#I was going to link to the post you made earlier today but then mid-typing realized that part of the draft wasn't relevant to the topic

[vulturevanity]

hi i'm so glad to see someone else on this hellsite who is as obsessed with dot as i am. your analysis of her character are like me looking in the mirror because i have the same damn thoughts. she is so neurodivergent and has problems and i love her. take my hand

slaps her on the head. This baby can fit so many of my own mental illnesses in there

[misora-msby]

scarred love.

rating : mature

word count : 4.3k

themes : angst, slight fluff, implied and mentions of sex

notes : based on vistlip’s CLASSIC OPERA // this is my first work on this blog, i hope you enjoy!

“I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

“No way… That’s not the case, I’m sure!”

“That’s what I want to think but…”

Suna could barely believe as he stood outside the bedroom door, hand barely making contact with the handle. Was that really what you thought? 

“I wonder if it’s normal for couples to fall out of love at this stage.”

“Mm… there’s certainly been couples I’ve known like that. They were in love for years but after they got married they decided it wasn’t the life for them and divorced.”

Suna heard your gasp follow the tinny voice from the phone. He had heard of similar stories before but never thought it would happen to him and you. 

Ever since you had gotten together, he was always subtle in his love. He was never the type to outright say “I love you” in public or to boldly proclaim his love for you on social media. Suna preferred linking pinkies while walking or to post photos of your study dates with simple captions like “another ‘10 minute break’” or “we are going to collapse”. 

Despite this, when you were in the privacy of your apartment, he almost never left your side. It was either his head on your lap, his legs laying over yours on the couch, or you sitting on his lap in some way albeit still being relatively quiet. 

So to think you were getting upset with the little attention he was showing recently had him confused. Wasn’t he always like this?

“But Y/N, I doubt Suna-san’s fallen out of love. Isn’t it just that his new job with EJP Raijin is keeping him busy?” 

“Y-Yeah but… he hasn’t said anything about it. He comes back late and leaves early and it just… It just sucks so much! I don’t know what to do!” you sob and Suna can hear the sound of you blowing your nose and coughing through your tears. 

Taking a step back from the bedroom door, the middle blocker moved to the couch and sat for a moment, head in his hands. He knew love couldn’t be perfect. A perfect relationship without fights or problems was just waiting to crumble from the slightest crack in it. But he wanted to at least prevent you from thinking this way. 

He wanted you to know he did love you. 

Later that night, he crawled into the bed, freshly showered and in his pyjamas - an old thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers. You laid beside him in your own pyjamas - one of his big t-shirts and a pair of shorts. 

“Y/N,” he turned onto his side and called your name, causing you to almost jump while attempting to fall asleep with your swirling thoughts.

“Yes, Rin?” 

“You have a free day tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Well… yes. Why?”

The bed shifted under his movement to hold himself over you. 

“W-Wait a second! Rin! I’m not prepared or anything- mmf!” 

He pressed his lips to yours, his fox-like eyes shut delicately as he kissed you passionately. Before you knew it, his hands moved to your sides and began to lift the edge of the shirt up, but were quickly pushed down. 

“Rintarou,” you lightly pushed on his chest, “I uh… I’m not wearing any nice underwear… A-And I haven’t shaved. Can I go change and do that?” 

Honestly you were very surprised that he suddenly wanted to do this. Suna was always one to do things out of the blue; your relationship was built on impromptu dates and spontaneous gifts he claimed ‘reminded him of you’, but this really had came out of nowhere. 

You hadn’t been intimate in weeks and you wanted to at least look good for it, but Suna just shook his head. 

“You’re fine like this. I love you however you look.” He leaned back down and began to place kisses along your jaw and neck. 

His kisses were softer than usual, you noted. And his hands weren’t rushing to tear your clothes off like he usually did.

“Rin- ah! Rintarou, why are you doing this all of a sudden?”

“We’re both free tomorrow. Can’t I spend my free day with my girlfriend the way I want to?” he asked, looking up at you through his thin lashes. 

“Still! That gives me more time to go get ready.”

“No,” he shook his head and continued to kiss and bite along your neck and collarbones, leaving his marks of love on your skin, “I want to spend every second that I can with you now that I have the time.”

“Wait a second.”

Suna finally pulled his lips away from your skin, now littered with little marks, “What’s wrong?”

“Since when were you so romantic? It just… Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy it’s just a little funny…” 

His eyes widened at the sight of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, cupping your face in his large rough hands gently. 

“I’m more than okay! No… I don’t know why I’m crying…” you sob softly, rubbing at your eyes. 

Suna chuckled lightly. “Is it because you’re filled with overwhelming love for me?”

“Rintarou!” you whined and hit his chest lightly. “You’re absolutely insufferable!”

“You say that but you were the one who asked me out on our graduation.” 

“...you little shit. I really do love you.” 

“Mm, I thought so. I love you too.” He continued to kiss and strip you.

Unlike your usual nights together which were spent fucking roughly, leaving bodies sore and lightly scarred, tonight was slow and loving albeit passionate as ever. Soft kisses and laughs were exchanged in the dark as Suna made love to you, thrusting slowly while mumbling words of love into your body. 

The next morning, you were woken up by the feeling of a kiss on your forehead. Your eyelids fluttered open and you squinted in the morning light to see Suna sitting on his side of the bed, clad only in boxers. There was also the scent of eggs and toast, and when you looked down, you saw it sitting on a plate between you two.

“I’m no Osamu here. But I think my cooking is still edible,” your boyfriend sighed before flopping down onto the bed beside you and closing his eyes. 

“You actually woke up to cook for me?” you asked, sitting up to look at the sunny-side-ups with broken yolks and the toast that was just a little too toasted for your liking. 

“Surprised myself too,” he yawned before squinting his eyes open, “More like… I wanted to surprise you. And wake you up with a kiss.”

“You’re so cheesy today, aren’t you!”

“I know, I think it’s weird too.”

On that day, you knew he still loved you. And you loved him more than ever before.

But that happiness couldn’t last forever. In the city of Tokyo where sadness and troubles rained down, something was bound to happen. Even the most heavily cemented cracks could once again break under a heavy enough pressure. 

Even if it took a couple of months.

“Rintarou! Welcome home!”

“Mm.”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you noticed his short answer. After shutting your laptop where you were answering some work related emails while waiting for your boyfriend, you made your way over to Suna who was hanging his winter coat by the door.

“Rin, are you alright?”

“Just tired.”

You sighed softly, “You shouldn’t overwork yourself. You need breaks sometimes too, you know?” And reached up to begin massaging his shoulders as you usually did. But he only pushed your hands away quickly, saying, “Not tonight,” before walking further into the apartment.

You bit your lower lip to prevent it from trembling any further while your hands stayed still as if frozen mid air. You were hesitating to tell him what you wanted to say earlier.

“Rintarou… Tomorrow you don’t have scheduled practice, right? I…” you took a deep breath as he turned to face you, eyes dark and heavy-looking. 

“Yeah.”

“I was wondering… Well, I don’t have work tomorrow either so I reserved a place at a nice restaurant for dinner! I think we both need a bit of a break, work’s been so busy and you’re also training so intensely and-”

“No.”

“H- Huh?” you laughed nervously, “What do you mean by ‘no’?”

“It means what it means, I don’t want to go.”

“Rintarou, you can’t just- I can’t- I promise it’s a really nice place! A-And I wanted to spend some time with you…” there was a lump welling up in your throat as you tried not to suddenly pour out your recent feelings towards him. 

The recent frustrations of not being able to spend much time with your boyfriend anymore, the annoyance at the way he would always spend his free time doing self training, the anger towards his schedule which rarely ever allowed you to meet, the sadness of the fact that your shared apartment no longer had the sound of laughter when you two played games or watched silly YouTube videos together...

All that frustration felt like it was just being held up behind that lump in your throat, and to think he would simply dismiss it without a second thought.

“You should’ve asked before you started making plans. I’m going to the gym tomorrow again. We have a match against the Red Falcons in two weeks so I need to become at least a bit stronger,” Suna explained monotonously, as if you should have known that already.

“I- I know but… I thought… it’d be a nice surprise…”

The man sighed and turned to walk towards the bathroom, ready to just shower and go to sleep. He simply could not be bothered to argue with you, thinking this problem would solve itself like it always did. But you had had enough of this issue.

Suna hadn’t even realised it was coming until he felt a small bell keychain hit the back of his head. It fell to the hardwood floor with a loud clang which lasted for far too long, causing him to inhale sharply and turn around, anger and annoyance replacing the bored expression on his face for once. 

“What the hell is-” he was about to raise his voice until he saw the way your features trembled and your eyes had already become red and puffy. His own features softened and his body unstiffened. “Y/N…”

“You know, the least you could do is try to be nice to me!” you yelled, furiously wiping away the tears forming. “You could at least say “Mm, I’m really not free but we can do it some other time.” or some shit like that! But no! I- I’m busy too, you know! I’m trying to get promoted so I don’t have to rely on yer dumb ass all the time, but I still want to make time for you because I love you so much! But I don’t think ya get that!” 

Something in the back of your mind was telling you not to say these things, that maybe you could just talk this out calmly. Maybe you didn’t have to explode, but something else told you this was the only way to get a point across.

“I’m your girlfriend, but I feel more like a roommate or burden at this point! Ya know, even ‘Tsumu’s able to make time for his girlfriend! And- And Bokuto’s always doing his promotions and ads but still makes time for his boyfriend! Ojiro-senpai too! Miyu-chan tells me he’s the one planning the dates! But ya can’t even be bothered to pretend you’re happy I tried ta plan somethin’ for us!” 

Suna knew you really were angry when your dialect started coming out but he just didn’t know what to say. He could only stand there in silence with his head hanging like a child being scolded.

“Rintarou… I love you so much you know… I just wonder these days- no, I just wonder if you ever loved me back the same way.”

Oh, he knew. Ever since that night when he heard you crying on the phone, he knew he wasn’t doing enough. 

“I… I’m sorry.” Suna looked up when he suddenly heard those words from you amidst the sobs and chokes. 

“I already left your pyjamas on the bathroom counter… Please don’t… Just please don’t talk to me tonight.” you hurried to the tiny kitchen to wash your face as he silently made his way to the bathroom, thoughts swirling around in his head. 

Suna stared at your figure silently for a second before bending down to pick up the bell - a cheap gift he had given you for your third month together right after you two first started university. It was old, the string slightly frayed and loose, and the golden paint had chipped in places to reveal the stainless steel underneath it. There was even a dent on the bottom from when you accidentally dropped one of your heavier textbooks onto it. It was old, and Suna had told you countless times it was fine to throw away, but you always kept it. 

The man took it and carefully placed it back on the key rack before heading into the bathroom. He took his time in there, gathering his thoughts as he knew he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you tonight.

It was understandable really, he hadn’t been a great boyfriend. Suna knew a relationship took work from both sides and he shouldn’t have been as blunt as he was earlier that night. 

One couldn’t count the number of times he had muttered profanities aimed towards himself while sitting in the bathtub thinking about his mistakes. He didn’t know if you would even want to see him tomorrow morning. Maybe it was for the best he just went to the gym…

The next morning, Suna woke up early. Even in winter, the sun rose far too early in Japan for his taste. Sitting up and grumbling, he rubbed his eyes and stumbled to the bathroom to begin his morning routine.

Looking at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, he could only sigh at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes. 

Though you made him sleep on the stiff couch last night, you gave him the shared duvet and his pillow while you took the slightly thinner blanket from the closet. 

Despite the added comfort, Suna could barely fall asleep. He kept twisting and turning, thinking about you. Your pained face, your strained voice, your kindness even when angry at him. 

“I fucked up so bad,” he muttered once he washed his face and stared at his pathetically tired self in the mirror, water dripping from the ends of his hair. Would you want to break up with him after that? He’d understand if you wanted to, though he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for losing you because of some stupid mistake he could have prevented. 

Suna sighed for what felt like the thousandth time in the past 12 hours and dabbed his face dry with a towel. He knew that now would be the hardest bit - entering your bedroom to get his change of clothes.

Opening the door as slowly as possible in order to prevent the loud whiny creaking that he wished he had fixed months ago, Suna walked slowly towards the open closet. As quickly as possible, he grabbed a set of clothes and turned to face the door. Though it wasn’t without looking at your sleeping form on the large bed. 

Your face was puffy, dehydrated from sobbing last night, only emphasised by the wads of used tissues on the nightstand and floor. He noticed your breathing was a bit heavier than usual and your body was curled up as you hugged the thin blanket as close to yourself as you could.

The sight pained him intensely. 

With silent footsteps, Suna set his clothes on his side (the empty side) of the bed and tiptoed out to grab the duvet before returning and carefully laying it over your body. He tucked it right up to your chin as you always liked it and sat on the floor, eyes scanning every little feature on your face. From the smallest moles he loved to kiss to each individual eyelash.

“You’re not hearing this, I guess,” he muttered, looking down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at you, “I thought about it for a really long time. I really should’ve been better to you.”

The silence in the room was deafening. 

Suna gulped and bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about his next words, wondering if you could hear him in your sleep. 

“I always left you alone but you would always be nice to me. When you could, you’d make me bentos and clean the house while I did the laundry. Hm… putting stuff into a machine isn’t anywhere equal to cooking and cleaning surfaces, but I guess that’s another point to make.” 

Suna smiled to himself just a bit at the memory of you running into the bedroom to make him try your new pastries or dinner creations. He always thought you were so adorable in your old and stained apron that sometimes he would just stand in the kitchen to chat with you or watch you cook.

Then he was reminded of the dinner you had planned for the two of you and he suddenly frowned remembering how horrible he acted towards you the night before.

“You never expected me to be perfect since day one. I think I’m the furthest thing from a handsome prince on a white horse. But you’ve always been wonderful to me. And I was thinking…” You were asleep, right? Was it worth it to say such cheesy things?

“I kept wondering if you would leave and I thought I don’t want to lose you. I’m nowhere close to a prince but I thought I want to always be the one who wakes you up with a kiss. Or, I want you to wake me up with a kiss. Either is fine really. But… yeah. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. ” He was certain you weren’t hearing these things yet there was a dark blush on his cheeks.

Until he saw you shift in the bed. 

Suna swears his heart stopped momentarily as he leaned closer, checking to see if you had woken up. 

Your eyelids slowly opened and you squinted tiredly at Suna, just barely able to see him with how blurry your vision had become. “Rin…?”

The man hurried to his feet, hoping his morning wouldn’t feel any heavier than it already did. 

“I’m gonna give you some space. I’ll be back after my jog.” 

Suna turned to exit the bedroom but was stopped by the sound of stumbling, followed by your warmth around his waist and resting on his back.

“Please… don’t go.”

He stared silently at the floor in front of him. 

“I don’t think you want to-”

“Stay here! …please?” 

Your soft voice broke but mended his heart at the same time. The scratchiness and fear in your voice contrasted with the words that he wanted to hear so badly.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, I heard everything.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m still a little mad. But right now I’m just really happy you would say those things when you normally wouldn’t tell me how you feel. So… please, don’t go. Stay with me.”

The few moments of silence seemed to pass in eons as Suna took in a shaky breath before turning to hug you tightly, burying his face into your neck so you couldn’t see his tears of relief.

“Of course I will. I won’t go anywhere, babe.”

Four years have passed since that night. Suna yawns and scrunches up his face slightly at the way the sunlight enters your shared bedroom. Squinting his eyes, he looks around the room and wonders if maybe he should’ve put on a shirt like you did last night to deal with the first bites of winter. Then again, you did take his shirt.

He then looks to you, sleeping quietly by his side. You looked a little like a mess; hair messy, dwarfed in his big shirt, cheek smushed against the pillow, but he thought you looked adorable. 

It’s cold, but he feels warm by your side. 

And when he looks down at your left hand resting under his even in your sleep, the sight of the silver ring with its diamonds adorning your finger makes his heart even warmer.

[normal-thoughts-official]

you talk a lot about magnus and camille dynamic and how they started and all that great meta content that you know i love but here's a question that idk if you ever got: how long do you think they were together? bc i can't think of a specific timeline and personally i love the one you talked abt at some point how she was pretty much right after asmododo or something like that, so he went from one type of abuse into another... but how long was he there? was camille with him for 20 years? 80? 130? any theories?

ugh that's a complicated one because i don't really have an answer for that and i think about it often as well

altho i think you got confused about her being right after asmodeus, i definitely don't think she was. i mentioned it my post about the timeline to say that magnus COULDN'T have been born close to the 1800s because that would make it asmodeus and camille way too close and that can't be the case because it would imply camille is basically the only person he dated before alec doajsdoaj and we know that's not true cuz there's also other ppl like george and etc. it was more a point in favor of "early to mid 1600s" for his birth date

anyway! let's go through this. i mentioned in another post that i think he got together with camille right after george, and that i think george died around the middle of the US civil war, which lasted from 1861 to 1865. so let's say they got together around 1863. now, we have a few pieces of information:

magnus mentioned that he hadn't been with anyone for "almost a century" when talking to alec. i know i think magnus is time blind but he can't be TOO off here. that was in 2016 so that would make their breakup date be a little after 1916 if magnus remembers correctly

literally the only thing about the timeline in that time period that i can remember is that one picture there was in his file of magnus surrounded by girls at a party, which looked to be in the 20s to me. since camille was an abusive asshole probably sabotaging his every chance to meet people, that couldn't have been when they were together. so i'd say 1920 is like, the limit for when they could have broken up. it's up to you whether or not you think magnus would be jumping into his party animal role immediately after the breakup or if it would take some time for him to heal; personally i think both make sense (i think she made a huge number on him so it would make sense for him to take a while to get back to that kind of thing; on the other hand, a lot of people turn straight to being party animals after breaking up abusive relationships, especially because for so long abusers have kept them from doing anything fun. so both work imo) so it's up to you

conclusion: they broke up in 1920 at the latest, so the max you could go for is 80 years, if you go with a timeline where camille was right after george (george can't be after camille because magnus has had no relationships after camille, but there could have been a bigger gap between george and camille than i personally hc). it could still be less tho, because we literally have NO information whatsoever on what happened between 1861 and 1920. even if you go with "they broke up and magnus immediately went full party animal" (which is perfectly valid), it's also entirely possible that this happened in say, 1901 and that pic just happened to be from the 20s, years later. but i also don't think it could have been a lot earlier than 1901 because magnus said almost a century, implying less than a century between the year they broke up and 2016. and while i do think that any immortal would lose track of time after a while and mingle years and decades together, nevermind adhd time blind icon magnus bane, if they had broken up in, say, 1880, magnus would remember that over a century has passed, if anything because so much has changed since then. so i think for him to say that the breakup should have happened in the 20th century at least

so that's the analysis from what we've seen in the show. personal opinion! i think 80 years makes sense, but is a bit much. it makes sense because there does seem to be a pretty obvious gap in magnus' file from the 1860s to the 1920s and then it goes back to having many pictures of him, and that "disappearance" makes sense in the context of him being in an abusive relationship (which limits your interactions and going outs by a lot). it does seem to be a bit much because magnus is at max 400, so, if they had been together 80 years, that would have been 20% of magnus' life spent with camille. or 1/5. added with all the time with asmodeus, it seems to be... a bit much dioadsoaijd and like look i'm not judging, i know abusive relationships can last many years and decades even for mortals, nevermind immortals, but i just don't like the idea of it lasting this long personally, especially because i think it makes him getting with alec seem actually a bit soon considering how long the abusive relationship lasted, and that's ignoring asmodeus' abuse on top of it

so personally, i like it morenif its around 40-50 years. i think it makes sense. it would mean the breakup was sometime around the 1910s, and while, okay, there is a gap in his file that seems to only end in the 20s, we must not forget an important fact: shadowhunters are stupid. so i actually think it makes sense that like, magnus emerges from his abusive relationship and is still getting back on his feet, and shadowhunters just don't care. like who is that guy? oh some warlock, no one's heard of him since like the 1860s lol. whatever happened to him? who cares. anyway, we love racism

and then around a decade later it turns out that magnus is healing enough to be a pain in their ass; say, that is when he becomes HWoB, or simply that they are reminded of how powerful magnus actually is once he is back in activity, and so they go back to like, investigating him and updating his file. so the file gap could be explained in that case. it also actually makes more sense that it would take shadowhunters a while to pay attention to him again, and since magnus was healing from an abusive relationship, the time it would take for him to draw their attention might well be around a decade

and with 40-50 years of an abusive relationship that would mean magnus has spent 10-12% of his life with camille; which is a LOT of time (for comparison: my first abusive relationship lasted a little over a year and i was 16 at the time; that makes it have lasted around 6% of my life at the time, and it did a HUGE number on me, taking me almost 3 years to have a relationship again), but not quite as much as a full 20%. not just that, but him taking "almost a century" (it would actually make it be a little over a century in this timeline, but again, magnus is immortal and time blind, so give him a break) to get with anyone again makes sense. that would be around double the time he's spent with her before he heals enough to be with someone else. that tracks, because abuse fucks you up fast and unfuckening yourself up takes longer. magnus isn't even fully unfucked up (which is okay, he doesn't have to be), but for him to be ready to take such huge steps as he is taking with alec, i think around double the time he's spent with her spent on healing makes sense

(again, i'm mostly going off my own experiences here; my abusive relationship lasted almost a year and a half, my next relationship was almost three years after the breakup. so almost perfectly double the time before i was ready to have another relationship. and again, i know recovery isn't the same for everyone and a lot of factors go into this, but i just think a timeline where he's been with her for 80 years and then gets with alec less than 100 afterwards is a bit too fast)

i still think 40 years is kind of a very long time to be in an abusive relationship and like holy shit i cant even imagine, but also i mean, mortals have abusive relationships that last that long and to an immortal itd feel like less time, and it does seem to be what best fits the timeline, so

and yeah i think those are my thoughts dadsajdsa

LAST MINUTE EDIT BEFORE THIS IS PUBLISHED CUZ IM NOT REDOING THE WHOLE THING: i got an anon today saying that magnus said something about not having seen camille in 130 years (link) which i didnt/dont really remember but i trust that theyre right and im wrong because i dont remember a lot of shit from this show. 130 years before 2016 would be 1886, meaning that if they broke up at that time and got together right after george's death as i personally hc, that's a 20-year relationship. that sounds like it fits the timeline as much as any other to me, and like i said in that ask, i think it makes sense that magnus would play it down to alec by saying "almost a century" instead of how long it's really been cuz it's a bit too vulnerable, and plus, we know one of the ways he protects himself is by not letting people pinpoint exactly some important dates from his past, particularly his birthday and etc

and okay i know that 20 years together, then 130 years recovering is a huge difference, but also i think with twenty years together as opposed to my comparatively short abusive relationship the scars of abuse would deepen a lot and quicker, so maybe it makes sense that it would take a longer time to feel confident enough to get to dating again. plus, like i said, there's no real math to be had in that process, everyone is different, has their own history and recovery process and etc so it's not like there is a deadline. so actually scratch everything i said above im going with this timeline. the one thing that doesn't track with that is the gap in his file but also like i said shadowhunters are stupid, so. yeah 20 years together is probably closer to it

in the end its kind of a relief cuz i was like "holy shit 40 years is so LONG" so... yeah udndidn

[marshmellowmin]

A “Fake” Love Story Pt.1| Mafia!Doyoung AU

1st of all-I’m so sorry we haven’t posted an update to the series in so long! @smorechan and I are both in school currently and have been hyper focused on that. Combine that with quarantine writers block and you get us not updating for almost 9 months straight. 

2nd of all-thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting the series! It means so much to us! We would love to hear your thoughts on the series and who you want us to write next! 

3rd of all- I’ll be including a masterlist soon! It will be linked in my bio!

This series is a collaboration between myself (@marshmellowmin) and the author @smorechan. Please continue to support us as we release more related content and continue our stories. Thank you!

Doyoung: Politician. Ended up in congress when the last President was impeached, makes sure the laws work in favor of S-NCT. Was a trade dealer before becoming a politician. Is popular amongst the common population of Korea.

Years in Mafia: 10

Weapon of Choice: Billet 4x4 Snatch Rope

Body count: 3

___

  *Ding*

“Thank you for coming to Cherry Blossom Co! How can I help you today?” You popped your head up from the rose bush you were plucking at the moment to look towards the door of your little flower shop. By the daisies and petunias stood a man in his early to mid twenties, shifting his eyes between the flowers before landing on your own figure. 

“ Ah, I was wondering if I could get a bouquet made by tonight? Every other shop in the area is backed up with orders.” He gave a small smile before pulling his wallet out of his suit pocket “I can pay extra if it helps.” 

Walking from around the massive flower pot, you wiped the dirt off of your gloves before taking them off and shoving them into the apron tied around your waist. “Don’t worry about paying extra, I can make it for you right now!” Walking over to the workbench you pulled out a basic brown wrapping paper, folding it and laying it flat down on the table. “What is the occasion? A date maybe?” You looked up to the stranger, who had moved from the daisies over to the lilies, running his fingers gently along the petals. He probably had no problem securing a date, if he wasn’t married already. Tall, handsome and a soothing voice with a calm face. 

“Uh… not exactly” He set out a whispered laugh, scratching the back of his head, “ I have to meet the daughter of one of my associates tonight, I figured I should come prepared.” So he wasn’t married, nice.

“Well, do you have any idea what type of flowers you want? Big or small bouquet? And do you want a message written with it?” You pulled twine and cardstock along with lettering pens from under the counter.

“I know absolutely nothing about flowers, a decent sized bouquet and no message please, I wouldn’t know what to write,” He laughed again, this time bringing his hand to pull at his cuff sleeves. You chuckled at the man’s cluelessness, putting away the pens and cardstock. Even though he looked like a super smooth and suave guy, it was obvious he was oblivious to the world of romantics. 

“Well, what kind of a meeting is it? Professional, casual, or maybe even romantic?” You asked, walking around the hydrangeas and closer to the wildflowers before finally reaching the most popular flower, the red roses.

“What kind of flowers are your favorites?” He asked, following you around your small shop, eyeing every type of flower. Surprised by the question, you paused in front of the chrysanthemums.

“I like them all, if I’m being honest. But a bouquet of different types of wildflowers and lavender are my personal favorites. I always have some on display in my living room. Do you have a favorite flower?” You figured making small talk would help hurry his decision along-and maybe come back to your shop again. 

“I like that one flower, it grows a lot in America, it uhhh, it almost looks like a daisy but it’s petals are blue and purple and pink” He gave another nervous laugh, whipping out his phone this time before clicking around and unceremoniously shoving the phone into your own hands. A picture of a field, in what you assumed to be America, was on the screen, with beautiful flowers all across it.

“Those look like New England Asters!” You grinned widely, laughing. Moving back over to the wildflowers, you picked up a handful of the colorful flowers, showing them to him proudly. “I even have them in stock!” 

“Wow, I didn’t know you could find them in Korea.” He followed you back through the store as you pulled different flowers from bushes and buckets before you made it back to the workbench. You continued to make small talk as you made the bouquet, finishing it much quicker than you expected. 

“Here it is!” You held it up with pride, handing it over to him, which he gently took from you, a smile appearing. 

“Thank you so much, here, how much do I owe you?” He went to pull out his wallet again, before you raised a hand in an attempt to stop him. 

“Don’t worry about it. I had fun talking to you and I love making bouquets for people who enjoy the work behind it, so consider it on the house. Anything else you need?” 

“Um, I know this is gonna sound really weird, but will you come to this meeting with me? As a um, uh, a date?”

“I’m sorry?” You choked, halting all movements to put together the bouquet.

“Well, uhm I was supposed to court the daughter of the associate I’m meeting with tonight, which is why I needed the bouquet, but she’s like 16, and on top of her being way too young, she’s a total brat who’s never been told ‘no’ in her life. So you can see why I want to avoid courting her as much as possible,” the man awkwardly laughed and rubbed the nape of his neck, looking anywhere else but at you. You were shocked by his story, not quite believing that a man would actually marry off his 16 year old daughter to a man who appeared to be in his early twenties. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man’s position, and also happy he wasn’t a creepy pedophile.

“I’ll go with you, but on one condition. Tell me your name.” You smiled, tending to your bouquet once again. The man smiled brightly at your answer and chuckled a bit when he realized he had never told you his name. 

“It’s Kim Doyoung. Nice to meet you,” Doyoung looked at the embroidered name on your apron right below your left collarbone, “Y/N. Should I pick you up here around 6?” 

“Alright. I will see you at 6 Mr. Kim Doyoung. Doyoung nodded and the two of you spent the next few minutes asking questions about each other and how the meeting tonight would go down. As it turns out, the associate he was meeting tonight was West African and had connections all over the world, and Doyoung was trying to work with him to get some of the connections. He never mentioned what the connections were for though, which you found odd. Most men love to brag about their work experiences, while Doyoung tended to tell little pieces of his experiences. Eventually the bouquet was finished and Doyoung had to leave, something you both regretted-though the thought of seeing him again tonight kept you on your toes with excitement bubbling in your stomach.  

The rest of your day was just as mundane as you had expected. Nothing more than a husband with an upset wife at home, a young man on his first date, and a girl - looking for flowers to press - came into the shop. Still, your thoughts were filled with the image of a tall and lanky brunette that was supposed to be here any minute. 

5:59, you heard the chime of the front door opening, and walked in the same man from hours earlier. “Are you ready?” He asked, moving to the edge of the counter that you were behind, holding out his hand. “I promise that I will make it as adventurous as possible.” He gave out a chuckle as you timidly took the hand that he had offered. 

“I can’t wait to see what a high life you live Mr. Kim.” You joked, as he led you out to his car, waiting for you to lock the door to the shop. 

Driving for a while, he ended up in the front of a designer store, something you never even imagined walking into. Exiting the car, he walked to your side and opened the door, once again leading you inside of the brightly lit department store. Immediately, someone had approached the two of you, asking how they could help. Mentioning something about cocktail dresses, she led you farther back into the store and started pulling dresses off of the wall and hanging them on the door of a nearby dressing room. 

“Doyoung, what’s going on right now?” You asked, eyes darting between the racks of expensive clothing and the dressing room door.

“Well, you wanted to see the high life,” he laughed “plus, you need to look the part of a senator’s girlfriend, don’t you?” Senator… A SENATOR?!

Suddenly everything started clicking together. The tall lanky brunette who was definitely too sophisticated to be walking into such a small flower shop. Kim. Kim Dongyong. The youngest man in congress, who was also known as the heartthrob of Korea. You were going on a fake date with the man women of all ages were fawning over, regardless of political alignment. What. In. The. Hell. 

Zoning back into reality, Doyoung was waving his slender fingers in your face. Once he noticed a bit of sentience regained in them, he dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “I- I uh… I just realized that perhaps you didn’t know who I really was, it’s my fault really, I figured everyone in Seoul had at least a clue of what I looked like. That is a bit egocentric on my part. I understand if you no longer want to be my date for the evening.” His eyes were downcast, hands clasping behind him.

“No, no, no - it’s not that. I was just too slow to put all of the pieces together, and my apologies, I just don’t pay much attention to the news, it makes me sad.” You shook off the air of shock around you, regaining your composure. “Well, I guess I have to look the part to play the part, don’t I?” You laughed, looking behind you as Doyoung went to sit on the couch, ready to see whatever dress you picked out. 

Soon, you were leaving that gorgeous marbled store in a new peach dress and white heels, with a clutch to match and your hair and makeup done to the nines. During the time you were being, well, pampered, Doyoung had changed into a smart casual suit with the shirt matching the peach color of your dress. He wore off white slacks and white dress shoes, looking more like a government official than ever before. 

“Is there a reason we’re matching?” You asked, looking at Doyoung’s peach shirt and back to your peach cocktail dress. You had to admit, Doyoung looked unbelievably attractive in his suit, and the dress was doing you good as well.

“Don’t we look cute? I’m happy the peach looked good. You ready?” Doyoung asked, holding his arm out for you like a classic gentleman.

“I guess so. Lead the way Mr. Senator.” You grabbed Doyoung’s arm and soon enough, the two of you were in front of a very official dining hall, a sight you could only ever see in pictures on Google prior to 30 seconds ago. Holding onto Doyoung’s left arm, you walked up the steps and into the posh building. ’s grand entrance. You were greeted by a man in a traditional suit, the black blazer and slacks with a white collared shirt and a black tie made men look like penguins-and not very attractive ones. You were silently happy Doyoung hadn’t chosen to wear one. 

“Ah, Senator Kim! How lovely to see you tonight. And I see you brought a plus one! Who might she be?” The man shook Doyoung’s hand and before you even had a chance to introduce yourself, Doyoung spoke on your behalf.

“Very nice to see you as well Mr. Jeon. And this lovely lady here is my-”

“Fiance.” You cut Doyoung off before he had the chance to say “girlfriend”. Why? Who knows. But you’re stuck with it-and Doyoung knew it.

“Yes, we just got engaged so forgive my fiance for jumping in. She’s quite excited.” Doyoung’s right hand covered yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, signaling to you that you needed to say something. Or at least, that’s how you perceived it.

“Ah, yes, I’m very sorry for intruding like that. I just adore being able to call myself his fiance, please forgive me.” You gave the Mr. Jeon a sweet smile, hoping your sugary tone of voice was enough for him not to get upset. Unbeknownst to you, however, Doyoung was suppressing the world’s most shit eating grin, knowing you were the one who dug yourselves this massive hole and you were gonna be the one to get yourselves out.

“No worries, how could I be angry at such a wonderful couple? Although, not just two days ago Senator Kim here was one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors. Seems a little fast paced for an engagement, no?”

 “We’ve actually known each other for a couple years now, haven’t we dear?” Doyoung dragged out the little nickname, weirdly making your heart flutter a bit. You silently nodded in agreement. Mr. Jeon smiled and Doyoung made an escape attempt.

“Well it was nice seeing you here Mr. Jeon, I do hope to meet again after this. I figured my fiance and I should mingle a little bit, give me a true chance to show her off,” Doyoung smiled and shook the hand of Mr. Jeon before finally walking away with you hanging onto his elbow. You truly had no idea where he was going, but he made a beeline for somewhere and you were stuck following him, muttering hellos and nice to meet yous every time someone would try and speak with you two. Eventually Doyoung’s pace slowed and you found yourself near the back of the room by a couple security guards and a folding table for two. In true gentlemanly fashion, Doyoung pulled out a chair and motioned for you to sit before sitting himself right across from you.

“Fiance? Really? Seems kinda sus for a first date no?” Doyoung laughed, his gummy smile radiating pure sunshine at you from across the table. His tone and vocabulary completely shifted from the proper one he used with his political associates to a nonchalant and friendly one. You smiled back at him, giggling just a bit when Doyoung couldn’t quite stop his laughter.

“I have no clue. But on the brightside, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about girls wanting to court you anymore?” You shrugged your shoulders, signalling that if anyone did try, you weren’t to blame.

“That may very well be, but I can’t help but wonder what the headlines will look like once this news gets out. Maybe ‘Kim Dongyoung Engagement Announcement?’” Doyoung messed with the position of his watch on his left wrist and looked back up at you, seemingly expecting a response.

“You’re not being creative enough Mr. Kim. I bet it’ll be something like ‘Korea Loses its Most Eligible Bachelor Overnight to a Mysterious New Woman’” or something.” You laughed, thinking of many more outrageously dramatic headlines to come within the next 24 hour.

“Hm maybe. Wanna put something to that bet?” Doyoung asked, leaning ever so slightly over the table closer to you.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” You responded, mirroring his movements.

“You win, you become my real girlfriend. I win, you owe me three more dates then you can leave this entire life behind.” Doyoung sounded solemn when offering you an out, but you took this as a chance to be an outrageous flirt.

“Let’s hope I win then. We can’t add an engagement scandal to your name now can we?” You winked at the man in front of you, who only seemed stunned at your words. All you could do was stare into his eyes, an endless ocean of black drawing you further and further in-until Doyoungs phone went off. Awkwardly coughing, Doyoung answered his phone.

“What do you want? Huh? Now? Impeccable timing man. Yeah. I got it. See you at home. Bye.” Doyoung ended the call and huffed out a stressed sigh. 

“Home?” You questioned. Doyoung never once mentioned his home in all your conversations together-granted you had only known him for 13 hours. But you were still curious.

“That was my brother, of sorts. Anyways we have to talk to the ambassador from West Africa now, he just arrived. Is my fiance ready?” Doyoung drug out the word fiance as if to flirt and mock you at the same time. You could only roll your eyes and smile. He held out his hand for you to take and led you to a group of officials you could only assume were the West African Ambassador’s party. The ambassador himself was first to acknowledge the two of you.

“Ah Mr. Senator Kim! What a pleasure it is to meet you again, and under much, better, circumstances. I do apologize for the actions of my guards, their aim is just terrible. And who might this lovely young lady on your arm be?” The ambassador spoke, shaking Doyoungs hand and then yours. But the one thing that caught your attention was the stress the Ambassador put on the word ‘better’ and then his mention of his guards’ terrible aim. Did they shoot at Doyoung? Why would a Senator of Korea be shot at by a West African guard? Is there something Doyoung isn’t telling you about?

“This is my fiance, Ms. Y/L/N. I do apologize for the lack of mentions about her, you see not even my staff knew about her until this morning.” Doyoung’s words were short and almost crude, his tone overly nice. It was obvious he didn’t like this man.

“Not a worry Mr. Kim. She’s lovely. You’re a lucky man. My daughter was too shy to come anyways. She’ll be heartbroken, but one can only do so much in the way of a fiance, yeah?” You had a hard time making sense of his words, half due to his heavy accent and half due to the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of Doyoung being shot at.

“I do appreciate the understanding, Ambassador. Now, do you have it?” Doyoung asked, eyeing you as if you were listening in on a conversation you shouldn’t be hearing. You were just thoroughly confused about everything happening. Doyoung could’ve been shot and now he’s cryptically asking for something? There’s definitely more to this Senator than meets the eye. 

“Only if you have what I asked for, Mr Kim.” The Ambassador responded, signalling to someone in his party to do something, because the minute the Ambassador’s hand moved, the man nodded and left as if he was on a mission.

“You should find that it’s exactly where you need it. We’re very thankful for this, Ambassador. Should you ever need help in the future, don’t hesitate to ask.” Doyoung shook the Ambassadors hand one more time before returning his arm to your waist, pulling you closer into his side. You were now clueless as to who this “we” was that Doyoung mentioned. Did it have to do with the brother-of-sorts he mentioned earlier? One of the Ambassador’s other men leaned over and whispered something to him, making the Ambassador smile.

“You are all set Mr. Kim. Thank you for the generosity. We will definitely be in contact should we ever need help.” With that, Doyoung smiled and turned on his heels towards the door. You wanted to ask Doyoung so many questions but before you could he pulled out his phone and opened a news app.

“Looks like you won this bet, Ms. Y/L/N. I do look forward to our future together,” Doyoung said as he shoved the phone screen in your face. You had to hold his shaky wrist to stabilize the words enough to read the latest headline “Kim Dongyoung, Korea’s Most Eligible Bachelor, Stolen by Mysterious New Woman.

[joyfulprincessdragonlover54]

Do you have a favorite book--one that you could read multiple times? If not, what about a movie or tv show?

Hello again my friend.   Was this meant to exclude How to Train Your Dragon (or Disney/Pixar) so you could hear about what other pieces of fiction I am a massive fan of that don’t appear on my Tumblr?  If so, I still have answers for you.  But being brutually honest though.  The How to Train Your Dragon trilogy is my all time favorite story.  Never could tire of it. If you want I can always send you the link to my “What HTTYD means to Me” post through the pm system.  Even if that one is older and in need of polishing.  That’s up to you.   But back to other options you might be curious to hear about.   

My all time favorite novel (rather in this case it is a novella) is Washiongton Square by Henry James.  A rather simple plot to be spun out about how a plain looking young heiress in mid 1800′s New York comes into conflict between her domineering father and a man she is infatuated with is really a gold digger. This is where I discovered that books are treasures beyond comphrension.  When plots such as this that are considered so simple can in fact be filled with absorbing descriptions and crackling dialogue. Only to later to discover what kind of pungent questions they leave you with in their wake.  It has capitvated me for the past decade.  Henry’s prose is so elegant but his characters speak with such a force I find it addicting to re-visit.  Granted I also admit that the way people spoke in older centuries is fascinating as it is. But there’s something mind boggling as it is delightful to read what Mr. James put into a narrative.  This one in particular of his earlier publications holds my attenition because of his minisucle details to recognzing women’s lack of rights and the instintcual desire to garner freedom without ever going full fledged blunt on this controversial topic at the time is an artistic approach to such a signifcant matter.  Unlike another famous (and infamous) story called The Doll House by Henrik Ibsen who was so direct with this it gave the audience whiplash.  Henry James was so gentle and subtle it needed time to simmer but he was being vocal about the concerns of a woman’s position in society.  The questions I myself still ponder about what would have happened to me if I was born back then and would I have been more like this story’s leading lady. Who starts off the epitome of a damsel in distress who is so meak it makes contempories today feel sick to their stomoach. Only for her arc to forge from that pestering Mary Sue type into a person while deemed a “spinster” in that time period to what many today would call a heroine.  Her transition from stereotypical timid shy girl who blushes into a woman who defies society’s expectations without ever being crass about it is a deeply rewarding story to read in my opinion.  

The film I can re-watch and never tire of now that I think about it shares configurations to Washington Square on a philosphical level.   It’s also considered to be one of the 2000′s biggest film flops and most hated by mainstream audiences.  For good measure, it also infuriated historians.  Needless to say that ever since I saw this film in the cinema back in 2005. It has touched me profoudly.  Even if the screenplay took liberties.  Then again, I still love watching Disney’s Pocahontas and not feel guilty about it. Now you may be asking yourself what does that have to do with anything? Well the film I am referring to is called The New World.  A film that dives into the account of her life on a longer and heavier scale.  Released more then a decade after Disney tackeled their own version. Acclaimed filmmaker and writer Terrance Malick (who actually did enjoy the Disney film much to the suprise of many)   decided he would take his dormant script he started to brainstorm in the late 70′s  and bring into life on his own terms.  Now I’m not sure if you are familiar with any of Mr. Malick’s work.  But he has a very specific form of shooting and editing his movies.  In a nutshell, his films  are considered slow and even dull by the mainstream as there is very little dialogue, action and even his  color scheme is mostly made up of brown and/or grey.  He also likes to hone in on what are seemingly random shots of nature. Leaves blowing in the wind, sunlight coming in through the tree branches and water flowing in creeks. But for me. This presnentation of filmmaking for this story was poetic.  I loved how it evolved with a film score that was essentially a collection of classical music and only occasional narration by it’s lead characters.  The editing of Pocahontas’s journey as a free spirited young teen into a woman as she encounters a life filled with fascinating discovery, sensual desire, agonizing despair, new found love and the resurrgence of joy.  Q’orianka Kilcher who portrays her in the film is outstanding! It was her acting debut but you would never know it with how she carries the weight of the film by her shoulders. It was effortless.  The film features a great ensamble cast spead out by people Pocahontas meets and is surround by over the years. They include Colin Farrel, Christopher Plummer, Christian Bale, August Schellenberg, Wes Studi, and David Thewlis. All are commendable. Still, this story belongs to Ms. Kilcher’s character and she does an exquiste job of holding the story thread together. I try to keep my opinion from venturing into the “This should have had an Oscar” chatter. Not in this case however.  I saw all of the leading actresses that held the main accolade attention that year.  All were great in their own right but I would be lying if I said I didn’t believe that there were performances that were over-rated. Q’orianka did something so magnificent (and bare in mind she did it while internalizing dialague)  she created a full flesh and blood human being whose story is now legend and gave it 1000% soul.  I can’t say that every woman nominated provided that. There’s also a quote (from the novel Corelli’s Mandolin) that I love to share with people when I like to describe how the screenplay juggled the love triangle in this story.  The maturity and depth of how it unfurled and evolved I find that most romance stories lack.  “Love is like a volcano. It errupts and then subsides. When it subsides you have to make a decision.  You have to decide if your roots are entwinded together that it is inconceivable should ever part. For that is what love is. It is not breathless. It is not excitement. It is not the promulgation of eternal passion. For that is just ‘being in love’ which any of us can convince ourselves we are.  Love itself is what’s left over after ‘being in love’ has burned away. “  This quote matches ideally to this specifc film’s theme of love and how to value it. I really do think this is one of the greatest represenations of love for not only another person.  But for re-discovering one’s self-identity in a world that craves to put constraints on it.  This film may be at times emotionally difficult to watch but seeing it unfold and going through all of these heartaches to come out the other side makes me feel as if I have had a reprieve. I love how Terrance Malick’s off kilter filming and editing depicts this beautiful age old adage.   :)  

[strangerivy]

Double Life Strangers - Three

Summary: Lillian agrees to join Thorin’s quest after a short conversation with Gandalf that leaves her with more questions than answers. Warnings: Swearing Pairings: Fíli Durin X Original Character (Lillian)  Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Angst Word Count: 4153 Author’s Note: I am going to try and get one chapter out a week for this until it’s caught up.

Links: || One | Two | Three | Four || Masterlist ||

A knock from my door woke me from the nap I was not meaning to take. I groggily looked up at the door knowing I didn't shut the door to see Gandalf standing there in the doorway smiling down at me holding the black journal in his hands. I sat up in the bed wiping the sleep from my eyes and he closed the door behind him as he came into the room.

"You must have questions," He questioned going over to the fireplace sitting in the wooden chair next to it pulling out his pipe, offering the journal to me, I took it staring at the cover rubbing the engraved gold initials. 

"You know these are my initials in my world too," I announced looking up at him softly laughing at the simple fact, he remained silent waiting for me to keep talking, I sighed not sure where to begin. I set the journal back on the nightstand. "Why am I here? How did I even get here?" He grinned giving me a sympathetic look. He must have known how difficult this is for me.

"Why you are here is yet to be seen. As for how," He paused blowing out a puff of smoke before putting the pipe down "You have always been here," My face sunk, those were not the answers I was looking for. I gave him a confused look not understanding what he was saying. How could someone live two separate lives? It isn't possible. He stood up handing me a folded piece of paper, I took it looking at it and then back up at him confused.

"You will get the answer you seek, in time." I frowned letting out a heavy sigh but nodded opening the folded paper. The contract for Thorin's Company.

"You can't be serious?" I half-laughed looking up at him hoping he was joking but the look on his face told me otherwise, "What good would I be to them? Does Thorin even want me to go?"

"You have a gift for healing and you have yet to discover it as of this moment but you have incredible skill with a bow." I looked back down at the contract reading through the thing. "As for Thorin, you leave that to me." 

"You know I was a doctor in my world and I wasn't just a good doctor, I was a GREAT surgeon." My voice raised a little and I could feel the tears starting to form in my eyes. I was frustrated and the shock of everything that had happened today was finally starting to get to me. I looked back up at him tears slowly rolling down my cheeks and then back at the contract. "What if I don't...What if I-" a soft sob racked through my chest not able to finish the thought.

"I can't help but notice a certain dwarf that would go to great lengths to keep you alive." I looked up at him and he raised his eyebrows at me with a small smirk and it made me smile knowing exactly who he was talking about, I whipped the tears slowly falling down my cheek. I took in a deep breath. I can't believe I am doing this. I looked around noticing a quill on the nightstand grabbing it dipping it in the ink next to it and signed the paper handing it back to Gandalf before I could change my mind.

"What of Bilbo?" I looked up at him and he only smiled gently before walking out of the room. I stared at the fire for a while trying to understand what Gandalf meant by how I have always been here. I groaned in frustration falling back onto the bed stretching my arms out behind me staring up at the ceiling. Another knock came from the doorway.

"Gandalf, I signed the bloody-" I sat up and saw Fíli, he was smiling at me leaning against the doorway and I returned it. "Fíli," I whispered a bit relieved it wasn't Gandalf. I hadn't known him for long but I could tell by how I reacted to him, he was important or at least he would be. No matter how flustered he got me I still felt relaxed around him. Comfortable. Safe.

"May I come in?" I nodded he walked over to the chair Gandalf was sitting in just a moment ago and sat down. "So, you'll be joining us on our quest?" He had a soft smile on him but I could see in his eyes the hint of worry. I nodded my head moving towards the end of the bed.

"Seems to look that way." We sat in silence staring at the fire "I should probably start packing," I got up from the bed stretching my arms above me. I jumped slightly when he was suddenly in front of me his hands on either side of my face his thumb rubbing my cheek softly. He leaned in next to my ear.

"I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe, Lily" he whispered and before I could respond he was out the door to join the others. I gripped the bedpost letting out the shaky breath I was holding in. If I wasn't holding onto the best post for dear life I probably would have fallen to the floor.

After recollecting myself I looked around the room for what I would need. I saw a pack beside the door that I grabbed. I grabbed the journal placing it in and then went into the dresser digging around for what I could need. In the bottom drawer, I found dark brown leather pants, some bracers and a dark cloth corset-like dress that went over an undershirt it was fitted towards the top and flared out as it passed the waist and reached just below my mid-thigh reminding me of a skater cut dress back home just longer and with a hood. I grabbed the last thing in the drawer which was a belt that also had six very small knives on it. Throwing knives. I smiled, whoever I was in this world seemed like a badass and I was okay with that.

I placed the clothing on the bed knowing I was going to need to change into it before we left. I looked behind me and in the corner by the window was a bow and quiver full of arrows. How did I not notice that before? I grabbed it placing it by my pack. That's when I heard the singing, except it wasn't cheerful and upbeat as the song earlier was this was...sad. I walked out of my room and to the edge of the entryway of the sitting room which is where all the dwarves were huddled around the fireplace.

It was the song of Erebor. When the dragon came. I sat down on the floor watching them. Everything from the joy earlier was gone. I met Fíli's eyes and we stared at each other until the song was over, a tear slid down my cheek as I got up and went down the hall to Bilbo's room. He was lying in bed.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a soft whisper going over to him sitting on the edge of the bed "You should be packing,"

"I am not going." He stated flatly, I sucked in a breath a small amount of panic rushed through me

"What do you mean, Bilbo you must! They need you." He turned in his bed to face me and I could see in his eyes he was scared. I softened my expression moving the curls out of his face like I did when he was a child. He shoved my hand away before turning back over. "I hope you do change your mind," I whispered before leaving the room. I went about the house looking for my medicine box. I know it existed, I had a memory of it I just have no idea where it was. I must have been making a lot of noise because Kíli appeared in the room I was currently looking in.

"You should be sleeping," I scoffed looking in a chest I think I had already looked in. 

"You should be sleeping," I mocked back to him moving on looking around the room when I spotted the small box on the desk, I went over grabbing it and opening it. "Finally," I sighed closing the box and walking past Kíli. "Goodnight Kíli," 

"My brother has seemed to take a liking to you," He said as I walked down the hall. Brother? I turned back around 

"Fíli? Fíli is your brother?" I asked him, he walked up towards me taking the box out of my hand motioning me to walk with him.

"Older brother, but yes. How old are you Lillian?" He asked I looked at him as if I was offended by the question grabbing back my box walking into my room

"You should never ask a Lady their age Kíli," I chuckled "But if you must know 80." I shut my door and set the box down next to the pack. I got undress putting on my nightgown crawling into bed. Well, Lillian, you wanted an adventure. I quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

I was woken up hours later by voices coming from outside my door. I pulled the covers up over my head groaning trying to tune them out. I was never a morning person which was going to make this quest extremely difficult.

"You go in there, you’re the one that fancies the lass," I picked up on Kíli's voice, I opened my eyes pulling the covers down just past my eyes looking out the window. It was still dark out.

"NO! That's completely inappropriate!" I heard Fíli's panicked voice now. Do they know there not whispering?  I groaned throwing the covers off knowing that they were there probably to wake me. I got up, a shiver running through my spine as my feet hit the cold floor. I changed my underclothes before putting on the clothes I set aside last night. I was surprised at how comfortable they were. I looked in the dresser again to see if I could find any gloves.

"Why are you huddled around Lillian's room like a bunch of children. Go on I will get her." It was Gandalf's voice now. A knock on the door came.

"Come in," I yelled back groggily.

"She was awake the whole time!" I heard Kíli yell from the down the hall making me laugh quietly to myself, I finally found a pair of leather gloves putting them on. I looked up at Gandalf who had a gentle expression on his face. I returned the smile reaching down to grab the medicine box placing it in the bag.

"Here," I looked up at Gandalf to see he was handing me a water pouch already full and a few things of some bread type thing rapped in cloth. I whispered a thank you, placing the bread in the bag closing it and throwing it over my back. I grabbed the bow and the quiver. "Are you ready my dear," I took a deep breath looking around me noticing a cloak hanging right by the dresser grabbing it before turning to face Gandalf.

"As ready as I'll ever be," He nodded, and I followed him out, as we passed the sitting room I noticed the dwarves had cleaned up nicely and were out on the road packing up their ponies. My eyes met Fíli's and he smiled when he saw me, I grinned back at him and went to step outside but turned around before doing so.

"Bye Bilbo," I whispered before shutting the door, a tear rolled down my cheek. I felt someone try to take my pack from me, I opened my eyes and realized it was Fíli, relaxing my grip letting him take the pack from me.

"Let me help you," I nodded whipping the tear from my cheek forcing myself to smile at him. I don't know why but my heart was breaking, maybe it’s because my memories were melting together with the other Lillian. The Lillian from this world’s memories were feeling like my own and I was about to leave the only home I had ever known in this world. I follow Fíli over to a cinnamon-colored pony, he strapped my pack to the saddle and then took my quiver from me, unbuckling the leather strap reaching around me, my body tensed up at just how close he was, he smelled like trees and smoke. It was comforting. He fastened the leather strap around over my right shoulder and under my left buckling it for me. I shyly looked down and then looked up at him.

"Thank you," I whispered shyly, I grabbed the saddle placing my foot in the stirrup, getting on to the pony. Fíli went over to his pony getting on to it. I looked around and everyone was just about ready and that's when I met Thorin's eyes. His expression was unreadable but it was stern and I felt a chill run down my back. I don't think he approved of Fíli and I's close interactions, I sighed pushing the thought aside and looked out past the water to see the sun beginning to rise just barely over the rolling hills.

"Let’s go!" Thorin yelled and we all started, out into the world outside. I felt a bit of anxiety start to build up inside of me. I took a deep breath looking back watching Bag End disappear as we rounded a corner. We were getting close to the borders of The Shire when I heard a faint yell. I stopped my pony and twisted in the saddle to look behind me.

"What is it?" I heard Gandalf ask stopping his horse as well. I held up my finger signaling him to be quiet so I could listen.

"WAIT!" Bilbo was running down the road to catch up, I couldn't help the smile that was on my face when he came into sight. He slowed down once he reached us stopping at Balin handing him the contract.

"I signed it," He announced placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath, I looked up at Gandalf who also had a smile on. Balin looked over the contract.

"Well, it seems everything is in order. Welcome Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakensheild."  

"Give him a pony," I snorted as Bilbo protested, Bilbo on a pony will be most interesting. Once we finally got him on one, he looked as if he had a stick up his ass.

"Relax Bilbo. It’s not going to kill you!" I laughed matching his pace to stay next to him. He quickly turned his head to face me with a glare.

"Oh, do you speak horse now! " I laughed even harder now almost falling off my pony. I was able to get close enough to him to where I could ruffle his hair, he shoved my hand away fixing his hair looking at me annoyed but with a small smile.

The day went on and when we passed the edge of The Shire border, Bilbo and I looked at each other with worried faces but I tried my best to give him a reassuring smile as if to say we were going to be okay. Things went rather quietly with only a few bickers from the dwarves here and there. It wasn't till mid-afternoon that I had noticed Bilbo was not next to me anymore. I looked around noticing he was now next to Gandalf talking with him. I took in the scenery around me, the cliffs and trees that were so different from the rolling hills of the Shire. I felt a ping of excitement rush through me.

I reached around digging into my pack pulling out the Journal. I decide to get some reading in if possible. There had to be more answers in this Journal seeing as Gandalf was giving me none.

02/4 2938

It's my birthday today, I am 77. Bilbo has insisted we celebrate even if it is just the two of us. It makes him happy so I told him we could. I have been reading my mother’s journal again looking for answers. She speaks a lot about my father and how he was an honest, loyal and kind dwarf. She speaks of why we did not stay with the dwarves after his death. She was afraid. Afraid that without him they would cast her out since she was human so instead of giving them the chance to. She left. In the middle of the night.

I was young, I barely remember it now. It was only a few months later that she grew sick and she tried to find someone in Bree to take me in but no one would. She says her luck changed when she was crying on the side of the road and a Hobbit couple stopped instead of ignoring her taking us both in. It wasn't until she was close to her death that she mentions how he died, it was in a battle. A batt- 

"Lillian!" A shout came pulling me from the journal. I looked around noticing that it was darker now and that my pony had stopped. I finally found Bilbo's face who was only smirking at me. I closed the journal putting it back in my pack. "You’re lucky you didn't ride yourself off the cliff.”

"I was fine Bilbo." I smiled down at him getting off the horse stretching my legs and arms from the ride. I looked around and noticed we were on the edge of a cliff and they were starting a fire. I walked over to Bofur who was getting things ready to prepare dinner. "Anything I could do to help?" 

"Don't worry about it lass, just be ready to eat once it's done!" He grinned up at me, I nodded and walked back to my pack undoing it from the saddle and pulling the journal back out. I grabbed my bedroll and the blanket from the pack and placing it down next to the wall farthest away from the edge but close to the fire. I sat down continuing where I left off.

A battle to take back a homeland for the dwarves. Somewhere we could belong. She hoped one day I would be able to learn who I was and where I came from. That I would one day get to experience the beauty of the dwarven culture. That I would somehow get back to wherever the dwarves are. I hope she is right. I hope one day I can. I want to know. I want to learn. The Hobbits of Hobbiton tolerate me but I know they wish I would leave. Bilbo and I only laugh at them anytime one of them makes a comment.

Bilbo. I think that might be the one thing that holds me back. I don't know if I could leave him. Because if I leave, then he will be all alone. Left to take care of Bag End by himself. I just do not know...

L. 

 I closed the journal and I frowned as more memories flooded my mind. I tried to think back on what Gandalf said back in The Shire. Damn wizards and their cryptic words. 

"You've always been here," I mutter barely above a whisper to myself. What could that mean? How can someone exist in two worlds having two separate lives entirely and also have both memories? I felt as if the Lillian from the journal and myself were merging into one. The emotions of those memories are as if they were my own. I feel everything as if I was the one there. The one watching my mother die. The one feeling like I don't belong. There was no logical explanation. "It’s probably the simplest answer too,"

"Here you go, lass." I looked up and saw Fíli offering me a bowl of what Bofur made. I smelt it and it made my mouth water. I took a bite and it was delicious and it wasn't because I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday before dinner was interrupted. Fíli sat down next to me and then Kíli sat down next to him. We ate our meal in silence which felt awkward and watched the others joke around. I would occasionally laugh at something done or something said. Once finished Fíli stood up offering his hand out to take my bowl I handed it to him and thanked him.

"Can you take mine as well?" Kíli asked the look in his eye clearly gave away that he was messing with Fíli. Fíli looked at him and for a second, I thought he was going to take it.

"You have two legs," Kíli pretended to act hurt by Fíli's words falling backward with his hands over his heart but turned to face me as he was getting up giving me a wink and let out a small laugh. I couldn't help but smile at the brothers as Kíli ran over jumping on Fíli's back and then Fíli throwing him over his shoulder having Kíli land on his back on the rock. I shook my head at them grabbing the journal off my lap and placed it back in my pack. I leaned against the rock wall starring into the fire. It didn't take long for me to drift off.

I woke up to the sound of Thorin's voice. He was talking to someone about me. I kept my eyes closed so I could listen to the conversation pretending to still be asleep.

"I am not so sure you should be pursuing this woman, my sister-son" I felt something shift under me and that's when I realized my head was resting on someone's shoulder.

"And why not uncle? Because she's only half-dwarf or is it because she is half-human?" It was Fíli's shoulder I was on I could feel my cheeks warm-up, but I tried to calm myself down to not give away that I was now awake, I could hear in his voice that he was annoyed by his uncle’s concern.

"No, it has nothing to do with that, even if she is only half, she is still Kin." Thorin raised his voice a little but lowered it again. "She's lived with Hobbits her whole life Fíli, I don't suspect she will stay after this is over." A loud screech came out of the forest below that made me shoot up forgetting that I was trying to pretend sleep. Bilbo was over by his pony and looked at me worried before walking back over to the fire.

"What was that?" I whispered, hearing the noise again searching the trees below to see if there was any movement

"Orc's," Kíli said behind me I looked down at him trying to read him 

"Orcs?" I asked worried evident in my voice, Thorin sat up at the mention of orcs and for a brief second, I could see the panic in his face but then it was gone, he turned to look out into the words below us but stayed seated on the rock he was on.

"Throat cutters, they’ll be dozens of them out there." I looked back down at Fíli now who was smoking from his pipe "The low lands are crawling with them." I looked back out into the forest as more screeches came from them. They weren't close, but it was loud enough to send a shiver down my spine and make the hairs on my neck stand up.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone is asleep. Quick and quiet. No screams. Just lots of blood." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kíli smirk. I instantly relaxed but became annoyed with the brown-haired dwarf. I took off my gloves turning quickly around and smacking Kíli right across his smug face.

"You asshole, you nearly scared me half to death," I quietly yelled trying not to wake those who were sleeping continuing to hit him with my gloves.

"Ow! You...should have seen...OW THAT ONE HURT!" 

"You think a night raid by orcs is funny," I stopped mid-swing at Kíli whose smile slowly turned into a frown. I turned towards Thorin now who started walking away towards the edge of the cliff. 

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kíli muttered, I turned around going back to sit down next to Fíli who I could tell was trying to keep in a laugh.

"Shut up," I muttered quietly so Thorin wouldn't hear who was extremely upset about Kíli and Fíli's what seemed to be a harmless joke.

"No, you didn't, you know nothing of the world."

[the-paris-of-people]

That Cute Couple You See at a Coffee Shop

SURPRISE! (Or not?) I’m your @tgpsecretsanta @alys07! I hope you enjoy this Cheleanor Cinderella Story/College AU I wrote for you! You can read it on AO3 or down in the cut below! 

P.S. special thanks to @chidi-anagonye for editing! <3 

Summary: What happens when Chidi and Eleanor begin messaging each other online, with no idea of who the other really is? 

Words: 5555

I got my latte with almond milk this morning, pinged Chidi’s penpal. A special shoutout to you, bud.

A grin slipped onto Chidi’s lips. He was in the middle of class, his seminar about Middle Eastern civilization, but still he typed back,

I’m jealous. But! at least you’re able to enjoy it without any of my agony and guilt.

Did you just make a joke? She wrote back. Look at you! I’m impressed. Character development.

You taught me well.

“Chidi!” Tahani hissed, catching Chidi in the middle of his lovestruck look at his computer. “Chidi!” She cried again, tapping his desk with her manicured index finger.

“Huh? What?”

“Look, I know you are quite infatuated with this mystery girl, but can you please pay attention for one moment so we can meet with our group project partners?”

“Right! Sorry!” Chidi cleared his throat. As he whipped out his notes from his backpack, Tahani squinted at Chidi’s iMessage. Blushing furiously, Chidi clicked the ‘X’ at the corner of the window. The last thing Tahani needed to see were his ramblings from last night, after he told his mystery friend that he wished they were a couple he had seen at the coffeehouse, studying together, staring into each other’s eyes. He then panicked because he realized how desperate he sounded. To cover for his semi-flirty messages, he typed out a long explanation, spanning paragraphs, but it didn’t work. He was bad at lying, and the worst part was, he wasn’t even drunk. He was just that awkward.

“Ugh,” Tahani sighed, flopping down in the seat next to him dramatically. “Chidi, you obviously like this girl. It’s been three months. Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?”

“First of all,” Chidi shut his laptop. “You should not be reading my messages! Also, no. It wouldn’t be right to disclose my feelings if she doesn’t have all of the information she can possibly can have about me. And! I don’t know if she has a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or if she’s romantically interested in any gender at all! It would be ethically unsound for me to dump that burden on her. And since finals are approaching, and it might distract her, too!”

“I mean that’s technically true, but still-“

“Alright!”  interrupted Eleanor, the de facto leader of their project team, barreling in from the doorway. “Let’s get to work!”

Perfect timing, Chidi thought, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Did you just get to class?” he inquired, eyeing the coffee cup still in hand and scarf around her neck. It didn’t surprise him, Eleanor always came late, but still, it floored Chidi how she strolled in with unabashed confidence. Chidi shriveled away when he arrived even one minute late, how could Eleanor muster the guts to come forty five minutes after class began?

“Long line at Michael’s,” Eleanor explained, setting her cup down and pulling her messy notes onto the desk. As Chidi learned from their midterm presentation, Eleanor wasn’t the best student, but she was the best at organizing their projects of the four of them. Unlike Chidi, she didn’t waver on which details to include and unlike Tahani, she wasn’t concerned with how to woo the teacher for self-validation. And unlike Jason, she actually had… a brain, so she could contribute sometimes.

(To be honest, Chidi didn’t know how Jason got into college at all. Not that he minded having him there, he always offered free snacks at their group meetings, but he wasn’t... the sharpest tool in the shed)

“By the way, I saw Jason nuzzling with Janet by the windows,” Eleanor mentioned. “ So I guess they’re not coming either.”

“Wait, Jason and Janet together?” Tahani asked, flabbergasted. Tahani wasn’t the only one surprised. Jason was a great guy but Janet wasn’t exactly... his type. She was pretty, funny, president of the student body and the Scholars Club. On top of that, she knew everything. He wasn’t exaggerating. She literally knew everything. Sometimes his friend Simone joked she was secretly a robot.  “Since when have they been… dating?”

“I wouldn’t say they’ve been ‘dating’ if you know what I mean,” Eleanor snorted. She flipped through her stack of loose leaf paper and pulled out her project notes, clicking into her planning mode, “Alright, so we have five more days to put together our final presentation, and from what I remember from what we talked about on Tuesday, no one has any weekend finals, so I vote we get together Saturday and Sunday and just bang this shiz out, ya feel me?” Proud of her quick thinking, Eleanor laid back in her seat and propped her feet up on Jason’s vacant chair.

“Oh!” Tahani clucked. “I’m sorry Eleanor! But no can do!”

“I’m sorry?” Eleanor sat back up.

“What Tahani is trying to say is, the Scholars Club has a ball on Saturday of winter finals week,” Chidi filled her in, “And since Tahani and I are on the board, we’re busy planning until Saturday, and then on Sunday, we have to clean up and debrief, so it probably won’t be until Monday that we can work on the presentation.”

“Seriously?” Eleanor threw her head back and groaned.  “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

“Well, we’ve been caught up with other finals, Scholars Club events, I’m part of the Plato society…”

“Oh my god, I get it, you ner-” Eleanor paused mid-sentence.

Chidi cocked his head at her. Was she about to say nerds? Huh. He felt like he had heard that phrase from somewhere, but he couldn’t place where…

“-naturally very busy overachievers,” Eleanor covered. She froze for a second before flapping her lips exasperatedly, folding up her notes and shoving them back into her backpack. “I guess we’ll just do it on Monday around my philosophy final, then.”

“I’m sorry, Eleanor,” Tahani patted her hand. “But I promise I’ll come by your dorm tonight to give you that face cream. It will make all your blemishes disappear!”

“Tahani, I never said-”

“Oh, I’m so excited to see your triple, Eleanor!” Tahani interrupted, clapping her hands together. “I bet it’s just so… quaint.”

She shot her one last grin before gathering all her books and striding away, her floral dress billowing behind her. Eleanor’s mouth dropped open at she watched Tahani exit, still wondering what just happened.

“Don’t worry,” Chidi told her. “She gave me face cream last week, too. You don’t need it.”

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled before she coughed and stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. For some reason, Chidi found himself liking the way her eyes glimmered under the fluorescent lights, how the ends of her mouth softened, how her cheeks tinted pink. She looked pretty.

Calm down, Chidi, he scolded himself as he shook his head. One crush at a time.

***

I ate a quesadilla for lunch today, Chidi texted mystery girl later that day, at the library with Uzo. And now I have a giant stomach ache.

I’m sorry, philosophy cutie, she instantly replied. I wish you didn’t feel so sick all the time :(

The campus health center is open until 7. She added. Maybe you can make an appointment? She sent him a link to the online appointment maker.

I have to study for my psych final tomorrow, Chidi messaged. But thank you for checking for me. That was really nice of you.

Guess you’re not the only one with character development.  :)

Chidi chuckled to himself. He began crafting a witty response, clicking on the urban dictionary link he bookmarked to match her constant use of casual slang. He felt Uzo peering over his shoulder and turned around.

“Shrimp freak again?” Uzo lifted an eyebrow.

Chidi nodded.

Uzo, his childhood best friend, his roommate, his pseudo-brother, was one of the only people who knew the full story. Of how Chidi wrote under a pen name for the university’s online philosophy zine. Of how one day, “StoneColdSteveAustinfreak” had commented on his post, mocking his rigidity and suggesting he “lighten up.” Chidi responded politely, requesting that she directly contact him for her difference in perspective, and two days later, he received a message from shrimpfreak1014 over his newspaper gmail chat. At the time, he was refining his midterm paper for deontology, checking every now and again for messages. Somehow, he remained embroiled in an argument with her until three A.M.

She irritated Chidi to to end. She was argumentative, and she made fun of his nerdy habits, and her sense of humor was cruder than he liked. But at the same time, Chidi didn’t want to stop talking to her. She was sharp and witty and unlike anyone he’d ever met. She was selfish, but she was trying to be better. She was rude, but she apologized when she went too far. She coined herself as a moral particularist, yet she sometimes cited Kant in her arguments, emphasizing when she did just to tease him.

And soon, as their chats grew more and more frequent, they became closer. She messaged him during her work breaks, and he talked to her while he worked on his homework late at night, bags sagging under his eyes as he alternated between his essay about Plato to their discussion of Tim Scanlon. They were friends, advisors, maybe even confidantes, their conversations ranging from philosophy to their favorite coffeehouse on campus to their lives outside of university. She told him how she emancipated from her parents at fourteen, how she worked three jobs to pay off her student loans, how she decided to become a better person after a near-death experience getting her stomach pumped. He confided that his grandmother passed away last year and he missed her, he missed the snacks she used to send and the stews she used to serve. Since then, he told her, he had been more anxious than usual, the simplest of decisions causing his palms to sweat and his leg to bounce .

Listen, dude, how about this? She wrote. Since you’ve been my dorky mentor and you’ve helped me a better person and all the junk, why don’t I help you make decisions? I’m good at that stuff, anyway.

You would do that? He asked.

Yeah, man, I owe it to you! She insisted. The next time you freak out over a big decision just come to me.

And so he came to her each time he freaked out, faced with a choice between white or black, right or left, frozen mocha or coffee.

Just get the frozen mocha, she would reply, as if choosing was so easy. You don’t even like the taste of fair trade coffee at the cafe, so why not get something you enjoy?

You’re right, said Chidi, shocked at her ability to choose without qualms. And so they went on, Chidi as her philosophy mentor and shrimpfreak as his decision maker, and Chidi found himself aching for her messages. During the day, his mind began drifting to her: how perfectly she complemented Chidi, how since they started talking, he softened her and she strengthened him. He wonder about her in ways he shouldn’t, about how her eyes were probably bright and fearless, about if her mouth would curl after a quip, about how her skin would feel against his, cuddling in Chidi’s bed-

No, no, no. It was wrong. How could he have a crush on her when-

“Chidi?” Uzo waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him back to reality. “Chidi? Dude, are you freaking out about your crush on shrimp freak again?”

“A little,” Chidi squeaked. “Okay, well a lot,” He admitted. “I can’t handle this anymore, Uzo! I mean I’ve kept this from her for way too long, and I’m the one who’s always maintained a moral code of honesty! And if I do tell her how I feel, it could potentially destroy our relationship and all the progress she’s made! And who am I to destroy progress, Uzo? I don’t have that kind of authority!”

“Listen, you’ve got to calm down, man,” Uzo advised, while Chidi gasped for air. “Look, it seems like this is eating you alive inside…”

“Pretty much everything does!”

“Right, but it seems like you like her a lot, so… why don’t you put yourself out there? ” He punched Chidi lightly on the shoulder. “Ask her to the Scholars Club ball.”

“The Scholars Club ball?”

“The Scholars Club ball.” Uzo nodded. “Just so you have a shot at meeting in person. I mean, it’s been four months and you don’t even know her real name. You can just go as friends, too. No pressure. But this way, you don’t have to worry about her not knowing who you really are, and if you want, you can come clean and tell her about your feelings.”

“Huh. That’s not a bad idea, actually.” Chidi pondered, tilting his head. If they went to the Scholar’s Ball together, they could have a lot of fun. Shrimpfreak could meet Uzo and Tahani and Simone, and they could talk and laugh all through the night. And maybe, just maybe, (just a thought!) they could slow-dance together, too. He even knew how to sell it to her. There were tons of caterers and free cocktail shrimp. He’s sure she would like that.

But there were drawbacks, too, and Chidi had to consider those, too. Maybe he could make a pros and cons list. Or maybe he would use that Magic 8 Ball in the student union to make a decision for him.

“I’ll think about it,” he told Uzo.

“You’re going to stay up all night agonizing about whether to ask her, aren’t you?” Uzo anticipated.

“Yeah, pretty much!”

“I know you too well, buddy,” Uzo laughed.

***

“Eleanor!” Tahani sang outside her door. “I have your face cream!”

“Oh, no,” Eleanor muttered. “Here we go.”

She closed her laptop and ripped down her Stone Cold Steve Austin poster. Eleanor wasn’t sure if Chidi told her about their messages, but wasn’t taking any chances. She scanned her room for any other defining items that might give her away. Luckily, she wasn’t much of a decorator, unlike Becky, who littered her desk with pictures of cats, Spiderman figurines, and frog drawings by her cousin, Jeremy. Yeah, sure, the frog sketches were cute, but the Spiderman figurines? Come on, Becky!

“Hello, Eleanor!” Tahani greeted as Eleanor opened the door, waltzing right into her room without permission.

“Sure, come on in, Tahani. I definitely invited you.” Eleanor grumbled and flopped onto her bed.

“Here’s a bag with some face cream, and some other Korean skincare products I’d thought you might like to try!” Tahani perched herself on the edge of Eleanor’s bed. As she examined the rest of Eleanor’s dorm room, her face scrunched. “Why, this space is awfully… cramped…”

“Because it’s a dorm room,” Eleanor drawled sarcastically. “It’s small? It’s something normal college students usually live in?”

“I mean it’s nothing compared to the spacious single I have in the Scholar’s Club house, and it’s not as quaint as I thought, but I have to admit, it’s quite cute. Aside from the Spiderman figurines on that desk, which are creeping me out…”

“Right? Thank you!” Eleanor threw her hands up in the air emphatically. “I keep telling Becky to turn them to the side so we don’t have to see them!”

“Though I suppose they would creep out the people walking and looking at the dorm windows,” Tahani giggled.

“Haha! You’re right!” Eleanor snickered. “There’s no winning, is there?”

“Not unless you accidentally throw them in the garbage can!” Tahani joked.

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had, babe!” Eleanor rolled over from laughing so hard. Tahani, who was keeling over with her laughter along with her, suddenly stopped, focusing on the left corner of Eleanor’s room.

Eleanor’s eyes widened. Oh no. She had completely forgotten that she left her work backpack on her desk. It was free of badges and patches and tacky Becky-like decorations… besides the small shrimp keychain on the zipper.

Shit.

“Say Eleanor,” Tahani spun back towards Eleanor. “Shrimp doesn’t happen to be your favorite food, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tahani,” Eleanor challenged, shooting Tahani her sharpest eyes. Tahani’s normally light demeanor darkened to match Eleanor’s venomous stare.

“Anyway,” Eleanor swung her legs around her bed and stood up. The faster she could shove Tahani out of the room, the better. “I think it’s time for you to go, Tahani,” She pushed Tahani back towards the door with her feeble muscles. Jeez, she was surprisingly strong. “Buh-bye! See you Monday!”

“Hang on just a second,” Tahani resisted Eleanor’s shove.“You don’t happen to have a poster of Stone Cold Steve Austin, do you?”

“Again,” Eleanor choked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tahani. See you later, okay buh-bye!”

“Oh, really?” Tahani smugly leaned against the doorframe, pointing to the back of the room. “Then why is that Stone Cold Steve Austin poster on the ground?”

Eleanor flicked her eyes back to the back of the room. Her Stone Cold Steve Austin poster was lying face-up. Fuck. She tore the poster down but she forgot to turn it over or hide it under the bed. Damn it, Eleanor!

“Okay, fine, you caught me!” Eleanor caved. She sighed and walked back to her bed. “I’m shrimpfreak1014.”

“Well, since I am very well-connected,” bragged Tahani, shutting the door and joining her on the bed. “I happen to know the identity of the lucky man you’ve been talking with-”

“Please,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “ I know it’s Chidi. I sit behind him in class and he’s not super discrete about messaging on his laptop.”

“Oh,” Tahani shook herself out of her initial shock before agreeing, “That is true. But if you know who he is, and you both are very close, why don’t you tell him who you are?”  

Because it’s Chidi, she wanted to say. He’s intelligent and patient and kind and he genuinely cares about people. He cares about me. But I don’t even know if he cares about me me. Eleanor me.

And I couldn’t stand losing him if he didn’t.

“Because I don’t even know if he likes me,” she said instead. She avoided Tahani’s gaze as her eyes welled with tears, tucking the strands of hair behind her ears. God, she probably looked like an idiot, getting all soft talking about how much she liked him. “We always bicker while working on projects, and he always gives me a funny look whenever I say something ignorant, and I just… I don’t want him to change his mind if he knows who I really am…”

“Eleanor,” comforted Tahani, rubbing her back in circles. “I’ve known Chidi for a long time, and he doesn’t dislike anyone. Including you. And also…” Tahani hesitated  “You never know how someone will react if you tell them how you feel, so it never hurts to try. Like the time I told Daniel Radcliffe that…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Eleanor cut her off. “I always get it. But…. Thanks, Tahani. I guess. Maybe. I’ll think about it.” She smiled up at her in between sniffles.

“No problem, friend,” Tahani gave her one last pat on the back before heading back to the door, this time, without Eleanor forcing her out. “Well, I better get going. I have to run a bunch of errands for the ball. But Eleanor,” Tahani lingered in the doorway, rocking back and forth on her feet. “If you ever want to get lunch or something…I’d be happy to put something in my calendar.”

“That would be great, Tahani,” accepted Eleanor, grinning. Sure, Tahani was a snob, and she name-dropped too much. She wore heels even though she didn’t need them, and she was too concerned with her popularity…but she also had a good heart. And she was kind of fun to be around. It was only fair that Eleanor gave her a chance.

“But only if we go to get burgers,” she added. “I’m not much of a fancy girl, and you could use some loosening up.”

“Well, I look forward to the grease.” Tahani bobbed her head, then double-checked, “Is grease something to look forward to?”

“You’ll see, babe,” Eleanor winked at her. “You’ll see.”

***

Chidi paced up and down the shiny, hardwood floor of the Scholars Club house kitchen. He had been at it for an hour and a half. Femi already came down to check if he was okay, and he had already scarfed down three bananas from the ornate ceramic fruit bowl Tahani had made for the kitchen. Okay, he was going to go over the possible outcomes one last time, then he was going to decide on what to do…

Hey, bud, his phone vibrated in his hand, disrupting his train of thought. Haven’t heard from you in awhile. Feeling alright?

Chidi trembled as he reread the message. He couldn’t keep up this charade any longer, otherwise he would just end up freezing her out. Yeah, that’s what normally ended up happening with his friends and ex-girlfriends he couldn’t break secrets to, but he didn’t want this to happen with her. He didn’t want to lose her; he wanted this, finally, to be the one that stuck.

You know what? His mind whipped into shape and settled, He was going to do it. If shrimpfreak had taught him anything, it was how to be more decisive. He yearned so badly to meet her, he yearned for nothing else, but he was letting the tossing and turning of his mind prevent him from going for what he desired.

Hey! He texted. Thanks for checking up on me. I was just thinking how to ask you something. So I’m part of the Scholars Club on campus and we’re having a ball on Saturday night. Do you want to go with me? Just as friends, of course. There’ll be free shrimp!

He held his breath while he waited for her response. Nothing.

He removed another banana from the fruit bowl. Maybe the overload of potassium could somehow carry him through the day.

***

It was only in his final class of the day, creating a study guide for philosophy of neuroscience alongside Simone, when he heard back from shrimpfreak1014:

Sorry man, I have work from 9-5 tomorrow and then I have to finish my group project. :(  

Oh, Chidi responded, swallowing his disappointment. I understand. Good luck with finals! If you end up having time, feel free to come by.  

Yeah, honestly, dude, I’m not really sure if I will. I don’t know if I’m ready to meet yet.

Chidi blinked, pushing down the sickening feeling slithering up his throat.

That’s okay, He reassured, although he was stewing in his own regret. We can just meet when we’re ready. There’s no rush, right?

No response.

Chidi heaved as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“You okay, Chidi?” Simone asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” He somehow managed to lie through his heaving. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

This was why he couldn’t make decisions.

***

On the day of the ball, Chidi rose with dread.

He was surprised he could get up at all- his muscles fatigued from restless turning, his eyes strained from rereading old messages all night. Uzo calmed him down for a little bit in the morning, promising that shrimp freak just needed some time to process the idea of meeting him in person. Chidi told him he was probably right, but still, he checked his phone a couple more times to see if she had messaged back.

The rest of the day kept him distracted enough; he and the rest of the board met in the living room to begin ball preparations: wrapping carnations around the banisters, confirming arrival times of the caterers, transporting surprise gift bags to the gazebo. He felt normal, for the most part- until he overheard Simone and Vicky talking about their dates.

Chidi’s stomach boiled with agony. He didn’t know why he cared so much- he had been fine with not having a date, with not meeting his secret friend in the near future. Now he couldn’t get it out of his head, and he hated himself for it. Why did he have to go and ruin everything?

As the sun lowered over the Scholars Club house hill, the guests rolled into the living room. Chidi feigned a smile as he tore them in half, trying not to let his misery get the best of them. They had planned this ball for months and at least it was going well: the decorations colorful yet classy, the guests adorned in flowing gowns and fitted suits.

After he finished up registration, Chidi floated throughout the house to different groups, greeting them and asking if they were having a good time. It wasn’t a distraction, he tried to convince himself. It was part of his job as a board member. He wasn’t trying to keep his mind off shrimpfreak at all. He wasn’t even thinking about her.

“Chidi!” beckoned Simone from the kitchen.

Chidi let out a sad smile and moved towards Tahani, Uzo, and Simone. As he approached them, Tahani handed him a plate of shrimp. Chidi thanked her gratefully and popped it in his mouth, humming delightfully at its taste.

“Mmmm.” He turned to Tahani. “You did a great job with all of this. The shrimp is so much better than last year, and people seem to be having a great time.”

“It’s much better than the one Kamilah threw two years ago, isn’t it?”

“Oh, much better,” Chidi reassured, and he meant it. Kamilah’s taste was a little too loud and garish for him, but Tahani struck the tasteful balance between sophisticated and fun.

“Be honest,” Uzo slugged an arm around his shoulder. “How are you holding up, man?”

“Could be better,” He shrugged. “But, I’m not doing horrible. I think… I’m going to go outside for a little bit. Get some fresh air.”

“Oh,” Uzo dropped his arm from his shoulders. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m okay.”

“Would you like some more shrimp, Chidi?” Tahani extended out another plate.

“I’m good,” Chidi tried to think of an excuse so he didn’t sound lame “I’ll come back in later… maybe… to get some more.”

Skeptically, Simone crossed her arms. “You’re going to go outside and read until you calm down for a bit, aren’t you?”

“I-I-I-I-I, um-” Chidi stuttered, but their gleeful chortles freed him explanation.

“Go ahead, mate,” Simone shooed him off. “Just come back after the dance ends to clean up. We’re going out to iHop after.”

Chidi confirmed their plans one last time before he left for the gazebo. On the way out, he grabbed his copy of Symposium, the one he had purposely left on the living room table in case he wanted to escape. Deftly, he balanced the book with his plate of shrimp as he pushed open the door. He paused on the steps to appreciate how beautiful the night was, the thickness of the black winter sky, the shimmering stars that lay overhead. The gazebo stood brightly against the dark with its fresh white paint, quickly drawing Chidi in with its solitaire.

Ever since he was a freshman, Chidi sought solace in the gazebo. He frequently snuck away when he needed to be by himself, especially after his grandmother passed away. It boasted a sprawling view of the campus and open panels that breathed in fresh air. Yes, the paint was chipping, and the roof crumbled when it rained, but Chidi loved it nonetheless. Last spring, Tahani held a fundraiser for its restoration, and by fall, it had returned to its former glory. The days of Chidi’s secret, safe place slipped away as he found kids, not even from the Scholar’s Club, using it as a gathering spot to down shots. He was surprised no one was out here right now. He hoped it stayed that way.

Chidi closed his eyes, listening to the plucking of the guitar seep out of the house. He was in his favorite place. The music inside was slowing, the shadows were swaying loosely, and he felt, just for once, that he could handle things.

He opened his book and begin to read.

“Hey nerd,” A brash voice echoed from the doorway mid-paragraph. He snapped his head up to see a familiar frame leaning against the entrance. Wait… was that? No… it couldn’t be…

“Are you reading Plato during the ball?” teased Eleanor. She sauntered over and joined him on the bench.

Chidi opened his mouth to ask her more questions, but instead, he broke into a grin. It was Eleanor. Of course it was Eleanor. No one else was as funny and hard-working and brave as she was. He should have known. He had crushes on both shrimpfreak and Eleanor for the same reasons; how could he not have figured it out before?

“Just needed to get away for a little bit.” He shut back his book and slid it to the side. Eleanor was dressed more casually than normal. Her hair was messy, she sported oversized, food-stained sweats, and still, Chidi couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “Did you kn-”

“Yeah, yeah, I knew,” Eleanor scoffed. “You leave your messages open way too much, Chidi.”

“Right,” Chidi couldn’t help but laugh. She was right. Tahani was always telling him that, too.

Eleanor bit her lip and gave him a shy smile.

He scooted closer to her.

“Um, I created a rough outline of the project!” She cried. She began fiddling with her fingers. “It’s almost done, we just have to add more details in the slides.”

“You worked on the project?” Chidi felt himself warm towards her. He knew how much she hated schoolwork. “Without us there?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor shifted in her seat. “I mean, you and Tahani and Jason are all my friends. I just figured it would make things easier for all of us, since I had the time.”

“That was really nice of you, Eleanor,” His voice fell quietly at the end of his sentence. Eleanor glanced down at her shoes, failing to hide her blush. Chidi wanted to hold her so badly, but he kept talking,

“So, you emancipated from your parents when you were fourteen?”

“Yup. That’s why I work three jobs. I’m surprised you never noticed. I’ve been on shift when you ordered your frozen mochas at the coffeehouse.”

“And you like shrimp?”

“More than I love life itself. And I’m ready to wolf down this unlimited free shrimp! If I’m still allowed to, that is.”

Chidi ducked his head down and chuckled to himself. He couldn’t wait to talk with her the rest of the night.  

“I can’t believe you came,” he said happily. “I’m really happy you did.”

“You are?” Eleanor’s eyes shone.

“Of course I am,” He lifted her hand and stroked her palm with his thumb. Eleanor wove her fingers in his and squeezed his hands, leaning her forehead against his.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. He could feel her shaking against him. “I said no because I freaked out, not because I didn’t want to see you.”

“I understand,” Chidi empathized. “I freak out all the time.”

“That couldn’t be more true,” Eleanor agreed endearingly.

They moved in closer to each other.

“Eleanor?” Chidi licked his lips nervously. He didn’t know why he was about to ask what he was about to ask, but he really wanted to. “Can I- can I kiss you?”

Eleanor beamed up at him.

“Go ahead, bud.”

Chidi sprang his lips onto Eleanor’s, moving his mouth passionately against hers. Eleanor drew back at first, startled, but then she sank into the kiss, her mouth curving against Chidi’s in a smile. Chidi removed his hand from hers and wrapped them around her back, sliding one down to her waist and the other up her back. As Eleanor laid her hands on his stomach and let them travel up to his shoulders, Chidi reveled in having her fingers against his chest. This, he realized, thoughts unlocking as they kissed and kissed, is what he always dreamed of. It was always Eleanor he heard when reading her messages. It was always Eleanor he imagined kissing. It was always Eleanor he longed to be near, and now he finally was: her tiny little body pressed against his, her mouth moving with trademark feistiness he admired and loved.

They kissed until their lips grew weary, reluctantly pulling apart as they clung to each other still. Eleanor gazed up at him, her eyes full, and it struck Chidi that he’d never seen her so happy. Guess they both made each other that way.

Chidi kissed her forehead as she snuggled herself his chest. He felt ready to make million decisions right then, with Eleanor in his arms in his favorite place, the brisk air gusting all around them.  

“Hey, shrimpfreak.” He bumbled as the music spilled back into the gazebo, “Do you- do you maybe want to dance? Um, with me?”

Eleanor laughed, tugging Chidi up onto his feet.

“Come on, Kantafficado.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Show me how it’s done.”

[sofreakinmanyfandoms]

Rebound - Chapter 4

@cryforfandoms, I know I have you beta-ing this, but it’s time to post it and I literally just finished writing it five minutes ago. I promise to have the next chapter done early enough for you to read it in advance.

That said...this has literally no editing because I got sucked into a Stony A/B/O fic and I’m dying to get back to it. I almost didn’t get the chapter done because I couldn’t pull myself away. 

Why did writing this take so long? Because I hate totally BSing things, and that’s what I did. The farm is a real place in Queens, and some of this is stuff they have listed on their events page, but I’ve never been that far north on the east coast so I’m basing pretty much everything off of my experiences on the mid-western farms I visited while in college.

Word count: 1338

Warnings: Alcoholism starts to rear its ugly head. There are many thirsty thoughts. I mean, reader is spending the day with Steve, of course there are thirsty thoughts.

------------------------------

Was this a date? If it was, what were you supposed to wear? Heck, if it wasn’t, what were you supposed to wear? You stood in front of your closet mirror, a frown etched into your brow. With a sigh, you finally settled on your favorite sweater and some soft leggings. At least you could be somewhat comfortable physically if not mentally.

A knock on the apartment door brought you out of your admittedly less-than-productive thoughts. Opening it, you found Steve standing there in the same jacket he’d been wearing earlier, though he’d changed into a light blue button-down and… good grief, were those leather motorcycle pants? Either the man knew exactly how to make himself look his most attractive or he was completely oblivious to the effect he had on the straight female and gay male populations. You suspected it was the latter, which somehow made him even more attractive, and you almost hated him for it.

“Any recommendations for what jacket I wear?” you asked him, motioning him into the apartment. “You know, since I have no idea what to dress for?”

“Um, something fairly warm,” he said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. The man would kill you with how oblivious he was before the day was over. “It’s a little chilly out and we’ll be taking my bike. Oh, and shoes you can walk in.”

That caught your attention. Mr. Innocent’s leather pants were functional, not aesthetical. “You have a bike?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “bought her in high school and fixed her up when I got back from the war. I’ve found that just riding for a stretch of time on the highway helps clear my head pretty well.”

“Okay, then.” You grabbed one of Clint’s leather jackets from the closet (might as well wear something that would protect you if the hunk of masculine perfection turned out to be a bad driver) and slipped into your most comfortable pair of boots. “Lead the way.”

Your eyes widened at the two of you exited the building and your eyes fell on the sleek black Harley.

“When you said you had a bike, you really meant you had a bike. She’s a beauty.”

“Thanks,” he beamed, a hint of pride coming through. “I try to keep her nice.”

“You’re doing a great job from what I can tell.”

You mounted the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Even through his clothing you could feel the flex of his abs when he shifted his weight for turns. How had you not noticed those muscles when you woke up this morning? If you couldn’t have alcohol to distract you, at least you had this specimen to keep your mind occupied.

Though you hadn’t asked where you were going, the ride was longer than you had expected. It was almost 40 minutes before Steve slowed and pulled into… a dirt parking lot. It wasn’t even gravel; it was straight up dirt with grass growing where it hadn’t been worn down by people driving over it.

“Well,” Steve said as the two of you dismounted, “we’re here.”

The sign said “Queen’s County Farm Museum,” and you fought back the urge to groan. What kind of date was this supposed to be?

“I, uh, wasn’t sure what sort of thing you’d like,” Steve said, seemly sensing your lack of enthusiasm, “but they’re doing a fall festival today. Haunted house, hayrides, live music, petting zoo – they’re even keeping their corn maze open late so people can do it in the dark.”

A fall festival with Halloween-type stuff? That… actually sounded kind of fun. You gave him a smile and linked your arm in his.

“It’s perfect. Lead the way, Steve.”

----------

Face painting. They’d even had face painting. You laughed as you looked at Steve, his face painted like an orange striped kitten. Your own panda design was getting itchy as it dried, but you didn’t mind. You hadn’t felt this light since the early days of dating Brock.

You’d started with the hayride. A lovely elderly couple had sat next to you and the lady had told you how she and her husband had met on a hayride nearly sixty years ago. They tried to go on one every year in memory of that first meeting. It had been a really sweet story, even if her implication for you and Steve had made the two of you blush.

The pumpkin patch had been next. You’d found a pumpkin small enough you could carry it back with you, but round enough that it would still make a good jack-o-lantern. It had taken almost an hour and Steve had looked ready to smash the next pumpkin you rejected before you saw it. He’d been so relieved you’d found one that he’d almost tripped over five others on the way to pay for it.

Then you’d found the face painting, followed by a trip into the haunted house. It was geared towards kids so you didn’t think it was very scary, but Steve had definitely jumped and grabbed your hand a few times. It had been that much funnier with his face paint on.

You’d probably never admit it, but the petting zoo had been your favorite. There were two baby goats that were just the cutest things you’d ever seen and a foal that seemed to really want to eat Steve’s shirt.

Now it was almost 9 pm and the two of you had just made it out of the corn maze. Steve was slightly freaking out because he’d stuck his hand in a spider’s web and couldn’t quite get it all off. The farm was closing for the night, so the two of you made your way back to his bike. You subtly reached out and brushed a spider off the back of his shoulder. He probably shouldn’t ever find out it was there.

The ride back was as peaceful as the wind down a highway on a bike surrounded by traffic could be. You kept your pumpkin tucked carefully under one arm, and Steve was careful around corners since you only had the other arm around his waist. At least, that’s what you assumed. (He was actually doing it because your grip tighten around him on the turns, and he was trying to draw out the time he could feel you pressed that much closer to him.)

He dropped you off with a smile and a request to see you tomorrow evening whether Clint let you back in The Archer or not. Why not? After all, he was practically a Greek sculpture of a man and you needed something to distract you anyway.

But even as distracting as the day had been, once you were alone in your apartment the images and emotions all came back. You needed a drink and you needed it now. With a sigh, you grabbed a coat and slipped your boots back on. It was too late to buy any hard liquor, but the convenience store at the corner had beer. That would have to do.

----------

Clint came home after a long day at the bar, ready to collapse in bed and sleep until the sun was high tomorrow. What he wasn’t ready for was the sight of you passed out on the couch, surrounded by a dozen beer bottles.

He tried to unclench his jaw as he pulled out his phone and dialed Steve’s number.

“Hello?” Steve sounded like Clint had woken him up.

“The point of not letting her in the bar tonight was so she’d have a night of not drinking.”

“Huh?” The man sounded genuinely confused. “What are you talking about, Clint?”

“Y/N. I thought you were taking her out so she could have a non-alcoholic distraction?”

“I did,” Steve insisted, suddenly sounding much more awake. “There was no alcohol involved, I promise. We went to a fall festival. It was a family thing, there wasn’t even hard cider.”

Uh oh. Clint sighed. “Then we have a problem…”

[cherry3point14]

CAN’T GET NO SATISFACTION | CHAPTER 2

DESCRIPTION: You are VP of Sales for a company with stores and major distribution links across the country and your executive assistant, and only real friend, is leaving. A temp is brought in to replace her, on probation, for you try him out. Of course, nobody told you that it was a him, or that his name was Dean Winchester, or that you’d want to try him out.

A/N: This is an office AU basically from this post. Yep, it’s all a setup for that joke.

[Dean x Reader. Characters: Dean, Reader, OFC, OMC Words: 3,771. Warnings: a couple of bad words, an office sleazeball and the IT team are called nerds. Sorry IT people of the world.]

Ao3 link if you prefer. Series Masterlist

Your dumb crush had only lasted three days, at most four. You were better than that, a professional, you’d been called wonder woman in more than one meeting. You didn't have crushes on co-workers and especially not employees. You definitely didn’t have a crush on your own executive assistant.

Because you were over it.

You could call his name now without feeling flustered. You could listen to his run downs without getting distracted watching his lips form out words. And you could certainly take your coffee from him without getting goosebumps when his fingers ghosted over yours.

Because. You. Were. Over. It.

There were bigger fish to fry anyway. The stock shortages were hitting stores, hard, which meant that your area sales managers were dealing with a myriad of disgruntled sales associates. All of which meant only a few weeks into Q3 and things weren’t looking good for the next few months. You were stressed and your people were stressed and the heated emotions being exchanged throughout the business were putting everyone on the edge of their seat. It would have been no surprise if one of the senior team had a mental breakdown within the month.

You look up to the knock at your door and plaster a smile on your worried face as best you can, “Dean?”

It’s the middle of summer in New York so you’re not cruel enough to expect him to wear a jacket but the shirt he’s wearing today is an absolute joke. You may have to send him home. It’s so fitted. You swear the moment he puts your drink down in front of you the seam is going to burst from the built-up tension in his bulging bice- nope. Not thinking about that.

“Thanks,” you say with a still forced smile as he starts reading messages from the tablet you’d made him switch to. No assistant of yours was going to kill as many trees as he seemed intent on doing with those yellow notepads.

Halfway through a message from Sabina about the situation in the flagship store and you take a sip of your drink unable to hold back the shudder.

“She says that it’s getting, her word, dire and- sorry, is everything ok?”

Who knows what your face looks like for him to stop mid-message but you find yourself looking up into those emerald eyes and shaking your head to clear the fog, “what?”

“Your drink, is everything ok with it?” He clarifies in a serious tone like it’s the end of the world.

Although your head is still shaking ‘no’, your mouth betrays you as it often does, “I wanted iced tea, not cucumber water. But it’s fine, I’ll drink it. Continue.”

He scowls and it should elicit a reaction of frustration in you. He’s your assistant and he’s scowling at you. He’s only been here three weeks. You should remind him that he’s your assistant. Just like you should also tell him he messed up and insist he fixes it. Not these excuses you’re making. You do none of that. Instead, you notice how his lips pucker and his jaw tightens. Suddenly he puts down his tablet at the end of your desk and picks up the drink from the table, in what would be a snatch were your hands still wrapped around it.

“No. I’ll get you an iced tea.”

He storms out of your office and honestly, you’re not sure what to think. Was he mad at you? He’s the one that made the wrong drink.

He’s a fucking idiot. He’d spent a week reading that dumb PDF, memorizing the stupid thing. She likes ice water on days when it’s 86 or above outside, except in July. She drinks iced tea all of July no matter what. There was some stupid reason but he’s forgotten that as well.

And she was going easy on him for some reason and he hated that too. She’d pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes like it was acid she was drinking but she’d tried to pass it off as nothing. He knew she was crazy but why was she trying to be less crazy for him? Did she not expect him to get things right? Did she already have that low of an opinion of him?

He knew he shouldn’t have reacted like he did but he wanted to prove to her he could do this job and he’d messed up one of the simplest things. Her dumb drink.

Donny tries to talk to him while he’s fixing the new beverage for her but Dean brushes it off. Especially when Donny hisses sympathetically, “you forgot it’s July, huh?”

Did everyone know that July meant iced tea?

When he returns back to her office she’s sitting there reading from his tablet curiously.

He holds a hand out for it once he’s put the new drink in front of her, “Here’s your tea, I’ll get back to-“

“Dean where did this come from?” she interrupts with a finger pointing to some notes he’d written down.

He looks at the words in question as she holds the device out. He’d been talking to Sabina at the time, or he supposes you could call it flirting, he’s good at flirting. Sabina had been going on about the fifth avenue store like it’s on been robbed and he'd been faking sympathy as he’d had an idea, so he’d written it down.

Course, he hadn't expected her to see it and have her finger trailing over the words asking him about it.

“I just had an idea while I was on the phone. Most people are expecting sales to hit in August, but I thought what if we started ours early, beat everyone else to it kind of thing. It was just an idea, I wasn’t expecting you to see it.”

She looks at him like he’s a genius and the glow on her face is enough to make him think he just might be.

“Dean, I need you to get me someone from Finance, not Mark, asap. And call Sabina back and conference her in. I think you might be on to something.” Clearly, she’d been thinking while he’s been out of the room and he can feel the energy spark off of her. It’s a little bit inspiring to see her mind racing turning it into something.

He can feel the tips of his ears turn pink but he thinks it’s because of the how excited she is, nothing to do with her enthusiasm for his idea. He hasn’t seen her this excited in… ever. And yes he’s only been here three weeks now but people should be excited more than once a month.

He takes his tablet back but doesn’t look at it as he nods at her and leaves to take the elevator straight down to the tenth floor. Sure he could have called but she wanted to see someone from Finance asap and nobody turned down Dean Winchester when he showed up at your desk.

Sabina loved the idea. Marketing and VM would be pissed since they’d have to rush through the promo materials but with the mid-August sale starting in three weeks, it shouldn’t really be more than getting the printers to express the order for one store. They wouldn’t normally trial it in the fifth avenue store of all places but at this point, why the hell not? They needed to do something. Go big or go home.

Ellen, Mark’s second in command in Finance, had put together a rough projection in your office and concluded that with the way figures were right now even if the sale bombed it still wouldn’t put too big a dent at the end of year numbers.

You asked Sabina to hold fire announcing this, you’d need to pitch it to Michael first.

That was a whole new problem in of itself.

It’s not that you thought Michael was a sexist pig, it’s just you knew Michael. And the Director of Sales and Marketing would be much more inclined to listen to you if you freshened up first. No matter how awful it made feel to conform to his feminine ideals.

Once you’d dismissed everyone you did something you rarely ever did in your beautiful glass office, you closed the blinds. All the better to hide your shame as you spritzed on some more perfume, took your hair out of its ponytail, giving it a flip, and touched up your lipstick. You had numbers obviously. You had Ellen’s numbers and your own impossible to resist sales charm, it’s not like you would ever do anything. It’s just, Michael liked women to look a certain way and like it or not he was still your boss. Wrapping your proposal up in the proper packaging would only further serve your cause.

Nobody batted an eyelid when you left. They were all used to this and some of the women in your team had done this themselves. It was just common knowledge. Michael, for all his business acumen, was a creep.

At least nobody batted an eyelid, except Dean. If you thought you’d seen a scowl earlier in the day then what you were seeing right now was pure anger. Anger that he was not hiding well. His fingers, after pausing over the keyboard at first sight of you, resumed typing with thunderous clacks of the keys that muted the sound of your heels over the hard floors. And his eyes followed you from your office to the elevator so intensely that you could feel them on you even as the heavy doors closed behind you.

You were used to some amount of shame whenever you had to this. Some small amount of nagging guilt for letting down women everywhere but you normally managed to convince yourself it was for the greater good. Ever since you’d been VP you’d done nothing but elevate your team, including women. Maddy was a perfect example of that, under anyone else she’d still be making coffee and booking cabs. It was only today, standing in the quiet elevator with your laptop under your arm, that you felt dirty in a way that you knew wouldn’t scrub off.

There was no time to dwell though because the doors opened and you were met with Jo’s warm face. She brightened at seeing you and welcomed you before you’d even made it to her desk, “Miss Y/L/N, always a pleasure to see you up here. Although I know you don’t have an appointment.” She grinned in a way that made her look innocent and childish.

“When do I ever come to visit with something as arbitrary as an appointment? Besides I have something brilliant for him, he’ll want to see me.”

She nodded to the sofa opposite her and picked up the phone. Unlike yours, Michael’s office was all thick walls and privacy, which made this so much worse. You instinctively went to bite your lip to ignore the creeping nerves before remembering that freshly applied lipstick. Shaking off the habit you opened your laptop and started pulling your documents up, the quicker you had him convinced the quicker you could leave.

“He said he would love to see his favorite VP.” Jo cheered as she put the phone down.

God, why did everything about this feel one hundred times more hideous today?

Fixing your smile you picked up your laptop from your knees and walked into the lion's den.

“Y/N! Always a pleasure, how is everything down in sales?”

You tried to keep your tone light but there was an undercurrent of sarcasm you couldn’t hide as you sat down opposite him. Unfortunately, you knew he loved it the bite in your words, “you mean since we had our roundtable yesterday morning? Still not great sir.”

Sir. There it was. That twinkle in his eye. All of the VP’s called him sir. It was the way things worked around here. But all of the other VP’s were men so none of them lured that smirk out of him when they said it.

“Hmm.” The sound was more like a moan than a confirmation and you fought to ignore it as he continued. “That is a shame. So, what is it you’ve come to see me about? Not that I mind the visit.”

“Well, actually I think we have an idea to trial that could potentially make a huge difference this quarter.”

You spun your laptop to face him and leaned forward over the desk. So engrossed in your explanation that you didn’t catch the way he looked at your chest as it was barely pushed against the tabletop. You launched into your work until he was finally looking at your face, clinging to your every word. You were impassioned and it showed. Once you were past the numbers you sat back, animated, hands flying about as you explained. This idea was nothing if you didn’t act quickly, you’d get VM and Marketing onside and you’d go to fifth and launch the sale yourself on Monday. You’d talk to Charlie in Digital and get her to co-launch an exclusive online sale for a double boost. If it worked it could be huge, the first store in the shopping district. The competition would be thrown. You’d never done it before but you needed all you needed from Michael was a yes to make it happen.

When you finished you were actually panting a little, your chest heaving from not having taken enough breaths, so you took a deep one to steady yourself as he leaned back in his chair. His signature mulling it over move. Nobody had the heart to tell him it made him look like a Mr. Burns wannabe. That wasn’t exactly something you told the boss. But Michael was smart, that’s how he was sitting in that seat in the first place, and he knew you were smart. He knew this was a good idea or you wouldn’t have brought it to him.

You knew you were going to get the ‘yes’ you just didn’t know how long he’d torture you before he gave it.

“It’s interesting…” He began. Oh ok. A little torture at least.

“It’s all we’ve got sir. I’m not playing the blame game but it’s obvious that Supply Chain issues are hitting hard and sales are what bring in this companies revenue. With this idea, we deplete stock in fifth, sure, but that store is sitting on the biggest stockpile anyway. This is a chance to get rid of all those nonmoving discontinued items before customers have a chance to spend their money anywhere else. Fifth clears some of their shelves ready for when Ops finally can deliver newness into them. Plus we’ll put on a promotion, make a sale purchase and get 10% off in September. We’ll have new stock by then and returning foot traffic. Sets us in good steed in our flagship store ready for the Holidays.”

By God, you were good.

He smirked, he knew you were too. He gets up from his desk faster than you anticipated him moving and did the dreaded, sit on the edge of his desk inches in front of you thing. Not at all inappropriate or weird to have your bosses crotch in front of your face while you look up at him from your chair.

“Obviously, I’m going to say yes. I’m not stupid enough not to.”

The sigh of relief that comes out of you shakes your entire body as you stand up, putting yourself at his height as he continues to lean.

“I know you’re confident about this Y/N but you need to be prepared if this goes wrong. Someone needs to be the fall guy here in case this bites us in the ass. This is our biggest store, as well as online, that you’re playing with.”

It’s a moment of sincerity you don’t often get from Michael. He maintains a strict facade with everyone in the weekly roundtables. It’s a warning obviously, but it’s still sincerity. Maybe that’s why your voice is soft and honest when you answer him.

“I know sir. This is all on me.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so mad. Nobody else seems in the slightest bit interested in what just happened and she’s all of their bosses too. He’d had a weird moment of worry when all the blinds in her office closed but then to see her come out and looking like that? She didn’t need to do that. She shouldn’t have to do that. He’d seen how peppy the idea had made her, like a goddam puppy. He’d given her one little sentence and she’d turned it into this whole plan backed up by numbers and arguments he hadn’t even thought of, she could sell it without reducing herself to… that.

But nobody else cared. If anything they seemed more concerned with the way he sat there grinding his teeth and typing loudly enough that everyone could hear each letter. None of them are stupid enough to ask him what’s wrong though.

It’s thirty grueling minutes before she comes back. Her cheeks are flushed and he hopes, he fucking hopes, it’s just relief. Surely she wouldn’t be smiling that wide if it was anything else. He may have only known her three weeks but she didn’t seem like she wanted to get ahead the sleazy way.

He can’t explain it but he can’t look at her again as she walks back to her office. Even as she stops on her way past and asks him to call Charlie and see if she’s free in an hour. He just nods, because he doesn’t know what will come out if he opens his mouth. He squints at his computer like he’s looking for the number, which he is looking for the number but he doesn’t normally exaggeratedly squint while he’s looking.

She doesn’t linger and her blinds open again as soon as she’s back in her sanctuary. The iced tea he made her is half drunk, ice melted now, but she sips it like it’s fresh from the fridge. Although he hadn’t made eye contact he does watch her on the edge of his vision for a few minutes. He watches the way she picks up the phone to someone and her face lights up as she chatters away. Maybe he’s only watching her because she’s still got her hair down around her face, he hasn’t seen that and it suits her. That’s it. He’s just distracted by the different look.

Distracted and still hoping it’s not what he thought.

Charlie’s assistant confirms she can fit her in at 2:45. Which scares him because it seems like a big enough day that it should already be nearing quitting time. Not that he has a quitting time, he quits when she does.

“Dean?”

That’s his cue. He wanders into your office and notices the still lingering smell of perfume that had wafted by him when you’d gone upstairs. It takes all his will not to let it set him off again. “Yes, Miss Y/L/N.”

He can tell she’s in a good mood because she insists, “please Y/N.” The few times in the past when she’s been frustrated she lets him call her by her last name without issue. “Anyway. We got the go ahead so I’ve got a hectic few days coming up. Did you check in with Charlie?”

“Yes, she can see you in forty-five.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “of course she can. Can’t be away from her super nerds,” if she notices the way his eyes bulge as she talks about the Digital team, she doesn’t falter. “She’s going to make me go to her. That’s fine. Ok, so I’ve sent him an email but I also need you to check in with Gabe while I’m talking to Charlie. I need marketing to cover the costs to expedite the promo materials, I will if we absolutely have to but really that’s their song and dance. I need you to block out my calendar for all of Monday morning until noon, I’ll be with Sabina in store launching the sale to the public. I’ll need the car to pick me up after. Also, I’ll be in store for a few hours on Sunday holding a team meeting with the sales associates. I know I have nothing booked but can you block out Sunday as well just in case someone tries to sneak something in.”

If he didn’t know any better she’d said that all on one breath but it’s so fluid that it’s hard to tell. He got the bullet points anyway, the direct orders and that’ll be enough. He’s so busy keeping up that he doesn’t even smile when she mentions blocking out Sunday. She’s the only one crazy enough to consider working then, nobody else will be ‘sneaking anything in’.

When she notices him stop typing he doesn’t have time to lift his head before she starts up again. Apparently, she only stopped for his benefit.

“Can you get me a new iced tea, please. And a menu for that ramen place in the village that I like. Oh, and are there any burning messages that need my attention?”

He holds back the groan that they’ll be having dinner here tonight. He’d had a date with that cute blonde from the coffee place a few blocks down and maybe he can push it back but that depends what time Y/N decides to leave. If there’s one thing he’s sure of it’s that he's in desperate need of getting some. But he puts it aside, rule number five hundred and something in the Y/N handbook, she’ll let you know by mid-afternoon if she's staying for dinner by asking for a menu.

“Nothing more important than what you’re working on. Just a message from Terry about his figures this week, a few meeting requests for next week, we can go over those later, and a message from Maddy for you to call her.”

He sees her perk up again at the last one and it curls the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the nearly empty glass and leaves.

When he gets back with the drink she’s laughing all free and easy but she spares a mouthed ‘thank you’ and a big smile for him as he sets the glass down.

Dean goes back to his desk to start blocking out her diary when he remembers that he was angry about something earlier.

Continue to Chapter Three

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 11

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 301: Up at 1pm after a good few bevvies last night. usual Saturday stuff but my walk was astop/start affair due to yet more flooding. 

Facebook today informed me that Karen Wyles died suddenly. It really shocked me. I saw Guy and Gail while out walking (nice to bump into them and chat) and they told me it was a heart attack! I sent K a WhatsApp just in case she’d not heard. I put a few words on FB. I had known Karen for a long time and, while I took the piss a lot, she was a friend (that I often didn’t deserve) and a good person....I felt a responsibility to say something nice as a small homage.

During the week I ordered new boots (since my Merrells are fucked after only  few months but I am getting my money back) and, today, I also ordered McKenzie Attwood trainers (£20 cheap as fuck from JD Sports sale), slippers and jogging bottoms from Amazon. 

Now I am going to have pizza, drink, smoke and watch The Equalizer 2 (for the umpteenth time - I watched the first one last night). I could watch Tenet - Miles has given me his Amazon login details, which is pretty fucking cool of him, but I’m not in the mood.

Posh beat MK 3-0 at home. I fucking love beating them. It’s extremely satisfying.

Right, it’s Saturday, it’s nearly 9pm, time I got on it.

Day 302: Not the most mental night last night but still 4am-ish when I went to bed, so I am very pleased to type that I was up before my alarm this morning. But, also, as I type, at gone 10pm, I am fucking knackered. Just about to tuck into spicy-as-fuck sauasage casserole, wtach MotD2 and then bed!

Day 303: Slippers arrived today but they’re going back. Too tight in the left foot. I’m not wearing slippers in FFS!

Day 304: New trainers (McKenzie Attwoods) arrived. Now, this footwear I shall keep. £20, bargain.

Posh came from a goal down to beat Charlton at home 2-1. Nice.

I made some veg soup today and, quite frankly, it’s fucking stupidly chilli-fied. Barely edible.

Day 305: New trainers are sweet - wore them for my morning exercise routine. Pretty comfy - after a few wears, they’ll be ace, I think.

Got served notice on the house on Monday (why I didn’t enter that on day 303, I do not know). Lynda, from Woodfords, says a semi-detached place in Havelock Cottages is coming up that looks promising. I contacted Emily at Aspire today, there’s a two bed terrace in Basset Place coming up so i am looking at that on Monday. Choice of 2 I do hope! First is £700 pm, second £725.

Day 306: Flipping frustrating “nothing works” day at work, It’s been like it all year so far. Tbf, Sueanne gets it and is quite supportive, even though she dives in when I’ve been dealing with problems that drag on! It’s Thursday, I can’t wait for tomorrow and, I am all to aware, I am wishing what little life I have left away.

Spoke with dad, he had his first vaccination jab on Tuesday in Spalding - he said it was a very efficient process (he was full of praise) and that the jab itself was no bother, with no after effects apart from a slightly sore arm. Excellent!

Day 307: Not even one beer (Saporro) in, and I feel wasted. A toke has helped.

Day 308: New Scarpa boots arrived today and, while they will need some wearing in, I did the stair climb and a 45min walk in them. I think they are going to be ace. Just as well as the Merrells are falling apart.

I have decided to listen to the Rush back catalogue, 2112 (4th) is playing as I type. It’s been a trip down memory lane and a bloody good one!

I had a few beers last night, as yesterday’s entry confirms, which included a video catch up with Fog, Ham and Andy P. Gonna chat with Fog later tonight as well.

I watched King of Statten Island last night. I liked it but, in some parts, it was smultzy as hell, rendering it a 6/10. Later, I’m watching Outside the Wire and eating pizza. Can’t wait!

I reset my mobile yesterday ‘cos it’s been playing up. What a fucking ball ache, logging on to all the different apps, all the little settings you get so used to, only to miss them when set back to defaults. Things like the camera settings - photo size and watermark....ooooh, just realised, ‘first world problems’! Get a grip, Tim!

Day 309: SNOW! Thick and crisp and uneven. I walked 11.9km in it today and it fucking well knackered me out. The old Merrells held their own in the snow as well, totally waterproof and, for such a light boot, remarkably warm. I will actually be sorry to see them go.

Danny sent me a link to a free week’s worth of receipes from Hello Fresh (he’s nuts for it) so I and ordered one, worth nearly £40! 

Posh won away from home yesterday at Ipswich. Now, get this: the stats on the BBC’s report showed Posh had no shots on target but still won 0-1. How, might one ask? Own goal, that’s how. Piss funny!

Day 310: I am aching today. Walking in the snow yesterday certainly exercised different muscles than walking in mud. And, today, I walked less than normal, usual lunchtime but only 4km (instead of 8) in the evening. 

‘Cos of the snow, the woman from Aspire cried off showing me around 3 Bassett Place. At first I was well pissed off but, looking at the roads and traffic situation around Oundle, it was the right decision (she’d have had to get here from Nassington - a bit treacherous),

It’s just gone 8pm. I am going to eat and go to bed. It’s too fucking cold even with the heating on!

Day 311: Rearranged the viewing of Bassett Place tomorrow - I rang them ‘cos I saw it advertised on Facebook, FFS! My walk tonight was mad...melting snow, rain/sleet, ice made for fucking hard work. Plus, since I am wearing in the new Scarpas, I wore the Merrells. The right boot is now, most definitely not waterproof! Got home about 8pm, changed bed sheets, showered and made diner...bloody knackered. It’s now 11pm and I am off to beddy byes.

Day 312: Viewed Bassett Place and I really like it. It is advertised at £750pm but Emily (from Aspire) said it was £725. Sarah, who showed me round said there may be some leeway for the right tenant so i’ve asked if it could be done for £700. If so, I’ll take it. It’s a large two bed mid terrace, bigger than here (36, East Road), similar type place, just what I want. Fingers crossed.

Day 313: Having slept on it, I do believe I definitely want 3 Bassett Place. I phone Sarah at Apsire to say as much. She told me she’d forwarded my details and offer to the landlord and is waiting to hear. As yesterday, fingers crossed.

I couldn’t take the pic of the field for the Morning Walk album, too flooded due to melting snow. On that note, my new boots are getting worn in both by wear and by superficial looks, it’s that filthy out there. I need to clean them. I wonder that, if I’d cleaned the Merrells, they might have lasted a bit longer. That being said, no amount of cleaning would have save the soles from wearing as thin as quickly as they did.

Day 314: Typing on Day 315. I didn’t get Bassett Place, the landlord gave it to a couple who offerred full asking price. To say I was fucked off is an understatement. I phoned Emily to let her know as much. Tbf, she explained that the snow (delaying my original viewing) wasn’t her fault and that she is at the mercy of the landlord. Fair enough, when I heard her POV. But, I am still gutted. I should have gone for the full £750!

Glad the working week is over (I am really wishing my life away so far this year).

Long walk to Cotterstock - amazing light behind the clouds with a wolf moon (which I just looked up - full moon, basically) - I just wish I was a bit better at night photography, or at least the camera on the Mi9 was. However, once I tweak them a bit and post them, the feed back is usually good. In fact, I posted one on the move last night and someone on FB has asked if they can paint it!

Meatballs for tea and beers.

I have decided, when the year of this log is up, that I’ll end it (the diary, not my life, though that dark thought is never far away!). I have reached this decision because, while this diary is really only for me, it is as boring as fuck, really. I’ll continue to write a log but randomly, when the day’s events warrant it. It’ll be on the main Tumblr.

Day 315: Typing this on day 316. Up at 1pm-ish. Morning exercise routine, long walk curtailed by flooding (again!) more beers, smokes and trash food. Posh lost 2-0 away to Shrewsbury (a bit of a bogey team).

Day 316: Up at 1pm yet again. I really didn't feel like any exercise but I did the usual regardless. Google Fit isn’t fucking working!

I have got to start stopping these ridiculously late Friday and Saturday nights. My weekend is over before it’s begun. This coming Friday, I am not going to do the really long walk in the evening that i have become accustomed to - just a 8km one that I do most evening, and then start drinking earlier so as to go to bed early. If I can get out of bed in the Saturday morning, perhaps do a couple of long walks so as to get the weekly steps up.

Day 317: My left foot, during my lunchtime walk, killed. I must have sopped and undone & redone my laces 6 times. Dunno wtf is going on with the Scarpas. I wore my Merrells for the evening walk. I tried to got to Cotterstock but it was too flooded on the road just before the bridge!

Ordered new joggers, a boot brush and some new wireless earbuds (Mifo 05 plus Gen 2 - bought them off eBay -I hope they are the real deal, it’s the very latest spec and £74.99 instead of £89.99 from the Mifo website).

Day 318: I went shopping at 10.15pm mainly for pizza and party food since I have booked Monday off because it’s the Superbowl (Tampa vs Kansas) and booze! No fucking Sapporo. It was eerie shopping that late at the superstore in Corby. Boots still hurting (Merrells in the evening). Day 319: New ear buds arrived. Well impressed. So did the boot brush (BootBuddy) - on that note, boots weren’t so bad at lunchtime. I didn’t wear them in the evening but I think it’s just a ‘wearing them in’ thing, hopefully.

Day 320: Hello Fresh delivery day. I had pork and chipotle black bean tacos with pickled red onion, chipotle tomatoes and lettuce. It’s a good set up, decent ingredients and nice recipe sheets...but I don't need it, I’m good enough in the kitchen. And, I am no fan of minced pork. I am not being a fair judge though. Today, my sugars have been all over the place over 21 and under 2 mmol/L. I nearly fell asleep trying to recover from a low before my evening walk. When I got back (soaked - it was pissing down), I was over 21 by the time I had cooked it all....puts me off actually eating, even though I have to! Rang Barry Haddon today, to see how he is. I think he’s OK but, strangely, told me, during conversation, that he’s 77 years old. I don't think so! I also texted Posh Dave. I think he’s struggling being on his own (he lost mum and dad last year, I think). I must make more contact with him. I might call him over the weekend.

Day 321: Typing on Day 322 (well, 1am on day 323 actually). It was nice finishing work knowing I have Monday off. I also din’t do an extra long walk this evening as with most Fridays. Cooked the send Hello fresk meal, Mango chicken tacos -diced chicken thighs - it was alright. Rog video called so had a good chat with him and I invited Foggy to it (he was at his cousin John’s funeral today), so the three of us chewed the cud for a bit. I then went onto get fucking shitfaced. I couldn’t make it to bed with low sugars, lying on the runner rug, fell asleep, got up and could only make it top the living room rug..I felt so dodgy but I was too fucked and too full to even take more than a swig of coke. I think I’m going to fall asleep one drunken night, slip into a coma and then die. I can think of worse ways to go. Day 322: Typing  very late, it’s actually Sunday morning, 1.07am. I got out of bed at gone 2.30pm today. I managed my morning routine and a 8km walk (in the Scarpas, they are getting more comfortable since my episode of pain a few days ago; definitely a wearing in process). No booze after last night’s debacle. I am going to hit it during the Superbowl tomorrow though. The Hello fresh meal tonight was pasta chicken bake with pepper and courgette. Fucking lovely and I coudln’t eat it all. I’ve lerant that adding creme fresh to pasta, whacking it on top of meat and sauce on a casserole bowl and baking it for 15 minutes is the way to go. I watched The Dig tonight. It’s a good film but fucking glum. Posh won at home to Crewe today, 2-0. They are now 4th. Day 323:Bright as a button today, up at around 11:00am despite switch in the bedroom light off at just before 3am. Today’s walk was fucking hard work. It’s wintry, the wind was keen, strong and full of icy particles just not quite sleet. The fields between Park Wood and Monson Way were bloody tough. One wrong foot and you’d slip over. I did about 10 km; it took over 2 hours and felt like twice the distance.  I’ve just eaten Hello Fresk teryaki mince. It was good. One beer in, a film (probably One Night in Miami) and then Superbowl time. Day 324: The Superbowl was good. Tampa beat Kansas 31-9. The second half was a damp squib since Kansas never made a go of it. Tom Brady won his 7th ring. He is to American football what Federer is to tennis. The Weeknd half time show was excellent. So, it was about 4am I went to bed, nicely pissed. Up at just after 1pm. Exercise, omelette, long walk, done some washing. About to make the last Hello Fresh meal and watch One Night in Miami which I didn’t manage last night.   Richard sent me a message (screen shot of a) house up for shared ownership in Oundle (Sharmann & Quinney) - I need to look into what that is all about.

Day 325: Shared ownership isn’t straightforward and, actually, I have discovered that I need to look at something call ‘older persons shared ownership’ when I hit 55. Jon at work wants me to get involved in two additional pieces of work, he told me at the SUMO today (Sueanne is off) - he did say that “that’s what happens if you have a day off! Finished the last of the Hello Fresh (last night’s sausage bolognese including homemade garlic bread using a Tiger loaf from Co-Op which was reduced to 28p. I didn’t watch One Night in Miami last night. Shock. Day 326: I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords yesterday, viewing 13 Havelock Cottages tomorrow. Also, yesterday, Posh beat Ipswich 2-1 at home. They came from behind. Ipswich have never beaten Posh away. Simon Banwell posted on FB berating some new legislation whereby potentially people who travel and lie about it (the destination) are liable for 10 years in prison. His gripe is people get less for murder. I am beyond words...the potential for mass deaths of such actions! I tried to argue that case but it is, as always on social media, flogging a dead horse. Rachel Harris jumped on Simon’s bandwagon whereas Tim Francis posted a ‘well said’ to me (I think it’s genuine). Day 327: Carrying on directly from above; Candice Bellingsea, Rachel’s niece, Carla’s daughter, was also ‘vocal’ in defence of Simon’s post, joining in with the clamour for relaxation of lockdown (at the expense of safety) - citing more people commit suicide because of the mental pressure than die of covid. Well, today, I investigated and posted a FB status to poo-poo such claims. It felt good (and right) to address Candice’s ridiculous post albeit, I didn’t call her out directly but did have part of her comment on Simon’s post directly quoted in my status. I went to see 13 Havelock today. It’s OK. Not perfect but more than alright. When I left there I was very much in two minds but now, at 10:30pm, the place is growing on me. Still part of me thinks to hold out - I have got around 5 month’s notice left - but, if I let it go (and Lynda from Woodford’s has already said the landlord is happy for me to move in), I might regret it. I keep thinking of 3 Bassett Place though...if only I had said yes to £750 straightaway. That place would be perfect, I reckon. One major concern with 13 is the neighbours. There’s no way I could have my usual Friday and Saturday night revelry. But...I’ll sleep on it. I have only just finished doing some work - pissing about with Smartview Essbase (with Simon Welch’s help - he’s a bloody good bloke - no need to be so helpful, but he’s more than happy to be) - I sent him a Teams message to arrange a catch up tomorrow with some questions I have regarding the installation - he only bloody answered - working as late as I am! I have managed to watch some of One Night in Miami. Going to finish it now with a dirty, microwave hamburger for tea.

Day 328: Typing on day 329. Usual Friday but not so mad in the evening. One Night in Miami was good. For Friday’s viewing I chose Greenland. Not so good. Only 4 beers and two spliffs. I’m getting old! Day329: Up at 1pm, usual exercise including a long old walk. It included walking along the river (Oundle Mill bridge to the marina) for the fist time this year. The floods are in evidence but, obviously, receded enough to get through - that, or the resulting water, mud and boginess is frozen. I really enjoyed it today but it was freezing - the wind was evil at certain points. Tea’s on the go, beer in hand and I am going to watch War Dogs.  Posh’s game was off today due to a frozen pitch. Day 330: Typing on day 331. It wasn’t a mad Saturday night but mad enough to not be up until gone midday. Another nice long walk, Walk and eat is all I really do nowadays. I can’t even muster any enthusiasm to do housework since I am going to be out of here soon. I called Posh Dave in the evening. It was good to chat and I think he appreciated the call. He’s on his own and struggling, I get the impression. He told me both Matt Baxter (bowel) and Adi Mowles (neck) are undergoing treatment for cancer.

[segadores-y-soldados]

Personal and Fic Updates

Hey everyone!

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve done one of these personal update messages.  I’m trying to get my stuff in order but life continues to outpace me, it seems.

The quick and dirty: Fic Stuff:

Moira has been integrated into the overarching plot of “And Overwatch For All”

Because of this, I am currently rewriting major portions of Old Habits.  Yesterday, I finished a major rewrite of chapter 10 (the “evil council is introduce” chapter).  I have the majority of chapter 11′s rewrite done and hope to finish that today as well.  With luck, I will start working on a rewrite of Chapter 13.

Shockingly, I’m keeping a lot of the “present day” plot elements the same (aka, all the stuff leading up to Recall).  But several major “past events” have changed, including Reaper/Gabriel’s backstory.

More on this later.  I will also be writing a separate post JUST for fic stuff, if you prefer to read only that.

Personal Stuff:

Extra expenses have started showing up in my life.  Details are under the cut.

My job has not yet promoted me and a coworker the way they said they would in the timeframe they gave us (1 year).  Because of this, I am starting the job hunt again.

I have created a Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/U7U063ZJ)

More under the cut

Alright, so here’s the longer version of what my last like...three months have been like, with both personal/work stuff and fandom stuff.

Personal life/Work:

I have said this in a few places, but I currently work as an entry-level archaeologist for a state department in California.  Full disclosure: I and my fellow coworker are underpaid for our work, which is as variable as conducting documentation research through databases and organizing research on behalf of our higher-level archaeologist and historian supervisors to performing surveys and actual fieldwork digs in every type of weathers in California.  As an example, two weeks ago (the week of Thanksgiving here in the U.S.), myself and one of my supervisors did an 8 hour fieldwork day which consisted of 3-4 hours of surveying through waist-high grass in pouring rain at 55 degrees F/12 degrees C.  This upcoming week, I and (other underpaid) coworker will be doing two 12-hour days of construction monitoring.  Our work consists of traveling all over the state, with driving that can take a full day to get to a work destination (these are charged to work, don’t worry - I don’t have to pay for that, thank god).

The reason I’m explaining this is because this is a huge reason why some days (or even some weeks) my activity on tumblr, twitter, and AO3 will take a straight nosedive.  On Thursday of this past week, I spent 8-10 hours without checking my phone and came home to 4 missed calls, 8 “active chats” on messenger, 600 messages on discord, and basically a whole day of “social media-ing” missed out.  

If you’re rolling your eyes over this, I get it, I really do - it sounds like all the stuff that older people complain millennials “overvalue,” but (for example) one of those phone calls was from my dentist’s office saying that they will not serve me because (after three months of them NOT checking) they realized that I don’t have the right dental insurance for them.

Fun.

I don’t make enough money to switch to higher, “better services” health and dental insurance, but since I work a job that requires physical labor, I’m scared to cut them from my life.  Said coworker twisted his ankle earlier this year, and work only compensated him for 1 week of “missed” work, when in reality he was walking with a slight limp for 2-3 weeks.  Because of our low-level, we are not given access to benefits that many other state workers get.

Moreover, our sub-department has been promising that the two of us would get promoted “within the year.”  We reached a year working with them in mid-November, and that promise still hasn’t been reached.

So in terms of my personal life, I’m at a cross-roads: I will tell them that they need to promote us, even to the next “low-level position” because that will give us just a few more $/hour which will help A LOT when accumulated, or I’m going to tell them that I’ll have to search for something else.

On top of this, my parents have decided it’s time for me to “pay rent” to live at home with them - a discussion we, frankly, haven’t had on a serious level yet and one which blindsided me this morning.  I am looking into my options but without a better job, they’re not good.

This also doesn’t cover whatever it will take to help me start the legal and medical processes of transitioning, which are, frankly, the main things I’ve been saving money for.

What does this mean:

I’m looking for places to cut costs, but the combination of current expenses + what my parents want from me will take 1/3 to 1/2 of my current monthly paycheck.  I already spend next to nothing on personal stuff, so all my current expenses are “necessities” such as food, gas, and insurance.  I’m looking to cut down on gas costs but it may be awhile before my daily schedule gets adjusted.

The alternate is taking a second job that will permit me to only work my free three days a week.

Doing this means I will have zero time to write or produce content.

For now, I’m not jumping out to do that.  I’ve made a Ko-Fi account (https://ko-fi.com/U7U063ZJ) that I would greatly appreciate any spare money you’re willing to contribute.  Something as simple as a few dollars can go to me covering the cost of my health insurance per month, while I figure out the bigger problems of searching for a job.

The reason why I started with this is because:

Fic Stuff/Writing Stuff:

I do the equivalent of 3-4 full days of “writing” for fandom stuff per week: on my days off, I can write anywhere from 8 to 14 hours a day.  Using just Friday and yesterday as an example, I wrote 9k words, and with whatever I do today, I will likely push that to about 11-12k.

Yes, it is all voluntary, and I do not have to write at the pace that I do, nor the amount that I do.  I do it because I enjoy it, and because, honestly, writing for Overwatch has given me some of the biggest joys and happiness I have felt in like, a decade.  And that includes writing the long essays.  My last big R76 post (http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/167321630835/everything-you-want-to-know-about-reaper-and) spans a whopping 67 pages and 7.5k words in Google Docs (that includes pictures and sources/credits/links/references).

Again, this isn’t to brag, but just to put my writing into perspective, I guess.  This is the equivalent of doing a second part-time job, which was something I attempted last year but was unable to balance my current archaeology job + a part-time retail job + writing.  I dropped the second one because, at the time, I finally had the luxury to choose a job in my profession and writing on the side.  This is a luxury I was fortunate to enjoy for the first half of 2017, but it is steadily becoming undoable as my work increases my responsibilities without increasing my pay.

Fic Updates:

For those of your who have been waiting patiently for information on “And Overwatch for All” I do have some good news that I’m finally ready to share:

Moira has been integrated into the plot.

I got a number of comments here and on twitter that were really supportive of my current version of “AOFA” and I just want to say, thank you all so much.  It means a lot to me that you guys have liked the version of Overwatch I’ve built up and that you found all the characters, including my silly OCs, to be engaging and well-written.  It was soul-crushing to think I would have to lose some of them, but after some time and doing more research on Moira, I feel ready to talk more about her and how she’s going to factor into the updated plot.

To start off with:

None of the OCs will be cut, but some of their roles will change.

Lmao, this surprised me as well, but I’ve figured out a few different ways to make all of the OCs, especially the very obviously contrived “Death Agents,” stick around in the updated plot.

Only one OC (and you can probably guess who, if you’ve started “New Wars”) will change names: the character called “Reaper” in “New Wars Chapter 1″ (the “young Hanzo chapter”) will be called “Reaver.”  This is due to his updated role in the plot.  His background has changed only slightly.

If it wasn’t apparent, this “Reaper” was meant to act as a plot device to cause confusion over Gabriel/Reaper’s actions after the fall of Overwatch, but that has changed because:

I’m switching to Crisis-era and “undercover mercenary” Reaper.

If you’ve read some of my more recent posts on Moira, you’ll know that I’ve switched over to supporting the idea that “something went wrong with Gabriel Reyes during SEP/the Crisis.”  This is due to the fact that you can find a folder labeled “Soldier ID: 24″ in Moira’s Oasis lab, that Michael Chu said that Reyes was interested in getting her help on “matters of genetics,” and that this appears to mesh the “Reaper has existed for decades” concept in Reaper’s hero profile.

Truth be told, I’ve actually been a supporter of this idea of “Gabriel has been Reaper behind the scenes for decades” plot point for a long, long time, almost as long as I’ve been posting Old Habits.  “Reaper”/“Reaver” was semi-messy OC that attempted to bridge Reaper’s original hero profile with the “Old Soldiers” explanation that Gabriel/Reaper gave that “Jack and Overwatch ‘left [him] to suffer.’”  However, I also knew when writing Old Habits that the “Mercy is evil” theory was ALSO not true, so I was kinda stuck:

“If Gabriel = Reaper for decades, why did he appear to blame Jack and Overwatch for his current condition?”

My original solution was to make “Reaper” a different character and have him operating the situation in the background (like a mystery story), but over time this solution got trickier and trickier to work with.  With Moira, I have a chance to rework much of Old Habits/AOFA to better suit some of the details that have come out since drafting it.

This does mean, unfortunately, that all the “76+127″ content is going to become its own, standalone series.

To switch over to integrating “Soldier: 24,” the “76+127″ stories will have to become their own standalone series.  Don’t worry - I’m not deleting anything.  Old content from ���Old Habits” will be moved to their own fics, so you can read the whole thing in chronological order.

A new version of my updated ideas on SEP has already started being drafted.  Writing it out is just a matter of time at this point, haha.

The conspiracy/Talon council “mysteries” will become more transparent almost immediately.

With Moira, I finally get the chance to explore some of my ideas in “full format” instead of the kinda awkward “Sombra hacking a chat log” parts yall originally got.  This DOES mean that written portions will suddenly be much, MUCH longer.  For example:

Old Habits original chapter 10 (Sombra hacks an SSO chat log): 17 pages

Old Habits revised chapter 10 (Moira discusses the Route 66 battle with council members + Sombra hacks a chat log): closer to 34 pages

The explosion fight has been changed.

Because of the changes to Gabriel’s plot, the nature of the explosion fight between him and Jack has changed significantly.  It does incorporate new information that Moira revealed.

If it wasn’t obvious, I’ve had a draft version of my ideas for the fight sitting in GDocs for about a year now, and I use that for all my flashback/memories, and also for when Reaper and Soldier: 76 are arguing in the present.  There was a major plot point in the explosion fight that I was extremely uncomfortable with, but found it to be “solid angst material.”  In retrospect, I dislike this plot point and have removed it for another plot point that sits better with me, and fits the overall story more comfortably (I think).

So yes, I DO have a new draft of the explosion fight - written completely from scratch, 100% different in tone and emotionality.  Parts of this should begin to show in updates to Chapter 13, when Soldier: 76/Jack reflects on some of the fight.

The Goal:

The goal for AOFA right now is to update Old Habits in “two big batches” - update the first half (Chapters 1 - 15) within 1 - 2 weeks, and then update the second half (Chapters 16 - 31) shortly after.  Optimistically, before January, but realistically, closer to late-January/early-February.

Thanks for sticking with me - both with this post, and with my life changes.  Things are incredibly and often overwhelmingly busy for me, and I don’t really know where many of these things (both personal stuff and fic stuff) will end up.  I really do appreciate any and all support, even if I’m not able to respond to comments.  You guys make it worthwhile to keep writing, and I apologize for how distant I’ve been with this stuff.

[whatisonthemoonarchive]

Re: 'Parsing a fairy tale isn’t exactly conducive to true spiritual examination. I suggest readers re-examine the origins of the Bible instead.'   Robert.

The 'origins of the Bible' referred and linked to in Robert's message above is the following article:

'Backdated Overpopulation Myths and the Forging of The Bible  By Virginia McClaughry*

This article offers in-depth research and documentation of forged histories and invented figures related to Biblical and “ancient Greek” stories:

I propose, that overpopulation and “flood” stories, as we know them, have a single source at a singular point in time. I propose, that in the 1800’s, British intelligence began mass-propagating these types of myths and Fairy Tales as part of an overall plan. They were presented as being from “around the world”.

They were not. They were presented as being “ancient history”. They were not. They were presented as being “scholarly proven”. They were not. How far back do we need to look to see who began that tactic? Only 500 years. Not thousands of years, not tens of thousands of years. Immense dates in antiquity have, more often than not, been employed as part of a propaganda campaign to try and give something more weight – that has none. In this library article, we will attempt to examine what were the ideas extant; what was the purpose in spreading them and the manner in which it was done.

 By 1577, Pope Gregory XIII established the Collegio Pontifico Greco in Rome to “receive young Greeks belonging to any nation in which the Greek Rite was used”, and also for Greek refugees in Italy as well as the Ruthenians and Malchites of Egypt and Syria.  These young men were made to study the “sacred” sciences (meaning fictional histories and Catholic propaganda) in order to spread it among their fellow-countrymen to facilitate the reunion of the schismatical churches. Their first goal was teaching certain Europeans Greek, so that the spread of propaganda could begin. Then came the truly ludicrous cover of “discovered” or “newly retrieved” classical (Greek and Latin) texts of supposed antiquity. Forgeries, in other words. This is also when Latin really got going as a supposedly “ancient” language – it was not.'

The above proposition does not account for the following:

'The Dead Sea Scrolls  What Do the Scrolls Tell Us about the Hebrew Bible?

In 1947 in an obscure cave west of the Dead Sea, Bedouin shepherds discovered some scrolls carefully placed in ten tall jars. They did not know what they had come upon, but they sold the scrolls to a nearby dealer. This was the opening chapter to an astonishing archeological find; eventually some 800 different manuscripts would be found in eleven caves near the valley called Wadi Qumran. In all, some 60,000 fragments, portions, or complete scrolls of these 800 manuscripts were retrieved, covering many subjects.

Many of the documents contained biblical texts. Either fragments or complete copies were found of every book in the Old Testament except Esther. They had been placed in these caves around the middle of the first century AD, and the amazing fact is that they had lain there undisturbed for 1900 years! But why are these Dead Sea Scrolls so important for us? The reason is that before this discovery the earliest manuscripts of biblical texts dated from the ninth century after Christ. They were copies of earlier copies which were long lost.'  https://www.biblica.com/resources/bible-faqs/what-are-the-dead-sea-scrolls/

For interested readers below is a brief history of  the Hebrew Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls:

'Before the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the oldest texts of the Hebrew Bible were in two manuscripts from the 10th or possibly the early 11th century known as the Aleppo Codex and the Leningrad Codex. These manuscripts—the Aleppo Codex, which was recovered partially after a fire and somehow brought to Jerusalem, and the Leningrad Codex, which is now in St. Petersburg—both of these nearly identical texts are what scholars call the rabbinic recension. If you want to know the precise text of the Hebrew Bible you have to go back to this rabbinic recension about 1000 C.E. This text is the work of the Masoretes in Tiberias, who sought to standardize the various then-existing manuscripts of the Hebrew Bible. This rabbinic recension is referred to as the Masoretic Text, or MT for short. It is the basis for all Hebrew Bibles since then. However, several earlier manuscripts of the Hebrew scriptures have survived, but not in Hebrew. These other texts have survived in Greek and are known as the Septuagint. The name comes from the legend that 72 scholars were assigned the task of translating the Hebrew scriptures into Greek for the Greek-speaking Jews of Alexandria beginning about the third century B.C.E., and supposedly all of them came up with an identical text. (The name Septuagint comes from the Greek word for 70).

The three most famous of these Septuagint manuscripts date from the mid fourth to early fifth century C.E. and they’re named Vaticanus, for the one in the Vatican; Sinaiticus, for the one found at the Mt. Sinai monastery (and now mostly in the British Library); and Alexandrinus for the one that came from Alexandria (and also now in the British Library). There are many thousands of variations between the Greek Septuagint and the Masoretic text of the Hebrew Bible. Which variations are to be preferred? Before the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the answer was clear: the Masoretic Text. That was the official textus receptus (received text) of Judaism. The Greek Septuagint was treated with suspicion. It could have been a bad translation. The Dead Sea Scrolls have changed all that.

Among the Hebrew manuscripts found at Qumran are what we might call proto-Septuagint manuscripts; that is, these Hebrew manuscripts are the base texts that were ultimately translated into the Greek Septuagint. What we learn by comparing the Hebrew base text to the Greek text of the Septuagint is that the translators were very good and faithfully translated the Hebrew text. Why, then, are there differences between the Septuagint and the Masoretic text? The answer is that the Septuagint is a translation of a slightly different Hebrew text than the Masoretic text. In a sense, this gives greater authority to the Septuagint. As a great Biblical text scholar and editor-in-chief of the Dead Sea Scroll publication team, Emmanuel Tov, has remarked, “The Masoretic text is no longer the center of our textual thinking.” In many cases, where there’s a variation, the text of the Septuagint is to be preferred.' 'The Dead Sea Scrolls—Discovery and Meaning' by Hershel Shanks   https://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/

  ………………………………………………………………………..

*A  brief profile of Virginia McClaughry the author of 'Forging of The Bible'

'How I Met Mike & Virginia McClaughry

I first met Mike & Virginia online about ten years ago, when I responded, via private email, to a post Mike had done on one of the public newsgroups.  At that time, Mike and Virginia were building their covers as on-source Scientologists, working to expose the corruption in the Church, and continue practicing unaltered Scientology as developed by LRH [L. Ron Hubbard] outside the church.'

Pasted from  https://groups.google.com/forum/#!topic/alt.religion.scientology/20Q1ItxuH24

Mike McClaughry has been a Scientologist since 1968.  He joined staff at the San Francisco org in 1969 to become an auditor. After five years as a Class III auditor and Academy supervisor, he was recruited into the Guardian's Office. Mike was recruited to be the Assistant Guardian for Intelligence (AGI). 

He spent seven years as an intelligence operative in San Francisco before being promoted to be the security officer in the Intelligence Bureau at the United States Guardian's Office (USGO) in Los Angeles. At that point he left staff and became a public Scientologist. Recently he agreed to be interviewed about his own experiences as a church intelligence officer. All available evidence points to the fact that the same activities that he describes in his interview are being carried out by OSA today.  After watching Mike admit to so many crimes in these videos, while at the same time act as if he enjoyed destroying the lives of so many people, one might be forgiven if one asks: Is this man really out of the Scientology Cult, as he and his wife claims?

Also note that he and his wife Virginia McClaughry tried to, and still tries to destroy the so-called FreeZone, with their actions on amongst other places the Newsgroups:

alt.clearing.technology

alt.religion.scientology

Keep an eye on the posters Virginia, and Jontu/David Griffin. Mike McClaughry seldom posts himself to the NG, but at times he may post some articles, also he heavily defending the criminal cult leader L. Ron Hubbard.'

Pasted from  http://www.xenu-directory.net/mirrors/www.whyaretheydead.net/Sten/galacticfederation.homeip.net/mcclaughry/index.htm

[blustersquall]

Only Make Believe // Chapter 13: Safe and Solid

Please be advised that tumblr no longer allows posts with links to outgoing sites to appear in tags. So, to try and get around this, you can read this fic on AO3 by clicking on the source link at the bottom of the post. Alternatively, you can find the master post on my blog, with links to all chapters on tumblr, AO3, and ffnet.

December 21st, mid-afternoon

--

Cullen once believed he was quite good at buying gifts for women. Having two sisters helped, and in the past he managed to buy thoughtful, personal presents for his sisters, female friends, and old girlfriends without much of an issue.

Today he was willing to believe all those instances were flukes and that he just lucked out every time. Either that, or Nevena Trevelyan was frustratingly difficult to buy for, when her main gift was already a personalized, hard back edition of her favourite book. Everywhere he looked in Edgehall there were potential gifts he could buy, but none of them leapt out at him screaming that Nevena would like them.

So far all he had purchased was a photo frame, remembering the photograph of her and her sisters. He hoped maybe this new one might hold a photograph with a more fond memory. The frames itself was white wood with patterns carved out and filled in with a bright turquoise resin, the same sort of colour as some of the decor in her flat. He also bought her a scarf, because he was clutching at straws and was not entirely sure if she would even wear it. But it was something at the very least.

At that moment, he was eyeing up a necklace in the silversmith's stall at the market. There were an assortment of chains and delicate silver pieces laid out allowing customers to pick each and choose the charm and chain. Cullen was considering it, having spotted a dinosaur charm similar to the toy on her bed, but was still not certain. He worried that a necklace might be too much, too forward… but then, given they were pretending to be in a relationship, a necklace would be suitable. Wouldn’t it? He didn’t know, and that was half of his problem. They were friends, but their arrangement required gifts to demonstrate a more intimate relationship than that. He was trying to find gifts that were somewhere between the two relationship stages, and it was proving more difficult than he first imagined.

Stepping away from the silversmith's stall, telling himself he would think about it, he felt an insistent vibration in the back left pocket of his jeans. As he checked the screen to see if he recognised the number - he did not - he shifted out of the main thoroughfare of people to one side so not to get in the way. He did notice there were a number of missed calls on the screen though, and texts. He worried that it might have been an emergency, his sister trying to get hold of him perhaps.

Briefly clearing his throat, he put this phone to his ear, thinking it was a potential client.

"Hello?"

"Hi!" A woman's voice came through on the end, crisp and a little high pitched. Cullen thought he recognised it from somewhere. "Uh - is this Cullen? Rutherford?"

"Yes," Cullen answered. "If this is about a--"

"You probably won't remember me. My name is Roselyn Cousland-Theirin. I called you on behalf of my friend, Nevena Trevelyan?"

Cullen furrowed his brows. Why was Nevena's friend calling him? "I remember you. Nevena's brought you up a few times."

"Great," Roselyn said sharply. "Uhm, do you know where she is?"

"No..." Cullen's stomach plummeted to his feet and a cold sensation slithered through his body making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He took a calming breath. "She was coming into Edgehall with her sister."

"Which one?"

"Ineria. The oldest."

"Fuck," Roselyn snapped. "I had a feeling... Why the fuck did she agree to go anywhere with Ineria? Ineria is a... bitch."

Cullen began to walk to warm himself. "Ineria's daughter, Matilda, asked Nevena to speak to her. I think Nevena believed this would be the only opportunity where they would be alone."

"Makes sense." On the other end of the phone, Roselyn sighed loudly and Cullen could hear another voice and barking in the background. That was all he heard for a good thirty seconds before he lost his patience at being left, dangling, at the end of the phone.

"Roselyn!" he snapped, raising his voice a little in the hopes it might get Roselyn's attention. "I'm still here."

"I know," Roselyn snapped back. "I'm trying to think."

"What's going on?" demanded Cullen. "I'm in Edgehall right now. Is she okay? Did something happen? If she's told you where she is, I can go and find her."

"She's hasn't told me anything," sighed Roselyn. "I got a couple of garbled texts with some code words we set up when we were in college. If she's texting rather than calling, I can only assume she's in too much of a state to talk." The frustration in Roselyn's voice increased and she growled softly. "This is just like when Rick was stalking her and she would get scared. Shit."

Cullen stopped abruptly and blinked hard, his breath catching in his throat. "What?" Rick... stalked her? That was new. Cullen’s urge to find her grew tenfold.

"Nevermind," Roselyn huffed. "You said you're in Edgehall?"

"Right now." Cullen began to make his way through the crowds of people in the market, not entirely sure of a direction. Standing around wasn't helping, at least if he was moving he would feel more proactive and like he was doing something. "She hasn't said where she is?"

"No." A sigh. "Look, I'm going to keep you on the line. Chances are I can get her to give me some vague directions or landmarks near her location. If I give them to you, do you think you could find her?"

"I can certainly try," Cullen said. "Edgehall isn't huge, and if I don't know where something is, I'm sure someone will."

"Okay. I might go quiet for a bit."

Cullen continued to walk following the same path back and forth through the market while he held his phone to his ear, waiting for information. He heard a rustling sound, Roselyn's voice a bit further away and speaking to someone who wasn't him. It was hard to tell if she was typing a message or not, but Cullen could only assume she was from how frantic her voice was and how clearly she was worried.

He was worried now, too. He knew Nevena spending time alone with Ineria was a bad idea. Even if it was for the benefit for Matilda, he knew it his gut it would turn out poorly. Nevena said herself, Ineria could poke and prod at the most sensitive and personal parts of her. He worried about what state he might find Nevena in. Was she prone to panic attacks like he was? Or was she beside herself, and that's why she couldn't speak? He had more questions now too. Roselyn let something slip about Rick and it made Cullen's whole body go cold. The knowledge that Nevena was once stalked by him made Cullen dislike her ex even more than he already did.

Stomach churning over and over, Cullen tried to be patient while he waited for information from Roselyn. If Nevena was texting then at least she was coherent enough to do that. It wasn't much, but it was something. He hoped she was safe. Preferably with someone who could comfort her until he was there. Not that he was much good at comforting anyone, but he preferred the idea of her with someone than alone. She wasn't a child by any means, but the sense of protectiveness Cullen had towards her was overwhelming. At this point he was ready to take Nevena back to Denerim to protect her from her family, disregarding her own choice entirely.

Of course, there was the possibility that he was jumping to conclusions and that in fact he would find her a little tearful and weepy, but otherwise totally fine. That in fact he was cooking up the worst case scenario because that was what his mind did. Even if Nevena wasn't as bad as his mind painted, he would offer what little comfort he could, just for his own piece of mind.

He scratched and rubbed his chin repeatedly as he often did when worried, and wondered if he should begin his own search as the quiet dragged on the other end of the phone. He peered over the heads of passersby, hoping to catch a glimpse of a head of golden blonde hair. Or her hat. Had she been wearing a hat when she left the cabin that morning? He couldn't recall. In fact, the more he thought about it, Cullen couldn't recall anything she was wearing that morning, only that she took her satchel with her.

"Okay!" Cullen almost dropped his phone when Roselyn's voice came through. "I got some information out of her. It's vague."

"That's fine."

"She's inside the shopping centre," said Roselyn. "Do you know where it is?”"Yeah." Cullen began to walk in the direction of the building. He had yet to venture inside it, preferring the shops in the market place, but he knew where it was. It was the building on top of where he parked his car when he arrived earlier. His strides were long and purposeful - something in his expression must have given away his intent as he noticed people parting to let him pass. "Anything else?"

"A hallway, she thinks she's on the second floor where the food court is. And... she says she can see a green sign which says something 'outdoors'."

"Alright."

Cullen kept Roselyn on the line as he walked. She continued to feed him information from brief texts she was receiving from Nevena, all information that was useful in locating her in the hive of people and noise. The shopping centre was unpleasantly warm by comparison to outside, and the festive music drowned out a lot of Roselyn's voice causing Cullen to have to plug his other ear when she spoke. Inside, the masses of people didn't move when he walked. Often he was forced to weave and jostle around groups of people crowded around shop windows.

Eyes scanning every direction possible for a hint of green, Cullen realised suddenly just how many shops used green in their signage. He focused on looking for outdoor shops, or stores that specialised in outdoor activities. Those were few and far between and he was able to narrow it down after stopping and asking a security guard.

The store in question was a small one, tucked onto the end of a long parade of shops on the second floor. It was for camping gear and equipment. Opposite the camping store was a corridor with lower lighting than the main shopping centre. There were signs indicating the way to a fire exit and stairs but there was little else. One end was barred by double doors with the words 'emergency exit' on a large sign hanging above it in red. Cullen assumed the corridor wasn't used much or saw much foot traffic and that was why Nevena chose it to take refuge in.

He was gladdened to see she wasn't alone. A woman was with her, not quite kneeling on the floor. Cullen could hear her offering a few soft murmurs as he drew closer.

"Roselyn?" Cullen spoke into his phone. "I found her."

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know yet," Cullen approached "Let me call you back in a bit."

He hung up before Roselyn's spoke again and slid his phone into his back pocket. His steps were slow, and the woman with Nevena glanced over her shoulder when he was speaking to Roselyn. He tried to smile at the woman, who quickly turned her attention back to Nevena to inform her that there was someone else there.

When he was close enough, Cullen put the few items he bought to one side and dropped to be on the same level as Nevena and the middle-aged woman. Up close he could see Nevena was trembling, her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were puffy from crying. The back of her right  hand was marked with fierce scratches and a few dried streaks of blood. There was a pile of tissues next to her, torn up into tiny fragments. Her breathing was short and shallow, she sniffled occasionally, and her hair was a mussed nest, tangled around her face and shoulders.

Without a word, Cullen inched closer and reached out one hand. He ran his fingers along the back of Nevena's hand approaching slowly. He traced the angry red marks her nails had made with the tips of his fingers before lacing his between her own. The middle aged woman watched him with hawk-like alertness, examining his every move.

"Do you know this man, honey?" she asked Nevena, her eyes never leaving Cullen's face.

Cullen couldn't blame the woman for being protective or not trusting him. There were sick people in the world who would take advantage of an opportunity like this. Asking Nevena made more sense than asking him. He could lie. So could Nevena, of course, but in the state she was in now, Cullen doubted it would even cross her mind.

"Y-yeah." Nevena nodded once and a brief, weak smile came to her lips. She looked at Cullen, eyes meeting his and then dropping to the floor. She was embarrassed, just as he had been when they were in the cable car when they went skiing. "He... He's..."

"I'm her boyfriend." Cullen gently gripped Nevena's hand. Saying that would mean less questions from Nevena's good Samaritan. "Do you know what happened?" he asked the woman.

"Not really." The woman shook her head. She was in her late-fifties at least, but dressed younger. Glamorous, a round face, and pink cheeks. Her hair was a sandy colour, clearly not natural, but it suited her. "I was coming down from the break room after finishing my shift when I found her." She explained. "I was about to head home, but she was in a terrible state. Crying and hyperventilating. I managed to get her to calm down a bit, but she wouldn't let me call one of our first aiders. Said it's just a dizzy spell, and it will pass..." The woman looked uncomfortable. "I didn't want to make things worse by gathering more people, so I decided to stay until she felt better."

"M'sorry," Nevena mumbled.

"Thank you," Cullen added, "for being on hand and respecting her wishes. I think more people would have made the whole thing worse." He shifted his position to sit on the floor. The cold tiles chilled his backside through his jeans and the bottom of his back complained against the hard floor. "She texted me earlier. We were meant to meet," he lied, and it came so easily he was a little surprised. "When she didn't turn up I went looking."

"Has this happened before?" asked the woman.

"Not since I've known her." Cullen pushed some of Nevena's hair back from her face and behind her ear. Her mouth quirked and she met his eyes for an instant. He didn’t even think about when it he pressed his lips to her forehead. The relief of finding her felt wonderful. A wash of coolness washing away the panic. "We're staying in Haven. I'll wait for her to calm down a bit more and then we'll head back."

"Okay." The security guard shifted away and began to gather up her things. She pulled out a small notepad, jotted something down on a page and tore that out. She folded it, and handed it to Cullen. It was a telephone number. "Give give me a call and let me know she's okay," the woman said. "Otherwise I'll be worrying all night about her."

"Will do." Cullen smiled, grateful. He folded the number and slid it into his back pocket. He knew he was unlikely to call but it seemed impolite to refuse. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The woman patted Nevena's shoulder gently. Cullen noticed that Nevena flinched away slightly from the woman’s outstretched hand. He tightened his hold on her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. "Feel better, okay sweetie?"

Nevena nodded. "Thanks," she croaked out.

Cullen released a long breath through his nose once the woman was gone and the only people left in the corridor were himself and Nevena. He slid along the floor until he was sitting beside her, his back against the wall and his legs stretched out before him. Aside from taking her hand, he did and said nothing. He tilted his head back and counted the tiles on the ceiling, waiting. He would not pressure her to talk if she didn't want to. He only wanted her to be calm enough that they might be able to make it back to the cabin and to more familiar surroundings.

Nevena's breaths slowed and deepened gradually. Occasionally her fingers tightened around his hand and Cullen reciprocated the grip.

"What are you even doing here?" Nevena asked after a long silence. Her voice was strained and she cleared her throat a few times, swallowing thickly. "You were up at the cabin."

"I was," Cullen said. "I came into Edgehall to get some things."

"Oh..." Nevena wiped her eyes. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Roselyn called me. I guess she still had my number from when she called me the day we met." Cullen turned his head to look at Nevena. She was staring down into her lap. "She told me you texted her a code word and given that she's in Denerim... figured it made more sense for me to come and find you."

"Makes sense," Nevena murmured. She ran her a hand through her hair. Her fingers were trembling and her skin was cold. "I feel so stupid."

"What happened?" asked Cullen. Nevena's head rose, turned sharply and her eyes met his. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Ineria," Nevena said with a weak smile. "Ineria happened. Like she always happens.”

"Can you… elaborate for me?"

"She got upset that I was trying to give her advice about Matilda," explained Nevena, her voice still strained. "I probably went about it the wrong way. She started saying how I shouldn't have an opinion, given I don't have a family of my own. And that no one wanted me. Or wants me." Nevena scoffed and she leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. "Thing is... She's not completely wrong, either."

Cullen watched and waited for her to continue. He wanted to interject, to tell her Ineria was a liar who didn’t know what she was talking about. He wanted to tell her she  was wanted. To tell her that he wanted her, but he stopped himself. He didn’t think speaking up or ask questions, though they burned on his tongue would be helpful. More likely doing so might cause Nevena to close up and bottle everything away. He wanted to help, and being silent for now, letting her say whatever was necessary would help.

"I got upset. Stupid, really."

Cullen shifted. "Where is Ineria now?"

"Gone back to Haven, I imagine," sighed Nevena. "After we... said our pieces, she left. I assume stranding me in Edgehall was part of the plan. I could’ve gotten a taxi but..."

"Kind of hard when you're hardly able to speak?"

"Yeah." Nevena smiled a little, she cracked an eye open for a moment before closing it again and releasing a shuddering breath. "Something like that, I suppose."

"How did you get here?" Cullen looked around the dingy hallway.

"I... ran. I think." He saw Nevena's brows scrunch up. "It's a blur. After Ineria left I... I was upset. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to find somewhere private to get myself together but... with the people and everything... I think I fell over."

"Panic attack?"

She shook her head. "Anxiety. I was diagnosed with it about two years ago. I can keep it under control. Mostly." Her breath shook a little. "It's just... Oh, I don't know." Nevena pulled her legs up into her chest and pressed her forehead against her knees. She still gripped Cullen's hand with her left, and her right arm came up to cuddle her legs. "I made such a fuss. And I had to text Roselyn. It's so humiliating."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about." Cullen moved closer. He slid his fingers from Nevena's hand and tentatively slipped his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Nevena relinquished to his hold and he enveloped her in both arms. She nestled close against him, curling her legs underneath her body, hiding her face in his neck and shoulder. His insides were coiling like springs. It was hard to know if this gesture was crossing their 'friendship' boundaries or not. He just felt like she needed the extra connection at that moment, and it was all he could think to do. "We all have our weak spots. Some people just know how to exploit them. And," he added with a feeble chuckle, trying to lighten the mood,  “at least we’re equal with panic-slash-anxiety attacks.”

"I guess." Nevena's voice was muffled.

"I'm just glad you're okay," said Cullen, nestling his cheek against her hair. “If anything had happened to you…” He sighed, scrunching his eyes closed and banishing the thought. She was safe. He was with her. He didn’t need to worry any more. I was worried about you.

Cullen could feel the occasional tremble shock through Nevena's body as he held her, winding one hand down her back steadily. She didn't begin to cry, or even sniffle. He believed she might have passed beyond the realm of being upset and into aftershock. That this was the same numbness he felt after a panic attack, where everything seemed lucid and he didn't feel like he was moving the same speed as the world around him.

He counted the seconds between the breaths he took and noticed her own breathing slowing as she copied the rhythm he set. He focused on that, because he knew if he didn't he would focus on everything else. From the smell of her hair filling his nostrils, to how nice she felt in his arms, delicate, slight, and soft. Perfect. Any anger he might have felt towards Ineria was quelled and silenced by a flame of protectiveness. He wanted to keep Nevena safe and away from the noise and bright lights beyond the corridor. They would need to move eventually, but for a few minutes more, they could remain.

It was selfish of him, really. To be enjoying this privacy and intimacy after Nevena had experienced something so horrific and public, but it was a thought that lingered at the back of his mind. It was nice, to hold her so closely, and have the warmth and weight of her body pressed against his. To feel her breathing and be able to brush his mouth over her forehead, kissing her skin in an act of comfort. It was selfish, but Cullen wanted to allow himself that moment of selfishness, because he knew when she was calmer and more herself, a chance like this was unlikely to arise again.

She fiddled with the buttons on his jacket to occupy her fingers. Once or twice a shopper walked past the corridor and glanced down, seeing them both embraced on the floor. They had the decency not to approach or interfere, giving Nevena all the time she needed to collect herself. Time was of no consequence. It might have been an hour or more before either of them moved. Cullen was more than content to remain, and hated the sense of disappointment he felt when Nevena remarked that they should leave.

Nevena moved first when she was ready. She shifted in Cullen's arms, making some murmured apology and a suggestion that they should go back to the cabin. Cullen followed her lead in everything from getting up to walking through the shopping centre. Nevena's steps were sluggish but she was on high alert for everything. Loud noises made her wince, and he noticed a few instances as they walked when someone nearby moved too quickly and she flinched cowering away from  a perceived threat. Cullen drove them back to Haven and the cabin in a relative silence.

It was pitch black outside by the time they parked up outside Skyhold and he unlocked the cabin door. It was warm inside their temporary home and Cullen quickly shed himself of his jacket. Nevena did the same, ridding herself of her boots on the way to the bedroom too. After turning on the main lights, Cullen followed her.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked, lingering by the door.

Nevena shuffled around in the dark of the bedroom feeling her way around the bed. "No, thank you," she mumbled. "Sleep. Just... sleep. I'll eat later. Tomorrow. Maybe."

"Okay." Cullen wasn’t happy with her not eating, but he knew if he tried to force her or convince her to eat, he would go unheard. He watched as she stumbled over something and yelped putting her hands out in front of her to catch herself. To prevent any injuries and because he knew the main light might be a bit bright, Cullen crossed the room to the vanity table and turned on a lamp. Soft yellow light spilled out from that corner of the room, and a little extra light leaked in from where the bedroom door was half open. Cullen froze in place, his eyes widening, when he saw Nevena in the mirror. She was naked from the waist up - except for her bra - and she was busying herself with the button and zipper on her jeans.

Fuck.

Cullen's face bloomed with colour and his chest grew uncomfortably tight. He knew he should look away but his gaze was fixed on view of Nevena's bare skin. She was slim, almost straight up and down with a tiny waist and hips about the same width as her shoulders and dimples at the base of her back. Her skin was slightly tanned, and he saw her freckles were most predominant on her arms, her shoulders. He realised how much his gaze was lingering on the view of her thighs and backside as she bent over the bed, grabbing up her pyjamas and tore his gaze away from the view of her in the vanity mirror.

Despite having had girlfriends before and seen more than a handful of women naked, Cullen couldn't help feeling as though he was intruding on something very private. This was not for him, and he wondered if Nevena even realised he was in the room or if she was too mentally drained to care. He blinked rapidly and stared down at the table before him to centre himself. He listened for the rustle of fabric while counting backward from twenty to try and calm the blood rushing through him and making him feel overheated.

He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He was better than this. Letting base instinct and desire fuel him was beneath him and not something he ever did anyway. And yet... coupled with the memory of the kiss the day before, Cullen's found his mind beginning to wonder what her skin would feel like under his hands as she arched up ---

Nope.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the visions, Cullen jerked away from the desk and frog-marched towards the bedroom door. His cheeks were burning and he wanted to go outside into the cold and potentially lie down face first in the snow.  He would never allow anything to happen, he knew that. But now he had an image in his head... an image that was not going to be easy to forget. He wanted to kick himself and turn back the clock so he didn't look in the mirror as Nevena was undressing. Better yet, he wouldn't have even gone in the room.

"Cullen?"

Double fuck. His hand paused over the door handle.

"Where you going?"

Steeling himself, Cullen turned half a step towards Nevena. She was in the bed, duvet pulled up to her chest and leaning up on one arm. Her hair was all spilling over one shoulder, leaving the other tantalizingly bare, except for the strap of her pyjama top.

Triple fuck.

"Uhm... To the living room." He jerked his finger at the room, keeping his gaze on her face and nowhere else. "If you're going to go to bed."

"Oh." Nevena's voice was small. "Okay."

He could feel the question bubbling up and the words ramming themselves onto his tongue. Don't do it, Cullen. Don't fucking say a word. He flexed his hands at his sides, opening his mouth to bid her goodnight. "Do you want me to stay for a bit?"

Nevena flopped back. "Up to you." She tucked her dinosaur toy under one arm.

Cullen looked between the bed, the living room, and back again. He knew he should call Roselyn and let her know Nevena was safe and they were back at Haven. He should call the house too, let them know Nevena was safe – if they even cared – and give Ineria a piece of his mind. He knew at least Roselyn definitely needed and wanted to know Nevena was safe and that she was okay. He should call her. He needed to call her and get out of this situation…

His selfishness won out. He left the door open, crossed the room to the unoccupied side of the bed and sat.

Every move and gesture was a betrayal. Even after setting ground rules and reiterating their relationship was strictly friendship, he was breaking the boundaries already. There were other things he knew he should be doing. He should have left and gone for a walk. Gone to calm himself down. Spoken to Varric, or better yet, Cassandra, who would definitely put him straight. He should have grabbed up his things and left because he lost his will and senses around Nevena Trevelyan. He should have never agreed to this if he knew he would be challenged so much and find her so alluring. But he had agreed to it, and now, as he slid his feet out of his shoes and lay under the covers beside her, he knew he really was in over his head.

He lay on his back uncomfortably aware of every breath and every movement he or Nevena made. He stared at the ceiling, at the light coming in from the living room and the soft glow from the lamp on the vanity. His right hand rest over his chest and his breathing was deliberately slow and measured. His left hand he opened and closed digging his fingernails into his palm with each inhalation. He would wait until she was asleep and then go into the living room. Then he would kick himself and berate himself until he associated Nevena Trevelyan with a verbal bashing the likes of which had never been seen.

"Hey, Cullen?" Nevena didn't move from where she was curled up, her back facing him.

He turned his head. "Mhm?"

"Thanks for finding me. And looking out for me," she said.

“You should really thank Roselyn.” Cullen replied, smiling to himself. “She’s the one you contacted in the first place.”

“I guess…” Nevena moved a little. “I'm sorry, too."

"Sorry?" He shifted, rolling onto his side and closer to her. He was only moving to hear her better. Her voice was muffled. There was no other reason for him shifting to be closer to her. And when he gingerly placed his right hand down on the covers, his arm arching over her body it was because there was nowhere else to put it. "What are you sorry for?"

"Everything," Nevena replied. "Being such a nuisance. You didn't sign up for this... For looking after me. Or dealing with my family. Or… or any of this."

"Nevena..." He touched her arm.

"It's... I would understand if you wanted to go and cut the contract short. I wouldn't blame you. And I'll still pay you for the whole time," she spoke quickly. Cullen could almost see her face, eyes clenched closed, wrinkle in the bridge of her nose as she fought to get her words out before anyone interrupted her. "I just... wanted to you know. If you left. I wouldn't... There would be--"

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay..." Cullen moved closer. He didn’t think about his gestures or the implications behind his actions now. He wanted to comfort her, to be near her and reassure her that he wasn’t angry. That she owed him no apology, and nor did he expect one. He slid his hand down her arm and wrapped it around her waist cuddling her into his chest. After a moment or two, he felt her fingers shyly sliding between his and his stomach squirmed pleasurably. He pressed his forehead to the nape of her neck and sighed. "You can't get rid of me that easily... I'm not going anywhere."

Especially not without you. He wanted to add, but didn’t.

Nevena gave a small sound of acknowledgement a little before nestling into his embrace. Cullen closed his eyes, his skin prickled and warmth slid down every limb like being submerged in a bath. It had been a long time since he felt the contentment of sharing a bed with someone settle over him as it did now. The familiarity of trust being built and maintained. The comfort, the warmth, and the sense of affection welling up inside him. He was tempted to kiss her shoulder blade. Just let his lips graze her skin wordlessly, and make believe it was an accident caused by movement. He did not, he did allow himself to gently nuzzle the nape of her neck as he exhaled heavily.

He realised he couldn't leave even if he wanted to. Not that doing so would change anything. He was too involved. His feelings for Nevena Trevelyan ran far deeper than he wanted to admit. Leaving without her was out of the question. He would endure a hundred Ineria’s and a hundred Nevan’s if it meant keeping her close and safe.

Even so, after this, once she was asleep, he would extract himself and things would resume as normal. This was a onetime only thing. She needed the comfort and he was there to give it to her. After this, what they said the day before still applied, as it did now. His own feelings didn’t matter. He could ignore them and they could go on as normal. As friends, and  as though there was nothing else between them. Nothing complicated or potentially confusing.

They were friends. Only friends.

He would lie to himself until he believed it. Even if it hurt.

I was going to wait until tomorrow to upload this, but i've not been having the best week, so I thought I'd gift this to you guys a day early. Might help me feel a little better. I am all caught up on comments (hurrah!) so apologies to those of you who have replies to comments from a month ago and are like: 'wtf?'

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. A bit of a slow down from the previous one, a little more mellow, which I think was needed. Bless Cullen, eh?

As always, please let me know what you think in the comments/reblogs/tags etc.. I love reading them and I'll try to get back to people in a timely manner this time. Thanks for reading. See you in the next chapter. <33

[guitarboard42-blog]

Mel’s Holiday Gift Guide: All New Games! Plus a Quick List of Old Faves!

Is this the best day of the year or what?!?

I’m posting these annual gift guides a few weeks earlier than normal this year because a) so many of you have asked for them to go up before Thanksgiving and b) I love ya. In fact, I’m posting this game gift guide today, a gift guide for kids tomorrow, and a his + hers + kitchen gift guide on Saturday. Whoop! 

These gift guides (especially the games edition!) are some of my favorite posts to put together! If this is your first glimpse at one of my gift guides, none of the items I’m waxing poetic about are sponsored. They are just things that our family loves and that we’ve bought ourselves or been gifted from family or friends.

Disclaimer: most of the links below are Amazon affiliate links (where I’ve purchased these games), but feel free to shop around for the best deal!

Here’s a quick link to all the gift guides I’ve posted over the years. 

And here are past GAME gift guides: Game Gift Guide 2015 Game Gift Guide 2016 Game Gift Guide 2017

Also, below the post is a list of some of our favorite games of all time (that I’ve posted in the past and are still going strong in our house today). As always, I love knowing YOUR favorite games, too, so leave any fabulous recommendations in the comments!

1. Double Ditto: this super simple (easy to explain) game provided at least 20 hours of entertainment at several family reunions/gatherings this summer. It’s fun to play with older kids , but the most fun was staying up super late playing with the adults. This is one of my favorite group games to play around the table!

2. Scrambled States of America Game: I bought this game on a whim a couple months ago when my kids were going through a geography phase (that actually is eternal and ongoing), and it is a hit! I have to admit I like playing it just as much as the kids. My 6-year old usually needs to be on a team with someone, but the other kids do great (it helps if everyone playing is within a few years of each other’s ages for fair play). 

3. Chameleon: another great group game, this was also the hit at my family reunion this summer. My friend, Deb, told me about it earlier this year saying her extended family had played it for hours. Same with us! The quick thinking and inevitable mess ups make it super hilarious and fun. This is definitely a mid-teen and older game (my younger kids have trouble catching on and aren’t as sneaky as they need to be at pretending to know the right clue).

4. Dragonwood: this game was recommended by several of you last year in the game gift guide comment thread, and we love it! This is an oft-played Sunday evening game. It’s clever and strategic and gets the ol’ brain working but easy enough to play for kids about 7+. 

5. Pass the Pigs: my grandma always had this game at her house when we were growing up and would visit in the summers. I totally forgot about it until my sister bought a set and I was reminded how quirky and fun and fast and entertaining this game is. It’s a favorite of our whole family. We don’t always follow the exact rules – we go around the table and add up our points based on our pig roll. I love that the whole family can get in on this one.

6. Outfoxed: perfect for those younger game-playing kids, if you are a fan of Hoot Owl Hoot (a huge favorite here), you’ll love this cooperative game that’s great for younger kids, but if you have good-natured teenagers, they actually have a pretty good time playing with their younger sis. 🙂 My sister introduced me to this game; her family of five love it, too. 7. Pit: another childhood favorite, my kids get just as excited (and so dang loud) playing this game as I did growing up. We love it for a good whole family game. All the kids (ages 6 to 14) and of course, me and Brian, get in on the action. Our good friends gifted us this game for a past Christmas, and I’m so glad they did! 

8. Kanoodle: this simple, fun, little game would make a great stocking stuffer! Easy to play, I like that it is a single player game – and it’s great for challenging those brain cells (young and old). I often find my kids playing this on Sunday mornings (or when they are avoiding bedtimes).  

9. Gravity Maze: I think I mentioned this in a quick post earlier this year about what we were doing to maintain sanity in the summer, and this gravity marble run game was a huge hit. My kids pulled it out (and the roller coaster game below) and played it almost every day. It’s a thinking game…that is super fun, too. Gotta love that!

10. ThinkFun Roller Coaster: like I mentioned above, this roller coaster game and the marble run game made summer days bearable and fun. The premise of both games is pretty similar – there are cards (ranging from easy to difficult) that give clues and then whoever is playing tries to complete the challenge. 

11. Solitaire Chess: my kids love to play chess (Brian made them a homemade chess board last year for Christmas with playing pieces put together out of nuts and bolts, and they play it almost every Sunday morning)…but this solitaire version is perfect for those times when they can’t find a willing chess opponent. It’s creative and fun, and I’ve even found myself playing it for a few minutes here and there (my chess skills are rusty and need a little brushing up). 

12. Happy Salmon: another fast paced, super easy game, the biggest disclaimer with this game is that it’s loud and chaotic. Needless to say, my kids love it! It is also pretty easy for all ages in our family to play and have fun (even if more often than not, someone gets an elbow to the face when a High 5 goes awry). 

13. BrainBox Around the World: I love this game so much! Another geography type game, this one also relies heavily on memory skills. We don’t play it as an official “game” so much as a fun trivia activity (it makes a GREAT car game). 

14. Catchphrase: another blast from the past, we recently introduced our kids to this game (and this new and improved Taboo game – did anyone else play and love these games??). It’s nearly impossible to find the original versions of either of these, but we love the new and improved ones. The new catchphrase doesn’t have as many categories as I remember the original one having, but it’s still fun. Both games require teams, so keep that in mind – great for convincing teenagers that playing games (not on their phones) CAN be fun. 🙂

15. Bocce Ball: Brian grew up playing Bocce ball (and lawn darts, although after his brother had to go to the ER twice in a week for a lawn dart gone wrong, I think they got rid of that game)…and this summer we bought a set (bocce ball, not lawn darts, haha) to play as a family. It has been super fun, although some of us are a tad more competitive than others. Ahem. 

*Even though it’s pretty much impossible for my game-loving soul to choose all-time favorites, here are some games that amid all the others are still getting played constantly at our house. We have a lot of other favorites not on this list (or up above in this year’s guide), so remember to check out the past gift guides for all the others. If it isn’t obvious already, we are obsessed with games!*

6 Nimmt (probably my favorite card game of all time) Cover Your Assets Bold Enchanted Forest Qwixx Reverse Charades Battle of the UFOs (we will never, ever get tired of this one-of-a-kind game) Telestrations Mastermind (Cam and Brian literally play this every Sunday and a couple times during the week; Cam is shockingly good) Flimsee (one of our all-time favorite backyard games) Code Names (another game that will never, ever get old)

Disclaimer: I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for me to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.

Source: https://www.melskitchencafe.com/mels-holiday-gift-guide-all-new-games/

[obwcmp]

Year 2 Semester 1

It’s only the end of week 3 and already so much has happened. Scrap that it’s now the end of week 6! It’s been a super busy first half of semester and there’s still heaps of stuff left to do. 

And now it’s the end of week 9, after the mid semester break. So, let’s get to it! 

At long last, welcome to the end of week 12. The end of the semester. From today I have one more week of work left before the super long mid year break. This has turned into a semester look back post after 9 weeks of keeping it in my drafts. So, let’s get to it!

My four courses for this semester consist of three compulsory, core CMP classes, and a single elective. I picked a first year course, Visualisation for Media Production (VIS) as my elective, and then Cross Media Production (CMD), Working with Scripted Material (SCR), and Portfolio and Dissemination (PRT). 

VIS is interesting for a first year course. To make a good end product requires as much work as a second year course if not more. Of course, given that it is a first year course, it allows for students to make something which isn’t necessarily incredible. Take last years animations as an example (something i never got to show on this blog, sadly).

We have two main parts of our final hand in at the end of the semester. The first is to create a character concept through mixing two different story worlds and having the resulting character make sense within one of the worlds. So in my case, i took Piglet from 100 Acre Wood, and created a character which had the essence of Piglet, but made sense in the world of Mad Max. We had a selection of different worlds to choose from, and i thought that combination would be funny.

The end goal with the character part of the assignment is to show our developments and a final rendered character drawing, alongside a prop and a vehicle. It was supposed to be done by the end of Week 7, and here we are 4 weeks later with it still not done. Fun!

So many moodboards...

A small slice of the development stage, these are a bunch of silhouettes for various characters I made up. Of this selection (we were aiming for 50 initial silhouettes) we had to pick three which were based on the same character and then develop 30 more from those three, but this time we were fleshing out the inner details. I’m up to this stage now.

Currently my character is based on Piglet, who used to be a circus performer before dropping out and joining forces with bandits. A master of playing the fool without being overly conscious of it, while always hiding their true identity behind a mask. They still have their circus shoes, but they’ve been modified over the years to be more combat ready. A long coat to protect from dust, the usual cargo pants seen in Fury Road, and a pig mask, the details of which i’m still fleshing out. As for the prop and vehicle, i’m thinking of a gliding flying machine (given piglet seems to always be carried away by the wind) and their prop is a spear with a spinning ring of chainsaws in the shape of a flower at the end.

My work so far, the two lower right side ones are the ones i’m going with despite their lower bar of detail.

The second part of the assignment it to take a scene from a selection of different movies, and break it down shot by shot into a storyboard, including rough and final storyboards, and then turning the finals into an animatic. It’s definitely the easier part of the assignment, at least from my point of view. I’ve picked the scene from Mad Max 2 when Max meets the gyrocopter pilot for the first time. 

The rough storyboard of the scene. I’m yet to go through and create a clean looking, multi layer final version which can then be translated into an animatic.

Next on the list of courses is Cross Media! It’s an interesting course in that it’s almost a taste of what’s to come in third year. We were given a brief, “Don’t mind the generation gap” where we were tasked to make a cross media narrative that plays upon, goes against, or has something to say on generational differences and stereotypes. Being that the project is cross media, we have been tasked with using two different mediums to tell the same story, and as an extra challenge we also have to take into consideration a narrative requirement between being location based, time based, or data driven.

I had an idea which I really liked but was hastily written and had role descriptions which I think scared people off. The mediums consisted of a game, a sculpture, and was location based. The game was a web based point and click adventure game which utilised real photos taken around Wellington, which were then manipulated to add certain elements, particularly puzzles (this part of the idea was blatantly ripped off an idea Marie had where we would use a 360º camera to take pictures and create a point and click game with that (think geoguessr, or Myst III as opposed to Riven)). In the game you would be able to go to the location where my location based sculpture would be set up. The sculpture in this case is an interactive computer terminal which tells the same story in a different way. Completing the story the terminal tells, and also taking into account clues placed around the terminal allows for the ‘true’ ending to be unlocked in the point and click game. Along with this, the location in the game and the actual physical location have many differences, and it takes you to see both to see the differences (for instance, the hints around the terminal can only be found in the physical game, and are only hinted at in the web based game)). 

My roles included wanting to use Unreal Engine 4, amongst other things, so that idea flopped. I ended up joining groups with Paris who had an AR game crossed with a location based ‘book’ in the form of a poster campaign on public transport. Along with Paris and I joined Clara, Kennedy, Grace, and Jacob. We called ourselves Paris’ Little Bitches, and got going! The whole project has developed fairly far since the initial concept was laid down. Originally, we were going to locate the posters on public transport but the lecturer Birgit was quick to point out that from an access standpoint that was far from ideal. Currently we are thinking of hosting the posters in malls, and public places where there is a wide range of audiences passing through. 

In week 11 we had our demo for the project in class 1D04 which was fun! We printed hand outs and had our game functioning at a very basic stage on a couple of different computers. Our moderators, Bridget and Kerry Ann from the school of music and school of design respectively, seemed to like what we had done which was a relief. 

A laggy screen capture of the basic button functionality which works with AR, i’ll have a final version available on my portfolio after 7JUN

Next on the list is Working with Scripted Material. This course has been fun as we’ve had a lot of creative wiggle room to do what we want, but at the same time we get a slice of how harsh things like money and time can be on creativity. A good reality check in other words. Back in week 1 we were given a triptych to use as a “story starter” so we used these three images, which had some basic dialogue and set pieces, and created a story from them. My idea didn’t get picked, it was ridiculously ambitious as are most of my projects, and instead I joined Hunter’s idea which involved Lovecraftian horror/thriller type stuff but set in New Zealand. 

Thus In The Harbour Troubled Waters was born. Jonathan, our tutor, couldn’t stand the old name. In our group we had Morgan as director, Hunter as producer, Paris as writer, Ebeney as production designer, Tim as script consultant and editor, and me on marketing. 

A very low resolution screenshot of a poster Morgan made for the final hand in.

Our project, at least in our eyes, got the most criticism from Jonathan which was honestly super helpful. We’ve come out with a pretty solid concept to hand in, and along with that he likes our script. What a relief! 

Lastly from my selection of courses is Portfolio and Dissemination! This course has been such a good kick in the arse to get myself to make my portfolio which for most of last year was just a handful of .html files sitting around in my project folders. Something else amusing about PRT is that this blog became part of my assessment! Not intentional at all but an added bonus. As a result the navigation on this blog has been cleaned up, and there’s now a link to my portfolio at the top of the page! I’m thinking of adding social media links here too.

A sneak peek at my homepage. My portfolio is at obw.neocities.org!

The first half of the course just had us working on our portfolios and looking into what makes a portfolio good. I had a very good conversation with our lecturer and tutor, Sim, about our thoughts on what makes a portfolio stand out and how that is changing over time. Sim really wanted us to tell our story as a creator, and show progression and growth, whereas I was more of the understanding that only showing your absolute best in a compact and punchy portfolio was the way to go. 

I mostly stuck to my guns with what I showed in my portfolio, for example my ridiculous VFX reel which is less than a minute long:

I’m not kidding!

Sim and my friends liked it though so i’m happy. 

Our second part of the course was interesting, as we had to plan an event which could be used to promote our portfolios through. Josh came up with an idea for a game jam type arrangement where participants would bring in their own assets which were then added to a pool which all the rest of the participants could pull from to create pretty much anything, not just a game. 

Thus, Multi Asset Slam House or MASH was born. 

Bright pink, glitchy marketing was the path we took with this

We presented our idea earlier this week (week 12) and people seemed to really like it, including Matthew who is the course coordinator for some of the film courses in CMP which is yet another relief as he is very critical with his feedback. 

That about sums it up for my courses! Along with this stuff I got close to starting a club with some friends, went to Global Game Jam in Wellington back in January, Massey Digital’s attendance grew exponentially. Expect another post soon with those events and what’s to come in the near future.

[zonezerogeek]

Classic (-ish) TV Shows: Volume 2 --- Sliders

      The year was 1995 and it was quite a year for television. The History Channel was launched, Hercules: The Legendary Journeys first aired, Star Trek Voyager debuted on UPN (remember UPN?), Xena: Warrior Princess first aired and Sliders premiered. That’s the part I want to focus on today: Sliders, which first aired on March 22, 1995 and ran for five seasons, was one of the best shows to come out of the 1990s. The first three seasons were on Fox and the last two were on SciFi Channel, before it “transformed” in to Syfy. It was one of the best science fiction shows of the mid to late 1990s. It had all the great elements: including action, science, fantasy, adventure and a cast that meshed so well together you couldn’t help but feel a connection to them like you were part of the team. After the first episode aired an article in the Orlando Sentinel said “The show builds such good will, through its engrossing plot twists and its likable stars, that you sit back and enjoy the ride.” 

This post may include spoilers, but for a show that ended over sixteen years ago I don’t know if a spoiler warning makes sense anymore.

    The premise of Sliders was that there were an infinite amount of parallel worlds. Where you are still you but everything else is a little bit different, as the opening says. Can we all take a moment to remember a time when shows had real opening credits? It is something lost in today’s television. Why? For more advertising time? It surely isn’t for more storyline time. But, back to the topic…

    In the worlds of Sliders, green lights suddenly mean stop, Elvis can still be alive, geeks are the jocks of the world and adults over the age of thirty are second class citizens. A version of the Earth for every scenario that could happen to a situation. Quinn Mallory, played by Jerry O’Connell, is a highly intelligent college student who, while working on a machine in his San Francisco basement, inadvertently develops a portal to a parallel universe. While demonstrating this to a professor, Maximillian Arturo played by John Rhys-Davies, and his friend Wade Welles, played by Sabrina Lloyd, something goes wrong. When they jump through the portal it also pulls in a singer Rembrandt Brown, played by Cleavant Derricks. Before this scene, Quinn is visited by himself from another world, that wants to give him some pointers but isn’t able to finish telling him an important detail about the timer used to open the wormholes to go home. When Quinn, Arturo, Wade and Remy get to world in the state of nuclear winter they are supposed to stay for an extended period of time. Quinn, not knowing the potential repercussions, resets the timer to go through the wormhole to get back home sooner. This causes the setting to get out-of-wack. They come out of the wormhole to a world that looks similar to home but is very, very different. They need to keep sliding in order to find their way home. All of that, and the first episode wasn’t even halfway in. I could keep going. 

    The original four main cast members worked amazingly together and made the show what it was. Jerry O’Connell is a great lead and is perfectly supported by the amazing John Rhys-Davies, who was an unexpected addition to a sci-fi/fantasy show but a pleasant surprise. Sabrina Lloyd provides a vital role of the inquisitive best-friend who allows for the lead character to explain things to the audience. The believable friendship of O’Connell and Lloyd’s characters is another element of the show that makes it so great to watch. The curve ball of the group is soul-singer Remy, played by Cleavant Derricks. While unexpected, his character just works. Derricks and Rhys-Davies develop a type of bromance on the show, before we called it that. They really played well off each other and Derrick’s character has a great way of interacting with all of the characters. They all do, in fact. Each character has a unique connection and relationship to each of the others. It was part of what made the show work so well. While other actors came in, like O’Connell’s brother Charlie, and some left the show, like Rhys-Davies, the show was still compelling. That being said, this original cast was the best combination the show ever had. 

    Sliders was a show that could grab your imagination and keep you engaged episode after episode. The stories were compelling and entertaining. The first three seasons, by far, were the best. After the third season the show took a bit of downturn in storylines and lost its former glory. This is really surprising, given the move to SciFi Channel from Fox. In an article from Cult Times, in 1998, the decision behind this downturn was described to be an unfortunate move. “Unfortunately, to fulfill its enormous potential, Sliders would have to be revamped… Consequently, when the show’s third season premiered… viewers were treated to an action-adventure series which bore little resemblance to the show’s earlier offering.” While I don’t benchmark this change to season three, or at least not until the later half, this isn’t far off. The show was a fantastic show and it truly had the potential to have lasted even longer if it hadn’t been for that shift. Those first three seasons, though. They were gold! Amazing stories and wonderful acting. We need more shows like Sliders. 

Links:

Cult Times Article

Orlando Sentinel Article

IMDB - Sliders

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© Zone Zero Geek & Sabrina Klein, 2014-2017