#like buying a winter coat in July

[professorupdog]

let it be known that I am pro dress coded events and establishments

I like the idea that we all decided to play a little dress up game to go to a restaurant or to a wedding

and if someone’s not in the suggested dress code it’s not the end of the world but it’s like showing up to a costume party without a costume. there’s nothing wrong with it per se but everyone else here has agreed to contribute to a specific atmosphere and vibe and it’s kind of a bummer that you decided not to do that.

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 7: Home

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 6

cw: descriptions of grief, depression, and lack of eating

October 1986

“So,” Sarah says while unlocking the front door of her old trailer. “You can grab as much as you like, but I need you to understand that you can’t take all of it. There’s not that much space in your new placement, so be mindful of that.”

She says it like it’s routine, which is probably is. Julie is just another line on a long list of kids that this woman has had to deal with. It’s just another day of work for her. Where it’s just another day of heart wrenching grief for Julie.

The doorway to her home, old home she has to remind herself, looms in front of her. From what she can see, it remains untouched from when she left. The plates on the drying rack, her mom’s winter jacket on the coat rack. The old, busted pair of work boots her mom always swore by even if she had to glue the soles back on every few weeks.

“I know this is hard for you,” Sarah says sympathetically. “But it’s important for you to get the things you care the most about. It’ll make this whole process a little easier.”

Julie looks at her, with empty eyes. Begging her to see that none of this is making it any easier. Can’t she see the tear stains from last night, from this morning. The permanent bags from nights of restless sleep, images of her mom’s crash haunting her whenever she closes her eyes. The two-day old clothes and greasy hair. None of this is easy for her.

But she still steps through the threshold, back into the place she’s called home her entire life. Up until a few days ago when it was all stripped away. The air still smells like it always did, that scent that you don’t even notice because it’s been there the whole time. The smell of home.

The door to her room sits ajar, waiting for her return. She opens it to find everything as it was. Her posters on the wall, jewelry scattered across her dresser amongst the hair ties and old clips. On her desk lays her small mountain of journals, each filled to the brim. One, or even two, marking the years. Right next to a photo of her and her mom.

It was the day Julie turned eight. Her mom smiling from behind her as she holds the camera out in front of them. She had bought a new roll of film just for the occasion. Julie was smiling with a smudge of cupcake frosting on her face. So excited that her mom got her favorite, red velvet with the good cream cheese frosting, that she didn’t care that some got on her face.

They were happy, even though it was just the two of them. Her mom never let it show how much she struggled with it. It was only later that Julie started to pick up on it. When the latest boyfriend stole all the money out of the tip slash savings jar, leaving them high and dry. When Julie grew out of her clothes, or they were too ripped to repair, and her mom had to take an extra shift to cover buy new ones. She noticed.

She starts to fill a bag with her clothes. Opening her closet and dresser drawers, just shoving as much in as she could. The only ones left were too small, or just didn’t deem appealing to her anymore. Nothing seemed appealing to her anymore.

Moving on to the desk, she fills her backpack with her journals and school supplies she forgot about. Opening a drawer and finding the folder that her mom gave her all but two weeks ago. Right after she told Julie about her dad.

It hits her then, what she said with it. Her mom was receiving payments from him, monthly or something like that. Considering he was rich, she wondered how much it was. And more so, why it was never enough to calm her mother’s worries about the bills. It should have been, unless he was a cheapskate and a cheater. With all of that money, he’d be a bigger asshole than he already was before.

There’s one last bag that Julie can fill before she has to leave the rest behind. She fills it with smaller things. Some books she loves, her jewelry box. Some cassettes and her old Walkman. Carefully laying the picture of her and her mom overtop of it all before zipping it shut.

She brings the bags out to Sarah, who asks if she’s ready to go. Taking one last look to her old life, tears fill her eyes. What is going to come of this place, to the life that was lived here? What is going to happen to her?

Her eyes stop at the trunk next to where her mom stored the cot. She walks over to it and opens it up, revealing the neat piles of her mother’s clothing. Her cheap perfume that she wore hitting Julie when she does. All she does is sit there, looking at the clothes her mom had worn. A tear falling down her face as she carefully sorts through them.

There’s one piece that she’s looking for. Her mom’s old, beat-up hoodie that she’s had since high school. Holes sewn up with small flowers or patches. Each stitch done carefully, making it her own.

Julie finds it, bringing out of the trunk and slipping it on. The slight warmth of her mom’s comfort washing over her, bringing her the smallest amount of peace.

As she stands, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and grabbing the other two bags, she leaves. Sarah shutting the door to the only home she’s ever known, officially closing it off forever.

. . .

Present Day

Julie sits down at her lunch table, just about to bite into her sandwich when another lunch tray drops in front of hers. She looks up to find Dustin sitting down across from her, ruffling through his bag to find something.

“Um, hi,” she says, annoyed.

“Hi,” he responds, making a small triumphant sound when he finds what he’s looking for. Pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and placing it on the table. “Can I ask you some questions?”

Julie places her sandwich back on her tray, the slight appetite she was feeling going away. “This again? No.”

“Dustin?” Jane questions as she walks up to the table, Max rolling beside her. “What are you doing here?”

Max rolls up to her usual spot at the end of the table. Weird how a once a week sort of thing turned into usual, almost daily at this point. “We sit here to get away from you. So go away.”

“And you are in my seat,” Jane adds with a scowl.

“So, you can make a new friend, but I can’t?” He retorts, scoffing while Jane rolls her eyes. “And I find it offending that you want to get away from me so bad.”

Max groans. “I’m sorry hanging out multiple times a week, both in and outside of school, is such a blow to your ego that I can’t hang out with my one friend outside of the party.”

“Me too.”

Even though they spent multiple lunches together at this point, Julie didn’t think she was at the friend level. Acquaintance, maybe. Someone that was calmer than the chaotic energy that radiated at their usual table, definitely. But friend, that typically wasn’t how it went.

Julie thinks back to the last few weeks, replaying the conversations the three of them would have over lunch. It was mostly Jane and Max talking at first. But then Julie started getting comfortable around them and would talk more. So much so that it started to come naturally. Like they were friends.

Does she consider Jane and Max friends? After looking at the scene unfolding of Max and Jane continuing to bicker with Dustin, fighting over their seats at her table. This wouldn’t be an acquaintance behavior. But it would be a friend’s behavior.

Julie made friends. That was new.

“I will just sit next to Julie then,” Jane says, walking around the table. “Since you won’t get up.”

“How do you even know her?” Max prompts, glaring at him with her clouded eyes.

Dustin shrugs and gestures to Julie, “She knows Steve.”

Jane and Max stop what they’re doing at the same time and look at Julie. “You know Steve?” Jane asks.

“Steve Harrington?”

Julie is taken back by the shock in their voices. “Yeah, I do. Do you guys?”

“Dustin,” a guy with black hair asks from behind him. “What are you doing over here?”

“Are we switching tables or something,” another guy in a basketball jacket asks.

“No,” Max interrupts, “you’re not. This is Jane, and Julie, and my table. Not yours.”

The attention turns to Julie again. “Oh hi,” basketball guy says. “I’m Lucas.”

“Mike,” the black-haired guy says.

“Will,” the third guy that had walked up a little late finishes.

Jane leans over and fills in who they are. Will being her adoptive brother, Mike being her ex-boyfriend, and Lucas being Max’s boyfriend she won’t admit is her boyfriend. Each explanation just adding a million more questions that will probably never get answered with how this conversation keeps going.

“Is this who’ve you’ve been sitting with at lunch?” Lucas asks, directed at Max.

“Yes, obviously.”

“And she knows Steve,” Dustin adds.

Julie glares at him. “Thanks for that.”

She looks up to find the three boys staring at her with wide eyes. Do all of these people really know Steve? And is it really that surprising that she does? It’s getting tired at this point.

“You know Steve,” Mike says, eyebrows raising.

“You guys know him too?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah. Looks after us sometimes.”

Realization hits. “Oh, you’re the kids he used to babysit.”

Max bursts out laughing, causing Jane to start giggling while Dustin gasps. “He was not our babysitter.”

“Well,” Lucas starts, “he sort of was. At least that one time.”

“And he did watch over us a lot,” Will adds.

Mike rolls his eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it, it is sort of true.”

Lucas addresses Julie, “And you know him too. Did he look after you or something too?”

“No,” both Julie and Dustin say at the same time. Causing her to send another glare in his direction.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” she adds. “Sit down, you look like idiots just standing there.”

The boys sit down, Lucas and Mike taking seats next to Dustin while Will walks around and sits next to Jane. The entire table is looking at Julie, including Dustin. Almost giving her encouragement that she can do this, as if he’s not the reason she’s in this situation in the first place.

She lets out a long sigh before just biting the bullet. “Steve is my brother.”

The table erupts in various reactions. Shock mostly, paired with confusion. Asking why they never knew, how long he’s even had one. The fact that they didn’t know he had one being the biggest issue.

Max is the first to connect the dots, the only one who knew Julie before she knew Steve. “Your dad is a piece of shit.”

Julie nods. “Yeah, he really is. From what I’ve heard, never met him.”

“That alone means he’s a piece of shit.”

Lucas lets out a long breath of his own realization. “Holy shit. This is your friend from the trailer park.”

“What are you even talking about?” Dusitn asks.

“Max said that she was eating lunch with an old friend from the trailer park. This is her.”

“So,” Mike says with a confused face. “You’re only half related to Steve, because you lived in the trailer park?”

“Mike,” Will chastises while Lucas hits his shoulder.

Julie snorts. “Yeah, basically. The whole story is my mom and his dad had an affair, he paid her out to keep quiet. I didn’t even know I was related to Steve until like, a month ago.”

“Woah, that is crazy,” Jane says.

Julie picks up her sandwich again. “Yeah, it is.”

. . .

Steve falls against his front door after it closes behind him. He never expected manager training to be exciting, or entertaining in the slightest. But he would have never imagined it being so excruciatingly boring. If he had to hear Keith going on about the responsibilities of managing a team like he knows Steve can’t handle it one more time, he might quit. He won’t, but he likes threatening it. And if Steve was so unqualified for the position, he wouldn’t have gotten it in the first place.

But he did, and now that means he has to be at Family Video at seven in the morning, every morning, for the next two weeks. After that he’s back at normal opening hours and Kieth will be across the country. That he’s looking forward to.

The phone rings while he’s in the kitchen, protein bar hanging out of his mouth and a beer in his hand. He sets the beer down and heads for the hall phone.

“Harrington residence,” he mutters while chewing.

“Steve, it’s Sarah. I am calling to tell you what the decision is about Julie’s placement.”

A puddle of nerves builds in his stomach as he tries to breathe. Heartbeat pounding in his ears. “What was decided?”

“I am pleased to tell you that you have been approved for temporary guardianship.”

Relief flows through Steve as he leans against the wall. “That is great. Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure. As we talked about before, there will be frequent visits for a while until Julie is settled, and most of them will be unprompted. I will also have a few more interviews with both you and Julie to assess the adjustment.”

“Yes, I remember you saying that.”

“Now, the unfortunate part of this is that you are only granted temporary custody. This means that Julie will still be in the system and can be moved if needed. Considering your age, that could happen more frequently than most. But, if you two would ever decide to make your custody permanent, I would be more than happy to help you along in the process. It would be a legal battle and you would have to stand before a judge, but it is not uncommon for people your age taking in their siblings.”

“I’ll let you know if it comes to that. Thank you for everything, Sarah, really.”

“Anytime. Please call me if you have any questions. I’ll leave you to tell Julie the news.”

“When would she be able to move into my house?”

“As soon as both of you are ready. I will be the one who picks her up and drops her off at your house. Just let me know when to do it.”

Steve thinks about when the best time would be. This weekend probably. He wouldn’t have work, she wouldn’t have school. He could make sure that everything was ready in the guest room. Her room now. Another room in the house with someone else’s name attached to it. He liked the sound of that.

“That sounds great. I’ll talk to her later about what works for her.”

“Great. Talk to you later then.”

Sarah hangs up the phone, allowing Steve to quickly type in Robin’s phone number. Excitement flowing through his veins as the line rings in his ear.

“Hello,” Robin’s voice comes through the line.

“Rob, I got approved. Julie can come live with me.”

There’s a loud thump on the line before Robin’s screaming through the line. “Holy shit, that amazing, Steve.”

“I know.”

“Oh, this is so great. I’m so happy for you two. Does she know yet?”

“No, called you right after I found out. I’ll tell her later.”

“She’ll be so happy. Do you need any help making sure everything’s ready? Helping her move in?”

Steve shrugs, even though she can’t see it. “Don’t think so. I’ll let you know if I do, though.”

He hears some rustling on the other side of the phone, presumably Robin stretching the phone cord as long as she can and sitting down in the doorway of her room. “So, when are you going to tell her? How are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. She’ll probably be coming over after school, then I guess.”

“Aw, no cake.”

“Is this just a ploy for me to bake you a cake?”

“No,” she draws out. “Ok, maybe. You make a mean cake, Steve.”

“Whatever.” He glances at the wall, noticing how if he left now, he could make it to pick her up from school. “I’m gonna go, Rob. Talk to you later.”

“You better.”

He hangs up the phone and puts his unopened beer back in the fridge. Making a mental note to get rid of that soon. Grabbing his keys, he heads for the school.

Once he parks, he gets out of the car, so she can see that he’s there, and waits. He should have warned her that he was coming or something. But he didn’t know if she carried the walkie that he gave her to school, so he didn’t even try.

Eddie pulls up beside him. “Hey, what are you doing here? Thought it was Claudia’s pick up day.”

“Not here for Dustin.” He walks over to Eddie, whispering, “I got approved.”

Eddie’s face breaks out in a smile. “That’s great, man.” He reaches out and lightly grasps Steve’s arm, the touch radiating across it. “I’m happy for you.”

One tick off Steve’s list of things that were too much for him to not date Eddie. One thing that isn’t holding it back anymore. Replaced by the new dynamic of Julie starting to live with him sure, but the list grew shorter.

He said to himself that it would be too much to be in a relationship while all of the feelings of his childhood came crashing back. Never feeling good enough for anyone to stay. Feeling worthless all of the time. Like everyone in his life is temporary and one day they would realize that Steve’s not worth shit and just leave.

And Steve didn’t want Eddie to leave.

Steve’s been in relationships before. Gone on dates, had sex, kissed. It was all one thing. But with Eddie it seems like everything is enhanced more than anything he’s ever felt before. He’s felt more connected with him without going on a single date. With only sleeping with him the one time and not even kissing him since.

Which is why he was so wary of starting this at the wrong time. That he would get so wrapped up in everything that he wouldn’t have enough time for Eddie. That Eddie would leave.

But the old feelings were still dredged up, they still would have been even without Julie coming into his life. He would have always applied for the manager position when Keith left, he would have still forgot to take his mom off the reference list. There would have still been the phone call with his dad that left him feeling empty and worthless.

Maybe it was time to take the leap, jump off the cliff. Steve’s been reckless in the past, why stop now. Every step of the way, Eddie’s been patient. Checking in with phone calls, making sure Steve knew he was still there. Promising to stay, to not leave him like his parents did. Everything Steve’s feared, just wasn’t there with Eddie.

“So, when are you going to tell her?” Eddie’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Or does she already know?”

“I’m telling her today. Just found out like an hour ago.”

It feels like every time Steve looks at Eddie, all of the fear he had was gone. And he questions why it was ever there in the first place. But at night when he’s left alone, all of the thoughts creep back in again and he can’t help but agree with the step back.

“Well, let me know how it goes. She probably won’t have a lot of stuff to move, but I’ll help you get the house ready if you need it.”

But then the day comes, and Eddie just continues to be Eddie, and the fears fade away again.

“I will,” Steve answers, smiling.

The bell rings and the kids come pouring out. Julie spots him from the door and holds up a hand to wave before walking towards the bike racks. Max and Lucas come out not long later, Lucas whispering something in Max’s ear when he sees Steve.

“How dare you?” Max says in his direction.

“How dare I what?”

“Not tell me you had a sister. And one that I’m friends with.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “I didn’t know you knew Julie.”

Max gapes. “And I didn’t know you knew Julie.”

“I didn’t know Julie until today,” Lucas interjects. “She seems nice though.”

“Why do I have a strong feeling that this revelation was Dustin’s fault,” Eddie says, opening the back door of his car of Max’s wheelchair.

“Totally was,” Max snorts. “But also, yours for not telling me.”

“Us,” Lucas adds.

Max shrugs. “Yeah, us. Mainly me though.”

“I didn’t tell that many people. And I didn’t know who she wanted to tell,” He defends.

“Who wanted to tell what?” Julie asks, rolling up with her bike.

“Who you wanted to tell about this whole sibling thing that was revealed at lunch today,” Max fills in.

“Oh,” Julie shrugs. “I didn’t really care who he told. Not my family’s reputation that will be tarnished.”

Max crosses her arms and glares at Steve. “So, you could have told me. How many times have I seen you since you’ve known her?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says knowing the exact number of times, “sometimes.”

“Two times a week when you drive me to and from my physical therapy appointments. And you don’t mention it once.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the sibling I didn’t know I had until a month ago.”

“Thank you,” Max says victoriously. “Bye, Julie. We better be eating lunch like we normally do tomorrow. Alone,” she says pointedly at Lucas, “just you me and Jane.”

“Not my fault Dustin decided to move tables to be annoying.”

They continue to bicker while Max gets into the car. Lucas helping Eddie collapse the wheelchair before he gets into the back seat. Him finally taking Eddie up on the offer to take him to and from school since he’s already taking Max. Steve would honestly take Max, if he was available to do so every day, but he wasn’t.

Julie finishes loading her bike into the trunk, how it’s able to fit in there he’ll never know. Pure will probably. She gets into the front seat after dumping her backpack into the back seat. The whole thing seeming like a routine to her. That she’s so used to being picked up by Steve, it’s become normal. He’s happy that it’s become normal.

“So, you met the other kids today?” Steve asks on the way home, Julie sketching something in a journal.

“Yeah,” she draws out. “That was fun, to say the least.”

“And it was Dustin’s fault? I need to have a serious talk with that kid.”

Julie shrugs. “He’s not so bad when he’s not interrogating me about my past or inciting a lunchtime riot.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

A large car drives past him, the engine muddling the sound of whatever Julie says next. “What was that, couldn’t hear it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just can’t hear out of my right ear that well sometimes.”

Julie’s quiet for a second before continuing, “I said that Sarah said we should be hearing the results of the inspection soon. So, keep an ear out for that.”

Steve smiles to himself as he pulls onto his street. “Well, about that.”

“Wait, you heard back,” Julie shuts her journal and looks at him. Waiting for his response. “What was it?”

Steve waits until he pulls into his driveway and puts the car into park. Turning to look at her with a smile when he does. “I got approved.”

Julie makes the biggest smile he’s ever seen her make. “Holy shit, that’s amazing. I can get out of that house. I can move here. When? How?”

“Like when I got the call or when you moved in?”

“I don’t know, both.”

“I got the call earlier today and you can move in whenever we’re both ready. How, I’m not sure, but I’m not questioning it.”

“You better not.” Julie takes a second, looking down at her hands. “When do you think I could move in.”

Steve tilts his head to the side. “Well, I want to make sure I have everything ready, and so you have time to pack. I was thinking Friday, after school.”

“Friday, that works.” She looks at Steve again, mouth opening a few times before closing again. Eyes full of something he can’t quite read. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

. . .

It’s weird that Julie has had to pack up all of her things twice in such a short period of time. Well really only ever the once, some of her things never quite making it out of the bags she packed them in. But as she shoves the rest of her clothes back into her duffel bag, she can’t help but think that she might not have to do it too soon again.

Not that she wants to get her hopes up. This was all still temporary, Steve explained it all to her a few days ago. If there was another family that wanted to take her in, one that was better than him, she could probably be moved again. She didn’t want to though, at least she didn’t think.

It was hard enough to live in a house with two people she hated. Two people who very much hated her as well. And while her and Steve have grown closer, there are still so many things that they don’t know about each other. So many things she tried not to show.

But he cared enough to get custody of her, so maybe he would care enough to know all the things she was hiding. Not like any of them were bad, just things she didn’t want to think about. Mainly the sadness that still came at night, and sometimes during the day. The tears that were very much not dried up, still flowing from the ever-growing pool of grief.

That was her journey to go through, and she’s been doing it alone. She missed the moments where her mom would find her upset, and just sit down next to her with all but a hug to offer, hoping that it would do something to help. It always did. Never without fail. She missed those the most.

She stuffs the journal she’s been drawing in into her backpack, zipping it up afterwards. It wasn’t her most current journal, but one from last year. This year’s journal tainted by what’s on the inside. A story she couldn’t bring herself to finish. A gift that would now never be able to be given.

That’s not what today is though. Today is about being happy to get out of this house, to go someplace new. Someplace that she would get to call home again. Just not the same home.

Never the same home.

Blinking back the tears that came to her eyes without permission, she picks up her bags and heads to the front door. A patient Sarah waiting for her to finish packing. Her bags are placed into the trunk, and she leaves. Throwing a well-deserved middle finger and a fuck you behind her.

She never has to go back there again.

When they get to Steve’s house, he comes out and takes her bags from the trunk before she gets the chance. They’re dropped on the first step while he talks to Sarah about the next visit and when to expect it. Julie just standing in one spot, taking it all in.

Sarah pulls Julie to the side and wishes her luck, letting her know that if she needs anything, she’s just one phone call away. And just like that, she’s gone, and everything is cemented into place. Temporarily at least. But this time a better temporary. A more permanent temporary. At least she hopes.

“So, I thought that you could have the room that you stayed in before. But you can take one of the other guest rooms if you want. Not like anyone else is going to use them.”

Not just stay in. Have, take. A room that is hers and no one else’s. “The room I stayed in before it fine.”

“Cool,” Steve grabs her bags again, taking them up the stairs and to her room.

She meets him there, walking into a room that has terrible floral wallpaper with curtains to match. Wincing a bit, forgetting how terrible it was.

“Yeah, my mom’s take in interior design is terrible. You should see my room.”

“It’s definitely interesting.”

“I was thinking of ordering a pizza for dinner. That sound good.” She responds with a small nod. “Ok, I’ll let you get unpacked and everything. Let me know if you need anything.”

He leaves the door slightly ajar when he leaves. Not in a pressuring way, but rather to let her choose if she wanted to leave it open or shut. She stares at it for a bit, wondering what would feel better. But the room is already starting to crowd her, so she leaves it open.

She doesn’t know why it’s all so overwhelming. Maybe it’s the pink peonies scattered across both the wallpaper and the curtains. Only backed by sickening yellow or stark white. The bedspread is white with wildflowers and there are more pillows than there should be. Nothing seems like her, nothing is colors that she likes.

But it’s her room now. A room that she can hopefully make her own and feel normal in again. Normal in a home that she barely knows but is the best place for her to be. Not the place she’d like to be at, because it no longer exists.

Sitting down on the bed, Julie takes a few deep breaths. Not now, repeats in her mind. Out of all the times to breakdown, now is not one of them. Not when she has to pull herself together in twenty minutes to struggle and eat some pizza she’s not even hungry for. She could blame the change for her lack of hunger, but it wouldn’t last long.

Before it was easier to lie when she wouldn’t feel hungry when people didn’t care about her. When the idea of eating became too much and unappealing. Just pushing it around the plate more times than the fork made it to her lips. Hunger just wasn’t a thing that mattered. She wasn’t starving, just never hungry.

Some days it would be better. The days when she would wake up and be able to take care of herself. Get in the shower and actually wash her hair, instead of letting the warm water run over her skin. Put her hair in a new braid like her mom used to do instead of just a ponytail. Get dressed in clothes that were clean, instead of just the same sweats she wore to bed that night. But then the bad days came in the next and everything just felt empty again.

The bag with her mom’s picture stared back at her, boring a hole in her heart. She can’t bear to look at it. Shoving it under the bed, she squeezes her eyes shut to try and trap in the tears. Cursing herself for letting one fall down her cheek, burning in its path. This wasn’t the time.

Julie forces herself to stand, unpacking her clothes and placing them in dresser drawers. Hanging up her jackets and shirts in the closet that smells like mothballs. Everything in the room looking so staged it makes her feel so out of place.

Fully knowing that the only thing that would make her feel at place isn’t here anymore.

Cursing under her breath, she forces herself to keep moving. To unpack her backpack at the desk in the room, stacking her journals and shoving the one she can’t bear to look at in the bottom drawer. Taking out the folder with her documents and placing them in another, followed by organizing her old schoolwork.

Anything to try and get her mind from coming back to the same thought time and time again. This was not the time. Later she can break. Later she can crumble. Fall into the bed that will feel anything but her own, but now is. Because this is not the life she would have chosen but the one she is now stuck with.

There is a light knock on the door, giving Julie a second to take a deep breath and put herself together. One meal. She can get through one meal.

“Hey,” Steve says as he pushes the door open. “Pizza’s here if you want any.”

Even though he’s not forcing her to come down to eat, she still will. Because she needs to eat something today, and she’ll get down at least a slice with someone watching her. “Yeah, sure.”

He nods before leaving the room, somehow, she can tell that he picked up on what was going through her mind. She hoped she was wrong. But with the way he’s so cautious around her as they eat their food, it had to mean that he did. The slight glances he thinks she doesn’t catch, the worry in his eyes.

Blame the adjustment, she thinks. When, if, he asks about it, she can blame the uncertainty on getting used to the place. He doesn’t need to know what it truly going on her in mind.

Steve never does though. Just eats patiently and packs up the leftover when he’s done. Saying nothing when she excuses herself after eating barely a single slice. Taking the rest of her water upstairs, resting it on the nightstand.

She grabs the journal she was working on earlier, turning to the page of the sketch. Something about it felt off and she couldn’t fix it. So that was what kept her mind busy for an hour or so, keeping the thoughts at bay for just a little longer.

Until it became too much and all she wanted to do was to curl in bed and stop pretending to be ok. So, she takes her clothes and little toiletries she has to the bathroom and gets ready. Feeling up to brushing her teeth and washing her face. Running into Steve in the hall and letting him know that she was turning in.

“Night. I still have training tomorrow, so I’ll probably be gone before you wake up. Help yourself to anything in the fridge.” It’s thoughtful, even if it would never happen.

“Ok, night.”

Shutting the bedroom door behind her, she takes off the unnecessary pillows on the bed and makes a little pile in the corner. The bag underneath the bed calling to her again, making her feel guilty for hiding it.

She pulls it out, unzipping it and taking out the picture with her mom. Their smiles so happy it makes her heart break into more pieces than it already ways. Covering herself in the blankets, she clutches the picture close to her chest. Finally, she breaks.

Chapter 8

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's Reviews Brief Thoughts- America's Most Eligible

Welcome to the twelfth official Cadybear's Reviews Brief Thoughts post! Today I'll be talking about America's Most Eligible, which I have ranked on the "Gold Tier" at 8 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this series was back in May-June 2021. I had started another playthrough in July 2023, but it's been put on hiatus.

This one was pretty fun. 

I think it did a pretty good job of getting you into the crazy atmosphere of reality TV shows. Whether you love it or hate it, you gotta admit it’s quite filled with some pretty wild drama. I also loved being able to establish our own confession cam persona for the MC– MCs that give the players agency in their character are always a win for me. 

My only real problem is that besides maybe Jen, the LIs were mostly forgettable and flat in personality. Let me clap Carter’s cheeks instead please!

That and, a lot of the male MC outfits were painfully mid. Like, they seem to really enjoy dressing male MC in basic casual and/or toilet swirl color scheme outfits, even though this is a reality TV show where ideally you’d want to grab people’s attention and make yourself look stylish. I don’t like the outfits that f!MC gets as they’re not my style, but at least I can buy that they’d be impactful on this kind of show. But for m!MC… why do they want him to do a photoshoot in a big winter coat that looks like the same coat worn by PETA’s version of Ghetsis from Pokemon? Why are they saying this is his last chance to “show off his hot bod” and then giving him an outfit with a big coat that looks like an off-brand Doctor Who cosplay? 

I know it’s pretty par for the course for premium outfit setup scenes to be obviously written with f!MC’s outfits in mind, but it’s far more frequent in this series, and far more glaring in this kind of story too because this is a romance-based reality TV show. Ideally, the hardcore dedicated contestants would want to dress in ways that grab people’s attention and make themselves seem more desirable. And I can assure you, no one’s underwear is gonna be flying off at giant peepeepoopoo-colored winter coats. 

Speaking of m!MC writing coded for f!MC, this is kind of an elephant in the room, but I don’t think this series as a whole is quite as “female coded” as people have made it out to be. Granted it has the most gender errors I’ve ever seen in a GOC Choices story, like some of the outfit descriptions or that “he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face” line. But a lot of the other stuff like the shoulder carrying stuff or MC’s sometimes gushy personality or the walking down the aisle stuff, more or less boils down to lazy coding in general rather than lazy coding specifically for a male MC. I mean, that tends to be the case for the majority of the “male MC is female coded” complaints I see, but since this book in particular has gotten a lot of those sorts of complaints, I figured it’s worth bringing up. 

So yeah. Overall this one was pretty fun. Would love to play this again and see the different kinds of outcomes I can have.

[bluarabian]

Freedom update.... (the horse)

Being a rescue, there are so many unknowns to their health. Even knowing this mare on and off for the past 4 years until I finally got her for 500 USDs. I always know buying "cheap" horses come at a great medical cost, and Freedom is no exception. I knew picking her up that I had some costs coming my way.

She came with horrible dirreaha and a bad winter coat. My guess was ulcers and was verified from the vet. With (pricy) medications, this has gotten under control, and I am able to use matanice medications to keep her stomach healthy. I am sure these onset early in life. She came from an auction 8 years ago (I have no idea from where) into another cruddy owners hands. When the owner I knew got ahold of her (4 years ago), said owner did okay but never does vet and didn't do dental.

Now let's talk dental....! She went to the local horse dentist and had two very bad cracked teeth, and both were necrotic. He was unable to extract due to them being cracked below the gum line. He suggested Idaho Horse Dentisty School. I called and managed to get an appointment for July 20th (today when I am posting!). This drive is about 4 hours away. So, with some planning, Max and I packed the girl up and made the long drive. She rode the long drive like a champion and when we arrived I have to give this school a lot of credit. They really do everything they can to keep the horse comfortable. Sedation, lidocaine, pre numbing, post op banamine... These people are Champs. Below are some photos, I won't share the extracted tooth here because blood but if you want to see the camera photos please continue...

Also horse in background getting routine cleaning... sedation doing that fellow really good.

Yikes, though, look at those awful teeth! This is why routine dental matters!

I imagine now that when she fully recovers and she can actually chew her food pain-free, her stomach will continue to heal and her health will continue to improve.

Neglect is so common in the Western states, and it stinks. Freedom is a really kind horse and I don't understand why people stop caring for these lovely animals. I'm glad to have her and even though she will in the long run cost more than a healthy horse I am happy to have her apart of the farm.

[jmrothwell]

Winter prompt! "You'll get a cold walking around barefoot" for Peterpatterlina?

Luke eyed the papers spread out before him, a colorful collage of inks taking shape into a beautiful melody. It wasn’t finished, not yet but he was close, he was so close he could taste it-or hear it rather. If only he could figure out what was missing. 

“Luke!” Julie’s voice echoed across the house. He thought she’d gone shopping with Reggie. Were they back already? They were supposed to be gone for hours.

He was supposed to have done…something…was it finish the song? He was almost done with that.

“Yeah?” he shouted, turning his head slightly toward the sound of her voice, but didn’t dare tear his eyes away from the papers. Didn’t want to risk the moment where inspiration struck. 

“Could you please help us?” Her voice sounded slightly strained now that he was more focused on it. 

“Got it, boss” Luke cried out, moving to go help as asked while still maintaining eye contact with his song for as long as he could. Nearly tripped over his own feet as he walked backwards as far as he could go. 

Once he’d gone as far as he could he sprinted through the house, humming the new melody the entire way. He could hear Julie putting the cold grocery items away as he traversed past the kitchen.

He’d made it halfway to the car outside when his feet finally registered the biting cold concrete below. Reggie, bundled up in a dark coat and red scarf met him at the trunk of the car with a smile that quickly furrowed into a disappointedly concerned scowl. “Dude.”

“What?” Luke’s teeth chattered slightly as he began to load his bare-and slightly red-arms up with various bags. Desperately he clung to the tune inside his head. “I’m here to help.”

Reggie groaned quietly under his breath as he also grabbed as much as he could. He and Julie had to buy more than they usually would have since the three of them were hosting for the holiday season this year. 

“You’re not going to be any help to anyone if you get sick.” Reggie muttered, then made an affronted sound deep in his throat. “Dude! You’ll get a cold walking around barefoot like that out here.”

“I’ll be fine.” Luke shot back as he dashed as fast as he could back to the house now that his arms were full. His humming grew louder as he mentally went back to working on the song. 

A sharp prickling sensation similar to a foot on the verge of falling asleep coursed through his limbs and feet from the temperature difference between outside and inside.

Julie’s bright smile crumpled faster than Reggie’s had when she turned to greet him in the kitchen. He barely noticed as he placed a quick peck to her warm cheek and deposited his bags. “Right, Let me go finish emptying the car” he exhaled as he turned to go finish grabbing bags so he could go back to his song. 

Reggie blocked his path as Julie’s hands grabbed his arm. They were both pouting slightly now, worry darkening their eyes. Luke’s leg tapped beneath him as he tapped a rhythm out with his fingers against his leg. 

“I can finish grabbing the bags.” Reggie said as the look in his eyes shifted, to what Luke couldn’t tell but it sounded like something in his head. It was so close to the sound he was looking for. How could he define that sound? 

When Reggie continued speaking his voice was softer, “you can help Julie put things away in here.” 

After Luke nodded his agreement Reggie pressed his chilled lips to Luke’s then went back to his task. There was that sound again, what was it? The question plagued him as he helped Julie out in relative silence, his humming which turned into a quiet wordless singing filling the air between them. 

“All right, where’s the song?” Reggie asked once they had all finished puzzling the surplus of food away. 

“Wha-” Luke couldn’t bite back his shock, though it was met by fond eye rolls and that unidentifiable sound again.

Julie’s arms wrapped around him as she snuggled into his side, “You have been half-stuck in songwriting mode since we got home.”

“Oh.” Luke nodded because that was certainly true. However before he could even begin to move or tell them about the song his stomach growled loudly. And ooooh, that’s what he forgot to do today. 

Reggie sighed as he plastered himself to Luke’s other side. “I’m guessing you’ve been stuck in songwriting mode for longer than that.” 

Luke ducked his head, suddenly very aware of how hungry he was. Julie moved as she declared, “ok, food first, then we’ll take a look at that song of yours.”  

Luke smiled grateful for these two wonderful people in his life. Turns out they were exactly what was missing from his song as well.

[invisibleraven]

I wish you would write a fic where homeless!Reggie and Luke find out why Julie ran away from home, because I love that verse so much

A follow up to this ficlet here

Luke looked around his parent's place, making sure there was no hint of them having been there. He was sure his mom would know, she always did. But this time, as he locked the door behind him, he debated dropping the keys into the flower pot beside the door. Finally cutting that thread between the life he had now and the one he left behind.

"They won't change the locks or bar the windows and replace you. You're not Peter Pan," Julie said quietly.

"Just lost," Luke commented, but still let the keys go back onto his chain, slipped inside his pocket for safe keeping once more. Taking Julie and Reggie's hands in his, they made they way back towards LA proper, though Luke couldn't help but take one last glance backwards as they did.

Time passed, slowly and all at once. The days were growing colder, and it became harder and harder to get money. making Luke worry. He had survived winter on the streets before. Reggie had gotten really sick the year prior, so he was better prepared. But Julie... she confessed this was the first year out on her own, and she had nothing to protect her from the chill.

After that, every penny they earn that doesn't go towards food is spent assembling Julie a winter wardrobe. Plus getting a few extra things for the boys, cramming everything into a worn duffel that they never let leave their sight.

One night, they are all huddled together, wearing every layer they own, protected from the elements by a cardboard box fort that Reggie cobbled together. It's not the best shelter, but it'll do in a pinch. Luke wishes he had thought to find an oil barrel to make a fire pit though. Though the cops have been wandering the streets, picking on the other homeless in the area claiming the fires are illegal. Anything to put down the put upon.

Luke blinks his eyes open, seeing Julie creeping away, and shakes Reggie, the two of them following her, wondering where she was headed in the middle of the night without telling them.

Julie ends up a cemetery, winding her way through the graves, stopping at one under a large barren willow tree. From beneath her coat she extracts a single flower, a dahlia, and lays it on the grave before bursting into tears.

That's when Luke and Reggie rush in, pulling her into their arms, letting her soak their shoulders in tears as she weeps and sniffles, shaking from the crying and the cold. They whisper their love into her curls, assuring her that they are there, rubbing her back until finally her tears peter out.

Julie sits back, wiping at her eyes. "Thanks," she whispers, then glances back at the grave. "It's my mom's birthday today. She would have been fifty. She died early this year. And I felt... so lost and alone. Like my whole world was ending. I couldn't deal with my grief, and everyone else seemed to be able to move on. Like she was never there, like her loss from our lives was just a thing that happened. So I left."

"I am... so sorry," Luke replies, and Reggie looks so sad and remorseful, squeezing Julie's hand.

"Dahlias were her favourite, mine too" Julie sniffled. "So I stole that one. It's the best I can do for a gift."

"One day," Luke promises, "When my music makes us rich and famous, I'll buy you the biggest house there is and fill it with dahlias if you want."

"A whole field's worth," Reggie adds. "One where we can frolic with our dogs and kids."

Julie giggled at that. "I think we're a ways off from either, but never stop dreaming there carino."

Reggie grinned at her, wide and hopeful. "Do you wanna tell us about her?"

"We'd love to get to know her," Luke added.

"I-I'd like that," Julie replied, then shivered. "Though maybe not here and now, I'm freezing. You think our fort is still there and unoccupied?"

"Always a chance," Reggie said, pulling her up. Luke grabbed their bag and his guitar, shouldering both, and huddling in as they made their way past the monuments.

Their shelter was unfortunately dismantled when they arrived back, so they wandered the streets, stopping at a church that was still lit up, and had always been friendly to them. Julie entered, crossing herself, making her way to the candles, lighting one for her mother. Luke made a clumsy sign, never having been one for religion, only going on major holidays, and lit another candle next to Julie's.

Reggie looked decidedly uncomfortable, and hissed at Julie, "Are you sure it's okay if I do this? The Catholic church doesn't take kindly to Jews, lapsed though I may be."

"It's fine Reg," Julie assured him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, guiding his trembling fingers to light another candle alongside hers. Luke grinned and kissed Reggie's other cheek, then guided them to a pew, the both of them sitting quietly as Julie murmured a silent prayer.

"Mija?"

Julie's head flew up at that, looking terrified at the older Latino man standing there, looking at her as if she was a ghost. "P-papi..."

Ray Molina rushed forward, gathering a now openly weeping Julie into his arms, the two of them talking quietly in Spanish as Luke and Reggie stood back, decidedly uncomfortable. Until Julie stood, gesturing them to come forward. "Papi, these are my boyfriends, Luke and Reggie. They've been keeping me safe since I left."

"Thank you both so much," Ray said, his voice grateful. "It can't have been easy on you two, out on the streets like that. Well you are family now. Let's get you back to the house, my sister in law will have you full of food before too long. Then we can figure out the best way to move forward."

Reggie took a step forward, eager to go to a warm home, a loving family. But Luke hesitated. He had thought he would be accepted at his home, that his dreams would be supported. But if his mom couldn't love him for who he was, what he wanted, how could some stranger?

"Luke, mi vida, my mom was a musician, my dad will get it, trust me," Julie whispered, pecking a kiss to his nose. "And if you don't want to stay, you don't have to. I'll go with you, you know that."

"We both will," Reggie vowed, pressing his forehead to Luke's temple.

"Julie, I can't ask you to give up your family for me, and Reggie, not your first chance at a loving home."

"You aren't asking," Reggie said.

"We're offering," Julie added. "Let's just go for tonight, and we can decide what to do in the morning."

Luke smiled, brushing away a stay tear and let himself be lead to Ray, and then, towards home.

[ak-879]

10 Fashion Tips You Should Definitely Know

The world of fashion is constantly changing. New trends and styles keep emerging every season, so it can be difficult to keep up. Thankfully, there are plenty of websites and blogs that provide useful advice on how to stay in-the-know when it comes to style. If you’re looking for some tips on how to build your wardrobe and create a style that’s all your own, read on for some useful pointers. So many people spend their time worrying about what someone else thinks about the way they dress, but remember that fashion is merely a secondary characteristic—it doesn’t define who you are as a person. The only person who needs to like the way you dress is you! So if you don’t feel confident in your current style, take these 10 tips as advice on how to begin building a personal style that suits you best.

Know Your Body And Its Shapes

The very first step to building a great wardrobe is knowing your body type. Body types aren’t just for women trying to find a bikini-ready swimsuit—they’re for everyone who wants to look their best and feel confident in their clothing. If you don’t know your body type, how can you pick out the right pieces? First, start by measuring your body. Take measurements of your bust, waist, and hips, and then compare the numbers to the charts below to find your body type. Once you know your body type, it’ll be easier to pick out clothes that fit you best. Keep a note of your body type on your phone or computer so you can refer back to it as needed.

Invest In Good Quality Basics

Building a wardrobe from scratch with only trendy items that are only going to be worn for one season can be expensive. But investing in a few classic pieces is the key to building a wardrobe that will last for years. Some items that are worth the investment are neutral-coloured trousers (they can be worn to almost any occasion at any time of year), a few quality blazers (they can be worn with a variety of different outfits and can be dressed up or down depending on the occasion), and a pair of classic pumps (there will be plenty of occasions where a nice pair of black pumps are appropriate). Some other items that are worth the investment are a good-quality handbag that will last for years, a good selection of basic T-shirts (nothing is more versatile than a plain white tee), a few pairs of well-made jeans, and a neutral-coloured pair of high-end sneakers.

Shop In-Season Produce

When you go shopping for new clothes, do so in-season produce. Buying produce that’s in-season will help you save money because you’ll be getting the most out of your purchases. For example, if you purchase a winter coat in July, it might not be warm enough come December. Depending on where you live and the type of climate you have, the seasons in your area are likely different than what they are in other parts of the world. For example, while fall is in full swing in the northern parts of the United States, down in Florida, it’s still hot and humid. If you’re unsure of when the seasons change in your area, look it up online. There are plenty of excellent fashion websites where you can find the dates of in-season produce for your region.

Go To Fabric Stores For The Best Finds

Most people know that shopping at discount and outlet stores is a great way to save money, but fewer people think to look in fabric stores. Some of the most stylish and trendy clothing can be found in fabric stores. The best part about it is that fabric stores tend to have low-priced items because the clothes are made out of fabric, meaning you can find pieces that are trendy, but won’t break the bank. As long as the fabric is good quality, a trendy outfit can last for years. When you’re in a fabric store, make sure you try on the items and inspect them for any imperfections. Be sure to check the seams to make sure they’re straight and don’t have any loose threads or holes in them.

Dress For Your Body Type

Different body types look best in certain clothing types. If you’re not sure what your body type is, make use of the tips above to figure it out. Once you know your body type, you can better pick out clothing that accentuates your positive features while hiding your less-than-ideal features. If you’re a pear-shaped woman (i.e. you have a smaller bust and hips, with a larger tummy), avoid clothes that cling to your stomach. Instead, go for clothing with a looser fit that will hide your stomach and draw attention to your more attractive parts. If you have a very large bust, avoid clothing that has a loose or low neckline. This can make your large bust look even larger. Instead, look for clothing with higher necklines that won’t draw attention to your bust.

Diversify Your Wardrobe With Colour And Print

Most people build their wardrobe around neutral colours like black, grey, and navy blue, but this can make your wardrobe feel overly matchy-matchy. Instead, diversify your wardrobe with different colours and prints. This will make your wardrobe feel more exciting and less boring. There are lots of different colours to choose from, but if you’re just starting out with building your wardrobe, stick to neutral colours like black, grey, navy blue, white, and khaki. These are safe colours that you can mix and match with anything. Some of the most versatile prints include plaid, polka dots, and chevrons. These prints are stylish, but they can also be toned down with other neutral pieces if you want a less in-your-face look.

Don’t Be Afraid To Try Something New

There’s no better way to figure out what doesn’t work for you than by trying out new styles and trends. If you’re not sure what the latest trends are, keep an eye out for fashion magazines and websites. Once you know what the latest trends are and what kind of clothing is hot for the season, don’t be afraid to experiment and try out new things. If you’re worried about what your friends and family might think, try wearing the fashions around your house or while running errands. This will give you the freedom to experiment with your style while keeping it to yourself.

Bottom line

Ultimately, the only person who needs to like the way you dress is you! So if you don’t feel confident in your current style, take these 10 tips as advice on how to begin building a personal style that suits you best. Once you feel more comfortable with your style, it’ll be easier to make outfit choices that reflect your personality and mood.

[amoredo-clothing-for-women]

Where Can You Find the Best Deals on Women’s Clothes Online?

The internet has revolutionized shopping, and finding fantastic deals on women’s clothing online has never been easier. But with so many options, it can be overwhelming to know where to start. Fear not, fashionistas!

1. Embrace the Power of Off-Season Shopping:

Savvy shoppers know that the best deals come when trends shift. While everyone’s chasing the latest summer dress in July, be the trendsetter who snags winter coats at rock-bottom prices in August. Amoredo offers a “Season Switcher” feature that lets you browse clothing for the opposite season, ensuring you’re always ahead of the curve and ahead on savings.

2. Befriend the Clearance Rack:

Most online retailers have a dedicated clearance section, a treasure trove of discounted delights. Check these sections regularly, especially around holidays and seasonal transitions. You might discover last season’s must-haves at a fraction of the original price, making you the envy of all your budget-conscious friends. Amoredo’s “Clearance Corner” is your one-stop shop for fabulous finds, with deals that will make your wallet sing.

3. Master the Art of Flash Sales and Coupons:

Subscribe to your favorite retailers’ newsletters and follow them on social media. They often announce flash sales and exclusive coupon codes that can slash prices on everything from dresses to jeans. Amoredo is a pro at surprise sales, so keep an eye out for their “Flash Frenzy” events and get ready to score big!

4. Explore the World of Outlet Stores:

Many popular brands have dedicated online outlet stores where you can find past season’s merchandise at significantly reduced prices. It’s like having access to a secret shopping haven, and with Amoredo’s “Brand Outlet Directory,” you can easily navigate the world of discounted designer delights.

5. Embrace the Power of Second-Hand:

Pre-loved clothing isn’t just sustainable, it’s also a treasure trove of unique finds at unbelievable prices. Platforms like Poshmark and ThredUp offer a vast selection of gently used clothing from all your favorite brands. With Amoredo’s “Second Hand Savvy” guide, you’ll learn how to navigate these platforms and score the perfect pre-loved piece.

6. Don’t Forget the Power of Comparison Shopping:

Before you click “buy,” take a moment to compare prices across different retailers. Tools like Google Shopping and PriceGrabber can be your allies in finding the best deal. Amoredo’s “Price Comparison Tool” makes it even easier, allowing you to compare prices across multiple retailers with just a few clicks.

7. Sign Up for Loyalty Programs:

Many online retailers offer loyalty programs that reward you with points, discounts, and exclusive offers. Amoredo’s “Amoredo Rewards” program is a shopper’s dream, offering points for every purchase, birthday discounts, and early access to sales.

8. Be Patient and Persistent:

Finding the best deals online takes time and dedication. Don’t get discouraged if you don’t stumble upon a steal right away. Be patient, keep checking back, and you’ll eventually unearth the hidden gems that make online shopping so rewarding.

9. Remember, Quality Matters:

While deals are tempting, don’t sacrifice quality for price. Always check reviews and fabric details before making a purchase. Amoredo prides itself on offering high-quality clothing at affordable prices, so you can shop with confidence knowing you’re getting the best of both worlds.

10. Most Importantly, Have Fun!

Shopping online should be a fun and enjoyable experience. So, put on your virtual shopping shoes, embrace the thrill of the hunt, and discover the joy of finding the perfect outfit at an amazing price.

With these tips and tricks, you’ll be a master of finding the best deals on women’s clothes online. Visit “Amoredo” to get the best deals on Women’s clothes Online today!

[australieh]

Jobless in July

I am unemployed again! This time last year I was “fun-employed” as I liked to call it, but this time it’s different. This time it’s not by choice, and it’s not in the summer, and I am not surrounded by my closest friends and family. So it is not so fun. 

Perth is mid-winter right now, meaning gloomy days filled with rain and wind. Everyone wears dark coloured puffer vests and jackets, toques and blundstones. I have to admit it makes me chuckle a bit- these people don’t know what winter is. They all stay inside, except to walk their dogs and buy groceries and go to their jobs. The hospitality industry slows to a crawl because of this, which is why I, a backpacker, cannot get a job for the life of me. Which is why I, unemployed, cycle to the bookstore in a tshirt, passing the dog walkers and grocery buyers all bundled up in their puffy coats. I silently curse these job goers for staying home and putting me out of a job. 

On this bike ride I have a thought that often occurs to me in this neighbourhood, in this city, in this country: I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in here. This upside down, backwards place where July weather makes me want to watch Halloween movies and prepare for Christmas. This neighbourhood which is full of families and 9-5ers, and where I rarely see another person in their 20′s. This city, where I am considered plus size because everyone else seems to be thin and fit and put together. 

I was reminded of this thought quite brutally the week I got back from El Questro. I got called to come in for an interview with a temp agency, and so off I went. I put on my new pants (the ones I had to buy after trying on the only nice pair of pants I brought with me from Canada and finding I could barely button them) and hopped on the train to the city. From the train I trudged 20 minutes up a steep hill, following the hoards of job goers who were walking to lunch; all dressed in identical business clothes. I weaved between them and tried to ignore the feeling of dread pulling at my soul. I had always run away from this world and here I was, marching up a hill to sit and smile nicely and beg to be initiated into it. 

When I got to the office I was shown to the board room and given a glass of water. The young receptionist, blonde and barely 25, handed me four cards with work personality traits on them and told me to choose which one I most identified with. I read through them and tried my best to fit myself into the boxes on the cards; Was I analytical and logical, or a big picture thinker with emotional decision making? My whole life I have been both, and my whole life I have been told to choose one. I rifled between the cards for five minutes before setting them aside.

Ten minutes later the lady I met with promptly, and rather bluntly, ripped apart my resume. She was in her 50′s and mentioned her daughter a few times. She was wearing a turtle neck, a blazer and heeled boots, and she made me want to sit up straight. It felt like meeting with my own mother, and when I told her I hadn’t bought any office clothes yet she tsked and started naming thrift stores in my area where I could find a blazer. I didn’t mention how hard it is to find clothes in my size at the thrift stores in my area, only nodding instead. She never mentioned the personality cards. 

When I left the meeting I sat on a brick garden wall outside the building and thought about how badly I had to pee. I’d felt too embarrassed to ask for the washroom, and mostly I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I snapchatted my friends from El Questro about how dumb I felt for not wearing business clothes to an interview for an office job, and how out of place I felt in the city after 3 months in the bush. Then I walked back towards the train and found a coffee shop busy enough that they wouldn’t notice if I used the toilet without buying anything. 

On the train home I thought about how today wasn’t the first time I’d felt out of place in a city. I don’t know how to stop correlating crowds with nausea, but ever since graduating and travelling that’s how I’ve felt. Being around so many people in such concentrated spaces makes me feel like I am suffocating. That’s how I felt in Edmonton, in Calgary and now in Perth. I look around at all the people wearing the same white sneakers and zip up jackets and I feel sick to my stomach about the state of the world. I see the job goers and dog walkers and grocery shoppers just living their life, same as me, and all I can think is capitalism consumerism landfill nuclear family heteronormativity patriarchy etc etc. It’s my curse as a social sciences studier. 

I know this a dramatic story and I’m sure you're thinking, okay, Raylene. Relax, your life isn’t that bad. And you’d be right! It is actually a very good life, and the thing about me is I am great at seeing both sides. I am logical and I am big picture; detail oriented and creative. I don’t fit into any big box, but there are some little boxes I do fit into. Because I am feeling wordy right now, here are a few:

One absolute sure fire thing, no ifs ands or buts about it, is that I am a Coffee Gal. At least once a week a cappuccino will restore my faith in humanity. I will have a full blown meltdown about what it means to be a member of society in this specific point in history, and then I will cycle to the coffee shop and order a fluffy warm beverage because it’s the only thing I can think of to cure my despair. And it does; that specific combination of steamed milk and espresso is my magic little fix. 

Another solid truth about me, is that I am lazy. Truly and simply, I am a lazy girl. I love to lay in bed and scroll instagram. I love to curl up in the lazy boy I got for free from verge collection and watch movies I’ve already seen. If I am feeling creative I sit in the sunny window in my living room reading or painting. On a night out I will not be on the dance floor, but sitting down at a table with my drink and chit chatting. I like to say I am chill but really, I am just lazy. 

One last truth about me is that I am a fake vegetarian. Largely this is because chicken is so tasty, but it is also because I am so chalk full of contradictions. Everything inside of me wants to go a different way, explore a different feeling, experience a different thing. I guess that’s how I ended up here, isn’t it? Here, in this big city, drinking cappuccinos and cycling past dog walkers after a meltdown about which outfit to wear. I hope I never change.

[ob-se-ss-io-n]

I know it’s July, but hear me out: spending Christmas with John Kramer!! (*♡▽♡*)

Christmas in July!!! I loved writing this; I may have gotten a bit carried away! Thanks for the ask!!

*Christmas with John Kramer:

Christmas is one of the few occasions when John will take time away from his work and actually, genuinely relax. Winter is his favorite time of year, and he enjoys all of the seasonal things that accompany Christmas.

He’s fairly indifferent when it comes to Christmas decorations, but he knows you love them, so every year he handmakes one or two new decorations for you—putting his innovative engineering skills to a very festive use.

He enjoys hanging ornaments with you and reminiscing about the various stories and memories that are attached to each one.

He politely declines your suggestion of matching Christmas pajamas, but he does wear the Frosty slippers you bought for him.

You spend your evenings together; dancing around the living room, forehead-to-forehead, swaying slowly to Christmas music as the fire crackles in the hearth and snow falls lightly outside.

Then you snuggle together into his oversized red armchair as John leafs through the Journal of Civil Engineering and you re-read one of your favorite novels.

On Christmas day, you open your gifts from one another. John values quality over quantity and, when it comes to gifts, he prefers making one or two unique, meaningful things that he’s spent months handcrafting. (If he does buy you something, you can nearly always guarantee that it will be vintage and purposeful.)

The two of you spend the morning in your pajamas, drinking hot chocolate and reading by the fire. It’s nice to have the day to yourselves, and you savor the continuous, uninterrupted time you get to spend with him.

John’s parents died when he was young, and you aren’t very close to your own family, so Christmas is typically just the two of you.

This year, however, you invite all of the apprentices (and Jill) over for Christmas dinner. It’s one of the rare times when they are all able to put aside their differences and enjoy each other’s company. (And, aside from Amanda punching Hoffman in the arm after he stepped on her foot, the evening passes without incident.)

After dinner, you all sit around the fire, drinking hot chocolate and playing charades. No one likes playing with John because he’s so good at reading people.

Jill teases John about the mistletoe hanging over the hearth until he finally gives in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft and you can taste the ghost of apple cider on his breath. The apprentices erupt in cheers and laughter, and you blush as John smiles good-naturedly and winks at you.

The six of you chat idly until Jill falls asleep on Hoffman and Lawrence realizes how late it is and says that Alison and Diana are expecting him home. Everyone exchanges their goodbyes and wishes one another a merry Christmas as they trickle into the hallway and collect their coats and scarves.

John is exhausted by the time everyone leaves, and the two of you decide to save the cleaning until the next day.

He wraps his arms around you and you lean into him, burying your face in his chest and nearly melting as he kisses you on the temple.

You’re falling asleep in his arms when he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom where, thankfully, the bed is already turned down and waiting for you.

When you’re curled up in bed together, you reach over and slip your hand into his. He runs his thumb along your jaw and smiles faintly, his sharp blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

[thorfemmes]

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections​ ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod​ for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!! 

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.  

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans. 

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek. 

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up. 

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor. 

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love. 

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp. 

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!” 

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck. 

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. 

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile. 

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ” 

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it. 

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph. 

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them. 

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion. 

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack! 

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now. 

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table. 

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination. 

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!” 

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped. 

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers. 

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her. 

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace. 

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves. 

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow. 

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them. 

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love. 

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.” 

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks. 

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television. 

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

[zaffrenotes]

[ROD] When You Say Nothing At All

When You Say Nothing At All - 00-00 - You’re All I Want

Series Summary: After Jin and Logan seemingly part ways for good, she heads to the East Coast to begin a new chapter of her life at Langston. While she forgave Logan for The Lie, she was never ready to let him go, and neither is he. Can they repair their relationship with miles between them? Pairing: Logan x MC (Jin) Series Rating/Warnings: 18+; language; series will include ns*w 🍋 scenes Chapter Rating/Warnings: T Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * I had a bonkers idea to write an i-don’t-know-how-many-parts series for @rodappreciationweek that also reflects the Time Capsule challenge * This is an ambitious AU to my Mixtapes Side A & Hidden Track series, where Jin chose Logan. It begins a few months after the canon events in RoD concluded (my Choices math guesstimates July 2018 for this series), and will span roughly 12 years into the future * It will also include prompts from 50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” and a little literary 🥚 for kicks * A/N 2: * I meant to post this earlier for Logan's Day, but like everything else I write it got away from me * Includes a very old Friends/Joey prompt from @ofpixelsandscribbles * chapter title is from a Cigarettes After Sex track * Word Count: ±1000 (4 minutes reading time)

Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed for updates on this series): @ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @choicesarehard @client-327 @queenjilian @saivilo @its-all-about-rod @bitchloveskcbaseball @lovehugsandcandy @troublemakerinspace

2019

Logan took all of Jin’s words to heart, keeping the phone tucked away in a lockbox. He added the key to a new chain around his neck, not only for safekeeping, but to remind himself of what he was working towards. Days passed into weeks, then months; Logan only noticed the passage of time by the weather. He had to buy a real coat to keep himself warm, and decent boots to keep slushy, snowy pathways from freezing his toes.

He tried writing letters to Jin, only to burn the half-inked pages over the stove, messy words curling and fading into the air. Dozens of e-mails mocked him from a screen, clumsy apologies disappearing into the void with a few abrupt taps. Every time he tried to get the words out, it didn’t feel like it was enough.

By March, Logan was absolutely miserable. Winter had been a good excuse to ignore how long his hair had grown out, hidden under knit caps and beanies, or tied back in ponytails. His usually high-maintenance locks morphed into a mess of natural curls and waves as a result. The somewhat scrappy beard that appeared on his face protected him from biting Chicago winds as he commuted to and from work on the train, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep it when the weather eventually warmed up.

The garage where he lined up a job didn’t ask too many questions; most of the guys were in AA and could tell he had his own demons to deal with. The owner knew someone from Logan’s old crew in Detroit and put in a good word for him. The place was just a few blocks from the L, and after a week of navigating his beloved Devore through the pasta strainer streets of downtown Chicago, taking the train actually worked out to be kinder to his wallet.

He woke up one morning, completely disgusted with his appearance. Even though it was his day off and he had no plans, Logan made his way to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed the electric clippers from one of the drawers and trimmed his beard down as short as he could, letting the wiry black hair collect in the sink as his jawline slowly unsurfaced with each pass. He scooped the hair into the trash before taking a long shower. The hot water soaked through the mess of curls in his hair and down his back, rivulets splitting and reconnecting down his legs as they made their way to the drain.

Showered and dressed, he set to work cleaning up the small studio space that he called home, tossing out old takeout and empty pizza boxes. He organized his small collection of books in a crate, taking care to set the book Jin had given to him on top. After lunch, Logan stripped the sheets and pillows of their bedding and stuffed them into a duffel bag along with his dirty clothes, making his way to a laundromat.

Once his laundry was washed and dried, Logan stuffed everything back into the duffel bag and tossed it into the back seat of his trusty Devore, before walking a few yards away to the strip mall barbershop. He exchanged a silent chin nod greeting with his barber, who was working on another customer, and grabbed an empty seat. As he tapped through apps on his phone to read the news and look at memes, he listened to the conversations happening around him. Two older men were jokingly giving each other a hard time as they played cards, while a small group of teens jumped from sports to comics to discussing dates for an upcoming dance. He wondered if Jin had gone to any dances since prom, and his heart twinged at the thought of her dancing with someone else.

When his barber eventually called his name, Logan rose from the faded vinyl seat and pulled the knit cap off his head as he approached the empty chair. They exchanged pleasantries, not without some teasing about his disheveled appearance since his last visit before the leaves had changed colors. As his barber worked on making him look more like a young man and less like someone who’d been raised by wolves, conversation drifted between work, racing, and girls.

All of Logan’s responses were short by nature; his work involved tune-ups and oil changes. He’d done a little racing on the side for extra cash until it got too cold and the roads were too slick. He could race under any conditions, but black ice was one of the few things he wouldn’t go up against. As for befriending someone of the fairer sex, he shrugged his shoulders in between hair snips.

“Girl problems, son?” The barber at the station to Logan’s left had chimed in to the conversation. “You’re too young to have a broken heart.”

“She was one in a million,” Logan replied, glancing over to the elder man. “No one else shines as bright as she does. What am I gonna do? I keep trying to get rid of these feelings, but they’re just…there.”

“She tell you what she needs to fix it?”

“I know what it’d take,” Logan huffed. “I just…I can’t really give that to her right now.” How can he be in her life when he’s nearly one thousand miles away?

“Why the hell not, son? Seventeen years with my missus has taught me you end up somewhere between option A and option B. If she’s the one, find a way to meet halfway.”

The conversation ended when the card game sparked a disagreement, diverting attention to the noise at the front of the shop. Something clicked in Logan’s brain, and once his barber finished up, he left the barbershop, heading home with renewed hope.

[writinghistorylit]

Women’s History Month

Margaret Palm-African-American History-Civil War

Margaret Palm lived in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, along with 190 other free African-Americans, making up about 8% of the town’s population.  She rented a white shack on the west end of Emmitsburg Road, and lived there with her husband, Alf Palm and their one child.

During the months leading up to the Battle of Gettysburg, African-American members of the Gettysburg community began fleeing their homes for fear that their freedom and safety would be in jeopardy, once the Confederate army invaded their little town.

There are many stories that surround the persona of “Mag Palm”, as she was called, some perhaps mere legends passed on by other civilians over the years. One legend refers to Mag as “Maggie Bluecoat”, referring to the story that she wore a blue coat of an officer of the War of 1812, and carried a musket while aiding other slaves in their fight for freedom from slavery.

One account, however, of an attempted kidnapping of Mag Palm by two local men is well known and well documented. Many free African-Americans were often victims of kidnapping by their own white neighbors, often to be sold off to Southerners for slavery.

Like the majority of African-American women in the Gettysburg community during the Civil War years, Mag made a hard living by scrubbing floors and washing the clothes of her white neighbors. One cold winter night in 1858, three years before the war even began, upon returning home from picking up her pay from one of her employers, Mag was attacked by two men who tried to tie her hands and take her away. . Mag managed to fight both men off with the help of another neighbor, John Karseen, a store owner in town, who witnessed the attack. Years later Mag Palm was photographed demonstrating how the men bound her hands and documented the attack for history. 

During the battle, her home on Emmitsburg Road was occupied by the Union army and eventually destroyed in the fighting on the last day of the Battle of Gettysburg, July 3, 1863. Despite hardships in her own marriage, as her husband drank and was often prone to fits of rage, she managed to buy her own home again along Long Lane, a black community in the town, after the battle was finally over. She continued to struggle financially and was never able to stop beating rugs and scrubbing floors for a living.

Mag Palm passed away in October of 1896 from a heart ailment. She was buried in the Lincoln Cemetery in Gettysburg, among many other African-American civilians of the town.  Her courageous story of struggle and survival is only one of the many forgotten African-American civilian stories of the women who lived and survived the battles fought right in their own communities, during the Civil War.

[aliasimagines]

requested by anon

HI! If it’s not too late could you do 68 from the winter prompt for Luke Patterson?

prompt from this list

word counts: 962

Luke is not the type of person to worry or be nervous. He usually trusted his feelings and acted on them without giving it a second thought. So when the idea of marriage popped up he didn’t think he just straight up called zhe band so they could all help him buy a ring.

Julie was super excited, already coming up with decoration ideas for the wedding, Reggie -much like Julie- was excited too, fistbumping and hugging the guitarist and on the other hand there is Alex who was worrying instead of Luke too.

“Dude, you are not even like..nervous? At all?” Alex kept rambling throughout the whole ride. 

“Bro,no. I mean, what for should I feel nervous? I know I love Y/N, I know I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Why wait?” 

“Awww…” Julie and Reggie both did a little dance in the backseat of Luke’s car. 

“I just have to find the perfect ring for her.”

So that’s what they did. They spent the whole day going from one store to another when Luke finally found the one.

Luckily you were working today so you didn’t notice Luke’s absence from your shared apartment. He’ll be home before you are so he doesn’t even have to think up a lie. But he does have to think of where and how he will propose, because when he brought up his idea of not making it a big deal just asking your hand after movies or something Julie absolutely freak.

“No, Lucas! You have to make it special. Fancy dinner with foods you can’t even pronounce the names of. And..”

Luke doesn’t actually remember the rest because he zoned out. Julie is right, not about the dinner, there's no way you would like that, neither of you are fans of that scene. But she is right about making it special. As much as he is excited about it and just wants to do it right away, he knows you’ll appreciate his effort.

It’s been a few days since he got the ring and he has been working on his plan ever since and the best part was that you had no idea! Although it was hard to keep something away from you he knows it’s worth it.

    Finally saturday came around and everything seemed to go according to his plan. He consulted with his friends like every 5 minutes either to gush about his excitement or to give them an update. 

He started the day by bringing you breakfast in bed, it’s a sweet gesture but not a dead giveaway. Then he had a hard time masking his happiness when he saw the white snowflakes starting to fall lazily outside. He really hoped it would snow.

Next he suggested watching a few movies in the pillowfort he made while ordering out from your fave food place. You loved the idea but again didn’t think much of it, just enjoyed cuddling with your (for now) boyfriend.

“I love having these kind of days with you, Lu.” you smile at him.

“And I love you.” he placed a small kiss on top of your head before getting up off the couch.

“Hey,I figured we could go on a walk? It doesn’t snow everyday here.”

“Oh my god, Luke, that’s a great idea. Let me grab my coat and we can go.”

Luke put on his beanie and coat too, making sure to zip up his pocket where he put the ring. It was starting to get darker outside as the two of you stepped out of the door.

There was a good 2 or 3 inch of snow covering everything thanks to it slowing all day. You felt Luke’s fingers intervening with yours. You sent a smile his way.

“Everything is so beautiful.” you gestured to the snow covered trees and street lamps with your free hand.

“Not as beautiful as you, Y/N.” 

“You are particularly cheezy today. What’s up?” you asked, trying to hide your face in your scarf.

“Nothing, I just love you so much.” Luke said, earning a small kiss from you.

“And I love you too. So much.”

Grinning Luke, pulled you towards the park entry. 

It took a few seconds for you to notice the fairy lights hanging on the snow covered trees  but when you did you turned to Luke with your mouth agape. 

“Luke..”

He just flashed a mysterious smile and stepped away from you to grab the acoustic guitar that’s been waiting by the tree.

“What..”

“I wrote you a song.Do you wanna hear it?”

It was totally unnecessary to ask, of course you wanted to hear it. 

“Yes, yes! Of course babe.” 

Luke started to play the first chords you already felt emotional. And then he started singing those beautiful lyrics, he wrote a song about your relationship from beginning to now. He sang about how you met, how you helped each other through tough times. Needless to say you were already in tears when he ended the song.

You went to hug him as soon as he put down the guitar but when you tried to do so he put his hand up.

“Wait. I have something else too.”

And that’s when he got down on one knee. You completely froze, just stared at Luke with your eyes wide open and your heart racing faster than a racehorse.

“Y/N..you’re- You are my everything. From day one I knew you were the one. I just can’t imagine my life without you,so...Y/N Y/L will you marry me?”

“Yes, YES, oh my god of course yes!” your tears were everywhere and íluke slipped the ring on your finger before kissing you.

[something-in-the-seas]

Infinite Rewrite Part 3: Columbia or why it’s snowing in July

- Okay, let’s get something right out of the way: it’s cold as hell in Columbia, even in July. If they’re ported in Maine, which averages around 70 degrees in July, it will be about 17.5 degrees up in Columbia with the altitude they’re at. Even at the hottest OG port, which would be Savannah, Georgia at 93 degrees, it would be only 39 degrees in Columbia.

- To put things in perspective, the temperature in Columbia when Infinite starts is ten degrees colder than the night the Titanic sunk. Battleship Bay’s existence is already bizarre, but it would have to be enclosed and artificially heated or else everyone would freeze to death in a matter of minutes.

- In the winter months, Columbia moves down the Atlantic to Florida and Georgia. Orlando at 102 degrees makes it 49.5 degrees in Columbia. So much better than New York’s 33 degrees making it -21.5 degrees.

- Ice skating is very popular in Columbia. Early Air Grabbers used by the Vox were, in fact, made out of old ice skates. The Delaware is a highly popular ice skating rink while Battleship Bay acts as a tropical resort for those wanting to escape the never ending winter.

- I’d say that Finkton is actually one of the warmer places in the city with greenhouses, factories, and the gun shop. It doesn’t stop hypothermia but some lucky souls do get a quick reprieve.

- Chen Lin’s shop is by far the warmest spot save for The Good Time Club and there are a lot of people just hanging around by the fires. It’s dangerous, but the Lins’ don’t have the heart to tell them to leave, especially with parents desperate to get their children warm.

- Fashion in Columbia is winter-based. It definitely has a winter wonderland feel, everything feels like an old time Christmas card, until you discover the horrific truth. Upper-class women such as Elizabeth wear outfits like this:

- It would be snowing in July when Booker arrives in Columbia, and after being exposed to the elements without any protection, he quickly gets hypothermia by the time he encounters Elizabeth. With no money to afford a coat and hunted down by Comstock, Elizabeth leaves him behind to be found by the Vox. He is then nursed back to health in Shantytown by Sally née Dawson O’Callaghan, an old friend of his.

- Due to the cold, food is especially scarce for those in Shantytown. You can buy what you can afford to get, which is very little on the unstable, low pay Fink gives. Anyone found smuggling out of the Finkton greenhouses or slaughterhouses faces heavy beatings, fines, blacklisting, and in some cases death.

- Sickness runs rampant in Shantytown, children and babies, often starve, freeze, or die of pneumonia. Sometimes, it’s all three. Limbs are lost not just due to accidents with machinery but frost bite. Sally has lost four out of her eight children, and as Booker recovers from his injuries, Sally’s youngest surviving child falls deathly ill with a fever. She has no choice but to give her daughter to Finkton doctors, who promise they can ‘heal’ her.

- A lot of Christmas/Nativity imagery since it goes hand and hand with Jesus and Mary imagery. The Founders are essentially living an old time Christmas card everyday, they’re waiting for the birth of the Deliverer so it’s like a never ending Advent.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter three

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rated: E for drug use and sex scenes

AO3 LINK

*

“Bec?” 

Beca hummed absentmindedly, blinking out of her daze and twisting her head in the direction of the voice. 

Sarah smiled gently as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. She cocked an eyebrow, giving a pointed look towards the sink. “I think the pan is clean.” 

Beca glanced down, stilling her movements. She had been scrubbing that pan for probably ten minutes now, her thoughts completely consumed by Chloe and what she was supposed to do next. 

Chloe clearly didn’t want to see her, and Beca wasn’t going to wait by the phone when it was clear that Chloe was far from okay. She was thinner than Beca remembered, and the look in her eye, the lack of light in those once bright blues, chilled Beca to the bone. 

She looked… broken. As though her spirit had repeatedly been battered until all that was left were mere pieces of her old self. 

If there were any left at all.

Beca couldn’t stand the thought of not doing anything, and she needed to come up with a plan to help Chloe without driving her into a corner and risk losing her forever. 

“What’s going on?” Sarah questioned, pushing off the doorframe and padding over. She rested her hand between Beca’s shoulder blades, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “You’ve seemed off today.” 

Beca released a sigh, setting the pan down into the sink and reaching for the dishtowel laying next to her on the counter to dry her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just… worried about a friend.” 

Sarah nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Sarah was unexpected, to say the least. Beca was a workaholic, and her career was too time-consuming for her to get into the whole dating thing. But Sarah, who happened to work as a barista in Beca’s favorite independent coffee shop, had somehow managed to convince Beca to go out with her. One dinner surprisingly turned into a second date, then a third, and it just like that, it had been almost a year since they officially got together. 

Sarah was gentle, patient, understanding, overflowing with positivity, but most of all, incredibly kind. She reminded Beca of Chloe, sometimes. And maybe it was those similar personality traits that drew Beca to her in the first place. 

They didn’t live together. Beca could feel that it was the next expected step on her girlfriend’s end, but she didn’t feel ready to commit, yet. She liked her own space, her solitude. So Sarah spent a few nights a week at Beca’s place, like tonight, and Beca was fine with that. 

“Not really,” she replied, casting Sarah an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just-- complicated right now.” 

“You need to stop apologizing,” Sarah murmured, her expression soft and loving. Beca let her shoulders sag, ready to apologize again. “I understand. But if you do change your mind and need to let something off your chest, I’m here.” 

Beca nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Are you coming to bed?” 

“Not yet, I wanna get some work done, first.” She leaned in to peck Sarah’s lips. “You go ahead, I’ll join you soon.” 

Walking across the living room and past the huge floor to ceiling windows looking over Central Park, Beca made her way to her home office, her happy place. She had bought the Manhattan condo two years ago, making it a requirement during her house-hunt to have a large room with plenty of light and enough space to store all her records and her music equipment. It was also where she kept her Grammys and other prizes, away from the attention as nobody really stepped into her office.

She usually popped a blues album on the record player, enjoying the soothing instrumentals while she replied to various emails, but not tonight. Tonight, she grabbed a yellow legal notepad and her headphones from her desk and curled up on the leather couch tucked in the far corner, then scrolled to her Spotify playlists until she found the one she was looking for. 

she is magic

Beca couldn’t remember the last time she had listened to her Chloe playlist, one she had made back in Barden when she was hopelessly in love with her best friend. They were songs that reminded her of Chloe, or songs that Chloe liked. Or used to like, at least. 

As lyrics she knew so well poured into her headphones, blocking out the rest of the world, different ones flowed out of Beca’s heart, materializing on the paper in front of her in black ink as she scribbled across the page. Lyrics about friendship, unrequited love, and regrets for listening to her brain and not her heart all these years ago. 

It was pushing on two am by the time Beca called it a night. Her eyes burned, her mind felt mushy, but her soul felt a tiny bit lighter. Music had always been her therapy, and writing songs had always proved more efficient than paying a licensed professional, even though it had been years since Beca had last finished one, for lack of inspiration. 

Or rather, because of the absence of her muse. 

*

She woke up five hours later to a stiff neck and sore back, the bright sunlight pouring in from the windows lining one of her office walls drawing her from her sleep. She had meant to go to bed, before deciding to close her eyes for five minutes right on the couch. 

Straightening with a groan, she grabbed her phone and turned it over, hoping to see a text from an unknown number on her screen. 

Aubrey Posen [6:23am]

Any news? 

Aubrey Posen [6:37am]

Should I come to New York? 

Aubrey practiced family law up in Boston. She and Beca saw each other a few times a year, whenever Aubrey was in the city. Bella reunions were a bit more scarce now, with the girls being scattered all around the country. Their last one dated back to a year and a half ago, on the Fourth of July. 

Beca ran a hand over her face and heaved out a sigh, swiping her thumb across the screen to unlock it. 

Beca [7:16am]

No news yet. I think I’m gonna wait a few days before I head back to the club, if she doesn’t call in the meantime that is. The manager gave me serious sleazy vibes and I’m sure he could blacklist me if I’m too insistent. I don’t think there’s any need for you to come down for now. I’ll keep you posted. 

Hitting send, Beca pushed to her feet and shuffled out of her office, hanging a left down the hall towards the kitchen. A note next to her coffee thermos sat on the island. 

Missed you last night, but I hope you got whatever you needed done. I had to leave for my shift, you’re welcome to swing by for your second coffee of the day and your morning kiss ;) have a good day!

Sarah xx

Guilt swooped in over picking old feelings about an ex-almost over her girlfriend, and Beca let her head hang forward, releasing a grown. She was far from an expert at this relationship thing, but she cared about Sarah a lot and didn’t want to mess that up. 

Beca shook off the sleepiness lingering in her bones and the stiffness in her muscles with a long, hot shower, then got ready for her day. She usually got to the office at 8 sharp, but it was already 7:54 by the time she was out the door, and her commute lasted about twenty minutes, so she wouldn’t get the chance to stop by Sarah’s workplace. 

To: Sarah 

I’m sorry, I got caught up in work last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch around 2. Come over tonight? I’ll cook dinner. Have a good shift.

Her morning was spent in the studio canning vocals for girl in red’s new album, a project Beca was stocked about as she was BMLJ’s most promising artist for this year’s Grammy Awards. 

“That was awesome, Marie,” Beca spoke into the microphone, giving her a thumbs-up through the glass. “Let’s take a lunch break and resume in an hour?” 

“Sounds good,” the younger woman agreed with a smile as she took off her headphones. 

Beca headed back to her office down the hall and checked her phone for any new messages (finding none important), before shrugging on her thick winter coat and screwing her beanie over her head. 

“I’ll be back in an hour, Gina!” She told her assistant on route to the elevator. 

As Sarah’s workplace was just five blocks south from the label, Beca figured she would eat lunch there as she wasn’t able to stop by that morning. She stopped in the convenience store across the street from the coffee shop to buy Sarah her favorite magazine as she knew her break was coming up soon and she’d have something to read. 

Beca was scanning the press stand for that specific magazine, not paying attention to the person walking into the store until they spoke. 

“A pack of Marlboro, please.” 

Beca would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up so fast she felt something in her neck pull, and she was rounding the stand before she even registered giving her feet the order to move. “Chloe?” 

Chloe glanced over to her right and froze for a second, before fishing for a twenty in her jacket pocket and handing it to the cashier. “Are you following me or something?” 

Given their last encounter, Beca wasn’t surprised by Chloe’s snark, so she gave as good as she got. “You came in after I did, so maybe I should ask you that question.” 

Chloe stuffed the cigarette pack and the change into her pocket. “What do you want, Beca?” 

“To talk,” she replied, softly. “One coffee, that’s it. And if you decide you really don’t want me in your life, then I won’t bother you again. I promise.” 

Chloe seemed to ponder on that for a few beats. “One coffee.” 

“There’s a shop right across the street.” 

Taking her to the place her girlfriend worked at? Probably not the brightest idea, but she was afraid Chloe might go back on her decision if they spent too long finding someplace else. 

When Chloe nodded, Beca took the lead and stepped outside, forgetting all about that magazine as she racked her brain about what she should say. Tactfulness wasn’t her greatest suit; Aubrey would be so much better at this. 

They stepped inside Devocion and Beca picked a table in the corner, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of her chair. Chloe kept her jacket and beanie on, a bit hunched on herself as she sat down in the chair opposite Beca’s. 

“Beca?” 

Beca glanced towards Sarah as she approached, wearing a waist apron with the café logo on it. Her dark blonde hair was woven back in a French braid, a few strands escaping, and curiosity swirled in her green eyes as they flickered to Chloe. 

Okay, in hindsight, bringing Chloe here was a terrible idea. 

“Hey, um, Sarah, this is Chloe, a friend from college.” She cleared her throat. “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Sarah.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Sarah replied brightly, her smile fading a little when all Chloe offered was a distant nod. Sarah met Beca’s gaze briefly, clearing her throat. “What can I get you guys?” 

“My usual. You want anything to eat, Chlo?” 

The nickname rolled off her tongue so naturally, Beca didn’t even catch it. 

Chloe shook her head. “Just a black coffee.” 

“Coming right up.” 

“Thanks,” Beca said as Sarah spun around on her heels, her focus shifting to Chloe. “So um, I wanted to apologize for the other day and putting you on the spot at the club. I just… wasn’t sure how else to talk to you.” 

“I can give you some of the money back if you need it.” 

Beca furrowed her brow, not having expected that. “No, no. I… it’s fine. I don’t care about money.” 

Something flashed in Chloe’s eyes at that, something Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Sarah came back with two coffees before she could analyze it further, setting the mugs down on the table. “Your club sandwich will be here in a few, babe.” 

Beca nodded, casting her a small, appreciative smile. 

Chloe straightened a bit in her seat, cradling the mug with both hands. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say or do, Beca.” 

Beca licked her lips. “I was hoping we could… hang out from time to time. I’ve missed you, Chlo. So has Aubrey.” 

The mention of Aubrey made Chloe lookup. “Does she live in New York, too?” 

“Um no, in Boston. She’s a lawyer. But she’d come down to have coffee, or lunch, or whatever you feel like doing. In a heartbeat.” 

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

What little hope flared in the pit of Beca’s belly upon Chloe showing interest in Aubrey’s life vanished. “Why not?” 

“I told you. I’m not the same person anymore. I’m-- I’m not…” 

Beca tilted her head to the side. “You’re not what?” She pressed gently. 

Chloe’s gaze fleeted out the window as her rather calm demeanor now radiated agitation. Her knee started bouncing and her fingers tightened around the mug, and it was as though Chloe was battling against her own thoughts. 

She was itching to reach across the table to rest her hand over her wrist in a sort of grounding gesture, but something told her that would have the opposite effect. 

“Chloe?” Beca attempted once more, her voice as soft as she could muster, as it seemed like Chloe was on the brink of bolting. 

The tear slipping out of Chloe’s eye tore her heart into two. “I-I have to go.” 

Her chair screeched as she pushed it back roughly, and she was nearly out the door by the time Beca scrambled to her feet. 

It was lunch-hour rush in one of the busiest avenues in Manhattan, and Chloe had already disappeared in the crowd when she reached the exit, leaving Beca to helplessly wonder how someone like Chloe, once the epitome of sunshine, got herself trapped in so much darkness.