#Longform Writing

[ruth-writes]

ruthswip

I still don't know what to call this so I'm just gonna call it ruthswip and tag all the posts that so I can find them later

Chapter 2: Alex's POV

Content warnings: abuse, depression

I was drunk when the hospital called. It wasn’t much, just two beers. But for someone who’d never drunk before, it wasn’t ideal. I’d only agreed to it because Aaliyah was the first person I’d met in a while whose face I didn’t want to slam a door into before I never talked to them again.

The day we met, Sam had just burst into our dorm, wearing an outfit loud enough to wake everyone in a ten-mile-radius (as always), and announced, “There’s a party tonight, and I think that girl Billie’s gonna be there.”

I’d barely given him a second glance, not letting myself get drawn away from the perfect setup I’d made on my bed. I’d managed to prop my laptop on just the right number of pillows for my neck to not get a cramp from staring at Doctor Who all evening and placed all my snacks within arm’s reach. “So?” I asked dismissively.

Sam didn’t get the hint. He never did. “What do you mean, so?” he said incredulously, walking over and hanging himself from the top bunk. “We have to figure out what to wear!”

I reluctantly paused the show, but only took out one of my earbuds. “We? I’m not going.”

Sam groaned dramatically. “Alex, what plans could you possibly have that are more important than a party with Billie there?” He emphasized her name like it was supposed to tell me something. I didn’t know her, and I hated parties. The list of things that were more important than this party could reach from me to the equator.

I knew he wouldn’t accept any reason, especially not Doctor Who which he considered ‘dumb nerdy shit’, so I sidestepped the question. “Can’t you just go on your own?”

He placed a hand over his heart and feigned being shot in the chest. “On my own? Alex! How am I supposed to talk to her without my wingman there to make me look good?”

I didn’t even hide my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. The only reason I was Sam’s ‘wingman’ was because as his roommate, I was the only person who’d put up with him. “Um, here’s a crazy idea: just go over and say hi.”

Sam rolled his eyes back at me. If we kept this up, we were gonna end up in the hospital because of fallen out eyeballs by the end of the semester. “No one does that, Alex. See, this is why you need my help. What would I even say?”

I wasn’t denying that I needed help, but I sure as hell wasn’t gonna get it from him. “You could ask her about her interests,” I suggested. “Try to find some common ground.”

That, apparently, was not helpful at all. Sam looked flabbergasted. “Alex, are you dense? I don’t want to waste my time with chit-chat. I want to fuck her.”

His unapologetic misogyny never ceased to amaze me. “Then maybe you should just tell her that,” I said sarcastically.

Sam didn’t get it. “You think so?”

“Yeah! It’s straight to the point and honest. Women love honesty these days.” I tried to lay on the sarcasm extra thick, but it was hopeless.

“See, Alex, this is why I need you to come. You just get girls.”

“I thought I had so much to learn from you,” I reminded him.

“You do! We can learn from each other! C’mon, please?” He dragged out the please until he was out of breath.

I groaned. It was clear I wasn’t getting out of this. “Fine. But I’m not carrying you home again. If you pass out, I’m leaving you there.”

“Yes!” he screamed, slapping the bed and making it shake. I winced, covering my ears. “Let’s go! You agreed, there’s no going back now!”

Yeah. My peaceful Doctor Who evening was gone for good.

--------------------

The walls were shaking from the pounding music when we entered the building. I was kind of worried the elevator would fall as we rode to the top floor, breathing a sigh of relief when we arrived, but the feeling immediately left me once the doors opened.

I let myself take a moment to assess the situation, which wasn’t great. The hall we were standing in was apparently already part of the party. People were scattered along it awkwardly, yelling at each other over the music. Most of them were swaying, some more than others. There was a beer pong table set up a few feet from the elevator, where the wasted jocks were hanging out. I made a mental not to give them a wide berth. Only three of the dorm rooms were open, making me wonder what the people in the other ones were doing. Were they holed up under their beds, wondering if it was too late to drop out without losing their already paid tuition money?

“C’mon,” Sam commanded, pulling me towards the dorm the music was coming out of. People had formed a kind of circle around a few girls, who were jumping up and down in a tight-knit group. Guys kept trying to be a part of it, but they just ended up standing on the edge, breathing down their necks awkwardly. I could perfectly imagine Sam joining them.

Right on cue, Sam shouted, “There’s Billie! Let’s go talk to her.”

I tried to object and point out that the girls were clearly not open to being hit on at the moment, but Sam had already gone ahead and was trying to force himself through the crowd. Unfortunately, he grabbed my arm and pulled me after him before I could run.

One thing about dance floors they never show in movies is how suffocating they are. Everyone is moving around, which means you have to just such up the fact that your feet are getting absolutely trampled and you’re constantly colliding with bodies that are drenched in more sweat than a football player during practice in 100-degree weather. And we weren’t just standing near the edge, we were heading towards the epicenter.

Sam immediately fell in line with the brainless, sex-obsessed guys circling the girls like vultures. But Sam wasn’t a vulture, waiting for his prey to be passed out so he could scoop it up easily. He was more like a hyena, a determined hunter. “Hey, Billie!” he yelled.

The girl with baggy pants, a striped top and her tight curls pulled back into a ponytail turned around and fixed him with an annoyed glare so terrifying I wondered if she practiced it in front of a mirror. “Yes?” she said testily.

Sam wasn’t fazed. “I’m Sam, and this is my friend Alex,” he introduced us.

Her glare moved over to me, and I gave her a small smile she didn’t return.

Sam glanced at me pointedly. “We wanted to talk to you for a second.”

Oh, right. I was supposed to say some magic words that made her so horny for him she’d fuck him in the bathroom next to people barfing. But as she looked at me know, her pissed-off gaze boring into me, I knew in my bones it was a lost cause. “Um… could you maybe… tell me where the bathroom is?” I yelled.

They both stared at me. I felt my face become even more flushed than it already was from the heat. “Um, sure, it’s just down that hall,” she pointed with her finger. “You probably passed it when you came.”

“Thanks,” I somehow stammered and yelled at the same time. I turned and fled, ignoring Sam’s incredulous expression.

Since I didn’t have anything better to do, I decided actually heading to the bathroom and hiding there for a bit didn’t seem like the worst idea. I managed to force myself through the crowd and find the door, only to discover someone who apparently had the same idea first.

She was slumped against the wall, staring at her phone. Her perfectly put together outfit didn’t match the scene. It would’ve been great for some kind of rock concert. The red plaid overall dress stood out against her dark complexion and the rest of her clothes. Under the dress was a plain black shirt and fishnet tights that led all the way to her big leather boots. Her makeup was dark, too, from her eyeshadow to even her lipstick. When she turned to look at me, there was a clacking sound from all of her jewelry clanging together.

“Oh, sorry,” I stammered, moving to close the door, but she stopped me.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t actually have to pee or anything, I’m just hiding. I can leave.”

“It’s fine, I don’t either,” I confessed. “I was looking for a place to hide, too.”

She studied me for a moment, as if she was sizing me up. “Well, in that case, why don’t you join me?”

I made my way over, awkwardly seating myself across from her in the small space. These were the moments when I wished I could be a foot shorter. Just enough to get me to a normal person’s height. We solved the problem by pulling our knees to our chests.

“Why are you hiding?” she asked.

“I just hate parties,” I told her.

“Why are you at one, then?”

“My roommate made me come,” I explained. “He wanted me to help her get into this girl’s pants, but it was pretty obvious she wasn’t into it, so I bailed and asked her where the bathroom was.”

“How noble of you,” the girl commented.

I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic in a good way or a bad way. “Thanks, I guess?” I said uncertainly.

She laughed. “You’re welcome.”

I decided to get the subject away from me. “So why are you hiding?”

She gave me a knowing smile. “I just hate parties.”

Yeah, made sense. “So you’re here because…?” I prompted.

“My best friends dragged me.”

“Well, at least it was your best friends and not some asshole the school forced you to live with.”

She frowned, scrunching her eyebrows together. “I don’t know, I’d say it’s a lot easier telling an asshole to fuck off than your friends.”

That was probably true, but I wouldn’t know. “Yeah, I don’t know why I go along with him,” I admitted.

“Maybe you should figure it out before you agree to help him harass women again,” she said flatly.

That shut me up for a bit. Maybe I wasn’t much better than Sam. “You’re right,” I said finally. “I’ll stop.”

She gave another small laugh. “Well, that’s good to hear.” There was an awkward silence until she had the mercy to break it. “So, what do you do when you’re not hiding in bathrooms?”

“Well, I’m majoring in nursing.” That was pretty much it. I didn’t have much of a life outside of school.

She tilted her head. “Are there a lot of guys doing that?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I wanted to go into the medical field, but all the extra stuff you have to do to become a doctor is just too expensive. And I really didn’t want to do residency.”

“How are you paying for your tuition?” she asked curiously.

I was slightly taken aback by the upfront question, but I didn’t mind. “My dad is helping me,” I explained, failing to mask the bitterness in my voice that was always there when he came up.

The girl picked up on it. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

I sighed, wondering how much to tell her. “Well, he might’ve made the offer after being radio silent for fourteen years, thinking it would fix everything.”

She made a face. “Damn.”

“Yeah. It beats being in even more debt, though.”

“That’s probably true,” she agreed. “Do you know how much it’s gonna be when you’re done?”

I stared at her, not knowing how to react to her directness. “Do you ask everyone you meet about their personal finances?”

She grinned. “I do, actually. I think it’s interesting. And I firmly believe we should make talking about money more normal, because making it a taboo subject stops us from fully understanding our class position and only benefits the oligarchs at the top.”

Oh, so she was a socialist. I should’ve guessed by her outfit. “How are you paying your tuition then? If you’re so comfortable talking about it.”

“I’m not a college student,” she explained without missing a beat. “I’m in dance school, and I pay for that by also giving classes there. I live with my parents, so I can save up a lot of money, too. I want to have my own studio with Billie one day, and we’re gonna run it on a socialist model.”

Of all the information she’d just thrown at me, only one part stuck. “Billie?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s one of the friends who dragged me here tonight. We’ve been friends since we were little, and we’ve both been at the studio for just as long.”

I swallowed. Fuck, the one time I actually started maybe making a new friend, Sam had to come along and ruin it.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked.

I didn’t know how or what to say to her. “Was Billie wearing a striped top today?” I asked, grimacing as I eased my way into it.

She frowned in confusion. “I think so? Why?”

I grimaced again. “I’m pretty sure she’s the girl Sam tried to hit on.”

It took a moment for what I was saying to click for her, then she doubled over laughing. “Oh, she’s gonna love when I tell her about this,” she gasped.

Yeah, I could never be seen by any of them ever again. After watching her laugh for a while, I announced, “You know what? I think I’m just gonna leave and hope Sam doesn’t kill me tomorrow.”

She sat up, putting on a straight face again. “You want to get out of here together?”

My heart skipped a beat. Regardless of the embarrassing circumstances, she was a pretty girl asking me to leave a party with her. It felt like a belated opportunity for a teenage experience I couldn’t pass up. “Sure.”

She was much better at navigating through crowds than me, making me take her hand and marching right to the eye of the storm, where Billie and unfortunately Sam still were.

“Billie!” she yelled, making her turn around. “We’re gonna leave!” She motioned to me, and when Billie looked confused, added, “We met in the bathroom!”

Billie gave a confused laugh and a thumbs up, and we left after the girl stole a couple of beers off a nearby table.

The ringing wouldn’t leave my ears, even after we’d been walking around campus for at least twenty minutes. She’d offered me a beer, which I’d taken after some hesitation. Now, I was feeling a little dizzy and almost tripped over the sidewalk.

“Whoa,” Aaliyah said. We’d learned each other’s names now, after trading numbers. “Have you ever had beer before?”

“No,” I admitted. “I don’t usually drink.”

She laughed at me. The sound was much clearer now that we were away from the loud music, letting me appreciate how nice it was. She ran ahead a bit, doing a few pirouettes that made her braids fly out behind her.

“You know, my brother’s a dancer, too,” I told her once I’d caught up.

She grabbed my hand, making me twirl her. “Yeah? Did he ever teach you anything?”

I snorted. “God, no. I’m pretty sure I was born with two left feet.”

She faced me, then reached up to put her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. “We’ll see about that. Put your hands on my hips.”

I did, and it made us close enough that our bodies were touching. If I tripped now, it wouldn’t only be because of the alcohol.

“Okay, now put your left foot forward,” she instructed. I stepped on her boot and she giggled. “That’s your right foot.”

“Right. Sorry.” I managed to put my left foot forward.

“Good! Okay, now put your right foot to the side.”

Through stumbles and giggles, we got a rhythm going. It was starting to be kind of fun, until we were interrupted by someone shouting, “Hey, lovebirds!”

We turned to see Billie and another person with blue hair waving at us. “Oh, God,” Aaliyah groaned and stepped away from me as they came closer. “Why are you guys leaving so early?” she called to them.

“We’re not!” the blue-haired person yelled. “We’re just taking a break!”

Then they were standing in front of us, and I had to awkwardly say, “Hi,” to Billie.

“Hey again,” she grinned.

I shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry about earlier.”

She shrugged it off. “It’s okay. It was funny.”

Okay, kill me now.

“It’s Alex, right?” blue hair asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m Riley. They/them pronouns,” they introduced themselves.

My phone saved me from having to say anything else. I glanced at it, expecting it to be Sam calling, but it was an unknown number. Immediately, thousands of the worst possible scenarios popped into my head. Was it about Jamie? What if they were calling to tell me he’d had a suicide attempt? Or worse, not just an attempt? What if he hadn’t even needed to do that, because John had just killed him? “I’d better take this,” I told the group and stepped away.

“Alexander Taylor?” a man’s voice asked.“Yes?” I replied, my heart jumping into my throat.

“This is St. George’s hospital. We’re calling about your brother, James Brown.”

[deadpresidents]

The recent question about your writing process makes me curious: do you pre-plan any posts? For example, I think today is the day Jimmy Carter passes John Nance Garner as longest-living president or vice president...do you have something ready to go? Similarly, I know major news outlets have their coverage of major figures' passing mostly queued up and ready to go -- did you have a similar process for your posting around George HW Bush's death (and, given that President Carter is on hospice, of course, is that something you're working on now?)

Good question!

There was a fascinating story related to your question in the New York Times after Fidel Castro died in 2016 about how Fidel's obituary had been written in advance and just edited with new information or pertinent facts for decades. When he actually died, they were able to make some tweaks and add specific information to the advance obit that over a dozen journalists had worked on over the years. The first draft of Fidel's NYT obituary was written in 1959 when Castro led the Cuban Revolution and the Times just kept working on it for nearly 60 years. When he did die, they were able to quickly publish an in-depth obit that was like 8,000 words long. And, as you said, most major news organizations have advance obituaries ready for leading figures, so that they can move quickly when something finally happens.

(Saturday Night Live even had a famous sketch about preparing advance obituaries where Tom Brokaw (Dana Carvey) was taping numerous reports about Gerald Ford dying in increasingly ridiculous ways.)

Anyway, to answer your question, I do not usually write anything in advance to be published when something specific happens. There have been a few occasions where I've worked on several different pieces to publish on the anniversary of certain historic events. For example, I kind of did that last month for the 100th anniversary of Warren G. Harding's death. But even in that case, I wrote most of the stuff as I posted it and the things I had ready to post ahead of time were mainly the contemporary photographs or the screenshots of newspaper headlines that I had ready to go in my Drafts so I could easily post them.

I think the only time I wrote a significant amount of content ahead of time to publish on a specific date was on November 22, 2013, which was the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination. I wrote several longform essays (this was when I still knew how to write!) about the Kennedy Assassination that I published on that day because I knew that there would be even more people interested in the subject than usual on that specific day and wanted to be sure I took advantage of it.

But, other than that, I'm usually just writing stuff as I go along.

[oldfilmsflicker]

Obviously I will never leave Tumblr, but if you used to like my old long form blog (Cinema-Fanatic.com) or my YouTube videos, please take a gander at my newsletter, which sends my posts directly to your inbox. It’s mostly about female directors, but there is a lot more as well. 

https://oldfilmsflicker.substack.com

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[theminisonproject]

It was the way the tree's roots snuck out of the ground at irregular intervals... 

by Kristin Kozlowski, pg. 28

Check out the TMP Magazine archives to read more like this from issue 1! 

[arlessia-blessed-eye]

[Only one's nature-Grains of sand]

Main post url: https://twitter.com/DreifusMontauc/status/1598048518530543617

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The minutes crawled by. Painfully. Walking through the streets as the Sekiseigumi worked to investigate the Garlean spy's death in the Shiokaze, Lyse & I soon arrived at the offices as we ran in quickly.

Bursting into the back office of Hancock, all present turned to look at us as I caught my breath in relief. I had held it since we left the tavern-keeping alert to potential threats.

"You look harried. What happened?" Asked Akavi, walking over to greet me with a measure of worry.

"A spy tasked to kill either me or Lyse. I caught onto her before she made her move however, luring her into the Shiokaze to deal with her. But Lyse has found a lead." I replied, at which she nodded thoughtfully before gesturing to the rest of the group talking to hancock.

Walking over to join the conversation, Sama looked to me with a question upon her face. Nodding to confirm it, I cleared my throat as Alphinaud finished relaying his & Alisaie's findings.

"...We spoke with a number of merchants and captains at the southern piers. But alas..."  Nodding to greet me, he continued after a moment. "Several recognized Gosetsu & confirmed that he had been searching for a vessel to deliver him to Othard. None, however-made any mention of Lady Yugiri. Arlessia & Lyse? Did your investigations bear fruit?" He asked-looking to us.  Taking a beginning breath, I looked around the group.

"To begin, we did find a lead that could be promising. However, the Garleans do have agents in the streets. We crossed paths with one who seemed keen to open the ribs of one of us." I began, at which Hancock's face hardened.

"How certain are you? Did you...?" He began, at which I looked to him with a sharpened but confirming look.

"I made it quick & staged it as best as I could. She also carried a Garlean Sigil in her kimono's pocket, which I disposed of in the canal. I'm certain." I replied to him. 

"But to speak of this lead...Lyse, mind explaining? You were the one to talk to him." I then said, giving her reign to step forwards.

"Arlessia & I had split up to take care of our respective leads, and before we had the altercation with that spy I was directed to a...Namazu?"  As she said this, everyone's attention was firmly on her.

"He goes by the name of Gyodo. When I approached him with the sketch of Yugiri & Gosetsu, he claimed that he seen both of them & aided them across." She finished, Alphinaud musing on the possibility.

"How fortuitous."

"Not the word I would have chosen, Master Alphinaud." Hancock said, with Tataru nodding in the wings. Looking to Lyse, she sighed before speaking.

"Did you agree to his terms outright, Lyse?" She asked, at which Lyse paused to think.

"Err...I told him we had to discuss it."

"Yes...that too would've been a misstep on their part, but it is not what troubles me most. Gyodo and his brethren are not renowned for their generosity. Rather-they are disdained as scheming moneylenders, ever eager to turn a profit from others' misfortune." Hancock interjected.

"I figured as much too, Lyse described him to me as being very eager to 'assist'. But-" I said before looking back up to Hancock with a hardened look. "Everyone else we questioned stated that Gosetsu was alone. Only Gyodo claims to have met both him & Yugiri. We must make sure."

"I suppose it's just possible that Gosetsu made inquiries by himself, and only called upon Yugiri once he had found a willing captain...?" Alisaie mused as Hancock chuckled lightly.

"it is equally possible-if not more likely-that you are being deceived." He said gesturing to me.

"Do not forget that there are parties present in Kugane with agendas which may run contrary to yours. The viceroy was once a spy herself, as I recall. I should be surprised if she did not have countless agents here in her employ-all eager to prove themselves to their new master."

Opening his arms wide, he continued with purpose. "What better way to do so than by delivering her the heads of foreign insurgents?"

"You may be right about him-But if Gyodo's working for the Empire, who's to say he didn't try the same trick on Yugiri and Gosetsu?" Lyse bit back. Sighing heavily, she looked to me with imploring eyes.

"I mean, if he did, he might know where they are. And if he succeeded, they might be in trouble! We don't know IF he'll betray us. I say we take the risk...even in spite of all the facts laid out before us."

"So, if it's a trap, we'll spring it and deal with the consequences-Bene. We take him prisoner and you punch him till he tells us the truth." I said to her before turning back.

"Lyse, Alisaie & I shall go as the ones needing his services. Alphinaud-follow at a discreet distance."

Looking over to Sama, I nodded to her confidently.

"Sama, you & Akavi watch the offices & make sure Tataru comes to no harm, can I trust that to your capable hands?" I asked, which she silently nodded in agreement.

"Alright. Eyes open & guard up!" I said, walking to the exit. Throwing the doors wide, I looked to the twins.

"If things go south, remember-we cannot attack the Sekiseigumi. No matter what. We run & evade capture until we can safely make it back to the office. I can give some pointers to minimizing your presence if you'd like." I stated.

Nodding to me, Alisaie sighed as we walked down the stairs out front.

"Might as well to kill time, maybe." She said, at which I broke out into a smirk. "It'll be fine, Ali! We have each other to rely on!" I replied, pulling her into a friendly side hug as I passed on my wisdom.

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This very moment, in the fringes of Gyr Abania... _~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

"Hold the line! By his Radiance, hold the bloody line! There's only two of them!" These words would be sacrosanct as blood splashed across the cold dirt & sand.

"Why won't you just die!?" Snarled a Garlean Centurion as he launched forwards in a lunging stab aimed at Hemmet's torso.

"Because you're a dogshit fighter-that's why!" He rebuked, dodging the thrust narrowly before lunging forward with his flaming fists, the impacts flaring out in small fiery bursts.

As he & the centurion fought brutally, Gerhild was struggling with the only other surviving soldier from this patrol, her arms wrapped around her foe's neck as she tried to strangle him. 

"No, *ACH* Let me go! I surrender!" He coughed, scratching at her armored gauntlets futilely.

"Not you...not after what men like you have done..." Was all she breathed before taking a hold upon the man's neck with one hand & his jaw with the other, snapping his neck with a loud CRACK. She then let the man fall limp before her, his body soiling the dirt it fell upon.

At that very moment as well, Hemmet dodged a slash aimed at his knees before replying with a spinning roundhouse to the centurion's arm. Aimed to take his foe's head off, consider the Garlean's surprise when his elbow then shattered, his arm falling limp from the elbow down.

"AGGGGGHHHHHH!"

He screamed, his other hand shooting to support his shattered arm before he then took a stomp to the knee, caving it in with another crack & making him reel backwards.

"NO! NO! STOP! STOOOOO-"

The centurion screamed his last words desperately before the monk crushed his helmet with a stomp. Breathing heavily as Hemmet raged, stomping again & again, Gerhild slowed in exhaustion...blind to a garlean Hemmet had knocked out earlier rose to his feet & began to stumble towards her.

Reaching for his claws upon his beltline, the conscript breathed in to roar as his chest burst open.

His roar twisting in his throat to a garbled & mangled scream, he fell limp as the broad black blade impaling him pushed further before being ripped out. Turning, Gerhild hissed to Hemmet, finally ceasing his outburst & spun to regard the newcomers.

"There you are. We have been waiting for you."

"Who're you?" Asked Gerhild, but Hemmet spat in disgust.

"They're HER allies." He seethed, at which Harjatan chuckled whilst regarding the garlean next to him impaled upon Gerhild's spear.

"My-such NAKED distaste-You don't even know us, chum. Relax." He said, looking back to him.

"Why should I!? I care not what SHE has to say!" He replied, making Gerhild look to him in concern.

"And yet, here we are-saving the life of your companion...we seek only for you to hear us out. Preferably back at the reach."

"We're going nowhere with you." Hemmet spat instantly.

Looking to Gerhild, Harjatan flashed his winning smile.

"What say you, Lady Gerhild? Would you rather stay here & debate your situation with the coming garlean reinforcements? Or shall we help you get home after a long mission in return for a audience?" He asked-catching her ear.  Sighing, she shook her head before looking to the Viera.

"You have a point...I owe you my life. We shall hear what you need to say...but only once we reach home. We cannot afford to fail our mission now...we BOTH know that." She said, her jab at her close friend making him groan.

Smiling broadly, Harjatan laughed happily & looked to his sister.

"Sister, shall you take the van? We leave in the direction of Vira Nilya. The Ananta shall see us home." Nodding to him, Yelle silently took to the side paths that led to the Ananta settlement.

"Shall we?"

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ 

Back in Kugane...

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"Well, I'm extremely bored...and this catfish still hasn't arrived. How long did he say he'd be, Lyse?"

"He didn't say...stay the course, right?"

"...aye. Gods, I don't like this." As Alisaie & Lyse talked idly, I looked around.

"Stay calm. Readiness is paramount." I sighed before hearing an approaching squeaking sound. Looking over, I tapped Lyse & Alisaie.

"That's him." Lyse said upon seeing the fish-like being.

"Endless & most sincere apologies to you & yours-yes, yes. This way, this way-Quickly now!"

Exchanging a few glances, Alisaie shrugged as Lyse took the first few steps to follow the Namazu. I hesitated a moment as I looked at the target of our focus.

I did not trust him...but I trusted that he had information. So, after a moment I began to follow my friends loosely.

As I took after them however, suddenly I heard the whistling of a blade slicing the air before it thudded heavily into the bridge. Looking down at it, I scanned the area. Nothing across the nearby rooftops from what I could see. Sighing heavily, I knelt down & pulled the kunai free.

It was a large blade...unwieldly & rather blunt. Flipping it around, however I came to realize what was it's purpose.

TRAP

The message was carved into the face of the kunai, the styling rough & to the point. Looking at the hilt, there was a stamp of a Sparrow made in the forging.

I had been wondering about the presence of the House of Sparrows in Kugane...but it would seem they already knew I had arrived in their home & were watching me. Tucking the blade into my belt, I ran to meet my allies quickly, hoping to pass along the news before it was sprung.

Reaching them as the group entered the boat launch at the base of the Airship jetty, I pulled the blade free & placed my hand upon Alisaie's shoulder-looking to me, I gathered her attention to the message. Nodding to me after a moment, she set her jaw as I did the same with Lyse.

She sighed heavily as she looked to it, nodding to me with a look of dull disappointment as I hid the blade once more right as Gyodo turned.

"So...what makes you for Doma, strangers?" He asked, at which the three of us ignored, looking for the waiting ambush. Shrugging, he turned back.

Leading us onto the boat launch, I cracked my neck & knuckles as my eyes maintained their cold glow-my aether ready to be channeled for combat. Looking to my allies, Alisaie sighed. 

"Oh, would you look at that...your ship was stolen, I take it?" She asked as Gyodo came to a stop.

"The ship, the ship...So very sorry to inform you, yes, yes. Long before was it pledged to another." He said, confirming the warning we had received. Turning to face us, he suddenly breathed in sharply.

"To me, to me! These ones are for Doma!" He yelled.

The trap then slammed shut.

Turning to look up the ramp, we found us looking at a Garlean squad walking out from within the building. Glancing to Lyse, I shrugged with a smirk as she closed her eyes.

"I knew it couldn't be this simple..." Opening them again, she then turned to Gyodo-her intent clear.

"Nothing personal, yes, yes? Just business." He said, looking up as she walked up to him, a dead look on her face as she gazed down on the betrayer.

"Then business is about to take a turn for the worse..." She answered, quickly hauling off with a kick to the Namazu's ribcage.  Rising into the air as his Garlean masters watched in stupefaction & he thrashed unconscious, the catfish then fell back to earth, thudding heavily upon Lyse's shoulder as she groaned at the smell.

"Ugh...Come on, let's find a way out of here!" She said, turning me & Alisaie.

"Oh, we shall. Dare to compete, Alisaie?" I said, laughing heartily as the Garleans flew into formation-a firing squad lining us up in their sights.

"I doubt they want to." Retorted Alisaie, drawing her rapier.

"You have one chance to surrender, filthy savages!" The captain said.

"You garleans really need to work on your pitch!" I yelled, drawing my fangs in a flourish. Laughing sickly, the Captain gripped his blade strongly.

"Take atleast one of them alive. We need to pry their secrets away for the viceroy." He said to his men, the command on his lips.

"FRY, IJIN SCUM!"

Stopping my charge to look to the source of the cry, a shower of violet lightning arced through the rain, the conductivity of the Garlean's armor sealing their doom. Their screams & cries drowned in the crackle of energy & searing of flesh, the light then faded.

Looking up to the overhead bridge, I was surprised to see Ryouta Kyōgoku up above, his arm crackling still with the potential energy of his Raiton.

"BLESSED-EYE! GET OUT OF THERE! THE SEKISEIGUMI SHALL COME!" He yelled before running off in a flash of smoke.

"MY THANKS!"

Sheathing my daggers, I walked over to the smoking bodies to look them over as the others relaxed...Alphinaud sprinting over in a hurry.

"Arlessia! Whoever that was spoke true-the Sekiseigumi barracks' alarm has rung!" He reported, the ringing in the distance finally reaching us.  After turning to him & nodding, I sighed.

"We expected this. We'll split up, make them spread thin. Remember what I've taught you...and if you get caught..." I reached into my pack, producing what smoke pellets I had left. "Throw one of these to the ground & run for cover."

As the twins took seven, the remaining seven I held onto.

"Aye. Be safe, my friend." He said, taking his sister & running through the launch next to us. Looking to Lyse, I smirked & extended a fist.

"Ready to run how we do in Limsa, Lyse? You'll catch on quickly."

"Aye-Let's go!"

Running off beneath the docks, the Sekiseigumi would arrive but minutes late, finding only charred scoring upon the cobbles & cold bodies.

"Fan out! They can't have gone far!"

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

In a quiet corner of Rhalgr's Reach...

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Listening to the tale from the twin Viera, Hemmet's foot tapped restlessly as Gerhild processed what had happened in their absence, her hand drifting to his shoulder idly.

"By Rhalgr..." Gerhild mused as Yelle paused.

"Aye...it's a lot to take in." The dark knight agreed, solemn.

"The attack was only stopped after Zenos retreated...having skewered Arlessia to the ground, leaving her bloody & tattered body as a message...of the price of defiance." Harjatan finished, Gerhild shaking her head in disbelief.

"The reach would have fallen if not for her..."

Hemmet growled as Gerhild mused. Looking up, the dragoon looked remorseful. 

"Where is...?"

She began, which Yelle smiled warmly.

"She's recovered. It was touch & go for the first few hours, but no sooner she was awake, she proposed a plan to Commander Kemp & General Aldynn."  Nodding at his sister's assessment he looked to the two.

"She's bound for Doma, in the far east with the rest of our order. She believes if the region were to be roused into rebellion once more the XIIth will be forced to divide their attention...by proxy dividing that of Zenos."

"She's abandoned the fight once again." Hemmet said, finally looking up for the first time since this started. Harjatan shook his head as Yelle spoke.

"Hardly. Conrad was ready to surrender before she brought up this plan. She restored his hope. You give her too little credit."

Sighing at his look of hatred, she kneaded her temple.

"Arlessia would ask that you assist us in keeping the people beyond the reach safe until the time comes that we turn the tide. Including her aunt, who lives in Ala Ghanna." She said, Gerhild's eyes lowering as she processed. Gripping his chair, Hemmet's jaw tightened as she spoke.

"There is only so much Resistance regulars can do in the face of the oppression these people face...but they trust you. And we would make them see tomorrow. They've suffered enough."

"You insult me."

"What?" Yelled replied.

As he spoke, Gerhild's gaze moved to her friend.

"You don't know. You don't know what WE have suffered because of her & her family. I humored this because you saved Gerhild...but I will not entertain this farce any longer. Ala Mhigo will be freed...but she will NEVER be welcome."

"Actually...we have an idea." Harjatan replied, which made Hemmet snarl in response.

"Do you?! See this scar?! This was carved at the ripe old age of nine! Because I had been HER FRIEND! They accused me of aiding in her disappearance...& I only survived because of my parents...They were then killed in a riot two days later...because HER MOTHER said that the garleans gunned her daughter down-She told her deception to none. Not even us as she watched me get thrown into the gutter by the Imperial resettlement initiative."

Sighing heavily, he leaned back.

"I still smell the scent of the pies mother made for me & my sister that morning...We were about to dig in when our father was thrown through the window, bloodied & dying. He was walking home from working in the palace as a custodian. Then a firebomb came through the window."  His eyes closed for some time, then he sighed once more before opening them again & looking to the twins.

"From what she took from me...I will reprise." Turning with a look of concern, Gerhild hesitantly spoke.

"Hem-you know that loss doesn't define you...but it's been twenty years."

...

"You're thinking of killing her aunt, aren't you?" She finally asked, which Harjatan & Yelle tensed up at.

"You know we can't let you do that." Harjatan said, at which Gerhild looked surprised someone shared her denial. Buoyed by this, she spoke again.

"You mustn't. Please, Hem."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" He then suddenly screamed, his ears flying back as he spun to her.

"SHE...SHE MUST PAY! SHE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!? YOUR PARENTS SHARED THE SAME FATE AS MINE!!" Surprised, Gerhild took three steps back slowly, her face falling sharply.

Stammering, she shook her head in the face of his fury. Then...the tears began to flow.

"I-I..." She stuttered, but he rolled his eyes.

"'I-I!' Ever since that day in the peaks, you've been distant & hesitant! What happened to the commitment we swore to each other?!"

Silence.

After he said it, it could be seen on his face. He knew he had fucked up. 

"Wait...Hild...wait..."

He breathed heavily as her mask fell away. It was clear she had been working up to forgiving Arlessia- & the man closest to her just kicked her over the edge. Because he couldn't let it go.

She plunged a hand in a pouch as the twins watched in shock as she threw an object at him, which he caught.

"FUCKING ASSHOLE! I found PEACE alongside YOU! I hoped...maybe we could fix what was between us & her-BUT YOU CAN'T LET GO OF YOUR FUCKING HATE! WELL, I'M DONE!" She cried.

"SHE'S ALL YOU FUCKING TALK ABOUT WHEN YOU'RE NOT BEATING IMPERIALS INTO A BLOODY PULP!" She screamed, turning away from everyone as her mascara ran. Her hands quaked...shook her head-then began to run.

"YOUR HATE, YOUR POISON...I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE!" She spat with finality.  As the woman ran, her sobs echoing in the distance, Hemmet's tail dropped listlessly as he watched her leave.

"Don't...go..." He breathed, eliciting a groan from Yelle who looked solemn still. 

"I'll talk to her, Harjatan. Say your piece with the fuckup here." She said, departing. As Yelle walked to catch up to Gerhild, Hemmet brought up his hand holding what she had thrown.

His eyes widened even more when he saw that it was a betrothal ring. A token she had from her mother...discarded in the face of...

"What...have I done..." He said, his lip quivering.

"So-How does your crusade feel now? I was very similar to you when my sister & I were exiled from our tribe in the shadow of the Skatay mountains...angry...feeling robbed. I pushed Yelle away...nearly walked alone into the wilderness & most likely would have died in the process."

"But as I stomped away from my sickly sister who had yet to come into her own, a garlean came across our camp whilst running from the tribe's wood warders. He'd only one thing on his mind...when I heard her scream, I sprinted back & unleashed what I had been cursed with on him."  Tilting his head as he paused, he sucked from air between his teeth.

"I know it's not exactly like what you're suffering now...but my point stands. I hurt her. You were hurt. But instead of healing, you kept that wound fresh & let it fuel you because you didn't KNOW what to do."

"You made your choices-now you must live with them & learn to move past this petty bullshit. Nobody can do that for you. You can forget about the offer made. You're unfit...and from the looks of it, about to break completely.”

“Good luck with your breakdown." He said with finality.

However, on the other side of the reach, Gerhild fell to the earth heavily, wailing in despair at the missed chance of reconciliation...and her love being used as fuel for Hemmet's hatred. She clawed at her head, the feeling that her head was about to explode consuming her.

She didn't even notice when Yelle stopped behind her cautiously.

"I'm sorry to disturb you...are you okay?" The viera asked, taking a position next to the dragoon as she tried to rise to her feet, only to fall back to the earth again, her lance falling to the ground as Yelle sat.

"I...I don't know what to do. I he's all I had...for so, so long. But one of my dearest friends reappears...ALIVE...before me! And finally I can envision a life for us when we're free...I can't..." She breathed, a feeling Yelle knew well.

"You feel like you're drowning. I know."

As Gerhild's sniffles & sobs lessened somewhat, Yelle looked to her blade.

"I recently lost my only love due to the machinations of an Ishgardian noble. If I could cry...I would be. But the body cannot maintain feelings like hate & despair forever before course correcting."

"What did you do?" Gerhild asked quietly, earning a chuckle from Yelle.

"I mourned. I honor him with every swing of my blade. But what really helped me was Arlessia & our mutual friends. Their support kept me above the waterline until the tide drew back." Yelle said with a smile.

"One day I'll die...and I'll see him again. I'm happy with that. It was a reality I knew a long time ago, being us Viera are extremely long lived. But...your love isn't dead...as much as it feels like it is. Don't writ him off yet, but he needs time to understand he MUST change."

"In short: would you rather burn bridges...or build a home where your dearest could be at peace? If you seek the latter, then we are allies. We but seek to return Arlessia's home to her."

Gerhild was silent for minutes as she looked upon her spear-the shaft coated in dried vitae.

"How goes things?" Harjatan asked, walked up slowly.

"I've said my piece...what comes next, it's up to our friend here." Yelle answered, at which they both looked to her as Gerhild rose quietly. Taking a few steps away, Gerhild sighed before turning back, drawing her spear.

"I will not have it said that the Fang of Onyx shied away from her debts. When do we begin?"

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ 

Kugane, some few minutes later... 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

 "Come out while you can! The longer you hide, the more severe your punishment will be!"

As the Sekiseigumi blade walked from the alleyway, I sighed, relaxing from pressing myself to the shadows.

"He's moving off. We should be clear to get back to the Ruby Bazaar...if we keep quiet. How're you doing, carrying the package?" I asked, the 'package' referring to Gyodo. Rubbing her shoulder for a moment, she sighed.

"The Namazu is heavier than he looks...and smells horrendous." She answered-dropping back down as another Sekiseigumi appeared at the mouth of the alley before turning back in a hurry.

"You've been in a situation like this before?" Looking over to her, I sighed lightly as the first that came to mind was the Bloody Banquet.

"Aye...there was one time I infiltrated a castrum to rescue some friends of mine-truly was a tight exit for that particular mission." I said, her laughing at my reference to our history.

"I was thinking of something from your time as a rogue, not Castrum Centri!" She jabbed back at me.

"Fine, fine. I've had more than my fair share being hunted whilst on the job...but that's enough for now. We have an opening. Follow me!" I said, jumping onto the outcropping.

Sprinting over the small rooftop, we cut through the gap between the buildings & over the back of the fence to the Thavnairian embassy. Landing quietly, I spun as Lyse landed next to me, the two of us cutting towards the Ruby Bazaar.

As we approached however, I heard voices.

"Wait!" I whispered, stopping Lyse as we approached the steps. Gesturing to my ears, I pointed up the stairs & gestured for her to stay.

"Voices?" She asked quietly as I quickly climbed up the ramp. Peeking over the top of it, I spotted over fifteen Sekiseigumi Blades outside.

"Shit." I mused, pushing down quietly & quickly. Standing upon reaching the bottom of the ramp, I sighed. "The Sekiseigumi is outside."

"What?! What now?"

"We need find somewhere to hold out...but where..." I explained to Lyse, the open question answered by a set of heavy steps. Drawing my fangs, Lyse cracked her knuckles alongside me as we spun to face the source.

"Wait!" the thick voice said, the source being a being that looked like a walking tortoise.

"Stay your arms! I can lead you to your friends!" He said, holding his hand out warily. Exchanging a glance with Lyse, I conceded we had no other options. Looking back to the Kojin, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Fine. But if you betray us, I'll use your shell as a shield." I said, my promise not hampering his nod of support.

"We must cross the market! Quickly now!"

Helping Lyse heft the Namazu back unto her shoulder, we sprinted behind our shelled guide quickly, the lucky that the Sekiseigumi was preoccupied whilst we crossed in open view. Running into the alleyway, he waved for us to get in front of him.

"Take the stairs down to the left!"

Following his directions, we quickly ran down, our footsteps clicking against the cobbles. Upon reaching the halfway point, he caught up.

"I found your friends not far from here & they told me of your troubles. They should be just behind these steps." He said, his tone friendly.

"Why help us?" I asked, dubious about his motives.

"I can explain all later...but for now, let us get to safety!" He responded, a sentiment that I couldn't disagree with. But as we neared the bottom, Alisaie poked her head around the bannister.

"Arlessia! Lyse! Back here!"

Quickly running into the hideaway, Lyse dropped the Namazu heavily as I pulled Alisaie into a friendly handshake & Alphinaud into a hug.

"There you are! I knew you'd get away!" I said happily.

"Thank the Twelve you made it! I feared our Kojin friend might not find you in time." As Alphinaud said this, I noticed the Kojin look up the stairs. Turning back, he got everyone's attention.

"Everything is going to be alright, trust me." He began, a shout making him look back up. "For now, stay hidden & quiet. Understood?" He said resolutely before leaving. Watching him walk up the stairs, I watched on as he walked boldly out into the open, right into a rushing Sekiseigumi patrol.

"Clear the road! Clear the road!" They demanded. "You there, Kojin! We seek four ijin-one a brutish woman carrying an unconscious Namazu. Have you seen them?"

Everyone held their breath as silence reigned, save Lyse. She stepped forwards at the 'Brutish Woman' comment, Alphinaud stopping her quietly with his arm as Gyodo twitched, his bell ringing. As if he heard it, the Kojin immediately spoke to cover it.

"Four foreigners, you say? Ah, yes! Very rude they were, making no apology as they barged past. They went that way, I think." He continued, pointing the Sekiseigumi away from us.

"Many thank, good sir!" The squad leader replied. Turning to his men, his face twisted. "With me! They cannot have gone far!"

Watching as they ran off, our new ally smirked to himself before descending back down the stairs where he came. 

He led them off...why?" Alphinaud mused, at which I suddenly recognized him. 

"Wait, he was in the Shiokaze when we arrived. He must want something in return."

"You're not far off, my good lady. But for now, all is well. The Sekiseigumi will not return this way for sometime, I should think. You are of the East Aldenard Trading Company, yes? Come with me. I know a safer way." Looking to my friends, them shrugging in acceptance, I nodded.

"Very well. Lead the way....I'm sorry, I don't think you've given your name." I said, realizing this mid sentence. Laughing to himself a moment, he nodded.

"Ah, how remiss of me. I am known as Soroban. Now, follow." He said, leading us once Lyse had Gyodo back upon her shoulder.

And it was indeed a quick & efficient way back to the office. We would be walking through the doors in a few minutes. Nodding to Akavi & Sama, who were up in spots that afforded them visibility of the Bazaar's approach, we quickly beelined for the entrance, Hancock meeting us.

"You are returned-and with guests, I see." The merchant said. Throwing Gyodo down to the floor roughly, Lyse shrugged.

"Our meeting went about as well as expected-we've brought the Namazu who thought to betray us. When he wakes up, we'll see what he knows about Yugiri & Gosetsu."  Almost as if in reply, the target of our conversation twitched.

"You sure you haven't given him brain damage?" I teased, Lyse shooting me a glance as I chuckled.

"Well done you. When I saw the Sekiseigumi out in force, I did begin to worry, but I see my fears were misplaced." As Hancock said this with a small round of applause, Lyse shyly shrunk back with a scoff.

"Actually, if it weren't for Soroban, we might not have gotten away..." She replied our focus turning to our new friend.

"'Twas my pleasure." He replied with a friendly wave. But as he said this, Alphinaud looked to the Kojin.

"Yet I must ask, Soroban:why would you deceive the Sekiseigumi to help us-foreigners of whom you know naught."

"Why out of the kindness of my heart...is what I would like to say, but my motives are not so pure." Soroban replied. Tilting his head towards Hancock, he spoke.

"I chanced to witness your meeting with Hancock at the Shiokaze, and saw a opportunity."

"An opportunity?" Asked Hancock, eliciting a nod from Soroban.

"Like many, I came to Kugane as a trader to make my fortune. Familiar, is it not?"  Once Hancock nodded in understanding, Soroban continued.

"Kojin of the Red may serve the Empire as mercenaries, but Kojin of the Blue walk a different path. Regretfully, most here would rather not meet our gaze-much less do business."

"Strange, considering the port's reputation."  Nodding at my sentiment, he the continued his pitch.

"So I seek the custom of those less predisposed to dismiss us outright. Namely, the East Aldenard Trading Company." He finished.

"Quid pro quo, is it? Well, there is no denying that we owe you a debt. What say you, Hancock?" Alphinaud asked. Chuckling to himself, Hancock flashed a warm smile.

"Rest assured, Master Soroban, in matters of trade the company does not discriminate. We would be honored to hear your proposal."

"I promise you will not regret this, good sir!" Soroban responded, gesturing respectfully to him. Turning to the rest of us, Soroban looked to Alphinaud.

"Ah, yes-you sought passage across the Ruby Sea, did you not? I have a ship you can use."

"You do? Well, then! Far be it from us to refuse! You have our deepest thanks." Alphinaud replied, surprised.

"And you mine!"

Taking a deep breath as everyone began to talk amongst themselves, I stepped forward to talk with Hancock.

"Hancock...we received early confirmation of the deception, I would ask you something."

"Ask away, my dear!" He replied, his dark purple eyes moving to the kunai as I drew it. Pointing to the stamp, I looked hard into his eyes behind his Pince-nez. "The House of Sparrows. I would like to ask of them." I said, at which he looked to me.

"Let us move to the back. What I know isn't meant for the open." He replied. As we all filtered inside, the wait began. The wait for our Namazu charge to awaken from the blunt force trauma he'd endured, so we could pry what HE knew from his oily hide.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I hope you enjoyed this transcription of yesterday’s post if you’re still reading this far, this is how I’ll do things from now on on here (even though my wrist is killing me now from moving the screenshots down after adding them T^T lmao)

I hope your day is grand ^-^

As a final note, for those who are unfamiliar with the OCs Hemmet Tatch & Gerhild Steele that featured prominently in this post, they are vigilante specialists of the Ala Mhigan Resistance forces-

The Last Fist (Hemmet-’Fist’ Referring to the ‘Fists of Rhalgr’...I wonder what Widargelt would think of that.)

And

The Fang of Onyx (Gerhild-she was trained in the arts of Ishgard’s Order of the Knights Dragoon by a travelling former member, who gave her his own soul crystal.).

They are also Arlessia’s childhood friends from before her mother smuggled her from the capitol. As it was said, once she disappeared & the lie told to cover the tracks of her daughter’s escape, they lost everything & were thrown unto the gutter in/after the clash between the populace & the Imperials.

In the wake of the riot & the loss of their parents, Gerhild & Hemmet would come to rely on only each other for many years. It would only be natural for them to garner feelings for each other...even if for one of them it always took a backseat to his pain. His wounded spirit.

When I started writing their characters long ago, I wanted them being introduced to be as to Arlessia & the main story as two different paths converging in the middle of their stories. We don’t know what they’ve done unless they tell or show us. I look forward to unveiling what is to come for these two in the future.

[longreads]

In this new Longreads essay, Megan Marz asks: why does the literary world still hold online writing at arm’s length? 

While it’s become banal to observe that online life is fully enmeshed with the rest of the world, an imaginary curtain separates online writing from the rest of U.S. literature. It’s time to take that curtain down.

People like to say the internet speeds reading up, but a personal blog, read in real time, can slow a story’s pace down to the timescale of life; the thickest book in existence can be read in less calendar time. Not even the author knew when a blog would end, which is what made it feel so alive.

Read Megan Marz’s “Poets in the Machine” on Longreads.

[abbysbasement]

Slightly canon divergent AU where firefly!doctor!Abby discovers a bitten reader with partial immunity to the infection, ‘researching’ the lengths of her sickness by performing various physical exams and discovering that the growths of mycelium on their brain cause behavioural changes tied to physical exertion/sexual arousal. Abby restrains her on a metal slab, covering her head with a full cover helmet, and pinning arms to her back with long, anti-scratch mittens, and begins testing her new pet with fingers, her tongue, and the ‘Trainer,’ a stationary fucking machine that she runs all night. Abby discovers that when The Subject’s mental stress levels peak, the infection flares up, temporarily turning her into a feral, ultraviolent runner, set only on satisfying the primal, carnal craving of extremely rough sex. 

[aka-indulgence]

Meteor Shower

Finally got around to writing a Ramattra thing that isn’t based on an AU in my head that requires an introduction first jfhksdjfs I want him to treat me special 😭

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night to Ramattra’s affections. A few minutes awake wouldn’t hurt…

(Reader/Ramattra)

(Also there are suggestive themes in here so be warned! Not explicit but theres some steamy kissing scenes >//<)

—————

You were slowly drawn from your sleeping state.

You were warm. Tired. The blanket was heavy on you, and you felt the most comfortable you’ve ever been in a long time.

You slowly blinked your eyes opened, feeling like a herculean task in of itself. Something was pressing against your cheek insistently, pecking you over and over. A weight shifted over you, and you felt yourself getting squished against warm metal. It takes a few seconds of your brain booting up to realize that that pressure on your face was a mouth, kissing you over and over.

Ramattra couldn’t kiss like a human would. But every time he made contact with your cheek, your nose, your forehead, he would make a gentle smooching sound. Even when you turned to speak to him, he didn’t stop his kissing assault.

“R… Ram… mm…” you mumble as he kisses your lips over and over.

“Go back to sleep darling.” He drawls. Despite not having a throat or an organic voicebox to speak out of, he still sounded huskier than usual. He cradles the side of your head, his cable hair draped over your collarbone as he insistently presses his mouth against your cheek, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Hard to go to sleep… When a big omnic man keeps kissing me like this,”

“Mmm… I’m sorry, sweetness.” He purrs, sounding none too apologetic as he moves down your jaw and presses his mouth to your neck, and you moan quietly.

He pulls you more insistently to be under him as he continues to kiss you, and you feel your cheeks getting warm, when you feel a bit of his tongue come into play.

“This is… really nice Ram, but I don’t think I’m up for it right now,” you say honestly. Ramattra, despite being an omnic with no need for it, was… quite the insatiable man in bed. It was hard to get him to stop, and you really were too tired for it right now.

“I know. I just… couldn’t resist. You’re too sweet,” he chuckles into your throat, making you shudder.

You shuffle closer to him (even though you’re right against his chest), and he turns his body a bit so you aren’t crushed under him. Ramattra slows down just a little, placing a kiss on your temple, and you smile when he starts running his fingers down your hair and caressing your cheek. You reciprocate with a small kiss on his jaw, nuzzling into his hair.

“What time is it?”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

“You know I don’t need sleep.”

You roll your eyes at him, if he even saw it. “Powered down mode. Whatever the equivalent is.”

Ramattra sighs wistfully, absent-mindedly nuzzling into your hair.

“I was going to, but I was enchanted by your sleeping visage. You look adorable with your eyes closed, with not a worry in the world… just how I like it. I meant to kiss you then go to ‘sleep’ but you mewled when I kissed you and… I couldn’t stop.”

“Clearly,” you giggle, when he ‘sniffs’ your cheek. He turns your face towards his and places his mouth against yours, and you share a gentle, sensual kiss.

You felt so soft and delicate when he had his hand behind your head like this, pressing into his kiss. You felt his omnic tongue prod at your lips, asking for entry. You opened obligingly, letting him explore your mouth and play with your tongue. It felt sweet, if a little heated. He hums, sending minute vibrations through your mouth and cheeks that felt quite pleasant. You pull back to take a breath, but Ramattra chases you, pushing his tongue back into you hungrily. You let him drink your breaths, pressing his body against you that felt desperate and needy.

He let you part after the second kiss, though he still had his hand on your cheek possessively. Your breaths were hot and you felt sensuous, even as your eyelids drooped. You tucked your head under his chin and you were about to ask him to come to sleep with you, when something catches your eye, outside the window.

“Wait, Ram… what’s that?”

Beyond the parted curtains, you see streaks of light start coming down from the sky. One at a time, then more follow. Ramattra sits up straight, looking at them.

“A meteor shower.” He announces, turning to you. “Do you want to see it?”

“Oh yes,” you respond, trying to force yourself to wake up more as you spin in bed and get into your slippers.

The air outside is cold when you step onto the balcony. You’re whipped by brisk winds that blow your hair up and you start to shudder. Wordlessly, Ramattra places his scarf over your shoulder, wrapping the ends around you like a blanket, and guides you towards the little bench. He sits with a soft ker-chunk, and pulls you into his lap. You shift until you’re comfortable, your legs hanging off to the side of his and watch the sky.

You came at a good time. The meteors were plentiful now, shooting across the sky and disappearing like a rain of light. It twinkles in your eyes, and with his scarf, now most of your body felt warm except your face. Your hand wanders until it finds his, and you absent-mindedly grasp his, your fingers interlocking with his mechanical ones.

“The sky’s so clear here.” You say, just above a whisper. He nods, his hair brushing against yours.

“It is. It is the privilege us omnics have… not having to rely on so many things that pollute our skies. Food. An excessive amount of light. I… enjoy the stars.”

The skies twinkle.

“... I like this,” Ramattra hums, “the quiet nights are nice, here. I don’t have anything planned out in the near future. Just more planning, and resting.”

He squeezes your hand.

“More time with you.”

When you turn to him, he was already looking at you. It felt natural to lean into his kiss even as the meteor shower continues.

You’re not sure how long you stayed on the balcony. It could be somewhere from a few minutes to half an hour. After the meteor shower ended and the stars took back their stage in the night sky, neither you or Ramattra had the urge to move from your position. The both of you silently looked up at the stars. Ramattra always got into an inquisitive, thoughtful mood when he looked at the stars like this. Maybe he was remembering his brother from the monastery. He still rubbed the back of your hand from time to time, interrupted by pecks to the top of your head.

It was easy to let your mind drift and your eyelids flutter, quietly slipping back into slumber.

…

It would be dawn, soon. And Ramattra hasn’t had any ‘shut-eye’. Not that he needed to, but…

Your arms have gone slack, and your head was slumped to the side. He leaned his head forward to look at your face, pulling your hair back. Just as he thought, you were already in deep sleep.

He pressed his mouth to your temples. It was hard not to, he was addicted to kissing you.

“Let’s go back inside, dear,” he whispers, carrying you with his hand under your neck and knees, bringing you back to the bed.

[perfectlyripeclementine]

the best cure i've found for impostor syndrome is identifying the most incompetent person currently doing the thing you want to be doing. that is the bar. as long as you can do better than that person you deserve to be in the space.

[ruth-writes]

ruthswip Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of a rewrite of something I've been working on for a long time.

Content warnings: physical abuse (explicit scenes), homophobia

Jamie's POV

One-hundred and fifty-five days. That meant five months and two days. It had been almost half a year.

Half a year, which meant we were getting close to our first performance. Not that we were in any way ready. Lisa was supposed to be doing a step in front of me so we’d form a line facing the audience, but she kept stepping on my foot and tripping instead. If I had to hear the same few notes of This is Me one more time until she finally got it, I was rip my ears off.

Ms. Page looked as frustrated as I felt, but she knew how to handle it. She was exactly the kind of person who should be a teacher, never losing her patience or yelling at us. I wondered how she’d managed not to turn bitter like every other adult I knew. I considered asking her for tips, but it was probably too late for me anyway.

Lisa stepped on my little toe this time, the heel of her boot making me wince. “Sorry,” she apologized, as if that would make the throbbing pain magically disappear.

            I glanced at Holden, who was watching us from the front of the room. He should be practicing his solo, but there wasn’t much of a point when the backup dancers couldn’t even get far enough for his cue. At least it meant we could make faces at each other, like the one I gave him now. He answered with a small grin, making my insides squirm. Even more when people looked over their shoulders to follow his gaze. I quickly fixed my gaze back on the gym floor, blending into the background as best as I could.

            Ms. Page finally gave up on nobody tripping and told us to just try and get through the whole dance. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, even though my feet were feeling very bruised by the end of it. I’d managed to do some improv to avoid the worst of the tripping, which Ms. Page praised me for while simultaneously scolding everyone else to practice more at home. Everyone grumbled their acknowledgement, and we were finally allowed to leave.

            Outside, Michael asked, “Who wants to go to Taco Bell?” Michael was a senior, and he had a car.

            A few people agreed, but Michael specifically looked in our direction. “Holden?”

            Holden looked at me, even though I wasn’t the one being asked. “I think I’m just gonna go home,” I told him.

            Holden turned to Michael. “Yeah, me too. I still have a lot of homework to do.”

            Micheal rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. You used to hang out all the time.” Everyone knew what Michael wasn’t saying out loud. If there was any doubt, the glare he was giving me cemented it. Holden used to hang out last year, before he met me.

            Holden noticed it, too, his usual carefree smile turning into a slight frown. “Well, things change, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and stalked toward the bus, me hurrying to catch up with him.

            I hesitated when he threw himself on the seat at the very back, still glaring. “Are you mad at me?” I came out sounding a lot more like whine than I’d intended.

            His expression immediately softened as he hurried to make room for me on the bench. “No, of course not!” When I sat down, he pressed a kiss to my temple and added, “I could never be mad at you.”

            I relaxed into his arms.

-

            If I was any good at drawing, I’d be able to draw Holden’s room purely from memory by now. I’d rarely spent a single day anywhere else for the past five months, and most of my time was spent staring at the walls while he worked on his homework. I’d given up trying with mine a while ago. I knew there was no point, especially in the afternoon once my Adderall had worn off.

            Holden’s room was how I always imagined mine would be if I could decorate it the way I wanted to. There were two framed posters on the biggest wall, plants on the windowsill that he somehow managed to keep alive, and pieces of furniture he’d been allowed to pick out himself. Best of all was the wall of pictures over his desk. The pictures ranged from him as a baby ‘til now. Some were with friends, some with his family and some with me, and everyone was smiling in each one. I knew that even if I tried to create a wall like that, there wouldn’t be enough people who to cover it with.

            That was fine, though. I could entertain myself, like I did now by opening The Battle of the Labyrinth again. I was rereading the entire series while I waited for The House of Hades to come out, even though I knew it all by heart. If I had to recite that instead of state capitals in school, I’d have A’s all around. When I was little, I used to think my ADHD was proof I was a demigod. I kept waiting for the day I’d be whisked to Camp Half-Blood and meet my real family. Of course, I’d have found a way to convince Chiron to let Alex come, too. Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never considered leaving him for a second.

            I jumped slightly when Holden sat down next to me suddenly, holding his laptop. He grimaced. “Oh God, sorry.”

            “It’s fine,” I assured him. “Are you done?”

            He nodded and we cuddled up next to each other, my head resting on his shoulder. Holden tried opening Netflix, but announced after a few moments, “The Wifi’s not working. One of us has to go and reset the router.”

            We looked at each other, having a tiny battle of who could do the best puppy-dog gaze.

            “I don’t want to get up,” he complained.

            “Well, neither do I,” I countered.

            “I reset it yesterday!” he protested.

            “Did you? I don’t remember.”

            “I’m pretty sure I did.”

            “I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

            He shut his laptop. “I guess we’re not watching anything then.”

            That was a move I hadn’t been expecting. “Are you serious?” I pouted.

            “Hey, if it’s that important to you, you can go,” he pointed out.

            I thought about it. “Yeah, no.”

            He laughed, leaning in close. “I know something we can do that we don’t have to leave the bed for.”

            I smirked. “Yeah?”

            We started off slow, kissing each other gently, but then letting things get more heated. He hummed when I kissed down his neck. I loved giving him hickeys. I wished he could give them to me too, but they’d be much too visible. I smiled into my kissed when he slowly started inching his hand up my shirt, but then frowned when he paused. I stopped to see what he was looking at.

            “This one’s knew,” he commented, gently touching the fresh bruise on my chest.

            I winced and he immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry,” he apologized.

            “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much, I barely even noticed it,” I lied.

            Alex would have known I was lying in a heartbeat, but Holden didn’t know me as well and looked slightly relieved. “Well, that’s good.” He pulled my shirt down again, covering the bruise. “What happened?”

            “Nothing, really,” I explained. “He was just awake longer than usual and ran into me when I was coming home.”

            I could tell Holden really didn’t like that answer. “Jamie, I think we should tell someone.”

            I rolled my eyes. We’d had this conversation before, and he knew my answer hadn’t changed. “No.”

            “Just one adult, Jamie,” he pleaded. “It can be anyone. If I told my parents, they’d know what to do.”

            I struggled to keep my voice level as I bluntly stated, “They won’t because there’s nothing anyone can do.”

            Holden just didn’t get it. “They could call the police,” he argued stubbornly.

            I wondered what it was like living with such wholehearted trust in the system. It must be nice. “If we call the police, he’ll put on a nice smile for them an beat me half to death when they’re gone.” I knew I was right, because that was exactly how it had happened when my second-grade teacher called them. Afterwards, the hospital had sent me right back home to him.

            A tear rolled down Holden’s cheek and he gave a sniffle, which pissed me off. He wasn’t the one who was in danger here. But he didn’t stop crying, and I guessed I felt a little bad, so I let him cry into my shirt. He was just worried and didn’t know any better. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you,” I soothed him as I stroked his hair.

            He sniffed. “I’m scared somethings gonna happen to you.”

            “Well yeah, so am I,” I said a bit too bitterly, and immediately regretted it. But Holden never got mad at me, so he just hugged me even more tightly.

            “Jamie! Holden! Dinner’s ready!” We heard his dad call from downstairs. They’d started simply assuming that I was eating with them a while back.

            We went to wash our hands, spending an extra minute to wash away any evidence of Holden’s tears.

            “Will you boys set the table?” Matt asked us once we arrived downstairs. He was carrying a large steaming pot, so I carefully maneuvered around him to get to the silverware.

            We were having spaghetti. The homemade tomato sauce was a lot better than the cheap store-bought one Alex used to heat up in the microwave. I was pretty sure the strange chucks I was picking at were actual tomatoes. I tentatively poked a small one with my fork and forced myself to swallow it. I’d always hated eating in front of other people, especially when it wasn’t one of my safe foods. Having to pretend I wasn’t literally choking most things down was exhausting.

            “So, how was everyone’s day?” Anna asked like she did every day. I’d only been dealing with it for five months, I couldn’t understand how Holden had managed it his entire life.

            “It was fine, I guess,” Holden mumbled, trying to get out of the question as always. I’d come to realize it was their ritual, because Anna always managed to get all the details out of him in the end. There wasn’t a single aspect of his life Holden was allowed to keep private.

            “You guess?” Anna pried.

            Holden busied himself trying to roll the spaghetti onto his fork. He gave up on the polite way after a few tries and started rolling the fork in the air, which was pretty cute to watch.

            “Holden, don’t play with your food,” Anna said gently but firmly.

            He pouted. “I’m eating it!”

            Whenever he talked back to his parents, I prepared myself for someone to start screaming before I remembered that wasn’t gonna happen here. Instead, Matt made Holden watch while he showed him the correct way to roll spaghetti. “Jamie’s doing it,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should watch him.”

            I hated it when they did that. Pitted us against each other. Couldn’t he have just shown it to him and left it at that? Now, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and it was making my skin crawl.

            Thankfully, Anna remembered that it was still supposed to be Holden’s turn in the spotlight. “How’s your solo coming along?”

            Holden nodded with his mouth stuffed full of spaghetti, which Anna patiently waited for him to swallow. “We were mostly practicing the beginning of the routine today,” he finally explained.

            Anna frowned. “Still? Your performance is next week.”

            Holden snorted. “Yeah, and it’s gonna be a… bad show.” I knew he’d narrowly stopped himself from saying shitshow.

            Anna didn’t mention his hiccup. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

            She spent the next few minutes prying about how Ms. Page was handling it, how the moral was among the dancers (what did that even mean?) and figuring out exactly what Holden had ‘learned’ in school today. It was exhausting to watch, but I desperately wished it would go on forever, because once she was satisfied with him, she fixed her gaze on me.

“What about you, Jamie? What did you learn today?”

            This was always the most uncomfortable part, because Anna definitely thought I was being rude when I didn’t answer, but I truly didn’t have a single idea what my teachers had droned on about on any given day. I could barely remember my classes. After what felt like an eternity, Anna gave up on the subject, but she wasn’t completely done with me.

“How are your parents? Are they still working hard?” Anna thought the reason my parents were so nonexistent was because they were workaholics. She’d kind of come up with it on her own, and I’d never corrected her.

“Um, yeah,” I replied, picking at my food. Everyone else had already served themselves seconds, but my plate was still half full.

Anna and Matt shared a look that I didn’t understand, then Matt cleared his throat. “We were thinking of maybe inviting them over to dinner some time. You know, since you’re here so often, and we’ve never met them. They might want to know who their son is spending all of his time with.” He gave a light chuckle at the end.

Red alert. Red alert. Red alert, my brain blared. Had Matt’s gaze always been so piercing? Why was my fork suddenly so heavy? It slipped out of my hand and landed on the plate with a lout clatter, making everyone at the table jump. “Sorry!” I exclaimed, quickly picking it up again.

“It’s alright,” Matt said, even though he looked slightly frazzled. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he looked to his wife for help.

She seemed as lost as him, but she didn’t let it stop her from trying something. “Jamie, honey, is everything… alright?”

My heart was pounding so intensely I could feel it in my fingertips. I set my fork down so I didn’t make the same mistake again and put on my best mask. “Yeah! Sorry, I was thinking of something else. I’ll ask my parents, but I honestly don’t think they’ll be free anytime soon. You've seen how much they work.”

My sudden change in attitude didn’t seem to convince Matt and Anna. I cursed myself for getting too comfortable and letting my mask slip.

“Okay, you do that,” Anna said. “But if you need anything, you can tell us, okay?”

No matter how annoying Anna was, my heart warmed at her genuineness. I almost felt guilty lying to her. Almost. It was a necessary means. I flashed her a brilliant smile. “Thanks, but really, everything’s fine.”

She gave me an uncertain smile back, then transferred the spotlight to Matt. He excelled in it, telling her every conversation he’d had that day almost word for word. Afterwards, he hung onto every sentence as she did the same for him.

Matt always drove me home after dinner. Usually he put on his favorite radio station that only played The Beatles, but today it was silent. Maybe he wanted to give me the room to tell him something. I liked Matt a lot more than I liked Anna. He never forced things out of you, so when we talked, it was always about things we both genuinely wanted to say. I imagined what would happen if I told him about my bruises. He’d freak out, but still manage to keep his cool. He’d wait for me to finish talking and then figure out what to do. He’d only want to call the cops, though, no matter what I said. So I kept my mouth shut.

We said our goodbyes, and I watched him drive off before walking home from the house I always told him was mine. It was only a block away from my actual front door. Taking off, my shoes, I unlocked the front door as slowly as I could before tiptoeing through and closing it a millimeter a second. Then came the stairs, which I inched along, making sure to avoid the creaky ones. If that even mattered with how loudly I could hear the blood rushing through my ears. After maybe ten minutes, I reached the top, where Alex’s bedroom door was waiting open for me. It was right next to mine, which had remained firmly shut since he’d left. I pulled myself under the covers that had stopped smelling like him a long time ago and fell into an uneasy sleep.

-

The next week went by in a blur. Ms. Page made us put in insane hours of extra practice, even managing to pull us out of class, and by the end of it we were actually kind of okay. Lisa wasn’t even stepping on me anymore, and Ms. Page seemed to be finding the joy in her job again.

Then it was an hour before the show, all the parents were trickling into the auditorium, and things were absolutely chaotic backstage. People were running around looking for their missing props, then crashing into others who were pacing out of nervousness. I found a quiet corner and watched. We were all in basic black outfits except for Holden, who had a white skintight shirt. It made him look pretty hot as he frantically tried to help Ms. Page keep everything in order. I saw him scan the room until his eyes fell on me. He tilted his head, silently asking if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up, and he immediately went back to yelling orders.

Once we were under the blinding lights of the stage, adrenaline took over. I loved these moments, when I didn’t have to think and my body just did. It gave me a few precious moments of peace that were over way too soon, especially considering all the hours of sweat and tears we’d put into the routine. It was humbling realizing that we’d needed half a year to get a few minutes of simple steps right so that our parents could politely clap and forget about it the next day. The adrenaline was already mostly gone by the time Anna and Matt greeted us after the show.

“You did so well!” Anna squealed. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Matt agreed with her, and I let them hug me after they’d nearly suffocated Holden. At first it was awkward, but then I realized I didn’t want to let go. I might have been imagining it, but Matt did seem to let me hold onto him a little longer than normal before they both started fawning over Holden’s solo. I happily joined in, seeing as he had been incredible. He was all smiles, eating the attention up like the shining star he was. And he was my shining star.

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was seeing him so happy, maybe Matt’s hug had given me a false sense of security. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

After that, everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Holden blushed slightly, and Anna and Matt laughed. Anny got out her phone to take a picture of us, but then her eyes fixed on something behind us. I heard someone gasp and then a voice that never failed to make my blook run cold said, “What the fuck?”

The first hit slammed into my head before I had the time to react. People screamed. I stumbled, dots in front of my eyes, and Holden caught me.

“Get your hands off my son, you fucking fag!”

He was ripped away from me and I fell, Something slammed into my face, then my arm, then my ribs. I was pretty sure I heard a crack. More people were screaming now, some of them calling my name. I ignored them, choosing to curl into a ball and close my eyes. I accepted the beatings until finally, everything went black.

[redbeanbag]

I think the primary takeaway from all these new family anime’s (Buddy Daddies, Spy x Family, Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting etc.) isn’t that people should be having more children but that child rearing is a communal effort meant to be shared within robust networks of support. That found family is as meaningful as biological family and atypical familial structures can enrich a child’s development in ways the nuclear family cannot.

[fallenneziah]

GhostSoap but they're in the punk scene and used to date. A few years later their new bands meet at a convention/festival and the now exes are forced to be in close proximity together and work through their unresolved shit slowly through unethical means. Whether that be fighting, flirting, or aggressive eye contact for no reason.

Yeah, it's enemies to lovers, yeah it's rekindling exes, and yes, there are moshpits, rock bands and hate fucking.

And yes this is a fic I'm writing 🙃 Its my first long form fic in a while so I'm riding the hype of it coming together.

[wordswhisperinthedark]

I think the biggest reason why the long forms are my favourite sfth thing is that as someone who spends ages writing because the words won't go the way I want immediately, it's amazing to see a group conjure up such wonderful and well-written stories with beautiful arcs and conclusions (plus the healthy doses of chaos), and well fleshed-out characters in the space of like, 30 minutes or less?? On the spot?? And with other people all throwing their ideas in at the same time?? *mind blown*

[warmshotamilk]

Thinking about that one old Tumblr soulmate AU where someone has a birthmark where their soulmate is supposed to touch them for the first time and it erupts with colors the first time they do

Thinking about a man with birthmarks all up and down his forearms and hands, after many years of never finding his soulmate, deciding "fuck it, soulmates are a scam, I'm doing my own thing." He finds a woman (probably also thinks soulmates are a scam. Probably met through some sort of "soulmates are a scam" dating website) and gets married to her instead. All is good and they are happy, but he can never shake the feeling that something is missing

Thinking about that man and woman, years down the line, expecting a child. They're happy, they're elated. The man has never felt more excited in his entire life

Thinking about that woman giving birth many months later. The man couldn't make it for the birth, being held up at work and then traffic, swearing his head off at having to miss the birth of his first child

Thinking about the man finally making it to the hospital, his wife asleep after the exhaustion of giving birth. Understandable

Thinking about that man and his child finally being able to meet alone

Thinking about that man noticing dark birthmarks all up and down his child's back. Perhaps their soulmate bumps into them in the future

Thinking about that man scooping up his new pride and joy into his arms

Thinking about that man's eyes going wide as he watches beautiful, vibrant colors spread all over his arms and his new child's back

Thinking about the pit that must grown in that man's stomach as he realizes he's finally found his soulmate

[blorbocedes]

resharing riddle of rosberg by Will Buxton, because OP who originally posted it deactivated, and it's a very interesting read. since WB recently talked about how he didn't like Nico until they had a breakthrough moment and he realised that's his German sense of humour, this contextualises how people perceived Nico. Buxton wrote on Nico back in 2014, which covers his early GP2 career, the 2014 F1 season and provides a fascinating insight into Nico’s character. Highlights below:

I can’t recall the first time I met Nico Rosberg. All I remember is that I despised him, everything he was and all he represented: the cock-sure, entitled, bolshy son of a world champion. No grace, no humility. Wafting in, a blur of blonde hair and arrogance. A Formula BMW champion yes, but only a few F3 wins and just three years in single seaters gave what I held to be little foundation for such seeming conceit. I disliked him intensely. It got to the point where I held such disdain for him that I would actively seek for our paths to not cross… which was fairly hard given I was PRing the championship in which he was racing. I’d simply ask someone else to grab his quotes for me. They always seemed to be able to pull more out of him anyway.

Nico Rosberg had been quick from the outset, and watching his racecraft develop as the season went on became a growing point of emotional turmoil for me. He was so impressive; seemingly effortlessly rapid and blessed with a precision that was metronomic. But I just couldn’t like him. I wished he’d been a good guy, one I could get excited about. But instead I felt huge sadness that such a wonderful talent had been given to a guy who was apparently such a Class A prat.

I recall the low point only too well. He was breezing past on his way to dinner. His team-mate Alexandre Premat had topped qualifying, and I’d used the staggeringly unoriginal press release headline of “Premat Powers to Pole.”

“Why don’t I ever “power” to anything?” he pointedly sneered as he walked past.

I looked up, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then it hit, and I wondered why he was being so petty. The headline was simple alliteration. I had probably or would probably use “Rosberg Reigns” at some point of the season on the back of one of his wins. It was just Nico being typical Nico.

“Dick!” I whispered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Later that night, I needed to talk to his then-PR guy Karsten Streng and hopped into the ART truck to find him.

“Karsten, can we have a chat?”

Out from behind his race overalls jumped Nico.

“Oh, so you don’t want to speak to me then? Huh? What’s that all about? You’d rather speak to Karsten than to me?”

I turned on my heels and walked out.

Karsten ran after me.

“Will, man, you can’t let that get to you. You know he’s only joking, right? Just fire it straight back at him. He’ll love it. He’s really a fun guy… honestly. But if you don’t give it back to him he’ll think he’s got the high ground. He loves a challenge.”

The next day Nico sent some pithy comment my way, so I turned around, flipped him the bird and winked. “Fuck you Rosberg.”

He looked taken aback. I broke out in a cold sweat. This was not behavior becoming of the championship’s press officer. Had I just managed to ruin any relationship I might have had with the man destined to be our first champion?

A smile broke across his face, and we never had a cross word again. Indeed, we started to get on really well. At the end of the season I received a package to my home, from Monaco. In it was an ART team shirt, signed by Nico, thanking me for my support. I had it framed, and it remains one of my most treasured pieces of memorabilia from my career in racing.

Nico was the most savvy driver I ever worked with. Stepping down from the podium after winning the GP2 title, he spoke to the awaiting press in turn, each in their own language. I’d only ever seen him in individual language press briefings, and to see him utilise such cool and calm intelligence so soon after the elation of what was at the time the most meaningful moment of his career left me astounded.

But therein lies the deepest issue with Nico Rosberg. He isn’t just smart. He’s the sort of smart that makes the rest of us question if we’re quite as clever as we thought we were. And at times it can be his undoing.

I’d seen his intelligence and need for the high ground cause him trouble time and time again in interviews, even in the GP2 days. The interviewer would sit down, all smiles, ready to start the conversation. But Nico, fearful of being on the back foot, would fire retorts and wrestle control of the interview back into his own hands. He would put the interviewer at ill ease in order to make himself feel more comfortable with the situation. What resulted was a terrible interview, and the prevailing opinion of Rosberg being precisely the one I’d drawn when first we met: that he was cocky and arrogant. When I came back to journalism in 2008 I had booked a sit down with him at Williams and for the first 2 minutes of the interview, that’s exactly how he was: back against the wall, stand-offish, arrogant, unlikable. I switched off the Dictaphone and asked him if he was going to carry on being a prick or if we could do this properly. He looked sheepish, apologised, and we picked back up with what ended up being a great interview.

All of which led to a question often asked: is Nico Rosberg too smart for his own good?

It’s a question that has come back again this year.

Many will point to Monaco as a stand-out point of the season. I always felt Rosberg was smart enough to pull off that stunt in qualifying, but I never believed he was that cynical or cold. To be a world champion takes more than intelligence and speed. As I argued over Multi-21 last year, while we may hate to admit it, what marks the champions out from the also-rans is the ability to be a complete bastard when the moment arrives. In Monaco, Nico was the bastard and turned that qualifying controversy into a race win that had the ability to completely shift the tide of the season.

That it didn’t, however, is his own doing.

Lewis Hamilton is widely regarded as one of the best qualifiers in modern Formula 1. And yet, with a dominantly fast car at his disposal, he has lost the Pole Trophy to Nico Rosberg, the German amassing 10 poles to Hamilton’s seven. That metronomic precision has played into the Rosberg’s hands on many occasions this season, and more often than not it has given him the upper hand going into the race. On Saturdays at least, Rosberg has proved beyond doubt that he has the pace. But he hasn’t turned that Saturday pace on regularly enough in Sunday’s race.

Mentally, what happened in Budapest was also a tremendous shock. Hungary should never have affected him as much as it did. Perhaps it all comes down to how much brain capacity we consider Nico Rosberg as having, but that August break should have been used to move on from what he perceived as injustice, and start the second half of the season fresh and with total clarity of mind. Rosberg used all of that mindfulness, however, to focus on the negatives and came back to Spa with it still playing on his mind.

That incident on lap 2 of the 2014 Belgian Grand Prix has been poured over to frankly ridiculous degrees. To me, it was a nothing moment. Rosberg could have backed out, Hamilton could have given more room. That both went into it so pathetically ultimately resulted in the damage it did. If Rosberg had truly wanted to teach Hamilton a lesson then he should have gone in hard. That he didn’t is the only reason that Hamilton’s tyre was sliced. Any intent, and Rosberg would have snapped his front wing, bouncing it off the side of the Briton’s tyre. Hamilton would have stormed off into the distance while Rosberg was forced to switch his wing.

I argued at the time that Rosberg needed to embrace one side or the other. He needed to be a hero or a villain, because if he was neither, he risked becoming nothing. And so it emerged after the race that he had told Hamiton he had allowed the impact to happen. A step towards becoming that villain? Perhaps, but it wasn’t enough. And that’s the big sadness of his season. He has been so fast and so consistent, but his inability to pick a side and his attempts at being all things to all people has led to him being left wide open to attack from all sides.

The way he interacts with broadcast crews is an incredible illustration of this. In Monza, in speaking with me on American television he spoke in confident and unashamed tones despite his apparent dressing down by the team over Spa. With the Germans he was the same… almost bullish. And then to the British TV and radio crews, his shoulders slumped forward, his head bowed down, his tone was full of contrition and regret. What he was saying was no different to what he had told the German or international crews, but the way it was said was at total odds with how he had been just 10 seconds before.

Just as in Bahrain at that GP2 finale 10 years ago, I stood in awe. So savvy, so intelligent to his audience… but perhaps, in this instance, a reflection of him trying to be just that little bit too smart.

The thing is, he can be so charming too. He has a dry and sarcastic wit, which can sometimes be played out with a deft finesse. In America and Brazil, he started to have a very subtle jab at his championship rival by adopting Lewis Hamilton’s apparent mot du jour. In almost every interview, Rosberg would drop in a little comment about how “blessed” he felt. Shrewd. Subtle. At times, however, he can be a total child. In Hungary this year I was running from my commentary position to the GP3 podium to conduct the post race interviews. Time is tight at the best of times, but when I arrived at the swipe gates I felt an arm around my waist pulling me back. At first I thought it was an over-zealous security guard. But no. It was Nico, giggling away with a huge grin plastered across his face.

Should he be crowned 2014 Formula 1 world champion, be it through double points or, let’s hope, a barn-storming wheel-to-wheel thriller, some will still argue that Nico Rosberg does not deserve to be world champion. With them, however, I would disagree. Lest we forget, this is the only man who, over the course of a full Formula 1 season, finished ahead of Michael Schumacher as a team-mate. As if to reinforce the point, Rosberg achieved this giant toppling feat not once, but thrice.

His out-and-out pace in qualifying this year has been insurmountable. That he has won the inaugural Pole Trophy is evidence of that. So we know he has the pace, we know he has the temperament to win races, and we know that on occasion he can embrace his inner bastard and drive with the ruthlessness that sets world champions apart.

Nico Rosberg has shown repeatedly in 2014 that he possesses the attributes shared by the best of the best. We should not deny him his glory should he be confirmed as such on Sunday.