#is my rota at work means next Thursday i will have to wait to watch the eps

[iggy-hands]

I'm feeling so sad that we're over halfway through now 😔

[theretirementstory]

Photos: Springtime in my garden and the cherry tree with buds and blossom. Joyeuses Paques. It is Easter Day and what a day it is going to be for me, I am expecting a video call with my friends from Bristol, which always makes for an interesting time, I have written down what I want to tell them because I have been known to forget (something to do with age I think)! It feels as if it has been a busy week although to be honest, I have been sitting around either knitting or trying to do more on my French language learning. From 7pm yesterday evening the whole of France is now under what they are calling a “Partial Lockdown”, no change for the people of the Aube we have had a week of that already. What it means for me is this: I cannot have my friends call for tea/coffee and cake, I can still go to “knitting with refugees” how does that work, no idea. Some shops that I may have wanted to visit will be closed (I guess I can wait for whatever it is they sell that I may need)! Reading the Government guidance one of the things they suggest doing is opening the windows in your home three times a day for a minimum of ten minutes each time, now this is something that I had not been doing so now I am busy fitting it into my routine. As my windows/doors open inwards, I decided that I could use the time they are open to wash all of the plastic, the outside window panes and the inside of the frames, I am not going to do it all in one day, I will fit it into the cleaning rota. Another thing that is being encouraged is walking, once I have done all of the additional jobs I will be getting out and about for sure. I have been on “rat watch” this week too, my neighbour told me he had put poison down and not seen the rat. I went out and bought white vinegar plus a sprayer to spray around the perimeter of my garden, after I had done all of that, neighbours wife came out and said “Saw the rat around 11am near your composter”. I felt sick…...I may be big but I am definitely not brave where rats and mice are concerned. Anyway long story short, I was out spraying under shrubs, around composter etc with water, hoping if it/they were nesting in there I would “wet the nest”. Hadn’t seen any sign of it until Thursday teatime, when it decided to do it’s dying on my lawn, it was in the “throes” and I hurried round to my neighbour who came round armed with a garden rake, which he used to club the rat with. Once dead he carried the rat to somewhere, I know not where, but hope it was far enough from our houses, it can now run forever in rat heaven. I am praying that this rat was “The Lone Ranger” as I have no wish to see Tonto or the Comanche nation in the next few days/weeks. My “potager” which I bought when I first moved in here, was supposed to have three tiers but after the first year I left just one large square of compost and I tried to grow peas and broad beans in there last year along with a tomato plant. The remaining wooden pieces were in the garage and after planting more strawberry plants in pots, I decided to put them all into one area. This area is now surrounded by a wooden square, ok so the ground is full of weeds/grass but it means that the pots are all in one place making it easier to water. I have three cherry tomato plants that have come through and I am going to get them potted on. I also have either rosemary or thyme that has sprouted. The rocket and lettuce leaves which I thought were not going to come at all, have started sprouting, the lettuce is red, love that. I had put some broad beans into the potager around February time but they have not put in an appearance, so I think I will give them a miss and use the space just to grow some flowers. I will put the tomatoes and beetroot into pots to grow, plus I will use the peas for “pea shoots”. The front garden looks lovely, with red tulips blooming, in the back garden the narcissus and tulips have come through, the tulips are all yellow. I am hoping I get a good display from the irises again this year. As you can imagine, I was disappointed seeing the rat, as it has made me wary of going into the back garden and last year during “lock-down” the garden gave me so much pleasure. The Prefecture e-mailed me with an appointment, I am so excited, it is next week. Now I just have to get all my papers in one place, ready to take with me. I also need to carry an Attestation as I feel certain that I will be stopped en-route, I hope not but it is better to “be prepared”. I sent a zillion Easter e-cards and it was so lovely getting responses, I also messaged a few French friends as I hadn’t heard from them for sometime. A video call with a cousin and her husband the other night was so lovely, we were on the phone for almost two hours. As I didn’t see a lot of her from around our 20’s onwards, it was lovely to hear what she had done workwise, she was saying how she moved home a lot and it was just so interesting. We met up again when I had a big birthday and I invited her and her husband to my “party”. I know that the lock-down has been hard for them and she was saying that she hadn’t seen her youngest brother since 2019, sometimes I bemoan the fact that I haven’t seen my family since then, but I am in a different country, not so my cousin and her brother. Apparently, people in my age group are due to start receiving their vaccinations from 16 April, I am hoping that my friendly pharmacist gives me a call soon. Apart from being Easter weekend, “The Daddy”, “The Mummy” and my gorgeous granddaughter will be sleeping in their “rental home” (next door to where they have been living with “Nanna”), hopefully this will only be for a few months. They have been very busy and managed to have their first night in that home last night. I have just received a photo of my “smiley” granddaughter tucking into her cereal in the new house, what a delight! “The Paralegal’s” week has been another week of highs and lows, the lows being work and the highs being able to go out walking either on his own or with Lucy and “the babies”, Tilly and Chester. For a person who did not enjoy walking at all, he has really embraced being out and about on a week-end. Living close to the coast and the North York Moors he has a choice of walks all with spectacular scenery. Already this morning I have had a video call from Roseberry Topping and another walk is planned with Tilly and Chester this afternoon. Lucy has been “encouraged” (I think) by being mentioned here, she has sent a draft of her dissertation in, has ongoing assessments in Advocacy and Drafting and of course has to make time for the walks with “The Paralegal”. Not much longer to go girl, get those stops pulled out and you will achieve your goal. My shoulder is giving me gyp, I have had to resort to two paracetamol, anyone who knows me will know that I don’t do tablets, so it must be painful. Perhaps it is the knitting that has taken it’s toll as I have knitted four baby blankets, two babies bonnets and a baby cardigan (not all this week I hasten to add), personally I think it may have been the cleaning of the windows and surrounds (my opinion only, I hate housework)!! Well it wont stop the hard work that is for sure, I need the mower out before the video call this afternoon, don’t want to wait as rain is forecast for tomorrow. So will I get the tomato plants potted on with the rosemary or thyme, will I get the flower seeds into the potager? All will be revealed next week, so have a great week until then.

[thedistantstorm]

Come Together 06

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Devrim Kay/Marc

Warnings: less smut, angst, homophobia, domestic violence (mentioned) I’m so sorry guys, there is some actual plot happening and I’m cruel.

“A young city planner set his eyes on an older militiaman. He was unkempt and terribly forward. The militiaman had class. He wasn’t interested.”

“Clearly,” Marc tells their friends. “That’s why they decided to get married.”

(A story told in bits and pieces.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

-/

Their first fight comes five months into their relationship. And unlike previous relationships and partners past, it’s not some meaningless lovers quarrel over who’s turn it was to do something or plan a date.

It was bound to happen eventually: Marc’s mother running into them on the street, in the market, bright and early one Saturday morning. This had slowly become part of their weekly routine, heading down from one of their places, getting groceries and produce, and then cooking together in the evening.

But Marc had made a fatal error, withdrawing from Devrim’s arm as though he had the plague, introducing his mother, Esther, to Devrim. Introducing Devrim to her - as one of his good friends. Devrim was certainly cordial, very much his usual brand of polite and charismatic, and the conversation itself went off without a hitch. Well, almost.

“And your lady friend? Margaret, you said?”

“Oh,” Marc answered, his willing his face to remain neutral before sighing, lying through his teeth, “Yeah. She’s great. We’re very happy together.”

“You’ll have to bring her to dinner. We haven’t seen her in forever.”

“Her work keeps her away, as I’ve told you. She’s always so busy, I hardly get to see her, myself.” Panic lances through him, but it’s not himself he’s worried about.

His lies cut through Devrim far sharper than any knife.

“Pardon my interruption, but I believe I’ve forgotten a prior engagement,” Devrim had lied, excusing himself just as Marc’s mother - a similarly bronze skinned woman with long, sun-kissed hair - was chastising her boy for not calling home as much as she liked, “You’ll have to excuse me,” He’d said, handing Marc their groceries. 

Marc looked at him in mounting concern, but Devrim’s eyes were dark. Closed off. If he knew Devrim was furious, he didn’t let on, only nodding at key points in his mother’s monologue, watching his partner’s back as he walked briskly down the street.

The very moment his mother let him off - on the promise that he’d call sometime during the week, he all but ran back to Devrim’s flat. The door was unlocked. Perhaps it wasn’t-

His overnight bag was packed and sitting in the doorway. Devrim would even not look at him, his eyes gazing at the wall across from his couch, hands shaking, wrapped around a mug of tea. 

“Take your things and leave.”

“It’s not-”

“Now.”

-/

Devrim isn't at his post the following Monday. All of Marc's messages go unanswered. He needed to see him face-to-face. This wasn't a conversation - a situation to explain over messaging. 

He knew it was doubtful that Dev would be in their usual booth during their lunch hour, yet he still makes a point to look anyway. He checks the entire seating area to make sure that his sniper isn't sitting elsewhere, trying to throw him off. Devrim isn't. Marc will have to try again tomorrow.

By Wednesday, he goes to Devrim’s flat. Stands there for over an hour, like an idiot, knocking every so often. He doesn’t hear any sound inside, and resolves that he must not be in there. Which is strange. Devrim is always home on Wednesday nights. They show some history special he adores - Marc has taken to falling asleep against him while he gushes about Golden Age pyrotechnics and battle strategies.

By Thursday, he’s brave enough to approach the Militia officer who always stands opposite of Devrim in the mornings. Before he can get a word out, she smiles apologetically. “Devrim asked me not to speak with you if you came looking for him,” She informs him tightly.

“Is he alright?”

“I really shouldn’t say.”

“I did something stupid. He must think-” Marc shakes his head. “I’m awful. I just… even if he’s done with me, I want to explain.”

The woman looks him over carefully. “Wait. You did something?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Marc tilts his head, eyebrows knitting closer in his confusion. He composes himself. “Yes. I was an idiot. I handled a situation very poorly.”

“Wow. Uh, okay.” The militia-woman adjusts her hat, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. “Honestly, I thought he broke up with you.”

“What?” That makes his heart leap into his throat like nothing else. Certainly he considered it a rather heavy possibility, and really, this whole thing could have been avoided if he’d just told Devrim. But until he had the opportunity to explain himself, he was desperately trying to pretend like that wasn’t the most likely outcome of the situation. For his own sanity.

The woman rambles on, ignorant of his internal struggle. “Well, I mean, you’re getting to the whole committed stage. Devrim doesn’t do commitment. Nothing ever hurts him. He just doesn’t get that attached, y’know? It’s weird for a guy so polite, but I guess that’s why he’s always so mellow.” She waves a hand. “Anyway. This changes things. Maybe he’ll actually get his act together and want to marry you.”

“We’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months!” Marc exclaims. He’s relatively certain the higher possibility lies with him being excommunicated than marriage at this rate.

The woman pats his shoulder, laughing nervously. “Shh, keep it down! Look, my CO would be pissed if he saw me talking to you. Just… meet me at the combini at noon, okay? I know where he is.”

Marc nods. “Okay,” He says. “I-” He sighs. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Dev will be sooo mad at me.”

-/

Marc has met Devrim's partner for Tower patrol duty before. Zara is a bit brash, talks before she thinks, but really does mean well. Devrim is fond of her in the way one was of a little sister. She dips into the chair across from Marc as though she's in a hurry. 

"Here's the deal. He showed up Monday and volunteered for an assignment. They sent him out on the first rover headed for Old Russia. I didn't even know they sent us there, but apparently this was some Vanguard assistance thing. He'll be back tomorrow morning." She pauses. "Running away is kind of his thing. Man's afraid of his own feelings, I think." 

She pulls a drink from her pack, and Marc pushes his container of fries closer to the center of the table. She shoves a few in her mouth around saying, "Look. Usually I'm sitting here with him, telling him he should be talking through his breakups. My track record is way worse than his and I actually want to settle down. Anyway," She flops a fry in her hand, conversationally, "Usually he's the one who messes up. Forgets a date on purpose, then sends you a breakup message so polite you're thanking him before you know he's left you in the dirt. It's savage."

"But that's not what happened."

"Yeah," Zara says. "So what did happen?"

"My mother." He sighs, continuing before he loses his nerve. "She's not… she doesn't know I'm attracted to men."

"Exclusively?"

He rubs his left temple, hazel eyes tired and red. "Does it matter?" He sighs. "I introduced Devrim as a friend."

Her jaw hangs. "Shut up."

"What?"

"He did that to the last guy he was with. Or maybe the one before that? I can't remember. Wow, karma is a bitch." Zara leans back, watching Marc's expression sober. "Sorry, sorry, continue."

"My parents think I'm seeing this woman named Margaret. It's just… better, that way. Keeps Mother from nosing around in my business, makes her and my father think I'm on the straight and narrow.

"No." Zara looks at him, like there's something on his face. Staring almost hard enough that it hurts. "Oh. My. Light."

"Yeah."

"So he thinks-"

"Yeah."

"I gotta hand it to you. You really fucked this up."

"Definitely. I think he's gonna dump me."

"I wouldn't be so sure." She examines a fry before popping it in her mouth. "He's got no problem sending a breakup message." She doesn't explain the part where he'd seemed almost desperate to get sent out on an op, or the way his usual neutral, polite expression was saddened and not even the squad's teasing could cheer him up. "I think he needs some space to figure himself out. And I think you need to figure out your next step."

"Next step?"

"You gonna let your folks think you're seeing a woman named Margerie?"

It's Margaret, but Marc doesn't bother correcting her. He gets the point. "I mean-"

"Let's assume it goes well: you explain, Dev forgives, yada yada. You gonna live like this forever?" Her expression turns soft. "I wouldn't think you're here because you want to see it end."

"I'm not."

She smiles. "Good. Devrim will be back tomorrow before noon. He has afternoon rota with me. I'd try and catch him afterwards." She probably pulls the container over to herself, picks it up, and slides out of the booth. "Thanks for the fries."

Marc nods. Normally he'd be upset, but he'd hardly had any himself. Surely Zara can see the gears turning in his brain.

-/

Devrim spends his week doing what he knows best: fieldwork. Assisting Guardians in translating and understanding Fallen transmissions, using those to determine and rig their bases for detonation. Sniping the stragglers from afar while the Guardians dance about like elegant death - and dancing - machines.

He keeps busy. It helps clear his mind. Helps him re-establish his footing. Gives him time to analyze without obsessing. Not that he's obsessing, no. He's not that type, but… If it were really bothering him that much.

Which, it clearly is, as much as he'd like to admit otherwise. It's not until the convoy is on it's day-long expedition home that he lets himself think about what he knows from Marc's conversation with his mother.

At the time, all he'd been able to think about was this other person she'd mentioned, vehemently trying to ramp down the hurt at not being introduced as his partner, which-

Really, that was a whole other thing entirely, and Devrim had already laid awake at night plenty thinking about why that bothered him so. He might be fussy about entering relationships, and selective about who he keeps around, but he's not the type to fall in love. He's kind and doting, sure, but when it comes to forever he's paralyzed, afraid of making an irreversible, incorrect choice.

And yet, he was unmistakably hurt when Marc didn't tell his mother they were together. Normally, it would be a win-win. This was… 

Right. Getting his brain back on track, he thinks back to the conversation. All of Marc's cues, his body language. They were easily discernible as someone trying to cover up a lie, and no doubt, Marc was lying, but the lie itself was up for debate.

And now that he wasn't so livid he thought he'd scream, he supposed they needed to talk.

-/

A hand grabs him as he's headed into work. He's late, but it's better than nothing. "No. Oh no you don't. You look like you're going to keel over. Sit down."

A half-drank cup of coffee is pressed into his hands, and his rear immediately feels the cold of the concrete sinking in. He sighs, feeling his chest rattle with it.

"What happened?"

He doesn't answer that, instead asking, "Won't the squad be mad if they see me talking to you?"

"Whatever. I'm not wearing yesterday's clothes and look like I'm having an allergic reaction." She looks around. The man who stands opposite her and isn't Devrim shakes his head. "Zara, you know how you never understand why you get in trouble?"

"Can't leave someone who needs help. You know me," She grins, shrugging. "Not my style."

He looks up into deep brown eyes, flecked amber in concern. "I'm fine."

"Right, and I'm Ikora Rey."

"She's a Warlock, and I've never seen you both in the same place. Might be true," Comes the call of the other militiaman.

"Ha ha, Mitchell." She rolls her eyes, crouching down in front of Marc, so they're closer, whispering, "You've been crying. What happened?"

"I told my folks."

She rises, swift and serious. "I'm taking my lunch early," She announces. "Cover me."

"Zar-"

"I know, I know.  I'll owe you one." She winks.

-/

It takes the younger patrolwoman until the end of the day to talk to him. She's surprisingly attentive to her duty instead of mouthing off at him and chattering about every new weapon released by the bigger foundries. She caves though, like a guilty child, eventually holding his gaze.

"You're gonna be pissed at me," Zara says.

The brim of his uniform hat makes his eyes look exceptionally blue. He narrows them at her and she squirms. "I take it you've meddled while I was away?"

"Uh, a bit," The female officer admits, nervously.

"You're uncomfortable. How much is a bit, exactly?"

"A bit," She grits back, before looking him dead in the eyes. "How much do you like him?"

"A bit," He quips, unable to tell if there’s a tease in there or if she’s being serious. She’s acting suspiciously.

Crossing her arms, she asks, "Even though he lied to his mother?"

Serious, then. He adopts a warning tone. "Zara-"

She interrupts. "Answer the question. If you thought he cheated on you, this would have been cut and dry."

He waits for passers by to be out of earshot before answering, "Why does it sound like you're on his side?"

"Okay. First of all, I didn't think he was going to listen to me. But apparently he's serious about you. So if you're not serious about him, I want to know so I can do damage control."

"Come out with it," Devrim snaps, a sinking feeling in his gut. "What did you do?"

"We talked. He explained what had happened, that his folks aren't exactly… let's say kosher with him being interested in men. I might have said something about how if he wanted to be serious with you, that meant embracing it, even if they'd be unhappy."

His jaw tics. "And?"

"Yeah." She makes a concerning face. "Wasn't kosher at all." Zara looks up at him. "They, weren't good to him. He said he knew it wouldn't go well, but he didn't think they'd be so extreme."

"Extreme, how?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, Kay. I can feel the murderous rampage-"

He crosses the cobblestone walkway, to be at a more conversational distance apart. She almost wishes he’d stay back, because him yelling is far less intense than the drop in his tone and his focused attention. "I will not. Explain yourself."

"I took my break early. Walked him to his flat for some clothes, then dropped him off at mine. Everything's wrecked. He called them last night, it went south, they invited themselves over. He'd left when they started throwing things and having a tantrum. Really childish of them, if you ask me."

His hands find her shoulders, decorum the only thing preventing him from shaking her. "Tell me he's unharmed."

Zara pats his scruffy cheek. "You do have it bad," She marvels. "Physically, he's fine."

[jiminscaramel]

at bay | mark [nct] | 02

[GENRE] fluff & angst

[COUNT] 2.6k

[PAIRING] fem holiday-rep!reader x holiday-rep!mark

[WARNINGS] not proofread

[AU] holiday representative au (is that a thing?)

⬸ 01 | 02

The next day is a scorcher, temperatures soaring and settling into the high forty’s, but it’s not enough to stop the horde of adults, in tow with their kids, from getting their desired holiday tan. You usually find pool duty the most insufferable job but not for the reasons some might think.

Lucas is at the head of the pool, throwing in beach balls and pool noodles at the kids and just generally making a fool of himself to keep them entertained. You roll your eyes but smile, because if you admired anything about that boy it was his ability to capture and hold anyone’s attention. He waves at you to join him but you pretend you can’t see, your sunglasses hiding where your gaze truly lies.

He’s usually a nightmare to get along with and you dread any shift you have to work together, but he’s been suspiciously kind today, saving his clownery for the intended audience.

“I knew I’d find you slacking off here,” you hear a voice chuckle behind you and swivel on your heel to find Mark smirking, clipboard in hand.

“I’m not slacking off,” you fire back, straightening your posture and trying to look alert. “It’s just hot. I needed a break.”

“Sure,” Mark laughs, sidling up beside you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you–”

Lucas turns up the volume on the outdoor speakers, gaining a cheer from the kids. He starts dancing a routine and encourages them to follow suit in the pool.

“What is he doing?” You whisper in exasperation. You shake your head and divert your attention back to Mark. “Sorry, you were saying?”

His cheeks flush and the tips of his ears turn bright red as he works up the courage to get the words off of his tongue. “Uh, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out next week?”

“Next week?” You ask surprised, expecting him to have wanted to hang out today. You push your glasses up to sit atop your head and wait for him to continue.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight nervously to the other foot. “Yeah, it’s, uh– it’s my birthday next week. I figured we could just hang out or go for a drink or something. I mean– only if you want to, I just thought it would be a nice idea–”

You bite back a laugh at his shifty behaviour, his nerves allowing him to babble on. Mark was always, without fail, confident with his customers. He could sell an excursion to almost anyone, sweet talk even the most difficult customers into anything and it’s what made him excellent at his job. But around you, his confidence was almost non-existent. His confidence completely depletes and leaves him a jittery, nervous wreck.

But it’s sweet, you think, cocking your head to the side and observing him with curious eyes. You’d never let him, or anyone else for that matter, ever know that you feel exactly the same way. Something about him crumples your self-confidence and turns your insides into mush.

“Sure,” you reply with a simple shrug of the shoulders in an effort to hide your own nerves. “I gotta check the rota but it sounds great.” You smile at him and watch as his eyes light up in response.

“Thanks–”

You hear Lucas shout your name from across the pool, his voice getting louder and louder as he approaches. In the short space of time your attention had been focused on Mark, Lucas had somehow managed to shed his shirt. “The kids wanna see you dance.”

“The kids do, or you do?” You quip, folding your arms, a wry smile playing on your lips. “And do you ever keep your shirt on for longer than five minutes?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. There’s only so much I can do up there on my own. You could come and help me out instead of flirting back here.” He pouts playfully.

“I’m not flirting, I’m taking a break. Mark can help.”

He opens his mouth to protest but Lucas cuts in first. “Mark’s not on pool duty. Nice try though.” He roughly slips his hand in yours and pulls you along after him, leaving you no choice but to cut your break short.

“Next week, yeah?” You call over your shoulder at Mark.

“Next week!”

Mark can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy echo in his chest as he watches Lucas lead you away, hand tucked so brazenly in yours, without a care in the world. He figures it’s a long shot, asking you out on a date under the guise of a few birthday drinks but there’s no harm in trying, right? Besides, he sees the way you look at Lucas and something in him sours as he realises you don’t look at him with the same kind of sparkle in your eye.

Lucas twirls you around at the head of the pool, pulling you flush against him before spinning you around again. It could just be his imagination, his envy clouding his judgement, but he sees sparks fly when you meet Lucas’ eyes.

Mark second guesses himself and silently wonders why he should bother. Sure it was always going to be a long shot, but just how far is he willing to shoot?

“Hey shit-head, can you do me a favour?” You march onto the villa patio with your head buried in a sheet of paper; the all important rota.

“With that kind of attitude? Absolutely not.” Lucas mumbles around a mouthful of food. He chases it down with a swig of orange juice before continuing. “What do you need?”

“Can you swap days with me next week? I got something planned on Thursday but I’m scheduled in for a busy day.”

“So?”

“So,” you roll your eyes for nth time already that day. “How about you take the day off tomorrow and I work that shift for you and in return, you work my Thursday shift? Deal?”

Lucas pretends to think long and hard. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?” His eyes twinkle with mischief and the corners of his mouth twitch up in a devilish smirk.

“Nothing.” You deadpan. “You get your day off earlier than usual. That’s it.”

He stands and stretches. “I don’t know...”

“Really?”

Sensing your growing levels of frustration he laughs it off. “I’m kidding. Sure, whatever. I’ll work your Thursday.”

You punch the air in victory, a genuine smile breaking out. “Thank you!” You lean in to give him a quick hug, pecking his cheek as he ducks low. He laughs in surprise and shakes his head as you run off, excited to break the news to Mark.

It was probably nothing, Mark tries to convince himself. He tries to remind himself that whatever he feels for you doesn’t necessarily mean anything and that until he makes those feelings explicitly clear, then there’s no way you can actually know.

You’re not bound to him, you’re not committed or obligated to him and you can do whatever the hell you want with whoever the hell you wanted. But the more he observes you and Lucas and compares the interactions with his, the more he doubts himself. Had he read you wrong? Had he jumped to conclusions, too blinded by his pining to realise that you might not necessarily feel the same?

He wanted to ask about you and Lucas, but couldn’t quite find a subtle way of addressing the matter. There was no way to bring up the little kiss without giving away his true intentions or feelings; no way to address the constant skinship between you and him and if it meant anything.

Perhaps it’s just you as a person and maybe Mark is worrying for no reason. As much as it could mean something, it could equally mean nothing. And it probably was.

Mark sighs as his thoughts come full circle again, the same worries spinning endlessly in his mind. He sets the game console down and huffs again in frustration, unable to quell the raging anxiety in his chest. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and stands up to fetch a pool cue, hoping the level of concentration needed to play will distract him from his thoughts.

He mills around the table for what seems to be the better half of an hour, sinking the striped balls into the pockets, focused and tuned out from the surrounding noises of the reps’ games room.

“Hey!”

Your voice startles him, his hand slipping, missing the ball altogether. He clears his throat to hide his start and turns to face you, though he can’t bring himself to smile.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Since when do you hang about here?”

“I just needed some space,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “The villa can get pretty cramped sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” you agree, sensing something isn’t quite right. “Is everything ok though? You seem a bit... off?”

“I’m fine,” Mark replies a little too quickly. “I’m fine.” He repeats, more composed.

“If you’re sure... I just wanted to let you know I managed to get Thursday off next week for your birthday so we’ve got the whole day to hang out!” The excitement in your voice is genuine, Mark knows that for sure, but the incessant voice in his head tells him otherwise, further planting more doubt in his mind.

“About that,” he starts, but he’s not sure where he’s going with it. The words fall out quicker than he can stop them. “I think I’m just gonna have a quiet day in instead. Temperatures are gonna be sky high so I think it’s best if I just stay out the sun.”

Your face falls and your heart drops to your feet but you do everything in your power to remain composed. “Oh.”

Mark regrets the words the second they leave his mouth and your evident disappointment tugs at his heart. “Yeah.”

The wall mounted tv blares out a sports game, filling the momentary silence before you speak up again, clearing your throat to rid yourself of all emotion. “Well... if you change your mind, I’ll still be free, just... just let me know, I guess.”

“I will.” The two of you stand there awkwardly waiting for the other to make a move. “Wanna play?” He offers weakly in an attempt to mend things but you shake your head no.

“I’m gonna head back home,” you frown and swallow the ball in your throat, trying to keep the hurt at bay. “I’ll see you later.”

You turn and leave without waiting for a response, wanting nothing more than to be alone. You chide yourself for being so childish and try to reason that Mark cancelling had nothing to do with you. He was allowed to change his mind and at the end of the day, you weren’t exactly close friends yet, he didn’t have to report back to you or explain himself to you.

Yet you can’t help but feel at fault, one way or another.

In the days that follow, you notice Mark actively keeping his distance from not only you, but from Johnny and Lucas too. He was never in the same room as them, or you for that matter, and barely spoke a word to anyone.

You can’t help but feel responsible and so you feel an extra sense of responsibility to make him feel better.

Thursday rolls around quicker than you’d have liked and with both Lucas and Johnny gone for the day, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the time ahead.

“Have fun at that thing or whatever you have planned today!” Lucas calls over his shoulder with a wink as he rushes out the front door.

He doesn’t hang around to wait for an answer, so you don’t bother giving one. Mark rolls his eyes and tuts in annoyance, muttering under his breath as he tidies the kitchen.

“Can he make it anymore obvious?”

“Ok, Avril Lavigne,” you laugh softly, but the joke seems to fly over his head. “What are you talking about?”

“His shameless flirting. It’s getting pretty annoying.” He slams the fridge with a tad more force than necessary.

You blink, completely at loss. “You’ve been acting real weird lately and, I don’t know, it’s probably none of my business but what’s going on with you?” You lean on the back of the chair, quietly observing his scrunched up face.

His brows furrow further together, his frown deepening. “Nothing.”

“You plan on spending your birthday like this?” You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow in question.

“That’s up to me.” He tries to push past you but you grab his upper arm gently, your worried eyes searching his.

“Hey,” you say softly, your heart suddenly racing a hundred miles an hour. Up close he looks even more breathtaking and it takes an ungodly amount of composure to hold yourself together. His gaze is stormy, almost angry but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. “Mark, what’s the matter?”

And for a second you expect him to shake you off and ignore another attempt to find out what’s been troubling him. But his eyes soften and beneath his tough boy exterior, he looks upset, hurt almost.

He figures just blurting it out is the best thing to do. What harm could it do now? “I was looking forward to spending time with you...” he admits, but your puzzled expression deepens.

“I was too. But you’re the one who cancelled. I thought maybe you didn’t want to.” You shrug. “No big deal.”

“It was a big deal.” He blurts out.

“Shit happens, you know?” You try and reassure him, thinking that perhaps some emergency had come up or something else he couldn’t avoid had stopped him from spending his birthday like he’d planned. “There’s always tomorrow, or next week, or next month. It doesn’t have to be today–”

“That’s not it,” his teeth worry his lip, chewing nervously.

“I don’t understand. Then what happened?” Your pulse thrums in your ears, blood rushing to your head in anticipation.

“You and Lucas...” he trails off, unsure now. Now that he’s voiced it aloud, it doesn’t seem to make sense.

“Me and that goofball? What about him?” You grow more confused every time he opens his mouth but you eventually put two and two together. “Ohhh,” you draw out the sound, realisation hitting. “You think me and Lucas...?” You gesture with your hands and Mark nods shyly.

You burst out laughing and although Mark doesn’t quite understand, he feels the tension lift from his shoulders. His jaw relaxes and he feels his own lips twitch as he tries to suppress a smile. His cheeks light up again in embarrassment. “What’s funny?”

“I’d rather eat bricks than ever date him. He’s insufferable!” You clutch your stomach as your laughter subsides. “Oh god, I swear, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just– the idea–” your burst into another fit of giggles and Mark starts to chuckle along.

“So you’re not dating?” He asks a final time for clarification.

“Never in a million years.” You shake your head. “He’s a nice guy, really, but we’re just very different. Me and you though–” you clamp your lips together before you let anything else slip, but  the way Mark’s face lights up encourages you to continue. “Uh... me and you should totally go for that drink.”

“His about we go for dinner instead?”

“Dinner? As in, ‘a date’ dinner?”

He pauses for a moment, then nods, his mouth twisting into a grin. “A date dinner.” He pulls you into a tight hug and squeezes your shoulders, his heart beating erratically in time with yours.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you exclaim once you pull away. You lean up on your tip-toes and gently press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Happy birthday.”

[wordsablaze]

Maybe It Was Destiny

It takes Izzy multiple years, a few spiteful quidditch bets, and an enchanted serpent bracelet to find her other half, but it’s more than worth the broken stereotypes and potentially unfashionable reputation in the end… Written for the Maia x Izzy Secret Santa!

A/N: We’ve all been revealed so I can post this here now! Beta'd by the wonderful @ilovelilies so a big thank you to her for checking over this!! <3

Isabelle had always been slightly annoyed she hadn’t had a sister growing up. Of course, she’d loved the way Alec and Jace had protected her, let her train with them, and never left her behind, but there were always certain things she couldn’t share with them. Those are the things she hopes to share with someone at Hogwarts – an opportunity that had literally been magical.

The three of them had gotten their letters on what could have been a regular Saturday but turned out to be the day their lives changed for the better.

The owl on the table had been a shocking yet pleasant distraction from the fact that Izzy hadn’t been allowed to make breakfast that morning. The Lightwood brothers had both sighed with relief, glad their argument could end, and Alec had carefully held out his arm for the owl to perch on.

“Is nobody else a bit weirded out?” Jace had asked.

“It’s only an owl, not a flying rhino or anything,” Izzy had scoffed in reply.

“It’s letters, actually. One for all of us.” Alec had flung their letters to them and frowned when the owl had taken off with no warning whatsoever but quickly turned to his own letter.

“Oh my stilettos,” Izzy had whispered, her eyes wide.

Just as the three of them had read over the letters and started to accept that it was serious if the scarily specific details in the information were anything to go by when Maryse had come in. She’d taken one look at the stamp on the three empty envelopes and sighed, announcing that there would be a family meeting.

After a long hour of explaining and answering questions, she’d fully narrated their brief family history of witches and wizards, also mentioning that neither she nor Robert had been born with any magic so they’d assumed their magical genes had run out, which is why she’d never told them about the possibility before.

“So… where are we going to get all this stuff?” Alec had asked as soon as everything had sunk in, probably just because he was excited to learn more, the nerd.

Maryse had waved a hand and smiled. “We’ll do that tomorrow. For now, you should gather the things you think you’ll need to. And no, Isabelle, that does not mean your entire wardrobe.”

That statement had led her to where she is now, staring at her outfits with her hands on her hips.

“How do I choose between silver and red?” Izzy asks herself.

“You take the blue!” Alec calls from somewhere, his voice echoing and full of suppressed laughter.

Izzy groans and gives up, flopping onto her bed as she opens up the scrapbook of random events she’d been keeping in case someone ever wanted to know more about her. She carefully staples the Hogwarts envelope to one page and writes the date underneath, doodling the two outfits she can’t decide between to avoid having to actually choose between them.

Between gathering the little things like her favourite stationery or jewellery and helping Maryse with the garden’s layout without actually doing any gardening, she didn’t notice how quickly the time passes. When Alec does shout at her to say their lunch is ready, she abruptly realises how hungry she is and gently drops the necklace she was holding, skipping steps on the stairs as she heads to the dining room.

“When does it say you have to be at Hogwarts?” Maryse asks as they start eating.

“The train leaves on Thursday,” Alec replies.

“Good. We’ll probably have to take a few trips to get all of your stuff anyway.”

“Wait, this Thursday?”

“No, last Thursday,” Alec deadpans.

Izzy snorts, then chokes on her water, coughing until her whole face is as red as her lipstick. Jace glowers at her but carries on delicately shovelling food into his mouth, apparently too hungry to care about being mocked by his family.

“Is…” Izzy starts to ask, then changes her mind.

Maryse catches on anyway. “I’m afraid not. Your father has some urgent work he can’t leave half done.”

“So he’s not going to see us off and maybe wish us luck?” Alec asks stiffly, his bitter dissent obvious.

An awkward pause descends over the room as Maryse nods and the siblings share a look, one that’s been exchanged far too many times. The four of them end up finishing their meal in silence and Izzy immediately leaves to skip back upstairs because the boys are on clean-up duty.

“Isabelle, wait.”

She turns around to see Maryse taking a deep breath and frowns for a second before schooling her expression into one of casual inquisition.

“I know it might be strange for you to be away from Alec and Jace so I’ve got something for you.”

Away from them? Izzy pins that thought to the side of her mind before walking back down the stairs. “I don’t understand.”

Maryse smiles, a genuine smile of love and excitement, and for a moment, Izzy thinks she can see how beautiful her mother must have been before the stress of life brought her down; she vows to try and make her mother smile again at some point.

“I know you’re not too fond of weapons but I have a feeling you’ll like this one,” Maryse says, handing Izzy a small, red box.

A small smile gracing her face, she lifts the lid of the box and gasps as she sees the small, intricate, silver serpent’s head. Careful not to damage it, she pulls the whole bracelet out of the tissue paper and watches the way it seems to awaken, shaking itself out and hugging her right wrist.

“It’s magic?” Izzy asks, surprised.

“It is now. It was worth next to nothing in my possession because it had no magic to sync with, but you do. It’s tuned to you and your likings now, it will help you protect yourself.”

“Thanks,” Izzy says softly, and the two of them share a rare embrace.

It’s three years later when Izzy finally decides what she means to her, and it’s all due to the bracelet. Sort of.

It happens halfway into a Quidditch match she’d only agreed to play to spite stupid Camille who’d said girls shouldn’t get their nails dirty. Naturally, she’d just bet she could do it without chipping her nails or ruining her hair – which was a task and a half but she was determined to prove a point. It might have helped that she and Alec had stayed up searching for beauty preservation potions…

Regardless, she’s flying on the borrowed broom with a smug smile on her face when she sees those gorgeous brown eyes watching her, the same brown eyes she’d spotted back at the train station when she was boarding the Hogwarts’ Express for the first time in her life.

Of course, she’d seen the girl here and there in her first year – they even shared a few classes – but it hadn’t been until a game of truth or dare in their second year that she’d really gotten to know the girl.

The two of them had teamed up to sabotage the people who’d insulted Alec and Magnus, both to make a statement that nobody messes with their friends and for the fun of it.

Izzy remembers the first time the curly-haired witch had spoken, her voice echoing everywhere for days afterwards. And, now, as the two of them share a grin from their brooms, Izzy can once again feel her heart beat with an emotion she can’t quite place.

“You tired, Lightwood?”

“You wish, Roberts,” Izzy scoffs, but she’s internally glad they’re talking.

The two of them both spot the golden snitch at the same time, simultaneously diving after it and smirking at each other.

“You’ll never get it!”

“Watch me!”

“I’d rather watch Simon pick his nose!”

“Rude!”

The two of them stifle their yells as they realise they hadn’t noticed how close to the towers they’d been flying. Unfortunately, it’s too late for them to slow down so they both just fly into the fabric. Izzy hits the side, tilting so far she falls off her broom, but before she can freefall, she feels the serpent on her bracelet unravel as it reaches upwards.

“This would be so bad if I had a fear of snakes, you know that, right?”

“Put a sock in it, Maia.” Izzy grits her teeth as she swings herself upwards.

“I thought you didn’t like my socks?” Maia teases, steadying Izzy.

Izzy goes as red as her lipstick.

“I like your bracelet, by the way,” Maia says quietly, the usual loud boom in her voice almost too soft.

“It seems to like you as well,” Izzy replies, smiling as the silver serpent slowly slithers back onto her wrist, leaving Maia’s arm with a gentle flick of its tail.

Maia swears before either of them can comment on that. “Quidditch, Lightwood, quidditch!”

Izzy frowns. “But we’re on the same broom?”

Maia blinks as if she hadn’t noticed, then laughs to herself for a full ten seconds. “Better hold on tight,” she whispers with a gleam in her eye.

“Wait, are you sure abo-?” Izzy manages before they’re zooming forwards, and she can’t help wrapping her arms around the Gryffindor, her eyes squeezing themselves shut in what is definitely not fear at all.

She hears Maia gasp but doesn't think much of it, assuming that the other players had swerved towards them or something. When she does open her eyes, the two of them are zooming towards the golden snitch and there’s an eerie hush in the podiums – a silence that quickly morphs into its usual uproar when Ravenclaw scores, clearly not wanting to miss a single opportunity.

As they’re zooming around the place, following a little golden orb, Izzy tries to remember if they need to win this match or not, statistically rather than pride-wise. Closing her eyes for a moment, she thinks back to her conversation with Alec and their strategic player rota.

“We need to win,” Izzy decides.

“What?” Maia asks, her hair blowing in Izzy’s face.

Izzy coughs. “Ravenclaw has to win. Gryffindor can afford another loss but Ravenclaw will be out of the competition if we lose this match. I have to catch this snitch, Roberts, I have to.”

Maia is silent for an entire minute of wind whistling past them but then she nods. “This is why I like you.”

“I fall off brooms?” Izzy asks, slightly confused but also flattered.

“No,” Maia giggles, “I like you because you’re more than a pretty face.”

“You think I’m a pretty face?” Izzy echoes, smiling.

“A pretty rubbish one, yeah,” Maia scoffs.

“Oh…”

Izzy doesn’t know why she’s bothered by that, she’s faced more than enough haters in her time. Still, she can’t escape the crushing disappointment in her heart when Maia so casually dismisses the idea of her being beautiful.

She watches the snitch unexpectedly change direction and acts without thinking: she jumps.

Having reached for the troublesome globe as she’d left the broom, she feels her fingers wrap around the cool surface of whatever material the snitch is and pushes herself forwards, tilting so that she completes her front flip with her feet firmly settled in the soft sand.

A moment and a half later, the other Quidditch players are whistling and flying down towards her, the podiums either stunned into a respectful silence or cheering their lungs out. She can see Alec cheering for her in the Ravenclaw podium and Jace screams all the way from the Gryffindor section even though his team have lost.

Caught up in the victory, she doesn’t look for Maia until the after-party has died down, which didn’t happen until 3 am the next morning.

Apparently, Maia is also a somewhat night owl because she’s up and about when Izzy finally leaves the Ravenclaw common room to find her owl and send a letter to Max – he’d been adamant to hear from them every month at least so they all send him a letter on a three-week rota. Her owl – named something only Max can pronounce because he’d wanted the satisfaction of naming an animal – has just taken off when there’s an obvious cough behind her.

Izzy jumps, spinning on her heel. “Oh. Maia… hi.”

“Look, I didn’t mean it,” Maia blurts immediately, “your face isn’t pretty rubbish.”

“No?”

“No.” Maia takes a deep breath, her eyes slamming shut as she figures out how to formulate a sentence. “I just said that so you wouldn’t be weirded out.”

“Weirded out?” Izzy asks as the two of them begin walking down the steps, having somehow decided to start moving without knowing.

Maia nods. “Izzy… I- I really like you.”

“I like you too, how else would we be friends?” Izzy smiles but she can tell Maia isn’t done.

“I don’t want to be friends.”

If falling hope had a sound, Izzy might be dead by now. Thankfully, her hope doesn’t have to plummet too far because Maia shakes her head almost immediately. “That’s not what I meant!”

“What do you mean?” Izzy asks quietly.

Maia groans. “I can’t be friends with you, Isabelle Lightwood, because our friendship hurts.”

That’s a new one. Izzy’s been told many things in her life but hearing such a simple yet undecipherable statement throws her brain into disarray. She doesn’t know what to say or how to react so she just bites her upper lip and waits for Maia to explain.

It takes her a few moments but she does. “Your friendship hurts because I want a relationship.”

Izzy opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

Now it’s Maia’s turn to bite her lip, chewing on it as she waits for Izzy to say something, anything. After more than a few beats of uncomfortable silence, she sighs sadly and starts to turn and head back where they came from.

“No, wait!” Izzy calls desperately, hating the break in her voice but hating the thought of losing Maia much more.

“I don’t think we can ‘still be friends’ or whatever, for the record.” Maia folds her arms.

Izzy takes a deep breath and glances down at the serpent on her wrist that seems to flicks its head in encouragement before stepping forwards and gently pressing her lips to Maia’s lips for the briefest of seconds, simply to send a message.

Maia’s eyes widen, her mouth parting in surprise and her hands clenching and unclenching in time with her racing heart. “I…”

Smiling, Izzy lightly nudges Maia. “I love you.”

“Oh?” Maia seems too frozen to utter anything more than that.

“Oh.”

“I mean it, you weirdo,” Izzy giggles.

Maia’s shock morphs into a giddy relief, the corners of her eyes crinkling and her cheeks lifting themselves up as she sighs. A second later, she envelops Izzy in a warm hug, the two of them stumbling as they lose their balance, lost in one another’s arms.

“I love you more than anything, Isabelle Lightwood,” Maia whispers in her ear.

Their matching smiles could light up an eternity of darkness.

It’s two years later, when they’re giggling with one another in the room of requirement, that Maia decides to do something impulsive, and it’s more than a little bit because of the serpent bracelet.

There’d been another match, neither of them playing this time because it had been one of the all-male matches, the all-female one happening the following month. Instead of watching, they’d just practised spells behind a podium, maybe or maybe not from a spell book Magnus had given Izzy for her birthday.

Magnus may or may not have learned how to apparate undetected and Alec may or may not have perfect up Magnus’ spells. Izzy and Maia may or may not have begged them to share their knowledge and Alec and Magnus may or may not have disapprovingly winked before then explaining how to do it, but nobody could gather enough evidence to prove it.

After the match had finished and Alec had given them the signal to say they were free to go, they’d apparated to the corridor. Doing as they’d accidentally learned, they’d slipped inside the room of requirement, giggling to one another.

“Maia!” Izzy laughs as the Gryffindor lifts her up and spins them around.

“What is it, Lightwood?” Maia teases.

Despite the mirth in her voice, she sets Izzy down and the two of them collapse into the beanbags in front of the fire, snuggling into one another two halves of a warm-blooded magnet.

Izzy grins as her serpent bracelet once again slithers along her wrist and around Maia’s, creating a heart shape between them.

Maia smiles at the silver accessory, an idea forming in her mind.

Well, it’s an idea she’s been thinking off for a while but, despite being in the house of bravery, hasn’t had the courage to go through with yet. Taking a deep breath, she slips off the beanbag and kneels up on one leg, pulling out a little box.

She’s never seen someone’s eyes widen as far as Izzy’s do in that moment but she files the mental image for later, smiling widely at her girlfriend.

“I know we’re still young and all but, when we’re older and everything, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” Maia asks, her voice small but full of love.

Izzy can’t even speak, she just squeaks and nods, throwing her arms around Maia and sending them both sprawling on the lush carpet. They’re a giggling mess and Izzy couldn’t possibly be happier, kissing Maia’s nose with a proud smile.

“I really love you,” Izzy manages.

“Is that a yes?” Maia grins.

“A hundred times over,” she replies, blinking back tears.

“You’re going to ruin your makeup, love.”

Izzy laughs and sobs at the same time. “I don’t care. I’d leave fashion behind for you.”

“I guess love is in fashion huh, wifey-wife?”

The two of them share a smile and Izzy pulls Maia up, kissing her wild curls. In return, Maia grins at her and winks, then gasps and swears. “I forgot the flaming ring!”

Izzy dissolves into hysteria. It’s a good few minutes before she catches her breath enough to ask: “You proposed and neither of us noticed we missed out the ring part?”

“I just really love you, you know that?” Maia says sincerely, her hysteria transferring to pure affection and adoration. “I couldn’t love you more if I tried.”

Izzy tries to stifle her smile but fails, blushing so hard she looks like a fresh strawberry. After all, neither of them really care that they don’t have a ring because they’re enough for each other and they don’t need anything to tell them they’re in love.

Well, that’s not strictly true, and they both know it. They owe their relationship to the serpent bracelet that lives both on Izzy’s wrist and in their hearts. Without it, they wouldn’t have flown on that broom together and they definitely wouldn’t have promise-married each other in the room of requirement.

Strange, Izzy thinks, how they found love through the object that only came to her possession through sheer chance – their relationship built along a succession of coincidences and a sprinkling of luck… or maybe it was destiny.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!

[elevenhoursinfront-blog]

10th September 2017

Steve woke me up around 0900. Why Steven, why? To be fair, I wanted to get up and go to the Cardwell market that was on. It's only ever on once a month and from 0730-1230. It's meant to be quite good so I wanted to see it. I just wanted more sleep, too. We got up and got dressed. We left pretty much straight away after brushing our teeth and what ever it is people usually do it the mornings. We took a long stroll down towards the pub because that's where the closest ATM is. We got there, got some cash out and walked back along the market which is on the beach front. There were lovely little stalls, homemade jams, handmade jewellery, bits and bobs for $1. You know the type. There were lovely items that would be nice to buy if you weren't a backpacker and could take it home. The only thing I bought from the market was fresh Pineapple for a couple of dollars. Steve bought an egg and bacon roll. We strolled back and then we were asked if we wanted to go to Coles. I cried inside because I knew we needed to go but I wanted to sunbathe by the pool. Grrrrr! Steve remembered that we needed to put a wash on too so he said that he'd stay and do the washing and I'd go to Coles. That was the safest option. We both went and put the washing it together as we wanted to use the new ones that we a bit of a walk. We got there and put our money in, as well as our clothes. They still only use top loading cold washing machines which are really rubbish. We poured the detergent in first, then the laundry and forgot about the softener, so shoved that in on top. Steve read afterwards that softener isn't meant to be poured directly onto clothes. He went "Eight months in and we still can't put a bloody wash on!". I started laughing. We're useless. We had to ask a lady to find out whether the machine was on or not. I can't wait for a HOT WASH! There were about 8 of us going to Coles which is a good amount of people. It's enough to pay $5 each for the van but not too many so that we can get all our bags in too. Everyone was seriously hungover so I said I'd drive. I put my Vans on and got in the front seat. I've never driven a van before, let alone one that's made in, like, 1900BC. It was alright though. The drive is pretty much a straight line for 45 minutes to Ingham. I got us there with no wrong turns, no SatNav and managed to park in one space perfectly. I am brilliant. We all jumped out, got a trolley and did our shops. I was trying particulary hard not to spend too much money. Steve and I realised before I came that we spent too much already this week and it was payday on Thursday. We are only giving ourselves around $100 for two weeks so it's not like we're spending mad, as you can tell. We just want to try and save as much as possible. What we buy here, means we can't have on the East Coast. I did our shop which took about an hour. I spent $97 which made me want to cry. It's enough food for the next couple of weeks though so it's not too bad. Plus, I'm buying for two. Cat and Hugo spent $100-$130 and they're buying for one. Hugo is from Brazil and starts at the farm tomorrow. He's lovely! I put my shopping in the bag and half of the group were done. We saw a lad from the other Cardwell Hostel in Coles and he was here alone. He asked to use the car for a food shop but their hostel owner said no. Apparently, Jim, is a nasty man. We're lucky with Rod and Leonie here. He got the bus to Coles and has to wait 3 hours for another one. We shoved him into our van and I would drop him back to his hostel. We were on the road again but only for a mere 5 minutes before Danny decided he wanted Dominoes. I pulled over and let the 4 lads jump out so they could get what they wanted. We were waiting for half an hour for them to get their food. We were all getting very aggy sitting in the hot van for ages. On the road, again and Harriet was in the front with me playing music. The journey back always feels quicker which is great. We got back, I dropped the Scottish lad off at his hostel and then got us back to ours. I should've got his name really. He was at our hostel last night but again, I didn't get it then either. Oh well. I took our shopping back to the room whilst almost breaking both my arms. I knocked on the door and Steve had done the housework. What a great egg! He even swept the floor, put an incense stick on, made the bed and folded the laundry away. Alison, he's a changed man (for 5 minutes). Or, he's scared of me. Either one, it worked! We put the shopping away and Steve got excited. I bought him his favourite yoghurt and cookies. They're the fresh Coles ones that you can get for $2. The yoghurt is expensive though, $4.50 on a deal! I told Steve to get the chicken out of the freezer because I was doing chicken fajitas for dinner. Just like Fajita Friday back in Melbourne. Steve was starving when I got back around 1600. This is why I hate doing the Coles food shop, it literally takes up the whole day. Grrr! We got all the stuff together for dinner and walked up to the kitchen. We put our stuff down and went to say goodbye to Tom and Betty who were leaving. They had finished their 3 months! Hugs and what not done, back to cooking. Steve really liked Tom. We made our dinner which was amazing. Chicken, onion and peppers with Mexican seasoning, with sour cream and salsa in wholemeal wraps. Yum! I also done a plate of Doritos with melted cheese, sour cream and salsa on the side. Matt walked in when we were eating in the entertainment room and said that our dinner looked incredible. He walked out, told Ciar to look at our dinner and she walked in. They were both really jealous, and to be fair, I would be too! It was delicious. We finished with our bellies full as they could be. Steve took the stuff back and I washed up. We sat outside our room for a bit when Katie came over and sat with us. She said she was going to the Hitchinbrook Island lookout and look over Cardwell. She was going with Cait, Mitch and Rory. She invited us and we said yes. I asked if there was a walk and they said no, you drive up to the lookout. Fab! We're in. Shoes on, bug spray on and we jumped into the van. We all had a beer each for the view, of course. We drove the 5 minutes and pulled up at the lookout. It was stunning! I took a photo and took it all in. It's difficult when you're travelling to remember to not travel through your phone. You have to try not to take thousands of photos and just take the moment in. Enjoy it. They all decided on going to a lookout further up, which was a 600m walk. I was meant to be resting my leg but I didn't want to stand around waiting so I attempted the climb up. Steve went at my pace with me and we were very much behind. We eventually got to the lookout and it was gorgeous. The sun was just setting, too. Very much worth the hundreds of steps we had just done. The group decided on going to another lookout which was a few more steps but pretty much a flat walk the majority of the way. We got there, after another 15 minutes of walking and the view was unreal. You could see the whole of Cardwell, the coast line and the harbour. You could even see IGA! I was knackered. It's so much more tiring doing it with a poorly leg. Don't get me wrong, we're all stupidly unfit now so it was going to be tiring regardless. We enjoyed the moment, had our beer and watched the sun set even more. Beautiful. We left around 15 minutes of standing and watching. The climb down the stairs were more painful than going up. But, it felt much quicker. I like these walks, I'm definitely going to continue doing them around England when we're back. Our first destination will be Snowdonia in Wales I reckon. We got back to the hostel and chilled in the room. Dad and Ange FaceTimed us for 5 minute which was nice. Blogs done, TV on. That's us for the night. We're in at 0900 tomorrow again rather than 1030. I guess there is no 'rota' for early starters, maybe Vicki likes us.

[datingadviceonreddit]

Heya people! So I posted something in here a short while ago. Basically what the other post was about (which is important to know for this post) is, that I (F 20) met a guy (23) at a party that I really liked. Mutual attraction was definitely present. We ended up making out a lot but he never said anything sexual to me and never touched me anywhere else but my hands and back. So I found that to be very respectful.Starting from that day we first met (last Saturday), he texted me every day and chatted to me for a few hours daily, asking me a lot of questions about anything and everything and sending me a lot of songs he liked. Also on Monday he asked me to go out with him on Wednesday, which I agreed on.That date on Wednesday went really well in my opinion. He made the impression to be very much into me and kind of gave off that "being-in-love" vibe. Felt a bit quick for me, but was fine. Also he kept talking about certain things we had to do together soon, so was making plans in a way. After we had dinner at a restaurant we went to my place to watch a series we both like. The only thing that happened there, was us talking a lot, having a good time and cuddling and making out a lot.He did at some point, when the making out got more intense, try to open up the back of my dress a bit, but I looked him in the eyes and said that I'd rather take it slow. He was absolutely ok with that and we continued making out, cuddling etc for ages. He even seemed the be more into me after I said that.The way he was holding me and holding my hand was seriously like he was absolutely into me. Like he held me to tight and just seemed so smiley and happy and absolutely like he was feeling great around me.When it got quite late and he noticed I was getting super tired (I had to work the next day as opposed to him) he said "I know it's late, don't worry I'll go soon. I'll just stay 15 more minutes and I need to show you some more things" (we watched music videos at that point). But more and more time passed, and he said that a few times but still sticked around, until at some point I said that I really needed to get some sleep, so he left then but it was super late. When saying goodbye he was kissing me again for ages and shortly after he left he texted me "Thank you for the lovely evening. I'm looking forward to watch the next episode with you" and sent me another music video to watch.So all that sounds really great, and I don't know whether I'm overreacting with this now, but on Thursday he didn't text me first after I finished work like he used to the days before our date. So I texted him first, which he replied to instantly. However, tho whole conversation on the Thursday was definitely less than we usually used to text and at some point I fell asleep and woke back up at like 4AM in the morning and replied to his text, which he shortly after replied to. Still not that bad.But the thing is, we were texting today as well, and his response time was just kind of slow, even though he was online in between (screw modern technology for that feature lol). This is just something that makes me insecure since he used to answer quicker before the date and always kept the conversation going by any means.I did also ask him whether he wanted to watch the new episode of that show we watched together next Monday already, he said it would depend on his work rota but he'd definitely be free in the afternoon, which he thought wouldn't be that useful for me since I'd be at work (since he didn't know it was a bank holiday here in the U.K. because he has to work that day). But after I answered that I was off work Monday and could do afternoon, and evening too if he was free, he didn't reply in like half an hour despite being online for a few times. I don't think it ever took him that long to reply despite being online.So me, being a very impatient person who has major trust issues too, I texted him "If you didn't like me anymore with sober eyes, just say it, that's fine!" which he instantly replied to, saying "All great, I didn't know it was a bank holiday because they don't apply to my job. Monday afternoon sounds good to me"And after that we just texted a little bit more and he explained again why he never knew about bank holidays, but he didn't keep the conversation going as actively as before our date, and all in all, despite that that date felt perfect to me and like he was obviously very much interested in me, I do have a weird feeling now.Could someone seem super interested in person but then kind of realise they're not that interested anymore just a few hours after? Or is it normal to not text a girl exceedingly much as soon as it's clear that there's interest from her side present as well? I'm so damn inexperienced with dating, would be great to get some advice from you guys. I'm someone who just wants to know what's going on, I don't want to be left in the dark or waste my time thinking about someone who isn't that much into me anymore potentially. I mean the only thing I can do now anyways is wait and see whether the Monday plans work out, but still this keeps wrecking my brain and I'd feel better if I'd have a clue, in either way.Thanks a lot again in advance! Appreciate it a lot. via /r/dating_advice