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darklydeliciousdesires · 5 months ago

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Light on the Darkside - Chapter Five.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,037

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“Well, I have to say I’m pleased with your progress, James. Lately, you’ve appeared brighter, although there are a few issues we need to iron out with your behaviour towards authority. I need not remind you that you must do as the orderlies ask of you. I hear you’ve made a friend as well, which is very positive. I must note though, despite all this good work, you don’t appear to be all too chipper today. Shall we discuss that?”

“Nah.”

It was one step forward and two steps back with this young man half the time, Dr. Beaumont thought, watching him slumped down in the chair before her. His long legs were stretched out, his hoodie pulled up to partially conceal his face. That was one of the little tell-tale signs with his mood, she’d noticed. If it was bad, he had a tendency to hide within it.

“James, we cannot progress in your therapy if you continue to bottle up these feelings. It is much more conducive to your recovery to get them out.”

Chewing his lip, he shrugged, eyes not moving away from the window to meet hers as he began to frown. “Don’t wanna progress. It’d just be easier if I weren’t here at all. It’s all total bullshit, innit.”

Oh, he was back there again, emotionally absconded to his depressive void. “And what is it that’s brought this on?”

“Stuff.”

“An elaboration would be helpful to me, James. I can’t help you if you continually refuse to open up to me. This is very frustrating, given all the recent progress you’ve been making,” she tried, her tone firm but gentle.

Truly, there was only one person he wanted to tell. The person who didn’t study him like a lab rat while scribbling notes, the person who knew only too well how that felt. He shut down completely for the rest of his therapy session, and although she did not want to reward such, his recent good behaviour had earned him something she couldn’t take off the table. It could likely make him worse if she did, she reasoned.

“Well, although our session has not moved forward in the way I’d hoped, I can tell you that due to your recent improved behaviour, we’ve decided to give you grounds privileges.”

“Cheers for that.” His tone might’ve still been flat, but he was out of his seat like a shot in order to go and enjoy them, she guessed. Perhaps such might make him open up more during their next session, give a little back for the reward he’d been handed. She could only hope.

“Oi, little,” he called upon arriving at the common room door. “Wanna come for a walk?”

Ella’s head shot up from where she was sitting with Andrea and Emma, a new girl admitted for symptoms much matching his own. “What, you can actually go outside?”

“Yup.”

“Ahh, cool beans! Let’s go!”

Turning, Andrea pulled a kissy face at him. “Can I come, too? I know all the spots we can hide and have a bit of fun.”

“Andrea,” Tracy warned, shaking her head, “that’s one.”

“Not in the mood, Andrea,” James spoke, frowning.

“Moody bloody goth,” she tutted.

“Slag.”

“James! You’ll have those grounds privileges revoked if you carry on with that mouth,” Tracy warned him, being met with an eyeroll as Ella arrived with him, giving him a little poke in the chest with her finger.

“Stop being a dickhead, church burner,” she warned lightly, her joke falling very flat, his face remaining sullen. God, he looked so gorgeous when he was grumpy. Well, to Ella he looked gorgeous all the time, but she kept that to herself. There was absolutely no way somebody like him would ever fancy her. “What’s up?”

“Tell you in a bit.”

Accepting that, they neared the doors, both having to sign out in the book on their way before James stepped into his first taste of semi-freedom in three months. The fresh air felt great, the sunshine warm on his face, taking a deep breath he held before exhaling it slowly. He still felt shit, but being outside made it a little better, as did the nudge at his side. Opening his eyes, he saw a cigarette offered to him, Ella lighting her own before handing over her lighter.

He took a long drag, inhaling, feeling his nerves buzz. “Shitting hell, that’s better.” There were several rolling banks undulating the grounds, the pair walking down to the second before taking a seat on the neatly mown grass, James lying back while Ella sat with her knees drawn up at his side.

“So, why isn’t my BFG a happy camper?” BFG to her stood for big friendly goth. It had made him laugh, the first time she’d coined it a few days prior. Sadly, at that moment it had no similar effect whatsoever.

“I called Steve yesterday, and he was playing me rough recordings of songs he’d been working on. Did the guitar bits himself, and it sounded way better than anything I could have come up with. So like, what’s the bloody point? He can do a better job than I can, so I might as well not even be here. The band don’t need me, so fuck it. It was the only thing getting me through, innit. Fucking, yeah. That’s it.”

How perilous it was, the seesaw between hope and hopelessness James sat himself upon. “If Steve was that brilliant on guitar, then like, why were you even there at all to begin with? Because you’re obviously talented, and a vital part of Nocturnal Descent. Stop being silly. You’ve been so much better over the last three weeks. Surely, you’re not going to let a little bleedin’ thing like this set you back?”

He sighed, taking another long drag on his cigarette. “Ella, if I still feel like this when I’m up to my eyeballs in medication, then what fucking hope do I have?”

“None if you let the intrusive thoughts win,” she shrugged, reaching to stroke his arm fondly. “You can’t just like, let the medication do it all. You have to put some effort in, too.” Pausing, she considered her next words carefully. “Okay, so like, I’d get it if Steve had told you that they didn’t need you back, and that him, Snedders, Gaz and Dan were carrying on as a four piece without you, but he didn’t. This whole ‘nobody would miss me if I wasn’t here’ thing you have going on only exists in your head. It isn’t the truth.”

“Ain’t it?” he snorted, frown deepening.

“No!” she cried, waving her hands around. “By all accounts, your mates love you to death, so do your sister and your dad. Your mum, too, even though she’s a bit of a pain in the arse from what you’ve told me. So many people would miss you!” Pausing, she curled into herself more, dropping her gaze from the stormy grey of his eyes, turning her head to look out over the grounds. “I’d miss you, if you weren’t here. I’d really fucking miss you.”

How fond she’d truly grown of him in those short few weeks they’d begun to lean upon one another.

Continuing to look out at where the sunshine illuminated the grass, listening to the sound of the birds tweeting in the many tall trees dotted around the grounds, she felt like she hadn’t been heard for a few moments. A nervous feeling crept over her, heat rising in her cheeks, her arms tingling. Was that the wrong thing to say, to lament how much she’d miss him if he was gone? She realised it wasn’t when his hand met the bottom of her back, beginning to stroke where her long-sleeved t shirt had ridden up a little.

Watching where he flicked his finished cigarette past her, it smouldered to nothing in the grass, Ella stubbing her own out and turning to him with a little smile. Finally, he returned it.

“Come here, little. Give us a hug.” Resting her head to his chest, it slipped to his arm as he turned onto his side, enveloping her, pushing a strong thigh between hers. Comfort. Support. Someone who listened, and oh, how they’d found it in each other.

Closing her eyes, Ella burrowed her face against his chest, curling into him completely, her hand stroking over his pectoral muscle. Solid as rock. She bet he looked amazing under his t shirt. Pity she’d never likely find that out first hand. Oh, if only she knew what was going on in James’s brain right at that second as he held her close, feeling his insides beginning to spark.

“Oh, shitting hell. Don’t fucking kiss her, don’t do it, man. Seriously, ain’t gonna lead anywhere good... but fuck, at least I know my meds haven’t fucked with my sex drive now. Fucks sake! Can’t even think about that, I’d break her, she’s so tiny. Fucking shatter her pelvis to pieces, innit. Nah, don’t do it. It’ll make everything even more complicated. But shit, I want her badly.”

Meanwhile, Ella’s thoughts were much less of a maelstrom.

“God, I wish he’d kiss me. Bet I’m not pretty enough for him, though. He probably likes all those gorgeous goth girls who look like Morticia Addams.”

She didn’t dare look up at him, because she knew she’d do something stupid like kiss him, and the embarrassment of having him let her down wasn’t something she could deal with in her present state.

Why was life so unfair?

The silence they shared was a lot less comfortable than an outsider would likely think it looked. Although their brains shouted utter nonsense at them, bodily, curled up together, they were nothing but content.

“How’d you feel now?” Ella finally asked, her voice small, a little shy, even.

“Better, you know,” he confessed, thumb idly stroking her shoulder. “Always am when you’re around.”

She smiled. “I am the death repellent.”

“Kinda,” he sniffed. “Still wanna die, just a lot less. I dunno, you make sense of my thoughts when they’re all jumbled up. Not all of them, but most, innit.” He definitely couldn’t say what had begun creeping over him as he held her was helped by her at all. Oh no. She was the catalyst there.

The comfort of having her so close sadly didn’t outweigh the way his thoughts spiralled out of control, the flourish of desire for her mixed with his depressive episode not a good fit. Turning away, he resumed lying on his back, keeping one arm around her, the other reaching to pick at one of the rips on his jeans.

“Ahh, that’s it, then,” she thought, sitting up and curling her knees to her chest once more. “He had the perfect chance to kiss me just then, if he wanted to. We’re just mates and nothing else.”

“Looking all glum over there, little,” he noted, propping himself up on his elbows as he squinted against the sun. “Selfish dickhead, it’s my turn to be moody, not yours.”

“Shut your hole, church burner.”

Finally, he laughed. He’d never cease to find that funny.

They remained outside for another cigarette, chatting casually before heading back inside. Parting ways at the stairs, James revealed he was in need of a nap, telling her he’d catch up with her later that evening after dinner. Ella cut a sad little figure as she walked back to the common room alone.

He swung the door shut behind him, kicking off his boots and collapsing face first onto the bed, groaning long and low into the pillow.

“Not now, man. Get your head right before you start thinking about women. Don’t drag someone as lovely as her into your shit. She’s got her own issues without you trying to poke your dick in her.”

The part of his brain that had those staunch words with himself sadly went in stark contrast with the part that conjured the dream he found himself in after falling asleep, James unsure whether he actually was dreaming, it felt so real. If it wasn’t real, then he had no idea how he could feel the exact intensity and pleasure of receiving a blowjob if it wasn’t actually happening.

“Oi, you’re about to get us in a fuckload of trouble, little,” he told Ella, rumbling a chuckle as he looked down, watching his cock sliding back out from within the deep suck of her pretty mouth.

“As if you’re complaining about me sucking your dick,” she winked, her hand taking over as her lips pressed a kiss against the deep line of muscle creasing his hip. “Got a bleedin’ nerve, BFG.”

“Nah, I ain’t complaining at all,” he began, groaning when her mouth moved to swallow him back once more. Fuck, she was good. “It's just that checks are every fifteen minutes and I dunno how long ago the last one was. Doesn’t give us a lot of time.”

“Don’t need a lot of time. Trust me.” God, she wasn’t wrong, her mouth continuing to glide, her tongue pressing into the thick vein engorging his shaft, his hands moving to tangle in her hair. His chest began to heave, tingles rushing, gritting as with a soft curse, he came deep in her throat.

His head shot up off the pillow, wide awake and incredibly horny from the dream he’d just had, sighing and flopping down again. Nope. This couldn’t be anything he actively pursued. He knew himself and he knew he simply wasn’t well enough to begin letting thoughts creep in about women.

It didn’t stop them from doing so, though. And still, he couldn’t keep away from her, didn’t want to although he knew deep down that he probably should.

“What are you doing, princess?” he asked, lying on the sofa with his head in her lap the following afternoon.

“A little plait,” she replied, taking the strands of his beautiful hair and showing him. His hair was ridiculous. Part of hers had started falling out from her lack of eating, quite thin in comparison to how it used to be. James’s was like spun silk, very thick and now past his waist in length. Total dream hair.

“You fucking better not be making me look like Pocahontas!”

His barked statement made her snort with giggles. “No, I’ll undo it again in a bit. I just need something to fiddle with.”

“I don’t mind really,” he began, “you girls seem to have a thing for my hair. It looks shit right now, though. Brown roots ain’t a good look.”

She pointed to her own head. “Yep, with you there big time! I hate that they won’t let me bleach it. It’s pants, not cool beans by far. Someone like me needs as much as she can to look pretty!”

He arched an eyebrow, his lip curling. “What the shitting hell do you mean, someone like you?”

“You know,” she shrugged, coming to the end of the thin plait and twirling it around her finger before unpicking it again. “I’m not pretty.”

“Like fuck, you’re not,” he snorted. Again, she shrugged. “Do I need to have a few words with you about this, Ells bells?”

Ells bells, that was a new one. “You’re just being nice to make me feel better.”

“James isn’t ever nice unless he really means it,” Andrea spoke from behind the pages of Heat magazine, her ears picking up on everything as usual before offering her standard succinct commentary.

“And that’s the truth right there,” he stated, pointing at where Andrea sat cross legged opposite them on the other sofa. “Oh, sorry for calling you a slag. Didn’t mean it.”

“You did, and I am.” Lowering the magazine, the corner of her mouth curled up a little bit. “Appreciated, though.”

Turning his attention back to Ella, he shook his head, reaching for her face. “Fucking kills me, innit. How you don’t see what I do. Total fucking bullshit.”

She couldn’t get her mind past that he was merely trying to make her feel good about herself, but still, his statement made her heart thump. “And what do you see? Because all I see is a fat person who isn’t pretty at all.”

Sitting up, he took her hand and stood from the sofa, leading her from the common room and down the hallway. They signed out at the doors, the outside as grey as Ella’s mood, the threat of rain in the dark clouds above despite the warm temperature.

“Alright, wanna know what I see?” he began, stopping around the corner of the facility, where the path opened up to one of the car parks. “I don’t see a pretty girl, really. Suppose you’re right there. Ella, you ain’t pretty. You’re fucking beautiful. Those girls who picked on you in school and started this whole mess with how you see yourself, they knew you were beautiful, too. Just wanted to cut you down to make themselves feel better, innit.”

Her bottom lip began to wobble, her eyes glassing as she hugged herself, sniffing hard and riddled with discomfort. Beautiful. He’d called her beautiful. “I’m not, though.”

He sighed, one half his brain screaming at him to stop what he was about to do, the other half telling him fuck it. Go with it. “Top grade rubbish, that. Wanna know how I know?”

Again, she shrugged, her heart beating so rapidly, she felt queasy.

Reaching for her, he held her face in his big hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks. “I don’t kiss girls who aren’t beautiful.”

And then he did, Ella’s internal voice screaming with joy and disbelief, wrapping her arms around his neck as her insides truly, for the first time in months, began to bloom wildly. God, he was such a good kisser, her body humming with it, with him, his arms enveloping her slender frame, holding her closer.

As for James, he knew it probably wasn’t the best decision he could ever make, acting on what he felt for another person just as troubled as he was. For that moment, it definitely was the right one, though.

#original fiction #original stories #original story #smutty story #tw: depression #tw: anorexia

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 7 months ago

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Find the word

Thanks to @illarian-rambling here and @elsie-writes here!

My words: festival, brown, paint, drag, dog, water, gorgeous, hat

Your words: voice, fence, still, frozen

Tagging @writeouswriter @talesofsorrowandofruin @i-can-even-burn-salad @writernopal @k--havok

@spitefulbull @cowboybrunch @willtheweaver @willowiswriting @ahordeofwasps

+ anyone else!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy

Keep reading for:

William succeeds

Gwen meets Liam

Halloween!

Tierney has static electricity

Dragon!

Robbie helps Kelsey

Well someone's doppelganger turned out different

Akash and Carla make baseball small talk

Festival Celebration - from The Secret Portal Part One

The snakefly’s wings continued to rapidly beat together, then slowed as if stuck in treacle. It froze midair, dropping to the ground by the forces of gravity. William let out a sound that would have caused him to flush if anyone was around to witness as he abruptly shot out of his seat. He cleared his throat, though still vibrating from excitement, then called his wife on the comm. “Atsila! Atsila! I did it!” “What is it, Will? You coming early? Do I have to clean up all this mess in five minutes?” she joked in response to his jubilant celebration. “I’m not coming to bed, hon. I’m sorry.” “What—” “I’ve reached a breakthrough.” “Good to kn—” William turned off the comm and continued his work.

Brown - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

“I’m Liam Beaumont.” “Nice to meet you,” I said, then paused. “Wait, I was told you were the first recruited. How old are you?” “You were told about me?” “I gave a quick list of everyone,” Gabriel explained. “Oh. Well, I’m eighteen.” My mouth dropped unintentionally. Liam sighed, playing with the zipper on his light brown jacket but seeming to find it humorous. “I know, I look eleven. But, like, I’m five-seven and people still think that. It’s not like I’m super short like Tyler.” Tyler gave Liam a rude gesture.

Paint - from The Secret Portal Part One

“Whoa,” George said, gazing around. There were black and orange streamers and fake cobwebs everywhere and what appeared to be spiderpig webs on every other surface. The lights were dim and the sources of flickering light came from inside pumpkins with faces carved out of them. A couple tables were pushed against the wall with candy and punch. Spooky music played in the background, and George and Carla weren’t sure they liked how it made them feel, but it certainly fit the mood. Tyler walked up to them, his black hair slicked back and wearing fake pointy teeth. Red paint dripped down his chin. “Velcome to the party.”

Drag - from School of the Legends Year One

Tierney followed his brother with his hand outstretched, making extra sure to drag his feet on the carpet to keep up the static, even if it slowed his pace. Jarred turned a corner and made an “oof!” sound as he ran into Ritchie--both falling over, causing Tierney to trip over both of them and crash to the ground. “Agh! Blimey, Tierney, you have a lot of shock on you today,” Ritchie noted as Tierney brushed up against him. Jarred sat up and poked Ritchie. “Ack!” He jumped back. “You, too?” “Don’t look at me, I got it from him.” Ritchie gave Tierney’s shoulder a soft push and hissed a swear as he flinched his hand back. “Bloody, Tierney, are you a walking socks-on-the-carpet-during-winter?”

Dog - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

Ash leapt to her feet and ran to the door with me close behind. Ash banged and screamed to be let in until Carla Baxter opened the door. We rushed inside before she could say anything. Carla looked back outside as the dragon burst through the trees. I expected it to shoot fireballs at us, but instead, it sat down, like a dog. Carla laughed. She actually laughed.

Water - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I stood back, hugging myself as Robbie knelt in front of Kelsey. He pressed his fingers to her temples, and Kelsey shuddered—maybe in relief. A soft maroon glow emanated from Robbie’s fingertips. The darkness beneath Kelsey’s skin began to fade, and it traveled up Robbie’s arms, that same menacing glow radiating beneath his skin. After a moment, he released his grip from Kelsey, who let out a sharp gasp, the light gone. Robbie stood, closing his eyes. The darkness now inside him turned into a bright maroon. “Shut your eyes!” he commanded. I obeyed, and through my eyelids, I could still see a sharp white light blaring. I squeezed my eyes tighter, though water still seeped out the edges. The light faded.

Gorgeous - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Rose POV)

CJ passed me the book, which I took, examining the color. It was gorgeous. I flipped through the book. The illustrator did a lot of work to show the information of what Brown was talking about. “Alex, you get The Theory of Wormhole-Based Powers by Raissa Kamanzi.” “Oh, I love her!” Alex snatched the book as my heart stopped at the name. “Raissa Kamanzi?” I asked. Alex nodded vigorously. “She’s this brilliant woman who dives deep into Alii power theory. She talks all about the science behind them and how they could potentially expand beyond what is known. My aunt would love her; she does similar things in her field. She also has tried to replicate some powers synthetically, which could help with equalizing Neutrum and Ceters.”

Hat - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

I turned to Carla. “Hey,” I said lamely. “Hey,” she said, smiling. “It’s nice to see them get along.” “For sure,” I agreed. “I’m glad we have y’all on the team now.” Carla smiled, but something caught her eye. “What’s that on your hat?” “Huh? Oh.” I took off my hat—I’m so stupid now I have hat hair—so she could see the logo. “It’s, uh, a baseball cap.”

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karahalloway · 1 year ago

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Morally Grey: Part I - Game of Thieves

Fandom: TRR x Mission: Impossible II

Series: Morally Grey

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: Harper's illicit plans go awry when Drake's appearance at the Beaumont Bash throws an unexpected wrench in the works

Word count: 5,000

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, aggravation, illegal activities, a handful of lemon-scented moments)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: This is my submission for @choicesprompts' Rewrite Challenge and the scene I chose to redo with my OTP is the one from Mission: Impossible II where Nyah steals the necklace from the hacienda in Seville. This is (still) one of my favourite movies of all time and I especially love this scene for the music, the way it's shot, the situational humour and the sexual tension... basically everything about it! 🙃

A/N2: The clips (for anyone who hasn't seen the movie, or doesn't remember) are below (I couldn't find a YouTube video that had the entire scene in one video). Enjoy!

youtube

"Evening, ma'am," greets a liveried footman as he reaches for the door handle of the Mercedes AMG SL 63 roadster that I've just revved to a stop. "And welcome to the Beaumont Bash."

"Thanks," I say with a smile, spinning in the seat to swivel my legs out of the car. "Looking forward to seeing if the experience lives up to the hype."

"Oh, I can assure you that it does, ma'am," he chuckles, handing me a token for my car. "The Bash gets wilder every year."

"Does it really?" I ask with wide eyed surprise as I open my clutch up to carefully stow the token away.

"I promise, you will not be disappointed, ma'am," he assures me with a wink.

"Bet your ass I won't, bud," I murmur under my breath as I turn towards the House. "Because I have something special planned for tonight..."

Stepping onto the red carpet lined stairway of the the stately, baroque manor, I can tell that the party is already very much in full swing: the thump of the bass echoes out in the night, the occasional shrill laugher rising above it as shadowy silhouettes drift and mingle.

Which is perfect.

Because even though I am normally very much a punctual kind of girl, there are certain situations where it pays to arrive fashionably late... or not at all.

As in my line of work, timing is everything.

And I intend to make it rain tonight...

...assuming everything goes to plan.

I have no real reason to think that it won’t. After all, I've been planning this job for over a year and I've made sure to account for every step, every detail, down to the time of my arrival, to the way I’ve styled my hair, and even the black lace mini dress I’m wearing.

Because when the potential pay-off is this big, nothing can be left to chance. And I am nothing if not a perfectionist.

Making it to the top of the steps, I am greeted by a pair of burly-looking security guards.

"Good evening, ma'am," says one holding a tablet. "Your name?"

"Lady Riley Brooks," I say with a demure smile.

A lie. But, then again, I’m not stupid enough to have booked myself onto the high-profile guest list under my real name.

The guard taps on the screen a few times before nodding.

"May I take a look at your bag, ma'am?" asks the other.

"Of course," I reply graciously, handing my black leather YSL clutch over.

The guy opens it up, pulling out my phone, a USB charger, a compact mirror, and a tube of lipstick, before slotting everything away again and returning it to my hands.

"Have a good evening, ma'am," he nods, opening his arm to indicate that I may enter.

"I very much intend to," I say with a smirk, stepping through the doorway into the House...

...and I am instantly transported into another world.

The strategically placed mood lights bathe everyone and everything in the lavishly decorated room in a heady mix of rose and violet, providing an ethereal backdrop to the acrobats that are twirling seductively through the air with the help of various hoops, aerial silks, and trapeze lines.

Heightening the trance-like effect are strobe lights that flash in perfect accompaniment to the EDM-remixed classical music, illuminating the glitter and lavender-scent infused smoke slithering around the guests' ankles.

But what truly takes my breath away is the centre piece of the extravagant show, which is a pair of scantily dressed dancers, performing a racy ballet routine on top of a snowy-white Lippizaner.

"Apparently money can buy you anything," I muse softly, surveying the combined effect of the spectacle that is more than on par with anything ever put on by the Cirque du Soleil.

And even though I would love to lose myself in the magic of it all, I’m here for business, not pleasure. Which means that I cannot afford any distractions.

So, taking a breath, I plunge into the crowd. Weaving between the ballgowns and the tuxedos, I'm careful to avoid direct eye contact with anyone as I skirt ‘round the edge of the performance area, trying to look the part while remaining as unassuming as possible.

But despite my attempts to lose myself in the press, I feel an unmistakable tingle rise up the back of my neck.

I'm being watched.

I come to a stop, debating what to do.

Part of my mind tells me that I should ignore it, that it's probably just some drunk duke checking out my ass.

But a deeper, more instinctual part of me knows the difference between a pervy once-over and an unrelenting, focused stare. And this is definitely the latter.

So, probably against my better judgment, I lift my head in silent challenge...

...and my gaze instantly collides with his, bringing the world around me to a sudden, screeching halt.

My breath lodges in my chest as I find myself helplessly immobile under the weight of his scrutiny, like a deer caught in the headlights. The music, the laughter, it all falls away until it feels like it's just me and him, suspended in time and space across the room.

Because even with the distance separating us, I can feel the heat of his gaze scorching into me, stripping me bare, until I'm left naked, exposed in front of him.

And still he doesn't look away. He doesn't blink, or flush, or avert his gaze in any semblance of pretence that his attention had actually been focused on anything else.

He simply stands, unmoving, on the other side of the dancers, his dark eyes binding me unapologetically, giving me no corner, no chance of escape.

Yet escape is exactly what I must do.

I have no clue who this guy is, and I have even less interest in finding out. As best case scenario, he is simply a dangerous distraction. But worst case? He somehow knows exactly who I am and my reason for being here.

And neither of those options are good.

So, as the dancers pirouette across the floor, throwing their arms out and breaking the line of sight that connects us, I wrench myself out of my stupor, diving into the crush behind me.

"Holy shit! Who was that guy?" I gasp under my breath, feeling my heart race at a million miles an hour in response to the strangely intimate nature of the encounter.

But despite my shock, I know in the back of my head that the details are irrelevant. That the only thing that matters is getting as far away from him as possible. Because the last thing I need right now is him following after me and derailing all the hard work I've put into getting here tonight.

Keep it together, Harper, I tell myself, bending my head low as I use the anonymity of the crowd to hide myself, hoping that I've managed to give him the slip.

Reaching the end of the throng without incident, I duck behind a doorway to give myself a second to catch my breath, and make sure that the coast is clear.

Satisfied that I've lost him — at least for the moment — I turn towards my next objective, which is the grand staircases.

It's an exposed location, so I know I'll have to be quick. Especially since there is a pair of guards stationed at the bottom of the steps, tasked with preventing exactly the kind of protocol violation that I am about to commit.

Luckily, just at that moment, a group of very much worse for wear noblewomen stumble out of the main party, shrieking loudly.

"Oh, my goodness!" exclaims one, feathering herself with her silk fan. "Did you see the size of that lad's package!"

"Calm down, Abigail!" admonishes another. "We know that husband of yours is next to useless, but you should at least try to not make such a spectacle of yourself!"

"Mmm, speaking of spectacle..." purrs the first, laying eyes on the guards.

"Abigail!" cries her companion, even as snorts of laughter rise up from the others. "You are absolutely incorrigible!"

"Better to be incorrigible than a vapid, old nun!" comes the pithy response as Abigail stumbles across the hallway.

Seizing my chance, I fall into line at the back of the group as the women crowd around the guards, laughing and swaying as they try to secure their attentions.

As expected, the focus of the guards quickly becomes diverted by the ladies, even if it's only to the extent of trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism in the face of the relentless coquetry, and I use the opportunity to dash up the stairs behind them.

Keeping to the shadows, I fly up the steps two at a time, knowing that I have scant few moments to make it to the upper floor before I am spotted.

Reaching the top of the landing, I throw myself behind a suit of armour. But, it seems that Lady Luck is with me tonight, and apart from the sound of the party continuing in full swing downstairs, I hear no signs of a pursuit.

So, I take advantage of the momentary reprieve to retrieve the pair of satin opera gloves that I've stashed in my garter. Pulling them on, I slip out from my hiding place and make my way towards the master wing, using my mental map of the manor's blueprints as a guide.

Arriving at the correct set of doors, I try the handle, and breathe a sigh of relief when it turns easily in my hand.

I've brought a set of lock-picks with me, of course, but being able to save time and effort in not having to use them is a massive win.

Letting myself into the room, I click the door softly closed behind me.

An opulent, Rocco-inspired suite greets me, complete with a four-poster bed and a full-blown hand-painted mural on the ceiling.

But I’m not here to gawk. And I have precious little time to get what I came for and get out.

So, pulling my compact mirror from my clutch, I open it up to reveal the miniature voltage detector concealed within.

Stepping further into the room, I hold the device out in front of me, the faint chirps serving as a beacon guiding me towards my destination.

The beeping suddenly intensifies as I swing the detector past the line of the bathroom, and I know I'm getting closer.

Adjusting my course, I follow the compass-like arrow in my hand. Zeroing in on the oversized bathtub, I am rewarded with a series of high-pitched cheeps.

Jackpot.

Why someone would choose to hide a safe in a bathroom, not to mention in the vicinity of a bathtub that is prone to flooding and other types of short-circuit causing disasters, I have no idea.

That said, it is innovative.

Though not innovative enough to fool a professional thief like me.

Because that's what I am — a career larcenist who specialises in small, high value items. Jewellery, art, antiques... I’m not picky. As long as it has a five-to-six figure price tag and I can hide it in my cleavage, I am willing to put in the effort to lift it.

And that's why I’m here tonight — to get my hands on the 24 carat Bvlgari diamond necklace that has graced the neck of every Duchess of Ramsford since the turn of the last century. Not only is it worth millions, but it's also a stunning work of art. And it deserved to be worn, rather than gathering dust in an expensive safe somewhere.

Scooting into the marble tub, I place my clutch onto the mosaic tiled surround as I scan the expanse of the walls with the voltage detector.

The indicator suddenly jumps to the right and down, and I can't help but feel the familiar rush of butterflies in my stomach.

This is it.

Dropping the detector back in my clutch, I extract my phone and the tube of lipstick. Twisting the bottom off the tube, I pull out the miniature lock-pick hiding within and, with the help of the flashlight on my phone, I begin to move over the tiles, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Suddenly I spot it — a tiny inconsistency in the mortar between the edge of two tiles. Reaching down with the pick, I dig at the protrusion until it pops free, revealing some kind of card slot.

Turning the flashlight off on my phone, I flip it over and snap the protective cover off, exposing a flimsy bit of plastic nestled within. Connecting the keycard decoder to my phone via the micro-USB port, I slot it into the nearly invisible slit between the tiles.

Booting up the hidden app on my phone, I quickly run the hack program and am rewarded with a beep and a click as the high-tech safety net falls away...

...only to have my sense of achievement instantly dashed.

Because instead of a discreet jewellery box nestled in the belly of the safe, I am greeted with yet another layer of security.

A slice of mosaic tile slides back on the bathtub surround to reveal a complicated-looking, multi-lock compartment within.

And this one has no electronic overrides.

"Crap..."

"I see you've found it."

"Jesus Christ!" I gasp, nearly jumping out of my skin at the sound of the unfamiliar and unexpected voice.

Whipping around, I come face to face with the guy from downstairs, perched on the side of the tub with a conspiratorial smirk on his face.

Like this is all some kind of massive joke.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demand, angry at him for sneaking up on me, but even angrier at myself for letting him get this close in the first place without my warning bells going off.

Because thieves without self-preservation instincts don't survive long... and mine have just let me down big time.

Which is even more annoying given the fact that he is staring at me with that calculating, predatory gaze again, his entire body exuding a tightly-coiled, barely suppressed energy, like a panther waiting to pounce.

And even though he is dressed in a custom-tailored suit that moulds effortlessly to his muscled form like a second skin, and the watch that peeks out from beneath his cuff is worth almost as much as my car, he isn’t fooling me. Not one bit.

Because as much as he’s tried to hide it, he is an interloper here. Just like me.

His rich baritone is missing that characteristic upwards inflection that the nobility like to force upon their speech in an effort to differentiate themselves from the rest of us. And no duke, count, or baron would be caught dead with the type of five-o'clock shadow this guy is sporting, much less condone the uninhibited way with which his thick, chocolate-coloured hair has been left to fall around his face.

But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to lower my guard. Just the opposite.

Because regardless of who he is, or what he looks like (...which is hotter than hell), the guy reeks of trouble.

And his next words only help reaffirm my initial assessment.

"Think you're the only one who can pick a lock?" he asks, brow quirking upwards in sardonic challenge.

"Pfft!" I snort. "Seeing is believing, bud, and as far as I can see, I'm the only one wh—"

The sound of the bedroom door clicking open interrupts whatever retort I was going to throw at him.

Our eyes meet — mine in panic, his in measured curiosity — and in the next instant, I've grabbed the lapel of his expensive jacket, and yanked him towards me.

We hit the bottom of the tub just as the owner of the manor bursts irately into the room.

"I swear to God, Maxwell," seethes the Duke of Ramsford, the stomp of his pissed-off footsteps echoing off the wood planked floor as he enters the suite, "if one more ruddy bird defecates on my shoe, I'm culling the entire bloody lot!"

"He just got scared!" comes his companion's plaintive response. "You did boot him up the behind in a very undignified fashion..."

"Because he shat on my Oxfords!" cries the Duke, clearly incensed, as he rummages around the closet, no doubt for a replacement pair of loafers.

"Maybe if you tried being nicer to Lord Featherington—"

An unintended snort escapes me. Were these two for real right now?

"You try'na give away our position?" asks the guy from above me, his voice barely a whisper as his face hovers mere inches from mine.

"No," I hiss back, trying to sound irritated even as I struggle to contain another bout of amusement at the sheer hilarity of the situation — listening to two grown men argue about peafowl while trying to hide a third between my legs. "But it sounds like you are."

"I happen to like this position," he murmurs softly, his words sending an unexpected shiver down my spine.

"Well, don't get used to it, bud," I reply dryly, trying to ignore the feel of his overwhelming and inescapable proximity, while listening out for the Beaumont brothers. "This is a temporary situation, nothing more."

His whiskey-laced breath washes over my lips. "All the more reason to enjoy it..."

"In that case," I purr, meeting the full force of his rich, mocha-coloured eyes head on, "you wouldn't mind if I'm on top, would you?"

"Not one bit," he grins.

"Good," I smirk back as I begin to shift my weight beneath him. "Because I wouldn't have given you a choice, anyway."

He stifles a scoff as he rolls to the side.

"Something funny?" I ask with a raised brow, scooting out from under him.

"Nope," he replies, snaking a hand around my waist to pull me on top of him. "I'm just here for the ride."

"Then you better get comfortable," I tell him, as the Beaumonts make their way back across the room.

Hearing the door open and click shut again in their wake, I push myself back up, noting with more than a hint of annoyance that I now smell like the warm spice of his aftershave.

But that inconvenience can’t be helped, nor can I let it distract me from the reason I am here. I'll simply have to wait to wash it off in the shower once I am clear of this place.

So, reaching into my up-do, I extract the tension wrench hiding in my hair, and collect my lock-pick from where I dropped it on the bathtub surround earlier before refocusing my attention on the safe.

Upon closer examination, it seems to have three separate compartments, each secured by its own, dedicated lock. And I have no idea which section contained the necklace... or whether there are any hidden alarms embedded in the locking mechanisms if I pick the wrong one.

But, even with the odds — and time — stacked against me, I know I have to make a choice, because I didn't come all this way to chicken out at the final hurdle.

Taking a breath, I lean towards the middle compartment, figuring that out of the three possibilities that woul—

"You're not gonna find it there."

I nearly drop my tools all over the marble tiles.

Gritting my teeth, I glance down between my legs to find Mr Impeccable Timing smirking up at me, his hands folded easily behind his head, like he’s lazing on a tropical beach without a single care in the world, instead of at the bottom of a porcelain tub, with a stranger straddling him.

"Find what?" I bite out testily.

Who knows...? Maybe this is his idea of a good time. But it sure as hell isn’t mine.

"The former Lady Beaumont's one-of-kind Bvlgari necklace that goes up for auction next Tuesday," he replies.

My eyes narrow suspiciously. "And are you going to tell me where it is?"

He holds my gaze silently for a long moment before nodding his head, "Far left."

"Hmph," I huff, not convinced that I can trust him any further than I can throw him; which, given his size — he’s 6ft tall at least �� is not very far at all.

But, unfortunately for me, I don't have time to try and psychoanalyse the possibility of whether or not he is trying to play me. The night is wearing on, the Beaumonts could return at any time, and I need to get as far out of the country as humanly possible before anyone notices the theft.

So, I am going to have to take a leap of faith.

Leaning forward again, I slide my tools into the lock of the indicated compartment and start feeling around for the binding pins.

I manage to locate the first and second relatively quickly. But, finding and setting the third proves to be slightly more elusive and I feel myself growing more agitated with each passing second.

"Damn it, why won't you move?!" I seethe under my breath as I battle with the pin.

"Hey, you put me here, remember?" comes the wry response from beneath me. "I just do as I—"

"Oh, screw you..." I huff exasperatedly, lifting my leg to give him a perfunctory knee to the gut.

"Christ, girl!" he wheezes painedly, sitting up behind me. "If you want to play rough then—"

"Gotcha!" I exclaim triumphantly, finally managing to slot the irksome pin into place and making quick work of the fourth.

The door of the compartment pings off its bolts and I drop my tools to open it up eagerly. To my relief, I'm rewarded with a velvet-lined jewellery box, which I pull quickly out.

Laying the container down on the tiles in front of me, I reach for the lid, my heart in my mouth as I lift it up...

...and I can't help but gasp at the sight in front of me.

The diamond necklace is even more stunning in real life than I could've imagined. Several hundred painstakingly curated gems gleam up at me from a nest of black silk, perfectly offsetting the elegance of the winged design to make it seem like the whole necklace is floating.

But, given that I am working on borrowed time thanks to all the unforeseen setbacks that I've run into tonight, I know that I am not going to be able to give the beautiful item the attention it deserves. At least not until I am back home.

So, reaching down, I grab the coolness of the white gold. Quickly unscrewing the heavy clasp, I unfurl the strand of precious metal and slide it down into my bra, giving my breasts a slight readjustment to help conceal my illicit cargo.

Snapping the lid of the box back closed, I turn to face my uncalled-for spectator.

"Right," I say, slotting the box back into its place. "Now that that's done, you're going to tell me exactly who you are and—"

"I wouldn't do that."

"Do what?" I bristle indignantly as I slam the safe's door closed with one hand.

An ear-splitting alarm shrieks to life.

"That," he clarifies blandly.

"Shit!" I gasp, grabbing for my stuff and haphazardly throwing them into the clutch as I scan the bathroom for possible exit points.

But my off-the-cuff plan of jumping out of the second storey window is quickly dashed as the door of the master suite bursts open to disgorge the two security guards from downstairs into the room with guns drawn.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight as the guards start shouting. "Shit..."

"T'enquites pas!" comes the sudden voice of guy from behind me.

Glancing up in surprise, I see that he's pushed himself up to his full height and is gesturing at the guards to lower their weapons.

"Mr Dallas!" cries the Duke of Ramsford, bursting into the room as well. "What in blazes is going on here?" Turning to the guards, he adds, "You twits! That is Mr Dallas — our external security consultant! Apologise at once!"

"No need for that, Lord Beaumont," smiles Dallas, flapping my keycard decoder discreetly behind his back as the alarm is finally turned off. "They're just doing their jobs."

I snatch it out of his hand and stow it in my bag, throwing the satin gloves after it.

"Now, Miss Gale, my associate—"

My eyes widen at the sound of my real name as I flip my clutch closed. How did he—?

"—has your necklace in a very safe place," continues Dallas conversationally, stepping out of the bath. "But obviously, we both feel that the alarm should've gone off a bit sooner. Isn't that right, Miss Gale?"

I quickly paste a demure smile onto my face as I turn around. "Yes. Agreed. Much sooner."

Dallas — if that is even his real name — holds his hand out to help me navigate my exit from the tub in my heels while continuing his disquisition. "Now, given the circumstances, our recommendation would be to reset the sensors to respond to a lighter load. How d'you feel about sixty kilos, Miss Gale?

I shake myself out of my stupor to do some quick mental conversion, before beaming, "Perfect!"

Name? That’s one thing. My exact weight? That’s a whole 'nother league... Because no way had that been a simple guess.

But right now is not the time to ponder whether he's managed to get his hands on my Social Security number as well. Because we’re still very much in deep water.

"Shall we?" asks Dallas graciously, his face a mask of innocence as he holds his hand out in front of me.

"Let's!" I nod eagerly, stepping towards the door, my head still spinning from the sudden whirlwind of events...

...but I feel myself get pulled backwards.

"Erm, Miss Gale..." murmurs Dallas, his dark brows quirking upwards questioningly. "Aren't you... forgetting something?"

I frown in confusion. "Umm... don't think so..."

He fixes me with a level look.

My frown deepens. He’s not serious... Is he?

He stares me down uncompromisingly.

I let out a huff of annoyance.

"My lady!" cries the Duke, clearly scandalised as I reach down between my breasts. "What are you trying to do! Rob me?!"

"The thought had crossed my mind..." I reply with a tight smile, pulling the necklace out and handing it back to its owner.

"Yes, well, thank you for your..." The nobleman gulps visibly as he takes the strand of warmed metal from my hand. "...sincere efforts, Miss—"

But I've already stomped out of the room.

Flying down the grand staircase, I push my way through the — now very much more rowdy — crowd and out of the front doors of the manor, intent on putting as much distance between me and Dallas as I can so I didn't end up murdering him in full view of all of Cordonian high-society.

Un-fucking-bel—

"Harper!"

"You've got to be kidding me..." I grit as I continue my aggravated jog down the carpeted steps, pulling the token out for my car as I went.

"Harper! Wait up!" Dallas hollers again, managing to catch me by the arm just as I hit the last step.

"Fuck off," I snap, wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

He snaps a hold on my wrist to whirl me back around. "Look, just hear me out, will ya?"

"Why should I?" I hiss into his face. "Had it not been for your last minute growth of a conscience, I could've walked out of there with that necklace and that duke would've been none the wiser!"

"At least you walked..."

"Ha! Funny!" I hit back sarcastically, giving him an unmitigated shove to extricating myself from his grasp again. "Only I'm not laughing because your fucking chivalry just cost me a year's worth of work!"

"I needed to see how good you were," he replies evenly.

"Oh, really?" I scoff over my shoulder as I veritably throw the token at the nearby valet manager. “And why is that?"

"I find myself in need of someone of your unique skill-set."

I stare at him incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Yeah. In your dreams, bud! I work alone. And even if I didn't, I would never team up with someone I didn't know, much less—"

"You wanna know me?" he interjects, suddenly up in my space again. "Fine. My name's Drake. Drake Walker and—"

"Let me guess..." I gripe, folding my arms as my Mercedes pulls up. "You're not really the Beaumonts' external security consultant."

"Nope," he confirms, reaching out to grab the driver's side door as the valet gets out. "But, then you're not really Lady Riley Brooks, so I guess we're even on that front..."

I roll my eyes at him.

"...and if we're being honest, I should probably come clean about one more thing."

My eyes widen as he holds up a small fob.

"I triggered the alarm," he admits, pressing the button and causing the manor behind us light up with the wail of the claxton again.

I stare up at him, utterly speechless.

He shrugs down at me apathetically. "Sorry."

I manage to recollect myself enough to throw an ice cold glare at him as I get into the car. "For future reference, I don't do early mornings, date, or put up with two-faced bastards who get a kick out of screwing me over. So, you can take your job offer and shove it, Walker."

Grabbing the door, I slam it closed — getting more than a bit of perverse satisfaction out of the fact that the suddenness of the movement manages to pull him off balance — before kicking the throttle down and leaving him in a cloud of exhaust in my rear view.

Fucking asshole.

The story continues in Part 2 - Hard Drive

Bonus: Artwork

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890

Picture credits:

Drake - Necklace - Bathtub - Harper

#the royal romance #drake walker #harper gale #trr au #mission: impossible #rewrite challenge #game of thieves #morally grey

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choicesficwriterscreations · 11 months ago

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December 2023 LGBTQIA Masterlist

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA | 🌟 = Holiday

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Aerin x Cyrus Fanfic ✒️🏳️‍🌈 | Aerin Valleros x M!Elf!MC - @malthemagnifisent

Aerin x Cyrus Fanfic 2 ✒️Ⓜ️ 🏳️‍🌈| Aerin Valleros x M!Elf!MC - @malthemagnifisent

Aerin Valleros x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @talasintahan

Aerin Valleros x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Aerin Valleros x m!elf!MC Art 🎨🏳️‍🌈by @bayleedraws-sometimesx (C: @oh-so-youre-a-nerd)

Aerin Valleros x M!MC Fanart 🎨Ⓜ️ 🏳️‍🌈 by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Beneath the Mistletoe ✒️🎨🏳️‍🌈🌟| Blades F!MC, MC - art by @callmebeem fic by @storyofmychoices

Blades Drabble ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Aerin Valleros x MC - @lilyoffandoms

By My Side ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Aerin Valleros x M!elf!MC - @aallotarenunelma for @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Daenarya & Maiele 🎨🏳️‍🌈🌟| elf!mc, f!human!mc by @/artbyainna (IG) for @lilyoffandoms

I Cannot Bear to Hold You with These Unworthy Hands ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Aerin Valleros x F!MC by @aria-ashryver

I Won't Go Far From You 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Valax x MC - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Love, I See You Now ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Aerin Valleros x M!elf!MC - @saibug1022

My Heart Won't Start Anymore ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Tyril Starfury x M!elf!MC x Mal Volari - @saibug1022

So This is Love ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Aerin Valleros x m!elf!mc - @aallotarenunelma

Take, Take, Take 🎨🏳️‍🌈| M!elf!MC - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

CRIMES OF PASSION

Nora Rose Graffiti 🎨🏳️‍🌈| F!MC - @inlocusmads

Nora Rose Moods Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈| F!MC - @inlocusmads

Nora Rose Soda Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈| F!MC - @inlocusmads

The Girl with the Glass ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @moominofthevalley

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Incident in the Ghostland (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| Gabriel Adalhard x Cas Harlow - @dreamscapingsblog Chapter 1: Theory of Chaos

This Pretty, Poisoned Chalice ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| m!Cas Harlow x m!Gabe Adalhard - @aria-ashryver

IT LIVES ANTHOLOGY

Banner Drabble ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Dan Pierce, Noah Marshall, etc. - @aallotarenunelma

He Would Have Won ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Lincoln McQuiod x MC - @linkysmommy (for @abelflints)

Lincoln McQuoid x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈(ILW) by @rainesenator for @aallotarenunelma

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Partner ✒️🏳️‍🌈🌟| Joaquin Morales x NB!MC - @noesapphic for @hydn-jpg

OPEN HEART

A Cozy Christmas ✒️🏳️‍🌈🌟| Ethan Ramsey x M!MC - @storyofmychoices for @peonyblossom

All Is Merry & Bright ✒️🎨🏳️‍🌈🌟| Art: Tobias x Casey by @rosefuckinggenius Fic: Tobias Carrick x F!MC, Bryce Lahela x M!MC - @jerzwriter

Bryce Lahela Bedtime Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈by @mydemonsdrivealimo

Halloween (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Bryce Lahela x M!MC - @mydemonsdrivealimo Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Moving ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Bryce Lahela x M!MC, F!MC - @jerzwriter

Not a Valentine ✒️🏳️‍🌈| OH M!MC, OH F!MC - @jerzwriter

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

All I Want for Christmas - Part 1 ✒️🏳️‍🌈🌟| Drake Walker x MC, Liam Rys x Maxwell Beaumont - @angelasscribbles

CROSSOVERS

Immortal Desires / It Lives Anthology

Jouluyö - Christmas Night ✒️🏳️‍🌈🌟| Various Pairings - @aallotarenunelma

#choices fanfic #choices fanart #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fic writers creations #cfwc lgbtqia #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #immortal desires #it lives anthology #laws of attraction #open heart #the royal romance #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart

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choiceswithmika · 9 months ago

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The Freshman x The Royal Romance CrossOver Series

Rating: Mature

Summary: The Freshman and The Royal Romance Series from Pixelberrry Studios (Choices). What if The Freshman Gang and The Royal Romance Dream Team all met and even being in each other's lives through out after Hartfied and Cordonia. Are they going to get along well and even make friendships? Are they going to work together? or... this might not end well for both groups?.. A Crossover series of two well known choices books and they all meet/reunion after two to three years..

Characters: Mikaylyn Ortega, Zig Ortega, Chris Powell, Kaitlyn Liao, Zack Zilburg, Abbie Bishop, Rebecca Davenport, Tyler Allan, James Ashton, Will Williams, Sumi Ayashi, Liam Rys, Hana Lee, Maxwell Beaumont, Drake Walker, Olivia Nevrakis

My AU

- Zig and Mikaylyn are married

- TRR Mc is a guy, Will Williams and King Liam Rye are getting married.

- Abbie and James are dating

- Sumi is Mikaylyn's best friend that was not a Hartfeld student but gets along with everyone else

- The Freshman Gang are graduates

- Will Williams are still friends with Sumi, Mikaylyn and The Freshman Gang but have not met up ever since Will moved out of the state.

Warnings: NSFW, Swearing, Sensitive topics like harassment, emotion abuse and more.

Word Count: 1729

___________________________________

Chapter One: The Freshman Gang's POV

It was a lovely day in the city, the gang all had graduated from Hartfied and living in their new lives. Mikaylyn and her friends are living happily in their lives since graduation. Right now seems like the group all had been reunited in a buffet restaurant after a while last time they all met up. Everyone seems like having a good time by talking and having fun conversation. Some conversations were deep as continuing to have a conversation.

"Hey guys! Check this out!" Chris says as he showed his phone to everyone at the table.

It was a news article about King Liam Rys and Will Williams together. Mikaylyn and Sumi looked into Chris's phone and both realized that Will was getting married. Everyone else was invested about them while Sumi and Mikaylyn overthinks this, they used to have a trio with Will but when he had to leave their state to Cordonia, they kind of stopped talking to each other but they were still considered friends despite that.

"Man.. How has it been?" Mikaylyn ask as looking at Sumi.

"I think.. like a year or two?" Sumi answered.

"Wait about what?" Zig asked.

Mikaylyn sigh then takes a deep breath.

"Me and Sumi used to know Will actually. He is still our friend but when he moved to Cordonia, it kind of changed and we all stopped talking to each other." Mikaylyn explains.

Zig wrapped an arm around Mikaylyn's waist and gives her a reassuring smile. He then talks to Mikaylyn his sweet tone as looking into her eyes while holding her hand rubbing it with his thumb as he tighten her waist a little bit.

"I'm sure he still remembers you or us since Will met me before but look Mikay... It will be okay amor just remember he still is the same annoying man we knew." Zig says in an amusement trying to light up Mikaylyn's mood by saying his banter jokes about Will. It worked though, Mikaylyn chuckled a little and smiled then looks at Zig smiling.

"Yeah... You're right Zig.. I have nothing to worry.." Mikaylyn says in her normal tone that everyone knows her for.

Zig nods his head and he softly smiles, "That's my girl." Zig says in his sweet tone.

"Hey! I got an idea! We should totally go see Cordonia." Zack says with a grin.

Everyone stared at Zack with a shock, surprise and disbelief look on their faces. Like they think what Zack just said was either a stupid idea or is he actually crazy. The slience tells it all then a few minutes later Becca speaks up first.

"Uhm. I think you are insane or double insane because huh?!" Becca says in her reaction of confused and conflict with disappointed facial expression.

"For once, seconded because you know we are literally asking for a death wish and seeing a king and his people or friends that are literally well known everywhere!" Tyler says.

"Okay. but Mikaylyn is famous and she has no problem with it." Zack says being defensive.

Mikaylyn then spoke up, "Zack, there is a difference with being well known writer and heroes in a kingdom. I think you are crazy for going to Cordonia, like.. there's no way we'll be accepted!" Mikaylyn stated.

"Okay but like do you have any other ideas?" Zack said with a pointed look at Mikaylyn.

"Okay but at least we gotta let Will know that this is happening." Kaitlyn stated.

"I got it." Mikaylyn said as she got her phone out then texted Will.

It took a few minutes and after Mikaylyn putted her phone away, she looked at her friends and husband.

"Well.. Will said we can go to Cordonia in a week for his wedding with the king." Mikaylyn stated.

"But... is the King like going to be okay with it?.. More likely I am nervous of meeting the other members there.." Abbie says nervously.

"I meannn if I can meet the all time badass Olivia Nevrakis, that would be cool so I am down to give a kingdom a visit." Becca says in a small smirk on her face.

"Sooo am I a genius now?" Zack says grinning.

"I think this might be fun for all of us!" Chris says.

"Sure... But we never know what is going to happen so I say it'll be a experience.." James says.

"I guess we'll see each other at the airport next Wednesday?" Kaitlyn ask.

Everyone nods their head in agreement.

________________________

As time went on, the dinner was over and everyone say their good byes. They all went into their separate ways, Mikaylyn and Zig headed to their car to drive home. It only took them like ten minutes to reach home. Zig parked the car in the driveway and stopped the engine. He then unlock the car for both Zig and Mikaylyn to walk out of the car and head inside. Mikaylyn gets out of the passenger seat as Zig does the same of the driver seat. They both linked their arms together and walks towards their house. They both then walk inside their house as Mikaylyn unlock the house door with the key. The couple took their time to be ready for bed since it was almost like 8:45 Pm at this time. When they finished getting ready for bed, they both hopped onto the bed and were now cuddling for a little while as talking to each other.

"What do you think about Cordonia and I mean be totally honest with me.." Mikaylyn spoke as holding onto Zig as looking at him.

"My honest opinion? I think it'll look beautiful and fancy." Zig answers.

Mikaylyn chuckled to Zig's answer.

"Of course hehe, I did not expect a different answer." Mikaylyn said smiling at Zig.

"Okay but babygirl think about this, I mean we are literally going to meet Will's future husband and his other friends there. It's like, we are meeting celebrities basically-" Zig said in his normal tone of reaction but bit shocking.

"Okay fair but you kind of know Liam but we have not met like you know everyone else like... Drake, Maxwell, Hana and Olivia." Mikaylyn stated.

"But we should see how this goes for all of us eh?" Mikaylyn added.

"Mhm but well we should sleep amor.." Zig says.

"Yeah alright.. Good night Mi querido esposo." Mikaylyn grins as she gives Zig one last kiss.

Zig grinned back at Mikaylyn and responded, "Good night Mi amada esposa." Zig kissed Mikaylyn's lips softly before laying down on the bed with his arms wrapped around Mikaylyn.

Mikaylyn wrapped her arm around Zig's neck and falling asleep in his embrace. Zig does the same as he leans in closer pressed his side on Mikaylyn's peacefully now sleeping.

__________________________________

Time Skip: A Week Later At The Airport

Mikaylyn, Zig and their friends all met up in the airport with their bags packed, they all did the security gate and together as a group. When they went through the security, they all go walk together. Mikaylyn and Zig are holding hands, Abbie and James are holding hands as well while everyone else just talk and walk side by side.

"Okay.. so what number was our gate again?.." Sumi ask.

"I think.. Gate 9?" Tyler answers.

"Actually um.. Will texted me yesterday and told me that.. Liam was nice enough to helps us by getting into his private plane.." Mikaylyn stated.

Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked at Mikaylyn, even Zig who is still holding her hand was even shocked.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say... PRIVATE?!" Zack shouts in shock.

"Zack!!" Mikaylyn tried to calm him down.

"Wait.. Are you serious?.." Becca and James both ask at the same time in their shock tone.

Mikaylyn showed everyone her phone of the text message from Will. Everyone was stunned to speak.

"Okay.. This is already scaring me.." Kaitlyn says.

"Uh girl? You mean this is great!!" Becca says.

"I never thought we would go in a private plane.. the only fancy good thing is first class and I always did not want to take first class-" Zig said in shock tone.

"Well... Let's go enjoy the hell out of it!" Abbie says.

Everyone nods their heads and agrees by cheering

_______________________

The group all spent their time just doing last minute things on their phones and and devices before they all head to the airplane as walking towards the private plane gate. As soon everyone sees the plane in front of them they all stopped and looks at them with their mouth dropped.

"Okay.. Will was not joking.." James stated.

"I still can't believe that this is real.." Tyler says.

"Seconded.." Chris added.

"Well let's go guys!" Zack said excitingly as going into the plane first.

Everyone stared at each other then all head inside the plan one by one. They all taken their seats and waited for the take off. The whole plane trip was kind of fun since a lot of things to eat and drink including good signal as well so everyone could go on their phones if they needed to. Zack and Tyler were playing video games on their switches. Becca was reading a magazine as Kaitlyn was listening to music. Sumi is drawing while Chris was reading a book. Abbie and James were cuddling in their seats taking a nap. Mikaylyn and Zig were holding onto each other as looking through the window while drinking some soda.

"I never seen the ocean this big since the last time we traveled after Japan.." Mikaylyn stated.

"Yeah me either.. I never thought Cordonia would change my opinion of that besides Japan..' Zig adds.

The rest of the flight was more smoothing than what everyone thought. It was also kind of an over night flight so everyone fell asleep in the plane on their seats as the sun went down.

The next day though, the plane was landing in the Cordonia's private space for the plane to land, The gang realized that they made it to Cordonia.. One by one everyone gets up and walk out of the plane carefully to not bump into each other. As everyone walks out of the place. They all admire Cordonia and how beautiful the kingdom looks.

"This is it..." Mikaylyn says as she held ZIg's hand.

@choicesficwriterscreations

#the freshman series #choices fanfic #pixelberry #the freshman mc #choices game #play choices #zigortega #zig x mikaylyn #choices #choices stories you play #the royal romance #chris powell #james ashton #kaitlyn liao #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations

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numberoneradioheadfan · 3 months ago

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Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Shira Bardot, the 28 year old photographer for the Cardinal Chronical originally from Portland, OR. Living alongside her in such a small town, you know that she’s adaptive and impulsive, but what you might not know is that she is a witch, and that she’s hiding something… ― Hunter Schafer, pansexual , trans woman, and she/her.

previous threads - visage - musings - wanted connections

current threads - mood board

Name: Shira Rose Bardot

Alias: Shi, Rose (only if you know her really well)

Gender/Pronouns: Female, She/Her

Age: 28

Birthdate: 06/02/1964

Big Three: Gemini, Sagittarius, Cancer

Occupation: photographer at the Cardinal Chronical

Height: 5’7"

Hometown: Portland, OR, USA

Family: mother (Helen Bardot), father (Clint Bardot), older brother (Wyatt Bardot), younger sister (Calamity Bardot)

Friends: Elias Schwarz (wcirdo), Silas Addams (ritualove), Leonidas Desai (blackcatxmagic), Luciana Castillo (veilxstars)

Mentors: Beaumont Proctor (twistxdcrafts) and Marisol Hargrove (veilxstars)

Relationship Status: single

Sexuality: pansexual

Other Relationships:

Character Inspiration: Victoria Page - The Red Shoes (1948), Carrie Bradshaw (Sex In the City), Susie Bannion (Suspiria),

Likes: Formula 1 racing, cold matcha , Bauhaus , hot sauce , David Cronenberg , convertible’s , Kim Chee sauerkraut , Esperanto

Dislikes: jerks , spongey foods , elevators , cold coffee , hard eggs

TW: illicit substances mentioned if you squint, abandonment of a child , unaccepting parent, sex work

Shira Bardot’s life began in the rain-soaked streets of Portland, OR, a city both beautiful and melancholic, much like her existence. Born a trans woman in a world where witches exist but are hardly understood or even recognized by all, Shira's early years were marked by isolation and turmoil. Her childhood unfolded in a middle-class neighborhood in the Hollywood district of Portland. Where the perfect backdrop of a nuclear and well educated family line contrasted with the turbulence that brewed within their family. As the middle child in the household, which included her older brother Wade, her younger sister Bernadette and their mother Helen, Shira often felt like a whisper. Struggling to carve out an identity for herself in a world that seemed to shove her into the shadows. Wade, her older brother, was the epitome of masculinity. He excelled in sports and usually was the one to draw the attention of their parents. This was a fact that made her feel proud but also envious. She always admired how confident and sure of himself that he was. Bernadette, her younger sister was a bubbly child who's innocence casted a light over their family even in the darkest times. Shira often would take on the role of her protector, shielding her from the harsher realities of home life. Their mother Helen was ambitious but often times distant-- who saw her not as kin but as a means to an end. Desperate for a "ticket" to a better life. Helen was consumed with her own selfish dreams and saw her children as extensions of herself to polish and improve rather than actual people with opinions and personalities. She pushed her children in traditional paths, wanting them to have a future that was suitable for her delusions. A main focus for her was keeping up with appearances, needing to look like the part of the American Dream. This meant Shira's emerging identity was met with disapproval from her mother at first. But the turning point was when Shira was nine years old. The memory etched into her heart, scorned. When her father Clint discovered her true identity, it left ripples in her mother's perfectly fabricated illusion. He couldn't accept her for who she was so he left, leaving a whole that would haunt their family for years and thrust Shira further into a world of instability.

Following her fathers departure Helen often redirected her grief and anger towards Shira. Any maternal affection completely replaced with a resentment so cold it used to give her the shakes. Her trainings became more frequent and her mind was a minefield; during all of this she tried her best to shield Bernadette from reality. Amidst all of this turmoil, she sought solace in dance. Finding happiness in the rhythm and high that the ballet offered. What was once something she loathed -- became something of an escape for her. At least her instructors were harsh because they wanted her to get better and improve herself. Her mother was harsh because, in her eyes, everything was Shira's fault. And that stung more. It actually became a refuge for her but every day felt like a test of grace and endurance. Training was rigorous. The days began with early morning classes that seeped into late evenings, leaving little room for anything else. The atmosphere was intense and often times unbelievably unforgiving. The studio air was always thick with sweat and rosin, a scent she could still smell on occasion. Her instructor's harsh corrections snapped through the air all day, ringing in her ear's long after training had ended. She was taught to embody total precision and control -- her body transformed into a vessel of art. Discipline was relentless. Every step, every plié had to be perfect. There was zero room for error and at times the pressure felt suffocating. The line between passion and pain blurred as she was pushed to her limits. Shira’s raw talent shone brightly, and she joined a prestigious ballet company as a teenager. For a while, the discipline and grace of ballet provided a rare sense of purpose and escape. One she so desperately needed. The camaraderie she felt dancing with the other girls was unlike anything she had ever had in her life. She felt she had finally belonged somewhere, that someone enjoyed having her around.

But fate had other plans, as it often times does. One fateful evening, while exploring the desolate train tracks on the industrial side of town, Shira suffered a devastating leg injury. The break was severe, and her dreams of dancing ballet professionally were shattered. The pain from the injury was matched only by the emotional void left by her mother’s indifference and the loss of her life's passion.She didn’t think she would ever be the same after that night. And she would be right about that. Shira continued to sit in on dance practices, but they were never the same either. Eventually, she drifted from her dance friends and found solace in more… underground groups.

One day as she strolled down the Alberta Arts district (by far her favorite section of the city), she spotted a flyer. It was brightly colored and it read ‘QUEER DANCERS WANTED’. It was as if the heavens shone a light down from up above, glistening just for her. She quickly wrote the phone number and address in her pocketbook before she scurried home, toothy grin plastered to her lips.

The first time she met up with the queer dance troupe, she felt like she was in another universe. Shira had never even met another trans girl, and now she was meeting several. Ones she would soon call sisters. Those same sisters introduced her to Ballroom dance, and she fell in love instantly. She found a home in the Portland queer community and soon she joined a House, dancing for them for two years. During those two years one of her sisters told her about the Golden Dragon, a strip club that allowed 18 year olds to dance, they served no alcohol but at least she could make some money. And as soon as she turned 18, boy, did she make money! Enough money to allow her to move into her own place. It wasn’t big but it was just right for her.

As Shira continued to grow more independent, she turned to the world of full service, seeking control over her destiny and a way to redefine herself beyond the confines of her past. She completely stepped into the role of dancer and call girl, carving out a niche for herself in Portland’s underground scene. She was a fan favorite for many, including some very affluent business men. Usually something about projecting managing, mergers? Acquisitions? She didn’t know, and she didn’t really care as long as it filled her pockets.

Alongside her performances, she started a side business photographing dancers for the local exotic magazine, showcasing their beauty and strength through her lens. Shira was sick of seeing the creeps who took pictures of the girls for the magazine and decided to take it into her hands. She would be their safe space.

Everything was looking up but Shira's life took a dark turn one night. Fearful of the consequences and the power she didn't yet understand, Shira fled her hometown, crossing state lines to Washington. There, she hoped to start anew, to learn about the abilities that had lain dormant for so long, and to find a way to come to terms with the fragmented pieces of her past. She was smart enough to pack the essentials, including her photography gear; it only seemed natural that’s what she should do.

When she arrived in Cardinal Hill, she was able to secure a job taking pictures for the Cardinal Chronical. She was very thankful for her new life and her new job but she’s haunted. Everywhere she looks she can see his face, she can hear the sounds of his last rasping breath. She succumbs to the irresistible numbness that only certain vices can bring.

Shira Bardot—dancer, survivor, photographer, witch—continues her journey, seeking not just survival but transformation, in a world where magic and reality blend in the most unexpected ways.

Headcannons/Additional Information:

Shira has a hidden spell book that she jots down incantations and spells that she learns from older witches and non witches alike in the community. Most of these come from Beau but there are a few other honorable mentions.

She also has a dream diary where she writes down her vivid dreams and all of her interpretations of them. Often times they contain messages or symbols that correlate with her real life challenges.

Sometimes she hosts workshops to help young dancers find their voices and navigate the complexities of identity.

Shira discovered she has the ability to communicate with spirits. Particularly those who were marginalized or gotten lost. She uses her photography sometimes to capture all of their stories.

a/n: if any birthdates or numbers seem incorrect, feel free to correct me, I have dyscalculia. I’ll be working on my blogs soon, hope everyone is having a good weekend ! 🫶🏻 I’ll also be editing both intros with updated information as time goes on. Sorry this took forever I’m unpacking my house also ! 😌

#suspiriorum ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#howdy friends #cardinalintro

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zelenxa · 6 months ago

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1304 - The Kensingtons

“Dayana Beaumont?”

Marci repeats in a surprised tone, her feet suddenly feeling implanted on the floor. She hadn’t heard her mother’s maiden name in years. Beaumont.

Marci had been walking back home when she encountered an unfamiliar person. Even with living well into four years within the Lands, Marci had met not nearly all its residents. When Dayana reaffirms Marci’s questioning tone with equal confusion, Marci does a once over on the girl’s appearance. Dayana’s long black hair (longer than Marci’s) is unbraided and left about, implying she was no wife. It definitely fits. She appeared no older than sixteen. Her eyes are a cool shade of light brown. She reminds Marci of someone she can’t quite place a finger on. Nonetheless, she is brought out her observation when Dayana adds, a beat later,

“Perhaps you’re thinking of my mother? Gloria?” She points south of a small house on the hill. “We live there, maybe that rings a bell?”

Marci simply blinks, recognizing the name of her mother’s sister immediately.

“Oh. You’re my cousin.”

Marci smiles, tired, as she pours water over Haven’s body while washing her up. After her first encounter with Dayana (who of which had responded to the news with enthusiasm), Marci had invited her cousin to her home. After all, the both of them were not far from her home. In the coming months, Dayana had stuck to her like glue, constantly coming over to visit and play with the twins. Marci had warmed up to her cousin too, setting aside the disdain she held for Dayana’s mother, Gloria. Never would Marci get over how the now elder woman had thrown her mother, Gabriela, to the side once she secured her inheritance with her husband. Her husband, of which which Dayana absently informed over dinner one night, had passed away mere months after Dayana’s birth. Which left Gloria a widow and owner to a small piece of land that whatever male relatives she had did not bother to come inherit. With the Beaumonts’ little prestige and no records written about what inheritance went to who, Marci had inquired one night with Esteban that said relatives simply did not know of the land they legally owned. Gloria’s hush presence around the village quite ensured that as well.

Putting aside the Beaumonts, Marci had underestimated the difficulty of raising not one but two infants at the same time while balancing housework and farmwork. Try as they might for some good night’s rest, the twins interrupted the little sleep they could gather, and in such a small house, when one baby cried, the other cried next. It left the couple exhausted and in little mood for woohooing—likely for the best as they settled into their new normal.

Still, when the June heat soon arrived once more, and Marci had to rush to bake a resemblance of a cake for the twins’ third birthday, she found she wouldn’t change it for the world.

1305 - The Kensingtons

Going through labor a third time, Marci feels as if she has it all under control. Much like before, she is guided to bed and watched carefully by the village’s midwife. It’s times like these that Marci misses her mother dearly, yet with Esteban having ran to fetch Dayana, she is comforted by the thought that she wouldn’t be completely void of woman relatives this time around.

Squeezing tightly to hands of both her cousin and husband, the latter’s presence much to the disapproval of their midwife, Marci eventually gives birth to a little boy. After some thought, the three of them come up with the name Emil, and then the twins are fetched back inside the house to meet their little brother.

1306 - The Kensingtons

Celebrations for Emil’s second birthday turns solemn when Esteban catches a fever that leaves him bedridden for days. Marci is worried when the week of his 20th birthday comes around and Esteban appears to show little energy for celebrating the milestone. When Emiliano and Haven begin to express worry, she reassures them their father will turn out just fine with a bit of soup and, too young to understand fully, their concerns are mollified.

That night, Marci dreams of the Grim Reaper standing above Esteban’s cold, dead body. She recalls her endless pleading turning into demands full of denial of her husband’s death. She remembers the Grim Reaper conceding to her demands and the sight of Esteban’s body rising above the floor.

Later that week, Esteban appears well enough to blow out the candles of his cake.

The cool October air hits Marci’s face as she hops, with as much grace as she can offer, off the wagon. She hands a couple of simoleons to its rider, and glances toward Dayana, the both of them heading off in the direction of Galbury Tavern. Dayana had asked Marci for help in acquiring a suitable husband. Her mother had not pestered her on the topic yet, but Dayana had said she wanted to start choosing now rather later. Not one to let her cousin venture off in the city alone (and quite hoping to enjoy the nicer kind of ale that arrived during fall’s herbs), Marci was more than happy to agree.

The Galbury Tavern was operated by the Forger family. Rumor being that Antony — the owner — had abandoned the life of smithing his previous presuccessors (and the ones behind them) had carried on. As Marci and Dayana walks inside, however, they are instead greeted by the sight of Antony’s pregnant wife, Beatrice. Marci smiles at the woman, orders a mug of ale, and settles down at one of the tables.

And so, the next few hours is spent matchmaking.

next (chrono) // next (kensington) // previous

#‘after some thought’ I say as emil’s name bares a striking resemblance to emiliano’s #morbid's ultimate decades challenge #kensington 1300s #ep 3 #sims 4 medieval #kensingtons generation 1 #sims 4 decades challenge #ultimate decades challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims historical #the sims 4 #medieval #kensington #beaumont 1300s

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thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 2 years ago

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To The Victor Chapter Two - Tell Me Your Name

Summary: Although Omegas had won the legal battle for equal rights, society was slow to catch up. Thought to be the weakest of the genders, they struggled to find opportunities that Alphas and Betas took for granted. Known as the Guillotine, Emmaline Beaumont was woman with a secret. Head of her family’s company; she was smart, shrewd, and tough as nails. At sixteen she presented as Omega and she’s hidden it ever since. Suppressants and hormone reassignment therapy allowed her to live her life as the Alpha her family needed her to be. The perfect solution, so long as she never allowed herself to be claimed. As the President of Winchester Inc. Dean’s professional life was golden. As an unmated Alpha nearing forty, he was restless. Charming and devastatingly handsome, Dean was rarely without female company, but he wanted more. He wanted what his parents had. Someone made especially for him. His match, his true mate. Finding her on a trip to New York had been an unexpected dream come true, but no one ever said the road to love was easy.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!OFC, Dean x OFC, Dean Winchester x OFC

Characters: Dean Winchester, OFC, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, John Winchester, Jody Mills

Warnings: ABO dynamics, Heat/Rut cycles, Smut (Unprotected sex, knotting, oral sex, claiming bites), hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals and medical talk, fluff and angst, age difference (Dean is 39, OFC is 27), True mates, self hate (OFC struggles with gender)

Chapter Two: Tell Me Your Name

Word Count: 3752

Masterlist

To The Victor Masterlist

Emma wasn’t sure how long she slept, but damn if it wasn’t the best sleep of her entire life. Sunlight streaked through the gap in the curtains suggested it was morning, or maybe afternoon? Who cares? Her body felt delightfully used, tiny aches and twinges reminded her of a night spent having the most intense sex of her life. She stretched languidly, like a lazy cat that got the cream. When her movements met resistance, she froze. The warm, hard body pressed up against her back brought a Cheshire grin to her lips. One of his massive legs was thrown over both of hers and the arm wrapped around her waist held her firmly in place. Possessive, even in sleep. Emma ghosted her fingers over the hand resting against her stomach. Strong hands, dusted in faint freckles and light, golden hair. Talented too if last night was any indication.

I wonder what else he can do with his hands…

The voice in her ear was deep and husky from sleep, “That tickles.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, turning over in his grasp so she could face him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His eyes were half-mast, and he gave her a sleepy smile, “Mmm, it’s okay. Good way to wake up.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back, not yet ready to release her from his arms “You sleep good?”

She nodded, feeling inexplicably shy. It was beginning to dawn on her that she was well and truly mated to a stranger. Emma was used to initiating her sexual encounters, being the Alpha and staying in control. Most of them were brief and casual, her professional life didn’t leave room for much else. This was a whole different deck of cards. Doubts that were pushed aside in the vcdr4 night were now edging forward in the light of day.

Although the bond between them was still fresh, Dean could feel her unease. There was worry there. “’Mega? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” was the quick reply, not wanting to upset him. “I just didn’t want to ruin the mood… bathroom.” She said with a self-deprecating eye roll.

He studied her face intensely then grunted and let the subject drop for the moment. “Yeah, of course.”

She leaned in and gave him an enthusiastic kiss before extracting herself from his hold.

Dean watched her slide gracefully out of the bed. Semi-hard just catching a glimpse of her naked form before she scooped up his discarded t-shirt from the floor. It swallowed her small frame, sadly obscuring her fantastic curves from his view. He couldn’t help himself from reaching out and catching her hand. When she turned to look down at him, his heart stopped. God, she’s beautiful. Her dark hair was tangled, lips swollen, eyes luminous. She looked like an angel.

“Tell me your name, ‘Mega mine.”

She a warm blush crept into her cheeks and her stomach fluttered. ‘Mega mine. He had called her that last night. Somehow it hadn’t even crossed her mind that they never got around to exchanging names. She smiled softly, “It’s Emma.”

A feeling of rightness settled within him as he toyed with her slender fingers. He was certain he would remember this moment for the rest of his life. The rest of his life with her.

“Emma,” he grinned, testing the feel of it. He brought her hand to his lips, keeping eye contact while he brushed a tender kiss across her knuckles. “I’m Dean.”

On the surface, it was innocent, taken right from the pages of any fairytale. Yet somehow, this gesture was far more intimate than what they had shared last night. No one had ever been so soft with her, so romantic. In that moment, she felt treasured.

God, he’s beautiful. He looked up at her like a knight pledging his life to his queen. She sank back down onto the mattress and studied his face, committing it to memory. It was so hard to explain, the connection, the feeling deep down in her soul that this was her mate. She knew him in this life and would know him in the next. Yet, he was a stranger. So much to discover, so much to come! How wonderful!

She ran her hand over his beard-covered cheek, and she pressed a kiss to his lips, “Hi, Dean.”

“Hi,” he returned, chuckling when she bit her lip and blushed deep pink all the way up to the roots of her hair.

The things he could do to her just saying one word! Emma slid off the bed as her fanciful musings were interrupted by her insistent bladder. “I, ah. I’ll just be a minute.”

Dean followed the sway of her hips with great appreciation as she crossed the room, shutting the bathroom door behind her. “Emma,” he said to himself as he laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned against the headboard. “My Omega.”

A quick search of the elegant bathroom produced toothpaste and a hairbrush. Small bars of hotel soap emblazoned with a familiar crest caught her attention. The Ritz Carlton.

Well at least now I know where I am.

Emma had to laugh at herself as she tried to work through the tangled mess on top of her head. She hadn’t given it a second thought when Dean carried her through the streets. He could have taken her anywhere, after all, he was a stranger. Now here she was trying to piece together information about him before her heat took over and clouded her mind again. She picked up a bottle of expensive cologne from the vanity and gave it a tentative sniff. Subtle, clean, and complimentary to his natural scent.

Nice to know my Alpha has decent taste. God… my Alpha! How did that happen?!

The reflection staring back at her was a far cry from the sleek businesswoman she projected during the work week. This woman was wanton, rumpled. Dean’s heady scent clung to her skin. Small bruises on her hips where he had dug in his fingers. Kiss-swollen lips. Mouth-shaped marks on her throat, breasts, and collarbone where he had sucked and nipped. She was a mess, but damn if she didn’t look and feel more alive than she ever had in her life!

Her fingers went to the raised mark on her neck where Dean had claimed her. It should be tender, but it wasn’t. Her Alpha had done a good job cleaning it, hardly any blood was left behind. She should be upset, nervous, at uncertainty this would bring, the upheaval in her life. Perhaps that would come later.

Emma never expected to be claimed, she certainly never expected to like it. She committed herself to being an Alpha, to running her family’s business, to doing what was expected of her. Her work was her life. Some would call it an obsession, but to her it was duty. It never occurred to her that there was another choice. There was never any time to dwell on it, perhaps that was by design. If she never allowed herself to wonder about what if, then she would never ache for something she would never have.

It wasn’t supposed to happen, yet here she was. A claimed Omega. She had been warned against it by her parents and the family doctor who had altered her presented status when she was just sixteen. It was supposed to be dangerous. Hell, it was supposed to be lethal.

Were they wrong or had they just lied to her all these years? Because she didn’t feel like she was on death’s doorstep. She felt more powerful and sure of herself now than she ever did pretending to be something else. The fear and uncertainty never came, instead Emma felt completely settled. As if she had an answer to a question never asked. If this was what being claimed meant, how could it be a bad thing?

It wasn’t going to be easy; it was going to complicate everything. Emma grinned and her cheeks flushed with excitement as she thought of the Alpha waiting for her to return. What a delightful complication it was!

Dean was scouring the room service menus when she returned. Grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, he had his back to her, and he didn’t turn at her approach. She paused, quietly taking the opportunity to observe. Details of him that escaped her notice in the throes of passion were prominent now. Those sweet freckles were scattered across the tanned skin of his shoulders. They added a softness to muscles she knew to be firm and unyielding. His long legs were bowed, and his feet were bare. Dark blonde hair spiked in tufts due to sweat and her tugging on it in her urgency. He turned slightly and she could see his lips moving a bit, his brows scrunching up as he considered the breakfast options.

Emma leaned against the doorframe and smiled fondly. Gosh, he’s cute!

At last, sensing her stare, Dean looked up and snapped the menu book closed as if he had been caught reading something he shouldn’t. “Hey! So, I was thinking full breakfast, bacon, waffles, the works. Then I thought you might like pizza, or we could go all out and have surf ‘n turf. They’ve got salads too, if you’re into rabbit food.”

Christ, Dean! Stop babbling, you sound like a freaking teenager!

Damn if he didn’t feel like one too. His heart sped up and his palms got sweaty just looking at her. Wearing his shirt and his mark. His.

“Anything you want, Omega” he chuckled, giving himself over to the feeling of Cupid’s arrow in his heart. He spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the world. “I’ll give you anything.”

The Alpha’s pledge was not lost on Emma and the Omega within sighed happily. She was a capable woman; she never needed a man, Alpha or no. Her self-reliance and independence were qualities she prided herself on. Built her company on, built her reputation on, built her whole life on. Yet, she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to have someone else take over, even if for something as simple as getting dinner.

“Dessert.”

Mesmerized, he watched her saunter towards him in that confident way women did when they tapped into their sexual power. In moments like this, he could easily see how Cleopatra had gotten Caesar to do her bidding. Dean would surely topple empires for his Omega.

Emma slid her palms up his chest as his arms came around her. “You’ve got a taste for something sweet?” he asked.

“Pie.” She grinned, eyes dancing, her tongue peeking out from between her teeth.

He chuckled at the quick reply, “My favorite, we must be made for each other.”

She dropped her gaze to focus on the constellation like freckles scattered across his collarbones. She knew it deep in her gut and it was reinforced every time she saw him, touched him. Dean was her Alpha. It was as certain to her as the sun rise, yet there was a nagging doubt in her mind. Not everyone believed in true mates. Hell, until a few hours ago, she would have doubted it herself.

“You feel it too then?” She meant to sound sultry and confident. Instead, it came out vulnerable and shy. Absurd, considering the night they had spent together. Maybe it was the bond coming from the claim, maybe it her inner Omega nature. She simply couldn’t pretend with him.

“I caught your scent five blocks away and when I saw you… there’s not a doubt in my mind. There is no one else. We’re true mates, Emma.” He crooked his finger under her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life.”

“I wasn’t sure… most people don’t believe. Think its all silly kid stuff. Fairy tales.”

Dean could feel the uncertainty and worry flowing through their bond. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to soothe her. “I don’t think its silly kid stuff. Do you?”

She shook her head, but there was still something lingering there. Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on it and that upset him. He was the Alpha, it was his job to make it right, whatever it was. But he couldn’t do that if he didn’t know what the problem was. His mind started to race, and he found himself frowning at the possibility that this had been a mistake. It’s not as if they had discussed it beforehand.

“I know this all happened fast and we don’t know each other. Not really.” His fingers found the mark he left on her mating gland. “If you regret this, if you don’t want this, we can find a way to undo it.”

His stomach clenched at the very thought of it and the Alpha within him howled. No! My Omega! Mine! It took every bit of strength and resolve to even speak of it, but he would. He would do whatever it took to make her happy, even if that meant gutting himself in the process. That was the depth of the bond, so new and yet more powerful than anything he had ever experienced.

He swallowed thickly, “It’s not easy, but it can be done.”

Her eyes shot up and she chewed nervously on her lip. She had heard of such procedures. Rare and dangerous, they were only used in the most extreme circumstances. If one’s mate died unexpectedly, sometimes the Alpha or Omega left behind would grieve the loss so acutely that they would have the bonding gland removed. It was the only way to find relief from the pain. And even so, the mate left behind would be left numb and never able to bond with anyone else. Emma shuddered to think about it.

“Is… is that what you want? To break the bond?”

“No! Not at all. But I can feel something is bothering you. If it’s not the claim, then what is it?” Dean gently tugged her in close, coaxing her nose close to the crook of his neck where his scent would be strongest.

He held her firmly until he could feel her take a deep breath and relax into him. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” She murmured against his chest, enjoying the warmth and stability she found there. “It’s just that I never really considered the possibility.”

“The possibility of true mates?”

“Of being claimed.” She clarified. “I suppose that sounds strange coming from an Omega, I just didn’t think about it. And now that I am…. It’s different.”

“Different good or different bad?” Dean dared to ask.

Her smile was slow to bloom, but it was genuine. As if she were surprised at her own feelings on the matter. “Different good. Really good.”

He blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You really know how to worry a guy, you know that?”

“Sorry,” she chuckled.

He chuckled too when he heard her stomach growl loudly. “So, pie huh?”

“French silk. The Ritz has the best in the city.”

“Alright,” he agreed, brushing his lips over hers before releasing her. “I better order extra; you’re going to need your strength.”

Emma padded over to the kitchenette where Dean had already brewed a pot of coffee. Normally that would be her preference, but the incredibly bitter smell had her seeking out something milder. A quick search produced a selection of tea bags that sounded far better. She listened idly to Dean making the room service order while her mug of water warmed in the microwave. Typical Alpha, he was ordering enough to feed the armies of Genghis Khan!

Lord, I’m cold! She thought with a shiver. Maybe the air conditioner is malfunctioning.

She rubbed her hands together while she watched the mug go round the turntable. So cold, freezing actually. Like ice water running through her veins. But that was wrong, she was in heat. Aptly named. Omegas in heat were never cold, they often ran fevers and had intense sweats during that process. Was this different because she had suppressed her cycle for so long?

Suddenly, a burning pain shot through the claim mark. Her hand flew to the spot, urgently trying to rub the pain out, but it only got worse. When the room began to spin, she panicked.

“Dean.”

The Alpha glanced over at the sound of his name. The distress flowing through their bond went straight to his gut. He closed the distance between them in three long strides. “’Mega, what’s wrong?”

She blinked slowly up at him, and her knees gave as the color drained from her face. “Dean.”

With his quick reflexes, Dean had her in his arms and held tightly against his chest. His protective instincts flaring as she shook in his grasp, whimpering softly.

“Baby, talk to me,” he begged, placing her on a low couch. Her beautiful midnight eyes squeezed closed on a grimace of pain. His hands urgently searched her over for the cause, “Is it your heat? Are you sick?”

Emma knew this was a reaction to being claimed, all the signs were there. She shivered violently and could feel her body shutting itself down. God, it was happening quick! Her chattering teeth made her words waver, “No, I need… need phone. My phone… pocket”

Dean scrambled to the bedroom. Her clothes along with his own were strewn across the floor, but luck was on his side. The hoodie sticking out from under the bed had a side zipper pocket that housed a sleek smart phone. He grabbed a blanket from the bed on his way and ran back to her side.

By the time he came back, she could barely keep her eyes open. The shivering had stopped, everything seemed to be slowing down. Shock, she supposed. She couldn’t quite feel Dean the way that she had before, it was as if their bond was shrinking, fading away. The burning of the mark was gone as well. She barely registered the blanket he tucked around her. Everything seemed so far away. But she could hear him talking to her and when she finally got her eyes to focus, she saw his green ones staring back, filled with worry.

Dean placed a hand on her forehead, gently smoothing her hair back. “’Mega, I’m calling a doctor, alright? I’m going to get you some help.”

She shook her head weakly. Her fingers were icy as she took the phone from his hand. “No,” she rasped, using every bit of energy she had to punch in the code that unlocked the screen. “Jess… sister. Call Jess. She knows… what to… do.”

When her eyes fluttered shut and the phone dropped from her lax fingers, Dean’s heart clenched with fear. “Emma?! Baby?” He nearly stopped breathing himself, until her saw the shallow rise of her chest.

Common sense said that 911 was the obvious number to call or even the front desk. A world class hotel like this one likely had a doctor on call. Still, she had been insistent, and she trusted him to take care of her. He hesitated only for a moment then scrolled through her contact list and found a listing for Jess.

The line rang twice before a perky, feminine voice answered, “Emmy?”

“Is this Jess?”

The easy tone changed to one of hostile suspicion, “Who the hell is this?”

“My name’s Dean, are you Emma’s sister?”

“Yeah, where is…?”

Desperate to move things along, Dean cut her off, “She’s here but she passed out… I don’t know, she’s sick or something. Told me to call you for help.”

“What?! What the hell is going on?!”

“Listen lady, I don’t have time to walk you through the damned details! My Omega needs help and if you don’t tell me what to do for her, I’m going to call 911.” Dean threatened, malice laced his words, his Alpha front and center. The instinct to protect and care for his mate took over every rationale.

Jess matched his tone with a stern one of her own, “Well you better make time and tell me… wait a minute… are you a fucking Alpha?! Did you claim her?!”

Something in the way Jess said those words heightened Dean’s panic. This was bad, and he had no idea just how bad it was. Foreboding pricked up his spine and dread settled in his stomach. “Yes, what damned difference does that make?”

“Listen to me very carefully, Emma can’t be claimed. It’s hard to explain and too late now anyway but calling a regular doctor won’t help.” Jess took a calming breath, “Where are you?”

“The Ritz Carlton, room 307.”

“I’m sending our family doctor, he’s been treating her since she was a kid,” Jess explained, she struggled to keep the tears from her voice. Her sister needed her to be strong, “I know your Alpha machismo won’t want him anywhere near her, but please. If you care about Emmy at all, you’ll let him do what he can.”

She abruptly hung up, presumably to call the doctor. Dean carefully set the phone down on the table, making sure it was set to ring incase Jess called back. Half of him hoped she would, the other half was afraid of what other information she would have if she did. As it was, he was far from reassured. In fact, he was fucking terrified.

He sank down onto the edge of the coffee table next to the sofa. With elbows on knees and his head in his hands, he prayed. He wasn’t a religious man, but his mother had been adamant about instilling a foundation of faith in both him and his brother. It was his mother that his thoughts drifted to now, if he had an angel looking out for him, it would be Mary Winchester.

Please… I can’t lose her now. I’ve only just found her. Please, Mom, tell me I’m doing the right thing here. We’re just getting started…

He abruptly crossed to the main door and made sure it was unlocked for the doctor, then did the only thing he could. He sat on the sofa and settled his unconscious mate on his lap. Dean nuzzled the crook of her neck and tried not to be even more worried when he found her delicate scent fading.

#alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x ofc #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #Jensen x ofc #spn fic #supernatural #To The Victor

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thebuzztrack · 1 year ago

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A Review of David Lynch’s ‘Blue Velvet’ (1986)

David Lynch plunges into the dark and twisted underbelly of a seemingly idyllic American town called Lumberton with his fever dream of a movie, Blue Velvet (1986). The film follows Jeffrey Beaumont (Kyle MacLachlan), a college student who returns to his hometown after his father suffers a stroke and has to be hospitalized. He stumbles upon a severed human ear in a field near his home and becomes obsessed with solving the mystery behind it. He meets Sandy Williams (Laura Dern), a high school girl whose father is a detective working on the case. Together, they peel off the layers of crime, corruption, and perversion involving a sadistic drug dealer Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper), and a mysterious nightclub singer Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini).

This is a film that defies easy categorization. It is part noir, horror, comedy, and surrealism. It is a film that challenges the viewer’s expectations and morality. It is a film that exposes the hidden violence and depravity that lurks beneath the surface of everyday life. It is a film that contrasts innocence and purity of love against the brutality and corruption of lust. It explores the themes of voyeurism, identity, duality, and power.

Blue Velvet is also a film that showcases Lynch’s unique cinematic style and vision. It is full of striking images, sounds, and symbols that create a dreamlike atmosphere and evoke strong emotions. The film uses color, lighting, music, and sound effects to create contrast and tension. For example, the film uses blue to indicate mystery, danger, and desire, while red represents violence, passion, and blood. The film also uses lighting to create mood and suspense, such as using shadows, darkness, and neon lights. The film features memorable performances from the cast, especially Hopper, who delivers one of his most iconic and terrifying roles as Frank Booth, a psychotic criminal who inhales gas from a mask and abuses Dorothy sexually and emotionally. The film also has an unforgettable soundtrack that includes Roy Orbison’s “In Dreams,” Bobby Vinton’s “Blue Velvet,” and Angelo Badalamenti’s original score, which create a contrast between the nostalgic and romantic songs and the disturbing and violent scenes.

The film has influenced many other filmmakers and genres, such as neo-noir, indie cinema, and psychological thriller. It has been widely praised by critics and audiences alike. And it has been recognized as one of Lynch’s masterpieces and one of the best films of the 1980s. It deserves to be seen and appreciated by anyone who loves cinema and wants to experience a unique and powerful vision.

Blue Velvet is like a fever dream nightmare you cannot wake up from. It is like a wound that never heals. It is like a song that haunts you forever.

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#crime movies #drama movies #movies #movie review #review #David Lynch #Kyle MacLachlan #Laura Dern #Dennis Hopper #Isabella Rossellini #Youtube

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moodliving · 1 month ago

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Transform Your Space with Mood Living: The Premier Interior Decorator in Beaumont Hills, NSW

Are you dreaming of a home that reflects your style and meets your lifestyle needs? Achieving the perfect interior design can be challenging, especially when you want to balance aesthetics with functionality. Whether it's a contemporary refresh, a luxurious upgrade, or a complete home renovation, having a professional interior decorator on your side makes all the difference. At Mood Living, we’re here to help homeowners in Beaumont Hills, NSW, create beautiful, personalized spaces that captivate and inspire.

Why Choose an Interior Decorator in Beaumont Hills?

Decorating your home goes beyond selecting furniture, colors, and accessories; it's about creating an environment that resonates with your personality and supports your daily living. An experienced interior decorator can turn a house into a home that feels tailored to you in every detail. Here’s why you should consider professional interior decorating services in Beaumont Hills:

Personalized Design Solutions: Every home and homeowner is unique. Our decorators ensure that the designs are tailored to meet your specific tastes and requirements, creating a cohesive look that flows throughout the space.

Expertise in Style and Functionality: Knowing how to blend aesthetics and functionality takes a trained eye. We help you choose designs that not only look stunning but also enhance the practicality of your living spaces.

Access to Exclusive Resources: Our professional connections with suppliers and tradespeople ensure that you get access to unique materials, custom furnishings, and quality craftsmanship that may not be available to the public.

Time and Budget Efficiency: Save yourself the hassle of coordinating with contractors, sourcing materials, and avoiding costly design mistakes. We manage all aspects of the project, ensuring everything stays within budget and on schedule.

Mood Living: Interior Decorating Services in Beaumont Hills

At Mood Living, we’re passionate about transforming homes into stunning spaces that exude comfort, style, and elegance. Our range of interior decorating services caters to different design preferences, budgets, and project scopes. Here’s what we offer:

1. Comprehensive Interior Styling

Our interior styling service is perfect for homeowners who want to refresh their space or achieve a complete style transformation. We start by understanding your vision, preferences, and lifestyle needs, and then work on creating a personalized design plan. From selecting color palettes and furniture to sourcing decorative elements and artwork, we ensure every detail contributes to the overall look and feel of your space.

Key Features of Our Interior Styling Services:

Customized design plans for each room

Selection of furnishings, accessories, and finishes

Professional styling to create a cohesive look

Expert advice on layout and spatial planning

2. Home Renovations and Makeovers

Thinking of renovating your home in Beaumont Hills? Our home makeover services cater to homeowners looking to revamp their spaces with a fresh, modern look. We manage every aspect of the renovation, from initial design concepts to project execution, ensuring a seamless experience from start to finish.

Benefits of Our Home Renovation Services:

Project management to ensure timely completion

Quality craftsmanship and premium materials

Renovation solutions tailored to your lifestyle and budget

Coordination with trusted tradespeople and suppliers

3. Eco-Friendly Interior Design Solutions

At Mood Living, we are committed to sustainability and eco-friendly design. We offer eco-conscious interior decorating services that incorporate sustainable materials, energy-efficient lighting, and environmentally responsible furnishings. Creating a beautiful home shouldn’t come at the expense of the environment, and we help you make choices that contribute to a healthier planet.

Eco-Friendly Design Services Include:

Use of sustainable, non-toxic materials

Recommendations for energy-efficient lighting and appliances

Selection of eco-friendly furnishings and decor

Incorporation of indoor plants to enhance air quality

4. Custom Design Consultations

If you need guidance on your interior decorating project but prefer a more hands-on approach, our custom design consultation services are ideal. Our experts provide personalized advice on design concepts, color schemes, and furnishing selections to help you achieve the look you desire. During the consultation, we focus on understanding your goals, answering your design-related questions, and offering professional insights that elevate your project.

What You Get from a Design Consultation:

Expert guidance on color choices, layouts, and styles

Personalized recommendations tailored to your needs

Inspiration for DIY projects or future renovations

Access to a professional decorator’s insights without full-service commitment

Why Mood Living Stands Out in Beaumont Hills, NSW

Mood Living has established itself as a trusted interior decorating service in Beaumont Hills and surrounding areas. Our commitment to excellence and passion for design are evident in every project we undertake. Here’s what sets us apart:

Client-Centric Approach We believe that the best results come from collaboration. Our team works closely with clients to understand their vision and preferences, ensuring that the final outcome exceeds expectations. We listen to your ideas, provide professional advice, and guide you through each step of the design process.

Attention to Detail Great design lies in the details. From the choice of fabrics and finishes to the placement of decorative elements, we pay close attention to every aspect of the project, ensuring a polished and cohesive result.

Versatility and Flexibility Whether it’s a luxurious contemporary space, a minimalist modern look, or a cozy traditional style, our decorators have the skills and expertise to bring any vision to life. We offer flexible services that cater to different project sizes and budgets, making beautiful interior design accessible to everyone.

Quality and Durability At Mood Living, we believe in using the highest quality materials to ensure that your home not only looks beautiful but also lasts. We prioritize durability and quality craftsmanship, so you can enjoy your newly decorated space for years to come.

Popular Interior Design Styles for Beaumont Hills Homes

When it comes to decorating homes in Beaumont Hills, NSW, certain interior design styles are particularly popular among homeowners. Here are some styles that our clients often request:

1. Modern Contemporary

Characterized by clean lines, neutral colors, and a mix of materials, modern contemporary design focuses on simplicity and elegance. It often incorporates metal, glass, and natural wood elements to create a sleek and sophisticated look.

2. Hamptons Style

Inspired by the coastal luxury homes of the Hamptons, this style is perfect for creating a relaxed yet refined atmosphere. Think light colors, natural textures, and elegant furnishings that evoke a sense of coastal charm.

3. Scandinavian Minimalism

Scandinavian design is all about simplicity, functionality, and comfort. This style favors a light, airy color palette, natural materials, and minimalist decor, making it ideal for small spaces or homeowners who appreciate a clutter-free environment.

4. Industrial Chic

For those who love a more edgy and urban aesthetic, industrial chic design incorporates raw materials such as exposed brick, metal, and reclaimed wood. It is often paired with modern elements for a balanced look.

The Mood Living Experience: Bringing Your Dream Home to Life

Our goal at Mood Living is to make the interior decorating process enjoyable, inspiring, and rewarding. We understand that your home is more than just a place to live; it’s a reflection of who you are. That’s why we focus on creating designs that not only look beautiful but also feel personal and functional.

Step 1: Consultation

Our process starts with a comprehensive consultation where we discuss your design goals, preferences, budget, and timeline. This helps us understand your vision and set the foundation for a successful project.

Step 2: Design Plan

Based on your input, we create a detailed design plan that outlines the color schemes, furnishings, materials, and layouts. We present this plan to you for approval, ensuring that you are happy with every detail.

Step 3: Sourcing and Styling

Once the design plan is approved, we start sourcing furniture, decor, and materials. Our team of skilled decorators styles each space to perfection, creating a cohesive and polished look.

Step 4: Final Reveal

After completing the styling, we present your transformed space. Our decorators make any final adjustments to ensure everything is just right, leaving you with a beautiful home that you'll love for years to come.

Partner with Mood Living for Exceptional Interior Decorating in Beaumont Hills

Are you ready to elevate your living space with the help of a professional interior decorator in Beaumont Hills, NSW? At Mood Living, we are dedicated to helping you achieve the home of your dreams with expert decorating services tailored to your needs.

Get in touch with us today to schedule a consultation and discover how we can transform your space into a beautiful and inspiring environment. Your dream home is just a step away!

#MoodLiving #InteriorDecorator #BeaumontHills #HomeMakeover #InteriorDesign #LuxuryLiving #BespokeInteriors #EcoFriendlyDesign #HomeRenovation

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techtired · 5 months ago

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Discovering Adelaide's Premier Lighting Destinations: A Comprehensive Guide

Lighting does more than illuminate a room; it sets the mood, highlights key features, and enhances the aesthetic appeal of your space. Whether decorating a new home or upgrading an office, finding the perfect lighting is essential. Adelaide is home to some of the finest lighting stores, each offering a unique array of fixtures and services to suit your needs. This guide explores the best lighting stores across Adelaide and how they can transform your home or office with the ideal lighting solutions. Best Lighting Stores in Adelaide 1. DeLights DeLights is a leading name in Adelaide’s lighting industry. Known for its extensive collection and innovative designs, DeLights offers something for every style and purpose and is Adelaide's best lighting store. Offerings: - Contemporary Lighting: DeLights provides various contemporary lighting solutions, including pendant lights, floor lamps, and table lamps. Their modern designs cater to those who prefer sleek and sophisticated aesthetics. - Architectural Lighting: DeLights’ architectural lighting fixtures are perfect for those looking to make a statement. These pieces light up a room and are a focal point in your decor. - Outdoor Lighting: Their outdoor lighting collection ensures that your exterior spaces are as beautifully lit as your interiors. From garden lights to outdoor wall lamps, DeLights has it all. - Energy-Efficient Solutions: DeLights is committed to sustainability, offering energy-efficient lighting options that reduce electricity consumption without compromising style or brightness. Services: - Consultation and Design: DeLights provides expert consultation services to help you choose the perfect lighting for your space. Their designers work closely with clients to understand their needs and preferences. - Installation: They offer professional installation services, ensuring your lighting fixtures are set up safely and correctly. DeLights' combination of high-quality products and exceptional customer service makes them a go-to destination for anyone looking to enhance their lighting setup. 2. Beaumont Lighting Located in the heart of Adelaide, Beaumont Lighting is renowned for its eclectic mix of traditional and contemporary lighting solutions. With over 30 years in the industry, Beaumont Lighting has built a reputation for offering high-quality products and personalized service. Offerings: - Classic Elegance: Beaumont Lighting specializes in classic lighting designs that bring a touch of elegance to any room. Their range includes chandeliers, wall sconces, and candelabras. - Modern Flair: For those who lean towards modern designs, Beaumont offers a variety of sleek and minimalist fixtures that add a contemporary edge to your decor. - Custom Lighting: Beaumont Lighting provides custom lighting solutions, allowing clients to create bespoke pieces that perfectly fit their space and style. Services: - Lighting Design Consultation: Beaumont Lighting offers comprehensive design consultations to help clients choose the right lighting solutions for their homes or offices. - Repair and Restoration: They provide repair and restoration services for vintage and antique lighting fixtures, giving new life to old favourites. Beaumont Lighting’s blend of classic and contemporary designs ensures they have something to offer for every taste and requirement. 3. Sunshine Lighting Sunshine Lighting is a trusted name in the Adelaide lighting market, known for their extensive range of products and commitment to quality. They cater to both residential and commercial clients, providing lighting solutions that are both functional and stylish. Offerings: - Residential Lighting: Sunshine Lighting’s residential range includes ceiling lights, wall lights, and table lamps in various styles and finishes. Their products are designed to complement any home decor. - Commercial Lighting: They offer a comprehensive selection of commercial lighting solutions, including LED panels, downlights, and high bay lights. These products are ideal for offices, retail spaces, and industrial environments. - Smart Lighting: Sunshine Lighting embraces the latest technology with its smart lighting solutions. These fixtures can be controlled remotely, offering convenience and energy savings. Services: - Lighting Design Services: Sunshine Lighting provides professional lighting design services to ensure their clients’ spaces are perfectly illuminated. - Installation and Maintenance: They offer installation and maintenance services, ensuring your lighting fixtures are always in top condition. Sunshine Lighting’s extensive range and focus on quality make it a popular choice for homeowners and businesses in Adelaide. 4. Illuminations Lighting Illuminations Lighting is a boutique lighting store in Adelaide known for its curated selection of high-end lighting fixtures. They specialize in unique and designer pieces that make a statement. Offerings: - Designer Lighting: Illuminations Lighting features an array of designer lighting fixtures from renowned brands. Their collection includes pendant lights, chandeliers, and wall lights that are as much about art as about illumination. - Artisanal Pieces: They offer a selection of artisanal lighting fixtures crafted by skilled artisans. These pieces are perfect for adding a touch of individuality and character to your space. - Outdoor Lighting: Illuminations Lighting also offers a range of stylish outdoor lighting solutions to enhance your garden, patio, or driveway. Services: - Personalized Consultations: Illuminations Lighting provides customised consultation services to help clients select the perfect lighting fixtures for their homes or offices. - Custom Designs: They offer custom design services, allowing clients to create one-of-a-kind lighting fixtures tailored to their preferences. With its focus on high-quality and unique designs, Illuminations Lighting is ideal for those looking to add a touch of luxury to their lighting setup. 5. Australian Lighting Australian Lighting has been serving Adelaide for over 20 years, providing diverse lighting solutions for residential and commercial spaces. They are known for their excellent customer service and extensive product range. Offerings: - Ceiling Fans: Besides lighting fixtures, Australian Lighting offers a wide range of ceiling fans that combine functionality with style. - Energy-Efficient Lighting: They provide various energy-efficient lighting options, including LED and solar-powered fixtures. - Decorative Lighting: Australian Lighting’s decorative lighting range includes everything from elegant chandeliers to whimsical pendant lights. Services: - Lighting Advice: Their knowledgeable staff offers expert advice on choosing the right lighting solutions for your space. - Installation Services: Australian Lighting provides professional installation services to ensure your lighting fixtures are installed correctly and safely. Australian Lighting’s comprehensive product range and commitment to customer satisfaction make it a reliable choice for all your lighting needs. 6. LightCo LightCo is a popular lighting store in Adelaide that is known for its modern and innovative lighting solutions. They cater to various styles and preferences, making finding the perfect lighting for any space easy. Offerings: - Modern Lighting: LightCo specializes in modern lighting fixtures that feature clean lines and contemporary designs. Their collection includes pendant lights, floor lamps, and wall sconces. - Architectural Lighting: For those looking to make a statement, LightCo offers a range of architectural lighting fixtures that are both functional and artistic. - Outdoor Lighting: Their outdoor lighting solutions are designed to enhance the beauty and functionality of your exterior spaces. Services: - Lighting Design Consultation: LightCo provides expert lighting design consultation services to help clients choose the right fixtures for their homes or offices. - Custom Lighting Solutions: They offer custom lighting solutions, allowing clients to create unique pieces that reflect their style. LightCo’s focus on modern and innovative designs makes it a favourite among those looking to add a contemporary touch to its lighting setup. Conclusion Adelaide is home to some of the finest lighting stores, each offering unique products and services to suit every need and preference. Whether you're looking for contemporary designs, classic elegance, or innovative solutions, these stores have something to offer. From the extensive collections at DeLights and Beaumont Lighting to the artisanal pieces at Illuminations Lighting, you’re sure to find the perfect lighting solution to illuminate your home or office beautifully. Explore these stores to find the lighting that best suits your style and enhances your space. Read the full article

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darklydeliciousdesires · 4 months ago

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Light on the Darkside - Chapter Seven.

Huge thanks to the little regular LOTD book club for your enthusiasm, and a big, warm welcome to new readers @zablife and @meera10! Lovely to have you here, darlings!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,355

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“James? Ya’s getting up today, pet?”

His stare didn’t even flicker, lying on his side, eyes fixed on a point past where Mary stood. “Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been doing so well lately and look at ya’s now! All sullen again. Do you want to tell us what’s wrong?” It had been four days of watching him slowly retreat into himself, but this was by far the worst downturn in his mood. It was now concerning.

He gave no response to her question, eyes still boring a stare into the wall opposite his bed.

“Alright,” she asserted, sitting her bulk down on the edge of the mattress. “How about we have a chat about music, hmm?”

That usually pulled him from his gloom, Mary knowing if there was one subject James could chatter away about at length, it was anything musical. Again, his face didn’t even flicker. This wasn’t good. “Nothing to say, hmm? I’ll have to report this to Dr. Beaumont, love. I can’t have you just lying here not responding to us.”

“M’alright,” he finally muttered. “Just wanna stay here.”

“Ya’s can stay here, but I don’t believe you’re alright, pet. I’ll have to get a doctor up for an emergency assessment.” She pulled her walkie-talkie from her belt, about to call down to the nurses station when his hand reached to grasp hers. That was big for him, James not being a particularly affectionate person.

“Don’t do that, please. I just wanna stay here and not be poked at or fucking questioned, innit. Got enough noise in my head, Mary. I want quiet, that’s all I need. I’m not gonna fucking rampage or nothing, or try and do myself in again.”

She knew from experience that his words were only likely half true. “Tell you what, I’ll cut you a deal. You tell me what’s wrong and I’ll hold off on calling for a doctor. Ya’s can’t go back to bottling things up, James. We both know it doesn’t do you any good.”

He finally shifted, turning onto his back, his hand still clasping hers. “Fucking got myself in a top grade mess, Mary. Dunno what the fuck to do.” He paused, the kindly nurse letting him gather his thoughts, knowing well how he struggled to articulate himself at times. “Can I be moved out of here, to another facility? I think it’s what I need to do.”

What the hell had brought that thought on, she wondered, her thumb stroking over one of his knuckles. “It can happen, but it’s rare, pet. You have to give very good reason for requesting a transfer, and then there’s finding a bed for ya’s elsewhere, too. Why is it that you want to leave us?”

He took a breath, puffing his cheeks with a sigh. “Because I don’t think I’m gonna be able to concentrate on my recovery if I’m in the same place as Ella. Don’t wanna hurt her, or me. She deserves a better version of me, and I ain’t that right now.”

She had wondered. “I figured she might have had something to do with it. We’ve all noticed and been keeping an eye on ya’s both, over the last few months. Has something gone wrong with her? I wasn’t sure, because she’s been climbing the walls without ya’s around, asking us constantly where you are and if you’re alright.”

That hurt his heart, to hear she was acting exactly how he knew she would at him absconding to his room. “Nah, opposite,” he sniffed, scratching his chin. “I like her a bit too much, and it’s getting better I need to focus on. Not her. No matter how much I want to. That and I don’t like Dr. Beaumont. Don’t think her methods help me. She makes me feel like a lab rat.”

“Well, complaining about your doctor wouldn’t be enough for a transfer, but admitting a relationship with a fellow patient that you feel isn’t helping your mental state just might be. We do discourage that very thing for a reason, sweetheart.”

God, how he could see the sense in that now, now he was stuck in an emotional quagmire of his own making. “What needs to happen, for me to see if I can move somewhere else?”

“You’ll need to put in an official request, fill out some paperwork. Then it’ll either be approved or rejected by the senior doctors, while we search for any other facilities that could take you. Might not be in the Warwickshire area, though. Your next of kin would need to sign off on it as well,” she spoke, watching him nod.

“Get me the papers. I need out.”

“Alright, love. Get dressed and come down to the nurse's station with us, you can fill them out down there.”

“Yeah, alright. Sound.”

She went to wait for him outside, James quickly washing and running a brush through his hair before pulling on fresh clothes and walking with her down a floor. The main nurse’s station was on the ground floor, meaning he’d have to pass the common room. Of course, he was seen.

“James!”

He wanted to keep walking, but his feet rooted him to the spot, Ella running for the doorway and flinging her arms around him. “Why haven’t you been around? I was worried!”

The last thing he wanted. “Haven’t been feeling right, little. Look, I’ve gotta go with Mary. I’ll come and see you in a bit.”

“Are you okay, though?” she asked, hands stroking his chest. He shook his head.

“See you in a bit.”

Something cold and unpleasant licked her insides to see him like that, so distant and despondent. He’d barely even hugged her. There’d been no smile on his face. A horrible thought crept through her brain, a wondering she didn’t want to address. Was it her? Had he gone off her? Surely though, that wouldn’t lead to him sequestering himself upstairs away from everyone for four days, if it was just that.

Also, it was James. If he had a problem with somebody, he very much told them.

While she meandered back into the common room, he sat himself down at the other side of Mary’s desk, clipboard rested on his legs, beginning to fill out the paperwork he truly didn’t want to, but knew that he had to. Just seeing her there again after four days absence had made him simply want to pull her close and vanish into the happiness of her sunshine, but he knew he couldn’t. Not until he was better.

“James, I have to ask you,” Lucy, one of the nurses began, pointing at him with her pen. “What do you use on your hair to keep it so beautiful?”

“Wash & Go.”

Her mouth fell open. “Get out of here. You have hair that shiny and lovely from a two-in-one, and here’s me, hot oils, conditioning masks and all that malarkey! That’s not fair!”

Finally, his mouth twitched into a smile. “Yeah, I know. And I dye it, so it should be dryer than a nun’s crotch, but it ain’t.”

She threw her head back at his joke, laughing along with a couple of the other nurses. “Well, just so you know, I’m officially envious. Bloody beautiful hair.”

“Thanks.” Going back to the forms, he filled in each section, giving his account over why he wanted to transfer. Trepidation crept over him then, looking to Mary and making a beckoning motion. She leaned closer. “She won’t find out, will she? I don’t want her to know about this until I’ve gone. If I can go. She’ll only get upset and stressed.”

“No, pet,” she confirmed, “it’s all confidential.” Leaning back, her heart went out to him, seeing quite clearly how he was doing something that went against what he felt for the young woman he grown so obviously fond of, but proud of him for acting in what was likely both of their best interests. It showed growth and maturity. It was a shame; they were very sweet together. Recovery always took precedence, though.

“Right, I’ll get that handed in later. I’m going out the side for a smoke, guys. If that man from the stationary company calls again, tell him to bugger off. I’ll not be mithered about bloody box files!” she spoke, taking the clipboard back from him and detaching the sheets of paper.

“Can I come with you?” he asked as she stood, Mary nodding.

“Aye, you can. No bother.”

They left through the side door of the nurse's station, out to a part of the facility he’d never seen before. It backed onto the kitchens, the smell of lunch cooking making his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten much at all over the last few days.

Before Mary could reach for her own cigarettes, she had a pack of Benson & Hedges proffered in her direction, James lighting his own. “Thanks, love.”

“Out of everyone on staff, I’ll miss you the most if I go. You’ve always been cool, Mary. Always made me feel like a person and not just a fucking mental patient, innit.”

In truth, even though he’d been a handful upon arrival, she’d be sad to see him leave, too. In any other circumstance, it would have been happy, and she always enjoyed giving the patients a big hug in parting when they were well enough to leave the safety of Moor Acres. He wouldn’t be leaving because of wellness, though.

“In turn, I’ll miss not seeing you around here too, love. You’re the only person I can talk to about how Volume 4 is the best album Sabbath ever did.”

He grinned, albeit fleeting. “It is, though. I mean yeah, you have to give credit to the debut, but you’re right. Volume 4 is a solid masterpiece. Top grade amazing,” he replied, leaning back against the wall and taking a long drag on his cigarette, looking contemplative. “Mary, am I doing the right thing? She’s gonna feel like I’ve fucking abandoned her.”

In all of this, it was Ella he was probably more concerned about, and the nurse could see that clearly. “Aye, pet. I think ya’s are. As for Ella, perhaps instead of just leaving without telling the lass, sit her down and explain it, make her see that it’s not anything she’s done. Giving her a little time to come to terms with your decision might make it easier on her?”

He knew her well enough to know that it wouldn’t. She’d panic, she’s stew on it, and well...

“Can’t. I know her and I know she’ll try and get me to change my mind. I know me, too, and if I have to see her there crying and begging me not to go, I won’t. Simple facts, man. I’m too fucking weak for that lovely little thing. It’s gotta be this way.”

He looked troubled by it still, no matter the resolve, Mary cocking her head as she took a drag on her cigarette. “May I suggest you perhaps write her a letter, and I’ll give it to her once you’ve gone? If you go, that is?”

“That might work,” he nodded, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm.

“She has it right there then, in your words, telling her it wasn’t anything that she did. I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I sometimes think it’s easiest to write out how we feel than speak it.”

She made a very valid point. “Yeah, fair comment.” Crushing his cigarette beneath his boot, he leaned to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for being so cool.”

Smiling, she waved her hand. “It’s what they pay me for, pet.”

“Nah, you go beyond that,” she frowned. “You’re fucking sound, and I’m really sorry I was such a dickhead to you when I first got here, scratching you and trying to bite you and all that.”

“I’ve had a lot worse, love. Get yaself back in and I’ll be along in a bit.” He went back through the station door, leaving her there to contemplate just how much he’d grown since arriving. Sadly though, it wasn’t enough. The fact he could go from catatonic one moment to quite amiable the next showed that his mental balance was still off kilter.

Heading into the common room, he sought out Ella, jerking his head in the direction of the front doors. She was pleased to see him looking a little brighter, but she knew something was off, taking his hand and following him down to the entrance.

“What’s been going on with you, then? Like I said before, I was bleedin’ worried about you. Not cool beans, vanishing on me like that,” she spoke, squeezing his hand as they walked down the path.

“Just ain’t been feeling right, little. Wasn’t anything you did or said before you think that. You’re fucking amazing, but I’m a headcase. When I get like that, I’m not good around others, so I just say on my own.” It was partly true, at least. The full truth was that he’d needed that time away from her to come to the decision he’d put in motion that morning.

He was adamant that he wouldn’t tell her, though. For whatever time he had left there at the facility, should he be allowed to transfer, he wanted to at least try and be happier. And spend time with her, because he knew he’d ache for her if he was granted his request. They moved down to the tree again, resuming the same position as always, but this time, there would be nothing scandalous.

“So, I’ve been really down without you around. I think I require some funny stories to lift my mood, and you always have plenty of them, what you and your mates get up to,” she requested, gathering daisies from the grass and heaping them in her lap, ready to fashion herself a daisy chain.

He was thoughtful for a few moments, trying to remember a few he had yet to recount to her. “Did I ever tell you about the time a heckler threw a glass of beer onto the stage, and it hit Snedders?”

“No!” she cried, turning with her mouth dropped open. “What a twat! Was he okay?”

“Yeah, Snedders was fine, but he still climbed from behind the kit, found the bloke, and showed a drumstick right up his nose. Blood fucking everywhere! It was mint, to coin one of your phrases,” he chuckled, remembering it. God, how that guy had deserved it.

“I’ve never understood that, why people go and see bands they don’t like purely to give them a hard time,” she mused. “Seems like a massive waste of time, innit.” She then paused, closing her eyes. “Oh Christ, you’re rubbing off on me! Got me saying innit, you shit.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry. Innit.”

Nudging him with her elbow she continued her chain assembly. “Do you get many people like that at your gigs?”

“Oh yeah, plenty of haters. One loudmouthed American guy in Germany was screaming us one night all the way through between songs, targeting me especially. The last time he did it, he screams at the top of his lungs, ‘Hey, War! You fucking suck!’ So, I just shrugged, yelled back that he’d paid to see me suck, then got a gob full of water and spat it all over him. I wanted to kick him in the face, but German police don’t fucking play around, man. I can behave when I have to.”

“I’d have paid to see that, and I bet you didn’t suck,” she began, affixing another daisy onto the chain. “But I think I’m missing something. Why did he call you War?”

“Stage name. It comes from our neighbour hearing me playing guitar one afternoon and yelling that it sounded like the four horsemen of the apocalypse were coming through the building. So then Steve starts thinking which one I’d be and landed on War being pretty perfect. Pestilence was a close second, though.”

“Yeah, that’s like, really fucking apt for your temperament!” she smirked. “What about the other lads? What are there’s?”

“Steve’s is Berserker, Gaz is Tyrant, Dan is Necro Storm and Snedders is Fury. Pretty top grade really, considering how that bloke beats the skins. I might rip it out of him all the time, call him a flid and a useless wanker, but fuck. Guy’s the best goddamnned drummer I’ve ever heard,” he replied, smiling with obvious affection.

“You miss them, don’t you?” she asserted, finishing the daisy chain and doubling it carefully around her wrist, leaning back against him. She envied him a little, having such a close circle. Her eating disorder had meant she’d pushed her meagre few friends away, only really having her mother, Jane and Jane’s best friend, Hester, who she was also close with. Andrea too now, she thought while smiling.

“Mm, yeah I do. I think having my life as I know it taken away, it’s kinda made me realise I might actually want to live it more than I don’t, innit.”

“Dr. Beaumont would call that growth,” she chimed, reaching her hand back and stroking the side of his neck, James moving his to rub her forearm gently, drinking it in, that moment there with her.

Growth it might have been, but it wasn’t enough to stay there with her, and that killed him more and more with every passing moment.

“Are you feeling better now, than you have been over the last few days?” she then asked, turning to press a kiss just beneath his jaw, dark stubble prickling her lips.

“Ish.” Yes, he felt better for seeing her but no, not at how his head was still a battlefield of utter chaos. “Like I’ve said before, though. I always feel better when you’re around.”

Kissing her head, he wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and enjoying the peace of the moment, the simple joy of having her near, the grounds quiet. The only thing that disturbed it was the drone of a lawnmower in the near distance, James shutting out all of his head noise so, if only for that time, he could just be.

“I’ve never asked you this before, but you just mentioning being at home made me wonder what it’s like, your flat,” she began, taking a section of his hair and twirling it around her finger. “Where abouts in Nuneaton is it?”

“Do you know Wellington Road at all, if you go off the high street and down to where all the old industrial buildings are?”

“Hmm, vaguely,” she hummed, “go on.”

“We live in what used to be a paint factory. It got converted into flats about six years ago. It’s a fucking shithole but it’s got character, all the original brickwork and windows and all that. Gets fucking freezing in winter without no double glazing, but it’s a listed building so they had to keep the outer appearance intact. Rent ain’t much either, because again, shithole.”

“I shall look forward to seeing this shithole in person at some point,” she spoke, smiling up at him, James dropping another kiss to her head.

“Mm. At some point, yeah.” Time would only tell as to when.

They stayed outside talking for most of the afternoon before heading in, James actually pushing himself to be social and spend time with her, even though his head didn’t quite feel engaged in it. He wanted to drink up as many moments as he could, though, and he’d need to as well.

“James, come in, love,” Mary called to him, catching him on the way to the common room two days’ later, beckoning him into the nurse’s station. “I’ve just heard back from upstairs. Your request has been approved, and we’ll be transferring you to Erdington Hall Psychiatric Unit in Birmingham tomorrow morning.”

It mattered little that he’d requested it. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach to hear he’d be leaving so soon.

#original fiction #original story #original stories #smutty fiction #romance fiction #romance stories #tw: depression #tw:anorexia

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