There are no current plans for another Trinity Week unfortunately. Lives got busy and relationships shifted. Maybe there could be one in the distant future, I wouldn’t completely rule it out.
Hi tumblr! How are you today? You're looking particularly lovely, and yes I know I haven't got my glasses on, but regardless I know you look wonderful today. Don't question my powers. They are supreme. Are you all looking forward to the holidays? Me too! I hope you all get to eat wonderful food and lounge around listening to cheesy music with your loved ones.
I wanted to take this time to say thank you for your amazing support and conrtibutions towards Trinity Week. It was my baby for a long time, an idea I've nurtured since around July and seeing it all come to fruition has been just wonderful. You have surpassed my greatest hopes. Thank you for your writing, your art, your manips. The talent in this fandom is tremendous and you have all rallied around this idea brilliantly so thank you from the bottom of my heart.
An extra special thank you goes to hartbigguyz. Jess, you have been the most reliable, organised, encouraging friend and partner in this whole thing and there is no doubt that without you it would never have happened. Let's add this to the count of the many things you have done for me this year. Thank you, as ever, for being my life raft when I struggled to keep my head above the water.
As for any other fics from me, well a few people have asked and the answer is this: I have tons of ideas for stuff I wanted to write for trinityweek and other things. I'm now on a break from school, but I'm ill and tired and seeing family and friends so writing has to take second place to all of these things. I'll write when I can, but hopefully you can be patient with me over the next few weeks.
I'm really sorry this is late, I don't have an excuse I was just re-watching episodes of Carmilla. Anyway... I guess I'll call this one Biscuits.
'Hannah,' Grace whined 'you know I hate this kind of stuff.'
Hannah couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice.
'I know baby but it's Christmas and surprises are what it's all about.'
Grace folded her arms.
'Well as long as you take this blindfold off me sooner rather than later...'
Hannah led her girlfriend in to the living room and stopped her right in front of their 6ft Christmas tree covered in tinsel and bits of hanging biscuits which Hannah had attempted to bake in the style of snowmen and snowflakes.
'Okay,' Hannah said 'stand still.'
Grace laughed at the absurdity of being blindfolded in her own home.
'Can I take it off yet?'
'In just a second baby...'
Grace could hear Hannah rustling some bits of wrapping paper; she shook her head and smiled, what did Hannah have planned for her now?
'And... done! Okay, you can take off the blindfold now.'
'Finally,' Grace said as she took off the blindfold and looked at Hannah and then around the room frowning.
'What am I supposed to be looking at?' Grace asked, almost disappointed.
'Well where do you usually find presents smellbig?' Hannah replied grinning.
Grace immediately looked at the tree they had put up a week ago. She gave Hannah a quizzical look as she got on her knees so she could inspect the pile of presents more carefully.
That was when she saw it.
Grace squealed immediately and covered her face.
'Hannah...' she breathed.
Snuggled in between two wrapped gifts was a small sleeping bulldog puppy with a giant pink bow wrapped around its neck.
Grace very carefully scooped it up into her hands and squirmed at the warm bundle.
'I thought Goose could use a baby sister,' Hannah said quietly.
'Baby, she's perfect,' Grace replied, standing up and cradling the small puppy.
'Then she's just like her new mom,' Hannah grinned.
Grace rolled her eyes. She gently lifted up the gift tag that was attached to the bow. On the card were the words:
Will you marry me?
Grace looked at Hannah immediately to make sure she wasn't on the end of some cruel joke. Hannah stared back at her, unblinking.
'Well,' Hannah asked, getting down on one knee 'will you?'
Grace felt her eyes well up.
'Yes, of course I will dumbass!'
Hannah stood up and put her arms around Grace and the new puppy as Grace let the tears fall to her cheeks.
'I love you,' Grace whispered.
'I love you too,' Hannah replied, placing her hand on the small puppy 'and you as well little one.'
'What shall we call her?' Grace asked, stroking the tiny creature.
'Well what do you think? I got her for you after all,' Hannah replied taking one of her misshapen biscuits off of the tree and cramming it into her mouth.
Grace looked at Hannah wiping away the crumbs from her mouth.
'We'll call her... Biscuit,' Grace replied and gave the small bulldog a kiss.
You asked, I delivered. Vampire/Carmilla Hartbig AU, for the trinityweek theme Unexpected.
SFW, SFF, 2,989 words. More fics.
Huge thanks to hartbigguyz for so many things, but specifically betaing this fic.
Hannah can't help but think there's something weird about her new roommate.
Grace only took the bed on the right of their tiny dorm room a few weeks ago, but in that small space of time Hannah has noticed the strangest activity from the quiet, leggy blonde who barely fits on the tiny, campus regulation bed. Sometimes Grace stays out late, returning with dark rings under her eyes and stacks of books in her arms, but most of the time she will sleep until dawn, before waking up, making a terrified face and throwing on clothes before she bolts from the dorm room. Hannah has inspected her wardrobe and found, with surprise that it consists mainly of sweatpants and large sweaters, with one or two rather shapeless dresses thrown in for good measure. Grace seems to live mainly off strong cups of coffee, which she always buys from some coffee shop on campus, rather than make her own. Hannah has to be grateful though, because judging by the state of the few dishes she does use and rarely washes, Grace's hygiene leaves a lot to be desired. She's pretty sure the girl has only done her laundry once, maybe twice, since first moving in.
Not only that, but Grace barely seems to talk to her. They hung out in her first few days in the room, but after that Grace drifted away. At first Hannah thought it was normal, thought she was meeting people who were on her course or at societies or clubs, but the longer their strange standoff went on, the stranger it seemed to become to Hannah. Now whenever they talk Grace can barely seem to look at her without becoming flustered and short tempered. Hannah can't figure out why, she's a pretty good roommate as they go. She's clean, she works and sleeps more normal hours than Grace, and while she's partial to a drink she barely ever makes noise when she comes home drunk, or at least not as far as she remembers. Still, Grace's determination not to associate with her has soon become the norm and it barely bothers her.
That is, apart from days like today.
It's raining outside, as it often does, a long heavy rain that has kept Grace cooped up from the Saturday jog that she usually gets around to at some point in the late afternoon and foiled Hannah's plans to meet her friends near one of the abandoned churches on the outskirts of town for a catch up. Instead, they are both sat in their room, Hannah on one bed with a stack of books in front of her and Grace on the other, slumped forward over her laptop.
They work in silence which would be comfortable if Hannah didn't have to suffer the furtive glances that Grace is shooting across the room at her every few seconds. She tries to focus on the page in front of her. Her headphones are in, playing a soft classical mix; she has no time for this new music and while she enjoys some soft jazz from time to time she mostly favours classical. The words on the page are talking about classical art history, something she hasn't learnt about in years and she's mostly enjoying the classes, staying on top of her work as she always does. She takes her highlighter to the page, but just as she runs it over the paper Grace jumps suddenly from the bed, so fast that it startles Hannah.
She feels a flash of irritation run through her as the highlighter veers across her page, leaving a yellow stain on the crisp white page and tears her headphone out as Grace stretches and begins to pad across the room towards the bathroom.
"Hey, you screwed up my work." The words fall from her mouth in almost a hiss and Grace frowns at her, as if barely remembering she was there for a moment, before her eyes clear and her lips press together stubbornly.
"Well sorry." Her words are harsh and sarcastic. "No need to freak out. I'm just going to the bathroom."
"Yeah well," Hannah struggled for the right words and settles lamely on. "Next time, think before you move so fast."
"Sorry," Grace repeats, her eyes flickering away hastily. "Yeesh."
As the door closes behind her Hannah pushes her book to one side and runs a hand through her hair, sighing softly. She's not sure how she'll manage with a whole year of Grace. It's only the fourth week of their cohabitation, but already Grace is making her want to scream.
There's an impossible headache forming behind her eyes and she levers herself up, sighing heavily. Across the room stands their tiny fridge and she approaches and bends down inside to grab her bottle, taking a long swig before replacing it. Her eyes wander over what is supposed to be Grace's work space and she wrinkles her nose at the old coffee cups littering it and the many wrappers of junk food that she can see scattered around. She reaches out to pick one up, but behind her the bathroom door slams open and Grace's voice, loud and alarmed, startled her so much that she jerks away.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"Nothing!"
Grace approaches her quickly and Hannah takes a stumbling step away. "Why were you snooping through my stuff?" She demands, harshly and turns as if to protect her desk from Hannah's prying eyes.
"I wasn't! Jesus Grace, calm down!" She retreats to her bed, but doesn't return to her book, instead keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Grace.
"You clearly were!" Grace still looks agitated, looking between her and the desk. "I just- I don't know why you would be so nosey Hannah!"
"I'm not being nosey! I have no interest in the junk on your desk, trust me." She rolls her eyes because god when did Grace get so exhausting?
"That's not what it seemed like." Grace finally pries herself out of her defensive stance in front of the desk and flops back down on her desk, giving Hannah a baleful glare. "Just stay away from me."
"That's going to be hard, considering we live in the same room." The snipe escapes her quickly and she sees Grace's eyes harden before she stands rapidly again and stomps over to her desk, returning with a roll of parcel tape.
She bends down and begins to tape her way across the floor and Hannah feels something snap inside of her. In an instance she is beside Grace wrestling the tape from her hands and tossing it so hard across the room that something cracks behind her.
"This is ridiculous."
She's never been this close to Grace, can see the girl's pupils dilating as she stares up at Hannah. She smells incredible, she realises abruptly and wow, that thought is so inappropriate that she pulls quickly away, turning for a moment so that Grace can't see the sudden flush in her cheeks.
"We are not children. If you have a problem with me just tell me."
"I don't have a problem!" Grace has scrambled away and is curled up on her bed again, eyeing Hannah distrustfully.
"Well that's blatantly not true." She snaps in return, sitting forward on the bed to glare at Grace across the room. "You treat me like I've... killed your puppy or something! Like I'm some sort of pariah! What's your deal?"
Grace is obviously struggling, eyes creased fiercely and she fumbles for words for a moment before saying, hurriedly. "You're a terrible roommate!"
"A..." She trails off, flabbergasted. "A terrible roommate? You have to be kidding me."
"You are!" Grace is almost pouting now, crossing her arms like a stubborn child.
"You're the worst roommate ever!" She stands so quickly that Grace physically flinches, but Hannah can't bring herself to care as she paces back and forth in the tiny space between their beds, perhaps slightly faster than normal. "You're dirty! You never wake up at normal times! You treat me terribly! You don't see me going crazy on you for that!"
"I'm not-" Grace bites off the end of her sentence, as if stopping herself from speaking and when she finally opens her mouth again, her words are sharp and short. "Let's just... leave it."
Hannah pauses beside the blonde's bed, hands on hips, glaring down at her with breaths heaving in her chest before she finally gives up and sits heavily on her bed. "Fine."
They work for another hour or so in silence, before Grace is up again, pacing around the room restlessly. It's irritating, every movement is annoying and she tolerates it for as long as you can until something within her snaps and she pulls out her headphones again to say, harshly.
"Just go out if you're so upset about being this close to me."
"Are you kidding?" Grace gestures angrily to the window, where a flash of lightning lights up the sky abruptly, piercing through the rain that is smothering the campus. It's followed moments later by a crash of thunder that makes Grace cringe and edge away from the glass. "I'm not going out there."
"Then go sit in the corridor." Hannah mutters, eyes falling back to her books.
"No." Grace snaps. "This is my room too and I'll use it if I want to." As if to underline her point she storms across the room and Hannah watches, almost amused, from beneath her eyelashes as Grace plants herself firmly on the comforter.
"Well you clearly don't want to be here..." she remarks after a moment's silence.
"Listen here!" Grace explodes, standing suddenly from the bed again to glower at her, advancing in steady steps until she's standing directly above her, practically quivering with rage. "It is not my fault that I ended up sharing a room with a 400 year old, blood sucking vampire! So forgive me for being uncomfortable!"
A beat.
Silence envelopes them like fog and a flash of lightning through the room again illuminates the horrified expression on both of their frozen faces.
Suddenly, a crash of thunder roars through the room and with something close to a crack the lights flicker off. Grace lets out a squeak of alarm and falls to the bed in surprise.
"D-Did you do that?" Grace's voice sounds very small, coming from the dark beside her, where only her advanced vision can vaguely make out the terror on her face.
"If only I could." She comments, wryly and stands fluidly. "Just a power outage, don't worry." There are candles of Grace's on the desk, scented ones that Hannah abhors because their scent is so pungent to her, but she pulls the lighter from her pocket to light them and the room emerges again, bathed in shadows.
A knock comes from the door and Grace startles once again, before the door swings open and their floor manager, a girl called Pearl, pokes her head around the door.
"Hey, you guys okay?"
"Fine," Grace smiles shakily and Hannah manages to nod, just once.
"Great, power should be back on soon, but for now we want you guys to just sit tight in here okay? No roaming the corridors, it's not safe."
Hannah nods again and Grace's smile widens to appear slightly manic and Pearl disappears behind the door again. Carefully, Hannah moves to sit on Grace's bed, perching there gingerly. The bed sheets smell of some flowery detergent and outside air and something else that is undeniably Grace and for a moment Hannah allows herself to be wrapped up in it before observing the girl across the room with scrutinising eyes.
"How long have you known?" She asks finally and Grace seems to curl further in on herself, suddenly too afraid to even meet her eyes.
"A... week or so into the semester. I... checked out your soy milk carton because I needed some and... there was blood in it."
"Right," Hannah nods once, raising her eyes to the ceiling for a moment. "That would make sense."
"Then I... approached some friends and they said it was obvious you were a vampire and I just sort of... freaked out."
"That's why you've been acting so weird?" Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Grace's nod. "Well Jesus, you could have just said something you know."
"Well... I didn't know what you would do." She hesitates for a moment, before asking. "What are you even doing here? Why is a vampire going to college?"
"Hey, I love college!" She smiles as cheerfully as she can. "It's the best time of your life! This time I'm doing all sorts of classes, but I think I'll major in biology or something, I've never done that before."
"How many times have you even been to college?" Grace is reluctantly curious, dark eyes gleaming in the candle light.
"Oh you know, thirty or so times." She shrugs, but Grace almost falls off the bed.
"Thirty? But... why? Are you just trying to... learn stuff? I never pictured a vampire as needing an education."
"Well, when you have eternity you have to figure out what to do with it." Her smile saddens, just slightly.
"I didn't... I thought you just ran around eating people." Grace runs a hand through her hair, pushing back messy blonde locks impatiently.
"That's why you were such a bitch?" Her smile turns ironic, wry. "You thought I was going to use your neck as a chew toy?"
"I was terrified!" Grace cries in her defence and her voice drops abruptly. "I still am to be honest."
"Hey," in moments probably too short for Grace's human mind to comprehend, Hannah is sat on the bed beside her. "You have nothing to be scared of. I won't eat you, I swear."
"You swear?" Grace's eyebrows twist sceptically and she lets out a strangled bark of laughter.
"Well, not unless you ask me to."
Grace's mouth drops open at that and Hannah hurries to speak again.
"Sorry, sorry! Too early for jokes?" She smiles a little sheepishly.
"Just a bit," Grace's laughter turn more shakily relieved before she laughs again, this time a disbelieving breath of air passing through her lips. Hannah wonders for a moment what the air tastes like, wishes she could remember as the air in the room passes over her long dead tongue, before she's brought back to the present by Grace's shaking head and her words. "That's... I mean the crazy thing is I-" she goes suddenly pink and her words are once again bitten off.
"Hey, no," Hannah reaches out, can't help but run a hand over impossibly warm skin, just for a moment. "Tell me."
"I just... god I was so mad at you because in our first few days I really started... crushing on you." Grace has turned beet red and refuses to meet her eyes. "And then you turned out to be some undead being."
"You... crushed on me?" The words sound unreal to her and she stares at Grace, blinking slowly as the girl uncurls herself, finally meeting Hannah's gaze.
"I did... god, I do." She shakes her head at herself. "It's ridiculous and I feel so stupid because I look at you and I know you're dangerous and I know you could kill me in seconds but all I can think of is kissing you. It's just so stupid because you're the enemy and I am not becoming that girl from Twilight because she pisses me off so much but you're just-"
Her words feels like they're thundering like horse's hooves around Hannah's head, trampling her brain and so when she veers herself forward, she thinks it's only to stop Grace from talking, but their lips crash together and suddenly Hannah's hands are cupping warm cheeks and after a second tentative fingers are creeping into the cloth of her tank top, tightening in it as if anchoring Grace to the earth.
They separate when Hannah realise Grace is getting short of breath and stare at each other through the dim light.
"Sorry," she murmurs, finally, unable to tear herself away from the vivid mahogany of Grace's eyes. If eyes could show a whole life, then Hannah thinks Grace's would be a cartwheel of colour and light, so bright are they with the spark of humanness within her. "I just really needed you to stop talking."
"That's okay," Grace breathes and the hands at her waist tug her closer and suddenly there are lips and teeth and tongues again and her eyes flicker shut. Hannah's dead heart is thundering in her chest and she can hear the race of Grace's blood in her veins, just inches below skin as delicate as lace.
"Hey," she whispers, when they separate again and Grace catches her breath. "Just so you know, I really like this whole mouth situation we have going on."
"Me too," Grace's lips quirk again and she presses a quick peck on Hannah's lips again, before the lights flicker on again above them.
For a moment Hannah feels a flood of dread, that in the cold industrial light now shining down on them Grace will see her for what she truly is, but the girl only rises slowly, dark eyes fixed to Hannah before she steps away. Her cheeks are flushing when she grabs her towel and wash bag from the end of her bed and says, shyly.
"I'm gonna go shower while I can."
"Okay," Hannah watches her go, mind still addled and when Grace gets to the bathroom door, she turns and says, with a little more confidence.
"Hey, when I come back we should carry on the whole mouth thing."
The door slams shut behind her and she falls back on the bed with a soft humph and a long breath of air.
"Well, that was unexpected."
Well? Lots of you asked for Hannah to be the monster in the next fantasy AU, I hope this worked as a twist. Did you expect Grace to be the vampire? Let me know in my ask box!
Seems as if Trinity Weeks has given Hartbig a breath of fresh air. It's like every fic writer in this fandom made a vow to revive the mothership for the holidays. I'm loving it.
This is for todays theme of ´Through the Years´ for Trinity Week. I don´t know how I feel about this one, wasn´t really sure if I should post it, but I apparently did, so....
SFW;NSFF
I stopped breathing when her heart ceased to beat.
I stopped moving when her body turned to stone.
I stopped thinking when all her thoughts disappeared into thin air.
I stopped feeling when the last emotion left her eyes.
I stopped living when her existence became history.
----------------
I hear someone talking, yet it is somehow silent, people are touching me but I don´t feel anything. Everyone is dressed in black and I look down at myself and I am too dressed in black.
I see Mamrie talking, I don´t know what she is saying, her eyes wander to me while she talks. She looks worried. My son is to my right, squeezing my hand. He leans in and whispers into my ear, I hear him but I don´t understand, is that normal? Is this how people feel after death? Part of me is still alive, I am certain of that, because I see my other part lying in front of me.
She looks so peaceful, like she doesn´t have a care in the world, she looks like all those mornings I would wake up to see her sleeping. But she won´t wake up this time to make fun of my goofy smile and insult me in the most loving way you could imagine. I can see all those years carved into her face, it´s made her more beautiful, the time I have shared with her, every little wrinkle. I´ve memorized them all, in fear of forgetting them, forgetting the first one I noticed when she held our son for the first time and the last one when I made her breakfast in bed two weeks ago. She´s wearing my favorite navy blue dress of hers, and it´s capturing her body, like I used to at night, and her skin looks as soft as it felt under my lips, tangled in sheets. I don´t dare to imagine the coldness I would feel under my fingertips if I touched her now, cause I don´t want to forget the heat radiating from her body, the redness that would still creep up her face after 50 years when I held her hand.
Now I am standing here, in front of all my loved ones, all eyes are sadly looking at me, pity dominating their emotions, they want me to talk. What could I possibly say? She doesn't deserve a cliché speech about how great her life had been, how much she was loved or that she was in a better place now. Because she isn't. The best place she could ever be is next to me, not beneath the ground, under our feet.
We were one person, she was my other half, the left side of my body.
A person can't stand on one leg forever, though that's the only thing that's giving me hope, that despair isn´t forever. That one day we will be together again, my time will come, whether it's in 5 weeks, 5 months or 5 years. And when it has come I will accept it with open arms, anticipating the moment I will wrap my arms around her.
Until then I will continue to exist, dreading every morning I have to wake up to an empty bed, I will smile but never laugh, I will be sad but never devastated.
It will never be the same until it ends, the 50 years I've spend happily with her won't be nearly enough to make the few I have left without her, bearable.
I see what she has left behind; our son is holding his children on each hand , Mamrie has her face buried in her husband's neck. In that moment I realize that she didn't leave me all alone, these people love me and I love them, they are all I've left now and they will give me a purpose until-
"Hannah?" Mamrie calls out my name. How long have I been standing here?
"Sweetheart? You don't have to say anything, if you don't-"
"No, I... I want to" I interrupt her and I see her understanding that I have to do this. And with all the strength I could muster I say
Grace's feelings for Mamrie are almost like motion sickness.
For as long as she's known, Mamrie has been her best friend. In kindergarten the redhead bounces into the classroom with her hair in braids, one shoulder of her blue dungarees slipping down a skinny arm and lands with a thump and a wide grin next to Grace in the sandbox. In second grade Mamrie runs into class ten minutes late and smiles a gap toothed grin across the room at her, sticking her tongue through the newly formed gap in her smile. When they were both eleven and she's Mamrie's bridesmaid when she marries Johnny Redmoor on the playground.
At the last moment Mamrie throws down the hastily picked bunch of flowers and declares dramatically that she can't go through with the marriage, before grabbing Grace by the hand. They run and run and run, giggling crazily, until they are out of sight of the other children and for those few moments Grace's world has narrowed to Mamrie and Mamrie alone and it's exhilarating.
In middle school they plan adventures. They'll climb the biggest mountains in the world, sail the high seas, ride on wild horses through the desert. They'll visit every country, eat every food, play every instrument. They'll be vets and musicians and lawyers and acrobats. Grace listens, enthralled, as Mamrie paints the pictures with her words and dutifully makes notes and lists and marks calendars.
Even as they grow up and move into high school they remain as close as sisters. When Mamrie is the first to be kissed, by Johnny Redmoor incidentally, she skips first period to find Grace in the library and whisper the news to her in excited breaths. After her first, inevitably messy breakup, Mamrie helps her build a blanket fort in her room and they stay up all night, eating ice cream and commiserating together. Then Grace gets her license and they take her mom's car and drive and drive and drive until they hit the sunset and then they lean on the hood and watch it cast slow, long rays through the sky.
Sitting there, silent and content, Grace thinks that she could perhaps never be happier.
Then Mamrie says, quite suddenly. "Do you ever think we're wasting our lives?"
"What?" It comes as a surprise, startling Grace from her reverie and she turns on the hood to peer at the girl through the dim light.
"I just-" Mamrie lets out a heavy sigh and a sense of mournfulness comes to her face that Grace has never seen on her before. At that moment a car speeds past on the highway behind them, loud and bright and Grace squints her eyes against the light. When she opens them again Mamrie's face is back to normal and she's sliding off the bonnet easily, letting her skirt fly up around her waist.
"Come on," she says, when she sees Grace hesitating, "we still have all of the geometry work to do for tomorrow."
And Grace does follow, but uncertainly because the expression she saw on Mamrie's face scared her, just a little. It was restless and sad in a way that she struggles to comprehend and she looks at Mamrie curiously as she slips into the driver's seat. She opens her mouth to say something, but Mamrie reaches across to turn on the radio and Grace takes the hint. She vows to bring it up in the next few days, just to make sure Mamrie is okay.
She doesn't, of course, because Mamrie is just like she normally is and plus she made it pretty clear that she had no desire to talk about it, so Grace happily forgets the incident, putting it down to sentimentality and a weird amount of introspection.
High school gets harder and, Grace finds, weirder. Mamrie starts doing drama seriously and Grace sees her less because she's always at this run through or that tech rehearsal, constantly pulled into a group of equally busy, equally loud girls and Grace, it seems, fades into the background a little.
Which is why when she first kisses a girl, she doesn't tell Mamrie. She's at a party, Mamrie's around somewhere but Grace lost her long ago and so she's left alone, sat awkwardly on a couch with a drink in one hand and her phone in another, wondering how long it will be until she can leave, when a blonde haired, blue eyed figure slides in beside her.
"Hey," the girl smiles and holds out a hand. "I'm Hannah."
Hannah, it turns out, is from a school in another district and has all sorts of interesting views on politics and art and science, the kind of views that she can talk to Grace about without making her feel like an idiot. She's funny too and kind and genuine, and her eyes are very, very blue, so when Grace ends up making out with her in the spare room after several drinks, she doesn't feel that bad.
They keep in contact a little and Hannah drives the two hour drive into town to see her a few days later, when she realises that Grace is having a minor freak out about kissing her. She's kind and promises Grace she expects nothing from her and she knows that the blonde may have to figure some things out, but once she does maybe she could give Hannah a call. It never happens, but they still text and Grace forms a sturdy friendship via skype and text with Hannah, who lets her ask all of her stupid questions about sexuality and doesn't laugh much.
She never gets round to telling Mamrie and after a while it feels like too long has passed without her mentioning it, so she keeps it quiet. The issue arises when Mamrie insists they reconnect over summer and they end up spending a lot of time at the beach, where suddenly Grace has to work really hard not to look at Mamrie in her bikini. It's weird, like a sudden jolt of travel sickness, when she realises that she's thinking about Mamrie in that way.
She feigns a migraine and spends ten hours at home, freaking out. She feels dirty, like a pervert, for thinking of her best friend in such a way. It feels so innately wrong, but there's no denying that she can't stop thinking about Mamrie's mouth on hers, her hands on skin as white as cream, hands tangling in locks made from flames. After several days of locking herself in her room, she skypes Hannah, who tells her implicitly that there is nothing to worry about and this happens often. It calms her down and she manages to join Mamrie for the rest of her beach trips without being overcome by guilt.
Still, she definitely avoids Mamrie coming into their senior year. It's easy to, they have finals coming and college applications to write and things generally start to heat up, so Grace spends hours in the library, trawling through books and making notes and essay plans. When she isn't in the library, she's at work and when she isn't at work she's running around her local park, so between everything she manages to keep herself insanely busy throughout the fall and over the holidays. She and Mamrie still hang out, still talk, but there's a definite distance where there never used to be and sometimes she catches Mamrie staring at her through the hallways, looking almost confused and she has to tear herself away, giving the girl a friendly wave.
She gets so busy that it comes completely out of the blue when she rounds one of the corners in the library and finds Mamrie, sat on the floor between the shelves, head in her hands, convulsing with silent tears. On instinct she drops everything- old habits die hard- and falls to the floor beside the redhead, wrapping two long, awkward arms around her.
"Mamrie, Mames, shhh. It's okay, it's fine." She rocks her back and forth and feels desperate fingers cling to her, pulling her closer and closer until she can smell the faint whiff of whiskey on Mamrie's breath when she whispers, hoarsely.
"Grace. I'm so fucking scared."
"What?" She tries to pull back to look at her. "What do you mean?" But Mamrie is only crying harder, burying her head in the crook of Grace's neck and she pats her hair softly, "Please Mamrie. Please tell me."
"I can't," Mamrie rasps out. "It's too fucking embarrassing."
"Please," the sound of the girl's sobs are breaking her heart, slicing right through her like shattered glass and she clings closer to Mamrie, as if she can hold her together, catch the bits as she falls to pieces in her arms. "Please, I'll do anything for you Mamrie. Anything."
"Anything?" Mamrie's sobs subside, just a little and she nods, enthusiastically as the redhead pulls back to look at her. "Anything at all?" Grace can only nod again, watching with hopeful eyes as Mamrie wipes at her eyes and straightens her shoulders, mouth set in a hard line when she says. "Drive me somewhere. I don't care where. Just get me away."
----
They drive for twenty minutes in silence. Grace tries to ask, tries to question her friend, but Mamrie rebukes her with a simple shake of her head and her eyes remain fixed on the countryside that flashes past them as they drive out of town. Grace feels helpless and lost and so she keeps driving because really, what more can she do? It's only after twenty more minutes that Grace finally says, as they pull up to a traffic light.
"You have to tell me what we're doing." She keeps her hands on the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead, but she can picture the way that Mamrie hunches, grits her teeth as she grunts.
"No I don't."
"You do, or I'm pulling this car over." The light changes and she pulls away angrily, wheels spinning a little against the road and Mamrie's eyes widen for a moment.
"Christ Grace, calm down."
"Tell me what's wrong." She demands, stubbornly and she both feels and hears Mamrie's intake of breath beside her, the everlasting sign that she's preparing for an argument.
"No, Grace. I'm not telling you!"
"You don't think I deserve to know?" Grace retorts and as the car spins around a corner she sees Mamrie heave, but is too furious to comment on it. "I'm the one who dropped everything, who drove her drunken best friend out into the middle of nowhere just because of a whim!"
"It's not a whim! And some best friend you are!" Mamrie is standing her ground, as Grace knew she would, but her face is pale and her knuckles are white from gripping the door handle.
"What's that supposed to mean?" They take another fast turn on the winding road and Mamrie suddenly slams her hands against the dashboard in front of her.
"Stop!" She sounds so alarmed that Grace pulls to an immediate stop, pulling into the side of the road to stare at her friend in surprise as Mamrie slams open the door and launches herself out. There's a few moments' silence and then the unmistakable sound of retching hits her and she lets out a soft groan, reaching into the back of the car for the lukewarm water she'd brought for track and field later that day.
When she finds Mamrie, the redhead is slumped on the dusty ground, on her knees. Red tendrils fall from her messy top bun and around her face, but Grace can still see the tears that trail down her cheeks and the sobs that shake her shoulders. It's instinct to go to her, perch carefully on the ground and wrap an arm around her shoulders, passing over the water to watch in silence as her friend washes out her mouth and then tosses back a few long mouthfuls. Her fingers rub a pattern against the soft fabric of Mamrie's shirt and she lets her eyes wander onto the empty horizon as she feels Mamrie's breaths steady slowly beneath her, falling into an even rhythm.
A comfortable quiet follows, which is as far as possible from the stiff, angry silence in the car .
After a few long moments Mamrie relaxes, falling into Grace's ready embrace and Grace holds her, brushing at the tears on her cheeks with the soft pad of a thumb because really she's only human and her best friend is crying beside her, although the touch feels ridiculously tender and Grace has to stop herself pressing a kiss to the top of Mamrie's head.
"Want to tell me?" She says finally, voice soft and Mamrie shifts a little in her embrace, uncertain, before answering at last.
"I guess." A long, shaky breath follows and Grace realises with sudden clarity that Mamrie is trying to muster the courage to tell her something and that abruptly scares her, because Mamrie is the bravest person she's ever met. "I'm failing."
"What?" It feels almost like an anticlimax, which she knows in her heart is wrong.
"I'm failing. Math and History." Mamrie lets out a laugh that is so choked it could well have had the life strangled out of it to become a sob. "I'm barely scraping the grades I need. I can't get into colleges, I don't think I even want to."
"I... I..." She flounders, searching for words but coming up empty. She's never been the articulate one, never known how to make people feel better and so she settles for squeezing Mamrie's shoulder softly and saying. "You don't have to go to college."
"I do though?" The little strangled laugh makes a reappearance and Grace thinks it might be the saddest sound she's ever heard. "I have to get a degree if I want anything out of life, we both know that."
"But you want to be an actress! You don't need anything for that!"
"That's not the point!" Mamrie slams her fist down into the dirt, sending up a cloud of dust that settles on their clothes and skin. "I want to be able to! I was never dumb, how did this happen?"
"I didn't... Mames I had no idea this was happening." Guilt rips through her like a whirlwind, almost swallowing her whole and it's only Mamrie's bitter words that keep her grounded.
"Of course you didn't, we've barely spoken."
"That's not true." She falters. It is horrendously, blatantly true.
"It is and you know it." Mamrie heaves herself suddenly to her feet, holding her head as she tips a little and Grace hurries to follow her. "We just stopped hanging out Grace! When did that happen? Why did that happen? I feel like life got away with me and I just... if I did something wrong I have to know Grace, please!"
"You didn't!" Her arms come up to wrap around her and she feels the prickling of dread on her neck, like fate running a fingernail over the soft skin. "It was nothing..."
"Stop lying to me!" Mamrie's voice cracks again, threatening tears and Grace hurries to abate them.
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" She holds out her hands, trying to pacify Mamrie. "I'll... I'll tell you." Grace is a terrible liar and Mamrie knows it, which leaves her with one last horrible choice: the truth. "I um... well... I figured out that I liked girls and I didn't know how to tell you."
"What?" Mamrie's jaw drops and her eyes crease together incredulously. "You pulled away because you were worried about me knowing you were gay?"
"I've known since we were in fourth grade, Grace! When you always wanted Princess Peach and Princess Daisy to move in together and forget about Mario. It's not rocket science."
"Wow," she blinks, suddenly stunned. "But um... there was more." Her chest is tightening but now that she's begun she can't seem to stop. "I sort of... developed a crush on you. It's fine! I have it under control and you don't have to worry or anything... but just for full disclosure and stuff."
Mamrie cuts her off with a hand to her lips. "You had a... crush on me?"
"Please don't freak out." Her whole world as teetering, like a jenga tower with a piece precariously pulled.
"I'm not... I just wish you'd told me. I mean," she pushes her hair back and takes a tiny step closer that makes all of the hairs on Grace's body stand on end. "I'm not gay... but I'm always open to experimentation and... I love you Grace Helbig. More than anyone else in the world."
She careens forward and presses whisky soaked lips clumsily to Grace's. She's so shocked that the blonde almost stumbles away, but instead she manages to bring her hands to rest at Mamrie's hips, holding her gently as they share a fumbling kiss, before Mamrie pulls away again, smiling at her shakily.
"Good to have you back Helbig."
"Good to be back," her smile is wide, wide, wide and she can feel the ache building in her cheeks. "I'll help you study by the way."
"Really?" Mamrie's eyes light up.
"Oh yeah," she holds out a hand to gesture to the car and follows to shut the door behind her friend. "Nobody fails on my watch."
---
This is the first Mace fic I've written so let me know what you think in my ask box! Sorry it's a little late, but timing has never been my strong suit. I may write more Mace in the future, I really enjoyed it!
