no distance just grace

Botw 4 (no RR!Link in this one)

Wrote this on work, literally on post-it notes, over the course of the day.  Take from that what you will.

No RR!Link because there are not enough hours in the day.  I’m honestly impressed I got this done.  My brain is so tired, you guys.  It’s so tired.

Zelda-focused in this one.  Mildly-shippy, but only if you’re looking really hard.  

Writing after the jump!

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Crossfire

Request: Hey could you please do a peter pan imagine where the reader is caught between crossfire between the lost boys and hook’s crew and then someone fires an arrow (from either side) and it almost hits the reader but peter saves her by creating some sort of barrier around her? thx so much if you do this xx

Warnings: fight scenes and slight gore (an arrow going into an eyeball)

Author’s Note: Captain Hook’s ship is called the Queen Anne’s Revenge in this particular piece


Neverland possesses a certain ability to calm troubled minds – I know this from personal experience. I found it out for myself one morning on an empty beach, long before Pan – and therefore the rest of the island – had awoken. From then on, I had made it a point to return to the dunes when I found myself rising early from stress.

           I know, I know. Neverland is supposed to be a refuge for those who are Lost. It’s supposed to be a place where one can avoid aging, and furthermore, evade the messy responsibilities and stresses that go along with getting older. But somehow I still find ways to become tense. Sometimes it’s because of a particularly intense dream my mind concocted. Sometimes it’s because of reckless Lost Boys putting themselves in danger, getting injured, and earning a cot in the infirmary tent.

           This time, however, it’s because of the pirate ship looming in the distance, sailing towards the island with the silent stealth of a cat stalking its prey. The sails are wide and strong, proudly displaying the Jolly Roger. The Queen Anne’s Revenge is distinct, and there is no doubting who her captain is.

           The last time I saw this ship, I had just arrived to Neverland and was lucky enough to witness the Queen Anne’s Revenge cruising away from the island as opposed to toward it.

           When I had inquired about the ship to Pan, our leader, he had scowled. His eyes narrowed and their green color turned flat black. “Bloody pirates,” he relayed sinisterly. “Disgusting, good-for-nothing lot of codfish.” My expression must’ve made him think I was frightened. He smiled as if to comfort me, but it was twisted and dark. “Not to worry. The Lost Boys and I have driven them away, and the cowards know better than to ever return to my island.”

           “And if they do?” My small, naïve voice pressed. “If they do come back, then what happens?”

           “We fight them. We go to war once again,” he said simply. “We kill a few of their men and then they’ll leave again.”

           That had been years ago. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long because there is no sense of time in Neverland, since no one grows old, but apparently enough time has gone by for me to mature and for the pirates to foolishly deem it alright to attempt to return to Neverland.

           There is a faint breeze through the trees. I can hear animals scurrying along tree limbs, going about their daily business.

           Pan must be awake. I sigh internally at this realization and try to compose myself. I know he will come looking for me, and he will want to know what’s wrong.

           Pan will think it silly for me to worry about the pirates. After all, the Lost Boys and I have undergone rigorous training for this purpose. We are tough from surviving on this wild island. We are strong from intense physical conditioning. We are smart from games that teach strategy and implant quick-thinking skills.

           Pan claims that he allows the Lost to come here so that they finally have a home. Secretly, I think he is just building an army against the pirates – and an effective one at that.

           It’s not that I doubt my capabilities, necessarily… I just… I’ve never been in battle before. The Lost Boys have told me stories about Indians who live on the other side of the island in a small camp. Pan won’t confirm or deny this, and I’ve never plucked up the courage to go check for myself. The Lost Boys tell stories of wild raids upon the camp, how they narrowly escaped with their lives, and the way the Indians wielded their weapons. The Indians sound like formidable opponents. I wonder if the pirates will be the same way. I wonder if I’m prepared.

           The twig that breaks behind me barely reaches my ears over the rough, crashing waves. I don’t move from my seat on the smooth rock. I know who it is.

           “Up a bit early, are we?” Pan remarks as he sits on the sand, legs stretched out and shoulders grazing my knee as he leans back against my boulder. “What was it this time? Have another one of your dreams again?”

           “No,” I bite my lower lip. “Last night, when you…” I see his shoulder tense. He doesn’t need to be reminded. He remembers. I skip over the last part of that sentence. “I knew something was up… so I came out here to try and think it out and…” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I saw it.”

           Pan mutters something about me being too curious for my own good with a few choice words. I fight a smile and stare down at his unruly mop of brown curls. My fingers twitch with the urge to stroke his hair. Instead, I clench my hands into fists as tight as I can. Pan’s friendship with me has just recently become deeper than the one he typically shares with the majority of his Lost Boys. I don’t want to ruin that – and I have a feeling that giving him any kind of tender affection would be the way to do it.

           We sit in comfortable silence for several minutes. We both enjoy the change in atmosphere, the peaceful lull of the water replacing boisterous jaunts and rowdy shouts that are usually heard at camp.

           “Are you scared?” Pan asks suddenly.

           “No,” I say instantly. It’s a reflex. Even if I was seconds from death, I would never admit to Pan that I was afraid of anything. It’s just something he’s inculcated into us all.

           “Mmm, apprehensive then. I can tell when you lie to me, and you know how much I hate when people feed me lies.” He doesn’t go further into a scolding. He knows I get the point. He knows me too well. “You shouldn’t worry so much. You’re going to do fine.”

           I sigh. “I know that Pan. I’ve got no qualms about what you’ve turned me into.” He smirks at that. “But this is my first fight, and-”

           “Nonsense. You’ve fought the rest of the boys plenty of times.”

           “But that’s different,” I pressed. “That’s practice. This is the real deal,” I glance at the gradually approaching ship. “Against real pirates.”

           “Don’t you fret about some barnacle-brained pirates.” He rises abruptly. “You’re more than capable of handling yourself around them. You’re ready.” He dusts himself off and doesn’t meet my eyes. I have to wonder if he really means that or if he’s just trying to fuel me with fake confidence. It sounded as though he was attempting to convince himself more than he was me. “We should have about a day before they arrive. Instead of moping, let’s alert the Lost Boys of the company we’re expecting and sharpen all the weapons. All the best for our guests, yes?”

***

Dinner around the campfire is as lively as ever, if not more so. The Lost Boys stuff themselves like turkeys and laugh and talk of all the things they are going to do to the pirates tomorrow. I sit quietly on my end of the log, smiling and nodding along to those who include me in their conversations. I wish I felt their enthusiasm. Instead, I feel like I’m going to puke enough to submerge the island.

           Pan notices this. When he dismisses everyone to a good night’s sleep, he calls my name. A few curious looks are cast my way as I go against the steady stream of Lost Boys retiring to their tents.

           “Walk with me,” he orders. Then he spins on his heel and heads into the dark forest. I remain stationary for a few moments – honestly, who wants to enter those trees when it’s night – but eventually come to the realization that I don’t have a choice and I better get a move-on before Pan’s too far ahead and I can’t see diddly-squat.

           Before I follow him, though, I heft an abandoned spear off the ground. Pan has magic. He can afford to roam at night without a weapon. I, however, am as un-magical as they come and don’t want to rely on Pan for my own protection. Knowing him, he’d stand back and watch me struggle just to see if I have it in me to save myself.

           I realize where we’re going before we even arrive at the destination. I’ve tread this path about a million times at all hours of the day by myself, making me feel a bit better about the walk. We’re going to the beach.

           Pan stops at the tree line and holds back a large leaf to let me pass.

           I’m immediately soothed when I step onto the sand. While I would love to think that Pan brought me here to make me feel better, I know it is really because it is far enough away from camp that even if we were to shout, the Lost Boys wouldn’t be able to hear us. Privacy is very important to Pan.

           “Notice anything?” Pan whispers. He’s surprisingly close: we have the whole beach to ourselves and he’s standing right behind me, the distance short enough for his lips to just barely grace my cheek.

           “The ship!” I gasp. The ocean is open and empty. The waves roll up and wash back lazily, as if tired from a long day of bombarding the shore.

           My eyes search the large expanse frantically. The sky is so dark it blends with the water, and I ridiculously wonder if the ship is hiding under the deep blue covering, like it’s a stage curtain that was drawn to conceal the scene.

           Then I see it – little flickering yellow lights dancing on the water. They look like balls of fire, but I know better. Without thinking, I sprint towards the source, wanting to see where the monstrous ship is.

           I can hear Pan racing behind me. For a fleeting second I worry about what he thinks of me running out into the open like a crazy person, but then I reach the shore. Panting, I skid to a stop, toes in the tide. Pan nearly slams into my back. I stumble and his hand plants itself on my hip, steadying me.

           “Easy,” he chuckles softly. He doesn’t remove his hand.

           I barely hear him. The only way I know he’s there is the heat of his large hand, fingers splayed wide and firm.

           The Queen Anne’s Revenge is huge, mast towering above some of Neverland’s trees. It glides elegantly and slices silently through the water. Faintly, if I strain my ears, I can hear pirates singing and laughing. Through the bright windows I can see thick shadows move about, drinking and talking.

           I snap back into reality then, turning sharply in Pan’s grasp to look into his eyes. “We have to warn the boys!” I say quickly. “The pirates are here! We have to tell them! They need to get ready!”

           Pan smirks. “There’s no need,” he tells me smoothly. “The pirates will dock in Mermaid Lagoon – and you and I both know that the mermaids are more than capable of handling some idiot pirates.” It’s warm on the island but I still fight the urge to shiver. I can clearly picture the blood-thirsty sea demons with red staining their inviting mouths, dripping down their talons, and tainting their manes of brightly colored hair.

           “And then what?” I pushed. “How can you be so sure? What if they attack us at night while we’re sleeping?”

           “Did you really just ask me that?” He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Have you forgotten that I own this island? It is mine, and I know everything that goes on in it.”

           I fight the urge to roll my eyes. No need to piss him off. “I know that,” I affirm.

           “I should hope so,” Pan replies, a sadistic smile accompanying his playfully malevolent tone. “Otherwise you’d be in for a rather nasty awakening.” He strides past me, hands clasping behind his back as he watches the ship edge its way around the island. There’s a predatorial spring to his step and gleam in his eye.

           I start before I can stop myself. “If this is really your island, then why don’t you keep them from coming back?”

           For a moment I’m terrified I made a grave mistake. Pan turns slowly, arms still tucked behind him. I brace myself for the coming impact of a spell that will surely knock me off my feet or cause great pain.

           Pan smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?” he asks with a light scoff.

           I don’t say anything.

           He closes his lips but still smiles. He turns back to the ship, almost as if he’s afraid to take his eyes off it for long. “They won’t attack us at night. Their captain is too smart to let a band of drunk pirates out to fight. He knows he will lose that way, and after all I’ve done to him, he seeks the revenge of winning a battle on my land.”

           “What did you do to him?” My curiosity gets the best of me.

           “Lots of things he deserved.” He says this nonchalantly with a small shrug. I can sense the deeper meaning in his voice because of how well I’ve come to know him. It’s clear this pirate captain has done something to Pan, something horrible. I don’t press him any further. I know he’s already told me a lot – more than he’s told any other Lost Boy, I’m willing to bet. Well, perhaps maybe Felix would be an exception.

           We stand in silence. The waves are gentle. The breeze that rustles the tress is calming. There is even something relaxing about the silhouette of the ship slipping around the side of the island.

           “We should head back,” Pan mutters. “You need rest for the fight tomorrow. The pirates are late risers; we can choose where we want this battle to take place and wait for them to stumble upon us.”

           “You say that like it’s predictable, like you can see into the future.”

           “I can’t see into the future.” Pan smirks knowingly. “But I can recall the past. This has happened before. It will happen again.”

           I nod and we lapse into silence once again. The Queen Anne’s Revenge has almost completely rounded the island; the only source of lighting it provided is going with it.

           It becomes unbelievably dark. I raise my arm and wave my hand in front of my face; I can’t see it, but I do hit myself on the nose.

           Pan snorts. “Here,” he murmurs, a dancing ball of glistening green igniting in his palm. “I’ll lead the way.” Then, as almost a second thought, he mumbles, “Stay close.”

           I nod again and trail behind him, clutching my spear and struggling to suppress thoughts of things that could be waiting in the trees to ambush us in the dark.

***

The next morning is overcast. A thick fog surrounds the camp, tendrils curling around the tents and trailing as high as Pan’s lookout treehouse. The humidity is so heavy it doesn’t even feel like I’m breathing; I’m drowning in its weight and the suspense of what’s to come.

           I am high in a tree on the outskirts of a clearing that was specifically made for events like this. I’m panting from a mixture of nerves and excitement. Mostly nerves. My muscles ache from their tense, bunched position. My sweaty palms have difficulty gripping the bow.

           I risk a glance away from the ground below to peer at the other smaller Lost Boys who were also forced into trees. They all bounce their legs and lean precariously forward, more than ready to fight.

           Beneath me, I can hear the larger Lost Boys shuffle in place. Some are crouched in bushes; some are well camouflaged; all are on edge.

           There’s a slight puffing sound, and suddenly a green mist trickles over us before disappearing: Pan’s signal. The pirates are about to stumble into our trap.

           “On my mark,” Felix whispers hoarsely, preparing his club. “Ready…”

           We wait in silence. My heart pounds in my ear; I’m almost afraid it’s too loud and I won’t hear Felix – or worse! The pirates will hear!

           Then they come – creeping surprisingly well for the kind of pirates I’ve been told these lot are. They are nothing like they were last night. Each one is hunched into a fighting stance, shiny silver blades glinting in their hands. They are all dressed in elaborate yet baggy clothing. Many have rags tied around their straggly hair; all have matted beards that squiggle with wiry curls at the ends. Their fingernails have dirt underneath, and their whole bodies seem to be coated in a fine layer of grime. Some bare their yellow teeth from anticipation.

           I swallow harshly. Yikes. I don’t want to even be within five feet of these guys, much less fight them.

           At their rear is a man dressed in red. And on this man’s left arm is a hook in place of his hand. Captain Hook, the man I’ve heard so much about. His eyes scan the clearing precisely as his men continue forward.

           One of the Lost Boys in the tree directly across from me scratches his leg. It causes branches to shake.

           Captain Hook hisses, “Stop.” By now all of the pirates are in the clearing, looking back and forth between each other. They see their captain glancing around frantically and proceed to do the same.

           “Wha’ do ya see, Cap’in?”

           “Wha’ is it, Cap’in?”

           “Cap’in?”

           “Quiet,” he snarls. “That bloody demon Pan… arms at the ready! He’s near. Him and those wretched Lost Boys.”

           “Why do ya say tha’?”

           “Where ar’ they?”

           “Do ya see ‘em, Cap’in?”

           Felix doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Now!”

           The battle begins

***

It’s hard to make out definite shapes in between all the fighting. Limbs are in constant sweeping motion; bodies are strewn about and darting in and out of the crowd; swords and clubs and spears and axes and arrows are soaring through the air with deadly purpose.

           I remain in the tree, panting harshly as I struggle to notch another arrow. My job, along with the rest of the Lost Boys on tree duty, is to pick off pirates from up above. Simple enough if you’re able to keep your balance.  

           But, of course, I can’t.

           A pirate body-slams a Lost Boy into the tree I am ever so carefully perched in, causing me to let out a yelp as I’m rocketed forward, dangling about six feet above the ground by the vine wrapped around my mid-section to help keep me steady. That sure helped a lot.

           My foot breaks the pirate’s nose. He lets out an angered yell before grabbing my ankle and yanking me down.

           The wind rushes through my hair as I fall, and my back hits the ground so forcefully I feel as though I can’t breathe.

           Blinking hard, I blindly feel for the bow I had been holding – I must’ve dropped it during the fall.

           The pirate’s eyes widen when he sees me – “A girl!” he exclaims – and proceeds to crouch over me. Puffing, I reach behind me to grab one of the arrows from my quiver. Then I promptly shove it in his eye.

           The pirate lets out a howl of pain. I use this distraction to heave him off and rise to my feet, scampering away. I don’t think to look for my bow or finish him off. I’m too preoccupied with the thoughts of what could’ve happened if I hadn’t stabbed him and the shade of red his blood had been as it dripped down his face.

           The battle rages on. My little squabble with the now one-eyed pirate is nothing compared to what some of the Lost Boys are doing. In some areas, when you step in the grass it squelches from the excess amount of blood pooling there.

           I catch sight of Pan in the middle of it all, grinning broadly as he fights Captain Hook, sword to knife. As another violent ping! rings from their blades connecting, Pan’s eyes meet mine. He gives me a smile. He looks so comfortable, so… confident. Pan is right at home on the battle field.

           Then his face falls. For a second I’m worried that he’s been hurt, that I’ve distracted him, that Hook got in a lucky shot.

           A great gust of wind blows my hair forward, accompanied by a sharp whooshing sound. I turn around and gasp, stumbling back.

           An arrow remains suspended in the air, stuck in a wall of glittering green that had protected my back. It is inches from my nose; it would’ve pierced my skull and I would’ve been dead. There’s no question about it.

           I look back at Pan, who is pressing Hook harder than before. Pan performs a maneuver with a quick flick of his wrist that disarms Hook. Then he kicks the man away and runs over to me. “Are you alright?” He asks, eyes scanning me up and down for any sign of injury. “Tell me you’re alright.”

           “I’m fine,” I promise him. I glance back at the fading wall. “Did you…?”

           “Of course it was me,” he smirks. “Who else here can use magic?”

           I smile. “Thanks.”

           “I’m not looking for your gratitude. I just want you to be a bit more careful. I can’t be watching out for you all the time, you know.”

           “Still…” I side-step slightly to avoid a particularly vicious brawl between Felix and two pirates. “You kinda saved my life.”

           Pan opens his mouth to say something, but Hook is stalking over. I don’t have time to say anything other than “duck.” We both drop into a low squat, narrowly avoiding getting our heads taken off by Hook’s sword.

           “Now we’re even,” Pan winks.

vimeo

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Dear Friends,
Over the span of the last year Afta-1 & myself have diligently been working on an ever changing album entitled “No Distance Just Grace” . What started off as an idea for a traditional hiphop album has evolved into a multi medium collaborative art project between various creatives within our community. With the help of animator Lila Burns, we have been able to give new life to one of the early recordings from the record and are very pleased to share it with you. This is NOT a music video. It is merely a stop motion love letter from Afta-1 & SPEAK! .Across countries, cities & seas Afta-1 & SPEAK! present No Distance Just Grace.

-SPEAK!

DL the song- http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?ocutx444wncxmcg

RUNNING WATER & SUITCASE HEARTS - Part One

Hartbig. 2.4k. SFW.  This is a two-part fic, of which the conclusion will definitely be very SFF, so enjoy the ride! (other writing here)

a/n Amazing and many many thanks to the most splendid beta in all the land isilagdur for keeping me in check and frensheep and for always being so supportive and to haveyouseenmyplot for the fish faces and [sparkles].

_________

Part One: Running Water

One out of every 344 babies is born with a pinprick imperfection between the chamber walls of its heart. A tiny hole. Invisible really, but somehow your body knows its there. Knows it needs to work harder than other hearts. Equilibrium becomes a marathon.

Hannah’s heart has three holes in it. There is no explanation for how a person can survive with such injuries but she is not the only one who walks around like this.

The first hole opens on its own. There was no puncture wound, no ice pick to the chest. There was just Grace. Grace and a dress flush with the print of something you’d find on a bedspread tucked into the back of your grandmother’s closet. Geezer chic she called it, and it was. Only a leggy blonde disaster of tequila, sweetness, and a genuine lack of coordination could give one lingering look in Hannah’s direction over cheap margaritas and laugh with enough fervor to sling salsa on the neighboring table and send Hannah’s heart reeling.

It takes Grace 1.3 seconds to blush pink with a sheepish smile and turn Hannah’s world into the gasp before the horror film carnage when she suddenly pictures a future in the distance with this epitome of #thatawkwardmomentwhen. A far off island of maybes that Grace can never swim out to.  

Hannah will drown before she learns that breathing water is not a skill people develop by falling in love with their best friends.

Symptoms and complications can include breathlessness and an increased heart rate. Blood begins a catacomb journey to the vital organs and the injured heart now has to work twice as hard to keep enough oxygen for normal functioning. You will struggle to keep breathing.

Keep reading

Faster, Higher, Stronger (2/3)

The Olympics are long over, but I didn’t forget about this little AU fic. It will take another chapter to wrap up, but I figured I’d post this part now. 

Summary: Crown Princess Emma of Misthaven is considered the best hope for the tiny European country to win their first ever medal at the Summer Olympics, but due to security concerns her parents have sent her to Rio with two ex-British Special Forces private bodyguards, Liam and Killian Jones.

Read from the beginning on ff.net

He was an idiot.

Liam clearly thought so, and his brother was right. It was supposed to be an easy job - accompany a rich, spoiled princess to the Olympics, stand around for two weeks while she competed (in archery, of all things) and go home to London with a fat pay packet and a satisfied client.

Oh, he’d like to satisfy her, over and over again, and…not now, Killian!

He shifted in his seat and slouched down against Liam’s sudden sideways glare, as if his brother knew exactly where his thoughts had just wandered.

Keep reading

vimeo

The most important piece of music I’ve ever made. SPEAK! + @afta1 = No Distance just grace stop motion music video.

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The Leather Jacket

Hartbig fanfic, based off of what Grace said in her ‘MY FAVOURITE THINGS’ video:)
First shot at fanfic, hope it isn’t too awful:’) SFW, 1,300ish words;)

Feedback would be awesome and much appreciated!

~

The evening air was crisp and cold on Graces porch, but watching the sun going down over LA was mesmerising and relaxing to Grace, and the gin and tonic in her hand was helping to keep her warm. Hannah sat in the sun lounger next to Grace, but she didn’t seem to be enjoying the sunset quite as much. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chin, cradling her drink in her hands which were tucked away behind her legs. Grace noticed she was shivering slightly and couldn’t help but laugh at how cute the girl looked in this state.

‘What’s so funny?’ Hannah asked, looking up at Grace from behind her knees.

'Nothing,’ Grace replied, still giggling slightly, 'it’s just you look so adorable curled up like that.’

Hannah smiled, ‘Well it’s cold out here. And you seem very interested in just staring out into the distance so I’m just cocooning to keep warm,’ she giggled.

'I’m not just staring out into the distance,’ Grace started defensively, 'I’m admiring the sunset, it’s relaxing and-’

'FREEZING!’ Hannah half shouted as Grace began to laugh hysterically.

'Well no-one forced you to wear a sleeveless top half-way through February! Who goes out in just a vest and doesn’t bother bringing a jacket?’

'Sleeve me alone!’ Hannah jokingly whined, resulting in another fit of giggles from Grace.

'Hannah, you’ve used that pun too many times, it’s awful!’

'Reusing a great pun is perfectly harmless!’

'I think you mean armless.’

And it was Hannah’s turn to double over, clutching her sides with laughter.

'I’ve been spending far too much time with you and Mamrie,’ Grace sighed, with a smirk on her face.

'We’re such good influences,’ Hannah managed to gasp after her laughing subsided, still wiping tears from her eyes.

Grace held up her ring finger to Hannah with a smug smile plastered across her face.

'I am worth the middle finger!’ Hannah gasped in mock horror.

Both girls broke down into fits of laughter again until finally they both calmed down and the stillness and cold of the air around them returned. They both sat in content silence for a little while, watching their breaths leave their mouths in a cloud of mist as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the stars beginning to make mesmerising dot-to-dots across the darkening sky. Grace felt at peace again and her mind began to wander, but she was soon brought back to earth when she heard teeth begin to chatter beside her.

'We can go inside if you like, it’s getting pretty cold,’ Grace asked the younger girl, who had goosebumps beginning to appear across her arms.
‘No, it- it’s fine,’ Hannah managed between the chattering of her teeth, ‘I want to w- watch the st- stars come out with you. It’s b- beautiful.’

'Honestly, and you were complaining about me staring out into the distance!’ Grace said in mock exasperation whilst standing up and beginning to make her way to the door of her house. She noticed that Hannah didn’t make any attempt to follow and was still gazing up intently at the stars. Grace couldn’t help but admire the way the stars reflected in Hannah’s bright blue eyes, making it seem as though the stars were not in fact in the sky, but swirling through the ocean.

Grace moved away from the door and over to where Hannah was sitting. She began unzipping her leather jacket when Hannah looked up at her.

'What are you d- doing?’ Hannah asked in confusion, but Grace ignored her and continued to remove her jacket and then held it out towards Hannah.

'What? No, honestly Grace, you’ll get cold, I-I’m fine!’ Hannah mumbled in refusal, but Grace didn’t move and stood, with arm still outstretched, until Hannah eventually gave in to Graces stare and took the Jacket from her.

'Thanks Grace,’ Hannah mumbled in gratitude as she pulled the jacket around herself with a small smile playing on her lips.

'Anything to stop your annoying teeth chattering,’ Grace replied playfully with a wink. Grace was now beginning to feel the cold herself as she leaned against Hannah’s lounger, so she pulled her arms around herself tighter, trying not to let her own teeth start chattering.

Hannah noticed this at once.

'Look who’s cold now,’ Hannah said jokingly, raising her eyebrows.

Grace rolled her eyes as her teeth began to chatter.

'Shut up Han.’

'Trying to play the hero were we, but now who’s the damsel in distress?’ Hannah retorted with a smile, obviously enjoying the turn of events. 'Sit down beside me and we can share it.’

Grace gave Hannah a doubtful look. ‘Hannah, the j-jacket can’t cover the both of us.’

'Just sit down and we can drape it over us, share body heat like penguins or whatever.’

Hannah was watching Grace closely, looking for any sign of discomfort from her suggestion, but Grace showed none. She climbed over the arm of the lounger clumsily, landing half on top of Hannah.

'Sorry,’ Grace groaned as she tried to reposition herself comfortably next to Hannah, but after having been hit in the face three times by various parts of Graces body, Hannah grabbed Grace around her middle and allowed her to lie partially across her, with the back of Graces right shoulder pressed against the front of Hannah’s left. Grace seemed uncertain at first as of where to rest her head, but eventually deemed it most comfortable to lean her head sideways across Hannah’s shoulder with her forehead nuzzled against Hannah’s neck. Hannah’s head fell to the side almost naturally, so that her cheek was pressed against the top of Graces head. Both girls sat quietly like this for some time, simply enjoying the heat each was giving to the other, and the comfort of each others presence. Hannah concentrated on how their breathing was in time, but Graces heart was beating just slightly quicker than her own. She felt Grace shiver beside her and brought the leather jacket up slightly higher and breathed in the scent from it.
At this Grace startled. ‘You okay Han?’

'Yeah, I’m fine, your jacket smells like you just.’

'Oh, sorry about that, they don’t call me Smellbig for nothing you know…’ Grace trailed off, blushing slightly.

'No, not like that, in a good way. It smells like you in a good way, like, it’s comforting.’ Hannah managed, trying not to make things weird.

'Well if it’s so comforting then you can keep it. It makes me look like some sort of weird biker chick,’ Grace laughed.

'But you might miss it, you might decide you like looking like a weird biker chick.’

Grace thought about this for a second before replying, ‘Well, knowing me, if I do change my mind I’ll probably just go and buy a new one from H&M or something.’

Hannah laughed, ‘That does sound like something you’d do.’

Graces eyes began to grow heavy and soon her eyelids blocked the starry night from view. She could feel Hannah’s eyes on her, trying to tell if she’d fallen asleep or not, but she made no move to try and wake her, instead she nuzzled deeper into Grace’s hair and whispered softly.

'I know you’re asleep now, but for what it’s worth I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed watching the sunset with you. I enjoyed watching the stars come out too. I enjoyed watching you fall asleep. You make me really happy Grace, and although I know you can’t hear me, I love you.’

But somewhere in Grace’s sub-conscious mind, she did hear her. And that part of her agreed with these words, and soon walls that had been built up over months and months were broken down within seconds as her whole being came to the realisation that this feeling she had was real and could be suppressed no longer. And with a final effort before sleep took over she managed to whisper…

'I love you too.’

~
Feedback is much appreciated so I know whether I’m any good or not and if I should write more!;)

Falling

This is based on a prompt I received to write a fic based on Ed Sheeran’s song Kiss Me. This is the other version I wrote, it’s quite different.

Up until an hour ago, L.A. had been it’s postcard perfect self, complete with blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Now, as Hannah waits in the park, she watches as the black clouds began to gather in the sky, casting an eerie darkness on her afternoon. Her idea of the perfect setting fading as fast as the sun’s light, she hopes it’s not a sign of how her afternoon is going to turn out.

A gust of wind rushes through the park, upturning Hannah’s hair as the storm grows closer, thunder rumbling in the distance.

Hannah uncrosses and recrosses her legs in anticipation. It’s just Grace, why is she so nervous?

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Insufficiency

SFW, NSFF, 1.456 words.

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Insufficiency

In hindsight, the thing that hurts the most was her loving Grace so intensely and it just was not enough. The amount of times she had broken down the brunette’s defences and got her to the point where she thought they could start and make something out of a situation that was messed up to start with, were countless. Grace had always had a knack for saying things to make her believe she was on the right track, and then crashing it all down the next day.

She remembers it clear as day. They had gone for a walk in Silver Lake, and Grace had talked about a new project she was developing for a TV network, and Mamrie had sat there smiling, nodding at the right times and asking questions at the appropriate intervals in the younger girl’s story. They had bought smoothies from the Tunisian guy on the corner of 87th and Moore, and then Grace had suggested going up the highest point of Silver Lake and just staying there for a while.

The view had been great, but it had little to do with Silver Lake. They had sat alongside each other, drinking smoothies and joking about Hannah dropping a squirrel in the very same park they were in a few weeks earlier. Grace had leant back, elbows propping herself up from the grass. Come on, it’s fun. Mamrie had followed suit, lying next to the brunette and listening to random remarks about clouds and future plans. After ten minutes, their arms were sore, and Grace had sat up for a second to grab their purses and use them as pillows as they lied down entirely.

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On the Other Side

“All packed ?” says Grace as Chester enters the living room. “Mhmm” he replies. Grace sighs and looks at his luggage, contemplating whether or not to just unpack all of his things at once. Chester sits next to her and the room is silent for a bit. “It’s almost time for you to go” Grace says standing up. Chester knows she is trying to hide the fact that she is upset. “Come here” he says reaching out to her. Grace steps towards him and he pulls her down on to his lap, her feet swinging off to the side. He hugs around her waist tightly. “I’m gonna miss you” he says. “I feel like we were just getting started” she says and plays with the ring on her finger. “We still are. It’s just long distance now. I think we can do that…right?” Grace looks at him and it makes her want to tell him to stay and forget about New York but she can’t do that. “Yes” she says. Chester kisses her forehead.

A horn sounds outside and that means it’s time for Chester to go. He grabs his bag and heads for the door pulling Grace after him. She gets to the front step and doesn’t want to get too far before it all sinks in. Chester pulls her into a tight hug. “I’ll be back. I love you. Always” he says. Grace does her best to smile with a tear in her eye. She nods. “I love you too” she says. Chester takes the hand that has the ring on it he picked out for her months ago. “Here” he says putting the ring on her left hand. He switches his ring to the other hand as well. “So they know you’re mine..and I’m yours” he says. Grace can’t hold back anymore and she lets the tears leave her eyes. He kisses her and steps off the porch. Before he leaves he turns to her one more time. “Welp, catch ya later” he says. Grace smiles at him from the step. “Catch ya later.”