in my happy little life

Racetrack was a textbook overthinker— and he’d tell you that himself. Most times, his logic and analysis could get in the way of even the most basic human interactions. But on nights like tonight, when he’d had a few too many drinks and a floaty warmth of disassociation hugged around every edge of his brain, he would relax into the new breathing room in his skull. The blurry space expanding behind his eyelids was a comfort. The world would fall away brick by brick, and what was left was a new understanding of all things, fractured into the simplest of details.

OR

Race is drunk at a college house party, and he has a lot of detailed thoughts about it.

(Based loosely on the song "Details" by McCafferty)

your friendly neighborhood they's been writing again-- this time for Newsies!

this little number (heh, pun extremely intended) is a love letter to my favorite gremlin New Yorkers, Spot and Racer, and it details the timeline of their budding relationship (or simply put, it's Race's pining, counting up!).

4 chaps up so far, 6 more to go! Hope to see you there ^-^