#where thanks to the algo like… three people will see it probably

[c-rowlesdraws]

Hey tumblr.

I want to share a post from The Guardian that was published today.

“Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear.

“It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.”

People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added.

“I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.””

Everyone should read this article about “DOGE” tearing apart USAID (and then read more reporting about how they are being allowed to do the same to other US federal entities). Elon Musk and his minions are violating our highest laws and destroying lives and livelihoods in the US and abroad. USAID is less than 1% of the federal budget— this isn’t about cost-cutting or “investigating fraud”. It’s about cruelty and seeing how much unlawful devastation and psychological warfare they can get away with, with the intention to repeat this process at one federal agency after another. They already have access to IT systems at the Treasury, NOAA, and other agencies, and have taken over OPM (essentially HR for the federal government), using the latter to send demeaning and threatening e-mail blasts to civil servants.

I’m urging everyone who reads this to recognize what’s happening here and how abhorrent and frightening it is. I wager that even most people who wanted Trump back didn’t want a centibillionaire technocrat making unilateral decisions on which parts of the federal government to “feed into the wood chipper” (as he has described his team’s actions at USAID in a recent post on X, The Everything App).

Please call your elected representatives and urge them to act against Musk now— before his actions make our legislative branch totally irrelevant.

I’ve been seeing posts about Musk’s coup-in-progress going around on here, but I feel like a lot of people still aren’t aware of the extent of it, and I really want to help get the word out. I’m heartsick for all the civil servants at USAID and beyond. Some of them, their unions, and some Democratic congresspeople and others are speaking out, but these workers need us everyday Americans to speak out for them, too.

Thank you for reading. And anyone who isn’t American, please keep us in your thoughts.

[toxicanonymity]

readmore for those who don't wanna see talk of engagement & motivation etc.

Anonymous asked: hi toxic, small fanfiction writer here 👋. i hope i’m not clogging up your inbox, you seem super kind and i’m just seeking some advice as a writer myself.

i’ve been writing fanfiction for a little over a year now on tumblr. my blog has grown more than i ever expected. before this comes off as ungrateful I’m so thankful for anyone who reads my work. my work comparatively gets few notes (400-500) and people don’t seem to be interested in my series or characters. i see content creators with similar work as me getting people interested and invested in their stories. i don’t want to compare myself to them, but it’s difficult not to wonder if my content is just not good enough. i guess i’m just asking if and how one can stay motivated to keep putting out work if hardly anyone is interested. i posted my writing because i wanted to share my love for my fandom but it just feels like i’m throwing it into a void. is it because i’m new? or does it have to do with the algo? i just don’t know anymore and i feel like quitting. all i look forward to is seeing my two or three commenters leave their comments. it’s the only thing keeping me going. thanks again, big fan hehe

Toxic: Don’t worry about my inbox, it's very stretchy. It's awesome that you have that many readers but especially regular commenters. 🖤 They are the best. Whatever comparison you're making to other writers, is it really comparable?

Probably not. Example: Should I compare my dad's best friend (dbf) stories to other writers' dbfs? In Silence can never be bought, Joel fucks your stepmother in the first chapter and you try to blackmail him.  Left in Lincoln is an erotic horror story that’s given people nightmares and recovered repressed memories (but Joel is so sweet with you). I can't expect the same pool of readers as dbfs where the primary conflict is age gap, corruption kink, or will-the-dad-find-out. Shoutout to my dbf readers, i love you badasses.

If it is very comparable, like if you can’t think of anything that differentiates yours from others on the surface: Does it need to be more clear what's unique about yours so people don’t feel like they’re going to be reading the same thing? 

I guess my tips would be to keep engaging with readers and write what you really, really want without regard to trends or whether people will like it—stuff you want to see come to life for its own sake. Hopefully that provides another source of motivation.  And that can make it even more exciting when people connect with your story.

A little more on this here (a similar ask)

Thank you for reading my blog!! I hope you find motivation to keep writing.

p.s. I'm gonna put this topic in my FAQs. i rarely answer serious asks, so please don't take offense if I don't answer yours, i do read and care.

[yuukinoryuu]

Tag game time: conóceme/get to know me! (ESP/ENG)🌻

Thanks for the tag @theotomemaiden and @raburabusama! 💗

🌸 Español

1. ¿Cómo prefieres que te llamen?

Yuu, Yuuki 👀

2. ¿Cuándo es tu cumpleaños? 

Noviembre!

3. ¿Dónde vives? (No tienes que decir la ciudad, puedes decir el estado si eres de EEUU o tu país si eres del extranjero)

España!

4. ¿Tres cosas que estés haciendo ahora mismo? 

Exámenes, volver a ver BNHA por tercera vez y jugar al Rocket League 🎮

5. ¿Cuatro fandoms en los que estés más interesado/a ahora mismo?

Suelo ir variando, pero creo que los que más me interesan ahora mismo son Boku no Hero Academia, Diabolik Lovers, Kimetsu no yaiba y Given!

6. ¿Cómo te ha afectado la pandemia?

Las cosas en España han sido bastante alarmantes, la falta de medidas inmediatas ha tenido consecuencias realmente trágicas. Afortunadamente, nadie en mi familia ha sido afectado por el virus de manera grave. 

Soy una persona bastante hogareña así que la cuarentena en mi caso no ha sido para tanto, pero también es cierto que ya van dos meses y creo que necesito ver la luz del sol o a este paso me convertiré en vampiro xD. 

7. ¿Una canción que no puedas dejar de escuchar ahora mismo?

‘More & More’ de Twice!

8. Recomienda una película.

Spider-Man (2002)

9. ¿Cuántos años tienes?

23

10. ¿Escuela, universidad, ocupación u otros? 

Soy universitaria y ahora mismo me estoy especializando en Japón! 

11. ¿Prefieres frío o calor? 

Definitivamente, frío! Odio el calor porque sudar me hace sentir muy incómoda y a veces un ventilador no es suficiente! A no ser que tengas aire acondicionado en casa xD. Si tienes frío, todo lo que tienes que hacer es meterte debajo de las sábanas y beber té, y estarás calentito y a gusto! Aunque prefiero la ropa de verano, así en general 👀

12. Cuenta algo de ti que otros puedan encontrar inusual. 

Empecé a montar a caballo cuando tenía 15 años y tengo un caballo llamado ‘Mapache’. Desgraciadamente, no tengo tanto tiempo como antes así que no lo hago a menudo ahora D: 

13. ¿Eres tímido/a? 

Soy bastante tímida en persona, pero hoy en día lo soy menos que cuando era más joven. Puedo tener una conversación normal y cómoda sin problema xD. 

14. ¿Hay pronombres que prefieras? 

Ella! 

15. ¿Mayor manía? 

Estoy un poco obsesionada con el orden y a veces soy un poco maniática de la limpieza así que xD. También me molesta un poco la gente que come con la boca abierta (de manera muy exagerada, digo xD), nada personal, es sólo que los sonidos y ver la comida 🤣

16. ¿Cuál es tu tipo favorito de ‘dere’?

Probablemente deredere y tsundere :D y los chicos yandere

17. Puntúa tu vida del 1-10, siendo 1 horrible y 10 lo mejor que podría ser. 

Hmm, es un poco difícil responder a esto porque hay momentos donde estás mejor y momentos donde estás peor, pero quizás 8 o 9? 🤔 Tengo mis momentos de bajón como todo el mundo, pero con saber que viendo anime, escuchando música o jugando a videojuegos puedo animarme, soy feliz! 😁

18. ¿Cuál es tu blog principal?

Éste!

19. Haz una lista de tus otros blogs y para qué los usas. 

De momento no tengo ninguno, pero estoy planeando crearme otra cuenta para otros fandoms que no sean Diabolik Lovers! 

20. ¿Hay algo que creas que la gente debe saber antes de hacerse amigo/a tuyo/a? 

Creo que soy, o por lo menos intento ser, una persona abierta y tolerante! Me gusta debatir sobre temas interesantes incluso aunque no esté de acuerdo con el punto de vista de la otra persona, porque creo que podemos aprender mucho unos de otros :D También soy bastante tranquila y pacífica! Hablando en general, no me gusta nada la presión o las prisas así que normalmente me tomo mi tiempo para hacer las cosas (lo cual a veces me da algún problema que otro xD). 

También intento escuchar a la gente, me gusta intentar ayudar si puedo hacer algo! :D Aunque a veces soy un poco cabezota 🤣

Bueno, al final todos somos una mezcla de ‘cosas buenas y malas’ así que lo más importante es no dejar nunca de aprender; nos equivocaremos muchas veces y no pasa nada así que, carpe diem! 🌻

🌸 English

1. What do you prefer to be called name wise?

Yuu, Yuuki 👀

2. When is you birthday?

November! 

3. Where do you live? (You don’t have to give city, you can give the state if your USA or country if you are overseas):

Spain! 

4. Three things you are doing right now?

Exams, rewatching BNHA for the third time and playing Rocket League 🎮

5. Four Fandoms that have your peak interest right now?

I’m usually into a lot, but I think those that interest me the most right now would be Boku no Hero Academia, Diabolik Lovers, Kimetsu no yaiba and Given! 

6. How has this pandemic been treating you?

Things in Spain have been pretty alarming, the lack of quick measures has had really tragic consequences. Fortunately, anyone of my family has been affected seriously by the virus. 

I'm a home-living person so the quarantine is not that big of a deal to me, but it’s true that it’s been more than two months already and I think I need to see the sun or I’m going to become a vampire at this rate xD. 

7. A song you can’t stop listening to right now?

‘More & More’ by Twice! 

8. Recommend a movie.

Spider-Man (2002) 

9. How old are you?

23

10. School, University, Occupation, Other?

I’m an university student, and I’m currently specialising in Japan! 

11. Do you prefer heat or cold?

Definitely, cold! I hate heat because sweating makes me feel so uncomfortable and sometimes a fan isn’t enough! Unless you have air conditioning home xD. If you’re cold all you have to do is get under the blankets and drink tea and you feel warm and cozy! I prefer summer clothes though 👀

12. Name one fact about you that others may find unusual.

I started to do horseriding when I was 15 years old and I have a horse called ‘Mapache’ (which means ‘raccoon’). Sadly, I can’t do it that often now D: 

13. Are you shy?

I’m pretty shy in person, but nowadays I’m much less shier than when I was younger, I can handle a normal and comfortable conversation without problem xD

14. Do you have preferred pronouns?

She/her! 

15. Biggest pet peeve?

I’m a bit obssessed with order and sometimes I’m a bit of a cleanliness freak so yeah xD. Also, people who eat with their mouths opened, anything personal, but seeing the food and the sounds, I just can’t 🤣

16. What is your fave ‘dere’ type?

Probably deredere and tsundere :D and yandere boys

17. Rate your life 1-10, 1 being really crappy and 10 being best it could ever be.

Hmm, it’s a bit difficult to answer this because there are good and bad moments in life, but maybe 8 or 9? 🤔 I have my slump moments too like everyone, but knowing that watching anime, listening to music and playing videogames I can cheer up, I’m happy! 😁

18. What is your main blog?

This one! 

19. List your side blogs and what they are used for.

I don’t have at the moment but I’m planning to create another account for other fandoms that aren’t Diabolik Lovers! 

20. Is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

I think I am, or at least try to be, an open and tolerant person! I like debating about interesting issues even if I disagree with the other point of view, because I think we can learn a lot from that :D I’m also  a really calm and peaceful person! Talking in general, I don’t like pressure or being in a hurry so I usually take my time to do things (which sometimes gets me some trouble xD). 

I also try to be a good listener, I like trying to help people if I can do something! :D Buut sometimes I’m a bit stubborn too 🤣

Well, in the end we’re all a mix of ‘good and bad things’ so what matters the most is that we never stop learning and know that we’ll make a lot of mistakes in our lifes and that’s okay so carpe diem! 🌻

Como estoy es algo más personal, me da vergüencita taguear a la gente 😳 Pero si a alguien le apetece hacerlo, le animo a ello! 

[genesisofourlives]

Week #56 Retrospective

Dark Force (known in the general franchise as Dark Falz) is the physical embodiment of evil, of the dark weaknesses in people’s hearts. A thousand years ago, he possessed King Lassic, turning the once benevolent ruler of the Algo system into a ruthless tyrant which needed to be defeated by Alis and her party. In future games, it will continue to torment the Algo system in its single-minded goal to destroy it. Its presence in the satellite where Mother Brain operates indicates that the utopia that Mother Brain created where humans grew lazy from everything being done for them is just as terrible an evil as Lassic’s tyrantical martial law.

Which probably explains why, as a boss, it’s a complete asshole.

Seriously, I’ve grinded how many hours and this fight seems so brutally unfair, even at the suggested level due to the fact I have Kain and not Anna. It has precisely two moves, which it does only after Rolf moves each turn:

A massive attack that hits everyone for so much, they all die in two hits, three if I’m lucky.

Turns one party member evil, making them completely useless at best until the Neisword activates on its own to purify them - which, given it activated maybe four times at most in at least a dozen attempts, is effectively never. And he always does it in the same order, always starting with the freakin’ healer.

Plus there’s a boss after him. Thank god there’s no point of no return so I can fall back to Dezo. (Still sucks royally that the Neisword can only take you back to the Esper Mansion from Noah instead of anywhere for some reason, nor can you activate the purifying effect manually by using it as an item in battle. God, this is just a mess of terrible design decisions.)

Clearly I need a new plan. I kept Kain because the last boss is, as you might guess, Mother Brain. But to get that far, I may need to bring the third Nei weapon, the Neislasher, to bare. Which means I need to pick up and grind Anna up to catch her up.

I don’t think I even used her since before Climatrol. It might take even two streams to get her up to gear. I really don’t want to keep the game going for that long just for grind after grind after grind. So training Anna up for the Dark Force fight is plan B.

Plan A is to swap Amy and Josh’s positions in the party and see if Dark Force’s evil targeting is a matter of party position rather than characters themselves and delay the healer getting possessed. Heck, since his damaging attack always hits the entire party and like never misses, it might not even matter who’s in the front two slots. I’ll have to experiment.

(Looking up a video playthrough, it might not be even that. Dark Force apparently counts as a robotic enemy, alllowing Josh’s techniques to target it, and they had Rolf hold both Star Mists - since Rolf is always the last to be turned, this lets him use Megid twice then handle the main bulk of the healing himself with no interruption. It might be better to keep rolling the Neisword dice with the plan I saw in that video than the audacious task of bringing Anna up to speed. It apparently took the uploaded a half-hour.)

Either way, we’re a stone’s throw away from the end. I have avoided looking up the ending in full, and every walkthrough stops after Mother Brain’s defeat - for a good reason. You earn this ending.

[dpdanielpinheiro]

Lords, hoje o convidado da rubrica #gettoknow, é um grande criador de conteúdos, que na minha opinião vai longe! O Bruno Lexim, de 28 anos, é gerente de Loja e reside em Lisboa, mas tem um feed inoperacional!  De reforçar que o Lexim já foi mencionado aqui por outros criadores de conteúdos como referencia nacional, e eu inclusive o coloco como uma referência minha! Estão curiosos? 

Lords, today the guest of the #gettoknow rubric, is a great content creator, which in my opinion goes far! Bruno Lexim, 28, is a store manager and lives in Lisbon, but has an inoperable feed! To reinforce that Lexim has already been mentioned here by other content creators as a national reference, and I even put it as a reference of mine! Are you curious?

  1. Como tudo isto começou, e de onde surgiu a ideia de te tornares um criador de conteúdo? | How this all started? And from where you hot the idea of turning into a Content Creator?

Lexim – Tudo começou com o gosto que tenho por fotografia e por moda e achei que poderia juntar o útil ao agradável e passar essas duas vertentes para objectiva da máquina!

Lexim – It all started with my taste in photography and fashion and I thought I could combine the useful with the pleasant and transfer these two aspects to the camera lens!

2. Quais foram / são as tuas influências nacionais e internacionais para a inspiração? Seja em estilo como em criação de conteúdo. | Which were / are your national and international influences for content creation? 

Lexim – Uma pessoa que provavelmente teve alguma importância nesta caminhada, Gonçalo Santos. Influências internacionais, diria 3 distintos: 

Johnny Edlind pela criatividade em cada foto que pública, surpreende sempre! Toni Mahfud pela originalidade na edição! Carlos Dominguez pela excelente escolha de combinações em cada look onde todos os detalhes contam.

Lexim – A person who probably had some importance in this journey, Gonçalo Santos. International influences, I would say 3 distinct:

Johnny Edlind for the creativity in every photo he publicizes, always surprises! Toni Mahfud for the originality of the edition! Carlos Dominguez for the excellent choice of combinations in each look where every detail counts.

3. Qual o teu estilo de eleição? Tendes mais para o clássico, ou gostas de tudo? | What is ‘go to’ style? You go more for the classics, or you like everything?  

Lexim – A versatilidade de roupas que uso, faz com que não tenha um estilo definido, tenho o meu estilo próprio e tento sempre procurar a originalidade, se acordar de manhã e me apetecer usar roupa oversized, uso. Se na manhã seguinte me apetecer usar um fato cruzado com camisa e gravata, uso. A minha profissão e gosto, ajuda-me bastante nessa vertente. 

Lexim – The versatility of the clothes I wear means that I don’t have a defined style, I have my own style and I always try to look for originality, if I wake up in the morning and feel like wearing oversized clothes, I do. If I feel like wearing a crossed suit with a shirt and tie the next morning, I will. My profession and taste help me a lot in this regard.

4. Qual é para ti a maior dificuldade em criar conteúdo? E já agora, qual a maior facilidade? | What is your biggest difficultie on creatin content? And also, the easiest thing? 

Lexim – Sou uma pessoa que facilmente faz uma auto-avaliação, mas neste caso, dificuldade não sinto nenhuma. Facilidade tenho alguma, tendo em conta que sempre gostei de fotografia e de moda, sempre tive jeito para tirar fotografias também, tendo noções de ângulos, poses e perspectivas que façam a diferença numa foto. 

Lexim – I am a person who easily makes a self-assessment, but in this case, I have no difficulty. I have some ease, taking into account that I always liked photography and fashion, I always had a knack for taking photographs too, having notions of angles, poses, and perspectives that make a difference in a photo.

  O que mais tento fazer, é não cometer erros. 

5. Para este trabalho o que consideras fundamental? E quais os erros que tentas não cometer? | For this this work, what is for you fundamental? And what kinda mistakes you are trying not to make? 

Lexim – Três coisas essenciais que temos de ter neste tipo de criação de conteúdo: gosto, criatividade, tempo.  O que mais tento fazer, é não cometer erros. Pelo menos tentei, e é assim é que as pessoas aprendem!

Lexim – Three essential things we need to have in this type of content creation: taste, creativity, time. What I try to do most is not to make mistakes. At least I tried, and that’s how people learn!

6. Tens aspirações de fazer disto a tua vida? Ou olhas apenas para isto como um part-time? | Do you have any intentions of doing this as your job? Or you just look at it as a Part-time? 

Lexim – De momento não, considero isto um gosto, ou até mesmo um Hobbie por assim dizer. 

Lexim – Not at the moment, I consider this a pleasure, or even a hobby, so to speak.

7. Como descreverias o mundo do Instagram neste momento? No que diz respeito ao conteúdo que vais observando. | How would you describe the IG game nowadays? In terms of the content that you see!

Lexim – É uma aprendizagem … vês de tudo, consistência, competitividade, originalidade, versatilidade, entrega, dedicação, preocupação, tudo. É um mundo muito competitivo, daí me esforçar sempre para atingir os melhores resultados, tentando assim, distinguir-me do resto. Não é fácil, mas estamos cá para a luta!

Lexim – It is a learning experience … you see everything, consistency, competitiveness, originality, versatility, delivery, dedication, concern, everything. It is a very competitive world, so I always strive to achieve the best results, trying to distinguish myself from the rest. It is not easy, but we are here for the fight!

8. Qual a tua função como criador de conteúdo? Influenciar? Inspirar? Dar aos seguidores o que eles querem ver? Porque? | What is your Goal as a content creator? Influenciate? Inspire? Giving your followrs whatever they want to see? 

Lexim – A minha função é mostrar que tudo é possível, e inspirar de certa forma, é gratificante quando recebo esse tipo de mensagens apoiando o meu conteúdo e fazendo com que as pessoas sigam o meu trabalho. 

Lexim – My job is to show that everything is possible and to inspire in a way, it is rewarding when I receive these types of messages supporting my content and making people follow my work.

  Fazer parceria para encher CV, comigo isso não resulta 

9. Quando se trata de patrocínios, quais são os teus critérios para aceitar uma parceria? Existe algum conteúdo que não farias? | When it comes to sponsors, which are your criteria to accpet that sponsor? Is there any content that you would not do? 

Lexim – Para aceitar uma parceria tem de ser algo com que me identifique, não fez sentido para mim fazer uma parceria de algo que não gosto ou que estou contra, só por ser uma parceria e encher “CV”. Isso comigo não resulta. E quando aceito a parceria tento sempre fotografar de modo a que ambos saiam a ganhar, tanto a marca com o destaque do produto, como eu, de modo a criar uma ambiente continuo no meu feed.

Lexim – To accept a partnership it has to be something that I identify with, it didn’t make sense for me to make a partnership of something that I don’t like or that I’m against just because it is a partnership and filling up “CV”. That doesn’t work for me. And when I accept the partnership I always try to photograph so that both will win, both the brand with the highlight of the product, and me, in order to create a continuous environment in my feed.

10. És um dos criadores de conteúdos que sigo, que mais prazer me dá, pois vejo sempre um contteúdo de muita qualidade. És pessoa de estar atento às estatísticas e fazer o melhor para obter números, ou preferes fazer a tua maneira (como eu), mesmo que não te traga números? | You are one of the content creators that i follow, that i like to watch the most, because i always see so much quality! You are a stats person, trying to do the best to come up with numbers, or you prefer to do o your own way ( like me ), even if that don`t bring you numbers? 

Lexim – Desde já agradeço as tuas palavras e é bom obter esse feedback, sempre. Estatísticas? Nem vê-las … Acho que até hoje não abri as estatísticas do meu IG uma única vez, nem pretendo fazê-lo de modo a obter mais seguidores ou whatever, faço o que faço porque gosto, os número são só isso, números.

Lexim –I thank you for your words and it is good to get this feedback, always. Statistics? Not even seeing them… I think that until today I haven’t opened my IG statistics once, nor do I intend to do it in order to get more followers or whatever, I do what I do because I like it, the numbers are just that, numbers.

11. Descreve-me o Bruno Lexim em 3 palavras! | Descrive me yourself in 3 Words!

Lexim – Humilde, Respeitador, Extrovertido. 

Lexim – Humble, Respectful, extrovert.

  Espero que tenham gostado de Conhecer o Bruno Lexim um pouco melhor! Deixem a vossa opinião nos comentários!  Em breve sairá outra rubrica, por isso fiquem atentos! 

I hope you like, to get to know better Bruno Lexim! Leave me your opinion on the comment box!  Soon will come out another article, so keep tuned for that!

  [callaction button_text=”Follow” button_url=”https://www.instagram.com/brunolexim/” background_color=”#333333″ text_color=”#ffffff” button_background_color=”#b5b5b5″ button_text_color=”#ffffff” rounded=”true”]

Bruno Lexim

[/callaction]

#gettoknow  | Quantas vezes o Bruno vê as stats? Lords, hoje o convidado da rubrica #gettoknow, é um grande criador de conteúdos, que na minha opinião vai longe!

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Home - Wave Pt. 6

*Peter Parker x Reader

*Summary: After fighting for months, the reader finally finds her way back home before having to leave again.

*Warnings: Swearing, Spanish

*A/N: I saw Spider-Man: Homecoming and suddenly got energy to write this again. And after six parts, Peter finally makes an appearance! Seriously this one is so long just so I could get to the Peter part.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine

“¿Disculpe? ¿Señora? ¿Está todo bien?” You heard a man ask as you emerged from the water. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw a young man and woman standing there by the fountain, somewhat hesitant. Your mind was immediately drawn back to the little Spanish you knew from high school and family parties.

“Sí, estoy bien,” you stuttered, searching for the right words. Translating English to Spanish on the spot always threw you off, but you needed to know where you were. “Perdón, ¿en qué ciudad estamos en?”

“Estamos en Juarez,” the woman replied, reaching out her hand to help you out of the fountain. You graciously took it, muttering a thank you as you mentally tried to picture where Juarez was. You had family from right by the California border and deep Mexico, and you faintly remembered Juarez from something, but you weren’t sure. “¿Necesitas ayuda?” the woman asked.

“Sí, uh,” you fumbled, trying to think of the right words as you sat on the edge of the fountain. The two shared a look as they saw you struggle before the man spoke up.

“¿Hablas ingles? También hablamos ingles,” he offered.

“Yes, yes, thank you!” You perked up, grateful. “Sorry, I just kind of blanked out on all the Spanish I know.”

“It’s alright,” the woman laughed. “I’m Camila, this is my brother Fernando. Why’d you fall from the sky?”

“I was trying to get out of America and my powers just kind of failed,” you explained, looking at your hands. Your exhaustion was finally catching up to you, and you knew it was probably what was affecting your powers. Well, that and months of disuse. “Where are we?”

“Ciudad Juarez, right on the Texas border,” Fernando told you. “Who are you?”

“Right, sorry, I’m (y/n),” you replied. You yawned slightly, covering your mouth as you did. Camila shared another look with Fernando, obviously trying to communicate something. Fernando sighed as he nodded, giving Camila the confirmation she needed.

“You look tired. C’mon, our tias run a cafe out of our house. We’ll get you some food and a place to sleep,” Camila offered.

“That would be amazing,” you said softly. You knew people were genuinely nice in villas, just based on the times you’d visited your mom’s family. Camila motioned for you to follow her and Fernando through the city, leaving the square and going into a more residential area. It was only a few minutes before you reached a house with a line going through the front door. A few people recognized Camila and Fernando, calling out greeting and talking briefly with them as you made your way into the house. Camila motioned for Fernando to go to the kitchen while she led you down a small hallway, into what you assumed was her room.

“Fernando is getting you algo a comer. There’s a shower across the hall and I have some clothes you can borrow,” Camila said, going through her drawers and tossing you a shirt and shorts. “We look about the same size.” After she gave you the clothes, she led you to the bathroom, instructing you to get cleaned up and dressed. You did as she said, emerging from the bathroom refreshed and not smelling like a fountain. You walked back across the hall, hearing hushed whispers. “Pienso que ella es Wave, necesitamos a ayudar.”

“¿Y que? ¿Lograr los Estados Unidos después de nosotros? No podemos ayudarse,” Fernando shot back in rapid fire Spanish.

“Pero es lo correcto,” Camila argued. You understood enough to know that Camila wanted to help, but Fernando thought it was too much of a risk. You couldn’t argue with him there; you did have the U.S. government after you. You decided to make your presence known, walking into the room.

“Hey, guys, really, thank you for what you’ve already done for me,” you said, trying not to impose too much. “I’m probably just gonna go and see what I can do to get back to the States.”

“No, you can stay here for the night,” Camila offered. “We’ll leave you alone for now, but there’s food right there.” With that, she dragged Fernando past you and out of the room, leaving you on your own. You could hear his protests as she closed the door, giving you some privacy. You found a small plate of food on the dresser and a licuado, immediately making you a bit homesick. You wondered what they told your family when you disappeared, what narrative they had created. You knew you had to get back to L.A. somehow. You took the runner’s GPS out of the bag, seeing that you’d gone way off course when you flew over here.

After you ate the food they had left for you, you began running through different plans. You knew you had family in Mexicali, but you didn’t know how you’d get back into the States nor how far it was. You guessed you’d be about a day or so away. You knew there were cartel tunnels in Juarez, but you didn’t know how you’d get to them. You also knew Tijuana had over 300 different tunnels, and you’d be far closer to L.A. than you were now. You planned to get to Mexicali, stay there for a few days so your primos could call your family and let them know you were safe, and then find your way to Tijuana. From Tijuana, you’d be able to use the tunnels and be somewhere near San Diego, only two hours from home. Content with your plan, you finally let yourself drift off, getting some much needed sleep.

When you woke up, you saw Camila putting your clothes back in your bag. You sat up, already feeling much better than before. “Hey, do you know how far we are from Mexicali?” You asked, startling her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“We’re maybe half a day away. Why?” Camila asked, putting your bag down.

“I have family out there,” you explained. “I don’t want to put you guys in danger for helping me here.” You didn’t want to reveal your plan, not when any information on your location could incriminate them. “Do you know how I can get out there?”

“Our neighbor brings cows and animals out there, he leaves tomorrow morning. I can try to get you a ride with them,” Camila offered. “He’s a nice man.”

“Even if he can just get me halfway there, it’d be more than I could ever thank you for,” you replied.

“It’s nothing. We need heroes like you,” she said, turning to leave the room. “I’ll ask him today, he normally leaves early in the morning to get there by the afternoon. I’ll tell you when he’s leaving.”

Before you knew it, you were in the back of a cattle truck with about six cows. Camila had managed to convince her neighbor to smuggle you, packing your bag with more food and a few more clothes. You thanked her profusely, knowing you’d have to come back at some point to repay her kindness. The truck left before dawn, beginning the journey.

Traveling was a nice enough thing, especially since the cows kind of just left you alone. The hours flew by, your time spent either eating, sleeping, or going through the items in your bag. The driver stopped a few times for fuel and food, and before you knew it, you were on the outskirts of Mexicali while he delivered the dairy cows. You made your way into the city, navigating the familiar roads. You’d been to the city many times over the years with your parents, and soon you were approaching your family’s street. When you knocked on the door, one of your tias screamed in surprise, rushing you into the house while calling your cousins.

Your cousins managed to get your tias to stop fussing over you, leading you to one of their rooms as they tried to get ahold of your parents. You told them almost everything, knowing they’d be able to keep the secret from your other family members. It wasn’t exactly well known in the family that you even had powers. “They picked up!” one of your primos yelled out, making you get up and run to the phone.

“Mom? Dad?” You asked, slightly out of breath.

“(y/n)? Is that you?” your mom asked, sounding like she was about to cry. “Where have you been?”

“They got me when I was helping, mom. They moved me from some hospital to a random house in some small city. I got out and now I’m in Mexico,” you quickly explained. “I’m going to Tijuana tomorrow and I’ll get to LA from there.”

“How do you expect to get from Tijuana to LA?” Your dad asked.

“Remember that one movie we watched about the cartel tunnels?” You asked, waiting for him to make the connection.

“No, that’s too dangerous,” your dad replied. “We’ll call one of your tios, see if they can get you across.”

“That’s not only smuggling, but harboring a fugitive,” you said, keeping your voice low to prevent your nosy aunts from hearing. “Do you really want to risk them getting caught?” You could vaguely hear your mom crying in the background, leaving you more confused than ever. “Why’s mom crying?”

“She thought you were dead, that’s what they told us,” your dad said. Your blood boiled with rage when you heard that. So that was how they were playing? Making your family mourn you when you were very much alive? “We’re just glad you’re safe. We’ll see you soon.”

“I love you guys,” you said, hanging up. You turned from the phone, expecting to see your tias standing there, listening in, but instead you saw a group of your cousins. “¿Que están haciendo?”

“So you’re going back a los Estados?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, I need to,” you told them. “America is getting screwed right now and I need to help stop that.”

“Wait until our moms hear you’re not staying for long,” another one said, rolling her eyes. “They’re gonna try feeding you everything in the house before you leave.”

“Trust me, I know,” you laughed. “Hey, can any of you drive me to Tijuana tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” a third cousin said, this one around your age. “You’re gonna fuck with the cartels, aren’t you?”

“Just a little, if they don’t let me use their tunnels,” you said, shrugging. Your cousins laughed, taking you back into the room as they questioned you about all the crazy things they heard were going on across the border. You all joked around before you got called for dinner, finally making you feel somewhat normal again. You silently regretted that you’d be leaving so soon.

“Oye, puta, wake up,” your prima said, shoving you slightly. “We gotta go before my mom notices we left.”

“What time is it?” you asked, rubbing your eyes as you woke up.

“A little past three,” she replied. “Ma doesn’t work today and Papá doesn’t leave until seven. It’s just enough time to get you to Tijuana and back before they’re awake.” You nodded, getting up and grabbing your bag. Once again, your family had filled the bag with food, seeing that you had enough clothes. Your prima drove you to Tijuana, getting you there half an hour earlier than it normally took. You stood waving as she took off, trying to get back to her house before her dad would need the car.

You walked through the city, trying to figure out a way to find the tunnels. The second you saw a group of guys with heavily armored trucks with tarp over the beds, you knew you found your guys. “Oye, hombres, necesito ayudar,” you called to them as you walked up.

“¿Qué necesitas?” One of them asked, eyeing your form before looking back at you.

“Necesito cruzar la frontera. ¿Puede ayudar con eso?” you asked, holding your ground.

“Posiblemente. ¿Tienes dinero para pagar?” he questioned you.

“No, pero tengo eso,” you said, holding out your hand and producing a flame. It was definitely the exhaustion that had been screwing with your powers. “Y no quiero a usar eso. Ustedes van a ayudame utilizar los túneles. ¿Preguntas?”

“No, nada,” the man said, gulping slightly. “Vamos en una hora, los otros necesitan a llegar.” You nodded, smiling. It was always nice to be able to scare bad dudes into doing your bidding. Admittedly, you knew they were also smuggling drugs across the border, but you let that go just this once so you could get back into the States. By the time the others got there, dawn was fast approaching. They began driving off into the desert, soon approaching the tunnels. You knew these worked, they were part of the reason why it was so difficult to catch people smuggling drugs.

Once you got into San Diego, everything was smooth sailing from there. You threw on a hoodie, sunglasses, and a baseball cap to keep your face hidden from anyone else. After you found a bus that ran from San Diego to LA, you were on your way back home. You called your parents again from a payphone in the bus station, letting them know you made it across the border and were headed their way. The only thing you needed to figure out now was how to break it to them that you were headed out to New York as soon as possible. The only people that could really help you were in New York.

A couple hours later, you exited the bus into the depot in Los Angeles. It was nice to be home, but you needed to focus on getting home. With your mind so preoccupied, you crossed the street without looking, startled by the long horn of a truck. You were frozen, staring at the truck, but before you could do anything to dive out of the way, you were picked up and taken to a nearby rooftop. You finally looked at who had saved you, heart almost beating out of your chest as you saw the familiar red and blue suit. “Peter, it’s so good to see you,” you said, hugging him.

“What?” Peter asked, not recognizing you at first. You released him from the hug and pulled off the hat and sunglasses, making it easier for him. “(Y/n)? I thought you disappeared.”

“I’ll tell you about that later. What happened? Why are you in LA?” You questioned, trying to get any information.

“Mr. Stark sent me here, he tracked a Hydra delivery coming in,” Peter told you. “I was gonna drop by your place later to see what happened to you. I already finished what Mr. Stark asked, but I still have the day in LA.”

“You’re headed back to New York?” You asked, perking up.

“Yeah, of course,” Peter said. “Why?”

“I need a ride out there. You get sent on a quinjet?” You asked. Peter nodded. “Great, I just need to talk to my parents and I’ll text you about leaving with you. Mind giving me a ride to the ground?”

“I still need that story,” he told you, picking you up and bringing you back down to the sidewalk. You quickly put your hat and glasses back on, looking around for any bus stations to take you closer to your apartment.

When you finally got home, you burst through the door, just wanting to see your parents again. You had been gone for almost a year, and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed them until now. “Mom? Dad?” you called out, somewhat hesitant as you opened the unlocked door. There were your parents, sitting on the couch, waiting for you. As soon as you walked in, your mom stood and paused, as if she couldn’t believe it was really you. Once it registered, both of your parents wrapped you in a hug, tears flowing freely.

“I can’t believe you’re finally home,” you mom said, releasing you but leading you to sit on the couch at the same time. “We’ve kept your room the same, all your things are still he-”

“Mom, I’m not staying,” you told her, somewhat sadly. You hated the look on her face as she seemed to deflate.

“What? Why not?” She asked.

“It’s not safe for me to be here while I’m on the run. I’m going off to New York, there are people that can help me there,” you explained. “Once I expose everything that’s going on, I’ll get on the first plane back home.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” your mom pleaded. “You don’t have to do this on your own.”

“I’m not worried about my safety! I’m worried about you and dad! What’ll happen to you guys if they find out you’re hiding your mutant, unregistered hero, fugitive daughter?” You argued. “Please, it’s already hard enough.”

“She’s right, you know,” your dad spoke up. “If she knows people in New York that can help her, then they’re probably more ready than we could ever be.”

“I just need to grab some stuff,” you told them, taking off the backpack. “The tias sent some food for you guys, by the way.” You handed them the plastic containers your prima had stuffed in your bag. You watched as they inspected the different foods you brought before going into your room. You grabbed a few changes of clothes and undergarments, your old Wave suit, and a few personal mementos before walking back out of your room.

You were slightly surprised when your dad strode up to you and held you tightly. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You’re doing so much. Just come home to us when you can, alright?”

“First chance I get, I’m coming home,” you told him, unshed tears beginning to glaze your eyes once again. You had escaped, you were home, but just as soon as you made it, you needed to leave once again. You hugged both of your parents tight, giving them another tearful goodbye as you left your apartment for the last time. As soon as you were a safe enough distance away from the building, you pulled out your phone, dialing Peter’s number. “Hey, Pete, I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

Tag List: @potterjamesharry, @sharenaloveyoux

[madminniefics]

can’t pretend anymore

grace left mississippi for a reason. she just wants to be left alone. niall is spending the summer traveling through spain searching for the perfect wave and, instead, finds grace. liam has chosen this moment to pop back up in grace's life. she doesn't want any of it.

a surfer niall / expat grace / tech billionaire ex liam nsfw one shot

Grace spent her whole life running.

Running from her family, running from her dead-end job at the mall selling phone cases in a kiosk, running from her past and future lovers, running from the existential dread that seemed to follow her everywhere, running from the small town in Mississippi that reminded her of fried food, heart attacks, and racism. But no matter how far she ran, there was no getting away from herself.

She’d run to Spain five years ago—to live in a big European city, eat fruit, drink wine, and be left the hell alone—and ended up in a small town outside Valencia where everyone knew everyone’s business. Ain’t that some shit? If she wanted everyone to be all in her shit, she would’ve stayed in Oxford, home of William Faulkner and little old ladies who went to church on Sunday’s and talked shit about their neighbors the rest of the week.

That’s why she left. Or, that’s what she told people. That she couldn’t handle the hypocrites. She couldn’t stand the way they smiled to your face as they plotted against you behind your back. That’s why she quit church in middle school. That and the frilly dresses her momma insisted on putting her in.

The waitress placed a carafe of orange juice and a bottle of champagne on Grace’s table. She was tucked away in the back corner of her favorite café. A window behind her seat overlooked the café’s tiny garden that consisted of two orange trees, three olive trees, and a rosemary bush. The owner, Mateo, reserved the table for her every Saturday. No matter if there was a line outside, that table was always saved for Grace. As a thank you for helping him find a new chef. Grace thought he may be harboring a crush on her, too. They were cool as long as he didn’t act on it.

“Gracias, Marta,” Grace said with a smile as the waitress opened the bottle of champagne for her.

“Claro. Vas a comer lo mismo o algo nuevo?”

Grace looked down at the menu. She always had the same thing for brunch, despite Mateo and Marta urging her to try something new. She loved the churros and chocolate at their little café. It was the best she’d had during her time in Spain.

“Um,” She looked at the menu and back up to Marta. “Dame el menu.”

Marta’s eyes brightened and she nodded and walked into the back to yell at Mateo and Andres, the chef, that ‘La Grace’ was finally trying something new. Grace didn’t even know what the chef special was for that day but she trusted Andres. As long as it was cooked, she would eat it.

Shit. Sometimes if it wasn’t cooked she would eat it. 14-year old Grace would pretend to gag and refuse to eat but 28-year old Grace knew that sometimes you gotta eat what’s in front of you. She tilted her head trying to think if that was deep or just sounded deep. It could be a metaphor for life. Like sometimes you just gotta do things you don’t want to do. She scrunched her nose and poured less than half a glass of orange juice before topping it off with champagne.

After concluding that, no, it wasn’t deep, she took a gulp of her drink before opening her book. It was a collection of poetry, in Spanish, by a local artist. Most of the poems were about love, which Grace couldn’t—or, more accurately, didn’t want to—relate to, but they were beautiful pieces. She continued to read until her food came out. By then she’d already run through two mimosas.

Marta brought three plates and Mateo brought out three more plates. Grace’s mouth watered as the first plate of olives, jamon iberico, bread, and a cheese selection was placed in front of her. Fried quail eggs and sliced beef, ham and cheese croquettes, patatas bravas with their special mayo sauce, asparagus wrapped in prosciutto, and clams in a cream sauce were placed on the table as well.

As she ate, she thought about the poems. They were beautiful, she couldn’t deny that. Comparing love to the soft mist after the crest of a wave, to the way the night and the day melted together during a sunset, the purple of clouds in the early morning, the quiet moment before the work day starts, comparing the woman’s white skin to ancient statues carved from marble. And that was her problem, wasn’t it? She’d been raised to believe that women like her—an ‘angry’ black woman from the south whose family barely made it above the poverty line—didn’t find happy endings. In love or in life.

She couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times someone alluded to—or straight up told her, because racists have no shame—her having no future, being a receptacle for children, that she was going to be on welfare her entire life before dying of high blood pressure, high cholesterol, or diabetes. Or a combination of all three. Grace sighed and sliced off a piece of jamon iberico before pairing it with a piece of cheese and placing it atop the garlic bread like a Spanish bruschetta. Fuck them. Because look at her now.

She washed down the anger with a sip of her fourth mimosa. The poems reminded her of why she really left Oxford. Why she quit the United States and North America in general. Her first love. Her only love.

Liam.

Just thinking his name made her choke on her jamon iberico.

***

Once all of the plates were empty—yes, Grace single handedly demolished six plates of food but, to be honest, they were tapas and she was still hungry—and a few euros placed on the table, Grace grabbed her book and walked outside. It was just before noon. She looked to the right, looked to the left, and decided to go that way towards her tiny apartment above a bakery. It always smelled like sugar and chocolate and, in the afternoons, she could hear two older men arguing over their usual coffee and magdalenas.

The thought of the sweet, sugar topped Spanish muffin made Grace hum. It was a nice day and her article about fun things to do with your children in Valencia was done and turned in. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a whole day off.

She switched out of her favorite grey sundress and put a bright blue bandeau and matching swim bottoms on. For the sake of modesty, since her cheeks were coming out of her bottoms—it was either that or her ass crack and, honestly, that was not a good look—she tugged on a pair of short shorts and a thin, almost see through, white tank top. She left the button open on her shorts for the aesthetic before bounding out of her apartment, with her towel, mystery novel, and water bottle in her tote bag, to take the train into the city.

But not before stopping at the bakery to buy a bag of muffins.

***

Grace set up shop a few feet away from a giant sand castle. The beach was crowded—as it usually was during the weekends in the summer—but she managed to find a relatively empty area. There were a few children splashing near the water’s edge, some teenagers playing beach volleyball, and more than a few people sleeping. She set out to rub sunscreen all over—because she wasn’t playing that skin cancer shit—when something caught her eye.

Someone, really.

A blond-haired man and a long-haired brunette with matching blue surfboards. Suddenly, the blond turned his head and seemed to look right at Grace just seconds before he face planted in the sand. Like. Literally fell face first in the sand like he was a mermaid learning how to use his legs for the first time. Her eyes widened and she bit her lips to keep from laughing. Don’t laugh at the tourists, Grace. If they get embarrassed they won’t come back and you will be out of a job.

Grace watched the blond get up with the help of his friend. She watched him wipe his face with the soaked tee shirt he held in his hand. Kind of redundant to wipe your sand-covered face with something that probably had sand on it as well but. Grace figured he knew better than she did.

“Hi,”

Somehow, she missed the blond walking up to her. Probably because of the dark brown hair on his chest that Grace had been eyeing. It led down to a matching patch of hair that disappeared into his swim trunks. So many thoughts ran through her head re: that hair, what it led to, and what she’d like to do to him when she remembered that he spoke.

She raised an eyebrow up at the blond. “Qué?”

Oh, don’t do it to him, Grace. All he said was hi.

But hi led to ‘how are you’ and that led to ‘you’re beautiful’ which led to ‘can I have your number/email/facebook/twitter/linkedin/what’s app’ and that, ultimately, led to the dreaded ‘can I take you out sometime?’ Not that she was opposed to a nice night of wine and dancing. But it was the conversation she could do without. She didn’t even talk to Marta or Mateo like that and she saw them almost every day.

That was the whole point of moving away. Nobody knew her here despite how hard they tried. Grace liked it best that way. It kept her heart intact, her expectations reasonable, and her standards high. No more getting hurt. It was safer, for Grace, and it gave her something to hold onto.

“Oh, perdon, me llamo Niall,” He cleared his throat when his friend looked at him sideways. “Es que te vi esta manana y te queria decir algo pero no sabia que.”

Grace’s eyes widened so much she thought they were just going to roll out of her head. The odds of this man speaking perfect Spanish—accent and all—were slim to none. That was her go-to trick when tourists hit on her. But he was cute and the fact that he admitted to wanting to talk to her but not knowing what to say…fuck if that didn’t hit Grace in her cold, dead heart.

She smirked. “My name’s Grace.”

She hoped that wouldn’t come back to haunt her.

***

She ended up giving Niall her phone number that day at the beach, under strict promise that he wouldn’t try anything with her. After two weeks, he’d progressed from sending funny pictures to sending silly selfies. Grace was alright with that. She was even okay with him asking questions.

As long as he didn’t try to get deep. She was content to stay on that ‘what is your favorite color?’ level with him indefinitely.

Grace sat in her window, finishing an article about a festival in nearby city Alicante, wondering what she should do with her afternoon. There was always the beach, but she’d gone so much the past few weeks that she was tired of washing sand out of all her cracks. She gave her running shoes a sad glance. There was a 10k in a few months that she should be training for but the farmers market sounded like more fun than running in the dusty trails behind the small town. Her empty pantry would agree with her.

Hitting send on her article, she hopped up with more energy than she should have considering she’d stayed up all night to make deadline. That’s what happens when you put too much on your plate. In work and in food.

And, when you’re delirious from lack of sleep and food, you grab your phone and text a stranger to meet you at a farmer’s market. At least, that was Grace’s excuse.

She didn’t know what Niall’s excuse was when he agreed.

***

The first thing Grace noticed at the farmer’s market was the disproportionate amount of people holding hands. It was like all the fucking couples from Riba Roja del Turia came out that day to get their fresh tomatoes, greens, oranges, and churros. It felt like Grace and Niall were the only people not holding hands.

They weren’t gonna, either, so don’t get any ideas.

He cleared his throat and looked down at Grace. She could see him looking at her from the corner of her eye. Barely resisting a giggle, she looked at him with a playful brow raised. She wasn’t flirting. She was just sleep deprived.

(Keep telling yourself that, Grace.)

“What?” She said, smirk on her lips.

He shook his head and looked forward. “You told me, and I quote, ‘no compliments or anything that could be misconstrued as a crush’ so I’m just gonna stay quiet over here.”

She covered her face with her hands and laughed. Grace had grown to love her laugh despite being told her entire life to ‘tone it down,’ ‘be quiet,’ and ‘do you have to laugh so loud?’ She loved that her laugh turned heads. There was some funny shit happening over here and all y’all were missing out with your boring asses.

“Wow what kind of asshole says that to someone,” She said through her laughter.

When she looked up at Niall he was just grinning down at her and shaking his head. From what she’d learned about him over the past week, he was the chillest surfer dude ever. He was spending the summer in Spain with his cousin, Harry. They were originally from Canada. His favorite color was blue and he was always hungry. His words, not Grace’s.

He seemed to be the perfect buddy. He listened to her rules, didn’t try to skirt around them, and he would be gone in a few months. She would never see him again. Biting the inside of her lip, the cogs in Grace’s mind started working.

“Ignore what I said. If you have something to say, say it.” She looked over at him and tried her hardest not to lick her lips. Because he looked good but she wasn’t trying to start anything deep. A friendship, perhaps. She was mulling the pros and cons.

Pros: eye candy, someone to talk to, maybe he’d teach her how to surf

Cons:

She was drawing a blank on cons which made her feel like she was forgetting something. There were truly no downsides to being his friend, really, Grace? Really? Okay. Don’t come crying in a few months when you get your heart broke because that’s what you’re setting yourself up for.

Grace was fixing to argue with herself when Niall turned to her. He blinked and as he smirked his face transformed. Grace felt that smirk in between her thighs. Lord. She would let him do dirty things to her.

Um. Ma’am.

Get some sleep and maybe drink some water with your thirsty ass.

“Alright. I like your shorts,” He said. The gravel in his voice reverberated throughout Grace’s chest. She almost didn’t notice the little tug he gave to her hemline. Just inches from her thigh. If her shorts had been any tighter he would have grazed her skin and she was sure—as sure as the sky is blue, dirt is brown, and ice cream is delicious—that she would have jumped out of her clothes. Right there in the middle of town. “They look cute on you.”

Grace looked at Niall and then looked away as she shook her head. What do you even say to that? Grace could argue with the best of them. She could debate anything, she had been on an award-winning debate team in high school, but she failed at flirting. Like. Capital ‘F’ failure. Because her first instinct was to tell him his shorts looked cute on him, too.

And her second instinct—which is what she ended up going with—was pointing at the churros stand, looking up at him, and asking if he’d share a bag with her.

***

Grace didn’t see Niall for a few weeks after that. She wished she could say it was because she needed some space but, really, it was because he and Harry had taken a road trip to chase some waves. He’d sent her a few pictures of Harry wiping out—a technical surfing term that Niall taught her—and more than a few shirtless selfies.

There was something there. They were trying to ignore it—Grace, especially, because she didn’t need the drama—but she couldn’t ignore the reason why she smiled when Niall texted her or why she gripped her phone up so fast when she got a new message or why she had her ringer on at all when her phone used to be always on silent.

She rubbed a hand over her face and stood up from the small table in her tiny, one room apartment. Not that she couldn’t afford anything bigger. She’d fallen in love with the apartment when she visited. It was the last one her realtor showed her and it overlooked the eastern side of town. She had a view of the orange groves on the outskirts of town.

Grace wasted away her Friday by getting her nails done, taking a bath, washing her hair, and shaving her legs. That was her entire day. She was starting to feel cooped up in her apartment and found that she was just walking back and forth in her living room. Stopping in front of the tv, she decided she needed to go out.

Two hours later she was sitting at the bar at an oceanfront club at the marina in Valencia. Her go-to place was dead. There were a handful of people on the dance floor—not nearly enough for her to be comfortable dancing—but the drinks were good so she stayed.

She sipped her vodka cranberry and watched as the tourists on the dancefloor made a fool of themselves. After a certain amount of drinks anybody would get out and dance even if they knew damn well they had no rhythm. She took a gulp of her drink and looked at the entrance. She was going to leave as soon as she finished her drink.

That’s when she saw him.

Liam. In the flesh, right there, just a few feet away from her in his now-signature black suit and tie. She thought he looked ridiculous. It was almost one hundred degrees. Who wore a suit to a club outside of, like, Hollywood-types?

Grace turned her body so that her back was towards him. When she told Liam that she never wanted to see him again, she thought she’d made it clear that Spain was hers. He was a gazillionaire. He could afford to leave her the fuck alone.

Apparently not. Because just as she finished her drink there was a tap at her shoulder. She knew he would be there before she turned around. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her most bored expression before turning towards Liam.

“I couldn’t help but notice how familiar you look,” He said, speaking close to her ear because of the noise level.

She almost scoffed. Is that the game he wanted to play? Pretending not to recognize the girlfriend he left behind after college? The so-called ‘love of his life’? His ‘angel with no wings’? The girl that had wasted six years of her life on him? Really?

Okay.

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, turning in her seat to face the bartender so her back was to Liam, once again.

And it was a nice back. She made sure of that with her work out regiment of running every other morning and lifting weights on the days she doesn’t run. Plus, she’d worn her favorite backless satin black dress. Grace knew she was looking good. He could eat a dick for all she cared.

Six fucking years and he thought he could talk to her any old way. Ha. He must have forgotten what she was like after all the models he’d ran through.

Grace quickly paid her tab and grabbed her clutch. She was halfway to the door when she realized Liam was following her. Rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth, she turned with her arms crossed.

“What?”

He stood there, staring, for a long moment. The area near the front door was fully lit and she wondered if he had realized his mistake.

“You remind me of someone I never thought I’d see again,” He whispered.

His words made her flinch.

“Yeah, well,” She shrugged and suddenly felt less in control of the situation. “Here’s hoping you’ll never have to see me again.”

With that, she turned and walked out the club. Her angry steps made her heels clack loudly in the night. Someone honked the horn and cat called her in Spanish and she flipped them off. She did not have the patience for that shit on that night.

“Grace, wait!”

Liam. When would he get the hint? How many times did she have to tell him that she was done with his bullshit? Done. She’d left a whole continent just so she wouldn’t have to see him again. And there he was, looking as gorgeous as ever, making Grace rethink all of her promises to herself.

Sighing, she raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Sorry, I just,” He ran a hand through his hair. Grace couldn’t help but notice he needed a haircut. “You look so different.”

“Five years will do that to you.”

He nodded and looked away, putting his hands in his pockets like he was wearing jeans and not a suit that probably cost more than Grace’s yearly rent.

“Can we just talk?”

She knew she would regret it later—and, honestly, she wasn’t sure what possessed her to agree—but the grin that took over Liam’s face when she agreed made her heart flutter. It had been five years. Surely, they could act like adults. They could at least have a conversation.

He placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as they started walking farther down the marina. As they walked up to one of Grace’s favorite gastropub’s it hit her that he’d been there before. There was no way he would know about that place tucked away at the end of the marina unless he’d been there before. In the same city. Without her knowledge. She couldn’t believe that was the first time they’d run into each other.

As they made their way into the gastropub—which was, really, just a glorified patio with a few tables and chairs but mostly lounge chairs with tables beside them—Grace took a deep breath. Was she ready to do this? She tried to forget everything about Liam. The way he looked at her, his smile, his laugh, especially the way his fingers felt as they grazed her skin and the way he looked deep in her eyes as he pushed inside her.

Sex is the last thing she needed to be thinking about as they laid next to each other on a two-person lounger. There was like two inches separating them. She couldn’t keep her mind from going there, though. She reminded herself of how good sex with Liam had been. He had to have learned a few new tricks over the years. She tried to hide her quick glance at his lap with a sip of her watermelon daquiri.

“How’ve you been?” He said, pulling her eyes from their attempt to find the outline of his dick.

She let the question sit for a moment as she sorted through her emotions. Her instinct was to be petty. She thought she had let go of the anger long ago but just seeing his face brought back all those emotions. A lump lodged itself in her throat. Hell no. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of making her cry. Again. No sir.

After clearing her throat, she made herself smile. “I’ve been great. Doing some freelancing right now. Momma tells me your little app is doing well.”

If you thought Grace wasn’t going to be petty you don’t know her very well.

“Yeah,” He laughed and took a sip of his beer. “It’s doing alright.”

“That’s great.”

She nodded. That was the extent of what she had to say to him. There was nothing else left. She had nothing to give this man that had stolen her light. He’d changed her whole personality. As other girls were finding themselves, Grace was losing herself. She’d only just found herself. Something that all the advice columns and baby boomers insisted happened during college.

“I didn’t come here to small talk,”

Grace blinked lazily. “What did you come here for, then?”

She bit her tongue to keep from saying what she really wanted to say. She didn’t have anything else to say to him. She wished he could get that through his head and leave her alone.

“I wanted to talk about us.”

I. I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I. Shut. Up. Grace didn’t want to hear any more sentences that started with ‘I.’ Whatever came after was usually only about what the speaker wanted or needed. Be careful with people who only speak in ‘I’s. They’re only there to smile at you while they break your heart over and over.

Listen to Auntie Grace. Her heart had only been broken once but that was more than enough. She knew what the fuck she was talking about.

“So, talk.” She said. As if she was going to make this easy on him.

He sat up and cleared his throat. Like he was about to make some big speech or something.

“I miss you.”

No, this motherfucker did not.

Did he just.

Seriously.

Grace managed to keep a straight face even as her thoughts bounced all over the place. Of all the things he could have said that’s what she was least prepared for. She fully expected him to ask for an apology—or even for his money back—for the tires she’d slashed, the windows she’d broken, the tv she’d smashed. Not that any of those damages compared to her heart circa 2017.

But she’d survived, she reminded herself. She survived and thrived and so did he. That much was clear. Why he felt he needed to come and intrude in her life five years after the fact was a mystery. He could never leave well enough alone. That was one thing about Liam. He was nothing if not persistent. And damn if it didn’t piss Grace off.

She just wanted to be left alone.

“Grace?”

“Hm?”

“I said I missed you.”

Oh, sweetie. She heard you the first time.

“Okay.”

Ouch.

That ‘okay’ hit Liam like a rock. Grace could tell he didn’t know what to say back. He’d expected the shy, meek Grace that he’d molded and instead he got this Grace. The Grace that didn’t care who you were, she wasn’t going to let you fuck with her. She was done with letting people walk all over her. She found that once you freed yourself from people like that your life became so much better.

She was happy. Certainly, happier than she was when she had a filter between her brain and her mouth.

“You look beautiful,” He said, leaning forward to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Thanks.” She said, her hand going up to remove the piece of hair from behind her ear.

“Dammit Grace I just want to have a civil conversation,”

“So, have one. Nobody’s stopping you. But don’t be surprised if I don’t answer.”

“You’re so frustrating,” He sighed and shook his head. “What happened to you?”

She raised her eyebrows and blinked at him.

“What happened to me?” She placed a hand on her chest. “I grew up, Liam. What happened to you to think that you could just come out of nowhere and demand things of people?”

They sat on the lounger staring at each other for a long moment. Grace didn’t have anything else to say. She was sure Liam was trying to figure out how to counter what she’d just said. She would be amazed if he didn’t just leave. That’s what rich people did, right? When things get hard they threw money at their problems or they just ignored them.

“I’m sorry,” He said softly.

He said what now.

“Um, apology accepted,”

She set her drink down and looked out to the sea. It was dark though so she couldn’t really see anything except the white foam of the miniature waves crashing at the edge. There were people walking around but mostly they were hidden away inside the air-conditioned clubs or on the patios drinking.

Later, Grace would blame her next words on the alcohol. She would completely Jamie Foxx it. But at that moment, when she looked over at Liam, she wasn’t thinking about her anger. She wasn’t thinking about their past and the ways they hurt each other. She was thinking about that apology. About how sincere he sounded.

She stood from the lounger and held her hand out to Liam.

Somehow, he understood just what she needed.

***

Grace and Liam stumbled out of a taxi at the front of his hotel. She wanted some dick but she surely wasn’t inviting him to her apartment. She’d forgiven him but that didn’t mean she wanted his overall negative energy in her home.

But his hotel, that she could do. It was impersonal and she needed that to keep her heart at least an arm’s length away from Liam.

She let him lead her into the elevator and she let him press her into a corner with a hand on her ass. His lips sponged kisses up her neck. She hiked her leg around his hip as he sucked a spot beneath her ear that had her squealing.

The elevator dinged to let them know they were at his floor sooner than they both expected. With both her feet on the ground she was still a little shaky as she looked around. Of course, he was in the penthouse. Of course. She rolled her eyes behind his back as he walked out of the elevator.

Liam pressed the softest kiss on her lips. It reminded her of their first kiss on the playground in her neighborhood at three am on her seventeenth birthday. Soft, sweet, and just a little reckless.

“I hate you,” She whispered against his lips as he finally got his card key to work.

“I’m okay with that,” He said, voice muffled against her skin as he lifted her in his arms and walked into the hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him before dumping Grace on the massive ottoman in front of the couch.

She giggled as he licked up her neck. There was a part of her that was screaming at her to stop. Like. If she really wanted to cut all ties with Liam then why would she go home with him?

But the rest of her was telling that other part to shut up, mind its business, and get this dick.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” He whispered against her skin.

Why. Why did he have to say anything? She wasn’t here to talk. She was here for sex. Dassit.

“Shh,” She said, pressing a finger to his lips before replacing it with hers.

She wanted to make the rules. After years of following him, letting him make decisions, doing things because he wanted to…it was her turn.

Grace let Liam lick all on her body as her slinky dress slipped from her shoulders. He tossed it on the floor next to them and resumed licking down her torso, pressing a kiss to her clit through her thong, before all but ripping them from her body. He made Grace squirm on the ottoman as he alternated between kissing and licking down her legs and back up to her pussy.

He left her heels on. She was about to ask if he wanted her to take them off when she felt his tongue on her slit. All words—all breath, really—left her in that moment. Who cared about the heels, truly. All Grace cared about was the feeling of Liam’s breath on her sensitive skin and his tongue on her clit.

She ran her hands through his hair and pulled at the ends gently. He looked up and winked at her. Grace was done with this slow shit. His taking his time with her, lazily running his tongue around the area where she needed it the most. She wanted to come and she wanted to do it now. She growled and pressed on the back of his head. He got the point.

Within minutes Grace was coming undone. Her breath was ragged as she gasped and moaned through the feelings. Her back arched off the ottoman and her eyes rolled back as Liam undressed himself.

She turned and got on all fours before he could grab the condom from his wallet. Looking back at him as he put it on, she bit her lip against a grin. She wasn’t sure about missing Liam but she missed this, that’s for sure.

***

In the morning, Grace was wracked by debilitating doubt. She was wrapped up in Liam. His legs were intertwined with hers, his arm was around her bare waist, his face in her neck, his breath making goosebumps pop up on her skin. She could smell him all around her. It was the same cologne she’d gifted him for their first Christmas together.

And just like that, she was eighteen again.

Alone and afraid. Left behind. Images of pale skin, unfamiliar panties, and pink nail polish on some other girls’ toes flashed through her mind.

Grace pushed Liam’s limbs off her. If she didn’t get out of that bed in the next two seconds she was sure she would throw up on him. Did she really drink that much last night? She must have.

But, deep down, she knew that wasn’t it. She knew it was the memories that she’d repressed for so many years. Of Liam moaning as he pumped into a woman who was the complete opposite of Grace.

There was a noise coming from behind her but she refused to turn and see his face. This was her worst mistake. And she’d left home at 23 to move to a different country with barely a thousand dollars to her name. It was like she’d forgotten everything she told herself. All the promises, all the goals, all the time spent talking to her therapist about Liam. Everything down the drain. And for what? An orgasm and a half?

“Come back to bed, babe,” Liam said, his voice tinged with sleep.

She inhaled sharply. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” He sat up and placed a hand on her back. She shivered. “Stop playing, Grace, c’mon.”

She needed Liam to stop talking. She needed him to stop touching her. She needed to leave. Now.

Grace stood so fast that Liam fell forward onto the bed. She grabbed her clutch from the chair in the corner and her heels from the foot of the bed.

“Grace.” Liam yelled.

No he did not just yell at her.

That stopped her as she was walking out the bedroom bare ass naked. She gave him a dirty look. Who the fuck.

“Where are you going?” He said, his tone a little more respectful after seeing how angry Grace was.

“I’m going the fuck home where the fuck do you think I’m going,” She rolled her eyes and walked out the room muttering under her breath. “Talking about where I’m going like he’s my daddy or something he better get the whole fuck out of here what the fuck.”

She was dressed and out of his hotel room in two minutes flat. That must have been a record.

***

Days later, Grace was still thinking of her encounter with Liam.

She would walk around, muttering curses under her breath, wondering what it was about that man that made her fall every time. Did she have to write ‘This is Why You Shouldn’t Fuck Liam’ notecards or would she be good next time?

She hoped to God there wouldn’t be a next time.

As she laid on her couch in her underwear Grace thought about whether she should do something or continue to scroll through social media as she ignored the movie playing on her tv. Really, she should hit up her therapist because just talking to Liam brought forth many emotions but the fact that she fucked him, too, was really messing her up. She flopped onto her stomach and sighed.

The cushion underneath her buzzed. She reached down for her phone to see a text from Niall. He was back from his surfing trip and did she want to hang.

Did she want to hang? Ha. Yes. Yes, she did.

They agreed to meet at the beach. Niall was there—looking especially scrumptious in a pair of swim trunks and black sunglasses—when Grace arrived. She’d left her bikini at home, deciding to wear a blue off the shoulder top with a pair of white shorts instead.

Just being near the marina made Grace feel like crying.

Niall could sense it, or something, because he wrapped her in a hug as soon as she was close enough. She hid her face in his chest as he stroked her hair. He let her take as long as she needed and, when she pulled back, he let go immediately. It was nice.

“You okay?” He said, a sad smile on his face. Like he knew.

Grace shook her head and exhaled.

“No, I’m not okay,” Her voice cracked. She hated when that happened.

“Do you wanna talk, Gracie?”

She smiled weakly. He’d started that a few weeks before his trip. Gracie. Nobody else had ever given her a nickname. She loved it.

“My ex was in town,” Grace took a deep breath. Just two months ago she wouldn’t have been able to imagine talking to Niall about anything deeper than her Telepizza order and look at her now. About to tell ol’ boy everything. Because somewhere along the line—along the silly pictures, the trips to the farmers market, the late-night phone calls, the texts reminding her to sleep—their friendship had become deeper than just ‘what kind of pizza do you like.’

“Ah,” Niall winced because he knew about Liam. He was the main character of more than one of their late-night phone calls. “Do I need to kick his ass?”

Grace laughed, a loud laugh, one that was full of life. She looked at Niall and grinned while shaking her head. He snaked an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head on his. Sometimes all you needed was a good friend to help you, to not give up on you, to know when you needed to talk about something and to know when you needed a laugh.

“No, seriously,” He said.

“We talked for a while, argued a bit, and then, uh,” She took a deep breath. “I went home with him. Big mistake.”

Grace looked out to the ocean and pursed her lips as she thought of how to translate her thoughts into speech.

“You know when you want something you’d eaten before, a little too much, and you think about it a lot and then, when you eat it, it’s not nearly as good as you remembered?”

Niall nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“It was a lot like that.” She whispered.

He took his arm from around her shoulder. She stopped and looked up at him. He was looking down at her. It was probably the worst timing on Grace’s part but she couldn’t stop looking at his lips.

“Come on,” He whispered, grabbing Graces’ soft hand gently with his callused one.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are we doing?”

“Just go with it, Gracie,” He said, tugging at her hand before lacing his fingers with hers and taking off at a jog.

She laughed as they dodged tourists, children, dogs, and peoples’ belongings. He was getting her mind off Liam, she knew that, and she was glad for Niall. That she had him in her life. That she hadn’t pushed him away.

When they stopped—a few feet from her favorite ice cream shop, which was probably Niall’s plan from the beginning—they were winded and grinning. Niall’s face was red and when he turned to Grace she laughed.

“Is there something on my face?”

“You’re so red, poor baby,” She said through her laughter.

Niall pouted. “Sure, make fun of the white guy.”

That made a fresh bubble of laughter burst out of Grace. Her head tipped back and, when it came back, Niall was standing right in front of her. Closer than he was before. She blinked up at him as his face came closer to hers. She realized that he was going to kiss her seconds before his lips grazed hers, as if asking for permission. She leaned up on her toes to press her lips fully to his.

He opened his mouth against hers and she followed suit. Their tongues tangled as their battle took them back and forth from his mouth, to hers, and back. The kiss made her forget that she needed to breathe. She was gasping as she leaned back down on her feet.

Was the world spinning or was that just Grace?

Niall pressed one last kiss to Grace’s forehead before she took his hand and led him to the window of the ice cream shop. She wasn’t sure if this was anything. Wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be anything. All she knew was that Niall was safe. He was safe and happy and soft.

Sometimes you needed that.

[sweetnestor]

Story of Another Us | Week 17

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

previous chapter | masterlist | playlist

An epilogue before we’re done

“Give me love like her’s, ‘cause lately I’ve been waking up alone Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt Told you I’d let them go”

I’d love this song less if I didn’t relate to it so much, or if I wasn’t singing it with Mark. We were finally practicing to sing for my channel. Our voices blended well together, and it made me happy that we could connect over this. Just when I thought things were going to fall apart, he came around and did this for me.

Mark was sat next to me as I played the piano. Jack sat across from us, listening and waiting to give us an opinion. Things finally felt okay between the three of us, which I was grateful for.

“Give a little time to me, or burn this out We’ll play hide and seek to turn this around All I want is the taste that your lips allow My my, my my, give me love”

Despite the angst and gloom the lyrics brought on, I found myself fighting off a smile. I broke it out when we finished the song. I looked at Mark, who turned to me with uncertainty.

“Are you sure that sounded okay?” he asked.

“You guys sounded amazing,” Jack reassured. “There’s chemistry there.”

“We need to film it,” I said to Mark, nudging his arm.

He hesitated, running his hand through his bright red hair (that I dyed a few weeks prior - never mentioned that, did I?) “Let’s just work on it some more.”

He would always say that, but I was patient. I understood the nerves all too well.

“People are still talking about your last cover, Baller,” Jack told me. “Maybe it is better to wait a little bit?”

“What? ‘Stone Cold?’” I asked. “Really?”

“Well, can you blame ‘em?” Mark replied. “That one was��� incredible.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, playing with the ends of my hair. “You ever gonna dye your hair a different color?”

I twiddled another piece of my hair, looking down at the vibrant pink ends. “No. Why? Does it look bad?”

“No, of course not,” Mark reassured. “I’m just wondering how you’d look with other colors like, uh… blue… or blonde.”

“Hmm… I like pink,” I told him before leaning in and kissing his cheek. “We’re pink, red, and green. That’s a decent color scheme right?” It was meant to be sarcastic, until-

“It’s the best color scheme,” Jack said.

I smiled wide, although my heart began to ache a little bit. Jack was going to be leaving in a week’s time. I was going to miss him, I couldn’t even deny it. The worst part was that because YTU was shutting down, there wasn’t really a guarantee he would move back here. Jack had claimed before how much he disliked Los Angeles, and how excited he was to go back to Ireland. Sure, I would see him at Vidcon, but there was no certainty that we would actually be able to hang out.

Typically, I leave friends behind because I assume they don’t want to talk to me anymore once they don’t have to. This time, I was dreading it. This time, I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want to leave Jack behind.

“I should be getting back,” Mark said as he stood from the couch, “to my wonderful editor.”

He had managed to work things out with Matt and Ryan for the time being. Last I heard, they were going to move out of Mark’s house, but they would still work with him. No one knew how long more they would be around. While Mark was frustrated with them, I could tell he didn’t want them to go. He didn’t want them to move, much less quit, and it was slowly killing him. But Mark was also a man of pride and stubbornness, so he wouldn’t admit to that anytime soon.

“I’m sure Matt’s trying as hard as he can,” I told him, remembering the promise that I made.

“If you were around him twenty-four seven you’d understand,” he replied. “And Ryan’s not any better.

“Just give it some time,” Jack told him. “Maybe with them living somewhere else will help. You probably just need a break from each other.”

“Yeah, but besides that. There’s a bunch of shit we gotta get done.”

“Just try to keep your cool,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “I know things are stressful, but try not to take it out on them. Remember they’re your friends, not just your employees.”

Mark nodded and sighed. “Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

With that, he kissed me goodbye and was out the door. I switched off my keyboard and carried it back to my room. When I came back, I noticed Jack looking at me. My hand immediately went to my face, wondering if I had developed a giant zit in the last hour.

“¿Algo en que te puedo ayudar?” I asked, despite the small rush of paranoia I felt.

He cracked a smile. “Come again?”

“Something I can help you with?”

“Oh. Uh… I was just wondering if, uh, Mark has treated you the way he’s been treating Matt and Ryan?” Jack’s tone was more serious than I had anticipated.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head.

“Would you tell me if he did?”

I hesitated. “I, I think you’d be able to tell if he yelled at me for no reason.”

“Well, I don’t disagree,” Jack said, “I just want you to know, if he steps out of line, know that you can call me, and I’ll kick his ass from across the globe.”

Would he? That was unexpected, especially since this friendship wasn’t going to make it from across the globe. Or… was I just paranoid like always?

“Really?” I tilted my head to the side.

“You sound really surprised by that.”

Time to explain myself through word fumbling.

“It’s j-just… you were friends with Mark before I came along. I, uh, I-I didn’t think... “

“You’re my friend too, Baller,” Jack told me, stepping towards me. “And, y’know we’ve lived together for the past few months and we went to school together. We’ve had time to get to know each other.” He paused, and his eye contact was almost suffocating. What was happening? “I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to open up to someone and trust them, so I’m honored that you’ve done that with me. I just want you to know that you’ve always got someone to talk to, no matter the distance.”

My eyes were on the floor. I was silent, my emotions doing things they hadn’t done in a long time. I tried to link these things to any other similar situation, but the last time I remembered this feeling was when I was in high school. Seventeen, surrounded by nice people at a lunch table. The next time, I was twenty and was surrounded by my now ex-girlfriend’s kind friends. Then, I was twenty three, sitting at The Tube, mildly tipsy.

“Bella?” Jack asked softly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” I answered. “I just… I haven’t had a friend in a long time. I mean, I have Mark. But he’s my boyfriend. Or, now he’s an angry version of my boyfriend.” It was starting to make more sense as I said it out loud. “I mean… I love you… both of you. Jack, I love you to pieces. But not like I want to date you or kiss you or marry you. I love you like… you’re the person I can go to when even my boyfriend is too much, because he is a lot to handle right now. I mean, look who’s talking, a girl with panic disorder, depression, and probably some personality disorder as well. But still. You understand that, and you accept that… and I’m still wondering how you’re not tired of me.”

“It’s like I said, you’re my friend,” Jack repeated. “I can’t get tired of my friend.”

“You… You’ve given me some type of hope. That, even if things go wrong… it’ll be okay.” That was even weirder to say. “I’m not used to this feeling.”

He smiled. “You should get used to it then. And it’s true. If shit hits the fan, you will survive. And if you need someone to remind you of that, you know where to reach me.”

It wasn’t the same as having him here in my apartment. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have the place empty of his presence. I couldn’t imagine what his room would look like after he was gone. Yes, I had Mark, but I wouldn’t have my… best friend.

Is this what a best friend is? A person you can count on to be your pick-me-up, your partner in crime, the first person you want to tell all your good or bad news to. Your shoulder to cry on when it all goes to shit. A person who is better family than the ones who gave you life… Is this what it’s like? Is it supposed to hurt when they leave?

“You know we’ll see each other again,” Jack reassured. “Don’t think this is over just because I’m going back to Ireland.”

That’s what I needed to hear. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed them. But I’ve learned to trust Jack over time, and I’ve learned to love him.

~

If there was anything I loved about music, it was finding more than one meaning in a song. A love song doesn’t necessarily mean you have to immediately think romantic love. Doesn’t mean you have to dedicate it to the person you’re crushing on or dating. If there’s anything I learned in these last few months, it’s that platonic love is just as important as romantic love.

Friends are for life. Your true friends are the ones that remain constant in your ever changing life. They help make things less scary. They help you bring out your best self. They might point out something in you that you didn’t see before. You may be apart by distance, but not by the heart.

~

One last ditch, a new beginning So take this heart, put yourself in it The surprise ending I’m depending on Could be the story of another us

_______

Thank you to every fricking person who has read this story. Even if none of you said anything about it, I know that there's people reading, and that makes me happy. I got a little teary eyed writing this last chapter, and that's mainly because I was thinking about my feelings towards Jack, and I realized that that is how I see him. He is my friend, and I love him to bits. Anyway, there's gonna be two more stories following this one, so stay tuned!

knock knock open up the door its a  s e q u e l