so much time in London and none of it seeing Lindsey. The letter he’d received in reply, while affirmative, retained the perfunctory tone required to give the impression that their relationship remained businesslike. As such, Aubrey couldn’t quite convince himself his presence was truly welcome.

Now, however, with Lindsey pulling him into a strong embrace, Aubrey had to admit he might be wanted.

Aubrey leaned into Lindsey’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body, the secure hold of his arms across his back, and the gentle nudge of his chin against the top of Aubrey’s head. Lindsey loosened his grip to brush his fingers through Aubrey’s hair. Aubrey tilted his face up for a kiss, which Lindsey provided with enthusiasm.

“Did you have any luck?” Lindsey asked when he broke it off. “Are you hungry at all? Thirsty?”

“Tired,” said Aubrey, but he did so with a smile. “You?”

“Oh, fine as ever,” said Lindsey. “Please, sit—”

And Aubrey found himself ushered into a plush armchair with a glass of brandy by his elbow.

“Really,” Aubrey began, “you don’t have to—”

“Nonsense,” said Lindsey, dragging his own chair close to Aubrey’s. “Now, tell me everything.”

He put a hand over Aubrey’s, thumb rubbing across his knuckles. Aubrey turned his palm up to squeeze Lindsey’s in return, and told all. Lindsey’s hand clenched his as he described what Smith had done to his reputation in Manchester, but relaxed as he moved on to his greater success in London. Just as he finished, Charles arrived and announced dinner was ready.

“Dinner?” said Aubrey after Lindsey sent Charles on his way.

“Dinner,” Lindsey confirmed with a smile. It waned when Aubrey didn’t return it. “Is that not amenable to you?”

Aubrey, recalling his last dinner at Lindsey’s house, hesitated. “Won’t your sister mind?”

“She’s visiting Lady Pelham in Yorkshire. There’s no one here tonight but us.”

And the servants, Aubrey didn’t say.

But when he followed Lindsey to the dining room, the only servant there was Charles. The table was set far more simply than at the dinner party, with fewer courses and more familiar fare. Lindsey watched Aubrey carefully as the latter took his first spoonful of soup.

“Is it…?” Lindsey began after Aubrey swallowed.

Aubrey smiled. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

Lindsey relaxed and dug into his own bowl with a fascinating combination of relish and decorum.

“What were you reading when I came in?” asked Aubrey.

Lindsey swallowed. “Poe. Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque. Are you familiar with him?”

Aubrey hated to disappoint Lindsey with his ignorance, but he couldn’t pretend to know what he didn’t. “What sort of stories does he write?”

Far from looking disappointed, Lindsey perked up. “Promise you’ll stop me if I bore you.”

Aubrey nodded, and Lindsey launched into a passionate explanation lasting through dessert. He had his dessert spoon in hand, and had used to to poke at his sorbet no fewer than three times, but hadn’t brought any of it to his mouth—he kept pulling it away to throw his arms out wide in broad, emphatic gestures. Aubrey held back a fond smile at the sight.

“Doyle owes Poe a greater debt than he realizes,” Lindsey concluded. “No matter what Holmes would say on the matter.”

Aubrey supposed he ought to read it for himself, and said as much. Lindsey, who’d finally managed to sneak in a mouthful of sorbet, gulped it down to grin at him.

“What have you been reading?” Lindsey asked.

“Nothing so fantastical as Poe,” said Aubrey. “Just The Engineer.”

Lindsey shrugged. “I’m interested.” When Aubrey continued to hesitate, he added, “You’ve listened to me prattle on about Poe for the better part of two hours.”

But Aubrey, glimpsing the clock on the wall behind Lindsey, shook his head. “I ought to return to Manchester.”

Lindsey’s face fell. “What? Why?”

“Because that’s where I live.”

“Well, yes, but—it seems dashed inconvenient for you to travel all the way back there, just to return to London in the morning.”

Privately, Aubrey agreed. Aloud, he said, “What else can I do?”

Lindsey stared at him. “Stay here, of course.”

The offer lifted Aubrey’s heart to new heights. He swallowed hard to put it back in its place. “I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s hardly an imposition if I invite you.”

“After I’ve already invited myself over for dinner.”

Lindsey scoffed. “That’s not—dash it, surely you know you’re welcome here at any hour?”

Aubrey didn’t, actually. Such a notion hadn’t entered into his wildest fantasies. He knew he ought to respond with gratitude, but shock trapped the words in his throat.

When Aubrey failed to reply, Lindsey added, “I’m happy to host you for as long as you remain in London. Perpetually, if need be. It’d be my pleasure.”

Aubrey coughed. “Not perpetually. Just until I find employment. And a place of my own. Shouldn’t take more than a week.”

“It could take a decade for all I care,” Lindsey said with a laugh. It died when he saw Aubrey’s face at the thought of remaining unemployed for so long.

“A week,” Aubrey insisted.

Lindsey’s smile returned, weaker than before. “As you wish.”

Aubrey mirrored it more sincerely. “Thank you.”

They retired to the library after dinner. Lindsey happily handed his book over to Aubrey and selected another from the well-stocked shelves. Aubrey settled on one end of a long sofa. Lindsey stretched out on the remainder of it, the back of his head coming to rest on Aubrey’s thigh. Aubrey cast a bemused look down at him. It took Lindsey a moment to catch it.

“This all right?” he asked, peering up from his book with wide eyes, all the more ridiculous for being upside-down.

Aubrey bit back a laugh and nodded. Lindsey gave him a concerned frown in return.

“Are you sure?” he said, starting to sit up. “Do you need more room?”

But Aubrey put a hand on his forehead and gently pushed him back down. Lindsey acquiesced, his head rubbing against Aubrey’s thigh as he re-settled. Aubrey kept his hand on Lindsey’s curls and trailed his fingers through them as he read.

Aubrey hadn’t read fiction since he’d been a boy in the workhouse, piecing together scraps of improving penny literature donated to the Sunday schoolhouse years before. Poe proved leagues above anything churned out by the authors of Jessica’s First Prayer and Froggy’s Little Brother. Yet even the tension of The Fall of the House of Usher couldn’t keep Aubrey awake after the day—the week—he’d had. His eyes burned with exhaustion. He’d just made up his mind to soldier on without complaint when his half-stifled yawn caught Lindsey’s attention.

“Sorry,” Aubrey said in response to Lindsey’s quirked eyebrow. “It’s not the book, it’s—”

“—staying up past eleven after rising at five to tramp all over London on foot?” Lindsey ventured a self-deprecating smile.

Aubrey blinked at him, chuckled, then bowed his head in defeat.

Lindsey shut his own book, plucked Poe from Aubrey’s hands, and marked the page with a red ribbon from the library table drawer. Then he tugged the weary Aubrey up from the sofa, put an arm around his waist, and led him down the hall to bed.

The soft, warm bed began lulling Aubrey to sleep as soon as he crawled between its sheets. He stayed awake just long enough to feel Lindsey’s lean limbs curl around him. Then he was out.

He awoke the next morning with his cheek on Lindsey’s breastbone. He lifted his head from the steady rise and fall of Lindsey’s chest to gaze upon his sleeping face. The temptation of his parted lips proved too much for Aubrey. He crawled up to kiss them. Lindsey, half-waking, gave a hum of pleasure. Aubrey pulled away to watch his blue eyes flutter open.

“Good morning,” said Aubrey, unable to suppress a self-satisfied grin.

Lindsey echoed the sentiment and leaned in for another kiss. Aubrey happily complied, rearranging his hips to line up with Lindsey’s. As he’d suspected, Lindsey’s prick stood as ready as his own. They’d both gone to bed naked, which made it easy for Aubrey to frot their cocks together between their bellies. He grinned wickedly down at Lindsey as the latter’s throat bobbed in a swallow of eager anticipation. Then Aubrey rolled his hips. Lindsey arched his back and spent in short order. Aubrey’s crisis followed close behind.

An hour or so after a more drawn-out encore, Aubrey rose, washed, and dressed to hunt for work again. Lindsey, still abed and watching throughout, persuaded him to stay just long enough to gulp down a hot cup of tea and a biscuit. He couldn’t, however, persuade him to come back to bed, or to take a holiday from his quest.

Even after rising late and leaving Lindsey’s house later still, waking up in London rather than Manchester gave Aubrey an early start on his search for employment. He covered more ground than the two preceding days, following up on the more promising offices he’d visited on his first trip into the city.

When he returned to Belgrave Square that evening, Lindsey awaited him with a ready smile, a hot meal, and hours of fascinating conversation interspersed with quiet leisure. That night, Aubrey slept better than ever before, no doubt aided by the sweet release that came with clenching Lindsey’s cock between his own slick thighs.

The rest of the week fell into the same routine; Aubrey woke in Lindsey’s bed, marched all over London, and returned to Lindsey in the evening. Throughout the day, the thought of his Lindsey kept his chin up and a smile on his lips. He could happily spend forever like this—provided he found employment soon.

Saturday arrived. Aubrey rose at half-past six and began to dress. A low grumble from Lindsey stopped him.

“Where’re you going?” Lindsey mumbled, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Aubrey, who’d bent to put on stockings, abandoned the effort with one off and one on. “To look for work.”

“On a Saturday?” Lindsey sat up and blinked at him. “Who’ll be hiring on a Saturday?”

“Plenty of people, or so I’m hoping. Most offices should be open for half the day.”

“Good God,” Lindsey groaned.

Aubrey bristled. “We can’t all afford to live on five days’ pay.”

“No, I know, it’s just—it doesn’t seem fair.”

“It isn’t. And yet, here we are.”

Lindsey sighed. “You’ll be back in the afternoon, then? We could attend the theatre tonight. Or the opera.”

Aubrey preferred the theatre, but a more pressing concern pushed itself to the forefront of his mind. “I haven’t anything to wear.”

“Borrow something of mine. Or if you return early enough, have a tailor come ‘round and take your measurements. It wouldn’t be ready for another few days, but you’d have it by next Saturday, and then we could…” He trailed off at the look on Aubrey’s face.

“I should probably find work before I buy a new suit,” said Aubrey.

Lindsey frowned in confusion. “I meant I would buy it for you.”

Aubrey had suspected as much. His eyes flicked over to his only jacket, hanging off the back of one of Lindsey’s chairs. Its battered, dusty elbows and frayed cuffs looked even more worn in the midst of all Lindsey’s luxuries. Aubrey couldn’t deny it needed replacing. A new suit might even better his employment prospects. And yet the thought of Lindsey spending so much tied Aubrey’s guts into knots. Knowing Lindsey was rich as any Rothschild did nothing to ease Aubrey’s conscience. The money might be meaningless to Lindsey, but it meant everything to Aubrey.

Rather than voicing any of his actual concerns, Aubrey replied, “I had a notion we might visit the Crystal Palace. They’ve got an electrical exhibition on.”

Lindsey would likely be terribly bored, but Aubrey wouldn’t need a new suit to attend.

To Aubrey’s surprise, Lindsey didn’t seem at all bored by the prospect. On the contrary, his face lit up as if it, too, were powered by electricity. He announced his delight at Aubrey’s suggestion and shrugged on a dressing gown to cross the room and give Aubrey a celebratory kiss. Aubrey found himself smiling in return as Lindsey ran a hand through his hair and on down his cheek.

~

THESE SUMMARIES:

[Aubrey finds a great clerking job at some kind of office and is about to start when he gets the telegram from mr. Jennings (goes back to Manchester to pack up his stuff? Which is still there because he’s paid up through the end of the month?). Aubrey is torn between the sensible option of clerking and the fantastical possibility of getting started on his dream job. Lindsey is like “FOLLOW YOUR HEART!” because he’s too rich to ever have to deal with reality. Still, the lure of engineering is too much for aubrey to resist, and so he returns to manchester]

[aubrey explains he doesn’t want to work under lindsey again; lindsey offers to sell the mill back to clarence; aubrey says that’s not fair to the rest of the workforce, plus he probably wouldn’t keep even a coal-passing job under clarence; explains that this London clerking gig is the first job he’s acquired without personal connections; feels he hasn’t ever really earned anything in life; lindsey’s like “okay sure let’s pretend your friendship with certain individuals gave you employment advantages; those advantages wouldn’t have done shit for you if you weren’t a hard worker. Would Smith have done half so well in your place?” and aubrey points out smith is doing exactly as well as him; better, in fact. Lindsey doesn’t have much to say to that, apart from: “Seems like your mind’s already made up; no coal-passing for you.” And aubrey’s like “yeah but…. Engineering…” and lindsey’s like “ah.” And aubrey falls all over himself trying to explain his reasoning and apologize to lindsey at the same time but lindsey’s just like “whatevs, FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS~!” and aubrey can’t quite believe anyone would say that and mean it sincerely but if anyone would it’d be his precious puppy lindsey. The dolt.]

[lindsey is like “never let someone else stop you from going for what you want most” and aubrey is like “oh yeah like ur dad and school” and lindsey’s like “well, yeah, that, and also…” and aubrey is confused about what else lindsey could want most that anyone would try to keep him away from and then he’s like “oh wait his friends and sister tried to keep him away from me” and then aubrey is overcome by the realization that he is what lindsey wants most and doesn’t really know what to do with this information—quick, cover up your emotions with physical displays of affection!]

BECOME THIS SCENE:

Despite spending most of the night and all the next morning’s train ride considering the problem, Aubrey came no closer to a solution by the time he reached Lindsey’s doorstep. He found Lindsey at breakfast, surprised at his early arrival but delighted to see him. Aubrey sat beside Lindsey as he was bid and made a valiant effort at returning Lindsey’s joyful expression, but could do little more than push his bacon around his plate.

“Is there anything else you’d prefer?” Lindsey asked.

Aubrey jerked to attention. “No, sorry, it’s—I haven’t any appetite.”

“Everything all right?” said Lindsey, frowning. A handsome frown, but the sight cause a pang in Aubrey’s chest regardless.

“Fine,” Aubrey hurried to reassure him.

Lindsey hesitated, then spoke again. “Forgive me, it isn’t that I don’t believe you, it’s just…”

“…you don’t believe me?” A wistful smile tugged the corners of Aubrey’s mouth.

Lindsey mirrored his expression. “If there’s anything I can do…”

“I’ll ask,” said Aubrey, the lie coming to his lips even easier the second time.

Lindsey’s forced smile did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s guilt. Aubrey sighed and set down his fork.

“I received a letter from Mr. Jennings,” he said. Lindsey’s eyebrows rose against his reluctance to explain further, so he added, “He’s offered me a job as a coal-passer.”

“Excellent!” said Lindsey. “What’s a coal-passer?”

“The person responsible for keeping the engine fed.”

“Ah,” said Lindsey. “And this… distresses you?”

“I have to refuse,” said Aubrey. “A coal-passer doesn’t earn near so much as a clerk. And I can’t return to Manchester. Not when I’ve everything waiting for me in London.”

Lindsey nodded along, but his brows remained knitted. Aubrey returned to his plate. He poked a few morsels, then dared another glance at Lindsey, whose expression hadn’t changed.

“What?” said Aubrey.

“You don’t seem entirely at peace with that decision.”

Aubrey, unused to being so transparent, hurriedly dropped his gaze and replied to the table rather than to Lindsey. “It doesn’t matter.  I’m moving to London. I’ve a new job. A good job. I’d be an idiot to turn it down to shovel coal.”

The room fell silent, save for the tines of Aubrey’s fork scraping his plate as he stabbed at his eggs.

“Is it because coal-passing has more to do with engineering than clerking?” Lindsey asked.

Aubrey brought his head up sharp to regard Lindsey, whose confused frown had given way to concern.

“It does,” Aubrey admitted. “But that’s irrelevant.”

“But if you’d prefer it—”

“—then I’m an ass, and deserve to starve in the gutter, which is where I’ll end up if I—” Aubrey swallowed. “And besides, if I return to Rook Mill, I become your employee again.”

“I could sell it back to Clarence.”

Aubrey blinked. “What?”

“Clarence Rook,” said Lindsey. “If I return the mill to him, then you’d be his employee, not mine.”

Aubrey stared at him, unable to comprehend the notion of a massive property transfer for no other purpose than his personal comfort. “Mr. Rook would slash wages back to where they were when you acquired the mill. And he’d sack me again in the bargain.”

Lindsey appeared shocked. “Why would he do that?”

In lieu of explaining exactly what Lindsey’s dearest friend had imparted to Aubrey during their meeting, Aubrey replied, “Because I’ve a habit of violence towards my fellow staff.”

“Only under duress.”

Aubrey shook his head. “This clerking job—it’s the only one I’ve ever earned. Every other position I’ve held has resulted from personal connections. My—” Aubrey scrambled for the correct word. “—friendship with Mr. Jennings convinced him to hire me on as an office boy, and before that—the Post Office didn’t hire me for my brains.”

“Then they were fools,” Lindsey replied with conviction. “You’re brilliant.”

Aubrey’s instinctive protest stuck in his throat.

Lindsey spoke on. “Let’s pretend your friendship with certain individuals provided an advantage in seeking employment. What good would this advantage have done if you hadn’t proved yourself worthy of the positions you held? Would Smith have done half as well in your place?”

“Smith still has the job I was sacked from. I’d say he’s done better.”

Lindsey, who’d opened his mouth to continue, choked off whatever he’d intended to say.

Aubrey supposed he ought to feel victorious. He’d made his point and silenced his opponent. By the rules of logical debate, he’d won. Yet all he felt was a growing, gaping void in his chest. His soul threatened to sink into it.

Lindsey’s grimace became a sad smile. “Your mind’s made up, then. Clerking over coal-passing.”

“Yes, but—” Aubrey stopped himself.

“But what?”

“Nothing. It’s not rational.”

“To the devil with rational,” said Lindsey. “What is it?”

Aubrey forced the words out in a rush. “Clerking in London would be a step away from engineering. Likely forever. If I start as a coal-passer, I could learn on the job and advance to fireman, second engineer, engineer—”

“So become a coal-passer.”

“At what cost?” said Aubrey. “It wouldn’t be fair to Mr. Lawson. I’ve promised to start first thing on Wednesday.”

“What do you owe him? Write an apologetic letter and wash your hands of it.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you!” Aubrey blurted.

Lindsey sat back and stared at him. “What?”

“If I return to Manchester, it’s farther from you—and we’ve already planned that I’d move to London so we might be—” Aubrey cleared his throat and looked to his plate, stabbing his eggs again. “It’s not fair to you to have me run off, not after you’ve been so obliging. Putting up with my nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“This,” Aubrey didn’t say. Instead, he replied, “You wanted to go to the theatre, and I dragged you all over the electrical exhibition.”

“I suggested we attend the theatre,” said Lindsey, enunciating each word with careful patience. “You suggested we visit the Palace. I agreed, and had a wonderful time. We both did. That’s not nonsense. You listen to my prattling about Poe and Braddon and Doyle and heaven knows what else. You overlook my blunders—”

Aubrey lifted his head. “What blunders?”

Lindsey half-smiled. “I asked you if you rode horses.”

“That’s—” Aubrey coughed. “Anyone could make that mistake.”

Lindsey’s sheepish smile broadened. “I gave you a calling-card case.”

Aubrey, who hadn’t realized Lindsey recognized his error, flushed scarlet. “And I cherish it!”

“You do?” Lindsey sounded genuinely surprised.

Aubrey thrust a determined hand into his jacket pocket and produced the object in question. Silver flashed in the morning sunlight. Lindsey stared at it. Then a tentative grin appeared on his face, and he closed his hands over both the case and Aubrey’s palm.

“My point,” he said softly, gazing into Aubrey’s eyes, “is I’m delighted to see you happy. And stricken to see you miserable. Engineering—if you could’ve seen your face at the exhibition!—it makes you so—” He shook his head. “I can’t bear to watch you throw that away. You shouldn’t let anyone stop you from striving for what you want most. Least of all me.”

Aubrey’s reply—that Lindsey was what he wanted most—stilled on his tongue at Lindsey’s tone. It sounded as though Lindsey knew precisely how it felt to be kept from his most heartfelt desires. What could prevent one of England’s richest, handsomest bachelors from having everything he wanted, Aubrey couldn’t fathom. He thought back on what Miller and Graves had told him of Lindsey’s school days. That must be what Lindsey meant; his father keeping him from school, and his friends shielding him from romantic developments.

Then Aubrey recalled why Graves and Miller had wanted to speak with him in the first place. Why Rook and Miss Althorp had done the same. Every person in Lindsey’s life wanted Aubrey out of it. And Lindsey wanted—

Aubrey.

Lindsey wanted Aubrey most of all.

The revelation swept over Aubrey, flooding his mind with panic.

“Are you all right?” Lindsey asked.

Aubrey didn’t trust himself to speak. He stood and closed the short distance to Lindsey’s chair. Lindsey looked up at him, his stunning blue eyes wide in confusion. Aubrey closed his own and swooped down to press a ferocious kiss on Lindsey’s parted lips. Lindsey returned it with equal passion. When the awkward position grew too much to bear, Aubrey pulled back to rest his forehead against Lindsey’s.

“I suppose I’ll be an engineer,” said Aubrey, still not daring to open his eyes.

Lindsey kissed him again. “A brilliant one.”

Aubrey laughed and nuzzled Lindsey’s throat.

~

Nowadays my outline looks like writing out almost the entire scene in brackets, then going back and editing out the brackets, fixing the tenses, and cleaning it up until it's prose.

I'd compare it to learning to draw. At first the sketch and the final drawing look wildly different. But if you put the hours into sketching, eventually the sketches themselves become final drawings and you have to do very little to "finish" them.

Hoping any of this was helpful to you, and thank you for asking!

[onetouchparadise]

Lost ~ Sheldini

For @blaugrana-blues, hope you like it❤️

Too many memories came back to him as he strolled through those empty alleys, those narrow streets where they once hid fleeing retreat, to be free for a few hours, just the two of them, how hard it was to hold back those tears that had been threatening to escape for so long. That's why Paolo hadn't been back to Kiev since they… his heart refused to say it, his mind to think it, but that little voice that haunted his dreams at night had no problem doing it: 'You abandoned him can't you see? He came home and you never looked for him again, it's your fault! He must have already forgotten you…'.

He sat down on a bench, it was cold, like everything that day, maybe to warm up, maybe to cheer himself up he reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, he took one and lit it, he didn't like smoking and he didn't most of the times but it had almost become a habit every time he thought about him, he took a drag and tried to distract himself by watching the smoke being blown by the cold wind and reflected on what he was doing there. He honestly didn't know why he had arrived in Kiev, he usually refused trips to the East in places that reminded him of his beloved (he didn't have the strength to say his name), but, since all the scouts were already active elsewhere, Maldini was sent to look for talents in the Ukrainian league, when he had finished his work and reports to send home, however, late at night, he decided to take a walk around the city, as he had done so many other times when they were still together.

He knew that seeing Kiev alone in the night would only bring him regrets, but he couldn't help it, he had an urgent need, and perhaps the small hope of finding him and fixing everything continued to throb in his chest.

Without even thinking about it, by dint of thinking about his former love, his feet left and he walked into the only Ukrainian road he knew by heart, the stones crunching as he walked there again, he left the park and went more towards the suburbs.

It didn't take long before arriving in front of the familiar house, the one where he had lived for a while during the summer season, the white walls, which had once been clean and perfect, now had lost a bit of colour, the garden seemed less well-kept, but there were some flowers and a swimming pool, which had not yet been brought when Paolo visited the house for the last time.

Suddenly the wind got colder and a part of him wanted to go back to the hotel, continue his scouting work and, when the time came, go back to Milan and pretend like nothing ever happened (although he knew this trip had already opened a wound inside). He continued to observe the house when he noticed a light on in the living room, someone was there and who else could it be if not ... Maldini wanted to escape but ended up coming face to face with the window, he could almost see inside: a burning fireplace, a cup of hot chocolate and a chair, turned towards the fire, yes, it was him. "Sheva..." He found himself whispering nostalgically, and then covering his mouth, but by now the damage had been done, and he would no longer be able to run away as he once would have done in a situation like this, he watched apprehensively as Andriy closed the book and placed it on the desk, got up from the armchair and went into the corridor, it was still as beautiful as the first time.

By now Paolo could no longer hold back and decided that he would see him, he was missing and this was his only chance, he pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and looked at the two bracelets he kept on his right wrist, next to a red and black one there was a gold chain "It reminds me of wheat, my home... and you are the only thing I love more than my home" he still had Sheva's words clear in his mind when he gave the chain to him, he holds it tight every day .

He moved closer to the door when the handle moved and the head of his beloved popped out of the door, his hazel eyes shone with disbelief and he immediately went to embrace that unexpected guest: "Paolo...I missed you so much.. ." he said in a subdued voice, whose words were hidden by the now wet jacket on the collar, and Maldini cried, cried out loud "I love you Andriy, but I couldn't have come sooner, I couldn't do it... I love you" and they stood there locked in an embrace that lasted centuries that broke when their heads lifted and their noses touched, they kissed briefly, as if it was forbidden for them, and then Sheva stroked Paolo's hair, remembering fondly the curls that adorned them, the other meanwhile was still crying and the Ukrainian whispered in his ear: "Come on, let's go inside." and they entered the house holding hands. The first thing Paolo saw was a ticket for Milan, the plane was going to fly in a week.

Maybe…the fate wanted them to be together again.

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Post-Ride Notes

This is my final post for the foreseeable future. This is just a place for me to give my final thoughts about the ride, as well as some general statistics about the ride.

Thoughts

I don't really know where to start. I have already gathered a bunch of statistics from the trip, but actually talking about the trip itself has a kind of finality that I don't know if I'm totally prepped for. The trip is over, but I'm still in a weird state where every day feels like a rest day, where I'll have to bike another 80 miles tomorrow.

I've biked a few times since the trip ended, obviously much shorter rides. It was difficult at first adjusting to not having so much weight on the back of my bike, but it's nice now. It's also extremely relaxing not having to constantly worry about possibly getting a flat tire when I go over a bump. It's also been great not having to eat nothing but PB&Js all day. Despite typically really enjoying bread in general, I've actually been eating a lot less of it than normal, just because I no longer really have to eat it 3 meals a day.

My bike needs a lot of work done on it now, and I need some of my additional equipment replaced (specifically my gloves and shoes). However, I do still feel like this whole trip was worth it. It was a great palate cleanser for me, even if it was stressful and tiring at times.

I definitely probably have a bunch more things I could say, but I don't want to spend too much time thinking about how to say them.

Statistics

I made a spreadsheet here with various statistics for the ride. Here are some of the highlights:

Total Distance Traveled: 1432.78 miles

Average Distance Traveled Per Day: 79.599 miles

Average Distance Traveled (Including Rest Days): 62.29 miles

Longest Ride: 102.09 miles (Day 4)

Shortest Ride: 50 miles (Day 8)

Total Time Spent Riding: 120 hours, 7 minutes

Average Time Per Day Spent on the Road (Including breaks): 8 hours, 22 minutes

Earliest Morning Departure: 6:36AM (Day 4)

Latest Evening Arrival: 5:58PM (Also Day 4 - a 100+ mile ride tends to do that)

Average Speed: 11.95 mph

Fastest Speed Reached: 37.4mph (on Day 7)

Number of Apples Eaten: 71 (Average of 3.09 per day)

7 different types of apples eaten, not counting the several apples I ate I didn't know the type of

Apple type with the highest average rating: Honeycrisp, with an average of 7.1

Apple type with the lowest average rating: Zestar, as the only zestar apple I ate I gave a rating of 5

I took an average of 2.1 breaks on a given day's ride

Number of flats: 13, with all 13 occurring in the first 12 days of the trip.

The spreadsheet also includes some additional information and organization if you want to look at it, such as the minor point of whether or not I saw any deer on a given day, as well as a very brief overview of what topics I discussed that day. Thus, if anyone is interested in a specific topic (say, my design notes on Time Loop), they might have an easier time finding all the posts they want.

And that's it! I'll be posting a picture timeline later, with every pic taken of me by friends/family during the ride, but apart from that, I do not expect to be posting anymore (and yes, I know I said basically the same thing at the end of last post, about how I was going to only make 1 more post).

[blueskrugs]

length: 2.9k words

full fic

november

Madison doesn’t hear much from Tyson for a while after that. It’s not like she expected to, really. She knows the Avalanche went on another long road trip, and it’s not like they need to be texting each other constantly. 

Madison finds herself checking the Avalanche box scores after each game. Tyson gets two goals while they’re gone. Not that she’s counting, or anything. 

Tyson means to call. He really does. Or even text some. But in the air somewhere over Canada, he realizes he’s never actually talked much with Madison. He doesn’t know anything about her, unless you count what she’s like in bed. He’s never been good at small talk, or the talking phase. Which, when he thinks about it, is probably why he’s still single. 

It’s not until he’s staring down three and a half weeks of nothing but practices that Tyson picks up his phone again. 

Madison answers faster than he’d expected. “You’re not bored already, are you?” she asks. “It’s only been two days since you had a game.”

It’s only been one day since their last game, actually. Tyson whines into the phone. “Yes, I’m bored, okay?” Madison laughs at him. Tyson makes a face, even though she can’t see it. “We never get this much time off, it’s weird,” he goes on. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a smart boy, Tyson,” Madison teases. “Went to college and everything, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

That’s not to say that Tyson doesn’t have ideas, and he thinks Madison knows what he’s angling for because she’s not a fool. She’s really going to make him work for this one. 

“I mean, I guess I could watch some movies or start a new TV show,” Tyson hedges. 

“Watch The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings trilogies,” Madison says absently. “Could get you through a good couple of days.”

Tyson takes his opening. “You could always come over and watch them with me,” he says. 

Madison groans, as if they both didn’t see where this conversation was going. “You’re terrible,” she tells him. 

“No, really, we can just hang out,” Tyson says. And if hanging out leads to other things, well. “Don’t you have teammates you can hang out with or something?” Madison asks, skeptical. 

“I see them literally every day”—Madison laughs again—“and I want to see you,” Tyson adds. “Really.” 

Madison pauses on the other end of the line. “Fine,” she says finally. “Should I pack a bag?” 

Tyson freezes. He hadn’t gotten that far in his scheming. Never considered Madison would even want to spend that much time with him this weekend. He’s quiet long enough that Madison says something. “Tyson?” she says softly. Tyson shakes himself, tries to get his brain back online. “I, uh, I mean. I guess? You can, if—if you want?” he stammers. It’s Friday afternoon. He still has some practices over the weekend, but the long break between games suddenly seems less daunting with the prospect of Madison staying over, staying in his bed.

“I’ll be over soon, okay?” Madison says. 

Tyson isn’t sure if he manages to say anything else before she ends the call. Fuck. He’s getting the sense for the first time that he’s in over his head. He isn’t so sure he minds, actually. 

The weekend passes quickly once Madison’s there, though Tyson swears time slows down when he’s with her. They do actually end up watching The Lord of the Rings movies—which Madison had proudly produced from one of her bags, along with several packs of microwave popcorn, which had sent Tyson into a laughing fit— in between falling into bed (or the couch, more than once) and Tyson dragging himself out of the apartment to get to skate. 

“We really should do The Hobbit first, since those come first chronologically, but other than the first one, they’re not as good,” Madison explains at one point, gesturing with a handful of popcorn. Tyson just nods. “And we could have probably had a proper marathon and watched all the movies, but that’s like twenty hours, and I figured you had other plans, anyway.” She looks sidelong at Tyson, one eyebrow raised.

“You’re kind of a nerd, you know that?” Tyson asks later, breathless from making out. He’s pressing Madison into the couch cushions, their legs tangled together underneath a blanket. He’s aiming for light, teasing, but he’s not sure he quite gets there.

Madison tugs on the hair at the nape of Tyson’s neck. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.” Madison’s smirking a little. 

Tyson absolutely does like her anyway. It might make him like her more, actually.

Madison’s standing at the kitchen counter with the last of her coffee on Sunday morning when Tyson comes up and presses himself against her back, pinning her in place. He presses a kiss to the spot where Madison’s neck meets her shoulder. Madison tilts her head to the side some. With better access, Tyson drags a line of kisses down her neck and across the top of her shoulder. Madison sets her coffee mug down on the counter with shaky hands before she drops it. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” Tyson mumbles into Madison’s skin. 

From this angle, Tyson can see the hickey on Madison’s collarbone from the day before. He’s got one to match, somewhere. He wants to get his mouth on it again, make it darker, make sure it’s there for days. 

Tyson feels it more than he hears it when Madison laughs. She reaches up and drapes an arm backwards over his shoulder, holding him in place as much as he’s pinning her. 

“Sorry, bud, but some of us have to get back to the real world,” she says. She doesn’t make any effort to move. 

Tyson bites her shoulder, gently, but pulls away. “Same time next week?” he asks next, only half a joke. 

Madison turns around and looks at Tyson. “Tyson, next week is Christmas.”

“Fuck, is it?” Tyson tries to remember what day it is. His family is coming to town this year. He should probably put some effort into decorating his apartment, then. 

Madison just shakes her head at him. Tyson wonders if his mom and Kacey will be able to look at him and know what’s going on in his heart. 

Tyson’s apartment feels empty without Madison in it when he gets back from practice later that afternoon. She’d filled in all the quiet spaces Tyson didn’t realize it had—a spare throw blanket strewn across the couch, her makeup bag overflowing on his bathroom counter, an extra set of dirty dishes in the sink. 

He misses her. More than he should, probably. Huh.

This was never supposed to be anything. Just a hook-up from the bar. Now Madison’s spending weekends at his place, and Tyson wants to see her all the time. He should’ve seen it coming, maybe. He’d never been good at flings. 

He thinks about calling Madison, but that seems like too much. He’s been told he can be too much, sometimes. He puts his phone back down, flops face down onto his couch for a while, instead. 

Tyson spends the next few days doubling down on getting ready for Christmas. He had, in fact, forgotten that it was coming up so soon, and he still needed to get presents for his grandpa and sister. He digs out his meager box of Christmas decorations and sets them up around his apartment. It’s not very much, but it does go a long way towards making the apartment feel a bit more like home. 

He holds off on texting Madison until Wednesday. He shouldn’t have; his family’s flying in later this evening. They’ll be in town all week, and Tyson might actually go insane if he can’t see Madison, get his hands on her again until after the new year. 

If Tyson ends up picking up his family with sex hair, well. They probably didn’t notice. He’d shoved a ball cap on, anyway, though Kacey still raised her eyebrows at him in the rearview as she slid into the backseat next to their mom. He’d flip her off if he could, but his grandpa is right there.

Tyson makes it through the holiday without an interrogation from his mom and sister, but he knows it’s coming. The blanket Madison had left behind is still laying across the couch, and Kacey’s been curled up under it more often than not. Madison texts Tyson on Christmas morning, a simple “merry Christmas!” with a heart emoji that has Tyson grinning stupidly at his phone. Kacey clears her throat loudly, on the floor next to Tyson. He feels himself blushing as he fumbles to lock his phone and drop it face down next to him. His mom and sister share a look over his head. 

Madison texts again a few days after Christmas, asking if Tyson wants to grab lunch and hangout. Tyson does, obviously, but he has to figure out how to dodge his family for a few hours, first.

“I’m gonna go workout, I think,” Tyson announces. He needs to find his shoes, a water bottle. He is restless, too many days off in a row. 

Kacey looks up from her computer. “Oh, can I come? I’m supposed to be working out over break, too,” she says. 

“Uh,” Tyson says, trying to stall. He should’ve thought this through better. Kacey raises an eyebrow at him. “I was actually hoping for some time alone, y’know?” Kacey’s other eyebrow raises. 

“Are you saying you’re tired of us?” his mom asks, teasing. 

Tyson’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Madison again. He hasn’t had a chance to respond to her yet. He hates lying to his mom, but he still says, “Yes? No?” Tyson’s never been one to need space. “I just—” “It’s okay, Tys,” his mom says gently. “Have a good workout, sweetheart.” 

Tyson doesn’t linger, grabbing his coat and shoving his feet into the first pair of shoes he sees on his way out the front door. He texts Madison that he’s on his way in the elevator. He does pick up lunch for both of them, too, on his way over to Madison’s place. He’s thoughtful like that. 

It takes just about all of Tyson’s self-control to actually sit next to Madison on her couch and eat first.

“How’d you ditch your mom and sister?” Madison asks eventually, eyes still on the TV, playing some random Hallmark Christmas movie. 

Tyson swallows. “Told them I was working out,” he admits.

Madison turns to smirk at him. “Working out, huh?” she asks, laughter in her voice. 

Tyson nudges her knee with his foot. “It’s not entirely a lie,” he points out. His lunch is practically finished anyway, so he sets it aside and slides closer to Madison. “I think they’re on to me, though.” He never could hide anything from the people he loves. 

Madison swings her feet into Tyson’s lap. She’s still eating, and Tyson’s about fifteen seconds away from taking her lunch from her and just kissing her. His leg bounces—his restless energy has only gotten worse since landing on Madison’s couch—until Madison digs her heel into his thigh, forcing him to stop. 

She’s looking at him carefully. “Would that be such a bad thing?” she asks. “People knowing about us?”

Tyson considers. It’s not like there’s anything to keep a secret, really. He realizes that no one even knows that he and Madison had hooked up more than just that night at the bar. He hadn’t realized how close he’d been keeping them to his chest. 

Madison’s still waiting for an answer. Tyson squeezes her ankle where it’s still draped across his lap. “I guess not, actually,” he says. 

Madison grins at him and, finally, finally, sets aside the remnants of her lunch. Tyson slides his hands up Madison’s legs, underneath her thighs, and drags her into his lap, finally, finally, getting his mouth on hers. 

Kacey and his mom are waiting for Tyson when he sheepishly slips in his front door an hour later. Kacey’s smirking, leaned up against the counter with her arms crossed. Tyson could kill her. He tugs the collar of his hoodie up, hoping it covers the hickey Madison left on his collarbone. 

“Good workout, Tys?” Kacey asks. Tyson flips her off. Even their mom smacks her arm in reprimand. 

“Great, actually,” Tyson says, allowing himself a moment of smugness in spite of his embarrassment. He hopes he’s not blushing. Kacey laughs. 

“If you’ve gotten yourself a girlfriend, Tyson, you know you could always bring her around,” his mom says gently. Tyson winces. He really hates lying to his mom. And he definitely could not just bring Madison around.

“Yeah,” Kacey chimes in, “I want to meet whoever’s got you sneaking around like an idiot.”

“She’s not—it’s not like that,” Tyson rushes to say. “We’re taking it slow, I guess.” He’s definitely blushing now, his face warm under the matching gazes of his mom and sister. He forces himself to shrug, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. “We’re just…friends,” he finishes lamely. 

Kacey and his mom pin Tyson with matching pitying, yet disbelieving looks. Tyson hunches his shoulders, nervous underneath their gazes. He thinks of Madison telling him that it’s okay if people know about them. Thinks about having to tell his mom and baby sister that he’s just fucking around with a girl he thinks he could fall in love with, given the chance. He decides against it, for now. 

Tyson shrugs again. “I mean it,” he says. “It’s not really anything right now. I don’t know.” 

He escapes to his bedroom for a shower and to bury his head under a pillow for a while, until he feels like he can face his family again.

The days seem to pass more slowly after that. Tyson works out—for real, thank you very much— and watches way too many cooking shows with Kacey, curled up under a mountain of blankets on the couch. Tyson doesn’t know the last time he got to spend this much time with his family during hockey season. It’s nice, even as he starts getting restless again, anxious to be back on the ice with his teammates. 

There’s a team New Year’s Eve party at Gabe’s. It’s pretty chill, especially as far as team gatherings go, but Tyson maybe has a little too much to drink. He’s surrounded by happy teammates with their significant others, and he’s maybe feeling a little alone. He cracks open another beer.

It’s almost midnight when Tyson sinks onto a couch next to JT and slips out his phone. No notifications. He doesn’t know what he expected. Madison had posted on her story earlier in the night that she was celebrating with friends, too. Tyson stares at his phone for a moment. 

miss you, he carefully types out. It takes him longer than it should to get it right, drunk as he is, squinting at his phone and concentrating really hard on hitting the correct keys.

Madison responds quickly, way faster than Tyson had expected her to. The typing bubble appears almost immediately. Tyson waits.

miss you too tys, it says. Then, please drink some water. 

“Who the fuck is Josty texting?” EJ yells from across the room. Tyson realizes that he’s been smiling stupidly down at his phone. He makes to lock it and put it back away, but he’s not fast enough. JT grabs Tyson’s wrist and wrenches it around so he can see his screen. 

“Who’s Madison?” JT asks, quieter than EJ. He lets Tyson lock his phone, finally.

“She’s—” Tyson pauses. He doesn’t want to say that she’s no one, because that’s not really true. He doesn’t have any other word for her, either.

JT’s been watching Tyson’s face carefully. He knows better than anyone that Tyson isn’t good at hiding his emotions, and something must be showing on Tyson’s face now. JT’s eyebrows raise. 

“Is that the girl you brought home from the bar like a month ago?” JT asks. Tyson hesitates, pulling his hand free from JT’s grasp. Tyson’s hesitation is enough. “Oh my God, are you still fucking her?” 

Tyson winces. It sounds crass when JT says it like that. “We’ve hooked up a few more times,” he admits. JT doesn’t need to know about the number of times she’s slept over, too.

JT laughs at him, shaking his head. “‘Not really looking for anything,’ huh?” he teases, echoing Tyson’s own words from that night in the bar. Was it really only a month ago? Feels like Madison’s been in Tyson’s life way longer than that, with how quickly she’s taken over Tyson’s thoughts.

“I wasn’t!” Tyson protests. He shoves JT a little for good measure. He’s so drunk he doesn’t think it has the intended effect. JT just sways back into Tyson, leaning more of his weight on Tyson’s side. 

It’s almost midnight. Around them, teammates are moving around, finding someone to kiss. Someone’s opened champagne, someone else is passing full flutes around. Tyson takes one when it passes in front of him. JT digs his elbow into Tyson’s ribs one last time before getting up to find Sydney. 

Tyson’s left on the couch, alone. He pulls his phone back out as people begin counting down around him. Madison’s text comes through just as everyone starts cheering and the clock strikes midnight. Happy new year Tyson! 🖤 

Tyson closes his eyes and drains his glass of champagne.

january 

[justkeepdancing-nemo]

Finding Nemo: How To Land

“I’ve said several times that I’m afraid of falling but not landing. And the difference between falling and landing is that landing means that you can take off again...So, no matter how desperate the situation is, if we choose landing instead of falling, choose not to give up, and just land, we’re ready to fly again.” -Min Yoongi 

**

Summary: Robbie rats out Nemo to Marlin. They go on a road trip to bring Nemo home. Takes place December 14. tw: anxiety, depression

Part One: Failing Nemo Part Two: Something Else 

@robbie-ryeo 

@moon-yeongtae 

@baenxietydad 

Marlin x Robbie Texts

Marlin: [deleted] idk why I’m bother—

Marlin: have you heard from Nam-min

Marlin: Olaf called and said he skipped his exams and isn’t in the dorms. He hasn’t answered me

Marlin: what do you know?

Robbie: Im going to assume this is Marlin.

Robbie: Hello to you too

Robbie: Ugh, he left, though and he told me about it. I know where he is but I was hoping he would be back by now :(

Marlin: And nobody thought to tell me my son disappeared aiya this is great, I bet Tae knows too, eo?

Marlin: Tell me where he is. 

Robbie: he's actually with Tae I could take you there. 

Robbie: to be honest I want to go get him too

Marlin: of course he’s wife Tae, who else would encourage him to run away at least you’re more responsible 🙄

Marlin: So it’s far away, mm 

Robbie: yeah they went camping. Where are you I can come pick you up.

Marlin: In town, near the market

Robbie: I'll be right there

ROBBIE:

Spending the last what felt like 17 hours in the car with Marlin Bae had not been ideal. It wasn’t terrible, but the offhand comments about his driving were…annoying to say the least. Was it really so bad to obey traffic laws? Yes, he understood that perhaps they were in a rush because seeing Nemo and making sure he was okay, those things were important, but if they died on the way to the campsite who did that benefit? 

Anyway, they were here now and Robbie pulled into the nearest parking space and shut off the engine. The guilt bubbled inside of him as he wondered how furious Nemo would be with him when he saw him approaching with his father of all people. Maybe Robbie should’ve kept his mouth shut, but he was worried same as Marlin and well, anxiety did things to a person. Nemo would eventually understand. 

Maybe. 

“I think that’s Tae’s truck over there,” Robbie said, pointing to the familiar farm truck. “They can’t be that far–” 

Robbie abruptly stopped talking as he spotted Nemo. Nemo hadn’t seen him yet, but suddenly this felt like a much worse idea than it had two minutes ago. Nemo was clearly fine and smiling and—fuck he was going to hate Robbie.

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol was angry but it was less about Nemo skipping exams and running away than it was about…Nemo not talking to him. What was all that bullshit about how they were a team and in it together, huh? He let Nemo work instead of him handling it all with a second human job because Nemo insisted. But school, work, his Hollow duties, his social life…maybe something or multiple something’s had to give. He worried about as much. But always thought Nam-min would come to him and talk about it. 

He buried that anger because it was right to feel but wrong to express, and simply said. “Nam-min ah. Did you not think I should know my son is skipping town?”

Because look. The real root of his anger wasn’t that Nam-min must not be taking to school well, because he didn’t expect his son to be his mother. It was a little that Nemo didn’t tell him and a little that Nemo ran off and let Olaf tell him his son was missing. He was an adult and could make these choices. But an “Appa I’m dropping out and need a few days camping with Tae to clear my head” would have sufficed. Maybe he’d try to talk him out of it but he wouldn’t force Nemo to take his exams if he didn’t want to. 

Was he worried he would?

“You really should make your escape plans a little more logically.” He gently, sarcastically chastised him, moving to sit down next to him. 

He looked around at Tae and Robbie and sighed. “Both of you, forget how to speak Korean.”

NEMO: The first few hours into escape, Nemo felt amazing. Weightless. Free. For the first time in moons, there wasn’t something that he was going to have to rush to, or come from, or do. He was just going to curl up with Tae in the back of the truck and become a stranger in the middle of nowhere. He even turned off his phone, after fixing things with Robbie (kind of.)

And things really were good. That first night, they nicked into a gas station for snacks and cheap coffee. They listened to albums and talked and then went for a walk ‘round the campsite, just a short one, before falling asleep in the truck just like they talked about.

When the next morning came though, the pit in Nemo’s stomach had returned. His brain kept buzzing, telling him he was making a huge mistake. He was trying to ignore it though, because what was the alternative?

He and Tae were gonna go make smores– yeah, this early in the morning, why not?-- when Nemo’s choices caught up to him.

He spun around, eyes going wide. At first, his brain shortcircuited. How was Appa–? That didn’t make sense! There was no way he would even know that Nemo was gone!

Then, he saw Robbie lingering over his shoulder and everything clicked into place.

Nemo, at first, ignored Appa entirely as anger twisted his features. “You told him?!” Nemo shouted past Appa, staring at Robbie. “What the fuck, Robbie?!” 

ROBBIE: 

Robbie’s first instinct was to duck behind a tree as Marlin started casually strolling up to Nemo without a care in the world. Nemo wasn’t scary, obviously–Robbie loved him very much and he was so sweet and cute–but also he was a little scary and Robbie was actually sort of…impressed? Terrified? Of what Marlin was doing. It was probably all of the gnawing guilt making Robbie feel this way, honestly, and it was warranted. 

Nemo proved this when he immediately turned toward Robbie with rage in his eyes and yelled. 

And yes, there were definitely situations where Robbie would never betray Nemo like this, but this situation was a little bit different. Nemo was doing a very big thing right now–a very big thing that could potentially have very real consequences or spiral out of had very quickly if Nemo was left alone to overthink things–and telling Marlin was the right thing to do. 

Unfortunately. 

So, when Nemo yelled at him, Robbie didn’t cower or make himself smaller or let himself succumb to his guilt. Instead, with a sad look in his eyes (because hurting Nemo was never good or easy or something he was proud of), he just nodded. “I’m sorry Nemo, but he was so worried about you. We are both worried about you.” 

NEMO: 

Nemo wanted to shove Robbie. 

He wanted to kick Robbie.

He wanted to use his wind to send a blast of damp leaves into his face. 

All these cruel fantasies swirled in him as his fists curled, and the wind picked up and whipped at Nemo’s own hair. But just because Nemo wanted to do these things– punish his boyfriend for ratting him out, for ambushing him, for caring– that didn’t mean that it would make him feel good, or even get him out of the trouble he’d got himself into. No matter the size of the tantrum, he’d been caught.  And so as quickly as the wind picked up, it died, the air stale and flat. 

Nemo’s face flattened out too. He sent a glance toward Tae. “I’ll be back,” he mumbled. 

Then he stalked past Appa. “We can talk over here,” he said. 

He didn’t look at Robbie again. 

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol followed after Nemo, his expression blank save for a concerned furrow of his brow. 

“Nemo,” He began coolly. “Just one question. Can you even explain yourself?”

Or was he well and truly off the deep end, eh?

NEMO: 

As Nemo walked away, he carried his anger with him. It was a hot and comforting thing– bigger and easier to deal with than Nemo’s pain, his guilt, his worry. But it was also as fragile and thin as a balloon. With just one sentence, Appa destroyed it. 

Can you even explain yourself? 

Nemo couldn’t. 

And just like that– his anger collapsed in on itself into all the rest of those things, the things that Nemo had been running from. His face screwed up, and his lip trembled, and he knew that he’d disappointed Appa. He’d wasted the opportunities that Appa worked so hard to give him. He was ungrateful. He was a loser. He was stupid. 

Nemo’s shoulders hunched over, his hands pressing over his face as he began to cry. “N-no,” he admitted. “No, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” 

He was talking about way more than just explaining himself. Right now, it felt like Nemo couldn’t do anything. 

MARLIN:

Rightly or perhaps wrongly, he preferred this version of emotional Nemo to the red hot angry Nemo. Angry Nemo lashed out and left little room for getting to the root of an issue. When Nemo broke down like this he was honest and Marlin could actually figure out how to help him. 

“Okay. Can you tell me anything about why you didn’t take your exams? And why didn’t you tell me uni was hard for you, eh?”

NEMO: 

“I’m sorry,” Nemo said miserably, still crying and hunched, hiding his face from view. Appa standing there, talking to him so calmly, only told Nemo that his thoughts were right. Appa was disappointed in him. He had failed, miserably. This was shameful. He was nothing like– 

 “I’m sorry. Y-you worked so hard to help me afford everything and I didn’t want to disappoint you. I wanted to be like her, but I’m not. I’m not smart. I just– it’s so much– I can’t finish anything. I’m always behind everyone. I should be good at it. Everyone else can do it and isn’t like this.” Nemo rubbed his arm over his red, puffy face. “B-but I can’t and I–I dunno why.” 

Why had Finn and Louie been fine? Why was Mim and Hunter and everyone else in his fellowship programme so smart? Why was it just Nemo who couldn’t finish the reading and who was so stressed and who couldn’t sleep and was in so much pain? 

MARLIN:

“Hey, no, none of that. I don’t care if you finish uni or not, I only care that you do what you want to do regarding the issue. I never expected you to be like your eomma.” Mu-yeol said gently. “You wanted to go to uni so I worked to make it happen for you. It’s okay that you’re struggling to adjust but it’s not okay that you’re handling it by just running away.”

He always did this. Sometimes it was maybe the right decision, but this wasn’t one of those sometimes.

Then again, what had Mu-yeol done when faced with his guilt, his shame, and his fear? He fled Korea and came here. They weren’t so different.

“There’s no such thing as a smart person, Nam-min. There’s people who are very good at certain things, but there’s no smart people. Surgeons and rocket scientists are just as capable of being complete dickheads as anybody else outside of their fields. Your area of skill is in dance and science, maybe not other areas uni is making you tap into and that’s okay. It doesn’t make you a stupid person.”

NEMO:

Appa talked very kindly– kinder than Nemo knew he deserved. 

And it was this kindness that made him cry a little harder. Appa was probably right, because Appa was right about most things. Wasn’t that how kids always felt about their parents? It’s what made standing up to them so hard sometimes. And it made leaving them hard too. For this entire semester, Nemo had tried to do his best, to be an adult without Appa’s help, but the truth was he didn’t think he’d been ready. 

“S-so what am I supposed to do?” Nemo asked– wanting desperately to be told the answer, for once. He’d really tried to figure it out himself, and he’d failed. Couldn’t Appa tell him the answer, just one more time?

MARLIN:

“Right. I think it’s very obvious you have three options. I doubt you’ll be allowed to make up your final exams, so one of these three things is going to happen and it’s up to you which feels right for you.” Mu-yeol said gently, reaching forward to pat Nemo’s hair. 

“One. You retake all your classes next term. Full time student. You stay in the dorms or you can move home and I’ll pay the housing contract severance fee. You might lose your scholarship but it’s okay. I think I can afford it next semester. Two; you drop out and come home. We can try uni again if and when you’re ready. Three; I don’t think they’ll let you stay in the dorms if you stay in school but drop down to part-time, but, maybe they will? If so you can choose to come home or dorm, drop down to part-time hours, and if you lose your scholarship I’ll cover it.”

A beat. 

“Also, you’re nineteen. I don’t expect you to have your life figured out or even know what’s going to be the right decision for you a month, six months, a year from now. But one of those options is the right one for you for the now. You have to pick which one, Nam-minnie, I won’t force you to leave or stay in school one way or the other. I presented you a middle ground of going part-time if neither staying nor leaving feels right. You don’t have to decide immediately either. Sooner is better. But you can think it over some.”

NEMO:

All three options stressed Nemo out.

He’d wanted to quit uni about 24 hours ago. He was just so exhausted, so exhausted that the only thing that appealed to him was what he’d done– gotten the fuck away from the campus, disappeared and become a nobody in some sparse campsite far far away. But of course, deep down, he knew it wasn’t what he really wanted. He wanted a break. He wanted help. He wanted a fresh chance. He wanted all of his professors to tell him he didn’t have to take the exams (this was super unrealistic). 

If he dropped out, he’d never be a dancer, though. He knew that. A fairy like him needed the connections uni could bring. So he didn’t want to drop out.

Full time filled his brain with bees all over again, bringing back the panic so big, he could choke on it. Thinking about it made him wanna hop in Tae’s truck and drive even further away.

So– part time. Part time it felt like was the only actual option, even though he didn’t know what that meant or would look like, and if he had to leave the dorms– which was the only part of uni he’d really enjoyed so far– he’d be so disappointed. 

“Okay,” Nemo uttered in a small, defeated voice. “I’ll…think about it, I guess.” For the first time, he glanced back up at Appa, his eyes still puffy, leaking tears. “I really am sorry,” he said one more time. 

MARLIN:

“You have to communicate with me when you’re having a hard time. I can’t help you if I don’t know you need help,” Mu-yeol said gently, resting a hand on Nemo’s shoulder. 

He sighed. 

“Since I know you aren’t missing and are safe. Do you…want to come home? Or no?”

NEMO:

Confusion fluttered across Nemo’s face. The way this usually worked was– Appa took him home. It was that simple. Whether he had run away, gotten lost, or had to escape from his grandparents, Appa appearing always meant that Nemo had to get in a car or on a train and that was it. It could be comforting, in a way. No matter how nutty things got, Appa would arrive, and Nemo knew he’d be safe.

He’d never been given a choice before. Then again, he was 19 now. 

It still, sort of, felt like a trap. He knew what the right answer was. If he went back now, he could maybe take one of his exams– his contemporary dance exam. Which was just a paper, but it was a paper he’d written the most of. Maybe he could finish it, or turn it in unfinished, and explain. It was weird– this had always been an option, Nemo knew that, but only with Appa here did things feel easier to think about. Was it always going to be that way? No matter how old Nemo got? 

He still hesitated. “Home,” he said, after that beat. “..Tae needs to return the truck anyway.” 

MARLIN:

He nodded slowly and held an arm open for Nemo to curl up to his side. 

“Okay. Sounds good— and you tell me when you decide what we’re doing moving forward, okay?” Mu-yeol said, voice even as the calm spot in a river. 

“You’re an adult now, this is the part of life where you make the decisions. I’m just here.”

NEMO: 

But what if I don’t want to be? 

Nemo didn’t say it outloud. He probably didn’t have to, as he accepted Appa’s hug. The entire time they’d been talking, he’d wanted one desperately. He’d wanted one, actually, since he’d gotten injured, but there was a voice in his head scolding him, telling him, You’re too old for that. Too old to ask for help, too old to rely on Appa, too old to miss him. 

“I don’t feel like an adult,” Nemo confessed this, at least. “I dunno how to be one.” 

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol smiled sadly and played with the hair at the nape of Nemo’s neck, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I don’t either, kid.” He admitted. “I’ve been faking this whole adult thing for twenty-three years.”

Some years better than others. 

“You’ll get there too, as you get older.”

NEMO: 

Would he? 

Nemo doubted it. He wasn’t even sure he believed Appa, who was always the biggest and most adult-like person in a room, at least to Nemo. He didn’t think that would ever change. Even when Appa was depressed, didn’t Nemo still expect him to know everything? 

The future just felt like a complex problem that Nemo was never going to be smart enough to solve. That’s why he kept running from it. He had to stop though. If he ever wanted to get smarter – braver – more capable – to be anything like Appa. 

After a few more flits in which Nemo lingered in Appa’s arms and sniffled and wiped at his cheeks, he finally pulled away. It was time to go, he knew that. He trudged back toward Tae and Robbie, and only when he glanced up from the wet grass did he see Robbie looking at him – he’d probably been watching Nemo the whole time. 

Nemo’s face went red and he looked away. He probably should apologize to Robbie too, but he was too ashamed. 

And so he walked past him again and went to Tae. “We gotta head back,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” 

TAE: 

Tae immediately opened his arms and pulled Nemo in, turning so they were sort of hug-shuffling back to the truck. "Hey you didn't drag me anywhere I didn't want to be, okay? I love you." 

[apcthetics]

*˖ ⊹     “  excuse  me.  “  slipping  past  gina,  brady  disappeared  into  the  bathroom.  the  tickets  were  bought  for  a  plane  that  would  leave  the  country  in  less  than  six  hours,  and  he  was  last-minute  throwing  whatever  he  thought  he  might  need  into  a  suitcase  that  was  across  his  bed.  he  was  leaving  a  mess  in  his  wake.  brady  was  a  natural  at  this  kind  of  last  minute  travel,  with  so  much  of  his  job  hinging  on  his  ability  to  haphazardly  pull  remnants  of  his  life  together  to  disappear  somewhere  to  film  for  a  few  weeks.  he  had  gotten  over  the  anxiety  that  came  with  it,  and  airplanes,  and  new  places  years  ago,  but  there  was  a  different  kind  of  nerves  building  up  in  his  stomach.  something  that  could  have  been  butterflies,  but  felt  more  like  wasps.  when  he  suggested  to  indie  that  they  could  go  to  italy  for  the  weekend  instead  of  sticking  around  to  watch  all  of  their  friends  make  heart-eyes  at  each  other,  he  hadn’t  really  expected  her  to  say  yes.  after  all,  someone  as  popular  as  indie  surely  had  other  plans?  she  didn’t  have  a  partner,  but  that  didn’t  mean  there  wasn’t  interest.  she  had  always  settled  before,  what  made  this  year  any  different?  she  surprised  him  when  she  agreed,  and  while  he  was  excited,  brady  also  felt  the  sadness  that  always  came  with  knowing  it  wasn’t  real.

“  listen,  g,  i  told  you.  it’s  just  a  trip.  it  coincides  with  valentine’s  day,  but  that  doesn’t  mean  anything  except  that  indie  has  had  some  shitty  luck  the  last  few  months  and  i  don’t  want  her  to  spend  the  whole  weekend  depressed  about  it.  “  digging  under  the  counter,  he  tugged  out  the  little  bag  of  travel  supplies  he  always  had  stashed  (  so  he  wasn’t  running  around  trying  to  keep  track  of  all  of  his  essentials  when  he  was  on  the  road.  )  as  milo  tried  to  climb  in,  brady  scooped  him  up  in  his  arms.  nudging  the  cupboard  shut  with  his  leg,  he  then  dumped  milo  onto  gina  to  hold.  brady  was  a  good  actor.  he  wore  a  mask  around  everybody  so  long  that  he  wasn’t  quite  sure  it  hadn’t  molded  to  his  face.  yet  there  were  a  handful  of  people  in  his  life  he  knew  could  read  passed  all  of  his  quick  remarks  and  charismatic  smiles─  it  was  nice,  until  moments  like  this,  where  brady  knew  his  hopes  and  insecurities  were  so  openly  on  display  for  gina  to  look  through.  he  forced  her  a  quick  smile.  “  please  stop  asking  questions  about  it.  besides─  it  means  you  have  the  apartment  to  yourself  all  weekend.  don’t  you  have  some  hot  date  to  worry  about?  “  /  GINA  (  @cherryflcvoured​  )

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

First Meetings Masterlist

a change of heart and a silver lining (ao3) - bellawritess luke/calum T, 18k

Summary: Calum’s not obsessed with routine or anything, but he does become accustomed to certain constants in life. Michael is always about eight minutes late. Ashton always records vocals barefoot. Calum always knows the person behind the register at Bake Station.

Except today. Today it’s a stranger, though admittedly a stranger who looks enough like Jack that Calum can easily connect the dots.

“Hi there,” says the bloke in Jack’s place, giving Calum a bright smile. “What can I get for you today?”

If this is Luke Hemmings, Calum’s fucked.

(OR: wrong number AU and strangers to lovers bakery AU battled and this was the outcome.)

and what if you'd never smiled at me (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum T, 14k

Summary: Calum's really not happy about the new bakery that's just opened up down the road from his own bakery; it's gaudy and pastel and covered in flowers and is an offence to the name of baking. At least he's got a new regular to make him feel better about it all. One with a smile that can turn a day around just like that, even on a Tuesday.

As If Front Row Wasn't Good Enough Already (ao3) - drummer_boy michael/luke G, 8k

Summary: Calum forgot to bring a blanket and has to wait for more than 15 hours in line to get front row for one of his favourite bands.

He doesn't think his day can get any better when a really good looking stranger offers him his fleece blanket.

astral collisions (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum E, 42k

Summary: But then maybe it doesn’t really matter what the outcome is, because it’s not like someone like Calum can fall for Luke in twenty-four hours, or anything as fucking stupid as that.

Calum bumps into Luke in the strangest of circumstances in an airport thousands of miles from home, almost fifteen years since he last saw him. A completely innocuous encounter, until an overbooked flight means Calum makes a decision that surprises even himself. Twenty-four hours with a really hot almost-stranger is not really how he saw his work trip ending, but what’s the worse that could happen?

Butterfly (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton M, 29k

Summary: Luke is depressed and Ashton makes him feel loved (and maybe Luke returns the favour too). Also Malum. Yes.

changing flights so you'd stay with me (ao3) - bellawritess michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 9k

Summary: “No shit,” Luke says. “A famous guy bought your coffee?”

Calum flips the magazine open as best he can with one hand. It opens to one of those tear-out-page posters, and there’s Michael, captured in the middle of playing his guitar onstage, red lights bleeding out behind him and mouth open in front of a microphone in a stand, as if he’s frozen in place, mid-song. He looks good playing guitar, comfortable onstage.

“A hot famous guy, no less,” Calum says.

-

Or: five times Calum saw Michael in an airport, and the one time Michael saw Calum.

comfortable silence (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum E, 41k

Summary: Luke’s boyfriend touched him all the time, but it didn’t feel right anymore. It made Luke’s skin crawl, which was fucked up, because he used to love being touched. In hindsight, it was probably his body trying to tell his brain something wasn’t right with his relationship. At the time, he just thought there was something wrong with him.

Regardless of the reason, the strength of the urge to smother Calum against his chest took him aback, because he hadn’t felt anything like that in so long. And he kinda liked it, which really scared him.

for real (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum E, 63k

Summary: There’s an order to things in LA. An established code of conduct between celebrity and mere mortal, wherein the mere mortal does not engage with the celebrity unless it is an approved event, like a red carpet or a meet & greet. It’s a symbiotic relationship that allows the celebrities to live their lives in relative peace and allows the mere mortals to look upon their beauty in the wild.

Hey boy, stop pacing around the room (ao3) - Extras0fts michael/calum, luke/ashton G, 2k

Summary: Michael read the name written on his coffee cup. He sighed, cringing at the misspelling of his own simple name. In messy handwriting, 'Meekle' was scrawled along the side of the cup. He shrugged before taking his coffee and leaving for his next class while daydreaming about the clumsy barista boy.

Or the story where Calum is a clumsy barista who always gets his crush's order wrong.

If you dance with me darling, if you take me home… Will we talk in the morning? (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 4k

Summary: Luke is drunk, but nicely so, he thinks, everything slightly softer around the edges, lights a little brighter and laughs a little louder. Everyone and everything in the world would be slightly better if they were this level of tipsy all the time, he muses to himself as he waits for his drinks, leaning his chin in his hand on the bar where he’s wedged himself between two other people that were definitely waiting before him, but don’t have Luke’s height or smile.

if you ever feel alone, don't. (ao3) - galacticsugar michael/luke T, 5k

Summary: Michael needs a tall man with broad shoulders and a slim waist and he needs one now. Not for sexy reasons, although he wouldn’t turn one down for that. No, he needs a fit model for his design final project that is due in exactly 9 hours, and his usual model is in the hospital after having an allergic reaction to unannounced shellfish in the dining hall pasta.

me and you just singing our song (ao3) - rory_the_dragon luke/ashton E, 6k

Summary: Luke's come a long way from the kid he used to be.

He doesn’t know if anyone else has noticed, but Luke feels the difference.

And as soon as Ashton Irwin walks into Michael’s garage, Luke suddenly feels fifteen and blushing all over again.

(Or: the one with the very first band practice)

Pokemon Go Away (ao3) - Monorchism michael/luke N/R, 4k

Summary: Michael moved a little, wrapping his arms around me and clasping his hands in front of me. When he relaxed, his hands dropped to my lap. One of his thumbs was resting against my stomach, quite low, and he used it to push my shirt up enough that he was touching my skin. I felt him start to rub patterns into me, and I swore I wasn't breathing.

The worst part was that it was totally absentminded. He didn't even know he was ruining my entire life.

Suit Me, Unsuit Me (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/calum E, 3k

Summary: All he wanted was a suit and he had gotten much more than he had bargained for. But he was not going to complain and for the first time, he did not regret forgetting his suit. On the other hand, Michael let out a happy sigh; he was glad he opened the shop door to Calum, unlike his initial plan.

that’s why you like it (ao3) - merlypops michael/calum, bryana/ashton E, 69k

Summary: Calum starts doing workouts in the garden over the summer and Michael spends the whole time with his hand down his pants (until Calum takes matters into his own hands).

the kids will be alright, eventually (ao3) - wafflelashton luke/ashton T, 45k

Summary: ashton falls in love with his best friend, luke, and is somehow the last to know.

wait for me in the sky (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: “Bro is that you?” There’s an unfamiliar, gregarious voice in Luke’s ear, and when he turns around, he’s surprised to see it coming out of the hot eavesdropper’s beautiful lips. He’s leaning over Luke, hands braced on the overhead compartment, and he stares at Luke meaningfully when he says, “I haven’t seen you in fucking ages man! Not since, what, that night we hijacked that backhoe?”

***

Calum and Luke sit next to each other on a long flight.

you got me (ao3) - welcometobadlands michael/luke G, 3k

Summary: Luke didn't plan to be in an animal shelter the next day. But, whether with Ashton's advice from last night in mind or otherwise, he ended up wandering into one after work the next day, regardless.

or AU where Luke is lonely, Ashton sucks, Calum works in an animal shelter and Michael is a hot mess when he meets Luke

[biglisbonnews]

What You Missed Last Month in NYC (According to Linux) This is What You Missed Last Month (According To Linux), in which nightlife it-girl Linux takes us behind the velvet rope and into the VIP section of Scene-City. Through her extreme (sometimes exaggerated) lens, Linux gives us the tea on what really happened at every party-of-the-century that floods our Instagram feeds. (A note from the author: don’t take what she says too seriously — she’s just a club kid after all).How lavish a lifestyle would you lead if you were the most cunt socialite on earth? Did you know models off-duty only party in places photography is prohibited? The irony! Are you aware that the richest kids you follow are referencing the less fortunate when they’re snorting lines of mephedrone in abandoned Bushwick warehouses? The juxtaposition! In this world-exclusive edition of Lifestyles of the Bitch & Famous, we’ll explore the fabulous and private domains of New York’s exclusive scenesters.Keeping your diamond-studded finger on the city’s pulse is a lot like the crashing of a subway train: No matter how triggering it is, we just can’t look away. And to that I say: Don’t! I’m no Robin Leach; in fact, my enemies would claim “Leech” more fitting. My name is Linux, and I am the New York Downtown It-Girl. Each and every month I fill you, my loyal and wise-beyond-their-years readers, in on What You Missed in our vibrant city’s nightlife circuit. So drink up, besties, we’ve got a lot to get through. And yes, I’ll hold your hair if you’re feeling sick, but I only ask that you throw up inside the Uber Black... I just love watching the driver clean it up!March 16: Mock's Magazines See on Instagram So there I was, bored out of my mind on a Thursday in Manhattan. It was already halfway through the month and not a single stunt had been stunted! Can you imagine writing a column about how major NYC nightlife is and in two damn weeks no bangers had been banged? Thankfully, that was all about to change off the back of New York’s premiere partyboi, Evan Mock. HBO’s former pansexual-for-pay king invited all the model-slash-actors to downtown’s iconic Iconic Magazines to ring in his newest gig with canned cocktail brand JuneShine. Nothing is funnier to me than a celebrity throwing a party to celebrate them receiving a fat paycheck. As a capitalist, I’ll drink to someone rich getting richer any day! Hours prior to the event, the gang transformed Mulberry Street’s last standing bodega into a Mock-Centric nightclub with a disco ball and DJ booth to match. By 7 PM, people I did not know but did recognize began filling up the space as DJs Juju & Booker took control of the music. (Are they a duo or two entities? The world will never know!) By the end of the night, I was sitting on the curb outside, drinking a JuneShine with a random girl waiting for her Uber to take us all to her apartment for afters. All roads in New York somehow lead to being cracked out in a car crossing the bridge at 7 AM!March 21: H&M Isla Hennes See on Instagram If there’s one thing about me... I love an H&M party. And no, that’s not me kissing ass to get into their Mugler collab next month... *wink*! Part Spring 2023 presentation, part dinner party, the Swedish fashion brand sent cutesie little invites to all our agents to stop by their Williamsburg boutique and experience their latest “Isla Hennes” collection. The whole vibe was Mediterranean Vacation, very White Lotus season two tease. This was much-needed schooling on what to wear to such a trip for me, as for the last one I took to the Mediterranean my only fashion reference was Snooki when the Jersey Shore cast went to Italy. Upon entering I was immediately greeted with a mezcal on the rocks (my fav!) and shown the newest H&M looks that’ll be hitting the stores this season. After taking out my daddy’s credit card and buying the entire line, I was ushered to the dining room with all the other cool people for a multi-course dinner by renowned chef Camille Becerra. Other notable attendees included superstar Richie Shazam and celebrity stylist Beverly Nguyen. On my way out, a tarot card reader told me a life of fame and excess was on the way for me... I slipped her a twenty. I love you H&M, but next time let’s go to the real Mediterranean! Until then, Williamsburg will have to do. Now about that Mugler invite...March 24: HOE Five-Year Anniversary See on Instagram When I first moved to NYC, there was only one cool party in the city where the DJs played pop music. The name was Heaven on Earth, a monthly by Ty Sunderland thrown at downtown’s China Chalet. The spot was a Chinese restaurant by day that Sunderland turned into a pop rave by night. Sunderland would bring in two stripper poles for the crowd to dance on, and, when pop hits like “Bad Romance” played, the gays jumped so hard in unison you could feel the entire building shake. (I’m still shocked the floor never caved in!) When you were exhausted from dancing you could smoke a cigarette inside over by the bar. Unfortunately, like all good venues in New York, China Chalet closed its doors for good during the pandemic. Five years later, Sunderland took a chance and brought Heaven on Earth back for one night only at Brooklyn’s Sugar Hill Restaurant and Supper Club. To put it lightly: the night was a complete success! There’s just something about turning a restaurant into a rave that makes these kids go crazy! Gays, dolls and celebs filled out the multi-room supper club and raged to pop hits until the early morning. Ty brought in the same stripper poles from the China Chalet days, where nobodies felt like somebodies, dancing like J.Lo in Hustlers in the thick fog. In a side room, fashion gays gabbed and talked shit with stars like Adam Lambert and Christian Siriano. I know I speak for the whole scene when I say: please Ty, bring Heaven on Earth back full time and make her permanent home Sugar Hill!March 29: Sulwhasoo at the Metropolitan Museum of Art See on Instagram They say having an unexplainable feeling of being famous is an early sign of schizophrenia. If that’s the case, run me my diagnosis, baby, because tonight I feel like a star! At the last moment of March, Korean skincare brand Sulwhasoo spent the dollars to celebrate their newest partnership with the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rules of New York society: when you’re invited to wear a gown to the Met... you wear a gown to the Met. The evening began with a cunty step-and-repeat on the iconic Met steps. My turn for photos was after Rosé from Blackpink and before Charli XCX. Post-red carpet and on the way to the bar, the three of us talked about how excited we are for the upcoming Coachella season (which I am also covering right here for PAPER... stay tuned!). After picking up our cocktails, we spoke about how much we miss carbs before the three of us posed for even more pictures that the BFA guy chose to not tag me in. (You’ll regret this, Mr. BFA!) I later shared a bathroom lip-gloss moment with Song Jia and Duckie Thot. Bored of the girls' bathroom, I took a chance at the men’s, where I ran into friends Diego Villarreal and jewelry designer Austin Smith. The three of us also shared a lip-gloss moment. The thick of the party took place in the Met’s Temple of Dendur. I’ve lived through many major nights, but there’s absolutely nothing more iconic than drinking with a bunch of A-Listers around millions of dollars' worth of ancient Egyptian artifacts! Of course, the night wouldn’t have been complete without a giant goodie bag of Sulwhasoo skincare. If you notice me getting hotter in the next few weeks... it’s not Sulwhasoo, it’s the baby blood we all drank at the Illuminati meeting afterward! Related | A Night at the Museum With Sulwhasoo and RoséPhotography, styling and hair: Airik Prince Art direction: Chris Correa https://www.papermag.com/linux-what-you-missed-march23-2659738024.html