#imagine if I hadn’t opened that random email a couple years ago?

[bookwyrminspiration]

opened a random email in high school now I get college paid for and 2k a semester for being hispanic. I didn’t even do it on purpose

[contorted-curruptions]

*-Mug Shot-*-Poly KiriBaku X reader-*-part one-*

Note: Surprise Saturday, I got carried away with the story and thought it might be best to section it off in two parts so you’ll be getting this one and another post tomorrow peeps, I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a story like this one. Smut is not in this one so if you are looking for that you’ll find it tomorrow, until then please feel free to enjoy this. Also all characters are aged up and the time the story takes place is when they are already pro heroes, so keep that in mind.

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Running, running, the sound of bare feet harshly pounding across the hard surface of the ground below. The pavement cold and merciless on your bare feet, you feel the damage from all the running with no shoes.  As you run the sound of your terror echoes out across the soundless night, the streets so empty, not like how they usually are in the daytime. Not a soul will hear you and if they do it’ll be a little too late. It’s dark and only the street lights give you any semblance of where you are going. You hear and feel your heartbeat pounding away in your chest, that feeling becoming more painful with each pound. You feel yourself falter a bit more but you can’t afford to stop, can’t afford to stop running even for a minute. You know they have to be hot on your tail, know they won’t waste time in giving chase once they know you have fled the scene, that most horrifying scene that you left behind. The images flash through your mind as you ran churning your stomach and bringing fresh tears to your eyes. You stifle a sob but that makes your chest clench most painfully but worst of all in this panic while you turn into an alleyway you haven’t noticed the glass scattering across the entrance of the alley. Though you become sorely aware of it once your feet make contact with the shards causing you to let out a scream at the pain shooting through the fresh wounds the glass makes. You wind up tumbling to the ground, you scuff up your hands and knees as you make contact earning more painful noises from you. You fell unceremoniously on the ground in a small heap. Those sobs you kept in achingly inside your chest burst out and you howl out, hot tears now streaming down your face.

For a moment you lose your resolve while you lay there in that heap on the pavement. The pain from all the running through the city catching up with you. Your breathing erratic and you are finding it hard to catch the breath that you lost during this chase. You feel dizzy, your entire body aching in agony, and for this time all you can focus on is the sheer panic coursing through your entire form. You need to get up, need to, have to, you can’t just keep lying like this out in the open, they’ll find you. Another surge of adrenaline gives you the energy you need, you rise to your feet and start running again. You are ignoring the pain in your feet and in other areas of your body which is over-exhausting. You’re Focusing on what is dead ahead of you, a building that looks abandoned. You can focus on much of anything else except the idea of escaping, the idea you can hide and rest a moment. Though, you have to wonder what you are going to do. You can’t run forever and you doubt hiding will do you much good either. No, not when facing off with two pro heroes who are much more experienced than you. Two pro heroes and friends you never had thought until now would have done something like this in the first place and no one else will believe such a claim either. No one will convict two heroes that have done nothing but good. 

These thoughts alone left you feeling alone, so very alone. Who do you turn to in a time like this one? Who will even believe you? You, a simple book store clerk and hobbyist selling random things for fun? You are what most would call a nobody, just another face in the crowd, which is why you have to wonder what wound you up getting mixed up with these two in the first place. However, this is no time to think about that. There is no time to be drudging back into the past when what you need to focus on is finding a solution to your problem. A solution that doesn’t come easy or seemingly at all. The alarm of this chase slowly starts to dull into confusion as to why you haven’t been hearing anything from the two who should be hunting you down right now. You haven’t even seen a glimpse of either of the two males you figure are after you currently. Everything quiet and dark, not a sound, not a peep, nothing. You pause your running once reaching the abandoned building and making your way inside. You pant and groan, your lungs and everything else feeling like they are on fire. You place your hands on your knees and take in a deep gasp of breath before coughing loudly. You are choking and gasping after all that running, that dizzy feeling coming back to you. You stumble to the wall and lean against it, you in this tiring state slide down not caring about the filth on it or the ground under you, and there is trash along with other more grimy looking things all around, nonetheless at the moment, you choose to ignore it. Your body too worn and your mind still scattering about too much to really mind it all. All you need is to breathe, that is all you can think, you need a moment. Maybe if lucky, they aren’t chasing you after all. You can only hope that is the case yet you can’t be too certain so you know you can’t linger for too long.

“Fuck...fuck...it stings damn it…why…?!”

You curse under your breath finally starting to feel the glass in your feet you didn’t bother to remove before. You are fearful to even look at the bottoms of your feet right now, you can only imagine how torn up they must look currently, The blood. Looking off you can see the small trail leading to you.  You let out a small whimper as you raise your hands to look at them. They too sting badly from falling a few times before. Looking them over it seems they have been torn up pretty badly. A few rocks rest under the skin now, you poke at the bloody and bruising flesh trying to scoot a rock from under the flesh to get it out only to hiss from how it feels to do so and once more curse.

“Damn it…stings...”

You say in a whimper as you move to curl up into yourself, more tears start to cascade down your cheeks, that tight feeling in your chest returning.

“(BF/n), oh god...what am I...?!”

You curl up and start sobbing the images of your beloved’s corpse chard and beaten to a pulp on the floor creeping into your brain, it once more causes you to feel sick. It makes you want to vomit. The smell, the sight, the screaming before all that, those are things you know you’ll never forget. All of them tear you up inside, this is all your fault after all if it weren’t for taking on that project for the two pro heroes you wouldn’t have been winding up here, would you?

It had been a simple day, one like any other, the sky was bright and sunny dotted with a few clouds which you had remembered you stared up at that day. It was very nice unlike tonight, cold and unbearable regardless you remember you woke up beside your lover then. Your boyfriend had given you a good morning kiss like always ever since you had moved in together. Honestly, you hadn’t been in that house together all that long, only a couple of months but those moments spent together had been a dream. A dream you hadn’t wanted to wake up from. You would both get up and get ready to go to work. That morning you showered together, you both got a bit frisky that morning. You and your boyfriend would make out tongues danced together while your arms would be wrapped around each other. You could feel how well your bodies fit together. 

Hard to believe that is all over now, that lovely little dream with your boyfriend dead, as dead as he is now. You will never feel that perfect fit with him again. Knowing that sends another wave of pain through you and causes another sob to echo out from your chest as you shiver and wish for the warmth of your lover. Right now you feel more cold and alone than ever before.

Continuing that trip down memory lane, you could recall you left the house alone that day. Your boyfriend would take his car to work and you would walk, being that you didn’t live that far away from the book store which you work at. You can’t help but think that years ago you wouldn’t have seen yourself working in such a place and it’s not because you don’t like books more so you have problems dealing with people. It fills you with a lot of anxiety to deal with things most days. Honestly, you feel you might have just wasted away if it wasn’t for your boyfriend who always seemed to have your back when you needed it. What are you going to do now that he is gone? Are you going to spiral out of control? No, somehow you will stay strong for his sake. 

Regardless, continuing on. The day moved forward normally nothing seemed out of place, not even the random email you had gotten when you came home. The email was another commission for a project by another faceless person. You didn’t know that this request would wind you up in deep trouble later, in that deep trouble now. The commission seemed all too normal. The client wanted something special done for an anniversary gift for their boyfriend which seemed very cute to you. Really you sort of like hearing from the clients more than most do. The theme was simple it was to be a Red Riot and Ground Zero themed item or rather mugs. They wanted it to be a bit flashy or at least the art on them to be, it was something you could do, Honestly. Despite not being that into heroes, you were happy to do this for the client. You love making things and even more so making those who enjoy your work happy. So like with any other client you got to work after you sorted through the details, and actually, you were very excited. This was something you could do with your boyfriend, he was much more into the whole hero thing than you were and still are. Funny enough your boyfriend did like those two in particular. They were heroes that he very much enjoyed so that day you learned quite a lot about the pair of heroes in question.

The project went on as normal and with your newfound information, you made the gift extra special. You wanted to be very specific to the client’s taste so you tried to ask questions however they seemed very lax about everything they had said that they trusted your judgment. You didn’t mind this one bit. You had given the client updates and he seemed to like them. Eventually, the day came for the project to be done and you shipped them out. You had been very proud of your work and even your boyfriend was. Actually, Your boyfriend had got all pouty, he wished he could keep them which you had found funny then...what you would give to be able to hear him laugh again, to see that smile, and now that was stolen from you.

For a long while, things seemed alright, there had been no word from the client. However, you had been paid so you assumed they were happy with what they had gotten. It wasn’t until a full two months later that things started to kick off again. The day had started normal enough, you made it to the bookstore on time, and would work as you normally would. That day was quiet, not many customers, and most of the day spent slacked off with your coworker while doing what needed to be done around the store. Though at some point the bell on the door would sound it would call you back to the front of the store. A young man with crimson red spikey hair and eyes was the one who sounded the bell when he walked in. Upon further inspection your eyes would widen you would form a recognition with the redhead in the store, it was the hero Red Riot. You couldn’t help but stand there dumbfounded.

“H-Hello and welcome to Nook Books, how can I help you?”

That had been what you said when you finally had found your words, your voice had come out in a bit of a stutter and you had given him a small nervous laugh. He responded to your more shy behavior with merely a smile and offered up an adorable laugh of his own, which actually eased your own anxiety towards the situation at the time.

“Hey there, yeah I could actually use a bit of help finding a book.”

You would smile at the young hero and gave a small nod, you of course were always happy to help the customer, and there was no exception then either. Not to mention you were face to face with the hero Red Riot and at that time you had been oh too excited to be in his presence for the fact you could tell your boyfriend about the encounter. Maybe if you were lucky you could get an autograph, or maybe at least a picture, though to be honest you also hadn’t wanted to bother him so you so it was just a debate in your mind. you at the time though knew it would make your boyfriend happy if you would get it.

“Ah yes, well I’m happy to help, what book are you looking for?”

You would offer up one of your best smiles and try not to fidget too much however you had already shifted to and fro a bit out of nervousness already.

“Ah well, haha, I kinda don’t know…”

You would blink a moment in confusion but nod a moment before you responded.

“You don’t know? Are you buying for someone else?”

You would question a moment, you thought maybe his mind had been on someone else when he thought of the book he wanted, it might have been a gift if he wasn’t sure what kind of book he was on the look for however just as well he might just not had been sure what type of book he needed for himself, but something told you it wasn’t for him, you had a felt that way anyway.

“Haha, yeah, it isn’t for me, though he’s very special to me, he’s a bit difficult to buy for sometimes. Do you have any books that would be more action-packed and manly?”

You had smiled when you listened to his explanation for who it was for and even giggled when you heard what exactly he was had been in search for. There were many, many books on hand that could cover what he wanted but with so little given and that he said the other was difficult to buy for well it seemed like a slightly daunting task. Even so at that time you were determined to find the perfect book for this special someone that he had talked about. You smiled and worked very hard, you asked specific questions to try and get a better gauge on what type of book to get. If only you had known what you had been dealing with back then you wouldn’t have worked as hard as you did to make him happy. You wouldn’t have been as pleasant to him, but sadly you hadn’t known and you had been as positive and polite as possible. You even asked more than you would have given your normal comfort zone. You had tired yourself out on one customer something you wouldn’t usually do, but you wanted to impress the male. You wanted to make sure someone like him left very happy. You did manage that, you got him the perfect book, after you found that book for him you brought him over to the register to check him out.

“I think that book will make him smile, and if it doesn’t feel free to hold me accountable.”

You would chirp out as you rang up the book, you had a good conversation with the young hero. He’d even told you his name which was interesting to know. Kirishima seemed to talk about Ground Zero. Of course, it was said they were good friends so you supposed that was only natural, and he’d mentioned a few other interesting aspects about himself which had tickled you to learn about. It wasn’t every day you could have said you got to talk to a pro hero.

“Don’t worry, I trust your judgment, I don’t think you’d steer me wrong haha.”

You would nod and laugh as you placed the book in a bag and told him how much the book would be, Kirishima would pay you and you would hand him the bag, of course surprisingly he didn’t rush off after that, he would stick by the counter a moment.

“Before I go, would you like an autograph or something?”

He had given you a big grin and you would blink, you had held back and tried not to ask because you hadn’t wanted to bother him and there he asked you about what you had wanted from him, almost too eager you lept at the opportunity.

“Y-Yes actually I’d love that, my boyfriend is a big fan.”

At the first part of your statement it would seem that Kirishima was very happy to hear what you had to say but as you look back on it now you realize that he had twitched lightly, he had made a small change in his facial expression that said something else when you mentioned your boyfriend, you thought nothing of it back then but now it was very apparent that he was upset to hear you were with someone and that the reason you wanted a picture and autograph was because of him and not because you were a fan.

“Yeah? Alright then, glad I could help you make his day like you made mine.”

After that, you would get to pose with him for a picture and he would sign a piece of notebook paper for you, it was the only thing you had on hand at the moment, but he happily signed it for you. You also hadn’t noticed that he looked for more reasons to make conversation with you but your coworker interrupted and him unlike your boyfriend wasn’t very fond of heroes so he could care less that one was in the store other than the fact it meant that the store might get a good review from someone who mattered.

“(Y/n), I need you to do something for me in the back.”

Your coworker would speak up, you could tell from the tone of his voice he just wanted to hurry things along.

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you. It was nice to meet you, (Y/n). Hopefully, I’ll see you again.”

With that Kirishima had given you a small smile and wave before he made his way to the door.

“Yeah, you too, have a lovely day, I hope the person you were buying for enjoys your gift!!”

You would call back to him before he fully left, you hadn’t thought about how he used your first name, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t then, which would come to be a mistake later, many things would lead to being mistakes you couldn’t have fathomed being so problematic. After that meet with him, you had continued work only to be nagged by your coworker about doing your job in a timely fashion which irked you quite a lot but you hadn’t let it ruin your day. Like you assumed your boyfriend would be over the moon to see the autograph and to see the picture you had been so pleased to see his smile, that night was one to remember, Your boyfriend had been so excited he made love to you. Part of you doesn’t want to remember that part, only because it’s yet another thing that you will never have from him again, and giving the current situation, you find it inappropriate.

Suddenly you hear a loud bang echo out, a growl and cussing from not too far away from where you are in the building. Your heart begins pounding in your chest, it looks like those who were chasing you after you had fled are finally here to collect you. Your breathing picks up and you move scrabbling to your feet. If you stay here they’ll find you for sure, that is all that you are thinking about, you need to escape and now.

“Where the fuck are you (Y/n)!! I know you’re fucking here, can’t hide forever idiot!!”

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter one

Lucie, Cordelia, Thomas and Alastair are spending the summer in a small town at the edge of a forest. Lucie hopes she can finally tell Cordelia how she really feels, while Thomas hopes to get to know Alastair a bit better. Alastair and Cordelia are glad to get some time away from their family and their parents separating. But something is not right in the forest. People are disappearing, and a creature warns Thomas that he is in danger, that a debt to a powerful being has not yet been repaid and they will need to combine all their abilities to stop what’s coming, and save Thomas.

CW: past toxic relationship, past abuse, mentions of alcoholism, PTSD It won't be super gory, but can be creepy

Tag list: @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @nott-the-best

Tagging @julywood because Thomas is one of the main characters

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32505550/chapters/80620474

‘Are you finished packing, Lulu?’

Lucie heard her father’s voice from behind the door of her bedroom, but she didn’t respond immediately. She was working on her story, and needed to finish this chapter so she could email it to Cordelia. She needed to concentrate, and that required blocking out all sounds coming from the outside world. The chapter had taken a bit longer than anticipated and the ghost of one of Cordelia’s dead boyfriends had somehow made its way into the chapter. Fictional Cordelia had had many boyfriends and all had died tragic deaths to make way for the next. She currently didn’t have a boyfriend and Lucie wasn’t planning another one yet. The real Cordelia had only dated her brother James for a while a year ago. Lucie didn’t think she wanted real Cordelia to have a boyfriend either.

The door opened and her father peeked inside. ‘You haven’t started packing at all, have you?’

‘I need to finish my chapter for Cordelia,’ Lucie insisted. ‘She will be stuck in a very long car ride with only Alastair for company and she needs something to occupy herself with.’

Lucie would be staying the summer with her parents in her grandmother’s manor, whereas her grandmother would be traveling to southern Italy with a couple of friends. While Lucie was usually excited about spending her summer there, she had feared it would be lonely considering her brother James wouldn’t be coming this year. He’d graduated school and he and his best friend Matthew were going to travel across the continent by themselves. She’d feared she’d be alone all summer, but then Thomas, her closest friend besides Cordelia, had convinced his parents to travel to the same town this summer, renting a cottage nearby her grandmother’s house.

‘Alright, I’ll pack for you,’ her father said. ‘But if you find your swimsuit or your sparrow plush toy is missing, then I will not be held responsible.’

‘Jack is coming,’ Lucie insisted, referring to her sparrow plush toy she’d once named after Jack Sparrow, and she put her laptop away to put her plush toy in her bag.

After a short moment of contemplation she put her new pink bikini and an older black and red striped one piece in there too. There was a lake close to grandmother’s manor and Lucie expected she’d go swimming regularly. She returned to her laptop, and tried to think of a good ending for the chapter. She didn’t like to end everything in a cliffhanger, but the story needed to remain intriguing.

‘No clothes? Underwear?’ her father asked.

Lucie considered just bringing everything suitable for the summer but realized they didn’t have that much space in the car. So instead she opened her closet, picked out some tops, skirts, dresses and jumpsuits and put them into her bag. She would probably regret leaving something behind later on but there was no time. Just to be sure, she went over the closet again and added a couple more dresses. She couldn’t leave her new yellow wrap dress behind, she’d sent Cordelia a picture of her wearing it a couple of weeks ago after she’d bought it and Cordelia had commented that she looked gorgeous. Lucie suspected it was just Cordelia being nice but the comment had still made her heart run wild.

She added enough underwear to last her several weeks and then went back to adding clothes at random until the bags were full.

‘Done,’ she announced, and she went back to her laptop, finishing her chapter.

Adding in a ghost was a difficult choice, but Lucie had decided fictional ghosts behaved similarly to real ghosts. Lucie had never seen a ghost of a dead boyfriend though. She hadn’t seen Jesse Blackthorn even once since he’d died four years ago.

When the chapter was finished, she emailed it to Cordelia, hoping she would receive it before she and her brother left home. Cordelia had almost not been allowed to come stay with her family this summer, her father tended to be strict and wanted to keep Cordelia at home. There had been some trouble lately at the Carstairs home though, and Cordelia’s mother had decided it would be good for her to go spend time with Lucie. Cordelia’s brother Alastair had decided to come with her, although Lucie wasn’t sure why. Either way, Lucie had decided she and Cordelia were going to have the greatest summer ever.

 ***

Thomas hadn’t been this excited about going on a vacation with his parents in a while. The small town where they’d be staying sounded boring, and certainly wasn’t the location most boys his age wanted to spend the summer, but then Thomas wasn’t interested in drinking and partying all night and would much rather explore forests and go swimming in lakes with Lucie Herondale. That wasn’t the main reason he was excited though. A week ago, Lucie had confirmed her close friend Cordelia Carstairs would be staying the summer with her, and a couple of days later Lucie had informed him Cordelia’s brother Alastair would be coming as well.

Thomas had gone to school with Alastair for a year, Alastair a year ahead of him, and at the time Alastair had been rather awful, especially to Thomas’ friends James and Matthew. To be fair, Alastair’s jokes about Matthew behaving like his mother were funny. Matthew did behave like his mother, always coming to collect him when he’d spent too much time around Alastair. Why he’d fallen in love with Alastair anyway, he wasn’t sure. He’d been intrigued by the mystery, he guessed, Alastair’s sad eyes and vicious tongue.

But after that year, Alastair had changed schools, and had gone to school with Lucie and Cordelia instead and he’d heard much from Lucie about him. Alastair had defended Lucie from bullies had kept to himself and created this image of someone who was untouchable, no longer a bully, but he would destroy you if you even considered hurting his sister or her friend Lucie. Thomas was once more intrigued. While James and Matthew were still angry, Thomas had decided he must have changed and he was thankful Alastair had protected Lucie, heaven knew that girl knew how to get herself into trouble.

Thomas checked his phone for the millionth time. He was done packing, but his parents were not. Lucie hadn’t send any new texts and Thomas suspected she needed to pack or finish the latest chapter of her novel before her parents left. She’d listed some ideas that might help him spend more time alone with Alastair, although Thomas was not yet sure if he wanted that. He wasn’t out to anyone but Lucie yet, and although he intended to tell his parents, he wasn’t yet sure how. He wasn’t yet sure he was ready for a relationship, and although he liked Alastair, he was also a bit intimidated by him.

Barbara had sent a message, and Thomas opened it. It was a picture of her and Oliver in front of the Eiffel Tower. Barbara and her boyfriend Oliver had gone to Paris to celebrate their two year anniversary and to celebrate Barbara graduating as a nurse.

Thomas texted a response and put his phone in his bag and walked outside, checking to see if his parents needed any help. A couple of gnomes were running around the garden. Thomas didn’t mind them, they took good care of the garden, and were far from dangerous, but they could get up to mischief. He’d learned that whenever cookies, forks or socks went missing, it was usually the garden gnomes. They lived in forests sometimes, but also liked to build their homes in human gardens. Of course, most humans had no idea they were there, but Thomas could see all sorts of strange creatures. Most were harmless, so Thomas never minded much. He didn’t seek out the supernatural, but he didn’t mind its presence.

Both his mother and Barbara had the same gift, and although Eugenia didn’t she had learnt to see the gnomes. Thomas had found out everyone could learn to see the supernatural if they knew what to look for and knew it was out there. Most people didn’t believe so they didn’t see, but Eugenia had grown up with a mother and siblings who saw everything whether they wanted to or not. She had always known what was out there.

Eugenia and her friend Kamala would be spending the summer in India this year, they’d saved up for months for their big trip. Thomas suspected they might be more than just friends but so far Eugenia had not confirmed this.

‘We’re almost done,’ his mother promised, handing him a plate of cookies. ‘Give some to the gnomes, will you? To show them our thanks for taking care of the garden.’

Thomas went into the backyard where even more gnomes had gathered. It was difficult to imagine most people could look at this scene and see nothing out of the ordinary, when several gnomes were running around, holding something shiny in their hands.

‘The car keys,’ Thomas groaned out loud and he put the plate of cookies on the ground.

‘You can have these, but please give me the keys back,’ he said.

The gnomes said something, but Thomas didn’t understand their language, and then attacked the plate of cookies, dropping the car keys in the process. Thomas picked them up before the gnomes realized anything, and picked up the plate as soon as it was empty. Gnomes could be monsters when it came to cookies and they didn’t have table manners, they just attacked any food they saw. Thomas couldn’t blame them.

Thomas quickly washed the plate and put it back with the others before joining his parents again, who were finally finished with everything.

‘Feeding the gnomes again, Sophie?’ his father asked. ‘Are you sure that many cookies are healthy for them?’

His mother shrugged. ‘They’re gnomes, Gideon. Who knows what’s healthy for them?’

His father couldn’t argue with that logic. Thomas wondered if there would be gnomes too at the cottage where they would be staying, or if other creatures would show themselves. Thomas had learned that if there was a myth or any kind of story depicting it, it probably existed somewhere, but most such beings were very rare and so far Thomas had mostly encountered gnomes.

Checking the car one last time to see if they had everything, Thomas got into the passenger seat next to his mother who would be driving, his father behind. Thomas had gotten too tall to fit in the backseat of this car and sitting there for a long drive would be unnecessarily painful. Besides, Thomas was better at reading maps than his father, and if they got lost they would depend on him to find the way.

As they drove, Thomas couldn’t help but think of Alastair Carstairs. Why had he decided to join the Herondales? Thomas didn’t think he was particularly close to Lucie, although he knew Will Herondale had a weak spot for anything that carried the name Carstairs. He wasn’t surprised the Herondales had invited him along. Could he be thinking of Thomas? And would Lucie’s plans to get them to spend time together help, or only make everything worse?

 ***

‘I cannot get this bag to close,’ Cordelia complained.

‘Perhaps that’s because there’s a limit to how much fits in there,’ Alastair said without looking up.

He was finished packing, of course. Cordelia, on the other hand, had decided she had not yet enough clothes packed and with some suggestions from her mother and aunt Risa had tried to add more.

‘Don’t you have another bag for me?’ Cordelia asked, annoyed.

She loved Alastair, but sharing a room with him was a bit too much and they’d gotten on each other’s nerves. They were currently staying with their aunt Risa, their mother too, but Risa’s apartment was a bit small for all of them. It was a temporary situation and Cordelia hoped that after the summer she and Alastair didn’t have to share a room anymore. At least in the Herondale manor, there were plenty of rooms and Cordelia intended to get one as far away from her brother as possible. Alastair tended to be neat, and his half of the room was always perfectly in order, whereas Cordelia was a bit messier, and both were irritated with the other.

‘You can check if any of my bags have some space left. Or you can leave the bag opened and put it in the car like this and hope it doesn’t end with clothes littered everywhere.’

Cordelia went to the building’s parking garage and to the car and put the bag there, half open, making sure nothing fell out. No one but the two of them would be fitting in there with how much Alastair had packed. Cordelia couldn’t imagine he’d need all that, but she knew better than to attempt to convince her brother he could leave something behind.

Back inside, she saw Alastair sitting on his bed, vaguely staring into the distance as if he was daydreaming.

‘Alastair, stop doing that,’ Cordelia said.

Calling his name usually brought him out even when his senses were closed off from the world around him. Alastair had an ability that Cordelia best described as him being Harry Potter’s pensieve. He could revisit his own memories, and if they allowed it, other people’s memories as well, as well as bring people with him into memories. Alastair tended to stay out of other people’s memories, but could get lost in his own. Outside their family, no one knew about it and Alastair preferred to keep it that way.  

The Carstairs family had always been aware of the supernatural, of course. Once their father Elias had carried the magic sword cortana and fought evil creatures with it. That had been a long time ago though, and Cordelia owned cortana now, but she had never used it to fight anything beyond straw men in the backyard. She didn’t have any abilities though, not beyond her connection the sword, nothing like Alastair’s odd memory. Neither of them understood why he was that way.

‘Were you revisiting your break up again?’ Cordelia asked then.

She knew he’d been revisiting that memory over and over lately, although she didn’t understand why. It couldn’t possibly make him feel better, could it? Of course, Alastair wasn’t exactly known for making the healthiest choices when it came to coping.

‘Charles has been texting me,’ Alastair said, his face blank. ‘I made sure that when I broke up with him, I was very clear about not wanting him to contact me. I wanted to see if there was anything I said that might have made my meaning unclear, any invitation for him to keep texting me.’

‘I don’t think Charles has ever listened to a thing you said,’ Cordelia said. ‘That’s his problem, not yours. Have you blocked his number yet?’

Alastair didn’t say anything.

‘You can block him,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘And you should. It’s creepy how he keeps texting you.’

As far as Cordelia was concerned, Charles had been creepy long before that, ever since he began a relationship with her brother despite Alastair only being sixteen at the time when Charles was six years older than him. Charles must have known how wrong and creepy that was, even if Alastair hadn’t.

Alastair hadn’t told anyone about his relationship, not ready to come out yet, which must have been convenient to Charles. Cordelia had only found out four months ago when she’d started to worry about Alastair, how he’d seemed more nervous and prickly than usual, how he’d lost weight from not eating. Reluctantly, Alastair had told her about his relationship, and Cordelia had been horrified to learn just how much abuse he’d accepted, believing that was how relationships worked. After a month of Cordelia trying to convince him of how toxic Charles was, Alastair had broken up with him. She’d been very protective of him ever since finding out, and was glad he’d decided to come stay with the Herondales with her this summer. Some time away from everything would be good for him, right?

Then Cordelia had found out Alastair had been keeping even more secrets from her, this one surrounding their father. Cordelia had always loved her father and looked up to him, a former warrior who’d slain the supernatural horror that had taken his brother and sister in law, a former hero who’d fallen ill in later life. A while ago their cousin Jem, who was a psychiatrist, had visited, despite their father trying to keep him away from their family, and he’d noticed Alastair was not doing well after an anger outburst. Cordelia and her mother had always assumed Alastair’s moodiness and anger outbursts were just him being a difficult teenager, although at eighteen he was getting a bit old for that. Jem, familiar with mental disorders, had recognized symptoms of something more.

He had recommended Alastair see a therapist. After some pressure from both her and Jem, Alastair had gone and he’d been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. Cordelia had found out father was not sick, but addicted to alcohol instead. Alastair had spent years protecting her from the effects, attempting to take care of father while he was drunk so she have the illusion of a normal childhood. Now that she knew, she guessed she understood a bit better why Alastair had thought what Charles had offered was love.

‘I guess I can block him,’ Alastair said.

‘I’m serious,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘You have to stop revisiting bad memories, you’ll only get hurt again. I don’t like seeing you hurt.’

Alastair took his phone out his pocket, presumably blocked Charles’ number, and put it back.

‘Are you ready to go, Layla?’ he asked.

When Cordelia was young, she’d loved the story of Layla and Majnun her mother used to tell her, and Alastair and her mother had taken to calling her Layla.

‘Ready when you are,’ Cordelia said. ‘Lucie just emailed me the latest chapter of the beautiful Cordelia. I’ll have plenty to do on the way.’

[pedros-mustache-main]

like the movies

summary: he’s the writer; you’re the muse. there’s a cup of coffee somewhere in there, too.

word count: 3.3k+

warnings: fluff & pining—so, a change of pace from my usual angst. :) also: a serious lack of dialogue because i am feeling verbose. 

a/n: this is entirely @joemazzmatazz‘s fault. it was her idea (albeit given to me actual ages ago), but she said “do it” and who am i to say no? anywho, i’m relatively uncertain about how this turned out, but have it regardless!

your latte is hot, almost too hot. it burns your tongue on the first sip.

but you welcome the heat and the momentary burst of pain. the weather swirling outside borders on atrocious: freezing rain mixed with snow flurries, bloated, gray clouds, and a thin layer of ice on all surfaces. though the tip of your tongue stings upon that first sip, the heat that rushes to your chest pushes away the dreary weather you’d slogged through to get to the coffee shop.

you’re a regular here. not a regular regular, but regular enough that the interchangeable baristas recognize you and you recognize them. you exchange tight-lipped smiles and nods of greeting when you approach the counter, but nothing more than simple pleasantries. you don’t know their names, and they never ask for yours, but they remember your order: frosted blueberry latte with extra foam. it’s gotten to the point where you can simply walk up to the counter, money in hand, and the barista can repeat your order before you open your mouth.

it’s the little things, you suppose. in this little corner of the world, you feel seen.

today, you have your laptop open, latte pushed to the side, and a cherry and almond scone on a bright blue plate. you resist the urge to pull your foot up on the chair and rest your chin on your knee. though you’re here more often than you’re at home, this isn’t your living room. you settle for sliding your ankle beneath your opposite thigh.

being a paralegal is decidedly unglamorous. sure, it sounds highfalutin to the person sitting beside you on the airplane, but damn, if it isn’t stressful. you feel like a glorified secretary most of the time. pushing papers and getting signatures and making tens of phone calls to people and places that are not interested in speaking to a lawyer isn’t really what you signed up for. at least, it’s not what you ultimately want. it pays the bills for now, though; a partnership… that’ll come later.

you’re lucky enough that you can work remotely, hence your sturdy corner of the café. from where you sit, you watch customers enter and exit the shop. each time the door opens and the little bell tinkles above, a blast of cold air rushes into the cramped space. you enjoy watching the reaction of newcomer­—the way they stamp their snow-covered shoes on the wood floor and shiver, turn to their companions with a smile, hurry to the counter to order something sweet and warm. in those moments, you grow wistful, your heart lurching with loneliness. it’s been a long time since you’ve had anyone to meet for an afternoon coffee date, friend or otherwise. your job doesn’t afford much downtime, and what downtime you do have is devoted to menial life responsibilities. 

your phone buzzes, and you glance down. a text from your boss. time to refocus.

you work for a while longer, nibbling on your scone, sipping from your latte. the emails pile up, and your phone buzzes incessantly. a headache forms at the base of your skull as you struggle to keep up with the constant flurry of communication.

after receiving a terse email from your boss’s legal partner in relation to something that is no fault of your own, you shut your laptop. a five-minute break; you deserve that much. rubbing a hand down your weary face, you grab your purse, slide out from behind the table, and head for the restroom. in the poorly lit bathroom, you splash some cool water on your cheeks and sigh at your reflection in the mirror. you look tired, feel it too. the dark bags under your eyes bely how little sleep you’ve gotten in the last week, and your shoulders droop under the weight of the world. maybe by christmas…

who are you kidding? christmas is just as busy as any other time of the year. people don’t stop needing lawyers just ‘cause it’s the holidays.

when you return to your makeshift workspace, you immediately frown. you freeze several paces from the corner of the table and glance over your shoulder, tightening your grip on the strap of your purse.

someone had been at the table in the five minutes it took to freshen up.

nothing is gone, thank god. (in retrospect, you probably shouldn’t have left your laptop and phone sitting in plain sight. call it naivety, but you like to think the best of people. however, your line of work consistently reminds you that the bad in people often outweighs the good.) your laptop, though, has been nudged to the side, the movement causing the charging cord to fall out. several drops of dark liquid—spilled latte—dampen the corner of your yellow legal pad.

what truly catches you eye is the square piece of paper resting on your laptop’s keyboard like a discarded feather.

you look over your shoulder again, but the shop is largely empty save for the baristas and an older couple in the far corner. the weather is certainly a deterrent from lingering. perhaps someone had come in while you were in the bathroom and left you a note. had your car been hit? you hope not. you don’t have the extra funds for vehicular maintenance right now and even less time to fix whatever damage had been done.

leaning forward, you lift the piece of paper, and your chest tightens.

it’s a drawing—a drawing of you. blue ink scattered across the page in swirling lines forms the hazy outline of your profile. your chin rests in your hand, and the artist made certain note to emphasize your eyelashes, which are not that long in actuality. at the bottom of the page, a message in curling script: when you are old ­— yeats

your mouth runs dry, your palms moist with nerves. returning to your chair, you quickly type the words into the search bar of your browser. you remember enough from high-school english to know yeats is a poet, but when the poem loads and you read the words, you feel like you might fall over.

your neck snaps up, cracks at the sudden movement. someone had been here in the café long enough to watch you, to sketch you, and to think of the yeats poem in relation to you.

how decidedly… romantic. like something out of a chick-flick.

despite the warmth in your chest, you shut your laptop, fold the sketch, and shove it in your coat pocket, willing yourself to forget the random happenstance. things like that—serendipitous moments of romance—only happen in the movies. they certainly don’t happen to you.

whomever had left the note, well—at least they’d brightened your day. your mother would call it a gift from the heavens, an angel smiling down on you.

shaking your head, you gather your things and hurry out into the cold, wintery weather. you refuse to allow yourself to go home and daydream. you could use the note as a bookmark, sure, but there was no use in dreaming about the artist. no use whatsoever when you would likely never cross paths again.

except you do go home and daydream. why you ever thought you could keep yourself from mulling over a moment rife with potential is ridiculous.

all throughout the evening—as you make your stir-fry dinner, as you draw your bath, as you change the sheets on your bed, and fold the laundry—you consider the possibilities:

you’d been at the café for a handful of hours, but how much had you truly paid attention to the patrons coming and going? barely, if you’re honest with yourself. you had noticed the older couple when they came in; you’d wondered how they’d managed to get from the parking lot to the warmth of the coffee shop without slipping on the icy sidewalks. you’d noticed, too, a man who looked a lot like how you imagine paul bunyan: massive height, plaid shirt stuffed in worn jeans, impressive beard. no one else of note sticks out in your mind hours later.

what had you been doing all afternoon? hopefully you hadn’t done anything embarrassing. god, sometimes you have this habit of resting your fingers over your mouth in such a way that it pushes up your nose to resemble a pig’s snout. had you done that? sometimes you fiddle with your hair too much and bounce your knees and hum to yourself. you want to sink below the suds of your bathwater when you recall your propensity for talking to yourself.

your thoughts turn fanciful when you finally slip beneath your covers.

maybe the artist is like tom hanks in “you’ve got mail.” only instead of emails, you could exchange notes in a coffee shop and forgo the business rivalry part.

maybe the artist is like tom hanks in “sleepless in seattle”: soft and sweet and really good with kids.

maybe you just have a thing for tom hanks.

you turn your head with a girlish grin, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t daydream, but how could you not? yeats’s poem filters through your mind like the moon filtering through your curtains: how many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true, but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you and loved the sorrows of your changing face.

with a muffled squeal, you allow yourself a moment to thrash in delight—like a schoolgirl with a crush and a note checked yes i like you tucked beneath her pillow. the idea that someone somewhere notices you, of all people, is simply too much to bear. you feel like your heart will explode and sunbeams will burst from beneath your skin. you feel warm and happy and drunk on possibility.

you settle, then, and sigh, smoothing your hands over the rumpled comforter. you’re a professional, though. a paralegal, for god’s sake. you’ll go back to the café. maybe not tomorrow, but you’ll go back. just maybe—maybe, maybe, maybe—you’ll run into your artist again.

you return to the coffee shop in two days, lugging your over-stuffed bag with you, earbuds snug in your ears. when you cross the threshold, you can’t help the way your eyes immediately scan the customers who have parked themselves in the various sitting areas. you’re looking for your artist, obviously, but you have nothing to go on other than the note tucked away in your jewelry box at home. a few words, a carefully drawn profile—that’s not enough to determine who had created the note from a simple glance.

begrudgingly, you remind yourself once again that life isn’t a movie. there’s no tom hanks waiting for you on the other end of the note. it’s silly to dwell on it any longer, really. you’ll get too wrapped up, too attached, and that wouldn’t bode well for the upcoming holidays.

the table you usually occupy is already taken by a man in a red sweater. his head is bent over his laptop, glasses slipping down his strong nose. you try not to take it to heart; the table was never explicitly yours. with a soft grunt of effort, you drop your belongings in an orange armchair across the room before meandering to the counter. julie (at least, you think that’s her name?) smiles when you approach, and she rings up your order, asking about the weather and plans for the holidays.

once your coffee is in hand, you return to your new seat and relax in the accommodating plush armchair. maybe the man in the red sweater had done you a favor after all. you glance up to look at him. if he stays as long as you often do, his ass will ache by the time he leaves. the wood chairs offer zilch in the way of comfort.

you quickly lose yourself in work, but the idea that your artist could be in the same room as you never truly leaves your mind. you find yourself glancing about the room from time to time, studying those who come and go, wondering if perhaps they were the one who saw something worthwhile in you. no one catches you eye; everyone is too busy with their own affairs, and you don’t blame them.

by the end of the afternoon, you find your latte completely and utterly forgotten. it’s cold when you take a tentative sip, and you sigh. maybe not five dollars wasted, but five dollars you had meant for a hot drink, especially considering the cold weather. rising from your seat, you take the latte to the counter and ask the barista to pour your drink in a to-go cup with some ice. might as well make the best of it, and you don’t like things to go to waste.

when you return to your chair, you nearly drop the plastic cup.

another note.

“holy shit,” you breathe. instinctively, your palm tightens around your cup, and the plastic gives a small crack. you wince and double-check to make sure no leaks have sprung before picking up the folded piece of paper on your messenger bag.

your fingers tremble as you flip open the folded note.

the same blue ink, same hurried penmanship. no drawing this time; only words.

she sat, much as i did, working fervently. i couldn’t help but watch, and maybe that made me a creep, but i’d been called worse. she sat with an heir of regality, her chin held firm, eyes dancing about the room like she owned the place. not haughty or self-possessed. just sure of herself. what did that make me then? alone in my corner? i didn’t like to dwell too long, so i—

the words stop in time with the seize of your heart.

you can’t seem to look away, to look around the room again in search of your artist, your writer. your heart pounds in your chest, flush rising on your cheeks. eyes—you feel eyes on you whether they are present or not. you feel dizzy. never have you felt so… seen, so noticed. not even in past relationships have your boyfriends took such care to notice the minute details of your being.

the strange urge to vomit rises in your throat. you aren’t afraid; you aren’t creeped out.

you’re just… overwhelmed.

so, you tuck the note in your pocket and leave, careful to keep your gaze on the floor as you exit. just in case your writer is still there, still watching.

you’re nothing special, nothing like the paragraph they penned. they should get that through their thick skull before they find themselves disappointed.

you don’t return to the coffee shop until after the holidays.

it’s not that hard to stay away. the hustle and bustle of work combined with the hustle and bustle of family gatherings keeps you from finding the time for an afternoon of solace anywhere, let alone the café.

you must admit that you think of your author often, try as you might to forget them.

by now, you have the cadence of the yeats poem memorized and the prose of the paragraph tattooed on the front of your mind. each time you pass a couple in a warm embrace, you wonder what became of your writer. you wonder if they think of you as much as you think of them; if they ruminate over the possibility of a life that cannot be.

if this were a movie, you would run into your author by random happenstance. you’d bump into them at the market, spill your legumes on the floor, touch hands in your haste to right the mistake, and—boom—as you look up, it would all fall into place.

if this were a movie, you would see them in the library or the post office or the deli or—

—or the coffee shop.

you sigh as you enter the café, wishing for your author to be there, knowing they won’t be. it is enough that you’ve experienced two mysterious love notes; things like that don’t come in threes.

that’s only in the movies.

the café still has its holiday decorations up. twinkle lights hang draped across the ceiling, and music filters over the sparsely filled tables and chairs. in the post-holiday haze, you didn’t expect the café to be crowded. in all truth, the sight of few patrons eases your mind.

less of a chance to run into your author. less of a chance to reveal yourself as the decidedly uninteresting person you are.

you set your belongings down at a side table, and as you reach for your wallet, a presence hovers over your shoulder. frowning slightly, you straighten, prepared to ask the person to kindly give you some space. when you do turn, your heart leaps to your throat, and the wallet in your hand clatters to the table.

it’s your author. you just know it.

there’s something vaguely familiar about the man, about his strong nose and groomed facial hair and crystal eyes. he’s tall, warm looking, like a hot drink on a cold day or a crackling fire. his eyes scan your face as though he is worried, as though he’s uncertain of what he should do now that you’ve actually faced him.

you speak before your thoughts catch up with your heart. “you wrote those notes, didn’t you?”

he nods, and the movement—so gentle, so reminiscent of a small boy on the verge of a scolding—makes you love him all the more. “yeah.” he sighs, lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck. “yeah, sorry about that. i wanted to apologize. wasn’t sure i’d get the chance, if you’d come back again.”

you shake your head. “no, don’t apologize. please don’t apologize.”

it’s his turn to frown, and he looks up from the table. you lose your breath momentarily. god, his eyes are blue. “when you left last time i thought… well, i thought i’d scared you off.” with a rueful chuckle, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “would serve me right, too.”

“why do you say that?”

“i mean, notes on your laptop when you aren’t looking? intently watching you? kinda stalkerish, huh?”

you can’t help but smile—smile at him, at the nervous twitch of his mouth, at the way he avoids your gaze. “i guess.” on a daring move, you reach out and touch his elbow. when you touch him, he feels like home. “but i don’t want you to apologize. i like the notes. i haven’t thought about anything else since you gave me the first one.”

“really?” there’s a hopeful tone in his voice; it sets your heart on fire.

“yeah.”

“i’m writing a book—a novel, really. i saw you so often that any time i got stuck, i just wrote about you instead.”

you could kiss him then and there. instead, you tell him your name, and he grins.

“i’m gwilym.”

“tell me, gwilym.” you pull out your chair and motion to the café counter. “how would you feel if i bought you a coffee? i want to hear more about that novel.”

“i’d—i’d like that.”

he follows you to the counter, his hand brushing the small of your back.

the barista—matt, you think—looks up from the register and laughs. “holy shit, i won!” he looks over his shoulder. “hey, julie! you owe me a fifty.”

you glance at gwilym, but he’s already looking at you. you smile.

matt continues. “we had a pool to see how long it would take for you two to get together. you were always looking at each other but never at the same time. you knew that, right?” still laughing, he rings up your orders without be asked. “coffee is on us today, guys.”

as you wait for your latte to be steamed and gwilym’s chia to be poured, you tuck your lip between your teeth to stem your widening grin. gwilym is strong by your side, the perfect height for you to rest your head on his shoulder. you look up at him, at the noble planes of his face, and your chest squeezes. when he looks at you again, your chest squeezes even tighter.

maybe life is like a movie after all.

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Previous chapters: 1  2

Chapter 3

Warnings: nothing, kinda sad, mentios of sexual themes kidna.

A/u:Hey guys i’m kinda back, sorry i left this series alone i just didn’t have much inspiration to wirte for this, and i dind’t want to write something shitty just for the sake of writing, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this new chapter! thanks for following me and the series and i appreciate you caring for my writing. sorry for mistakes, and thanks again!

It’s been a month already since she arrived at Mystic, and it’s been one week since she last saw Dick. The first week went by quickly; Y/n had been so caught up with taking care of the cabin that she didn’t realize how much she had been inside the house. The weather was getting increasingly colder as the days passed, and the colder it got the feeling of loneliness started to creep inside of her. The first few weeks went somehow okay; the nostalgic feeling of being inside the house that held so many memories from her father was ever present in every waking hour, but the more time she kept herself preoccupied, the better she got at handling it. It was the nights that always got to her. 

Y/n was someone who enjoys being alone; she liked to be able to enjoy quiet nights, with a glass of wine and a good movie. She enjoyed being alone, what she didn’t enjoy was the feeling of loneliness. It’s been a few months since she broke up with her former boyfriend, and she was fine with being alone once again, but on quiet nights she missed the warmth of being in someone else’s embrace. And much to her chagrin, her mind took her to the only man that made her feel a resemblance of warmth, since she arrived at Connecticut. 

Dick.

It was strange of her to feel something so soon for something she didn’t really know. Dick was a mystery, that much she knew. It was an understatement to say he was an attractive guy, everyone with eyes could see that, but his eyes held something that drew her in. It was ironic how much of a lifetime movie her life had become since she came to town. Meeting a mysterious man; the random encounters they had around town, but as much as a cliche that was, she liked it. She chuckled, thinking about the few times they’d run into each other during her first month. More often than not, they found themselves standing in the cereal aisle fighting. It was a routine at this point for them. One that both waited to happen sooner than later.

That’s why she realised she hadn’t seen Dick since last week. She went grocery shopping on Tuesday and he wasn’t there,nor any other store for that matter. She hasn’t realized how comfortable she has become with him until he wasn’t there. She wondered, if something happened to him, if he was okay. She didn’t want to stay inside and wallow into her own self pity - she also didn’t want to stay in and think about dick because that might lead to some unholy activities - so she got dressed in some warm clothes, turned on her car and made her way towards the nearest bar. 

The Hood.

The Hood had seen some of the best and the worst nights of Y/n. She was not proud to say that the first time she got drunk, it was there and let’s say it did not end pretty. The moment she set a foot inside the bar, all the memories smack her in the face, some making her cringe at some, and smile fondly. The owner, Slade, a war veteran who had lost an eye in battle was the friendliest bartender you could ever meet. He was quick to shut down any creep that got too handsy with people around the bar, and he was one of the most respected men around town. For y/n, was like an uncle. He and her father were fishing buddies back in the day, and so grew around the man, and knew how much of a softie he was underneath that eye patch. 

“Uncle Slade!” She cheered once he spotted him across the counter. The man’s ears perked up at the familiar voice and when his eyes -eye- found the source a smile made its way into his face. 

“Y/n? Is that you!? My, my you’ve grown kiddo” he said moving around the counter to engulf his niece in a warm hug. 

“Oh, i’ve missed you!” she said, separating herself from the man. “I see you’re doing pretty well” the girl gestured at the almost filled bar. 

“It’s okay,” he said, looking fondly at the girl whom he considered a daughter. “How have you been?” He asked delicately. The girl sighed knowing where the conversation was going; after all they were almost brothers.

“I’m okay, been back here after so many years, it’s been… rough, but I like it. I always did love this town.”

“Wel, I’m glad you’re back. Adelaine is going to be happy to see you again” he said. Adelaine was one of the sweetest woman in town. Being married to someone like Slade wasn’t easy Y/n used to think -still does- but adelaine made it work. They had a son, Jericho, who loved to hang out with Y/n when they were younger.

“Is she here?” She asked excitedly. 

“Not today, she usually helps me on Fridays and Saturdays. But we definitely need to have you over the house one of these now that you’re staying in town” Slade said with a smile.

“I’d love to! I miss you guys a lot.”

“Well, I assume you didn’t come here just to chat, so what can I get you kid?“ 

“House special” she replied with a smirk.

Slade laughed before replying: “one Red Hood coming.”

Red Hood was the drink that gave the bar the name after all –minus the red of course–. It basically consisted of a Jolly rancher which was green apple vodka, some peach schnapps and cranberry juice, with a little orange slice rearranged to make it look like it was covering the top of the glass, you know like a hood. It was Y/n’s favourite drink. 

She sat on a table not too far from the counter and grabbed her phone. She had a few emails regarding work, that she was not going to open today, and a few texts from her sister. She opened the conversation, just when Slade placed the drink on the table. She thanked him, and took a sip from the glass, tasting the fruity drink and snapped a selfie to send to her sister with the caption ‘getting drunk tonight on red hoods. Xo.‘ 

She sighed after drinking some more, remembering all those days she used to come to the same place every other weekend, to drown her sorrows in alcohol and greasy food. It seemed that not much has changed.

“I didn’t peg you for the drinking type” a gruff voice said. Standing in front of her was none other than the man that had plagued her thoughts the past few days. Dick Grayson.

“Fancy seeing you here Dick” she said in a mocking tone. She hid her smile behind the glass checking him out, not too subtlety. That didn’t go unnoticed by Dick. He smirked as he took a seat on the table making the girl raise a brow.

“Don’t remember inviting you to sit down here"  

"I don’t see you objecting about it either” he replied.

“Touche.”

“So, what brings you here Grayson?” She tried to sound nonchalant but her voice was laced with worry? Dick shook those thoughts away, and cleared his throat.

“The alcohol” he replied, making her chuckle.

“Cheers” she lifted her glass in the air, nodding her head at the same time.

They stayed silent for a while. Enjoying each other’s company. The silence was surprisingly not awkward at all. This gave y/n time to really look at him. He looked tired, but handsome as usual. There were bags under his eyes, and his hair was a little too long. Y/n that he looked incredibly hot. The shirt under the leather jacket had two buttons opened, leaving his chest a litte exposed, and maybe it’s been too long since the last time she had sex, or maybe Dick was natural just hot, but that little window that show his tanned skin made her feel all sort of things. His Adam apple bobbed up and down whenever he took a sip, and god she needed to get laid now or go home and take care of it on her own. 

Before her imagination got truly wild, Dick spoke:

“Why are you here?" 

The question took her by surprise, not quite understanding why did he ask that.

"What do you mean?” She said, confusion all over her face.

“I mean, why are you here. In Mystic. Is not really people’s first choice for moving in” he said taking a sip from his beer.

“I came here to my dad’s cabin. It’s been a while since I came and I needed to see the state of the house before deciding what to do with it” she replied avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not what I asked." 

"That’s exactly what you asked,” she said, looking down at the empty glass in front of her.

“What’s the real reason?” Dick pressed. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk about it with her, but he was intrigued by her. She was the only person in town that made him want to leave the house so he could casually run into her. Not that he would say that to her,of course.

Y/n sighed, knowing that sooner or later she was going to be confronted by someone about her real reasons, but maybe speaking with someone who doesn’t really know her would save her from the judgment.

“I did come here because of the cabin,but I also needed time to think I guess. To breathe” she began “I broke up with my boyfriend a couple months ago, and I guess I needed a break from it all,you know? Is not that I’m doing this because of him, but also my mother kept on pressuring me about getting older and finding a husband, and getting married and I just don’t think I want that. Not now at least. And I just couldn’t handle it anymore, and this was a good chance, maybe to start over, to chance, but now I just… don’t know” she said sighing not looking at Dick.

“I came here five years ago, for the exact same reasons as you,” he said,surprising the girl.

“And?" 

"And… nothing changed” he admitted looking down at his now empty beer bottle. “I came here five years ago, wanting to do something about my life and I did nothing. If anything I became more reclusive.”

Y/n knew that even though dick and her were not exactly friends, and did not know each other at all, she thought that maybe he felt the same. Telling the story of your life to a stranger can be comforting in a way; like she said saving yourself from the judgment from your family. She knew that asking dick a question might end in either him answering truthfully or maybe he’d shut himself off even more than before, but since she was kind enough to tell her own story she hoped for Dick to do the same. So she asked:

“Why did you come here?" 

Dick huffed and ran a hand through his long hair. He didn’t like talking about this topic with anyone. Not his family,not his friends, so why was he about to pour his feelings out for some girl he barely knew? He did not know the answer to that yet, but the warm smile on her face, and her kind eyes gave her a weird sensation in his stomach. Maybe he was starved for connection with someone other than his family,maybe he liked her enough to trust her. 

Maybe.

"Before I came here I was supposed to get married with my back then fiancee, Dawn; I was the happiest guy in the world. I had a good family, friends and someone I trusted with my life. But a few days before my birthday I found out she cheated on me with my friend Hank.” He stopped to look at her, waiting for the same look everyone gave him when they heard that story. But her eyes were soft, a sweet, comforting smile was waiting for him, rather than pity. Dick somehow understood the look she was sporting. She understood because she had 

been there herself. Dick sighed loudly, releasing all the tension and stress that he had been carrying for years. Being in her presence was like a breath of fresh air for someone whose head had been surrounded by smoke and each time got harder to breath. 

It wasn’t until she came to the town that Dick allowed himself to breathe the air that the city provided him with.

[verai-marcel]

The Man Next Door (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+, Part 1)

Summary: You are Arthur's next door neighbor in a small apartment building. He's a pretty good neighbor: he’ll pick up your mail while you're gone on business and occasionally brings you some extra food he's roasted. In return, you watch his kid when he has to work late. On one of those late nights, he asks you a question that takes you by surprise.

Author’s Notes: So there’s two versions of this. Side A is high honor Arthur. Side B is low honor Arthur. So the tags might be a bit confusing, I guess. Also I wrote this as a post-college aged reader, but it should work for a range of ages though. I was imagining a reader around Arthur’s age, but you imagine it however you like.

Tags: fluff, modern AU

Side A - High Honor Tags: fluff, romance, oral sex, missionary, smut with feelings

Side B - Low Honor Tags: paid sex, blow jobs, deepthroating, dirty talk, rough sex

WC: 1035

Find it on AO3 here.

Beginnings

It was about 3PM when you got a call from your neighbor.

“Hey Arthur, what’s up? Need me to watch Isaac again?”

You heard his deep sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I’m always askin’ you.”

“Don’t worry about it, you always give me a fair rate, and I like Isaac.”

“Thanks, darlin’.”

“Anytime.”

You ended the call and smiled to yourself. You loved it when his drawl came out and he called you ‘darlin’. It was a little off-putting at first when you had met him a year ago as he was moving into the apartment next door. You had thought he had those cowboy vibes, which you found out later was pretty close to reality; he grew up in the midwest on a farm, until he moved here with his fiancée, Mary, who left him for a hedge fund manager about a year ago. The kid happened by accident with a previous girlfriend, Eliza. They were still friends, but they knew they had different ideas for their lives, so they split their time with Isaac, and Arthur had the kid for one week every month. But while Isaac was around, you noted that Arthur was happier, kinder, and softer than he was during the rest of the month. You could tell that he loved being a dad, and when Isaac was back with his mother, Arthur seemed a bit lonely.

You had learned much more about him over the past year. He was a mechanic, working at a nearby shop, but he often worked late. You didn’t know why his boss wouldn’t have someone else pick up the slack, but Arthur would always mumble something about doing the job right and not making anyone else stay late. You admired that work ethic and that dedication to his company, but you wondered if people were taking advantage of him.

As you two had gotten to know each other, you discovered he shared your penchant for watching horror movies late at night, stuffing your faces full of tater tots when the option was available, and drawing random things that piqued your interest. Short greetings on your shared balcony became deep conversations late into the night, and as the two of you became closer, you realized a couple weeks ago that you had fallen for your cowboy neighbor.

Of course, you didn’t think anything would come of your crush. Dating a neighbor was bad, because if things went south, you still lived next to him; you would still see him almost everyday. And he hadn’t shown any specific affection towards you.

But the occasional brush of his hand against your arm, or when he lightly touched the small of your back as he let you go up the stairs first, always made your heart beat a little faster.

You saved your files and packed up your laptop; you were lucky enough to work from home on Thursdays and Fridays, given that you could do your job from anywhere, once you had your directions. Your boss would call you occasionally, but for the most part, you were free to just reply to emails and respond to helpdesk tickets at your leisure, as long as you logged in your 8 hours of work.

Carrying your laptop bag, you left your apartment and went to Arthur’s, opening it up with the spare key he had given you. It was a relatively clean but sparse space; Isaac’s toys in one corner with his little play table and chair being the only brightly colorful things anywhere. Arthur’s furniture was worn and had chips in the wood here and there, but the overall aesthetic reflected a natural, rustic style that you appreciated. No paisley here, just simple blacks, browns, and dark reds in all of his furnishings.

You set yourself down on the couch and pulled out your laptop, just as the door opened. A child’s voice called out your name, and you smiled. Isaac came bursting in and leapt on the couch, giving you a big hug.

“Hi there, big guy! You’re getting quite tall,” you said to him, poking his nose playfully.

“Daddy says I’m gonna be as tall as a giraffe one day!” he said excitedly.

“I’m not sure about a giraffe, but you’ll be close,” you replied with a grin as you patted him on the head. He ran off to put his little backpack down near his table and started playing with his toys.

“I can’t tell ya how much I appreciate this,” Arthur said as he stepped into your view. His eyes glanced down at what you were wearing for a split second before coming to rest on your face. You had on your lounge shorts and a spaghetti strap top, the kind of top that had a built-in bra, but it was thin enough that your nipples were a little visible. It was summer and you hated running the AC in your apartment if you could help it; money was tight, and you were still paying off your college loan, even after all this time. In your haste to help out Arthur, you had forgotten to change. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you milling around on the balcony in shorts and tank top before, watering your plants. But actually being in his apartment with this little clothing on seemed… inappropriate.

Arthur stayed silent for a moment before finally saying, “I’ll be back around 8.”

“So see you at 9, then,” you said in a jesting tone, hoping he’d get over your state of dress.

He smiled at you wryly. “Yeah, probably.” Then he turned to Isaac. “You gonna behave, son?”

“Of course!”

“Good. See you later,” he said to both of you as he went back to work.

You left your laptop on the couch and decided to play with Isaac. It was much more fun than working the last two hours of your day. Besides, you could work after you put Isaac to bed for the night.

***

When 9PM rolled around, you stretched your legs and put your laptop away. After dinner and getting Isaac to sleep around 7PM, you had gotten all your work done, and with it being Friday night, you could relax. You didn’t have any plans for tonight anyway; all your friends were busy with their own work or their significant others. Sighing, you lay back on the couch and pulled out your phone to read.

The door finally opened at 9:30PM.

End Notes: The next two versions are coming very soon!

Part 2A: High Honor | Part 2B: Low Honor

[noona-clock]

First Impression - Part 2

Genre: Museum!AU

Pairing: Youngjae (Got7) x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 

You loved your job. To be honest, you hadn’t expected to, but now you could safely say you really and truly did.

For about three years, you’d been a curator at the art museum. It hadn’t been part of your life plan, though you actually hadn’t even had a life plan to begin with. You were the kind of person to live totally in the present, living life practically day to day and going wherever the wind took you.

You’d only landed this job through a series of lucky - and sometimes slightly odd - happenstances and coincidences. After graduating from college with your Bachelor’s degree in Art, you’d been given the opportunity to intern at a museum back in your hometown. This led you to getting your Master’s in Museum Studies, and a curating job in a city hours away just kind of... landed in your lap. Not really, but things had worked out too well for you to refuse.

So here you were. Three years later, still loving life. Which was quite an accomplishment seeing how resistant (and, dare I say, downright scared) you were regarding anything long-term.

Maybe the reason you loved this job so much was that just about every day was different. You were never bored. Working in a museum was actually a lot more unpredictable than you’d imagined, especially as a curator. Opportunities for new exhibits almost constantly popped up, and you frequently traveled all over to do research and negotiate which artworks would be coming back with you. Plus, the immense pride you felt when an exhibit came together and looked spectacular was something you couldn’t quite explain.

This Renoir exhibit was most definitely the pinnacle of your career so far. You’d traveled to New York, San Francisco, Paris, and London to build this little collection, and if the ticket sales and patron comments were any indications... it was a huge success.

But it was only the second day after opening, so you didn’t want to count your chickens before they hatched.

You were currently out on the gallery floor, observing and wanting to see if maybe the paintings could be arranged better or if the walls were too close together. You wanted all of the visitors to enjoy themselves, but you also didn’t want them touching or even brushing up against any of the pieces.

Things seemed to be going all right, and you had just finished whispering to a security guard to keep an eye on the lady with the huge purse... when someone caught your eye.

You weren’t sure if he’d caught your eye because he’d just been looking at you or if it was simply because he was eye-catching. Either way, you now found yourself studying him.

The way his dark hair hung just so, exposing his forehead. It was shaggy but not messy, and you could so clearly (you weren’t sure why) imagine running your fingers through it. His eyes were curious and sparkling, his lips full and pensive. The way he was focused on the paintings and whatever he was writing made you want to pick his brain. What was he thinking? What was he writing?

And then you noticed he glanced at you. You quickly looked away, glad he wasn’t able to know your heart had started to beat just a little bit faster.

But... why? Why was it beating faster?

You saw people at the museum every single day. What was so special or different about him?

The security guard standing near you shifted his stance, and it was just enough movement to pull you out of your own head. You blinked quickly, your head jerking the tiniest bit. 

Come on, you thought to yourself. No time to be daydreaming.

You were at work, after all, and you had to focus on the exhibit.

Not the really cute guy stealing glances at you.

When you left work that evening, you figured you would completely forget about whoever that guy was by the time you returned the next morning. You would go home, cook some dinner, watch some Netflix, do a face mask, get some sleep... and tomorrow morning, you would sit down at your desk and carry on with work as usual.

So, riddle me this.

It was tomorrow morning. Yesterday was officially behind you, and you were sitting in your comfortable office chair, replying to emails and still thinking about that guy. That dark-haired, wide-eyed, sweet-faced guy. You almost wished there was a plausible way to figure out his name, but you knew that was toeing the line of being a stalker.

Besides. If he enjoyed the exhibit as much as he seemed to, judging by all the notes he’d scribbled down, he would probably be back.

You let out a huff of a sigh, blowing your hair out of your face and attempting to blow thoughts of this mystery guy out of your head. You’d never let any guy distract you from your work before; you would most certainly not be starting today.

He was here again.

That really cute guy.

It was the third time in two weeks, so you really had to wonder if he was here to admire the Renoir exhibit or if he was here to admire… something else.

Or someone else?

Maybe it was because, despite your efforts, you had been thinking about him for the better part of those two weeks which made you hope he was in the same situation.

Because... you’d asked around. You hadn’t tried to look through the system for his name attached to a ticket, but you’d asked a couple security guards and tour guides if they’d noticed him. If he’d come any other times when you weren’t there.

One security guard, a buff, young man who secretly loved gossip, informed you he, too, had noticed the guy. But he’d only seen him here the three times, just like you had.

So. He only came during your shifts, as far as you knew. Interesting.

Whether or not that was a coincidence…

Well, you wanted to find out. You couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay any longer.

Even though talking to the museum patrons was nowhere to be found in your job description, you walked up to him and cleared your throat gently.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?” you asked, smiling politely.

He smiled back at you, though his smile was a lot brighter and more beaming than yours. It kind of made your heart skip a beat if you were being honest.

Damn, he’s got a perfect set of teeth.

“I actually have a lot of questions about the new exhibit,” he told you with a soft, somewhat timid laugh, breaking through your super random thought about his teeth.

“Oh?” you breathed. “Well… I’m the curator, I can tell you anything you need to know.”

“Really?” He looked surprised (and incredibly adorable), so you nodded.

“Really,” you smirked. And then you held your hand out and introduced yourself.

“Youngjae,” he replied as he shook your hand. 

“Shall we?” You held your arm out, gesturing toward the rest of the exhibit.

The two of you began slowly strolling through the gallery, stopping at each piece for however long it took you to answer Youngjae’s questions. He had a lot, which was not surprising, but you easily supplied all the answers.

“You really know which questions to ask,” you pointed out as you stepped away from Dance at Bougival. 

Youngjae smiled bashfully, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Well, I’m an art student.”

“Are you?” Oh, god, if he was an art student, he was much too young for you, damn it--

“I’m getting my Master’s in Art History,” he continued, much to your relief. Like, literally, you almost let out an audible sigh because thank the lord. A graduate student, not an undergraduate student. “I’m actually in my last semester, writing my thesis on Impressionism.”

“Aha,” you chuckled. “That would explain why you’re here.”

He nodded, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks flush a little.

“You know,” you began, stopping in front of Dance in the City. “I have to admit. I’ve… noticed this isn’t your first time here.”

Youngjae blushed a little, his smile growing ever wider and even more bashful. “Yeah, I just – it’s for my thesis, and I wanted to –”

Everything about his expression and his body language (he was currently gently kicking the ground and slightly avoiding eye contact with you and drumming his fingers against his jeans) told you he hadn’t come here just for the art.

So you had to assume he’d felt that same strange, intangible pull you’d felt toward him.

“I’m not a tour guide or anything,” you interrupted. “But I know just about all there is to know about Renoir and a few other Impressionist painters. I would be happy to... maybe sit down and go through your thesis with you? If you’re having trouble with it.”

Youngjae’s head snapped up, his eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead as he looked at you with surprise. “You -- really?”

“Absolutely. I was a grad student once myself, not too long ago. And I’ve just spent the last couple months putting this exhibit together. My brain is in full-on Impressionism mode,” you told him with a chuckle. “I can give you my email?”

Because, to be quite honest, giving your phone number to a museum guest - and one you’d just met - was a little crazy. Right?

...Right?

You were probably overthinking the situation, but whatever.

“Oh -- oh, sure,” Youngjae nodded. He flipped to an empty page in his notebook, turning it toward you and handing you his pen.

You quickly jotted down your email, a soft smile pulling at your lips as you wondered if anything would even come of this. Maybe your assumption was totally off-base, and he really was just here for the art. 

But he at least had your email address now. If you heard from him, great. If you didn’t, you would get over it. I mean, there was really nothing to get over at this point. You’d never been one to dwell on the past, anyway, so you were used to taking these small kinds of risks.

“You’re sure about this?” Youngjae asked when you gave him his pen back.

“Very. I love talking about art,” you assured him. “It would be selfish of me to keep all this knowledge to myself!”

A quiet laugh escaped Youngjae’s lips, and even though it was quiet, it was enough to melt your heart. You instantly wanted to hear him laugh fully. A loud, robust laugh. In fact, you wanted to make him laugh.

(You were almost second-guessing your own thoughts about being fine with him never contacting you...)

You were just about to start talking about Dance in the City, but you saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of your eye. Your brow furrowed as your gaze shifted, seeing your boss standing nearby and waving you over.

“Excuse me,” you murmured to Youngjae before slipping away and hurrying over.

“What are you doing?” your boss asked with a curious chuckle.

“Oh, I just -- he’s an art student, I was offering to help --” You realized he probably didn’t even really care, so you cut yourself off. “What’s going on?”

“Did you forget about lunch?”

...Yes. Yes, you had. You remembered now that your boss had announced a celebratory lunch for you and the staff members who’d helped you with the exhibit. He was taking you all to a nearby four-star restaurant, and you would surely get a little too tipsy from all the wine you’d drink. But if your boss was paying for it, could you really refuse?

You spared a glance back at Youngjae, but he was too busy studying the painting to notice your gaze on him.

I mean... you’d talked to him. You’d given him a way to contact you. Sure, you would like to continue talking to him, but there was no way you would choose a guy you’d just met over free lunch courtesy of your boss.

So you simply shifted your eyes back to your boss, smiled softly, and nodded.

“Lunch, of course. Lead the way, sir!”

You’d thought Youngjae hadn’t been paying attention when you’d glanced back at him. And he’d done a good job of looking like he was studying the painting.

But he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye.

Not watching in a creepy way, of course. Just... watching. Waiting to see what was going to happen.

He was, as you can imagine, a bit disappointed when you left. He wasn’t expecting you to come and say good-bye to him or anything, but... still. He’d been having an excellent time asking you questions, actually getting to talk to you.

But he had your email, at least. And if you thought, for some reason, he wasn’t going to contact you... oh, how wrong you were.

Youngjae slid his backpack around so he could slip his notebook inside and enjoy the rest of the exhibit (though his mind was a bit distracted, thinking through the fairly long encounter he’d just had with the magnetic curator he’d been daydreaming about for days now).

About an hour later, Youngjae was making his way out of the museum. He’d skipped yet another French class for this, so he felt like he needed to go to his professor’s office and ask if there was any extra credit work he could do to make up for the time he’d missed.

When he passed the front desk, though, a sign caught his eye. Just like he had a couple of weeks ago when another sign caught his eye, he stopped walking, his foot lifted up in mid-air. He took some steps backward. He read the sign again.

Interns wanted. Apply here if interested.

Part 3

[artificialqueens]

My Diamond Crowned Queen Pt. 1 (Ravja) - Chardonnay

A/N: Part 1 of 2. Based on Raja’s “Diamond Crowned Queen” music video (if you haven’t seen it yet, go watch it. You won’t be disappointed). Part 1 is the tease, Part 2 is the smutty follow-up. Enjoy!

It was a warm day in Riverside, California despite it being the end of January. David sat in the bathroom of his home applying face powder as he slowly transformed himself into Raven. It was a Monday, only the middle of the day, but David liked to start his process early so he had plenty of time and didn’t feel rushed to finish his intricate paint. This week was going to be a good time at Micky’s, the girls who were away filming the third season of Drag Race had just come home, and tonight was the LA girls’ first night back at Micky’s. Delta and Raja were the 2 queens selected this year to compete on the reality tv show to represent West Hollywood, and David was particularly excited to get to hang out and party with Sutan again after so long apart.

Before Drag Race, Sutan had been away on a “world tour” with Adam Lambert. He had been gone for almost that entire year travelling the world, and in that year David’s whole world had been flipped upside down.

He never thought that competing on a low-budget reality tv program run by one of the most famous drag queens on the planet would actually change his life. But fast-forward a year and Raven had quickly become one of the most famous and celebrated queens in West Hollywood. She landed herself a permanent hosting gig at one of LA’s biggest gay nightclubs and her “fans” would flock to see her perform.

He had briefly seen his friend for a couple of days before Sutan left for filming, and the show was all they could talk about. Their time together wasn’t long, but for those couple of days the two of them felt connected in a way that they hadn’t since their last interaction over a year before. Connected though shared experience. But there was something else, something new looming over their conversation as well. Nearly 2 years ago now, before Rupaul’s Drag Race or world-wide tours, Sutan connected with David in a completely different way. After a long day of work and an even longer night, the 2 men drunkenly hooked up in Sutan’s West Hollywood apartment. It was totally impulsive but also some of the best sex David had ever had, and then it unexpectedly happened once more before Sutan left for his tour. Now there was something new in their interactions, a flirtiness in the way Sutan looked and smiled at him, but David didn’t let anything go too far as he knew Sutan would soon leave again to film the show. He wanted to try to keep things casual between them, but Sutan’s last night before leaving for Drag Race involved a little too much wine and an unanticipated heated makeout session.

As David finished blocking his brows and began the long process of contouring, his phone rang. It was if someone had been reading his thoughts when he saw Raja’s name pop up on his caller ID. David was surprised Sutan was even awake this early, knowing they didn’t have to be at work until 7pm that night. David put his phone on speaker as he continued to paint.

“Hello? Is this who I think it is? The elusive unicorn himself who only comes to visit me once a year?”

“Oh my god you are so dramatic” David could hear Sutan rolling his eyes through the phone, but just hearing the sound of his voice at all made David smile.

“Bitch I feel like I haven’t seen you in like a year!”

Sutan sighed “I know I’m sorry I’ve been busy and-”

“I know, I know its fine, I just miss your face. Now what was so urgent that you couldn’t wait a few more hours to tell me in-person? You better not be cancelling tonight I swear…”

“No, no I’m not.” Sutan assured him, “I actually called because a couple of days after I got home I met with a music producer.”

“A music producer? Why? You don’t make music.”

“Well guess what bitch? I did! I recorded a song”

“…really?” David was skeptical.

“Yes! And I’m calling to tell you you’re going to be in my music video.” David took a second to process everything Sutan had just told him, he never in a million years thought Sutan would be the type to want to make music.

As if Sutan was listening to his thoughts, he interrupted “I didn’t actually sing that much, I mostly just made the song so I could make my own videos for them. Part of my artistic vision. So are you in?”

“Sounds like I don’t have much of a choice…” David teased.

“You don’t”

“Okay then I guess I’m in.” David laughed and tried to play it cool, but he was actually very flattered that Sutan had thought to ask him and curious about what this video would entail.

“Cool, I just sent you an email with the song file attached. They just finished the final mix yesterday so I’m trying to organize the video shoot as quickly as possible. Give the song a listen when you can and text me what you think. I gotta make another call.”

As soon as David hung up the phone, his curiosity got the better of him and he immediately opened up his email and found the file from Sutan entitled “Diamond Crowned Queen”. David rolled his eyes, “real subtle…” he thought to himself. He was still in the process of finishing his face, but he figured he could multitask and listen to the song while he painted. He was wrong.

The beginning of the song was certainly something! It was obvious that Sutan was not a master lyricist or any kind of singer, but the beat was actually not that bad so David continued to follow along, amused by the exceedingly sexual lyrics. So Sutan. Then the breakdown of the song came and his bathroom was filled with the all-too familiar sounds of Sutan moaning and whispering. He knew very well that Sutan was an extremely…passionate person, so although this kind of thing didn’t exactly surprise David, it was still very bold. And provocative. David had to stop in the middle of painting as possible scenarios flew through his head, did he just agree to be in some kind of soft porn film? Straight away David texted Sutan to ask what exactly this video shoot would consist of and what he’d gotten himself into.

“You’ll see ;)” was the only message he got back.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Exactly 2 weeks later Raja stood on the rooftop of one of his apartment buildings setting up cameras and a blank white drop sheet on the wall. This video was being filmed on the lowest possible budget, but Raja knew he wouldn’t need much more than himself and the three other people he’d casted to make it work. He wanted the concept to be very simple and the focus would be on his 3 favorite things: clothing, sex, and himself.

Raven was the last to film of the three friends he featured in the video. The other two shoots were done the day before and went incredibly smoothly as everyone easily fell into their roles without hesitation. There was lots of messy kissing and smudged makeup involved which was always a good time. He was having way too much fun making out with all his hot friends, and he intentionally saved Raven for last. David was the first person Raja thought of when he envisioned this video. He needed someone who was good-looking, strongly resembled himself, and who he knew he had tangible sexual chemistry with, and David checked all of those boxes. This final shoot was going to be different from the others, he wanted to use that connection and tension he felt with Raven ever since their drunken hookup all those years ago. It was strange, Raja couldn’t get the thought of them together out of his head, and he was the master of random, meaningless sex, usually a fuck em and forget em type. But for some reason it was near impossible to forget that night with David, and he craved more. So of course his very first thought was to cast Raven in this very specific role.

David arrived on set exactly as Sutan had instructed him to, with his foundation done and brows blocked but nothing else. He always felt ridiculous without brows, like some kind of alien, but knowing Sutan that was probably the look he was going for. David was a bit nervous when he arrived, but seeing that they were filming outside relaxed him a bit. They couldn’t get too nasty if they were filming on a rooftop, right?

Raja was sitting off to the side viewing something with the 2 camera guys when he saw David walk in and waved him over. “Hey! I’m just watching some playback of the footage with Mario I shot yesterday. I’ll come over in a second and we’ll finish your makeup.” David was curious and glanced over Raja’s shoulder to see what the scenes looked like, and to no surprise it was a lot of aggressive, messy kissing. “So this is what I agreed to”, David thought “I’m getting paid to have makeup smudged all over my face…” He was a bit unsure how he felt about doing all this for a music video. Of course he’d made out with Sutan a few times already but never in drag and certainly never in front of a camera. He gave a nervous smile as Raja turned around from watching the playback.

“C’mon, let’s go get your makeup finished.” He took David’s hand and led him over to the makeshift makeup station set up on the opposite side of the rooftop. “The idea is I want us to look as similar as possible, so we’re just going to keep a light contour to eliminate our facial features and no brows”

“You’re not letting me wear eye brows?” David whined.

“Nope, I want us to look like twin androgynous aliens. And I have these cool foam wigs too” Raja always had the craziest and most creative imagination, but he also had good taste so David trusted his vision. He sat in the makeup chair as Sutan started getting all his brushes out. “You brought your blue contacts right? I want to really focus on your eyes so I’m not putting on as much liner as you usually do”

“Okay fine.” David said, I’m trusting you with my face which is a pretty big deal for me y’know…”

“Bitch relax, I know what I’m doing. You’ll look good.”

David sat in the chair and let Raja work on his face and transform him into his own version of Raven. It had been a long time since anyone had done David’s makeup for him, and he forgot how much he loved the feeling, especially with Raja doing it. Their faces were so close together, and seeing Raja so concentrated studying him like a painting combined with the soft touches of the brushes against his skin created a kind of quiet intimacy. They chatted casually about the shoot. According to Raja they weren’t going to be moving around too much, staying pretty much in the middle of the white drop sheet, and Raven’s job was very simple: just stand there and look pretty for the camera. The thought relaxed her, looking pretty was something she could do.

“Now I know you usually do a more matte color on your lips, but I want both our lips to look more full and highlighted so I’m using a gloss. I think a lighter one than I have on will suit you better. But I’m warning you now…” Raja continued with a playful smile “we’re both going to be wearing each other’s shade by the end of the shoot.”

Raven laughed softly but inside she felt her stomach flip. Raja had been away for so long, and ever since that night years ago Raven couldn’t help that every thought of him was invaded by that intense look in his eyes before he kissed her, or the way his bare skin felt electric against her own. She missed him so much, and each interaction they’d had since had been oozing with underlying sexual tension. The anticipation for this video shoot was making her both anxious and excited. Raja finished up applying her gloss, even the feeling of the wand was sensitive against her lips, and she couldn’t help but notice the way Raja took his time. He was being especially gentle and slow, seemingly transfixed on the fullness of her pout. She didn’t know it, but the anticipation was mutual, and Raja couldn’t wait to have Raven the way he wanted once again.

Raja was someone who very much liked to be in control of things. He was an artist and a creator, and he liked when things turned out exactly as he envisioned them. This was true for his art and in his personal life. Most people wrote him off as a submissive or passive person because of his more feminine qualities, but in reality Raja was the polar opposite. He was disciplined and authoritative, and very much a “my way or the highway” type of person. He was hotheaded, competitive and bossy, and he absolutely loved getting his way. Being the creative director for a music video was like a dream to Raja, as he got to make every decision down to the last detail. He also enjoyed telling other people what to do and how to stand and how to act, even the mere thought of it was a complete turn-on for him. His vision of Raven’s role in the video was very much inspired by their first time together, his thoughts were constantly filled with memories of how well David complied with all of his directions. He wanted Raven to be a subset of himself and his own desire for sex and control, hence why he dressed them the same. He needed Raven to follow and trust him completely, and Raja was eager to have him in that vulnerable position again.

After Raven’s makeup was finished, Raja went to grab the outfits they were both going to wear as Raven looked in the mirror at Raja’s work. She was actually amazed at how good she looked and how similar she looked to Raja yet still like herself. Not that she ever doubted Raja’s makeup abilities, but she knew her face wasn’t the easiest to work with. When Raja returned Raven wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the leather harnesses that he held in his hand. She was glad she made the decision not to eat anything today in case she had to take clothes off on camera, but it seemed like they wouldn’t even be putting clothes on to start with. She did wish she had a drink though, because every new revelation was giving her a better idea of the direction this video was going in.

“You want me to wear that?”

“Yeah, why? Are you not into leather?” Raja joked.

“I-no it’s not that, I guess just…not what I was expecting? But its fine! I’m fine.” Raven stumbled over her words a bit but tried her best to play it off.

“Okay good, take off your shirt” Raja’s instructions were short and direct, reminding Raven a bit of his tone during their first sexual encounter. And just like she did that night, Raven immediately obeyed and discarded her t shirt as Raja did the same. The cool breeze felt good against her newly bare skin. Raja tried both of the harnesses on them, deciding which one looked better on himself and which looked better on Raven. As Raven tried to put each of them on she struggled, unsure of how to properly fasten clips and which strap went where. Raja looked at her and laughed “Oh my god, what are you doing? Come here” as he helped her dress. She felt a bit embarrassed, clearly not having much prior experience with these things, but she gladly accepted Raja’s assistance. Even just the simple touch of Raja’s fingers on her bare torso made Raven’s pulse quicken, but she suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone with the small camera crew present and tried to push any unholy thoughts out of her head. She had to remain professional.

Once they made a final decision about their attire, Raja gave Raven a quick run-down about what he wanted them to do as they made their way over to the white backdrop.

“The song is going to play through those speakers beside us so that I can mouth the words while it plays.” he gestured to the left, “You don’t really have to do much, don’t lip sync or anything. I just want you to kind of stand there and look at the camera and really just…do whatever I tell you to do.”

“Whatever you tell me to do? I’m not sure if I like the sound of that.”

Raja smiled and stepped a little closer, murmuring low enough that only Raven could hear “Actually if my memory serves me correctly, you very much enjoy being told what to do.”

Raven blushed as memories of submission and obedience came flooding back, and Raja was right she had enjoyed it, more than she ever thought she would. “Yeah but that was different, we were alone!”

“Then just pretend we’re alone now too, there’s only like 2 camera guys here anyways.” Raven still looked a bit hesitant. “Look, I have a few pre-planned ideas but I’m mostly just gonna do whatever I’m feeling with the lyrics, so you just react or do whatever feels natural too. I’ll direct you if I want something specific.”

Raja reached out and gently took Raven’s hand, trying to calm her nerves. “Don’t you trust me?” Raven looked into his dark eyes and nodded her head and smiled. She had a really hard time saying no to Raja. “Good, now go stand in the middle of the white backdrop so I can tell you how far you need to stand from the camera.” Raven did as she was told as Raja stood behind the camera and continued to direct her, “A little bit closer. Closer…perfect stop there.”

“So are we just being shot from the waist up or do we have to take our pants off too?” Raven half-jokingly asked.

Raja looked up from the screen. “Well I wasn’t going to but you are more than welcome to take them off. I know I wouldn’t object.”

Raven laughed and looked away as Raja gave her an appreciative look. She still wasn’t completely used to Raja sexualizing her so openly in front of people. She’ll have to get over that embarrassment quick, Raja noted to himself. These people were going to witness a whole lot more than that.

Raja made his way back over to stand beside Raven and the other guy not working the camera came to mark their places with tape. Raja could still sense a small wave of nervousness from Raven, so he was glad he had made the decision to close off this part of the shoot. He had gotten rid of pretty much everybody who wasn’t completely necessary because he knew this one was going to be much more intimate and authentic than the others. He hoped it would make Raven (and himself) a bit more comfortable with less eyes on them.

“Okay so for this first part I want you to just stand straight on looking at the camera. And just look…cool” Raja instructed.

“Cool, sure okay.” Raven laughed a bit at Raja’s vague directions. Again she was wishing she had a drink (or four) to take the edge off. Why was she so nervous?

“You know what I mean.” Raja rolled his eyes as he stood right beside her, so close that Raven could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Just stand there, just like that, and don’t move.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious Rave, don’t move. Even if I touch you.”

“Okay!”

Raja leaned in even closer so close Raven could feel his breath against the side of her face. His eyes were fixated on his fingers tracing over the designs in the tattoos on her shoulder, his mouth right next to her ear.

“Because I’m going to. Touch you. But you have to stay still. You can’t even look at me.” Raja’s low, stern voice in her ear sent a shiver up Raven’s spine.

“Okay” she whispered.

Both queens turned their eyes toward the other and there was something, a silent understanding coupled with an intense anticipation burning between them. Raja’s eyes glistened with a heated but playful energy, almost challenging Raven in a way, and suddenly the air around them shifted. Raven felt her nerves begin to dissipate as she fell into that rare yet familiar role, a surrender reserved for one of the few people who dared to assert control over her. Raja felt her submission as the authoritative energy took over him, and he knew both of them were finally ready.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

The first few takes were admittedly a little clunky. Raja decided they would film the video in pieces rather than running it straight through and having to fix their makeup a thousand times. He also had the idea that as the video progressed he would allow Raven more and more freedom to react to his manipulations, which he knew would become increasingly intense later on. Right now Raja had Raven standing stock-still and staring at the camera as he moved around her. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing yet, all he knew is that he wanted Raven silent and motionless like a prop he could use however he pleased. The thought alone was exciting to him, but actually having her here proved a bit more overwhelming than he anticipated. Raja mouthed along with the words of his song while he improvised around her, posing and draping himself over her, whispering in her ear, and smoothing his hands over her shoulders and chest. Raven was doing pretty well not reacting to the touching, for the most part she stood completely still and her eyes never left the camera. But when Raja starting lip syncing in her ear and their faces got a little closer, Raven couldn’t stop herself and let out a small laugh.

“Raven!” Raja stopped the camera and gave her a look.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Raven covered her mouth to stop herself from giggling more.

“Stop laughing. This is supposed to be sexy!”

“I know! I’m sorry” Raven tried to straighten out her smile, “but you have to admit that ‘thunder-breathing dragon cat’ is kind of funny. How high were you when you wrote this?” Raven couldn’t help the smile that was sneaking back onto her face.

Raja tried his best to act offended couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped too. Raven always somehow managed to clock his intoxicated antics exactly, however he wasn’t about to admit she was right. He needed to keep Raven under control and her unexpectedly shading his song lyrics was not part of the plan. He stepped directly in front of her so the only thing the camera operator could see was Raja’s back, their faces only inches apart so that only they could hear one another. Raja tried his best to eliminate any amusement from his voice that Raven’s teasing caused. He needed to remind her who was in charge here.

“Stop it Rave. I need you to take this seriously”

“I know. I’m really trying to, I swear-“

“Are you?” Raja tried to keep a rigid tone. “Because I told you I need you to do exactly as I say”

“I know.”

“And that didn’t include your shady commentary about the song lyrics. I specifically remember asking you to be still and quiet.”

Raja was being strangely serious about this, Raven wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She was slightly intimidated by Raja’s authoritative tone but also kind of turned on. Raja was really hot when he got angry. She opened her mouth to apologize but Raja cut her off, leaning forward so his mouth was right above her ear. His right hand tightly wrapped around her wrist.

“If you can’t behave properly and follow instructions I’m gonna have to take you inside and remind you how to act. And believe me, you don’t want that.”

Raven didn’t even have a chance to react before Raja suddenly spun around to face the camera man, smiling again. “I think we’re gonna do a couple more takes and then switch it up a bit, move on to the next part”

For the next few takes Raven did exactly as she was told. She didn’t make any noise, she just stood and stared directly into the camera lens as Raja continued to touch her neck and shoulders while he lip synced. However her mind was distracted by Raja’s calm, casual warning in her ear and wondering exactly what he meant by “remind her how to act”? The thought of Raja taking Raven inside to punish her was strangely arousing and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Submitting was one thing, but actually looking forward to punishment? That was not something Raven was familiar with. There was just something about Raja that seemed to make her crazy sometimes. The tension between them was tight like the knot in Raven’s stomach, yet he was still so gentle with her. The stark contrast between Raja’s stern words and his feather-light touches was driving her crazy, and she wished so badly that Raja would let her do something other than simply stand there, unable to look at or touch him.

Raja on the other hand was fully enjoying the complete submission he felt from Raven after their little talk. He wanted to see if she really was trying to take this as seriously as she said, so Raja found ways to knowingly test her limits. He would intentionally touch her as softly as he could, breathing the song lyrics next to her face and letting just the tips of his fingers dance across her collarbone, and then suddenly he’d move to the other side and grab on to her shoulders and neck harshly to see if she would react. But she was so good for him, staying still and doing exactly as she was told. Her eyes never diverted from the camera, but Raja could still see the combination of distraction and need behind them. It was a game of wills they were playing, and Raja had to be in control. He had to win.

Finally Raven thought her prayers were answered when Raja announced that they were moving into the next section, but Raja wasn’t quite done playing with her just yet.

“So this is gonna be more of a tight shot, just the shoulders up, so we won’t see anything below that” Raja explained while he checked to make sure her makeup was still intact. Raven sent a silent thank you to the lord above that she would finally be able to move and touch him, or so she thought. “I still want you mostly still though. I’m going to be behind you in your ear so you won’t really see me” Raja noticed the faint disappointment in Raven’s eyes even as she nodded. He smiled as his hand left her face and skated softly down her body, pausing to run his fingers over her hip and slowly moving across the waistband of the front of her jeans. “but you’ll feel me, and you can move a little more. You don’t have to be so stiff this time.”

Raven inhaled sharply at the feeling of Raja’s fingers so low on her stomach. His gentle touch coupled with his deep voice had her entranced, and she internally willed his hands to travel just a few inches lower as she nodded again to show she understood. Raja didn’t hear her silent plea and instead ran over to check-in with the sound guy that everything was set at the correct time. Raven let out her breath, suddenly remembering that there were other people on set, and mentally ran through Raja’s directions again. They were starting the breakdown section. Raven vividly remembered listening to the song alone in her bathroom, and realized the “breakdown” was likely that section in the middle with all the moaning and whispering. Raja was going to do all that behind her? And she wouldn’t even be able to see? Raven would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed.

The heat of Raja’s body coming up behind her interrupted her thoughts, and she instantly felt his hand begin to caress her back. Ever since his little ‘threat’ earlier, Raja’s hands were like a magnet to Raven’s skin, constantly touching as soon as they were within a certain distance. Each small touch felt like an electric current running through them both, and it evoked a heady sense of desire in the pit of Raven’s stomach. Raja leaned her chin on Raven’s shoulder, the air between them was think with anticipation for what was coming next.

“Are you okay?” Raja asked, still rubbing Raven’s back. Raven nodded her head again, distracted.

“You can talk y’know, when I said I wanted you quiet I just meant I didn’t want you being sassy and talking back to me.”

Raven smiled meekly “I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Raja’s hand moved all the way up the base of Raven’s neck as he leaned his head on hers. All he wanted in that moment was to kiss her, but he had to restrain himself to avoid making a mess of their makeup. Instead he continued to tease her, dragging the fingertips of his right hand across her shoulder blades and his left hand coming to trace over her lower back, the sensation making Raven’s eyes fall heavy. Raja leaned in and murmured softly “Remember, the focus is just on our faces here, so make sure you look at the camera okay?”

Raven was so distracted by Raja’s hands on her that she barely registered what he was saying, but still she managed to follow his instructions and open her eyes. When she felt Raja’s right hand brush over a particularly sensitive spot on the side of her neck, Raven couldn’t help but lean against Raja and reach behind her to tentatively caress his thigh. Raja hissed at her touch. The dominant side of him was screaming at him to make her stop, that she wasn’t allowed to touch yet, but he closed his eyes and allowed himself to indulge for just a moment. He had been denied physical affection since they began, but he couldn’t believe that such a small, intimate touch was causing the blood to rush below his belt. Finally his dominance took over and he pushed Raven’s hand away. “Not yet.”

Raja’s hands went away too as he signaled to start the music. A little bit of the last verse was played as a lead in to the breakdown and Raja mouthed the words directly beside Raven’s ear. At this close proximity she noticed that Raja had a tendency to actually say the words under his breath when he lip synced rather than just mouthing it. She stood a little in front of him and stared at the camera with her lips parted slightly, still a bit affected by Raja’s gentle petting moments before. Raja draped his arm over Raven’s left shoulder and let his hand drag up her chest, over her shoulder and down her back as he sang “I’m gonna give you all of my love”, then he shifted his body forward, snaking his hand around to her front and pressing himself into her back as he breathed in her ear “much much more than kisses and hugs”. Raven gasped as she felt Raja press into her from behind, not expecting to feel him half-hard against her back. She tried her best to keep her composure but Raven was sure that the camera caught the sudden moment of surprise in her eyes. Raja didn’t stop though, as the music slowed and sounds of him moaning surrounded them, Raven felt the hand splayed across her stomach begin to drift downward to the inside of her thigh. Both sets of eyes never strayed from the camera while Raja touched her and let out a breathy groan in her ear. Raven tried her best to stay still and collected but as his hand slowly inched higher up her leg Raven couldn’t control her instinctive response. The combination of Raja’s hand brushing excessively close to her and the feeling of him still pressing into her backside made Raven’s eyes fall closed and her head roll back. Raja didn’t stop the shoot to correct her, instead he pressed himself into her further, teasing her and letting her fully enjoy the sensation. His eyes stayed fixed on the camera and his hand just barely brushed against the front of Raven’s jeans as he whispered “Gimmie your cock” into her ear. Raven couldn’t help the way she pressed herself back against Raja, desperately seeking friction. And although he couldn’t deny how good Raven’s ass felt pressing into him, Raja needed to keep some element of control in this situation so his hands came up to wordlessly still her hips.

“Trust me.”

Raja reveled in the fact that he had complete control over Raven, the sense of authority and seeing her so affected by his touch gave him a high stronger than any drug could. There was nothing in this world Raja enjoyed more than dominating someone with a strong personality. That initial battle of wills leading to their eventual submission provided him with a challenge and sense of accomplishment. And anyone that knew Raven could tell you she was not a passive type, she was strong-willed and sassy and shady and beautiful, but as Raja came to know her better he saw through the front she put on and uncovered her softer, more insecure side. These conflicting aspects of Raven’s personality always intrigued him, also reminding him a bit of himself. He loved to toy with her emotions in an attempt to bring that pliable side of her out, but still enjoyed her strong-willed nature and occasional moments of insolence.

They continued like this for a little while longer, Raja occasionally running his hands down Raven’s back or across her stomach, breathing and moaning in her ear. He could see Raven becoming overwhelmed by the constant stimulation of his hands and he didn’t want things to get out of hand yet, so he murmured a low warning that he was going to let go of her. The absence of Raja’s touch made Raven whine and stumble a little without his body there to support her, but she slowly collected herself. She was already so worked up from Raja’s touching and teasing, and she felt both frustration and arousal from the fact that he was treating her like a toy doll, forcing her to stay still while he played with her however he wanted. She was happy when Raja decided it was time to switch positions again.

They switched back to a wide shot, as far away as possible without exposing the bottom half of their bodies but still wanting to capture as much of their interactions as they could. Raja turned Raven to face him, holding onto both of her hands with their bodies mere inches apart like he was holding her captive. After the heaviness of their previous interactions, both queens were restless and eager to have their hands on each other. Raven especially had spent the entire shoot so far suppressing her desire to touch Raja’s bare skin, even just the feeling of his palms against hers was enough to drive her crazy. She waited for Raja’s next direction, internally begging him to give her more autonomy.

“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, his eyes subconsciously flickering down to her lips.

“Good”

“Just good?”

Raven smiled faintly at Raja’s flirty tone. “Really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Raven felt his thumb brush against hers. “But we’re not quite done yet. And for this last part I want us close.”

“Okay.”

“Really close. As close as possible” Raja brought their hands to either side as he took a small step towards Raven, practically standing on top of her. “I want our bodies completely pressed together. I want to be able to feel every inch of your skin against mine.” Raven felt her breath catch from Raja’s words in her ear. “I need to be able to touch you anywhere I want, and I want you to touch me back.”

Raven exhaled a small sigh of relief at the last part “I’m allowed to move?”

“Yes, but only a little. I’m still the one in control, I’m gonna hold you and I’m gonna touch you. I just need you to follow me.”

“Follow you where?”

“Follow my touch” he whispered in her ear. The smile in Raja’s voice was hypnotic, “React however feels natural for you, but I’ll give you little directions while we film.”

Raven absentmindedly nodded “Okay.”

Raja’s hands left hers to signal the music and cameraman to start, but immediately they returned to stroke either side of her face. Their gazes locked as Raja’s hands continued down her face and neck. At this point neither one of them were mouthing the words, but she heard Raja’s muted instructions, “Look at the camera.” Raven did as she was told and Raja continued to move his left hand down her body. He watched intently as his hand drifted over the muscles in her chest, feeling each one flex under his touch. His right hand held onto her shoulder to steady her as his fingertips continued grazing down Raven’s stomach. Raja watched her face attentively while his fingers continued to explore, her eyes staying locked on the camera as per his instructions. His right hand came up to caress the side of her face again, and when she didn’t waver under his touch, he let his left hand drift down further to brush against the front of her leg, his right hand falling down the side of her neck. Raja closed his eyes and envisioned them in a much more private, intimate setting.

Raven felt herself shiver at his touch, but her eyes never left the camera. Although she had permission to move and reciprocate, she felt frozen in place. She was so used to being touched and manipulated like a prop, it was almost natural for her to just stand and enjoy the feeling of Raja’s hands on her. Suddenly Raja stood tall again, bringing his left hand back up to meet his right. He turned her face back towards his, close enough that their eyes fell closed. Raven instinctively leaned into him as she heard him whisper again.

“Touch me.”

She felt Raja lean away slightly as his hands wrapped around her, one on her lower back and one around the back of her head, and he continued to mouth the lyrics when the song picked back up. Raven also turned her eyes to the camera and let her arms wrap around Raja’s small frame. The feeling of his skin was like a smooth silk under her hands, so satisfying after such a long deprivation. They both posed and mugged to the camera for a moment before Raja brought her in closer, holding her in a tight embrace with one hand roughly gripping the back of her neck. Up until this point they had managed to keep at least a little bit of distance between them, but now Raja held Raven’s body flush against his own, feeling every inch of each other’s bare skin just as he promised. His left hand suddenly skated down Raven’s back and over her jeans, gently pressing their lower bodies into each other. Raven gasped as she felt her cock press against his, and she noticed Raja falter a little when his eyes fluttered in the middle of singing along. The sensation was overpowering for Raja, and his need for more took over as he leaned even further into Raven. His hands were everywhere as he held her desperately, one splayed across her back and the other caressing her face, holding her head steady as he breathed the words right next to her mouth. He heard a small sound escape from Raven’s lips as he subconsciously pressed himself into her again. Both of them were completely overwhelmed by the feeling of them rubbing together through the front of their jeans, but finally Raja forced himself to pull away before things went too far.

Raven slowly opened her eyes when she realized Raja had stepped away from her. She was met by Raja’s intense stare, a stare Raven knew from previous experience meant he was both hungry and insatiable. They paused filming and gave each other a moment to take a breath and compose themselves, but even through his own lust Raja still wanted to check on Raven before coming together again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah” Raven breathed and nodded.

This time when they came together their interactions were a little softer and more hesitant. Their bodies were still pressed together, unable to part for more than a minute, but Raven only allowed herself to touch Raja’s back with just her fingertips. Raja delicately reached his hand up to Raven’s neck, eventually wrapping around the back and gripping tightly to anchor her in place. Raja’s soft then suddenly strong grip on her neck made Raven inhale sharply and close her eyes, enjoying the feeling of him taking complete control, her whole body tingling with anticipation. He held her close as his left hand continued to gently caress her, drifting over her collarbone and tracing patterns down her chest. Raja savoured every reaction he saw across Raven’s face, trying to burn the image into his memory. The contrast between the rough grip on her neck and the feather-light touches against her skin held Raven in a trance, and when Raja’s hand moved down to stroke her leg again, this time much closer to where she really wanted him to touch, she couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped her parted lips. Raja smiled at the sound, amused by Raven’s slowly waning self-control. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she craved, and Raja wanted it too. But he was the one in control, he held the power, and only he was the one who decided exactly when Raven would get what her body was begging for. Raja was feeling particularly power-hungry today, and he wanted to tease her just a little longer.

Raja continued to play with her, his hand wrapping around to the back of her thigh and gently scratching his nails up and down. He observed each small reaction on Raven’s face, and also felt the reactions to his teasing in her pants, every so often feeling her cock twitch against his. The soft gasps and lolling of her head gave him a sense of satisfaction. Raja knew he had complete control over her now. She had reached the state of submission Raja yearned for when he initially thought to cast Raven in this role, and the way she subconsciously followed the sound of his voice, silently begging him to close the slight distance between them, told Raja he could do anything in that moment. His hand left the back of Raven’s leg and came up to spread across her cheek, the other still gripping the back of her neck. He watched as Raven slowly opened her eyes and they both paused for a moment, gazes locked. Raven’s icy stare was piercing but held a noticeable sense of desperation, her eyes pleading with Raja to give her what she needed. Raja held her gaze for a moment longer, wordlessly reminding her that he was the one in control, but still his left hand was gentle as he moved to caress the side of her face. Finally he let himself lean into her, extremely slow and restrained as both of their eyes fell closed in anticipation. Raven barely moved, allowing Raja complete control as their parted lips brushed lightly against each other. He was so slow and tentative, breathing into her open mouth. The teasing was pushing Raven to the edge. She instinctively tried to lean in closer, desperate to close the distance completely, but Raja would not allow her any power. He held her firmly in his hands as he gently pressed his mouth to hers. All the tension that had been building throughout the day, the touching and grinding and soft whispers in Raven’s ear, ignited and exploded like fireworks at the first bit of contact. Within seconds Raven felt Raja’s tongue slip into her mouth, leisurely exploring the new territory, and she immediately flashed back to their first kiss outside the bar. She remembered the way he held her against the wall while their tongues roamed freely. This kiss felt much more controlled but still a bit experimental, and this time Raven gave into Raja completely, letting him take the lead with her hesitantly following.

Raja’s grip on her face was somehow both firm and gentle, holding Raven in place as he kissed every inch of her mouth that he could reach. Raven stood mostly still, eyes closed and arms languidly wrapped around Raja’s lower back while he spread his dark lipstick all over her skin. Raja’s hands finally released their iron-like hold on the back of her neck, instead coming up to frame either side of her face. Raven felt his lips and tongue trail across her chin, leaving messy, dark brown streaks in their path. She was caught by surprise when she felt a soft bite on the left side of her bottom lip, letting out a soft whine at Raja’s sucking and nibbling, but he didn’t let up. Raja had waited far too long for this; imagining all the things he’d do to her mouth, thinking about how her swollen lips felt against his tongue, and how she’d look with his lipstick smeared across her face. He subconsciously rocked his hips into Raven’s before roughly pressing his lips to hers again. The slight pressure sparked something inside her, and this time she fully reciprocated Raja’s kiss. Their kiss was still slow, but this time more urgent and desperate as their fingertips dug into each other’s skin.

They continued their dance for another minute, both of Raja’s hands coming down to circle around Raven’s neck as his tongue licked against hers. He heard the cameraman say something which finally caused Raja to pull away, suddenly remembering that there were 2 other people present. He looked over to see the camera still filming so Raja continued his performance while Raven recovered from his attack on her mouth. Raja could feel her body almost limp against his own, her chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. She was completely exhausted and he wanted to take advantage of her satiated state, so he continued to tease her just a little more. Raja brought his hand across Raven’s shoulders and back, feeling her exhale heavily and lean into him. His hand continued on a path down the front of her chest and stomach, his fingers just barely ghosting over the noticeable bulge in the front of her jeans before continuing down her legs. Raven was overtaken by the amount of stimulation, leaning into Raja’s touch and letting her head fall back with a breathy moan.

For a moment Raja’s eyes left the camera to glance at the small monitor to his left, appreciating the look of pleasure on Raven’s face. As usual Raja’s attention was fixated on her mouth and the sight of her lipstick smudged across her face, exactly as he pictured it in his mind. Raja had one last idea that he wanted to film before they wrapped and he released Raven from his teasing and torture.

“Rave” he whispered to see if she was still coherent enough to follow his directions. It took Raven a second to register her name though her haziness but eventually she opened her eyes, instantly searching for Raja’s warm gaze, but his eyes were focused on her mouth. Raja’s hand lifted to the side of her face, his thumb grazing over her smudged makeup, and Raven thought for a moment that he was going to lean in and kiss her again. Instead she felt his hand glide down to lift her chin slightly. His fingers lingered just below her bottom lip, still seemingly entranced by her full, messy pout. His next instruction took Raven by surprise.

“Open your mouth.” Raven’s response was automatic, still hazy from their very long and intense makeout session. Raja smiled at her easy compliance “Good girl, now lick me.”

Raven looked at him with a dazed confusion, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

“Lick my fingers” Raja instructed as he traced them along her bottom lip. Raven hesitantly stuck out her tongue and licked the pads of Raja’s fingers. Both of them shivered at the intimate contact and she heard Raja curse under his breath. “Turn towards the camera and do it again.”

Raven followed his directions and turned herself slightly so her eyes were on the camera. She let her tongue run over Raja’s fingertips again while he smudged his own lipstick even further with the back of his hand. This time however, Raven didn’t just stop at a simple lick. Once her tongue reached the very tips of his fingers, she put 2 of his digits completely in her mouth, sucking on them gently. Raja hissed with a perfect mix of surprise, arousal and frustration at Raven for not following his instructions directly. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and stroked the side of her face. “So eager” he shook his head, but all Raja could think of now was Raven’s lips around him. He hadn’t even noticed that the song had ended and they were standing in complete silence. Raja broke their stare to look up at the crew, easily shifting from intense to casual.

“Did we get all the footage we needed?” Raja asked the guys behind the camera.

“Yup, I think that’s a wrap!”

[lalainajanes]

80+98?

80 Green Eyed Epiphany + 98 Curses

On day four of Caroline’s visit to New Orleans  (she’d never been, despite numerous invitations), Klaus had been cursed.

That first morning he’d been supposed to meet her at a cafe. She’d predictably fallen in love with beignets, is working her way through all the top rated spots. Kind of driving Klaus crazy - he’s not short of opinions (on anything, ever) and doesn’t trust the taste levels of internet strangers - but Caroline wants to make up her own mind.

He’d complained but at least it had made her laugh.

She’d gotten a text just as she’d been leaving her hotel, a short message from Klaus saying a small problem had cropped up overnight and could she possibly swing by the compound?

She’d changed direction, picked up two coffees on her way, had reread Klaus’ text looking for a clue. Caroline had figured the lack of urgency meant the problem was relatively minor, no chances of death or large scale destruction.

She’d been kinda wrong about that.

Freya had answered her knock looking a little tired and a lot aggravated. Caroline had regretted not calling ahead and offering to pick up an extra coffee. She’s barely offered a greeting when Frey’s had sighed, appearing relieved, “Come on in, I’m glad you’re here. Klaus is being… well, Klaus.”

“Murdery and a pain in the ass?” Caroline had asked.

Freya had laughed and agreed and they’d both been on the receiving end of Klaus’ very best unimpressed glare when they’d joined him in Freya’s study. He hadn’t said anything even though Klaus did snippy excellently he always managed a flawless amount of bite, his accent and ridiculous confidence smoothing any hint of whininess.

Klaus staying silent, not even bothering with a greeting or a thank you when she’d set his coffee down, had been weird.

“What’s up?” Caroline had asked cautiously, taking in the mountain of opened spell books.

Freya had done the explaining.

A witch (they didn’t know which one) had placed a curse (the specifics of which were also unknown) on Klaus and his voice had been taken.

Caroline might have made a joke about The Little Mermaid. And had been horrified that neither Klaus nor Freya had seen the Disney movie. And they pretended to be so cultured and fancy, sheesh.

Klaus had grabbed her attention, handing her a sketchbook with a few scribbled (if one could call Klaus’ pretty handwriting such a thing) lines. He thought it best to get out of New Orleans for a bit, he was sorry to have to cut her tour short but would be happy to continue it at a later date. The final bit was a question asking her to leave with him.

Saying no hadn’t even crossed Caroline’s mind. Showing up in Klaus’ home base hadn’t been a casual move. In the decades since she’d reestablished contact. Fifty-three years ago she’d sent him an invitation to her college graduation. Klaus had shown up with a present this time, an airline voucher, and Caroline had accepted it, driven to Atlanta and taken the first available international flight out.

A decision she’s never regretted for a second.

At some point she’d taken to sending him postcards, quick little reviews of whatever city she’d just finished devouring jotted on the back. Caroline had taken to throwing herself kick ass birthday parties and Klaus had strolled in to her big four-oh.

She hadn’t minded and they’d split the bottle of champagne he’d brought. After that Klaus had popped up in person every couple of years. They’d stopped bothering to pretend they wouldn’t end up in bed together after their third not so coincidental meet up. They’d graduated from postcards to regular emails and occasional phone calls.

Caroline thinks she might be ready for something more but she hasn’t quite figured out how to say so.

She’d set the sketchbook down once she’d finished reading, Klaus had been watching her expectantly, just the slightest bit wary.  Very aware of their audience Caroline had kept it simple, “I’m in. Where are we going?”

Less than twenty-four hours later and they’re in New York. Since the goal was to lay low their staying at one of her homes. It’s only a one bedroom but the views are amazing. She watches Klaus closely as they walk in but he seems happy enough, making a close study of the art on the walls. She explains where she’d gotten them as he moves from piece to piece. For once her chatterbox tendencies are going to come in handy. They end up next to the windows, Klaus had shed his jacket, the sleeves of his t-shirt are pushed up. Caroline bumps her shoulder into his, “This is why I bought the place.”

The sun’s just beginning to set and she figures Klaus will appreciate the sight. When she hears his appreciative hum she forgets all about the changing sky. He’s turned to face her, face just as surprised. His mouth opens and no sound comes out. Klaus tries again, his jaw tensing in frustration. She reaches out instinctively, and when her hand touches his forearm words ring out, “...meddlesome bloody witches!”

Caroline assumes the words she’d missed had been creative death threats but she can’t bring herself to care. “Okay. Experiment time. Say something.”

“This place suits you, love. I can see why you chose it.”

Caroline beams. It was always nice to have her good taste appreciated. “Why thank you.” She takes two steps away from him, “How about now?”

Nothing.

He sighs, inaudibly, and Caroline reaches for his hand. His fingers thread through hers, squeezing. “While I see some perks to this loophole I imagine it’ll come with plenty of irritations.”

“Can everybody hear you if they touch you? Is it maybe just vampires? Maybe it’s just me?” Kind of a conceited thought but they’d been spending an awful lot of time together over the last few days. Maybe whatever he’d been whammied with had noticed. Magic could be tricky.

“We’ll have to test it. Irritating, like I said.”

He’s distinctly grumbly and Caroline finds herself smiling. “First step, call Freya. Maybe this news will help her out. Then we’ll go out and play scientists.”

“And the second step?”

Caroline grins, “Well, I want to shower off the plane germs. Wanna help?”

With that much skin on skin contact they should be able to hash out their plan of attack with minimal interruptions.

It doesn’t take long for Caroline to begin contemplating death and destruction. More death, if she’s being honest. Other people’s. They’d quickly found that Klaus could talk to anyone as long as he touched them. Plenty of people take the opportunity to touch him back.

And that’s where Caroline’s issues had begun.

She can’t really blame them. He’s an appealing package and the random humans they meet in restaurants and clubs don’t know the dimples and charm hide something dangerous.

Still, it’s driving her freaking nuts. She wants to slap away the hands that rest on his arm, shove in between Klaus and every person who pushes into his space. Had indulged in a brief but satisfying fantasy of ripping out the hair of the woman last night who’d feigned drunkenness and pressed her barely contained boobs all over him.

She’d all bit ripped his pants off when they’d gotten back to her place. Klaus hadn’t minded, had shoved her skirt up, had used his teeth to shred the front of her dress, and taken her against the door.

Tonight they’re going to see a play, are having drinks first. Her martini splashes over the rim, Caroline’s too vigorous stirring creating a tiny whirlpool. She groans, fumbling for a napkin, her eyes glued on Klaus across the room.

The bartender’s cute in a nerdy hipster kind of way, had blushed a little when Klaus had leaned in, grabbed his wrist and said something about his watch. The guy’s still a little flushed, leaning against the bar, mirroring Klaus’ pose. Their forearms are pressed together and he’s ignored the last two customers who tried to get service.

She’s tempted to go over there (maybe it would be a good deed? CuteNerd would regret getting fired because Klaus is distractingly hot) but she stays planted in her seat.

Caroline needs to claw back a little control because if she goes over there she might end up doing something that’ll get them kicked out.

It’s all adults in here but the things Caroline want to do probably violate health codes. Also, there’s always the risk someone would film it and having a sex tape on the internet is so not something Caroline’s into.

One just for her and Klaus? Sure, she’d be down.

Ugh. That train of thought so isn’t helping her control issue.

He glances over at her, brows furrowing and whatever he’d been saying trailing off. Caroline smiles but she knows it’s obviously fake because Klaus straightens, heading her way.

CuteNerd looks like someone’s kicked his puppy, poor thing.

Klaus is sliding into the booth before she can figure out what to say. He grabs the hand she’s spilled her drink on, lifting it to his mouth. His lips wrap around her index finger, teeth scraping the pad.

So. Not. Fair.

“Are you…”

His question is lost when she surges into him. She balances herself with a hand on his chest, letting it slide up and curve around the back of his neck. His mouth is open, waiting for her, . His hands urge her closer. Caroline doesn’t kiss him like she’s asking permission.

She kisses him like he’s already hers.

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

New Beginnings: Chapter 2

Hello, my lovelies! I’m so happy to see that a number of you are already really enjoying this story. I’m already having a lot of fun writing this story and reliving some of the shenanigans I got up to during my first year of Uni, so hopefully you’ll continue loving this story as more events unfold!

I wanted to get this chapter written and posted a bit sooner, but I decided that I should finish and post the last couple chapters of the story I was writing for my other fandom so I could put all of my focus on this one until I get into a bit more of the fun stuff for this multi-chapter fic. I can’t make any promises about how often I’ll be posting for this story, since I’m going to be very busy with work and moving over the next few weeks, but I’m gonna do the best I can to post AT LEAST once per week.

Anyways...I hope you like this chapter that’s mostly background/filler leading up to some real fun stuff in the next chapter! ;)

***

Rae stood in the open doorway to Izzy and Chloe’s bedroom and cleared her throat to signal her presence. The two girls stopped the conversation that they were in the middle of and looked over at Rae with friendly smiles, but she still felt guilty for intruding.

“Hey, uh, sorry if I interrupted the conversation you were having. I just wanted to let you both know that I’ve done all the unpacking that I can handle for tonight, so if you two were still willing to let me come shopping with you, I’m ready whenever you two are.”

“Oh, no problem, Rae! You weren’t interrupting anything,” Izzy said as she climbed down from her lofted bed using the wooden frame of the bed as a makeshift ladder, “we’re just about ready to go as well, just give me a moment to slip on my shoes!”

“So, uh...what were you two ladies talking about a moment ago?” Rae asked as she stood awkwardly in the doorway while the two girls in front of her got ready to go into the city to go shopping.

“We were just discussing our next door neighbors. They’re quite friendly, don’t you think?” Izzy asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah...those lads seem kinda cool, I suppose,” Rae added casually, since she hadn’t really gotten the chance to talk to any of the boys extensively earlier that afternoon.

“I agree. They are also pretty fit, right? It could not have just been me that thought so, right?” Chloe asked with a giggle as she looked at the mirror on her desk to give her makeup a last minute touch-up before the girls left.

“No, I agree. That boy, Chop...He was pretty cute and he’s really funny as well,” Izzy replied shyly.

“I’m more partial toward the boy in the glasses, Archie. Something about that ‘nerdy yet cute’ look he has going on is very charming and I really like it. What about you, Rae? Which of our neighbors caught your eye?” Chloe asked with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

“Oh, I—uh...I don’t know. They were all pretty nice. Archie seemed really friendly though, so I look forward to getting to know him a bit better, maybe.”

“I see...well, in that case, you can have Archie all to yourself. I’ll take his quiet and broody mate that didn’t say much but was able to help us loft my bed. I don’t recall his name though…”

“Finn...uh, his name was Finn,” Rae recalled almost immediately, much to her surprise given her limited interactions with him.

“Ah, perfect. So it’s settled, I’ll call dibs on Finn,” Chloe said as she grabbed her purse off of her desk and swung it over her shoulder, “now...who wants to go shopping?”

***

Chloe had driven Izzy and Rae into the city to go shopping and the trio were able to find the last few things each of them needed in addition to a few odds and ends that Izzy had assured the girls would make the dorm feel “just like home”.

“Just like home”...there’s no toddler making noises in the wee hours of the morning and mum and Karim aren’t trying to sneak secret snog sessions in the kitchen when they think that no one will notice, so I’d say it can’t really get much further from feeling like MY home.

Despite the giggles and eye rolls at Izzy’s insistence that they needed a minimum of five more strings of fairy lights to accomplish the aesthetic she had gotten inspiration for online, Rae and Chloe agreed without further persuasion, allowing Izzy to take the lead to help decorate their shared dorm room however she deemed fit.

When the three girls were thoroughly exhausted and could hardly stand to step foot into another shop, they wholeheartedly agreed to grab dinner from a nearby Thai restaurant together before they headed back to their University.

“So Rae, please don’t take this question the wrong way because I’m so glad that you’re gonna be sharing a dorm with us, I truly am,” Chloe began as she used her spoon to scoop a portion of the chicken curry they had ordered to share between them onto her own plate, “but I gotta ask...why did you choose to move to our dorm so close to move-in?”

Rae had been surprised by the sudden change in the subject of their conversation and nearly dropped the serving of Pad Thai she was putting on her plate once she heard Chloe’s question.

“Oh! I didn’t choose your dorm, technically. I did the ‘Random Roommate Selection’ and was placed with you ladies because I was determined to be a good match for you all,” Rae explained.

“That makes sense, I guess, but why were you only placed in our dorm about a week ago rather than a couple months back when Chloe, Maddie, and I were randomly matched as well and put into this dorm together? Did you sign up for University housing super late?” Izzy asked as she accepted the shared plate of Pad Thai from Chloe who had just finished serving herself some of the noodles as well.

“No, I signed up a few months back and was placed into a dorm with three other girls at first. We were all chatting online for a while since we all lived in different areas and couldn’t find time to meet up, but that group of roommates wasn’t a good match for me…” Rae trailed off as she took a bite of the curry on her plate, secretly hoping that the two girls would be willing to drop the subject.

“Why not?” Izzy asked in curiosity as she and Chloe began eating their food as well while waiting for Rae to elaborate further.

“Uh, the girls I was first rooming with were a bit mean to me...for a while I was content to just deal with it and hope for the best, but one of the girls kept trying to make it abundantly clear that she didn’t want me to be her roommate and that I wouldn’t fit in with the other girls. One day I checked my email and found out that she had submitted paperwork on my behalf for me to be placed into a new dorm, saying that I was unhappy with the roommates I’d been matched with,”

Rae paused briefly to take a bite of her food and to give Chloe and Izzy a chance to say something if they wanted to, but the two girls just looked at Rae with rapt attention as they waited for her to continue with the story.

“Eventually, administration in the housing department agreed to rematch me with other roommates, but it took a while to find a dorm with a vacant bed space. The morning Izzy first reached out to me to welcome me to our shared dorm with the first I had heard about it and I had to double-check that everything there had been worked out at the housing office. But I’m here now!”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry that those other girls treated you like that, Rae!” Izzy said as she reached out to place a comforting hand on Rae’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I can’t believe that bitch would make you feel so unwelcome and then go behind your back to have you moved to a new dorm!” Chloe scoffed.

“That’s so mean! I’m so glad you’re with us now instead. I called Chloe and Maddie so excitedly when I first saw that we had a new roommate placed into our dorm,” Izzy added with a giggle as she took a bite of her food.

“She really did,” Chloe confirmed with a smile, “and it’s definitely the other girl’s loss because you babe, are bloody fantastic!”

The three girls continued making small talk and telling each other about their families, what they were going to school for, favorite hobbies and pastimes, and any other random topic of conversation that came to mind as they devoured their three shared entrees and even chose to order scoops of the coconut and green tea ice cream that this restaurant was rightfully famous for.

***

With the boot of Chloe’s car full of apartment decor and bags from the various shops they had gone to and their bellies stuffed full of delicious food, the three girls piled back into Chloe’s car as they began the drive back to their dorm.

“Are you two ladies planning to join any clubs or organizations on campus?” Izzy asked with her body angled sideways from the passenger seat of the car so she could talk to Chloe while she drove as well as Rae who was seated in the backseat.

“I’ve thought about it. From what I’ve heard, clubs and organizations are great for incoming students who want to meet new people and make lots of friends,” Chloe began, “plus it always seems like all the girls in movies that join sororities and clubs have so much fun at Uni!”

“Do you really think so? You and I must watch very different movies because all I ever see about girls at Uni that join sororities have all sorts of drama, wild parties, and sometimes get murdered,” Rae replied with a laugh.

“So I guess that’s a ‘no’ to my question, huh Rae?” Izzy asked with a chuckle.

“I guess that also means that parties and stuff aren’t really your scene, huh?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, perhaps not. I’m not completely against it, but I just never really partied prior to Uni and I don’t imagine that changing too much, you know. Do you ladies party and stuff a lot?”

“Not too much. I was really involved in the theatre and dance department at my school, so we’d get together and party sometimes but it was a very close-knit group and it felt more like a family than just a hundred random students getting drunk together,” Izzy explained.

“I guess you could say that I was pretty popular at my old school. I was on a few different sports teams and I was pretty involved in Student Government, so I had a lot of connections with a lot of people. I enjoy meeting new people and having fun, but I would never force you to come with me if you didn’t wanna or make you drink or do drugs or anything like that if you don’t want to, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Chloe said, glancing at Rae in the back seat to be sure that Rae knew that she meant what she was saying.

“I wasn’t worried about that, I was mostly just curious, but thanks for letting me know, Chloe!” Rae replied with a reassuring smile.

***

Chloe pulled into her assigned space in their dorm’s parking lot as the evening sun was beginning to set low in the sky and the three girls each took some of the bags and items from the boot of Chloe’s car so that they would not need to make more than one trip. The three girls scanned their student ID cards at the door to their dorm community that led to the courtyard leading back to their dorm, where they saw Chop, Finn, Archie, and a few other guys that they had not met earlier that day kicking a ball around in the grassy area that was in the center of their octagonal residential community.

Rae hesitated as she watched the guys playing footie while Chloe and Izzy kept walking towards their dorm, but as soon as she locked eyes with Finn—who was still very shirtless—and he shyly waved at her from across the distance between them, she turned away from the group of boys and walked hurriedly to catch up to her suitemates.

Once inside their dorm, each carrying as many boxes and bags from their recent shopping trip as they could fit in their arms, they parted ways to begin decorating their individual spaces and to organize all of the new things they had purchased.

“Oh! Are you ladies back from shopping already?” Maddie asked from her desk in the far corner of the room she shared with Rae where she was sitting and watching a movie on her laptop.

“Yeah! We did some shopping and then grabbed dinner together,” Rae said as she carefully placed the various bags she was carrying onto her desk so she could begin going through the bags if necessary, “I thought you were gonna be going out with some friends tonight.”

“Yeah, I still am, just a little bit later than I had initially planned on. The friends I was gonna meet with had a similar idea to you lot and wanted to get some shopping done before things got busy with welcome week events later this week.”

“Oh, if we had known you could have definitely come with us even if you didn’t have anything to buy just so we could all spend time together and bond a bit more.”

“Yeah, but oh well! We’ll have plenty of time to hang out over the next week or so. My friends should be back pretty soon too and then I’ll probably be out with them until late at night, I think.”

Maddie returned to watching the movie on her laptop while Rae emptied the various bags she had and began to decorate her side of the room, since she had done the brunt of the major unpacking before going shopping.

Despite being taller than most girls she knew, Rae still found herself struggling to hang up the various band and movie posters that’s she had chosen from her extensive collection to bring to Uni with her without standing on top of her lofted bed to give her the height boost she needed.

As Maddie had guessed, before long she received a call from one of the friends she was meeting up with and she bid Rae a good night before rushing out the door of their dorm.

“Oh wow, Rae! I really like what you’ve done with your side of the room,” Izzy said as she walked inside and pulled out Rae’s desk chair to take a seat.

“I love the colors you chose for your bedding, Rae!” Chloe exclaimed as she walked further into the room as well and leaned up again the narrow wall separating Rae and Maddie’s small closets along the far wall of the room, “I really think the lavender throw blanket we chose will match nicely with your navy blue and white polka dot bedding!”

“Thanks! I really like how well my room and decorations are coming along as well,” Rae said as she glanced over her shoulder at the walls on her side of the room that had been barren less than an hour ago but were now partially covered with posters of some of her favorite bands and musicians.

“I just wanted to come in here and say that I’m feeling pretty tired and Chloe and I were just gonna turn in for the night.”

“Yeah, I got up really early today to drive here for move-in and I’ll probably be going to bed soon too, so I completely understand,” Rae said, suppressing a yawn as if it had been brought on by the mere mention of how tired she felt.

“Good night, Rae!” Chloe said as she leaned forward to give Rae a hug before turning to walk out of the bedroom.

“I’m so excited to be living with you, Rae! Sweet dreams and I��ll see you tomorrow morning!” Izzy said as she gave Rae a hug as well and walked out of Rae’s room with a quick wave.

Rae closed the door to her room and found the box where all of her pajamas and comfortable clothing that had not been organized were packed still and pulled out a change of clothes. Once she had changed, she opened the door to her room just a crack—in case Maddie got home once Rae was asleep so she would know that it was alright for her to walk inside—before climbing clumsily onto her tall, lofted bed and climbing under the covers.

The standard-issue dormitory mattress was firm yet too lumpy in all the wrong places and every time Rae shifted on the bed to adjust, the plastic-y crinkle of the mattress cover made it impossible to do so quietly. Try as she might to make her dorm bed as comfortable as she could, it was only now as she lay in bed that she began to regret not cherishing her hand-me-down pillow-top mattress at her mum’s house.

My back is going to be so stiff in the morning…

Rae groaned quietly as she tried to find the most comfortable position she could manage, but as soon as she slipped her earbuds into her ears and turned on one of her favorite music playlists, Rae’s exhaustion took over and she was able to fall into a deep, much-needed slumber despite the unfamiliar setting.

***

Why is it so fucking bright?

Rae rolled over in her bed, onto her stomach to sandwich her face between her pillows in a futile attempt to block out the early morning sunlight streaming through the exposed window beside her bed that she had inadvertently neglected to draw the blinds closed on the previous night.

Rae had almost dozed off again when she heard the loud conversation and laughter of a group of students walking on the sidewalk just outside her window.

Why the fuck does our dorm have to be on the ground floor and right outside the tennis courts?

When she accepted her fate and knew that there was no chance of her falling back to sleep, Rae decided that she might as well wake up now. As she sat upright in her bed, she noticed that Maddie was curled up on her side facing the wall nearest to her bed and snoring loudly as she slept.

Rae sat quietly on her bed, scrolling through some of the email notifications on her cell phone that she had been putting off opening as she tried to decide what she wanted to do now that she was awake.

When I was at home, if I wasn’t in class or working, I’d seldom be the first person awake.

Most mornings if I was free, mum loved sending me on errands or to do favors for her while she “watched the baby”.

Leila also loved to wake up her “big sissy Wae-Wae” at dawn because I was the only one who knew how to cook her breakfast just right and who could sing along to all the songs in her princess movies…

The last time I was awake this early with nothing I had to do was...well, too long ago for me to remember, clearly!

Rae carefully climbed down from her lofted bed, making sure not to make too much noise that would ending up waking up Maddie, and straightened out the blankets and pillows on her bed.

Well...since I’m the only one awake right now, I might as well take a shower and get ready before the others are awake and I’d have to wait my turn.

Rae walked over to the closet on her side of the bedroom and pulled out her clothes to wear today. She brought the pile of clothes into the bathroom, closing the bathroom door behind her, and set it on the counter beside the sink for her to put on after her shower.

Rae reached into the cupboard below the sink and pulled out the small purple basket containing her shampoo, conditioner, and any other shower essentials she would need and walked over to the shower to get the water started to heat up.

Hanging on the towel rack on the opposite wall was a large purple bath towel—a gift from Izzy, since she found it best if the girls had color-coded towels and shower baskets to keep their items organized and separated—and Rae hung her dressing gown on the hook next to it before getting undressed and stepping into the shower.

Finding the perfect water temperature took a bit of trial and error, but as soon as she found the perfect setting, she allowed the warm water cascading down her body to help soothe some of the built-up tension from the stress of yesterday.

In the span of one day, I went from living with my parents and baby sister to living in a different part of the country with three girls that are little more than strangers to me.

Rather than dwelling on all the things that have changed for her and could go wrong, Rae took her time showering and letting the water relax her, since she knew how busy the next few days were going to be as she continued trying to make the transition into University living.

When Rae turned off the water of the shower and used her towel to dry off, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped the dressing gown around her body, tying it snugly around her waist to keep it closed.

Rae walked towards the door of the bathroom and opened it slightly, just to make sure that her roommates had not woken up while she was in the shower, before closing the door again to continue getting ready.

Rae was in the middle of brushing her hair to evenly distribute the leave-in conditioner she used to make her long hair easier to manage when she could hear the faint sound of someone knocking on a door.

“Hello?” Rae asked as she opened the door of the bathroom to see if someone was waiting to use the toilet.

When she noticed that no one was outside the bathroom door but she could still hear knocking, only significantly louder now, Rae panicked slightly in realization that she was the only person awake in her dorm and there was somebody knocking on their front door.

Well shit…

Hopefully if I wait long enough they’ll think that no one is here and go away!

Rae waited in the hallway between the bathroom and the common room waiting for the knocking to stop, thankful for her dressing gown since she had been interrupted in the middle of getting dressed. When there was a few moments of silence, Rae assumed that the person at their front door had left and she breathed a sigh of relief before walking back into the bathroom.

As she grabbed the handle of the bathroom door to close it behind herself, the door creaked audibly and the knocking at their front door began again, slightly louder than it had been before.

Ugh, dammit…

Rae quickly glanced in the mirror of the bathroom to ensure that her dressing gown kept her sufficiently covered so she could answer the door and quickly get back to getting dressed.

“Hey, sorry it took so long for me to come to the door,” Rae said as she opened the front door before she had paid any attention to who was currently standing outside of the door.

“Good morning!” Archie said with a wide grin before glancing over his shoulder and motioning with his hand for someone a short distance away from him to come back over here.

“Hiya Archie! What brings you to our front door so early in the morning?” Rae stepped into the doorway and closed the door partially behind herself to avoid waking her suitemates by speaking too loudly as she talked to Archie.

“Well hello there, Rae! Such a pleasant surprise to see you this morning,” Chop said as he walked into view to stand beside Archie, “we didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”

Chop gestured towards where Rae stood at the door with wet hair and wearing only a dressing gown and wiggled his eyebrows, but Rae just scoffed and ignored his playful joking.

“My suitemates are all asleep still but I was the first one awake and I figured I might as well get ready before the other girls are awake. What can I do for you lads?”

“Oh, well, the lads and I were going to go get some breakfast from the student dining hall. I was just waiting for Chop and Finn to join me, but Finn suggested that we see if you and your suitemates wanted to join us as well,” Archie explained as Finn walked to stand on Archie’s opposite side outside of the door, running a hand through his messy hair in an attempt to tame his bedhead.

“You wanted me and my suitemates to join you for breakfast?” Rae asked as she turned to face Finn with an eyebrow quirked up in question.

“Yeah, ‘suppose so. It seemed like the neighborly thing to do, but ya don’t have to if ya don’t wanna,” Finn mumbled somewhat sleepily as he stretched and tried to contain a yawn.

“I really appreciate the offer, but the other girls are still asleep and I’m not really too hungry in the mornings, so sorry but I don’t think I’ll be joining you all for breakfast this time. I hope you guys enjoy your breakfast, though,” Rae added with a smile.

Rae saw Finn’s expression shift slightly and if she didn’t know better, she could almost swear that he seemed disappointed, but Archie spoke up quickly, preventing her from dwelling on that possibility for any longer.

“No need to apologize. If the other girls wake up soon or you change your mind, the invitation stands and we’d be happy to have you join us.”

“Yeah, or if not, maybe we all can hang out a bit later today,” Chop added hopefully.

“Maybe yeah,” Rae said before glancing down at her dressing gown after a moment of silence had passed, “so I’m gonna go finished getting dressed now, but you boys enjoy your breakfast, yeah?”

Rae chuckled at the blush that crept into Finn and Archie’s cheeks as they followed Rae’s gaze to her dressing gown and back up to her face before the three boys waved goodbye and Rae closed the front door again once they had walked a short distance away.

“Who was that?”

Rae whipped around with a hand clutched to her chest in surprise when she heard Izzy ask the question sleepily from the doorway of her bedroom as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“It was Archie and our neighbors from 112 that we met yesterday. They just invited us to breakfast with them, but I declined since I thought you were all still asleep. They said the invitation still stands if you want to join them though,” Rae explained once the initial surprise had passed.

“Oh, okay. Chloe was just waking up as well. Were you in the shower when they started knocking? I’m so sorry, Rae! I must have been sleeping pretty deeply if I didn’t even hear them knocking!”

“I had just gotten out of the shower. No need to apologize though, it wasn’t too big of a deal.”

“Alright, well, I’ll go ask Chloe if she wants to go to breakfast and see if Maddie is awake as well and you can go ahead and finish getting dressed now.”

Rae walked back into the bathroom and closed the door behind her before finally getting dressed and brushing through her hair to allow it to air dry.

As soon as Rae was exiting the bathroom, she saw Izzy walking towards the door.

“Perfect timing! The other girls are awake now too but we aren’t very hungry yet. We thought that maybe we could explore the campus a bit and maybe see if the gym on-campus is as impressive as everyone says it is. Would you like to join us as well?”

Rae noticed that Izzy had changed from her pink pajamas into a t-shirt and workout leggings and had pulled her hair back into a simple braid to keep it out of her face.

Well...I’m certainly not the type that looks like I’d belong in a gym, but if my roommates want to go as a group, would it be weird of me to decline?

“Uh, yeah, I’ll join you guys,” Rae replied a bit hesitantly.

“Perfect! The other girls should be just about ready to go now as well,” Izzy replied excitedly as she turned around and walked into her bedroom.

Rae walked into her bedroom to slip on her sneakers and she noticed Maddie seated on the carpet beside her closet tying the laces of her running shoes.

“Oh, good morning, Rae! Are you coming with us as well?”

“Yeah, I figured I might as well since you girls were coming too,”

“That makes sense. I’ve heard that the gym on campus is massive and really nice, so we’ll see if it meets my high expectations,” Maddie replied with a chuckle as she stood from the ground and pulled four water bottles for herself and her suitemates from the mini fridge beneath her lofted bed.

When all four girls were ready, they left their dorm together and walked the long way to the campus gym, making note of the various buildings they passed on the way there.

The three-story gym was indeed massive and all of the equipment they saw in the gym appeared to be brand new and very high quality, and all four girls were simultaneously impressed and intimidated.

“It looks like everyone had the same idea as us and wanted to come check out the gym today,” Maddie commented as the four girls continued walking around the gym to familiarize themselves with the different rooms, equipment, and machines that were already in use by other gym goers.

“Do you ladies want to actually work out or just walk around and see what there is?” Chloe asked before her attention was pulled away briefly by two incredibly muscular boys that passed by them towards the staircase the girls were standing next to.

“I really don’t feel like working out this morning,” Izzy stated before chuckling slightly, “after the long walk to get to the gym, I’m actually feeling pretty worn out and now I’m just hungry.”

The girls chuckled but all agreed to go get something to eat rather than actually working out at the gym.

As they walked the short distance to the student dining hall a couple buildings over the girls continued chatting and obsessing over how many fit boys they saw during their short time exploring the gym.

“Hey, Rae, do you think the boys from next door are still at the dining hall?” Chloe asked as she held the door to the dining hall open for the other girls.

“I doubt it. It’s been nearly two hours since they stopped by to invite us to breakfast, so they probably finished a long time ago,” Rae replied as the girls stood in line to swipe their student ID cards and enter the dining hall.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Izzy whispered as she nudged Rae’s arm with her shoulder and nodded towards a group of boys sitting in a booth against the far wall of the dining hall.

“Oh, well I suppose…” Rae began, but she lost her train of thought as soon as her eyes met Finn’s from where he sat when he glanced up and noticed the girls entering the dining hall.

Those short moments that seemed to last an eternity came to a halt when Chop looked over to determine what Finn was looking at and he saw the girls as well and waved his arms broadly to beacon them closer.

“Rae! Izzy! Chloe! Girl that I don’t know the name of! It’s so good to see you ladies!” Chop called as soon as the four girls had walked into earshot of their table.

“Hello! I’m sorry that I didn’t get to meet you all yesterday, but I’m the fourth suitemate in dorm 113, Maddie. You must be Chop, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you from the other girls,” Maddie replied with a chuckle as she introduced herself to the boys sitting in the booth.

“What are you lads still doing here? Rae said you stopped by at half past eight to invite us to breakfast,” Chloe asked as she stood beside the booth where the boys were currently trying to scoot closer together to make space for the girls to join them.

“What do ya mean? We’re Uni guys now and this dining hall claims to be ‘all you care to eat’ so I’m gonna take the opportunity to eat all that I care to eat, since I’m paying the same price for the student meal plan anyways!”

Chloe slid into the booth in the space beside Finn and Izzy took a seat next to Chop while Maddie pulled up a chair from a neighboring table that was not using it and placed it at the end of the table. Rae looked over to see Archie smiling at her and inviting her to take the seat on the booth beside him, which she accepted with a smile.

“We technically haven’t been here the whole time,” Archie explained once everyone was settled in their seats, “Chop forgot his wallet and we had to walk all the way back to his dorm for him to go get it. And then we, uh, sort of—” Archie trailed off with an embarrassed chuckle.

“We got lost,” Finn finished Archie’s statement with a chuckle as he looked up at Rae across the table directly in front of him and gave her a poorly concealed crooked smile.

“It’s your fault! I warned you all that I have a terrible sense of direction and yet you lot still let me lead the way,” Archie added defensively, causing the whole table to break into laughter.

“Well, unlike you lads, the girls and I already found time to explore a few buildings around campus and visit the campus gym, so we decided that we earned a nice, filling breakfast!” Chloe teased as she, Izzy, and Maddie stood up from the table, “We’re gonna go grab some food and we’ll be right back. Do ya want me to grab you something, Rae, or do you wanna come with us too?”

“I’ll stay here, but if you can grab me a muffin or a scone or something like that, I’d appreciate it!”

The girls agreed and walked to the other side of the dining hall where all of the food was arranged while Rae and the three boys remained seated in the booth.

“I was secretly hoping that you would change your mind and join us for breakfast,” Chop admitted as he grabbed his glass of orange juice and took a drink, “all three of us were, honestly.”

“Yeah? Well I honestly didn’t think you all would still be here when we decided to eat here as well, but I guess I’m sort of glad that we were able to join you all as well. I felt bad for declining earlier this morning and I didn’t want you guys to take it personally.”

“No need to worry,” Archie replied with a smile, “we knew that it was really last minute and you ladies might not even be awake yet, but last night when we decided to have breakfast together in the morning Chop and Finn insisted that we at least invited you all.”

“And don’t take it personally if Finn seemed a bit curt earlier this morning,” Chop replied with a chuckle as he playfully elbowed his mate’s side, “he was adamant that we be good neighbors and invite you to breakfast last night, but when we were actually trying to leave for breakfast, he refused to get out of bed!”

“Yeah, I’m not really much of a mornin’ person,” Finn mumbled with a small chuckle.

“I’m normally not too friendly in the morning either, so I get it. Thanks again for wanting to invite me and the girls to eat with you. That was really nice of you guys to do,” Rae said as she looked across the table at Finn and gave him a small smile before turning to smile at Chop as well.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, girl! If we’re all gonna be living in the dorms for the year, we might as well get friendly and hang out from time to time like neighbors do, you know?” Chop added with a wide grin.

The three girls returned to the table and passed Rae an oversized muffin that she began nibbling on as the group continued chatting and joking around until the guys mentioned that they needed to be heading back to their dorm soon, since their other suitemates were trying and failing to set up the flat screen TV they had purchased earlier that morning while Finn and Chop went to eat breakfast with Archie.

“So, are you boys planning on going to the ‘Welcome Week’ block party for all the first year students tonight? Supposedly they hire a DJ and have lots of free food and games and fun things to do and it lets all the incoming students mingle a bit. It’s supposed to be a lot of fun,” Chloe explained as she angled her body slightly to better face Chop and Finn where they were seated in the booth.

“My older brothers all went to the Welcome Week Block party when they were first starting Uni here too, but they said that it wasn’t as much fun as they hoped it would be, so I don’t know that I wanna go,” Chop explained.

“Hmm, I see. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go either, but how about we make a little deal. If the girls and I end up going to the party tonight, you boys should come with us too. How does that sound?” Chloe asked as she rested her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek on her hand with her head cocked to the side as she waited for their reply.

“That sounds reasonable to me,” Archie replied with a shrug.

“Uh, yeah, alright, I guess,” Finn muttered with a nod.

“Alright, my dear, it looks like you have yourself a deal. Just swing by our dorm and let us know if you all are heading out to the block party and we’ll definitely join you ladies.” Chop replied with a wink and a cheeky smirk as he and the other boys stood from the table.

“Perfect! I look forward to seeing you boys around, if not at the block party later tonight, then maybe we can make our own plans to hang out soon, yeah?”

Chloe and the other girls said their goodbyes to the boys and waved as they left the dining hall before beginning to discuss their own plans for the rest of the day as they finished eating their breakfast.

@arathewallflower @likeashootingstarfades @eveerez @getawaytrain @pink-royaute @kneekeyta

If you wanna be added to the tags or if you asked to be tagged but I didn’t add you to the list, please lemme know and I’ll be sure to make sure you’re in my tags list for this fic! ^_^

A/N: So as I continue writing chapters for this story and brainstorming what events and details from my own experiences I want to incorporate, I’m realizing how many awkward experiences I had while living in the dorms. You’ll hear a lot more about some of my other awkward experiences (and some of my wild shenanigans because I was letting loose and getting a tiny bit crazy for the first time since I had all this new found freedom, but that’s a whole separate matter hahah) as this story progresses, but I just found it necessary to share that with you all.

Also, Rae’s little sister is 100% based on my niece that is almost 3 years old because she is adorable and when I think of young children that are a little annoying at times but their cuteness makes up for that and then some, my niece is the first one that comes to mind. I seriously adore her so much! ^_^

I think some of you have some theories about things that could be coming in future chapters and/or you are trying to figure out which characters are significant and why, WHICH I LOVE, so feel free to keep your theories coming…I won’t necessarily confirm or deny them, but it’s still cool to know what your thoughts are as you’re reading through the chapters!

(I’m really excited about the next chapter, so don’t hold me to this, but I’m gonna try to get that chapter written and posted ASAP which could be within the next couple days, possibly…just saying)

Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends! :)

[pyrewrites]

A/N: This one spawned out of a conversation I was having with a friend about how Chloe beyond a shadow of a doubt is the type of person to cry at commercials. Then I saw this ad , Chloe made an offhand comment after it was over and that grew into this very quickly.

Read it on Ao3

One Last Perfect Christmas

There were many things that had become Established Bella Facts™. The only thing more terrifying than being on the receiving end of an Aubrey Posen freak out was actually hearing what Lily said. Emily “not swearing” is one of the most entertainingly adorable things ever. Even the most random thing you can imagine Amy has probably already done it. The rest of the girls fully expect Jessica and Ashley to be the next Bellas to get married after Cynthia Rose, to each other(despite the fact they still haven't admitted they are dating yet). If Stacie hasn't flirted with you yet it's only because she hasn't met you yet. Talking to Beca before her morning coffee is justifiable grounds for homicide. And Chloe Beale is an amazing baker. To name a few.

That last one is exactly how Beca found herself camped out on the couch marathoning Hallmark Christmas movies. In addition to being an incredible baker, Chloe was also a master at blackmail. Certain things she would only bake at certain times of year, and her Christmas cookies were easily the most anticipated of the entire year.

The redhead had learned very early on that a specific brunette said she didn't enjoy various activities, but after a bit of a nudge she had fun in spite of herself. Chloe had also quickly figured out that baked goods worked on Bcea as well if not better than a Beale Pout. Especially if that activity was one that Beca had been publicly vocal about hating.

Chloe had put extra effort in this year. As it was their last Christmas together at Barden she had asked her mom to scan and email Grandma Beale's entire cookie cookbook. And she spent an entire weekend figuring out just which cookies to make for Beca this year. Chloe wanted to have one (hopefully not) last perfect holiday moment with Beca.

Unbeknownst to the redhead Beca had figured out her game years ago. She got a bit extra grumbly about doing things she knew Chloe was going to suggest days in advance because she knew Chloe would put in that much more effort to make it special just for her. It was something she really never had beyond her mom, after the divorce. It was nice feeling like she mattered to somebody, even if...well never mind. She was determined to enjoy this one last perfect Christmas with Chloe no matter what.

So Beca had been sitting on the couch, a plate of eggnog frosted sugar cookies on the coffee table in front of her, a giggly and occasional tearful redhead curled into her side, for the last 7 hours. Each movie she sat through was more predictable than the last. But she didn't mind because watching Chloe get excited during each near miss romantic moment only to burst into happy tears when they finally get together in the last 5 minutes always made Beca warm and fuzzy in a way she had never expected to feel.

The movie had gone to a commercial break just before the last major misunderstanding that could drive the couple apart for good (or 15 minutes until they find out they were being dumbasses). Beca used the chance to grab another cookie and chomp into it.

“Oh my god Chloe.” Beca moaned and closed her eyes. She missed Chloe blushing at the sounds she was making. “These are so good. Like you could do this for a living after graduation.”

“You're just saying that so I'll make you more cookies.” Chloe giggled.

“I plead the 5th.” Beca said in the most serious voice she could muster through a mouthful of cookie.

“Well flattery will get you everywhere, my dear.” Chloe winked.

Beca grabbed another cookie then settled back onto the couch. She zoned out as the commercials ran until Chloe lunged for the tissue box on the coffee table. After three and a half years around the redhead Beca knew the signs. Chloe was about to end up a blubbering mess because of some emotionally manipulative commercial that never had anything to do with what they were actually trying to sell. Beca tried not to comment because, much like the movies, watching Chloe get caught up in those moments tugged at Beca's heart. The redhead still teared up, resulting in a hug from Beca every single time, at the song that was used in that gum wrapper artwork ad from more than a year ago. But she still rolled her eyes.

This one started with a tree that had been struck by lightning or something and somebody's parents having carved their initials in it. As she expected Beca heard Chloe's breath catch and then she started sniffling, when the parents picked up a framed picture of themselves revealing their initials in the new dinning room table that had been made out of the tree. Beca had to admit it was a cute moment she hadn't seen coming. She put her arm around the redhead and pulled her close again. Chloe sighed happily as she wiped away a few tears and she rested her head on Beca's shoulder and cuddled up to her once more.

“Do you think our kids will ever be that sweet and thoughtful?” Chloe said absently, her choice of words getting lost as her mind reluctantly pictured Beca with some random guy years down the road. Or even her getting back together with Jesse. Despite the fact she knew she would never stop loving the tiny brunette that had her arms wrapped around her, Chloe had virtually given up hope that there was any chance they would ever be together someday. Even if it wasn't with her, Chloe still wanted Beca to be happy and loved by a family she deserved.

“I dunno. Hadn't given it much thought.” Beca shrugged, causing Chloe's head to bounce and the redhead giggled at the movement. Beca's heart skipped a beat at the sound and she didn't stop to consider the words that were coming out of her mouth. “But yeah, I don't see how they wouldn't be. I mean with your sweet, sappy, romantic heart and my creativity they'd probably have no choice in the matter.”

Beca heard Chloe gasp as she jolted upright.

"Shit! Chlo, I didn't mean-" Beca was cut off as she turned by lips crashing into hers. She didn't have time to think about it before she reacted and kissed back. She felt fingers tangle in her hair. Her own hands found Chloe's waist and she pulled the redhead closer.

Beca felt Chloe's tongue flick across her lips and she opened her mouth. They both moaned into each other at the contact. Beca continued to pull Chloe towards her until their bodies were flush against each other. When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other, panting for air Beca stared at her best friend without realizing she had pulled the redhead into straddling her lap.

"What was that?" Beca gasped.

"Something I've wanted to do for a very long time." Chloe smiled and bit her bottom lip. "Did you mean it?"

"What?" Beca blinked.

"Have you really thought about what our kids would be like silly?" Chloe booped Beca's nose.

"Not on purpose." Beca said sheepishly.

"And what does that mean?" Chloe smirked.

"It means I never even thought about the possibility that I could be attracted to girls before I met you. And when I finally started sorting that whole thing out I realized that there was no way in hell somebody like you could ever be into somebody like me. So I resigned myself to having a crush on my touchy feely, flirts with everyone almost as much as Stacie does, straight best friend until it went away." Beca was talking to her lap by the end.

"And when did you decide all of this?" Chloe raised an eyebrow as she pulled Beca back up to look at her.

"Freshman year." Beca mumbled.

"And you dated Jesse..." Chloe trailed off as she felt tears starting well up.

"Because I thought maybe it would help me take my mind off the fact I was falling in love with my best friend and there was no possible way she could ever see me like that." Beca sighed. “That's why it fell apart in just a few months. I never loved him like that.”

Chloe tried as hard as she could not to laugh because she knew Beca would take it the wrong way after such a person admission. But as soon as the first snicker escaped she failed. Despite the happy tears that had started rolling down her face she couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"What the hell is so funny?" Beca grumbled.

"You just described almost exactly what I have been thinking about you for the last 4 years." Chloe giggled as she wiped away the tears.

"So you're saying..." Beca left the statement hanging and a small hopeful smile started to spread across her lips as she reached up and caught one last stray tear on Chloe's cheek.

"Yes. I love you too."

[quicksilversquared]

HTFAM Outtakes: Chloe and the Awful, Horrible, Very Terrible Prank

(AO3) (FF.net)

Chloe Bourgeois was planning on having a perfectly lovely day. Her father had bought her a pass to a few hours in the spa in the morning, and then she had been given permission to go shopping afterwards, since her wardrobe was dreadfully out of style and needed replacing (she couldn't be seen wearing last year's styles, obviously, and there were some lovely new things out from some of her favorite designers). She had the whole rest of the day free to do whatever she wanted after that.

But she wasn't going to worry about that now, Chloe decided as she relaxed into the massage table. She could wait until later to decide what she was going to do with the rest of her day. Maybe there would be some famous people staying at the Grand Paris and she could hang out with them, or maybe she would simply have a day all for herself and watch her favorite movies all afternoon while snacking on gourmet chocolates. Either would be quite fun.

Once her massage was over, Chloe headed straight for her favorite boutiques for a bit of shopping . She had to endure a few minutes of dealing with rude shopkeeper's assistants before the designers themselves came running out to wait on her personally. It didn't take long for her to pick out a few things and commission a few more, and then Chloe was headed on her way. It was the perfect day.

Granted, there was one tiny problem. Her phone screen had gotten broken to bits the day before during a small tantrum about not getting the newest model of her phone as soon as it came out, so she had to spend the day without it while her dad ordered the phone she wanted and got it delivered right away. That meant that she couldn't text Sabrina or post pictures of herself at the spa or shopping at the mall so all of her followers could see what she was up to, but she had found that she really wasn't that bothered by it. It was nice to not be constantly interrupted with texts from Sabrina all day long, and she found that she could enjoy her massage much better when she wasn't checking her phone or trying to twist herself into getting a good angle for a selfie.

After popping into a jewelry story for a quick look-around (even if her father had forbidden jewelry shopping for the next few months after she ran up a bill that was a little too high his tastes, that didn't mean that Chloe couldn't look for pieces that other people could give to her as presents!), Chloe went out for lunch at a high-end new restaurant that had been getting absolutely amazing reviews online, and then spent the afternoon lounging in her room, giggling with some actresses that were staying at the Grand Paris. She borrowed her butler Jean-Pierre's phone to take some selfies with them so she could show the photos off online later, and then only once they had left did she flounce over to her father's office.

"Darling, your new phone came in!" her father said cheerfully, waving at where his secretary was hunched over a phone. "Britta is just getting it all set up for you now and getting your information from your old phone put into the new one. And did you know that there's all sorts of phone covers you can choose from that would help protect your new phone? I ordered several, and you can pick which one you like best."

"Thank you, daddykins!" Chloe squealed happily. She dug through the covers- clearly the secretary had helped pick the covers out, because her father's taste was not this good- and picked out the best one. Britta slid it on the new phone, and then handed the device over to Chloe.

Armed with her new phone, Chloe trotted happily back off to the Grand Paris for dinner. She had about a million messages from Sabrina, for some reason, but those could wait. After all, Chloe needed to text her Adrikins first. She had remembered on the way over to her father's office that she needed to email him, since he was now all alone in London without her to talk to all the time and he was doubtless miserable without it. She knew that he would want to tell her all about the move, and maybe he would even invite her over to visit.

(Why he had decided to go to London, she didn't know. He hadn't even asked her what she thought about it! It was really rather rude of him not to ask his best friend (and future wife) what she thought about him going over there for school, even though he already had a perfectly good degree and could be putting it to use earning money for their wedding.)

Chloe spent all of dinner putting together a lovely email on her computer, even attaching a whole bunch of photos of herself that she had taken with her new phone, because obviously Adrien would need pictures to decorate his new apartment and what better photos to use than ones of her? She had everything saved and ready to send (and a couple extra photos of herself attached, just for good measure) when Jean-Marc stuck his head in her door.

"Miss? Your friend Sabrina called the hotel in quite a state. She said that you haven't responded to any of her texts. I reminded her that your phone had been broken last night and you only just got a replacement, but she still seemed rather agitated."

"I'll take care of it, Jean-Paul," Chloe said loftily, waving a hand in his direction. Whatever Sabrina was upset about could no doubt wait until after she emailed Adrien. "Did she say anything else?"

Her butler only shrugged. "She said something about Facebook, but I couldn't quite make out what it was that she was saying."

Something about Facebook? Perhaps Adrien had posted a particularly handsome photo of himself and Sabrina, being the caring friend she was, had wanted to make sure that Chloe saw it. Chloe would have to check it out. "Okay. That's all?"

"That is all, madam." Jean-Luc made a short little bow and then backed out of the room, closing the door behind himself. Chloe turned back to her computer and opened a new tab so she could check her Facebook. She hummed happily to herself as the page loaded, imagining what unintentionally handsome pose Adrien would be in in his newest photo. Maybe he would even be wearing yellow! He was always so handsome in yellow, especially because then they matched.

And then the pictures loaded on her screen, and Chloe screamed. Because while yes, Adrien had posted new photos online, and yes he looked very handsome in them, the photos were of him at his wedding.

Adrien. At. His. Wedding. And he wasn't marrying her, like he was supposed to, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

Was he insane? Was he being blackmailed or something into getting married to that girl? Was she promising him free pastries or something? It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.

Chloe was practically hyperventilating as she scrolled through all of the photos. She was living a nightmare now, she really was. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to throw a tantrum.

It just. wasn't. fair.

Chloe sniffled rather pathetically as she munched on another chocolate in her room. Adrien had posted a video of his wedding online earlier, and it had taken everything she had to not throw her phone through her window and scream in denial.

(Her father had taken the computer away the previous night so that she wouldn't post any nasty comments on Adrien or Marinette's photos. It was a rather useless move; she would rather text Adrien directly to figure out what was going on but he wasn't responding, and Marinette had long since blocked Chloe on Facebook. She would have texted Marinette some rather nasty things, but she had lost her former classmate's number long ago.)

So now she was drowning her sorrows in chocolate, her favorite movies, and the occasional glass of wine. Jean-Michel refused to give her the whole bottle at once. Apparently it wouldn't be ladylike or seemly for her to drink that much at once.

Apparently no one told Adrien that it was unseemly to elope with Marinette Dupain-Cheng the second he got to London.

A knock on the door stopped Chloe from downing another chocolate (she was going to have to go to the gym now! That was just one more thing Adrien was going to have to answer for). She put the chocolate down and sat up. Perhaps it was Jean-Pascal coming with another small glass of wine. "Yes?"

Jean-Henri stuck his head in. "Mademoiselle, your friend Sabrina is here to see you. She says she has news-"

"I don't care! My Adrikins is married and nothing will ever be okay again!"

"But he's not, Chloe!" Sabrina burst out, pushing past Jean-Claude and dashing into the room. "Have you checked Facebook recently, Chloe?"

"Yes, and there was a video! That Marinette Dupain-Cheng must have gotten them to take it to rub it in my face-"

"It's fake! It was a prank!" Sabrina waved her phone in front of Chloe's face. "He didn't get married for real!"

Chloe gaped at her for a second, then reached out and grabbed Sabrina's phone, staring at the screen. Adrien's Facebook was pulled up and Sabrina had zoomed in on the newest post. It was a picture of a bunch of random people plus the wedding party and Adrien and Marinette. Under it was a caption.

'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though! :D'.

Chloe gaped, then smiled, then scowled.

Oooh, Adrien was in for the scolding of a lifetime next time she saw him. She was going to have to go to the gym now to work off all of the chocolates and wine she had eaten because she was distressed by his stupid prank, and Chloe hated the gym. He would have to really grovel if he wanted to get back into her good graces, or maybe buy her one of the necklaces that she had been eying the previous day. Either that, or he would have to take her on a date.

Yes, that would be best, Chloe decided after a moment of thought. A date with Adrien where she could remind him who he was supposed to be with. She could drop hints about getting a necklace as a Christmas present while they were out together so he would know what to buy for her, since his father hadn't put any stupid limits on his spending. She would make him promise not to pull any stupid stunts like that in the future, too.

After all, her figure simply wouldn't be able to handle the stress again.

[imagines-dreams]

Progress - Connor Murphy Imagine

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of depression, self doubt for both read and Connor

Summary: Connor and you had been dating for a few months and best friend for longer, but as his depression grows worse, what are you to do? How can you help him without putting your well-being on the line?

Word Count: 2080

Notes: I do not have depression, so this portrayal may not be accurate. If you can help me improve this, I would to get some advice!

Your skin prickled, and no matter how much you hugged yourself and rubbed your arms, the prickling guilt didn’t go away. Then again, you deserved the guilt, didn’t you?

A day before, Connor had one of his episodes, and he almost hurt you. Almost. Almost. His hand was so close. His eyes were animalistic. You whimpered as you tried to pull that image from your mind. It scared you. That side of Connor, your boyfriend, your best friend, scared you. When he had realized what he almost did, he got even angrier at everything. He kept on shouting for you to get out.

So you did.

And once you did, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Shouldn’t you be helping him? Shouldn’t you have stayed? Isn’t that what everyone does in the movies? Did you not care?

You shook your head. No, of course, you cared. You just… You had to take care of yourself, too.

But… what about Connor? He was hurting and it pained you. How were you supposed to help him when helping him may hurt you? How were you supposed to let him heal if him being hurt in the first place hurt you? You pressed your books against your chest.

Connor didn’t come to school. You knew that. He also hadn’t answered your texts or calls.

You texted him again, and your wall of texts didn’t seem to do much. He was ignoring you. Rightfully so, maybe. You were the one that left.

You rubbed your arm. That damn prickling wasn’t going away anytime soon.

You feigned sickness, ditched class, and headed to the Murphy household. You had texted Connor that you were coming over, and he didn’t reply.

You took a deep breath before using the emergency key to get in. Everyone should be gone, the parents at work and Zoe at school. So it should only be Connor. “Hello?” you called. There was no reply.

Your heart dropped to the ground and sprinted to Connor’s room. You threw open the door. You saw the lump on the bed and reached out for the blankets.

You sighed. He was sleeping.

You smiled softly and brushed his hair back.

His room was messier than before. There was ripped paper from notebooks and broken pencils and random clothes strewn about the room. You bowed your head. Connor needed help, and you didn’t think you could help him.

You checked your email. You had recently gotten a job, so you were going to get some money soon. You just needed one call to put your plan in motion.

You smiled at Connor. At least, he was sleeping. You dropped your backpack and climbed onto the bed. You took a deep breath and as quietly and slowly as you could, you settled next to Connor and pulled up the covers. You needed some rest. It would help you think about how to help him.

When Connor woke up, he squinted against the light flooding his bedroom, but he couldn’t get up to close the blinds. Something was holding him down. Just as he touched the thing preventing him from letting the darkness flood the room, he paused. He turned around and immediately turned away.

You. His girlfriend. The girl he loved so dearly, and yet had almost… hurt. He told you to leave. He pressed his palm against his forehead. Was he dreaming? Was he having a nightmare? Was that real?

Connor looked around his room. Dirty as usual. Dirtier actually. Ripped pages and thrown trinkets. No, it was real. He had almost hurt the girl he loved. He told you to get out, and you did. Then, he lashed out.

He growled and pulled at his hair so forcefully, Connor nearly cried at the pain he brought onto himself. Why couldn’t he be better? Why couldn’t he just be a normal, happy, healthy person that you deserved? Why did he have to be so… broken?

You blinked a few times to wake yourself up. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you gasped. You wrapped your arms around Connor. “Hey, you’re ok. You’re ok.”

“I’m not!” he screamed. “I’m not ok. I almost hit you, (Y/n)!” He got out of bed and paced the length of his room. “I-I could’ve hurt you! You shouldn’t be here. You’re not safe. You’re not safe with me, s-so you need to go.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but you could hear it. You hated that you could hear it so easily. “I need you to go.”

Your heart cracked as tears slid down his face. You slowly got out of the bed and resisted the urge to hug him. You knew him well enough to know physical contact wouldn’t make any of that better.

“Connor,” you spoke slowly, not even sure how you were supposed to react, “I want to stay.” You lip trembled as tears of your own dripped down your chin. “You know that I love you, right?”

“What can you love?” Connor shook his head and pulled at his hair again.

You reached out to stop him. Sometimes, he’d pull out chunks of his own hair, and it was painful to watch him. But, you resisted. No physical contact. Not yet. “I can love you, Connor.” You stepped closer, and he didn’t move away. “I can love how much you know about me. I can love how you let me braid your hair when I’m stressed, even if it annoys you.” You took another step. “I can love how when left alone, you can read five hundred pages in a few hours, and how you use absolutely anything and everything as a bookmark.” You smiled as you were finally only inches away from him. “I can and do love you, Connor.”

Connor shook his head. “I don’t get it. I-I don’t understand how-”

“I do.” You shrugged. “I just do.”

Your phone rang and shattered the tension and sadness filling the room. You picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon. Is this Ms. (y/l/n)?”

“This is she.”

“Ah, yes, you might remember me. My name is Dr. Castrano. Your boyfriend, Mr. Murphy, practically interrogated me a few months ago, yes?”

You smiled. “Sorry about that. I was sick, and he was really worried.” Worried enough to not realize the person he was interrogating was a psychiatrist, not a primary care doctor.

“I understand.” You could hear the psychiatrist rearrange some papers. “I also understand that you have been asking about therapy.”

You nodded. Then, you silently cursed yourself because he couldn’t see you nodding. “Yes, yes. Is there any way-”

“Your boyfriend is a fine man. I’m willing to give him a discount.”

You held your breath. “How much?” You squealed. “Thank you! I’ll- thank you. Thank you so much.”

The psychiatrist laughed. “Yes, of course. It’s nothing for the two of you.”

“Have a good day!” You beamed and hung up. Connor still had his hands in his hair, and tears were still running down his cheeks.

You smiled. “Connor, I just got a call from Dr. Castrano.”

Connor blinked a few times as he tried to remember who that was. He snapped. “Uh, that was… The guy with thick glasses.”

“Yes.”

Connor laughed through his tears. “I interrogated him so much.”

You nodded with a smile. “Another reason why I love you, by the way.”

“Why the fuck did he call you?” Connor asked. Then his eyes widened. “Wait, are you sick-”

“No, no, Connor.” You reached out, and when he didn’t flinch, you gently held his hand and explained, “He’s willing to give you therapy.”

Connor shook his head. “My parents-”

“Won’t have to know.” You shrugged as heat filled your cheeks. “Um, I have the money. I’m paying for it.”

His face went stoic. His lips a thin line, and his eyes so glassy you weren’t sure if he was looking at you.

You shied away. “I know that you wanna handle all this by yourself, and you don’t want anyone to know, but I just thought that since both of us need it… I mean, you need therapy and you said it yourself, sometimes your depression can get out of whack, and I can’t be here all the time, no matter how much I want to.” You let go of his hand. “I mean, I want to, desperately, but I need to-”

Connor pulled you into a hug, a crushing embrace where you could feel all of his warmth and love and passion. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and cried. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you. So much.”

You gasped and hugged him back just as tightly. “Of course,” you breathed. You pulled him closer and reveled in the feeling of having him in your arms and of being in his. “Anything for you.”

“I love you,” he whispered. “I fucking love you.” He pulled away and kissed you quickly. “I love you so fucking much.”

You laughed. He was back. Your Connor was happy again.

Of course, the road was hard. Therapy did help Connor, and he was never close to hurting you again. He still had his bad days. Days where he shut you out, shouted at you, or lied to you to get you to leave.

And, yeah, sometimes you suffered as a result, and you had to shut him out.

But, in the end, the two of you always found ways to be better.

One day, after graduation, Dr. Castrano asked to talk to both of you. After a year of therapy and talking, Dr. Castrano became a mentor for both of you, offering all the help that he could provide. You and Connor, however, had a bad feeling.

“He’s going to drop me as a patient,” Connor whispered.

You shook your head and leaned your head on his arm. “If he does, I’ll find you a new therapist.”

“We couldn’t afford this at full price, (Y/n).” He gulped. “And this is cheap.”

The nurse called for you.

You squeezed Connor’s hand before entering the office.

Dr. Castrano smiled at the two of you. “Ah, the lovely couple. Have a seat.”

Connor plainly said, “If you’re going to drop me as a patient just say it.” The anger and confusion and worry manifested itself in his dark eyes, dark tone, and even the grip he had on your hand.

Dr. Castrano blinked. “Mr. Murphy, a friend of mine lives near where you two are going to live. I contacted her, and she would happily provide you with the sessions you got from me at the same price.” The man smiled. “So, yes, I’m dropping you as a patient, but you will continue to get the therapy you need.”

Connor held a hand up to his mouth to hide his smile, but his crinkled eyes gave it away.

You squealed, jumped up and down, and shook Connor’s arm. “Connor!”

He broke out of his trance and wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground as he laughed so childishly. He giggled and shook the psychiatrist’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you!”

Years later, Zoe and you were having breakfast. It was the first time in years that you’ve seen her. Even though she was the sister of your fiance, you never talked to her in high school or college. “You’re telling me you got Connor therapy during junior year?” she clarified.

You nodded and laughed. “You know your parents wouldn’t do anything.”

“I mean, of course, but damn.” She leaned back and sipped her coffee. “I didn’t take you as someone so assertive.”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t. I guess, I just loved him so much. I needed to do it.”

“Aw, you love him,” she teased.

You held up your hand. “We’re engaged, Zoe.”

“I know. It’s just cute.” She tilted her head. “How are you two doing? I hear a bit from Connor, but not nearly enough.”

You shrugged. “Life’s been nice. Really, it has! Connor and I, life together.” You smiled. “It’s everything.” You beamed when you saw Connor. “Hey!” You waved him over.

Connor kissed you quickly and hugged his sister. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has,” Zoe said with a smile. “But, I see the two of you are doing fine.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Yeah. Doing just fine.” He kissed your head, and you sighed. Perfect.

[steveramsdale]

Just Another Blog 10.3

Good morning, my dear blog-reading friend.

How much better is that first sentence than last week’s opening gambit. The errors last week were failure to proofread. Mairi mentioned that there were some incomplete sentences. I still don’t know because I did not go back to check. Sorry. I have mentioned, in the past, that I edit notes made during the week. In the highly unlikely event that something noteworthy happens, I type a little note. Last Saturday morning, I must have missed some fragments. I’ll try better this week.

I also wonder if this blog could chart my decent into madness. In years to come, historians will analyse the things I wrote and show where it all went wrong

I got in to a FB debate this week. There was a period when I did this a lot! This maybe linked to the previous statement, as you will see if you make it much further into the blog. This was about the suggestion that it might be possible to use disinfectant intravenously. Minds were not changed. Yes, amazingly, it is still not possible to reason and present evidence and have someone say: ‘Oh yes, of course. It appears I was mistaken. Thank you for showing me that.’ Amazing.

Last Saturday, before 7:30 ,I was back from my ‘trip to the shop’. We are not ‘allowed’ to exercise but I go the long way round, as you know. That morning I also explored around part of the canal that runs past Eko Park. It’s not exactly nature but there are trees and there’s grass and running water. It was a little bit like a walk in the countryside, one of my very favourite things.

On the return part of the circuit, I unnecessarily crossed the road to make the walk a little longer. I’ve always been a rebel. There was a tree, my notes said ‘The fallen tree’ but it wasn’t ‘fallen’ it was leaning. I imagine it was from the previous week’s treemagenddon, but I hadn’t noticed it. It was leaning against the block of flats, at about 45 degrees. It would have fallen unless the building had not been there.

I also saw that some buses are working again. Well, I saw one of the smaller buses with one passenger. I’m not really sure if some buses have continued to run as I have hardly been outside. But, public transport was stopped and I saw a bus that looked like it was operating. I’m just trying to give the details as I see them.

Also on Saturday, I had three cups of coffee. I know. Possibly reckless but seemingly without I’ll effects. As if Saturday wasn’t already action-packed enough, I went to sit outside. I heard some encouraging news, from my Russian teacher, about blocks being removed. In some parts of the city, large concrete blocks had been placed across roads to block them off. Where she lives, these had been removed. She was excited with the obvious implication that more movement would soon be allowed. This news, coupled with the strange feeling that I had been trapped inside for weeks and the lovely sunshine, made me go and just sit outside, in the sunshine, for about 10 minutes. I just sat on the wall by the road in front of my block, looking at the scene I can see from my window anyway. It was quite nice.

Sunday and Monday were much less action packed. I have no notes from those days.

From Tuesday morning I have this:

‘The noise in the night 2am Tuesday, tannoy for a long time.’ Let me translate. At around 2am, and for at least 10 minutes, one of the patrol cars (I suppose) was driving around making an announcement. I knew it couldn’t just be the familiar ‘stay inside’ announcement because....why? But I could not understand what was being said. I was able to sleep,again, as the vehicle moved away and the sound got quieter. In the morning, I went to the bathroom and then looked out of the window. Across the road there were lots of cars parked which had not been there the night before. One of them was even covered with a full car-cover. I wondered if that had been the message during the night- move your car. I had not moved my car. I threw on some clothes and I went out but there were still lots of cars parked down the side of my block. I relaxed a little. I sent an email to the school’s housing manager. He replied that, yes, the announcement had been wearing about high winds and advising drivers to move their cars if they were parked under trees. They’d noticed treemageddon too.

Also on Tuesday, there was a cat in my flat. I heard really loud meowing as I was working and went to see what was going on. There were two cats that I could hear, inside the building. I made little ‘come here cat’ noises. You know what I mean, and one came running up the stairs. It was very friendly and, of course, went straight through my open door and had a look around. It was a ginger cat with a collar on. It allowed me to pick it up (yes I thoroughly washed my hands after) and it sat on my settee. I assume they live in this building and had got out and wanted to get back in. In the back door of the block, there is a cat-sized hole, so they could have gone out of that was what they’d wanted. I’ve not seen or heard them again.

On Wednesday, I had bananas on toast. I had run out of jam and remembered that childhood treat. It was good. Sometime around then, or Thursday, news came that people can drive there own cars again. It’s restricted - between 7 and 10am and 5 and 8pm only for work, grocery shopping or emergencies. But it’s a sign of ‘opening’. Passenger taxis can also operate during these times for the same purposes. I plan to drive to the supermarket on Saturday (today) mainly to run the engine and use that new slip-road I reported a week or two ago.

It was also announced that parents can walk near their homes with their children for the purpose of exercise. Less positive news came about flights. Uzbekistan Airways announced that they are not going to operate before 30th June. They are selling tickets for July. My ticket, for the 26th June, is not with Uzbek, but it’s a little worrying. I have this plan of going home and isolating in our caravan on the drive for 7 or 14 days. Let’s see what happens.

On Friday morning, there were a lot more cars. It has been very quiet for weeks and it was much more like it was before. I’m near the centre, so it is busy, or was before they invented this virus.

As I mentioned above, I used to spend too much time (any is too much) getting into debates on Facebook. I had the short exchange referenced about. Then, at the end of the week, I dipped my toe in to two more. The result was one blocking and one unfriending. So, I back to posting kitten pictures and random thoughts. World, I am sorry.

However.......we have the new blog tradition of the sharing of my opinions at the end. You should stop reading now and I’ll see you next week.

It is worrying how symbols become ‘weaponised’ the flag, the poppy, the NHS, the prime minister, Captain (now Colonel) Tom. For as long as I can remember, I had been reluctant to wear a poppy but couldn’t articulate why. I am a pacifist but it wasn’t really that. But the last few weeks have allowed me to understand it.

In a democracy, we have to be able to hold the government and prime ministers accountable. We have to do this through facts and evidence and the results of their policies. The press has to be able to challenge, probe, present the facts (and dishonest or ‘vested interest’ outlets have to be exposed). One way this is resisted (and you can see this in the rise of fascism in the 20s and 30s) is to make reverence of the state and its symbols a sign of loyalty, genuine ‘love of country’. If you don’t- if you criticise the leader or the government or don’t fly the flag, etc, you’re a traitor. Clap for the NHS. Post a status about what the good Captain deserves, wear a poppy. It’s the same thing. Of course you can do it because you want to, that’s fine, that’s not the issue. It’s what behind it. I really dislike the current prime minister. I think he is serious unsuited to the job temperamentally. I despise the policies he has decided to promote because he thinks they serve the purpose of him being prime minister. I can’t say I despise the policies he believes in. I really wanted him to get well when he was ill. But the idea that he cannot be challenged or help to account is frightening. The use of wartime imagery is disturbing. Yes, we are battling an enemy, but it is not like WW2 in so many ways. The attempt to co-opt the blitz spirit so that the government can hide behind it is wrong and should be resisted.

That was an even longer rant that the previous ones. If you are still here, sorry. Feel free to disagree - and tell me why I’m wrong. I won’t unfriend you.

That will be it. I’m driving to the shops soon (and I have Russian homework to do). So, I’ll see you next time. Be safe.

[bellarkefanworkawards-blog]

Best Slow Burn

ARKADIA FLORAL & GARDEN by wanheda_two_heda @youleftme-clarke

Clarke has owned Arkadia Floral & Garden Supplies for 3 years when Bellamy Blake, her high school rival, comes back into town following his mother’s death and needs Clarke’s help to restore his mother’s garden to its former glory. But gardening isn’t Bellamy’s strong suite, and neither is coping with losing another parent. He might need a lot more help than he’s willing to admit, but luckily for him, his feisty blonde former rival is there to guide him through some of the most difficult months of his life.

ALL MY FRIENDS ARE HEATHENS by DracoTerrae

Chancellor Jaha put together a team of criminal delinquents, each with his or her own special Ability, in order to learn if his people stand a chance on the earth on which their ancestors once lived, a land that is filled with hostility—both from the environment and the people who inhabit it. Canon inspired with a twist. X-men, Suicide Squad, The 100 mix. Eventual relationships.

DON’T LOOK BACK, YOU’RE NOT GOING THAT WAY by andsowemeetagain

Viking Bellamy prepares for the journey of a lifetime. Clarke Griffin is the new, mysterious girl that wants to join him.

Best Fake Relationship

THINGS WE SHOULDN’T DO by Willaphyx @rebelprincebell​

“The history between the two of you is well known,” Marcus went on, talking over Clarke’s continued splutters. “And it hasn’t escaped the notice of certain news organizations–” “What, you mean fucking TMZ?” Clarke interjected.Marcus sighed. “It would be in the best interest of the show and I think both your careers if you were to be seen as a couple. ”Silence.“A dating couple,” Marcus added as if that hadn’t been clear. Bellamy and Clarke exploded simultaneously.“If we what?” Clarke demanded at the same time that Bellamy just started laughing. He slipped sideways, dangerously close to falling out of his chair. Clarke is at the bottom of a downward spiral and Bellamy is riding an all-time career high when they’re cast as the leads of Marcus Kane’s newest drama. The entertainment world expects a blowup of immense proportions between the two feuding actors but get a hard to explain romance instead. Or: a fake dating celebrities AU.

I GOT MY SWIM TRUNKS, AND MY FLIPPIE-FLOPPIES by Kacka @katchyalater​

Going on a cruise with her friends seems like the perfect last hurrah before Clarke moves across the country, and it seems even better when she finds out that her ex-nemesis, now-sort-of-friend is on the same cruise. And not just because he’s game to help her mess with her mother.

I DREAMED YOU A SIN by monroeslittle

“If I do this,” Blake said, “how are you imagining it’s going to work? I can’t just knock on his door, and say I want in again. It’s been eleven years. And even before I left, I never cared about the business. Do you have a plan? You say you want me to open the door for an agent. How? What’s that mean?” “You’re going to get in touch with your grandfather again at your wedding,” Clarke said. He stared. “I hope you don’t have a girlfriend, Mr. Blake.”

fake!married AU. Clarke’s in the FBI, Bellamy’s the grandson of a mobster, and they’ve got to work together.

Best Pining!Clarke

TREADING ON WATER, CAUSE I NEVER LEARNED TO SWIM by andsowemeetagain

"Shit" he said, "I think I'm in love with her." Clarke choked on the beer she'd just taken a sip of. "What?" In the five years since she's known him, she has never heard Bellamy Blake use the word 'love' when referring to someone other than his sister.

Or the one where Clarke and Bellamy are best friends and everything is right in the world until Bellamy falls in love with someone that isn't Clarke.

I (LOVE)D YOU by funfanfin

A relationship that only lasted five months and ended four years ago shouldn’t still be affecting her, but…it wasn’t just any relationship. It wasn’t just any breakup. It wasn’t just any ex. It was Bellamy.

AND THEN WE WERE CHASING COMETS by prosciutto @prosciuttoe

That same, elusive shrug. “It’s a secret, princess.” He says pointedly, snagging the book from her before throwing the truck into park, “But you’ll be the first to read it once it’s done, okay?” “Wow,” she says, nodding. “I’m honored.” A beat as he sizes her up, his brows furrowing together in exasperation before he says, weary, “You’re going to ask me what it’s about again, aren’t you?” “Bellamy,” she says obediently, grinning, “what’s your book about?” If you told Clarke Griffin that she would become best friends with the resident black sheep of Arkadia, she would have difficulty believing it, let alone the fact that he apparently wrote an entire book about her.

Or: Clarke and Bellamy through the years, as childhood best friends.

Best Royalty AU

KINGDOM COME by the.ktgrace

Her father, the king, was poisoned. She, heir to the throne, fled into hiding. Ten years later, a royal guard needs to bring her back to the throne to save his sister. Faraway kingdoms, arranged marriages, deception, brewing war… And that's only the beginning for this stubborn princess and her arrogant guard. A story of fantasy and adventure in the kingdom of Ark.

THE CHOICE by BeneathaMoonlessNight

Medieval Bellarke AU. When Lady Clarke Griffin begins her journey to the City, she couldn't imagine the choices that she'll have to make. A journey filled with excitement, danger, war, a Rebel King and the most difficult question of all- How does one choose between Duty and Love? This has slowly and unintentionally become a Game of Thrones AU

HOW TO SAVE A KINGDOM by Laughingsenselessly @wellsjahasghost

Clarke sputters an indignant laugh as he takes her elbow and steers her away from the doors. “You won’t let me out of the palace and you’re calling me a difficult person? You,” she fumes, “are insufferable.” Bellamy merely grins. “Now that’s no way to talk to your husband.” Clarke forces herself to stalk away before she can give into the urge to throw her glass of wine at him. She doesn’t know why she bothers, though. Somehow, none of their guests seem to notice the clear antagonism between the king and queen, or maybe they just don’t care. And why should they? The two of them are just husband and wife. They’re not actually expected to like each other.

AU. Clarke marries Bellamy for a political alliance.

Best Teacher!Bellamy

MUST BE LOVE (ON THE BRAIN) by Caramelle @mellamymake

Is she grateful for the distraction that is Finn Collins? Sort of. Does that make her want to punch his teeth in any less? Hard no. Or, the one where Clarke Griffin wishes the annoying boy who always sits next to her in class would shut up and let her listen to her professor. Her professor also happens to be really pretty. The two things are mutually exclusive.

AFRAID TO CALL THIS PLACE OUR OWN by HawthorneWhisperer @hawthornewhisperer

Clarke frowned at the notification on her ipad. “Why does your history teacher want to meet with me?” she asked, but Madi kept her eyes innocently on her homework. A little too innocently. “Mr. Blake’s a hardass,” Madi said with a shrug. “A hardass who wants a meeting with me barely a month into the school year?” Clarke asked. Madi shrugged again and Clarke narrowed her eyes and scanned the email. “He’s worried about your performance already. Have you even had any tests? What am I missing?” “He just doesn’t like me,” Madi replied and erased something on her worksheet.

YOUR TOUCH HAS GOT ME HAUNTED by troubledpancakes

Clarke’s twenty-first birthday was bound to be something she’d never be able to forget after Raven surprised her with a night at a strip club, with the highlight being a private lap dance by one of the most talented, and lusted after performers, Bell-Oh-My. However, seven years later, with a daughter just entering kindergarten, Clarke realized that night would be harder to forget than she originally thought when she introduced herself to her daughter’s handsome (and all-too-familiar) new teacher.

Best Roommates AU

CAN WE DO MORE THAN ORBIT? by fawna

If Bellamy knows one thing about the internet it’s that Clarke’s good at it. Bellamy? Not so much.

Or: where Bellamy finds Clarke's tumblr

KILL THEM WITH KINDNESS by Kacka @katchyalater

Clarke thought subletting Miller's room for the summer would be a perfect solution: convenient, affordable, and it comes furnished. Unfortunately, it also comes with his roommate, who for some reason, hates her.

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO LOVE PEOPLE WITHOUT THEM DYING by Kacka @katchyalater

“This is where it falls apart,” Clarke whispers. Her finger traces random patterns across Bellamy’s chest, his gently untangling the knots in her hair. The sun hasn’t yet risen but the sky outside has begun to lighten, those nebulous hours when night fades to morning and the world starts to think about waking up. Clarke greets them like an old friend. Most nights she wakes with a jolt-- sometimes from nightmare, other times from the stress of an unimaginably long to-do list-- and lets the slow ascent into day calm her racing mind.

Best Social Media AU

OR, YOU COULD ALWAYS GOOGLE IT by Prosciutto @prosciuttoe

“You know,” Bellamy muses, grin wide and a little conspiratorial, “you’re robbing our legions of fans here. They’re expecting a showdown and you’re being perfectly cordial towards me.” “Right,” she nods, pursing her lips to keep from smiling. “Well, it’s not too late. I could always pitch that glass of water down your shirt.” Someone really should have warned Clarke that the first step to becoming internet famous would involve acquiring a nemesis. 

(Or, Bellarke as rival YouTubers, basically.)

YOU'RE COOL ON THE INTERNET, AT LEAST by Prosciutto @prosciuttoe

Look, Clarke will not dwell on this. She will not get flustered just because a possibly cute guy on Facebook apparently shares her views on what constitutes a terrible person. Ten minutes later, her phone gives a short, irritated buzz; startling her enough that she jumps. Biting at the inside of her cheek, she allows herself a quick peek. Friend request from Bellamy Blake. Clarke has no idea how she manages to develop a crush on a guy who won’t stop fighting everyone on Facebook, but here they are.

(Or: Clarke meets Bellamy on Facebook. They hit it off.)

I THINK YOU'RE CUTE by caramelle @mellamymake

On second thought, Bellamy should probably have thought to check in with his sister before becoming Instagram buddies with her new roommate. In his defence, he hadn't been entirely sure what 'Follow' actually meant. He'd genuinely thought it was just like some kind of vague, subscription type thing, like when you hit 'Accept' on one of Groupon's numerous attempts to send you updates on the latest offers. It's only when Clarke Griffin actually follows him back that he realises the gravity of what he's done.

Or, the one where Bellamy and Clarke meet on Instagram.

Best Enemies/Friends to Lovers

ALL MY FRIENDS ARE HEATHENS by DracoTerrae @dracoterrae9099

Chancellor Jaha put together a team of criminal delinquents, each with his or her own special Ability, in order to learn if his people stand a chance on the earth on which their ancestors once lived, a land that is filled with hostility—both from the environment and the people who inhabit it. Canon inspired with a twist. X-men, Suicide Squad, The 100 mix. Eventual relationships.

EMERGENCY CONTACTS by wanheda_two_heda @youleftme-clarke

When Bellamy gets a call from Ark Memorial Hospital because he's the emergency contact for an unnamed girl in her early twenties, his only thought is Octavia. He can't imagine that someone might have just entered his phone number by mistake. But when he sees the blonde girl lying unconscious in a hospital bed with no other contacts until she wakes up, something tells him to stay. So he does.

Based on the prompt: au where person a accidentally puts the wrong number as their emergency contact and when they end up in hospital person b gets called (and comes anyway, despite not knowing person a)

IN MY DREAMS WE ARE ALWAYS TOGETHER by andsowemeetagain

100 delinquents got sent to Earth and battled for survival against the odds. They landed in Trikru territory but that is not where they stayed. After weeks of battle and war, the Sky People finally lost. They were sent to a land far away, where a group of Grounders unlike any they've met waited for them.

*This is a terrible summary...I don't know how to describe this story. It's a mix of canon and AU. But if you like arranged marriage and enemies->friends->lovers and friendship and love and fluff and angst, then this is the fic for you.

Best Past Relationship

I (LOVE)D YOU by funfanfin

A relationship that only lasted five months and ended four years ago shouldn’t still be affecting her, but…it wasn’t just any relationship. It wasn’t just any breakup. It wasn’t just any ex. It was Bellamy.

KNOWING ME, KNOWING YOU by caramelle @mellamymake

In hindsight, staying in the apartment he shares with his ex probably isn't the best idea Bellamy's ever had. Probably not his worst either, to be fair.

Or, the one where Bellamy and Clarke break up and, instead of moving out, somehow find themselves in a heated prank war.

I FEEL IT IN MY FINGERS by lightyears

It’s a short wait for the patient to arrive once Clarke gets herself organised. She stands out at the emergency entrance for all of three minutes before the ambulance comes to a stop in front of her, Jasper jumping out of the driver’s seat and rounding to the back to open the rear door. Clarke’s right behind him, watching as the patient is pulled out on a gurney, and getting ready to take action, just like she’s done countless times over the years. But instead of grabbing ahold of the stretcher railing to help wheel the patient inside, asking Monty what happened, what his initial evaluations found, she falters in her step, feels the air get knocked from her all at once. Because she recognises that boy, warm brown skin sprinkled with freckles, unruly inky curls and a jawline so sharp it could cut glass. She recognises him despite the ten years that have passed and the bruises and cuts scattered across the skin free from his clothes. She recognises him and it makes her world stop. “Bellamy,” Clarke breathes out.

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 23. Ireland

Not that long ago…

In a country not far far away…

Two travelers from the bustling Planet London heard tales of the nearby land of Eire, a wild, rugged, and beautiful world known to be home of the Last Jedi. …For almost two years though, the travelers had resisted the Eire’s gravity, generally opting for warmer planets with better food.

Then, with only a few months left in London, the neighboring planet’s pull became too strong. The travelers had no choice but to follow the Eire’s adventurous call.

After all the Game of Thrones references in the Croatia post, I have to reiterate that Chelsay and I have not planned our trips based on filming locations. …Proof of that should actually come from the fact that these trips were so late in our rotation. We’d held off for almost two years, but you can only resist Ireland’s charm for so long. For one of our final adventures, Chelsay and I set out on a four-day road trip through the wild landscapes of West Ireland, from Shannon on the Atlantic coast down to Cork on the country’s southern tip.

Our first stop of the journey was just a short drive from Shannon Airport: the Cliffs of Moher.

Before visiting, I was worried our recent weekend in Cornwall might steal some of Ireland’s “wow” factor. I thought they’d have similar landscapes, so maybe the Irish coastline would just feel like a repeat of a vacation we’d already taken.

That worry was immediately put to rest. Whereas Cornwall’s beach-y shoreline gently descends into the sea (e.g. St Ives or St Michael’s Mount), Ireland’s coast is a 45 degree field rising up 700 feet before an absolutely vertical drop down to the battering Atlantic Ocean. It looked like a chart of GBP value after Brexit.

Although the forecast read sun, the clear skies hadn’t quite arrived. I’m actually convinced the weather app works on a relative basis - that is, a “rainy day” in Texas and “sunny day” in Ireland are the same thing to the app. Regardless, the dark clouds and heavy winds added to the cliffside’s rugged mood.

Our next stop was just an hour further south: the Bridges of Ross, a land bridges spanning across a small sea cove. The drive would have been faster, but we hit some traffic.

The Bridges of Ross are known for their natural land bridge, but what Chelsay and I found more interesting was the jagged, rocky coastline. It’s probably similar to most of the Irish coast, but it really reminded me of Shapes Beach in Iceland: an alien shore marked by unique black rock formations, pink-hued tide pools, and bizarre species (star fish, strange anenomies, Chelsay, etc).

Also similar to Shapes Beach in Iceland, our next stop was a lighthouse located high atop a nearby cliffside. In Iceland, we referred to the mysterious lighthouse hidden in the fog as Shutter Island… The sun had come out in Ireland though, so Paradise Falls from Up felt like a more fitting reference.

We spent that evening in a town called Ballybunion, Though this town is home to just a few thousand people, it was noteworthy for a few reasons.

First, there was a gorgeous sunset.

Second, there is a seemingly random statue of Bill Clinton sitting in the middle of Ballybunnion. Was the town just a big fan of the former President? I took a closer look at the statue and realized it shows him about to tee off - we were later told that the town is home to his favorite golf course, which ranks among the Top 10 in the world. How we were told is actually a very authentic Irish experience.

It’s common knowledge that the Irish have three traditions: potatoes, singing in pubs, and the gift of gab. Chelsay and I experienced all three that evening. The potatoes point is a given: they’re served with every meal. I’ll get to point two about the singing later, but point three, the gift of gab, is how we learned about the Bill Clinton thing.

There is a stereotype that the Irish like to talk, and I have a theory on where this comes from. Lore would say that kissing the Blarney Stone gave the Irish this gift. Historians would say that this stereotype arose from generations of early Irish passing stories only through spoken word, rather than in writing. My theory is that the Irish “gift of gab” is a relative statement based on who was judging… the English! It makes perfect sense. Imagine a prim, proper, and private Brit: the same type that avoids small talk and eye contact on the tube. Imagine him crossing the small channel before stumbling into a society that, unlike his own, actually speaks to one another. Annoyed but in the most civil manner, the Brit tuts and sarcastically pronounces that the Irish “must have been given the gift of gab.” This is definitely what happened. I’ve solved it.

Anyway, our experience with this “gift” came when we were grabbing an Irish whisky and pint of Guinness from Ballybunnion’s pub: McMunn’s. As we were sitting there, an Irish couple pulled their chairs up and unsolicitedly started filling us in on the Bill Clinton thing. They were nice and seemed to be fun, but I could not understand a single word they were saying. I smiled and laughed when it felt appropriate, but had no idea what we were talking about… Chelsay (who speaks non-American) later shared that they were asking if I was deaf.

Through the couple, Chelsay learned that a legendary Irish singer, Mickey McConnell, lived in Ballybunnion and often stopped at the pub to play a few songs. His fame was launched by one song, Only Our Rivers Run Free, which became an anthem for the Northern Irish civil rights fight in the 1960s (a time simply known as “The Troubles” over here).

We were lucky that night because Mickey indeed came to play, and included his famous song on the set list. Again, I couldn’t understand a word as the bar sang along with him.

The next morning, we set out to drive around Dingle Peninsula, regarded as one of the prettiest and most dramatic regions in Ireland. We’d heard of two scenic drives: Connor Pass, which provided the best panoramic views of Dingle, and then Slea Head, which wraps around the peninsula’s Atlantic coastline.

We started with the Pass, which I nearly referred to as a mountain.  This really isn’t much of a mountain though: at 1,500 ft, it’s only about 1/3 the height of Mt. Si. That said, from the top of this tall-ish hill, we took in a pretty view of the green glen below.

We then descended through Connor Pass into Dingle Town (where Chelsay and I stopped at the famous Murphy’s Ice Cream), before heading into the Slea Head drive.

The views along the coastline were as advertised, but I have trouble taking in these landscapes from behind a windshield. I prefer taking in these dramatic views in the elements, but it’s difficult to decide where to pull off. You can’t just pull over every mile, and you also aren’t sure whether the most stunning views are just around the bend. A similar thing happened in Norway, where we hadn’t really researched at all prior to arrival. We just showed up, grabbed a car, and drove the fjords. Don’t get me wrong: the views along each of these drives are stunning, but I need a destination, whether that’s a hiking trail, viewing platform, etc.

I’d actually spent some time researching where to hike along the Dingle Peninsula but found that most treks were all-day commitments. It seemed the drive itself was the destination for most.

After a few hours on the road though, that Norway feeling started to creep in: where should we be pulling over? We also realized Chels had left her jacket at the last hotel (too many Guinnesses at McMunn’s), so we decided it was time to break for lunch.

We’d seen a path off the side of the road just a bit earlier, but in the split second we’re driving by, it’s tough to commit to a potentially long hike when you don’t know the destination. We’re only in Dingle for a day so we can’t afford an hour long trek without a payoff. As we ate, and taking advantage of recent changes to roaming laws in the EU, we pulled out Google Maps. Tracing the path’s route, we found it led to a point called “The Devil’s Horns”. Sold.

We parked just near the path’s entrance, which led across a barbed wire fence and through an open field. As we walked along the coastline, “The Horns” came into sight and our excitement levels jumped. We climbed over rough boulders to land’s end, across spine-y rocks and beside crashing waves. Now out of the car and hiking through the wind and fog and elements, we felt the Dingle drive had been validated.

I mentioned crashing waves because, by our standards, this looked like rough waters. Although the weather app labeled off-and-on sunshine as spectacular weather in Ireland, to Chelsay and me, these sea swells were worrying because of what we’d planned for the next day.

For Day 3 of the road trip, we’d reserved a trip out to Skellig Michael, a craggy island and home to a 1,200 year old Gaelic monastary, thousands of endangered puffins, and Luke Skywalker’s hideaway in The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi.

Given the crag’s fragile state, only a limited number of tour boats are able to make the trip each day. Tickets go on sale months in advance, and given its popularity after the Star Wars movies, they typically sell out in half an hour.

I happened to be looking for tickets in March, but didn’t see an option for on-island tours. I emailed the boat company directly and found that tickets were actually going on sale the next day! I cancelled all meetings and made sure we got those tickets… but having tickets won’t guarantee you’ll make it out to the island…

When we were standing out at The Devil’s Horns in Dingle, the obstacle was clear: the sea is rarely calm enough for boats to dock on the Skellig island. This was supposedly a peaceful day, and the swells still looked like the one from Interstellar. To give you a better idea of the odds: Boat companies only offer tickets from May to October, and even half of those days end up having to be canceled. I read that some LOCALS have tried to make the trip four or five times without success.

Well, despite blindly booking months in advance, we apparently picked the right day. The boat company emailed the night before to confirm our trip was going ahead.

We arrived at the port the next morning, and were a bit surprised to see a total of 12 boats heading out that day, holding 12 passengers each. With ~150 people on the island, the monastery drew quite the crowd, but I guess this town has to take advantage when the ocean permits. Regardless, we were stoked as we set out on the 50 minute ride to Skellig Michael.

Chels and I’s boat was the second to arrive, but we walked by most of the first group. We made it to the base of the monk’s walk, where 600 pre-historic steps led to a monastery on the island’s peak. A guide was waiting for us at the step’s base and she asked us to stop for a safety briefing. She continued past us to tell the other arrivals as well… Mischievous Mike (who I wrote about in the Vienna post) looked at Chelsay: “Should we go?” Five seconds later we were 20 steps up and out-of-sight from the large group we left behind. Much like La Mezquita outside Seville, we would be able to explore in peace. …once we made it to the top.

I won’t overdramatize the climb: as a New Zealander said to us in Dubrovnik, “Ya must be fit; ya aren’t even puffin’.” That said, it’s still incredible to think of these monks, isolated at literally the end of the world (as far as they knew), having to climb up and down 40 or 50 storeys. …I can’t even leave the couch when Chels and I need to restart the internet.

We passed the craggily green patch where Rey dramatically returned Luke Skywalker’s light saber, before continuing up to the monk’s settlement. Crouching through the especially tiny entrance way, we entered the small stone village.

It’s incredible that this monastery still stands after 1,000 years. Skellig Michael is a rough 50 minute ride from the mainland, and that’s in a modern engine-powered boat on a calm day. Imagine that trip in a paddle boat… in the 800s. Needless to say, tansporting a crane from the mainland was not an option. Instead, the monk’s used only what was already on the island (rocks), and a primative construction method (stacking rocks) to piece together beehive shaped shelters. The corbel method, as it’s known, is the proccess of dry-stacking (without any cement) flat stone to form a gradual arch, with the collective weight of the stones ensuring structural integrity. Without any bonding agent, you’d think the structure would be too lose to hold. Evidently it worked though. Despite being on an isolated island exposed to wind, rain, powerful sea storms, and Viking attacks, the beehives still stand.

Chelsay and I explored the settlement to ourselves before the rest of the group caught up. With the tiny village quickly filling, we descended the stairs for a picnic on a quieter perch. Our packed lunch wasn’t exactly private though, as we were joined by thousands of guests: puffins.

Puffins are now an endangered species, so seeing even one is rare. We had a chance in Iceland, but when we didn’t see any, I thought my puffin chances had past. It actually just turns out they were hanging on Skellig Michael though, because these orange-billed cuties were everywhere. I have no idea how they kept these birds out of the Star Wars filming: I’m imagining dozens of crew members frantically shoo-ing them away just off-camera.

We finished up lunch with our new friends before taking one last lap around the small island. Chelsay and I are very lucky to have seen so many incredible places over the past two years – during every trip, we take a minute to remember how fortunate we are to go on all of these adventures. So that’s why I hate myself for saying what I’m about to say, but there are only so many churches or coastlines or castles that you can visit before the excitement starts to fade. It’s the law of diminishing returns, but for travel. We’ve always found a way to avoid these diminishing returns and get the most out of our trips, but Skellig Michael stands apart. Its isolation, ruggedness, history, and fame all blended together to make one of the most unique and memorable experiences we’ve had while abroad. And the puffins were just an added bonus.

After Skellig Michael alone, Ireland had reached the “house money” stage: the point at which a trip has accomplished everything you’d hoped it could be. It’s not a break-even point, because we’ve always gotten more out of our trips than we put in. The “house money” stage is way beyond that. It’s the point where a trip has passed what you’d imagined as perfect. You’ve already ensured memories beyond any expectation, and no decision you make from there could change that. It’s like going to a casino and playing with the house’s money.

There’s a certain feeling that comes once a trip has reached house money stage. It’s a mix of elation and relief, mixed with a permanant smile. For some vacations, house money comes early in the trip (e.g. Neuschwanstein was the first place we stopped in Munich). For others, it might come later in the trip (e.g. Plitvice in Croatia). Either way, you could essentially hole up in the hotel for the remainder of the vacation and still be happy (e.g. Split, which was the place we went immediately after Plitvice).

So it was with this feeling that we completed the remaining 24 hours of our trip. After arriving back on the mainland, Chelsay and I drove the stunning Ring of Kerry, stopping in the charming Irish town of Kenmare for a house money celebratory dinner on our way to that night’s hotel.

I think I’ve only written about our hotels once before ( <3 Effi in Crete), but I have to remember our B&B in Schull. The bed wasn’t comfortable at all, but the view and the host more than made up for it. The owner is a former creative director from Frankfurt, so she had all of the artistic musings of someone in her profession mixed with the dry bluntness of a German. Before an early bedtime that evening, we learned about her lifetime of travels while enjoying a beautiful view of the nearby bay (I imagine this looks similar to many views in the Northeast).  

The next morning, our host had delicious eggs benedict and French toast ready for us (breakfast mention quota: met), but she also had a recommendation. We’d planned to visit Mizen Head, a coastal ridge we suspected might be similar to Loop Head a few days before. Instead, our host told us about a lesser-known point called Three Castle Head.

Although harder to find, Three Castle Head was certainly the better choice. After parking near a peninsula, Chelsay and I walked about 20 minutes up and down several hills. Three Castle Head hasn’t quite caught the tourist crowd yet, so signage wasn’t great. Just as we were starting to wonder whether we were heading the right direction, we reached the top of the highest hill. From our viewpoint, we could see the crumbling remains of the 800 year old Dunlough Castle, resting on the edges of an inter-peninsula lake.

Without saying a word, Chelsay and I set off to explore. Genuinely, we didn’t even look at each other before embarking. When we eventually met back up, we talked about how strange it was that we both just took off. Anyway, splitting up actually made this experience funnier. We ended up encircling the castle and lake in different directions, but sound traveled especially clearly across the open space. While I was taking pictures of the castle from one side, I heard “Ohmpf” from the other. I turned and, from about 100 yards away, I could just make out Chelsay picking herself up before hearing her yell, “I fell!”

Luckily the tumble hadn’t phased her too badly (I later saw her running across the hills from “bugs trying to get in my hair”).

After the bug situation, Chelsay was done with Ireland… Just kidding, we had to catch a flight. Driving back to Cork Airport, we reflected on the trip that was. For almost two years, Chelsay and I held off on an Irish adventure. Whether because it might be similar to Scotland or Cornwall, or because I just wasn’t excited about the sites, expectations weren’t that high relative to our other trips. …But Ireland is a place that defies expectations. From its implausibly steep cliffsides to its unearthly shores. From its ancient monastery defying time and its rugged setting, to the SUNBURN I GOT IN IRELAND, this adventure delivered much more than expected. To borrow a line from Obi-wan: this was the trip we were looking for.