#and friendship is not second to romance the moment we as a society stop pushing that the more genuine close friendships we can have

[svnflowermoon]

"this thing is inherently romantic—" COWARD!! that person is my soulmate our hearts are literally permanently intertwined don't you dare tell me that i can't write them a love letter

[lumau]

Gentlewings

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Yay! Finally more Juprafel content! Here is a fanfic for you that I’ve written for the Mogtober 2020 prompt for day 5 (favorite side character).

Notes: I’m still pre-Hollowpox, so some things might not line up anymore later on. I wanted to write down one (of my many) ideas on how Jupiter met Israfel for the first time. What I enjoyed was to specifically not focus on Israfel's addictive singing, but on what else might connect him to Jupiter, what his personality could be and his background. I have (many) theories about him and the “not-actually-angels”, as a lot is still left in the air (pun intended) after Wundersmith. I made up quite a few things about them, which will very likely be inaccurate. I realise the angels from Grave Importance influenced me and especially the story around Amitiel and Zophiel. I just really got something for corrupted angels, I guess. :D

There will be some flirty stuff (it’s Jupiter North after all!), but you can totally read this as the beginning of a special friendship if you’re not into shipping.

And if you are, though, I already plan to write a follow up story for Mogtober day 9 which will likely have more of a romancy note to it. And there will be the matching illustration I made, so stay tuned for that!

Oh, and a shout out to those who were there for the first posts on this blog – there will be a moment of recognition for you if you make it to the end! :)

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Gentlewings

When he received the Stealth’s request to join forces with them on a special mission that would involve the visit of a very fancy and exclusive soirée, it all sounded exciting and like the perfect job for him. Three hours in though, Jupiter felt the nagging of a headache and, even worse, extremely bored. It turned out he had not been recruited because of his impeccable looks, his charisma or his ability to turn every party into a roaring success, but because of him being a Witness.

To his outrage, they had not even let him wear his famously snazzy pastel mint coloured evening suit. However, no one could stop him from giving the all black stealth uniform at least a small personal touch by adding a floral pink pocket square and his favourite lavender dress shoes. They had to agree to this mildly rebellious act begrudgingly. His ginger mane and beard already made it impossible for Jupiter to be actually stealthy anyways, and their human and wunimal resources (HWR) for this job were so limited, they couldn‘t risk losing his cooperation.

As he was supposed to, Jupiter let his gaze slowly wander over the crowd from the outskirts of the dim lounge. Once again, he could not detect any sign of disturbances in the general atmosphere of the party. Most of those attending were slightly on edge and rather wished they were somewhere else, as he could clearly see in their auras and the web of Gossamer threads, but that was nothing unusual at a political event and what he had expected due to the delicate nature of the gathering.

Scattered across the room was a small number of extremely posh diplomats and their guests. The intention of WunSoc in inviting the COG (Celestial Observation Group) was to stay on good terms with them, an urgent necessity after the recent issues they had gotten into when both groups were faced with being involved in those interspecies murder cases.

Jupiter had never before been in a room with several Celestial Beings at once, and he could do without that experience. Part of the preparation for the job had been a thorough briefing about their kind, and only a few chosen senior Stealth officers with special mental training had been found suitable. Watching the interactions in the room through his lens had been captivating at first, but now it started to tire Jupiter out. Humans were already so complicated on their own, but the unique trait of the Celestials, absorbing and influencing the emotions of those around them, turned the whole room into a blurry melting pot. As Jupiter curiously observed, the clowd-like puffs of emotions were drawn towards the winged folks, but sometimes their own state of mind also seemed to drift over to their opponents, engulfing and influencing them.

Fascinating, but clearly highly dangerous and for Jupiter, who’s visual filters were lowered on his watch post, quite exhausting. He had been instructed to notify the chief officer immediately, should the atmosphere in the lounge take a risky turn or should he detect any hostile intentions. So far everyone was peacefully engaging in small talk though.

Mentally turning his filters back up, Jupiter closed his eyes for a second and stifled a yawn. He checked his fob watch – 15 minutes till the end of his shift, finally. A smile crossed his face. Through the eyes of a ‘normal’, the sight of the room was actually outrageously beautiful. The dim light made the Celestials‘ skin, wings and gowns shimmer in varying metallic shades, and their faces wore mild, austere looks as if nothing could ever disturb their composed aloofness. The briefing had warned about their ethereal beauty and mental influence, but seeing it in person was something else. Jupiter could feel a little pinch of longing in his stomach. The worst part of the job was that he had to keep at the sidelines of the party – not a particularly fun party, but still.

Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, something sparkly in the shadows of an alcove. He focused and could make out the shape of a person surrounded by a sizzling cloud of gloomy energy. Tensing he tried to see what was going on. He did need light to make full use of his knack, but it was bright enough for him to tell that someone was not having a good time over there. Were they hostile though? There was some anger, for sure, but diffused with other emotions like anxiety and sadness, and a very strong sense of being out of place. Definitely not someone planning to overthrow the Wundrous Society or cause a civil war between sky and ground.

Pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against, Jupiter started to stroll over to where he had seen the golden shimmer in the darkness. Jupiter’s curiosity was piqued. His face lit up. For the sake of the safety of the Free State, he had to investigate, right?

“Excuse me, is everything okay?” he addressed the stranger, approaching, but before he could take another step, their head shot up and without warning Jupiter was hit by such a sudden wave of anger, it felt like a fist to his stomach. He gasped and stopped dead in his tracks. There was a cloud of chaos emanating from the Celestial, speckled with hundreds of tiny flame-like shards that were swarming towards him like angry wasps. Jupiter felt the irresistible urge to turn around and get out of there immediately. Then he remembered to breathe. One slow, deep breath. And another. Like he had been taught when he had first learned to control his vision. And another. And he could see past the darting flames and feel his body again. Nothing was physically attacking him. He just needed to focus.

Taking one more deep breath, he concentrated and said in a calm and measured voice, sporting his warmest smile, as if nothing had just happened: “I saw you sitting here alone and was wondering if you needed anything.”

It took the Celestial a moment to find their composure, but the storm-like cloud around them was calming down. Jupiter suddenly felt a desire to go to the bar and get them a strong drink. Blinking, he could see that this prompt had not appeared out of nowhere, but it was actually drifting over to him from inside the alcove. “Sneaky!” he thought slightly amused, “This should get interesting.”

“Look,” he said, “I’ll get you a drink, if you stop glowering. Just give me a minute, alright?” He winked and was about to turn away, when a low, deeply melodic voice spoke. “We have been warned about you, Captain North.”

Jupiter’s heart made a little jump and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. That voice… it was the most perfect sound in the universe. He could see it sending little rippling waves through the Gossamer. Someone with a voice like that shouldn’t even be able to exist in this realm. It seemed somehow… indecent.

Jupiter noticed that he was staring at the Celestial open-mouthed and shook himself out of it by running a hand through his hair. “I’m flattered! What have you been warned about? My sharp wits? My gingerness? Or about me being very handsome?”

To his own surprise, the hint of a smile crept across the dark face. Jupiter noticed once again a golden shimmer. “All of those might have been mentioned,” the Celestial replied, standing up, “but we were mainly told to not engage with you due to your special ability of seeing the truth.”

“Yep, that’s me!”, Jupiter smiled, obviously pleased. “As you already know so much about me, may I ask for your name?” There was a stirring and a soft rustle of feathers, as the Celestial stepped smoothly out of the dark corner. Now Jupiter could see where the reflections came from. The dark skin was rippled in tiny rivers of gold, and the folded wings were speckled with what looked like a million golden stars. It was difficult to not feel awed by such otherworldly beauty.

“Pleased to meet you, Captain North. My name is Israfel.” “Israfel, it’s my pleasure. And please call me Jupiter, I’m currently not working.” “Are you not? I thought you were on watch duty? That’s what I was told, at least.” Jupiter made a mental note about an alarming lack of secrecy in the preparation of this mission. “My shift has ended”, he checked his fob watch, “one minute ago exactly. My replacement is just taking her place over there.” He had spotted Barren, the Bulldogwun that was taking over for him across the room and gave her a little wave, that she answered with a grim nod. While she didn’t have his vision, her sense of smell was so finely tuned that she could perceive a lot of what he saw. He felt sympathy for her. It was hard work for either of them to use their senses in a room full of people.

“So, Israfel. Will you be having that drink with me regardless of those warnings?” Jupiter tilted his head with his most inviting smile. There was a short silence. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of us to be seen together. Let’s meet outside on the balcony in a minute. I’ll have a double-shot of Whiskey.” Without waiting for a reply, Israfel moved towards the balcony and left Jupiter standing, a slightly sheepish grin on his face, feeling utterly pleased at this exciting turn of events.

Jupiter had to work his magic on the bartender, as this was in fact an alcohol free event. They couldn‘t risk anyone letting their guards down tonight. Shortly afterwards he stepped out onto the wide balcony, in one hand a flute of pink champagne and the Whiskey in the other.

Israfel stood at the balustrade overlooking the nightly Nevermoor, wings mantled as if to stretch them after having them tucked for too long. A light breeze ruffled the feathers that reflected the light of the lanterns and they seemed to glow warmly. Jupiter urged himself to continue moving, as he’d also happily just stood there, observing this almost surreal scene, forever.

“One Whiskey for the gentle--- erm...” Jupiter stopped, his mind running into a dead end. Israfel took the glass from his hand and drank. “It’s okay, you can say gentleman. Although my kind does not abide by your human roles of gender, your masculine forms would be most suitable for me.” He downed the rest of the glass and set it down onto the balustrade.

They stood in silence for a moment, taking in the view of the sleeping city. “It must not be easy for you to live around all of this.” Israfel gestured towards the dim lights below. “Hmm?” “As you probably know, my kind absorbs others' emotions. Living amongst all these people... I just couldn’t. And I suppose it must be similar for you, seeing everything, always.” He gave Jupiter a quizzing look, “How do you do it?” “I see you’re not into small talk, are you?” Jupiter chuckled amused, “Tell me more about this emotions thingy then. How does it work?”

Israfel looked a little annoyed by his evasiveness, but still answered. “It’s fairly simple. We take in others’ emotions and they become part of us. Good emotions nurture and heal us, while negative emotions pull us down and can be quite a pain. We depend on the emotions of others, but too much of them or especially bad ones can even cause harm. Human emotions are complicated. Amongst ourselves, we can control what we take in. That’s why we always live in pairs or groups and rather stay away from humans.”

“Wait,” Jupiter interrupted, “what you’re saying is you’re practically feeding on emotions? And you would die if you were left alone?” “Not quite, no. Our bodies need food and drink, and we can survive without others’ emotions. But our spirit would wither, and after some time, we would be left empty.” “Fascinating!” Jupiter proclaimed, “But also quite dreadful, the thought of dying internally.”

Now it made somewhat more sense to him, Jupiter thought. The Celestial Beings were all utterly beautiful and could charm and manipulate people with their voices, and although they were rarely ever seen in Nevermoor, practically everyone admired the angels of legends which they resembled. It was quite a refined hunting technique, coming to think of it, for a being that thrived of affection to reflect the fond dreams and wishes of their prey. But Jupiter wasn’t judging.

“So back in there earlier, at that dull party”, he motioned towards the lounge, “were you just a little hangry then?” Israfel startled, and burst into a snorting laugh, that Jupiter hadn’t thought he’d be capable of, as it seemed way too profane. “Maybe. Now I’m better though.”

Jupiter could see that. The dark cloud had not vanished, but there were other things in the Celestial’s aura. The alcohol, silver shimmer of excitement, little flashes of curiosity and a string of… affection? Focusing closely for a moment, Jupiter could see a very faint, thin rosy ribbon wafting in the air and connecting the two of them underneath their rib cages. ‘Huh!’ he thought, ‘Makes sense. Not hangry anymore.’

Israfel’s voice made him look up again. “Actually, I was kind of stood up. I’m not part of the COG. Cassiel brought me along as his companion. I didn’t want to come, it’s always such a pain being cooped up in a room on the ground, no space to stretch my wings without knocking anything over… Those boring conversations and not even a proper drink to be had.”

Jupiter could see some of the tiny flames reappear and the cloud around Israfel’s head grew darker again as he talked himself back into a rage. ‘Quite an intense one, he is’ Jupiter thought somewhat approvingly. “And as soon as we get here, Cassiel immediately disappears for a special meeting or something that he wouldn’t tell me about, leaving me all by myself in a room full of strangers. Not as if he hadn’t been depriving me all those last weeks anyways.” Israfel slapped his hand on the balustrade and left it there curled into a fist, staring down sulkily at the empty street below.

“Sounds like you’ve had quite a night,” Jupiter remarked compassionately, wilfully blocking the raging flames from his vision. “Are you and Cassiel… close?” “Yes. No. Well, not in the sense that your kind speaks of it. We don’t form such emotionally entangled bonds as you humans do. We provide for each other. It’s a form of communal organisation.” Jupiter tried to imagine what that could look like and wasn’t sure he understood. An organised relationship to provide for each other's needs of affection? 9 a.m., 5 minute hug before work; 6 p.m., make 3 compliments each? When he looked at Israfel’s aura though, what he saw resembled pretty much what he’d expect to see in someone who had been hurt by a loved one. He stopped his inner monologue to turn back to the grim looking Celestial. His wings were drooping now and he seemed so utterly miserable, Jupiter could only just stop himself from giving him a big squeezing hug, once again, a wish that was not just of his own making.

“Hah!”, Jupiter suddenly burst out, “Gentlewings!” “What?” Israfel looked up at him in bewilderment. “Oops, did I say that out loud? I just realised, earlier I should have said ‘One Whiskey for the gentlewings’, cause… well, you…” he trailed off. Israfel shook his head in disbelief, but was unable to help a smile creeping onto his face. “I can’t even.” “But thanks, anyways.” “What for?” “That you’re trying to cheer me up. I appreciate it.”

“Captain North!” a voice rang across the balcony, making both of them startle and turn. “Inspector Lamar?” Jupiter started walking over to the stealth officer standing in the doorway. “We have been looking for you, the guests are leaving and Inspector Barren would like a word with you before we wrap up.” Inspector Lamar saw past Jupiter where Israfel was still standing at the balustrade and cast him a questioning look, “Is everything alright, Captain?” “Right as rain, Inspector, right as rain. I was just checking in on one of our guests who felt a little queasy. You know, not much room for wing stretching and so on in there, got a little claustrophobic, poor chap.” He gave Inspector Lamar a conspiratorial smile. “I’ll find Barren in a minute, I’m just going to make sure that Celestial is feeling better before he finds his way back to the others.” The Inspector didn’t seem fully convinced by his words, but nodded and turned to re-enter the lounge.

Israfel strolled over to Jupiter, a worried look on his face. Jupiter gave him a reassuring smile. “No need to frown, they just informed me that I’m wanted by my colleague and that the party is finally ending. The guests are leaving, so you should probably go and find Cassiel as well.” “Oh, right,” Israfel sighed and nodded, “thanks for helping me out earlier. You made that evening a lot more bearable.” Jupiter beamed at him and couldn’t help but feel very pleased with himself. If he didn’t know his knack was being a Witness, he’d have sworn it was picking the most interesting people in every crowd, finding the odd one out, those who wouldn’t conform, and befriending them. He knew right away that Israfel was different from the other Celestials, and was convinced he’d only merely scratched the surface of his personality. He could feel the promise of unexpected adventures in the air.

Leaning casually against the door frame of the lounge, Jupiter ran a hand through his long ginger hair. “If you’d like something better than a just bearable evening… You know I run the Hotel Deucalion, and Frank, my party planner, who is a vampire dwarf by the way, only one in Nevermoor, he’s always coming up with something brilliant for our weekly party night. Should you want to join this Saturday… you might even have some fun?” Israfel’s face showed surprise, as if him having fun at a party seemed quite an abstract idea. He considered the thought for a moment, and Jupiter was pleased to see the shimmer of excitement intensifying around him. But then something crossed his mind, his face fell and the silver glow subsided. “Listen, thanks for asking, but your kind and my kind can't ever become closely acquainted. We become dependent on your emotions, and our ways of influencing you mentally would mean you could never truly trust me. It's an impossible endeavour, really."

Jupiter smirked. He was Captain Jupiter Amantius North, member of the Wundrous Society and League of Explorers, first to climb Mt Ridiculous, discoverer of 17 previously undiscovered realms, to just name a few of his many (partially self-given) titles, and for a good reason – he could never resist an impossible challenge.

"Shall we say Saturday, 8 p.m. then? I will meet you in the Deucalion lobby. Unless, of course, you’d rather come via the rooftop terrace? Oh, and don’t worry – all of my staff and my esteemed guests are very discreet. No need to fear a public political scandal should we get utterly drunk and end up dancing together on the buffet tables." He winked and turned to move away quickly, leaving Israfel standing dumbstruck, before he had the chance to say anything in return.

Jupiter could feel his heart pounding with excitement and glee, a wide smile drawn on his face, as he briskly walked through the now almost dark lounge, ignoring the shadows of the events of this past evening that were emanating all around him. He could still see a hint of the rosy ribbon that connected him to Israfel when he looked down. What an intensely fascinating person he met tonight! He was hooked.

[honestlyhufflepuff]

Together-Together

Jam Week Day 4: Together. This is the spiciest lil’ piece of fluff I’ve ever written. Word Count: 1310.

***

“Connie, are we together-together?”

She sputtered out some of the hot chocolate she’d been drinking, looking at his wide eyes staring at her. They sat on his bed, ready to watch the director’s cut of the newest “Unfamiliar Familiar” movie. Connie thought it was a train wreck, but she was still excited for Steven to see it for the first time so they could pick it apart afterwards.

It looked like the movie would have to wait a few minutes, though.

“What do you mean, Steven?”

“Well, we hung out with your friends from school a few days ago and-“

Connie let out a long sigh. She knew her friends would start meddling the second they finally met Steven.

“-and Jeff asked if we were ‘together.’ And I said, ‘Not right now because she’s in the bathroom.’ And then he said ‘No, I mean together-together.’ Then I asked what that meant, and he started laughing.”

“Did he?” Connie forced a smile, reminding herself to have a little talk with Jeff later.

“Yeah, but he told me some stuff about what it meant later. He wasn’t laughing then, and he said he wanted to ‘help me out’ or something.”

Connie felt heat creeping into her cheeks, bracing herself, “And what did he tell you?”

“Just that when you’re ‘together,’ it means that person is very special to you.” A too-big smile spread over Steven’s face and his words started to tumble over each other, “Like, you want to be with that person more than anyone else, and you go places together, and you like to hug and hold hands and, um…” he cleared his throat, “and, well, we don’t do all the stuff he mentioned, but we do most of it. So I was just wondering if we’re ‘together.’”

“Do you want to be together?”

“If you do.” His eyes darted up to hers and then back to the blankets, “He also said that once you’ve been together for a while then you even fall in love, and I’ve loved you for a long time, so I figured maybe we were already together-together.”

“Wait, what?”

“What?”

“Back up a second, you said you..”

“I said I love you.”

He said it with a straight face, without the hesitation or the drama there was in romance stories. He said it with just as much ease as he said his own name.

She sighed, “I don’t think you know what that means in this context.”

“Sure, I do. I’ve told you I love you before. Why’s it different now?”

Connie stared down at her mug, reminding herself that Steven was almost 19 now. They were at a normal age to be talking about this kind of stuff. He still seemed so young, but he was just barely starting to integrate into human society after all the years his role as a Diamond took from him. He kind of missed the train for human adolescence, and she couldn’t fault him for not knowing all the social nuances of other young adults.

“You told me you loved me in the same breath that you told the Crystal Gems. You love almost everyone.” She explained, “It’s a different kind of love when you’re ‘together.’ Or maybe, an additional layer?”

“They should really have words for the different kinds of love.”

Connie wanted to mention that the Greeks actually did have that, but instead she just said, “Steven, I’m of scared of being ‘together-together.’ I love you, too, but there’s nothing I value more than our friendship. I’ve known so many people our age at school who dated and then they never wanted to talk to each other again! I never wanted to risk our friendship just to be able to call you my boyfriend.”

“So, if we were together, you would be my girlfriend?”

“Well, yeah.” She shrugged, “That’s how it works.”

A big, toothy grin spread across Steven’s face and crinkled his eyes, “I really like the way that sounds.”

Connie’s breath caught in her throat and she had to look away from him; he was so bright sometimes it was like staring at the sun. It was hard to figure out how she felt about dating when he was so cute, and when she liked the sound of his voice calling her his ‘girlfriend’ so much.

“Those other people you knew who were together who ruined their friendships, how long had they been friends with each other before they started being ‘together?’”

“Um, not very long in most cases.”

“Well, we’ve been friends for six years! And we’ve gotten through a couple of fights and saved the galaxy together. I think we have a strong enough foundation in our friendship to get through being ‘together.’”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“I mean,” he added softly, “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m fine if we’re ‘alone,’ too. I just wanted you to know that if you decided you wanted to be ‘together,’ but then changed your mind and wanted to go back to this, I would never hold it against you.”

“Steven…” she stared at him, unsure what either of them needed in that moment.

“I do love you, though. And I know I love almost everyone, but I mean it differently with you. I want to help you be happy and face everything together with you. Also, sometimes I-” he turned a deep pink and grabbed the side of his head as he averted his eyes from her, “please don’t be mad.”

“Mad?”

“Well, not sometimes, more like a lot of the time. I just can’t stop thinking about doing some of that other stuff Jeff mentioned. The stuff we don’t do.” he bit his lip and held his hands up, “Again, sorry, please don’t be mad.”

Connie took a deep breath to calm her heart pounding in her ears.

“Steven, of course I’m not mad. I, um-“ she covered her face and mumbled into her fingers- “I’ve thought about all those things, too! With you.”

Connie felt the bed shift and his fingertips brushing the back of her hand. When he gently pulled her fingers from her eyes, she saw he was kneeling in front of her. His face was inches from her own.

“Is this-” he breathed, “-Is this ok?”

His eyes shimmered, locked with hers, and then darted down to her lips.

A thrill rushed through her and she answered Steven by closing the distance between them. She was immediately aware of every point of contact his body made with hers, creating pools of tingling, electric heat. His arm twined around her waist, with his other hand cupping her cheek and tangling fingers in her hair. His lips moved slowly against hers, and as she ran her hands up his broad back he sighed and sank into the kiss deeper.

He broke away to gaze at her, with rumpled hair and hooded eyes. Connie’s body responded to the withdrawal by pulling him back to her by his jacket collar, eliciting a satisfying and adorable yelp of surprise from him. She kissed him with all the fervor she’d held back for all their years together. She pushed him into the blankets and pinned him down with her legs, her hands holding his wrists and her lips trailing down his neck. He shuddered with each new contact her lips made with him.

“Connie,” he whispered through a shaking exhale.

“Hmm?” she mumbled in between kisses.

“I’m confused. Does this mean we’re together-together now? It doesn’t have to, I just-”

Connie sat up and rolled her eyes, “Of course we are, you dork. I love you.

He placed his hand on Connie’s as he looked up at her, tears welling in his eyes.

“And I love you. So much.”

They never got around to watching the movie Connie brought over.

[spn-meanttobe]

Summaries Part Two [51-100]

Claiming Info -- FAQs/Rules The first Claims post will be a separate post going up on Saturday, November 7th at 12 pm EST. The second Claims post will be a separate post going up on Sunday, November 8th at 12 pm EST.

51. My Only Vice She's as pretty as a daisy... Sexy, easygoing Rosie Bliss may look like an innocent flower-shop owner, but former vice cop now police chief Sam Maguire is suspicious of the so-called herbs she grows along with her blooms. As sweet as a rose... So the serious detective launches an investigation into Rosie and her very mysterious past. But his most disturbing discovery? He's irresistibly attracted to free-spirited Rosie. And as dangerous as a Venus flytrap! Then cool, controlled Sam accidentally drinks a cup of her special brew and loses it completely! Not only does he end up sleeping with his suspect, he craves more – of Rosie, the most potent drug of all.

52. Night Shadow In a city ruled by fear... A solitary figure shrouded in black walked the night, determined to awaken a terrified metropolis from the nightmare of crime. There was nothing -- no bullets, and certainly not legal technicalities -- that could deter the man they called Nemesis from his mission. Deborah O'Roarke, an idealistic young prosecutor waging her own war against crime, owed Nemesis her very life. She shared his passion for justice, yet she could not accept his lawless methods. Still, though she fought her unwelcome desire for this disturbing stranger, she was unable to deny her longing to share the shadows that were his home.... After the night he saved Deborah O'Roarke from an attacker Nemesis rediscovered the sweet ache of longing. As Gage Guthrie he could woo her. But the idealistic prosecutor abhorred his vigilante approach to crime fighting. So how could he reveal he was the phantom who lurked in the Night Shadow? Fear casts a long shadow....

53. Night Shift Her voice was like whiskey, smooth and potent, but it was her contradictions that fascinated Detective Boyd Fletcher―the vulnerability beneath her tough-as-nails facade. Late-night radio announcer Cilla O'Roarke was being threatened by a caller, and it was Boyd's job to protect her no matter what. But the sultry deejay was getting under his skin, and the undeniable attraction that sizzled between them concerned the detective…because anything could happen on the Night Shift.

54. No Good Duke Goes Unpunished The ruin of the lady means the taming of the scoundrel. A rogue ruined... He is the Killer Duke, accused of murdering Mara Lowe on the eve of her wedding. With no memory of that fateful night, Temple has reigned over the darkest of London's corners for twelve years, wealthy and powerful, but beyond redemption. Until one night, Mara resurfaces, offering the one thing he's dreamed of: absolution. A lady returned... Mara planned never to return to the world from which she'd run, but when her brother falls deep into debt at Temple's exclusive casino, she has no choice but to offer Temple a trade that ends in her returning to society and proving to the world what only she knows...that he is no killer. A scandal revealed... It's a fine trade, until Temple realizes that the lady--and her past--are more than they seem. It will take every bit of his strength to resist the pull of this mysterious, maddening woman who seems willing to risk everything for honor... and to keep from putting himself on the line for love.

55. Once Smitten, Twice Shy Legend claims this antique Irish wedding veil can grant your heart's deepest desire. But be careful what you wish for... Wedding videographer Tish Gallagher is at the end of her rope. Her business is about to go bust. She's just spent her last buck on nonreturnable (but oh so fabulous) shoes. And her most sustainable relationship is with a pint of Häagen-Dazs. So she makes a wish on the lucky wedding veil to get out of debt...and sees the man she never stopped loving, her ex-husband, secret service agent Shane Tremont. Sure, their chemistry was off-the-charts sizzling hot, but their clashes were legendary, and no amount of longing will change that. When her dream job of recording the first daughter's wedding appears out of the blue, Tish knows it's her only shot to get out of the red. Just one teensy glitch: Shane is the groom. From the moment they see each other, she knows nothing's changed - the same old black magic is still between them, as irresistible and potent as ever. But he's promised to another and Tish has been burned before. Will she always be... once smitten, twice shy?

56. One Night with Morelli Warning: one night will never be enough… Draco Morelli: ruthless businessman, adoring father and wary ex-husband. This gorgeous Italian only ever signs up for temporary flings with glamorous women who know the rules of the game. Until he is blindsided by the one woman in all of London not interested in a relationship with him…. Eve Curtis: dedicated workaholic, loyal friend and self-professed singleton. Determined to remain independent, Eve has been happy keeping men at a safe distance. Until now. Because when Draco sweeps her off her feet and into his bedroom, he opens her eyes to a whole new world of sin and seduction!

57. One Night with the Shifter A one-night stand with a werewolf has unexpected consequences. After he is exiled from his pack, Tyee Grayson must learn to make it on his own. But one night with a beautiful stranger who has luminous blue eyes changes everything…. Especially when his instincts shout that she is the one. All elementary school teacher Jessica Brierly wanted was a night on the wild side, but when she finds herself pregnant, all the rules change. Not only does her lover have more secrets than she ever imagined, but suddenly they're both fighting off vampires. When vampires attack the town she dearly loves, Ty must work with his old pack to save them from a ruthless enemy who could kill not only his mate and his unborn child – but the entire human race.

58. One Texas Night Melinda Amery awoke to the double-barreled deep blue eyes of Lieutenant Grady Sloan. A more formidable – or handsome – man she'd never seen. And he wanted answers about a murder. Only, Melinda had none. She had no recall, except she knew nothing good would come from remembering... Grady was the kind of cop who wouldn't let go until he got what he wanted. With his job on the line, he needed to break the case. But the only witness had amnesia – and tormented dark eyes that needed healing. And Grady couldn't help his overwhelming attraction toward Melinda. But would her hidden memories reveal more than either of them wanted to know... ?

59. Pushing the Limits No one knows what happened the night Echo Emerson went from popular girl with jock boyfriend to gossiped-about outsider with "freaky" scars on her arms. Even Echo can't remember the whole truth of that horrible night. All she knows is that she wants everything to go back to normal. But when Noah Hutchins, the smoking-hot, girl-using loner in the black leather jacket, explodes into her life with his tough attitude and surprising understanding, Echo's world shifts in ways she could never have imagined. They should have nothing in common. And with the secrets they both keep, being together is pretty much impossible. Yet the crazy attraction between them refuses to go away. And Echo has to ask herself just how far they can push the limits and what she'll risk for the one guy who might teach her how to love again.

60. Red, White & Royal Blue When his mother became President, Alex Claremont-Diaz was promptly cast as the American equivalent of a young royal. Handsome, charismatic, genius—his image is pure millennial-marketing gold for the White House. There's only one problem: Alex has a beef with the actual prince, Henry, across the pond. And when the tabloids get hold of a photo involving an Alex-Henry altercation, U.S./British relations take a turn for the worse. Heads of family, state, and other handlers devise a plan for damage control: staging a truce between the two rivals. What at first begins as a fake, Instagrammable friendship grows deeper, and more dangerous, than either Alex or Henry could have imagined. Soon Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret romance with a surprisingly unstuffy Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations and begs the question: Can love save the world after all? Where do we find the courage, and the power, to be the people we are meant to be? And how can we learn to let our true colors shine through? Red, White & Royal Blue proves true love isn't always diplomatic.

61. Renegade Protector When intimidation turns to deadly force, it's time for Frontier Justice. If ruthless developers want Mariana Balducci's land, they'll have to kill her for it. And they nearly succeed—until Ty Morrison foils her attacker. The sexy San Francisco cop is part of a secret organization called Frontier Justice. Mariana is tough, but she realizes she can't win this fight alone. And when bullets fly, Ty realizes battling bad guys is easier than fighting their sizzling attraction.

62. Rocky Mountain Wedding Melody Pennington fled to Montana for a new start as a mail-order bride. Gabe Brooks, handsome older brother to the man she was supposed to marry, helps her settle in. But what Melody doesn't expect is to fall for the rugged, closed-off lawman...

63. Romancing the Chef When Veronica Howard is invited to compete in an all-star TV cooking contest, the up-and-coming restaurateur is ready for a fair food fight. Then she discovers who her main competition is: Ace Brown, her friend from culinary school – now the world's hottest celebrity chef. Has she gone from the frying pan right into the fire? Ace Brown – aka the Sexy Chef – knows what women want. After all, recipes for desire are his globe-trotting specialty. Ronnie may not have given him the time of day back in school, but this time Ace is cooking up a surprise she can't resist. Seducing the voluptuous foodie will be his pleasure…until she turns up the heat. With sexual sparks flying, is the footloose bachelor about to become a connoisseur…of love?

64. Rumors that Ruined a Lady Amongst the gossip-hungry ton, no name has become more synonymous with sin than that of Lady Caroline Rider, cast out by her husband and disowned by her family. Rumor has it that the infamous Caro is now seeking oblivion in the opium dens of London! There's only one man who can save her: notorious rake Sebastian Conway, Marquis of Ardhallow. Soon Caro is installed in his country home, warming his bed, but their passion may not be enough to protect them once news of their scandalous arrangement breaks out.

65. Secrets of a Gentleman Escort He's the talk of the ton – for all the wrong reasons! Society's most outrageous – and popular! – escort Nicholas D'Arcy is renowned for his utmost discretion. So when he suddenly finds himself named and shamed by a jealous husband, he reluctantly accepts a summons to the countryside…a fate worse than death! Annorah Price-Ellis isn't what Nick is used to – innocent, feisty and decidedly uncomfortable with the spontaneous heat between them! Suddenly, London's most audacious lover is out of his depth, and in danger of revealing the real man behind the polished facade….

66. Seduced by the Operative For psychologist Claire Cantwell--code name Cyrene--the stakes couldn't be higher. Tapped for a top-secret mission for the president, the OMEGA covert operative needed the unique expertise of a man with whom she'd shared danger--and her bed. Lethally attractive special ops agent and ultra-suave diplomat Luis Esteban wanted more than Claire was ready to give. Now, with their very survival at stake, Claire has to trust Luis with her life... even if that means surrendering the one thing she vowed never to give: her heart.

67. Serendipity Faith Harrington was the classic girl of privilege - until her father was convicted of running a Ponzi scheme and then her marriage crashed and burned. Now Faith is back in her hometown, hoping for a fresh start. But her father's betrayal has rocked Serendipity - and not everyone is ready to welcome her with open arms. Then she runs into her teenage crush - the dark, brooding Ethan Barron. Ethan, no stranger to scandal himself, never imagined he'd own the mansion on the hill, much less ever again come face-to-face with Faith - the princess he once kissed senseless. The chance meeting reignites the electric charge between them. Still, when Ethan hires her to redecorate what was once her childhood home, Faith is sure that getting involved with the town's notorious bad boy will lead only to trouble. But her heart has other ideas. And so do the townspeople of Serendipity...

68. Shades of Desire Natalie Jones is the lucky survivor of an elusive killer who preys on young women and then disappears from view. And since her harrowing ordeal, the once gutsy photojournalist has remained isolated in her home, paralyzed by fear and her failing vision. Special Agent Liam "Mac" McKenzie has scars of his own. But despite his efforts to ignore the attraction that simmers between him and Natalie, he needs her help to catch a predator. Soon, they will forge a tentative alliance, charged with desire. Through a soft-focus lens, Natalie dares to envision a future with Mac beyond the investigation & never guessing that the clues hidden within her photographs are drawing them into an explosive confrontation with a madman.

69. She's Got it Bad Twelve years ago Zoe Ford let Liam Masters break her heart. But now? There's not a chance. Zoe is as tough and wild as they come. So when Liam shows up at her tattoo parlor, she's more than ready to take him on again. That's not going to be a hardship, since he's hotter than he ever was. This time she's staying in charge. And she's not going to consider their score settled until he's hot, bothered and begging for more! Then she'll move on as callously as he left her. Unless all that deliciously bad sex is just too good to give up….

70. Snowbound with the Soldier Maybe this Christmas…? It has been seven long years since Kara Jameson last saw Jason Greene. Returning home as a wounded war hero, Jason looks a shell of the man she once knew. Yet her heart still skips a beat as if it was yesterday…. Stepping back into civilian life, Jason looks to Kara for help. But there's too much water under the bridge – not to mention too much lingering attraction. But it seems that the mountain weather has other ideas, and when Kara and Jason end up snowbound together they are forced to confront the ghosts of Christmas past.

71. Soldier Caged

He'd lost blood and comrades on the world's battlefields, but neither compared to losing his memory. Waking up in a secret military bunker, drugged, with vague images of a mission gone bad, Jonah had nowhere to turn. Until help came in the form of the one woman he'd always remember... Psychologist Sophia Rhodes never got over the bad boy who'd stolen her good-girl heart a decade ago. But without military training, how could she possibly steal Jonah from a high-security facility? She had only one hope--that he'd never forgotten her, either. Sophia knew the breakout was the easy part. Somehow she had to help Jonah focus his hazy images--before a desperate man made sure he'd never remember...

72. Sound Bites Renee Evans has a knack for trouble. After walking in on her best friend and boyfriend in bed together, twenty-five-year-old Renee flees her dream job as a music journalist in sunny Los Angeles and returns to her hometown of Boston – only to meet Dylan Cavallari, the mysterious, aspiring musician who lives in her apartment building. Dylan's piercing gaze and womanizing demeanor make him exactly the type of guy that Renee should steer clear of – which is most likely the reason she falls for him. But when Renee's troublesome ex comes back and threatens to drive her and Dylan apart, Renee is forced to face her past and save her relationship with Dylan before it's too late.

73. Succubus Blues When it comes to jobs in hell, being a succubus seems pretty glamorous. A girl can be anything she wants, the wardrobe is killer, and mortal men will do anything just for a touch. Granted, they often pay with their souls, but why get technical? But Seattle succubus Georgina Kincaid's life is far less exotic. Her boss is a middle-management demon with a thing for John Cusack movies. Her immortal best friends haven't stopped teasing her about the time she shape-shifted into the Demon Goddess getup complete with whip and wings. And she can't have a decent date without sucking away part of the guy's life. At least there's her day job at a local bookstore--free books; all the white chocolate mochas she can drink; and easy access to bestselling, sexy writer, Seth Mortensen, aka He Whom She Would Give Anything to Touch but Can't. But dreaming about Seth will have to wait. Something wicked is at work in Seattle's demon underground. And for once, all of her hot charms and drop-dead one-liners won't help because Georgina's about to discover there are some creatures out there that both heaven and hell want to deny...

74. Tell Me Your Secrets It was a dark and sexy night... And Brooke Ashby knew she was in over her head. As head writer for the soap opera Secrets, she was used to living vicariously through her characters. But that all changed the day she learned she was adopted, and that her identical twin sister had mysteriously disappeared. What else could she do but try to discover what had happened, even if it meant taking her sister's place? It shouldn't be hard. After all, she was good at research and had a talent for acting, if she did say so herself. Her plan seemed foolproof…until Brooke found herself in bed with her sister's fiancé….

75. Temptation's Kiss Patrice Sutton has just landed the role of her career. Snagging the female lead opposite devastatingly handsome, six-foot-three movie idol T. K. McKenna is a dream come true. When she learns they'll be filming out West she's secretly thrilled…and ready to show her gorgeous co-star the ropes of life on the ranch. Until T.K. turns the tables – by initiating her into the art of seduction far from the camera's glare. T.K. knows that with her incredible beauty, talent and sweet sincerity, Patrice has what it takes to make it really big. And the burgeoning film star is showing T.K. a passion more real than anything he's ever experienced on – or off – the screen. But what will it take to prove to her that she's the only woman he'll ever desire…and love?

76. Texas Mom Texas veterinarian Delaney Blair will do anything to find a bone marrow donor for her four-year-old son, Nickolas. The only likely match is his Argentinean father, Dario. But Dario and Delaney didn't part on good terms. In fact, he doesn't even know he has a son! Delaney travels to Argentina to find him, and Dario, shocked, returns to Texas. It's not long before Nick and Dario become close. Not only that, Dario can't hide the feelings he has for Delaney – feelings that have been there since they met. Dario's family doesn't want him to be with her. But now they have to see if the love between them is strong enough to keep them together.

77. The Cajun Cowboy Talk about a bad hair day! Louisiana beauty salon owner Charmaine LeDeux has a loan shark on her tail, and Raoul Lanier, the six-foot-three hunk of testosterone she thought she divorced, has just delivered a bombshell: They're still married! At least the rundown ranch they've inherited together is the perfect hideout. Holy crawfish! It's hard enough for Raoul to play cowboy to a bunch of scrawny steer, let alone suffer the exquisite torture of living with the delectable Charmaine, who's declared herself a born-again virgin. What's a man crazy with desire to do? Seduce her on their home on the range, even if it means taking advice from bachelor ranch hands, Charmaine's belly-dancing great-aunt, and St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes. With the moon shining over the bayou and the Dixie Mafia in hot pursuit, this Cajun cowboy must sweet-talk his way into his wife's arms again...before she unties the knot for good!

78. The Happy Baker We've all been there. The blind date from hell. The Big Hurt. The guy who details his various surgeries over Caesar salad on the first date. Who needs a pint of rocky road when you can head to the kitchen and work out your heartache with a whisk and a bottle of wine? Erin Bolger has been there, dated that and baked through it all. Turns out the more bitter the heartbreak, the sweeter the batter. So don't cry over bad dates, bad boyfriends or bad breakups – whip up a batch of My-Mom-Didn't-Like-You-Anyway Cupcakes and bake yourself happy.

79. The Heist FBI Special Agent Kate O'Hare is known for her fierce dedication and discipline on the job, chasing down the world's most wanted criminals and putting them behind bars. Her boss thinks she is tenacious and ambitious; her friends think she is tough, stubborn, and maybe even a bit obsessed. And while Kate has made quite a name for herself for the past five years the only name she's cared about is Nicolas Fox -- an international crook she wants in more ways than one. Audacious, handsome, and dangerously charming, Nicolas Fox is a natural con man, notorious for running elaborate scams on very high-profile people. At first he did it for the money. Now he does it for the thrill. He knows that the FBI has been hot on his trail -- particularly Kate O'Hare, who has been watching his every move. For Nick, there's no greater rush than being pursued by a beautiful woman... even one who aims to lock him up. But just when it seems that Nicolas Fox has been captured for good, he pulls off his greatest con of all: He convinces the FBI to offer him a job, working side by side with Special Agent Kate O'Hare. Problem is, teaming up to stop a corrupt investment banker who's hiding on a private island in Indonesia is going to test O'Hare's patience and Fox's skill. Not to mention the skills of their ragtag team made up of flamboyant actors, wanted wheelmen, and Kate's dad. High-speed chases, pirates, and Toblerone bars are all in a day's work... if O'Hare and Fox don't kill each other first.

80. The Inn at Eagle Point It's been years since Abby O'Brien Winters set foot in Chesapeake Shores. The Maryland town her father built has too many sad memories and Abby too few spare moments, thanks to her demanding Wall Street career, the crumbling of her marriage and energetic twin daughters. Then one panicked phone call from her youngest sister brings her racing back home to protect Jess's dream of renovating the charming Inn at Eagle Point. But saving the inn from foreclosure means dealing not only with her own fractured family, but also with Trace Riley, the man Abby left ten years ago. Trace can be a roadblock to her plans...or proof that second chances happen in the most unexpected ways.

81. The Klone and I After thirteen years of marriage and two kids, Stephanie was devastated when her husband left her for a younger woman. Suddenly she was alone. Then a spur-of-the-moment trip to Paris changed everything. Peter Baker was a handsome high-tech entrepreneur also visiting the city. Stephanie was certain it couldn't possibly work. But much to her amazement, he contacted her when they returned to New York. And Stephanie embarked on a bizarre and hilarious adventure beyond her wildest dreams. Shy, serious Peter, chairman of a bionic enterprise, was supposed to be away on business. Instead, he's standing at her door, wearing satin and rhinestones. Naturally, Stephanie thinks it's a joke -- until the truth suddenly dawns: this isn't Peter playing a role. This is his double! Calling himself Paul Klone, this wild, uninhibited creature isn't even remotely like Peter except for his identically sexy good looks. This uproarious novel explores the outrageous love triangle that develops between Stephanie, Peter... and The Klone.

82. The Man from Atlantis These days, eligible, attractive, single men weren't exactly coming out of the woodwork! So when Jenna stumbled across a gorgeous male specimen, she couldn't let a mere ten-thousand-year age difference interfere with romance! Besides, everyone knows older men are sexy!

83. The Man With Emerald Eyes A victim of her brother's gambling debts, lovely Theone Danvers had been left to choose between the hell of debtor's prison - and the lecherous arms of the Marquis de Juliers. But Theone was a fiery beauty with a mind of her own. Disguised as a lad, she took to the highroad with smoking pistols, and stole herself a fortune in gold. Then, in the green depths of the forest, she meets a rival - a highwayman with haunting emerald eyes, a price on his head, and a noble secret in his past. They join forces, and Theone rides headlong into the greatest danger of her renegade career: the unquenchable passions of a woman's first love!

84. The Prince Charming List Heather Lowell asked herself this question after moving to Prichett, Wisconsin, to temporarily manage the Cut and Curl Beauty Salon. She's hopeful that this summer she will finally find the love of her life. She even has a list detailing everything she wants in her Prince Charming. But when two men enter her life, Heather suddenly needs to figure out what she really wants – and whether handyman Ian Dexter or rebel-artist Jared Ward figures into her happily ever after.

85. The Ranger Texas Ranger Mitch Striker's uncomplicated bachelor lifestyle suits him just fine: catch the bad guys and move on. But there's nothing straightforward about struggling single mom Brandie Ryland or her adorable four-year-old son, Toby. The beautiful redhead is the prime suspect in Mitch's undercover investigation. But when a hostage standoff leaves Brandie's family vulnerable and uncovers a roomful of contraband and drugs, Mitch second-guesses her involvement in the crime…and his ability to keep his emotional distance. With the danger growing and the clock ticking, Mitch must save Brandie, catch the perps and handle the daddy heartstrings Toby keeps tugging on. Then he'll have to face the secrets he's sure Brandie's keeping – before they become his undoing.

86. The Rose Contract Love is free. Innocence has a price. Raena Barren was born with a secret: of all the magic users in the kingdom of Soma, she is the only one who can hide her power. As a child, she used this magic to help her survive on the streets--until she saved the life of a strange boy called Jorr Portent. He rewarded her with a job in the castle of Soma--and Raena spent the next ten years falling in love with him. But while Raena's life as a servant is sheltered, Jorr's world is one of spies and assassins. When Raena comes of age, their paths will diverge forever… unless Raena can earn a place by his side. To become one of Jorr's operatives, however, Raena must get to know her own body, and outsmart the deadly people around her. She must also sell her innocence to whatever man pays the most… even if that man can't be Jorr.

87. The Secret His Mistress Carried Hiding from the Greek… The ink is barely dry on Giorgios Letsos's divorce papers, but there's only one thing on this unstoppable Greek's mind: finding Billie Smith, his mistress before his marriage. But the sweet, pliable woman he once knew slams the door in his face! Billie fought hard to heal her broken heart after Gio chose to marry someone else. When he storms back into her life, she's determined not to fall for his seduction again. Especially now that she has a secret to protect…their son. But she hadn't counted on just how badly he wants her back in his bed!

88. The Space Between Us Tesla Martin is drifting pleasantly through life, slinging lattes at Morningstar Mocha, enjoying the ebb and flow of caffeine-starved customers, devoted to her cadre of regulars. But none of the bottomless-cup crowd compares with Meredith, a charismatic force of nature who can coax intimate tales from even the shyest of Morningstar's clientele. Caught in Meredith's sensual, irresistible orbit, inexpressibly flattered by the siren's attention, Tesla shares long-buried chapters of her life, holding nothing back. Nothing Meredith proposes seems impossible – not even Tesla sleeping with Meredith's husband, Charlie, while she looks on. After all, it's all in fun, isn't it? In a heartbeat, vulnerable Tesla is swept into a spectacular love triangle. Together, gentle, grounded Charlie and sparkling, maddening Meredith are everything Tesla has ever needed, wanted, or dreamed of, even if no one else on earth understands. They're three against the world. But soon one of the vertices begins pulling away until only two points remain – and the space between them gapes with confusion, with grief and with possibility….

89. The Texas Ranger's Reward Is he seeing double? He can't believe his eyes. When Travis Stillman meets Melissa Dalton, it's as if he's seeing the ghost of his late wife. That explains why his young son warms to Melissa so quickly. The orthopedic therapist is working wonders to help Casey readjust after an accident -- his boy has come alive again. But that's no reason for this former Texas Ranger to let his guard down as he settles into life as a P.I. and single dad. No woman can replace his wife -- especially not one who could be her twin. And when Melissa hires him to investigate a break-in at her family's cabin, he's even more determined to ignore the growing attraction between them. Now he's got to protect both Melissa, and his heart.

90. The Vampire Affair The world knew Michael Brandt as a playboy tycoon. The underworld knew him as a fierce vampire hunter. Armed with a wooden stake and superior strength, Michael targeted the most powerful overlords in a clandestine do-or-die operation...and then tabloid reporter Jessie Morgan uncovered his secret. Only once before had Michael allowed a woman into his secret lair. Now he'd fight heaven and hell to keep Jessie from the same fate. But he couldn't fight the attraction that drew him to her like a bloodlust. An attraction that might prove deadly...or worse. For Michael was going up against the most powerful of the undead--and that vampire had his fangs bared for Jessie.

91. Thief of Hearts An Innocent Beauty. Prim and pampered, Lucinda Snow knew little of men and nothing of danger, until the fog-shrouded night she found herself abducted—and at the mercy of the legendary Captain Doom. Ruthless and mocking, tender and virile, the notorious pirate awakened all Lucy's passionate longings, then abandoned her with nothing but a kiss... A Pirate's Prize. Now safely at home, the alluring waif is tormented by treacherous memories—and by the presence of Gerard Claremont, her mysterious new bodyguard. Everything about him, from his forbidding size to his impertinent manner, sparks her defiance. And even when Gerard's smile turns seductive, no one can make her forget Doom. Yet only when Lucy's path crosses the captain's once more, will she learn who is on a voyage of retribution, and who is out to steal her heart...

92. Things Good Girls Don't Do Good girls don't steal. Good girls don't visit sex shops. Good girls don't have one-night stands. For Katie Conners, being a good girl just isn't worth it anymore. It used to mean getting the life she always wanted. But that was before she got dumped and her ex got engaged to his rebound. So, after a bad day and one too many mojitos, Katie starts making a list of things a girl like her would never do, not in a million years... As a tattoo artist with a monster motorcycle, Chase Trepasso isn't the kind of guy you bring home to mom and dad. And when he finds Katie's list in a bar, he's more than happy to help her check off a few items. Especially the ones on the naughtier side... Katie's more than tempted by Chase's offer, as long as they keep things uncomplicated. But as they spend more time together, she may just wind up breaking the most important rule of all: Good girls don't fall in love with bad boys.

93. This Tender Truce The Boutonnet vineyards, passed down in her family for generations, mean everything to Tory. But she hadn't counted on her grandfather's one condition of her taking over: marry his godson, Chance Mobley. Unfortunately, Tory had decided long ago that she could never truly love the arrogant Frenchman. He had been raised alongside her, and she had loved him once – a child's crush. But Chance has no business being officially inducted into the Boutonnet family, and certainly doesn't deserve her beloved vineyard. As it turns out though, wine might not be the only thing for which Tory has a passion. And Chance has a few things to teach her about love.

94. Undead and Unwed It's been a helluva week for Betsy Taylor. First, she loses her job. Then, to top things off, she's killed in a car accident. But what really bites (besides waking up in the morgue dressed in a pink suit and cheap shoes courtesy of her stepmother) is that she can't seem to stay dead. Every night she rises, with a horrible craving for blood. She's not taking too well to a liquid diet. Worst of all, her new friends have the ridiculous idea that Betsy is the prophesied vampire queen, and they want her help in overthrowing the most obnoxious, power-hungry vampire in five centuries--a badly dressed Bela Lugosi wannabe, natch. Frankly, Betsy couldn't care less about vamp politics, but they have a powerful weapon of persuasion: designer shoes. How can any self-respecting girl say no? But a collection of Ferragamos isn't the only temptation for Betsy. It's just a lot safer than the scrumptious Sinclair--a seductive bloodsucker whose sexy gaze seems as dangerous as a stake through the heart...

95. Unguarded Rhiannon Jenkins is an events planner on the rise. And her latest client, Shawn Emerson, could make her career. Too bad the gorgeous man insists on mixing a lot of pleasure with his business. In Rhiannon's books getting involved with a client is the fastest way to exit a job. So, no. She'll resist all his come-get-me looks and tempting offers. While his charm is easy to overlook, Shawn in the role of confidant and friend breaks down all her best defenses. Suddenly the tables turn and she wants to be close to him. That means opening up about the ugly events of her past – a risk she hasn't taken before now. Oh, but he could be so worth it!

96. Walking Dead For once, Joanne Walker's not out to save the world. She's come to terms with the host of shamanic powers she's been given, her job as a police detective has been relatively calm, and she's got a love life for the first time in memory. Not bad for a woman who started out the year mostly dead. But it's Halloween, and the undead have just crashed Joanne's party. Now, with her mentor Coyote still missing, she has to figure out how to break the spell that has let the ghosts, zombies and even the Wild Hunt come back. Unfortunately, there's no shamanic handbook explaining how to deal with the walking dead. And if they have anything to say about it – which they do – no one's getting out of there alive.

97. What Waits Below Out of the depths... – All her life, Kendra Tremaine had trembled at the very thought of Lynx Lake. She had known even as a child that something unspeakable waited below the surface of the water and she had long sworn never again to set foot on its shore. And yet now she was back to take possession of the family estate that was her unwanted legacy. The legends of Lynx Lake had summoned another visitor, a man of strange powers and dark knowledge. Hart Rainwalker's obsession with the lake's secrets terrified Kendra, even as his brooding passion called to her soul. He claimed only he could protect her from the awful presence that threatened her. But who would protect her from her self-appointed guardian?

98. Wife for Hire The Prospective Husband with a Racy Past... Hank Mallone spotted trouble when she sat down and said she'd marry him! Maggie Toone was a tempting firecracker who'd make his life delightful hell if he let her pretend to be his wife in order to improve his rogue's reputation. Would his harebrained scheme to get a bank loan for his business backfire once Maggie arrived in his small Vermont town and let the gossips take a look? Maggie never expected her employer to be drop-dead handsome, or to affect her like a belt of bourbon on an empty stomach, but she was too intrigued by his offer to say no... and too eager to escape a life that made her feel trapped. The deal was strictly business, both agreed... until Hank turned out to be every fantasy she'd ever had, and Maggie was so bright, funny and downright irresistible that Hank fell head over heels in love! While the town watched, Hank wooed his wife with a charm that had never failed him yet. Could he make her dreams real by proving she belonged in his arms?

99. Wild Heat Sometimes old flames are the hottest of all... In the quaint little town of Cailkirn, Alaska, it's impossible to keep a secret, especially one as juicy as the unexpected return of Kitty Grant. Tack MacKinnon remembers her wild red curls and even wilder spirit-and still feels the sting from when she shattered his heart in college. But there's a pain in Kitty's gorgeous eyes that guts him to the core and Tack is determined to do whatever it takes to see the woman he still loves smile again - even if it means taking on her demons as his own. After fleeing an abusive ex-husband, Kitty decides that the best way to heal her broken heart is to come back home. But she gets a whole new shock when she sees how undeniably sexy Tack has become. More handsome, more muscular, more charming-more everything - he's impossible to resist. Before she knows it, they're reigniting sparks that could set the whole state of Alaska on fire. Yet trust doesn't come easy to Kitty anymore, and as things heat up between her and Tack, she can't help but wonder if one of them is going to get burned...

100. Zombie Moon Caleb Locke lived for one thing — killing zombies. And this man — this legend — was exactly what Samantha Wagner needed. In mist-shrouded alleys, hunted by zombies, haunted by fear, she vowed to find Caleb and convince him to help her. But she hadn't counted on falling in love…. Caleb kept his own secrets — like the one he couldn't hide when the moon was full. But his wolf was drawn to Samantha, recognizing her as his mate. With her in his arms, Caleb reveled in passion… and rued his deception. Would she still love the man who fought by her side if she realized that zombies weren't the only monsters? Samantha would have to make a choice—and she only had till the next full moon.

[books-and-milkshakes]

His lips connected with mine and my mind went blank and for a moment, just a moment I let myself enjoy the kiss

Then my brain started working and thoughts began to fill my head, at the same time he opened his mouth to push his tongue into mine, which I just let happen. I realized at that moment, I had no idea what to do. My body didn’t just take over like all the romance books said. 

Am I supposed to wrestle with his tongue - I think I read that in a book somewhere - or am I supposed to explore his mouth, can I do both simultaneously? 

Where do my hands go? Around his waist or his neck? I know they shouldn’t hang by my side like they are now.

Am I a good kisser? Probably not considering I have no idea what I’m doing. He probably regrets kissing me and is going to make fun of me as soon as we are done.

How long do you have to kiss before it is acceptable to break it off? Is it rude to break it off?

As the kiss went on the panic started rising in her chest.

Betty came storming through the door of the Blue & Gold and plopped down frustrated on the couch, sighing heavily.

Jughead who had been writing an article for the newspaper looked up surprised. He hadn’t expected to see Betty in the office today as she had said that she had an important meeting and wouldn’t have time to write. So Jughead had made himself comfortable with his feet propped up on the desk, something Betty never allowed him to do.

He quickly put his feet back on the floor.

“Everything alright, Betts?”

A grunt was all he got in response, so he decided to push for a bit more information.

“What happened to your all-important meeting?”

Betty sighed some more at that. “It wasn’t as important as I wished.”

That vague answer sounded like the end of the conversation. So Jughead turned his attention back to his laptop, determined to write down a few more sentences before Betty inevitably broke and told him her latest worry. He had known his best friend for a long time now and he knew that Betty had a hard time keeping things to herself. At least around him. He was her confidant, she told him everything that she wouldn’t tell anyone else, not even Veronica. He didn’t mind, in fact he was kind of proud of it.

It was quiet for a while with the only sound being the clicking on Jughead’s laptop and Betty sighing every once in a while as she was staring at the ceiling. Just as he was about to make a sarcastic comment on how normal people breath, she spoke up.

“Juggie, have you ever kissed someone?” she asked softly.

The question came out of nowhere and he looked at Betty, but she was not looking in his direction.

“No,” he answered as coolly as he could.

He was sure Betty knew this though. He had never been interested in romance or physical affection. When they were in middle school, Ethel had a crush on him and had tried to kiss him on a few occasions, but he had dodged every attempt. Ethel moved on quickly when it became clear he didn’t like her like that.

Luckily for him, girls in high school weren’t really interested in him, because of his self proclaimed weirdo persona. Now the only person who would give him physical affection was Betty. He didn’t hate that.

“I just kissed Trev,” Betty said after considering something for a second.

‘Oh,’ was his response. Realising that sounded lame, he added. ‘Guess it didn’t go well?’

Which was probably worse.

However this was apparently all Betty needed to go off. 

“Oh, it was terrible. Trev had asked me out and I said yes, because he is a nice guy and cute. So we went on our date last night and it was fun and easy going, but we didn’t kiss last night,”Betty had stood up from the couch and was pacing through the room.

“Then we saw each other just now and told me that he had an amazing time and that we should definitely do it again and I agreed, because honestly I had a great time. Then he got quiet and stared intensely at me for a moment and then he leaned in and I knew he was going to kiss me, so I closed my eyes as all the romance novels told me to do,” Betty blushed slightly at this confession before continuing. “I leaned in too and we kissed. It was good for a moment, but then I started thinking. Oh god Juggie, my mind was racing and I couldn’t enjoy my first kiss at all, instead I started freaking out and pulled away and made an excuse to escape. I immediately ran here.”

By the time she was done with her monologue she was basically out of breath and clenching her fists. Jughead stood up immediately and took her hands in his own, his fingers against her palms. Betty would sometimes get so lost in her own head, she would break the skin of her palms unintentionally.

A silence settled over them as Betty was starting to calm down. 

“I just feel like I’m going crazy when I can’t even do simple things people my age are experiencing and enjoying,” she whispered after a while.

Jughead angled his head so he could look her in the face.

‘Hey, we’re all crazy,’ he said softly. ‘Besides society puts insane pressure on the first kiss, so worrying about it is normal. People should just skip the first kiss and go straight to the fifth.’

Betty laughed softly at this and Jughead felt good at the sight of Betty’s smile. He knew the way she could start overthinking and sometimes it would lead into a full blown panic attack. He had been witness to it a few times and had since made it his mission to prevent it from happening again.

“Maybe there should be a class where you can practice kissing with no pressure,” Betty continued before sighing. “I feel like a bit of a drama queen. I’m just scared that the next time someone tries to kiss me, I will go back into panic mode.”

An idea flashed into Jugheads mind, an absolutely crazy idea that could possibly destroy their friendship. Something he definitely shouldn’t do.

 “Betts, I have an idea.”

Betty looked up at him. Her big eyes bright and curious.

His thumbs ran circles in her palms as a way to help her relax as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, only for a second before he pulled away.

Betty looked shocked, her eyes even wider than before. Jughead would have laughed at her expression, she looked like a comic book character, if he wasn’t freaking out on the inside. He had no idea why he thought that kissing her now was a good idea, especially considering he had also never kissed someone. Although what he had just done couldn’t really be considered a kiss, it was a peck.

“I thought maybe if I gave you a lowkey kiss then it would erase your horrible first one,” he stammered pathetically. He knew that it didn’t really make sense.

He was about to open his mouth to start apologizing when Betty stood on her tiptoes to give him another peck, this one lasting a second longer before she took a step back. This time her expression was a mix between contemplation and sheer wonder.

Jughead didn’t stop to wonder what those expressions meant though, because he had an impulse to do it again. He let go of her hands and brought his up to her face, placing them on her neck before lowering his head once more and softly brushing his lips against hers.

They stayed like that for a while. Their lips didn’t move against each other, but Betty took a step closer and in the process pressed them closer to each other. Her hands settled on his wrists and they were lost in their own little world.

Until the bell rang, indicating that free period was over. They jumped apart both looking shocked at what they had just done. Betty bent down to grab her bag from the floor.

“Sorry, Juggie. I have to get to class,”she said quickly before basically running out the door, leaving Jughead alone in the Blue and Gold office.

He felt a blush slowly creeping over his face as he registered what had happened in the last few minutes. There was one thing that Jughead had yet to admit to himself. Even though he really wasn’t interested in girls or romance at all, somewhere along the way he had developed a crush on Betty Cooper.

I was going through my old writing documents and found this. My first fanfic. I wrote this after season 1 ended and reading it made me smile, so I decided to publish it. It was supposed to be the first chapter of a multichapter fic.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Reconnected (Becoming Human spinoff)

Request: #172 for anon – “Don’t I know you?”

Anonymous said:

#172 with Taekwoon for your drabble game please.

Pairing: Jung Taekwoon x OC (Choi Yerin)

World: Becoming Human

Genre: robot au / angst / romance

A/N: I was considering a return to Becoming Human recently, and was thinking of what Leo would have felt during the latter parts of this story. It just so happened I had a drabble request with a very connecting prompt, so I knew I had to bring this idea to life. Anon, I hope you don’t mind that this isn’t reader insert!

To understand this spin-off story, you will need to have read Becoming Human first. You can find the masterlist to the story HERE.

Word count: 2224

Leo stared at her silently, his gaze boring into her eyes, searching for answers. Whatever came up in his system didn’t quite seem to make sense and he pushed harder, demanding the files to appear faster the longer she held his gaze.

She felt so familiar and yet he held little information on her.

The basics appeared in his view, displaying her name, age, and position within the company. He knew he had suffered a malfunction recently, the doctors had explained everything to him.

Everything except who Choi Yerin was to him.

When the laboratory went quiet each night, he would lay down on the bed he had been supplied in his makeshift room, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to figure out who she was to him. Yerin’s smiles felt as if they once held much more life within them, as if she had once smiled for him. And the pain that was embedded deep within her gaze was the main reason Leo avidly searched for the truth.

Since no one was really giving it.

“Don’t I know you?” he asked one afternoon and Yerin stopped what she was doing, blinking slowly before turning to face him. He could see it clearly on her face, the hope that had built with this line. Why was she suddenly hopeful? Did she mean more than a simple call-centre employee for this robot facility? She stood, brushing a hand mindlessly through her wild locks, and Leo yearned to reach out to touch the coils of hair himself. He balled his hand up instead, hiding the desire behind his back.

“You once did,” she mentioned, calculated. The emotions of humans when they deliberately withheld information seemed confusing to Leo. Why couldn’t Yerin just admit what she knew? It would definitely decrease the misuse of time.

Yet wasting time with Leo seemed to be Yerin’s forte. She would appear precisely each night after her shift was over, sitting in his room, discussing anything except what he wanted to know.

Who she was still remained a mystery. One, no matter how hard Leo tried, he couldn’t solve. He had deemed the emotion he felt quite often in her company as irony, the definition suiting this situation well. Yerin was here to seek out his remembrance of her, that much Leo had confirmed. Yet not once was she able to give him any clues as to why he should know her. The explanation of once being friends held very little conviction. He had read her emotions intently, and his database of each of them contradicted with the meaning of friendship.

There was more that no one wished to tell.

Leo felt the urge to break free from the shackles humans had placed on him. As a robot that understood the complexity of emotions, he was frustrated by the lack of trust everyone gave him to handle the truth. The doctors were still fascinated by him, his fellow robot friends looked up to him as someone unique. He had deciphered that whilst his superiority was to feel his own set of emotions, he didn’t believe he was some amazing gift to mankind.

Not when he was this troubled by the existence of a certain human.

That frustration grew into resentment. Leo started to dislike the time he spent with Yerin, her avoidance and his inability to seek answers from her only darkening his mood with each passing day. He needed her to stop, to step back and allow him to figure out what he was functioning for. He had spent too many nights thinking of her that now he was unable to consider who he was without her at his side. He knew Kboy robots had masters, his best friend Kang Daniel was owned by Yerin’s boss. There was no distinct ownership inserted into his data, and even the head scientist had confirmed he was the first robot of his kind to exist independently without having one.

Leo decided that it was best Yerin learned to function without him too.

He wanted to say it was easier. In some cases, without the distraction of Yerin in his day, Leo was further capable of completing the tasks set out for him. The growth of the newly improved Kboy system meant he was busier than ever, testing the boundaries of what artificial intelligence meant to modern society. Leo was the face of new thought within sentient beings and his work level increased, as did his accomplishments. He was regarded highly by humans and robots alike.

However, he wasn’t satisfied.

The dreams that had started when still in contact with Yerin grew more vivid. He envisioned fields of wildflowers and endless laughter in between. It didn’t help that the phone he carried around housed images of just that. Leo had once concluded he had created scenarios based on the photos he had analysed, each pixel on the screen transferred to his memory chip as stills. Yet when he closed his eyes, they began to play like a film clip, confusing him of their location, their time period. Even when he learned that this was the art of dreaming, it still made little sense to him.

Why was Yerin still mixed within everything?

“You did amazing today.” Leo glanced up to the scientist that had travelled at his side to Paris, Gunhee smiling at him. “I think we might just get that funding we came here searching for.”

“Searching is a word we use when we’re looking for something. Are we looking for money?”

Gunhee chuckled. “It’s a phrase; it means we came here with ulterior motives I suppose.”

Leo nodded, registering the phrase in the file he had dedicated for Gunhee and his endless preferences in how he spoke. He then smiled himself; humans never worded themselves as straight-forward as they should.

“That reminds me,” Gunhee started and Leo grew aware to the minute change in the scientist’s tone, posture and gaze. He watched as the tall man directed his focus to the wall, instead of at him. “Have you still been searching?”

“For?”

“Yerin.”

Leo froze at the name, the whizzing of his system halting momentarily being the only thing he could register in that moment. When the gears of his mind paused with the image of Yerin’s latest social media post, Leo blinked rapidly, forcing everything to accelerate forward.

“I concluded my search on her months ago, hyung.”

Gunhee nodded in thought, and Leo picked up that the man didn’t seem to accept his answer. Deep down, nor did Leo. The puzzle remained unsolved.

“I better get back to restoring these backup files on my software,” Gunhee announced, picking up his laptop and taking it over to the desk. Leo moved with him, redirecting the device to face him and began looking within the hard drive for what the scientist had mentioned. Within five minutes, he had restored the missing content. Gunhee was impressed. “How did you do that?!”

“You had hidden the file yourself, don’t you remember? Perhaps you stored it there for a time when it would become important to you.”

Leo watched the flush of embarrassment appear on Gunhee’s face, soon halted by another emotion. He deciphered it instantly as recognition. Gunhee turned to Leo sharply. “Do you know what you put on your memory chip?”

“Of course, I have files backed up into the software at the office.”

Gunhee shook his head, dismissing his answer, his round eyes boring into his impatiently. “No, the one you asked me to create for you. Your backup. Before your memory was erased, you asked for a second chip to be installed. Can you access it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking of,” Leo announced after an initial scan of his inner mind. His head hurt and he grasped it with a groan, the scientist letting out a noisy gasp.

“Don’t strain yourself! Doctor Jung will kill me if I break you again.”

“You broke me?”

Gunhee laughed awkwardly. “It’s a long story.”

“One that I will ask of you tomorrow,” Leo decided, heading into the bedroom he had been assigned in the hotel suite and sitting down heavily.

What memory chip was this? He had no recollection of any data outside of what he already stored. As he systematically scanned each driver within his mind, Leo paused when he found and unformatted chip. Had he never assessed himself as in-depth as just now? Or was it really Gunhee’s recognition that prompted this chip to reappear? He set about unlocking it, wondering what it contained.

The answer was overwhelming. The rush of information knocked him back flat on the bed, and a sharp inhale was made to steady his system as it whirled with the content flooding it. He saw snippets of moments all pile on top of the other, tears, happiness, connection, and further understanding.

All connected to Choi Yerin.

He laughed when the last recorded memory played, Leo slowing it down to focus on it.

“Why do you want the chip?” Gunhee asked, holding the tiny device up within a pair of tweezers. “You have ample memory storage as it is.”

“I want to protect what is most precious to me. Lately my head has been aching and I don’t want to risk losing any of it.”

Gunhee smirked. “Yerin means that much to you, huh?”

“Without Yerin, there would be no need for me to exist.”

Yerin always snored when she slept. Although Leo knew there were cures for the sleeping habit, he had never expected such a sound to be as comforting as it was right now. He propped his elbow to hold his head up so he could watch the woman beside him sleep. Smiling, his system recorded every feature on her face for the fifteenth time this evening. Now that he had the love of his existence back, he didn’t want to risk forgetting what she looked like this close ever again. Leo made a point of storing the recording in several places, just to make sure. It was extra effort, but for now, he wasn’t prepared to make the same mistake twice.

As the night wore on, Leo repeated this simple action over and over, ensuring that the way the morning light infiltrating the bedroom hit her face in a new way for him to register. He was certain he would never grow sick of staring at Yerin.

Though he was definitely starting to feel low in battery from not using the bed to charge in like she had.

Yerin began to stir from her dreams and Leo smiled in anticipation. He made no attempt to hurry the process along. He had to record all of this too.

When her eyes opened, she let out a soft groan. “Did you not sleep?”

“I was busy.”

“You have the rest of my life to make sure you memorise everything about me, couldn’t you take the time to sleep when I did?” she chastised, though he could tell when she reached to cup his cheek within her hand that she was touched by the gesture.

In fact, Yerin’s body temperature indicated she was generally very content right now. He remembered just how much he loved the contradiction of her statements to her body language and grinned.

“Will that be another rule to make?” Leo wondered, referring back to the conversation they had yesterday over their reunion. He relished the instant flashback to the first time she had mentioned the word house rules to him. He had been in this bed with her and the memory continued to flow through the recording, a chuckle leaving him when he heard himself address Yerin’s wild hair.

Yerin raised an eyebrow. “You’re recollecting.”

“I’m enjoying myself.”

“Including my messy hair?”

Leo grinned once more. “How did you know?”

“I think you forget that I have those same memories you finally have access to as well.”

Leo pulled her into his arms, nuzzling in deeply. “Not as clearly as I do.”

“So maybe I should make you record it onto some discs so we can watch over our love story together some day.”

“That actually sounds like a good idea.”

“Leo!” Yerin cried, shaking her head as he reached to settle some of the wild mess of her hair in the process. “You can’t do that. I don’t ever want to know how you have recorded me.”

“Really? My sources show most females in a relationship like to know distinctively what their partner thinks of them,” he told her, matter-of-fact, and Yerin sat up, still shaking her head. He whined, her body was now too far away from his and he liked her warmth far too much.

“Maybe having you back in my life will be too much of a burden.”

“Not what you were screaming out last night,” he quipped and she gasped, heat flooding her cheeks. Chuckling, Leo placed a couple of kisses on her bare arm before glancing back up at her. “You already know how I view you, don’t you?”

The ghost of a smile that crossed her lips confirmed that she did. But Leo knew Yerin liked to be told it out loud too. She was expectant for his next sentence and so he sat up, smiling at her before he uttered it.

“I chose you.”

_________________

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[VIXX Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[elizabethhollowswriting-blog]

COURTING ME SOFTLY, LGBT ROMANCE - CHAPTER 4

Here is the latest update, enjoy!

Title: Courting Me Softly

Rating: Majority T, but eventual M with NSFW scenes in certain chapters

Genre/s: Homosexual Romance, Developing Romance, Friends to Lovers, Historical Romance, Courtship, Demi-Sexual Character

Setting: 1920’s

Wordcount: 37k

Chapters: Prologue + 7 chapters

Update Schedule: Once every two weeks. Chance of updating every week.

Status: Complete

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3

When James and Charles finally disembarked from the ship and reached James’ family, his mother cupped James’ hands and then his cheek. “James, my dear,” she greeted, relieved to have him returned safely. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to be back, mother,” he told her softly.

She smiled before dropping her gloved hands from his. Frederick was quick to clasp James’ hand next and shake it before pulling him into a hug that almost knocked the wind out of James. Frederick was stockier than James, taking after their father in build but with black hair and short stature like their mother.

“You were gone too long,” Frederick grumbled; always having disregarded propriety when it came to his older brother and it always warmed James’ heart to see and hear it. It made James think that if his brother ever learned about his sexuality... well, he hoped it meant that Frederick wouldn’t think any less of him. His brother’s regard was something he couldn’t bear to lose.

Pushing that thought to the side, James just hugged his younger brother back. “I’ve missed you too, Freddie.”

When he let James go and stepped back, it allowed everyone’s attention to draw towards the man at James’ side. Charles had stood back, watching the display with a small grin, but when he became the centre of everyone’s focus, he just flashed a bright, charming smile.

“Mother, Frederick,” James began, “this is my friend Charles Keaton from New York. Charles this is my younger brother Frederick, and my mother, Helen.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Charles greeted them; shaking Frederick’s offered hand firmly before bending down to lightly kiss the back of Helen’s. James could see his mother repressing a smile while Frederick was outright beaming.

James could see the dozens of questions in his family’s eyes as they appraised Charles, but James made a point of distracting them with discussions about their luggage, queries about what car they would be taking back to the family estate and how his father was. James was grateful when they were quickly swept up in getting everything settled for the drive back to the estate. Frederick had driven down with their mother while the family chauffeur had followed in another car; he would take the luggage back to their estate while Frederick would take them all home. Charles had initially offered to let Helen sit in the back with James but she waved him off, patting his hand and telling Charles to sit with James. When she took her place in the front of the car, James quietly explained that while his mother did not ever wish to drive, she enjoyed automobiles and preferred to watch the scenery unfold before her. She was, in many ways, caught between two times; favouring much of the traditions of the past, but intrigued by the ingenuity of the future. Helen was a kind, softly spoken woman with a sharp mind. Her black hair might be greying and she might have gained additional weight as she aged; but she was still as elegant and intelligent as ever.

Taking their seats together in the back, James pointedly left space between the two of them and if Charles noticed, he made sure not to draw any attention to it. Frederick started the engine the moment everyone was seated and begun their departure from the docks. Frederick waited until the bustle and noise of the dock and nearby port town had passed before he asked, “Is this your first time in England, Mr Keaton?”

“Charles, please,” Charles insisted. “And this is the first time that counts,” Charles answered, flicking his gaze to James before back to Frederick and Helen. “I made the crossing with my parents when I was young.”

“Well, James and I will have to show you a good time!” Frederick enthused.

It found James torn between affection that his brother wished to get to know Charles and frustration that his brother would be interfering with his time with the other man. He supposed it would be useful for Frederick to entertain Charles while James was speaking with their father but he still wished to covet his time with Charles. Unfortunately, James knew it wasn’t practical; his father was eager to discuss the family business and James’ inheritance. It was something they’d been speaking of for the past five years and his father was finally beginning to accept that James did not want the responsibility, publicity and forced propriety that would come with being the Farwell heir. James still hoped that settling things with his father would take no more than a week, allowing him to take Charles to London for a few days before heading on to Paris. It forced him to accept Frederick’s presence as inevitable, and to use it to his advantage.

It was why James requested, “I’d hoped you might be able to show Charles the local sights while I’m speaking with father and visiting the factories.” James flicked his attention to Charles, offering him a smile. “I’ll warn you now never to accept a challenge from my brother. Frederick will only make a bet if he is sure of the outcome.”

Their mother laughed softly while Frederick made a sound of outrage even as he was trying to force down a grin. “What slander! Just because you have never beaten me, James!”

“No one has,” James teased. “I’m sure your friends would attest to it as well.”

Their mother laughed warmly once again and she was joined by Charles who was grinning softly as he looked between James and Frederick. James almost got distracted by Charles; he was relaxed, amused and fond and it was enough to make his heart skip - but James had spent his entire life hiding his interest in men. It meant he could force his gaze away and to his legs, the scenery outside and eventually back to the front of the car.

“How is father?” James asked to distract them. “What has happened since we last spoke?”

“Precious little in the past three weeks,” Frederick answered. “I’m sure your voyage and last week in New York were more exciting.”

That they were, James thought but didn’t say, his mind flooding with memories of Charles and everything that had happened since his confession.

“But your father is well,” his mother answered. “He looks forward to speaking with you regarding your time abroad.” James nodded, but before he could respond, his mother was continuing, shifting just enough to better see them both, “We are all interested to know more about your time there and your new friendship.”

“There is little to tell,” James answered keeping his voice casual. “Society in New York is hard to escape and Charles and I have surprisingly similar tastes.”

“You mean you do not suffer a fool, Charles?” Frederick teased. “And you prefer to avoid a good party for a quiet drink?”

“Yes,” Charles agreed although he was also smirking, “although we did meet due to my attempt to throw a more lavish party than James.”

Frederick let out a sound of surprise while Helen just looked entertained. James tried to suppress a grin as he shared a secretive look with Charles. Their time in the speakeasies, after all, should be avoided, but the tale of Luke Harrison and Charlie Keaton? Well, that was easy to adopt as the truth.

--

The rest of the drive to the estate was filled with grand recounts of some of the more lavish parties that they had attended in New York. James’ mother took to shaking her head at them with amusement and exasperation while Frederick was laughing and constantly demanding to know more. He mourned that he wasn’t there to share such wonderful evenings with them, but he declared that he would see the English equivalent while Charles was staying.

James had shaken his head at his brother, trying to assure him that they’d both had their fill of wild, mad parties where items were broken, scandalous behaviour was witnessed, people were arrested and the music just kept on playing despite the ordeals happening from one room to the other.

When they arrived at the house, Frederick was no less persuaded to refrain from throwing a party but he was distracted by Charles’ first sight of the Farwell manor. The house was set on a large acreage with manicured gardens. It struck an imposing, but beautiful figure. The building of it was started by James grandfather and finished by his father. Where New York and Charles’ own family mansion had a sense of the new and modern; the Farwell home was done in the classical, old architecture styles. It was a place that seemed at odds with the new, roaring future, but James father, Dale, was a keen futurist; fascinated by and investing in new inventions and technology. His grandfather had started a line of men who saw the changing of times as an exciting prospect for development and a place to gain knowledge and wealth. The house and grounds might be coated in propriety and tradition, but behind its walls, the Farwell family only had an eye for the future.

When Frederick parked the car in front of the building, the servants were quick to rush out, hurrying to look after them but Helen waved most of them over to the second car to assist with the luggage. She was soon pulling off her gloves and smiling at Charles who was looking at both the house and the grounds. When he was finished and had faced her and Frederick again, he gave her a smile. “You have a wonderful house, Mrs Farwell.”

“Helen,” she gently chastised but before she could say more, there was a new person stepping out of the house.

James couldn’t stop his smile at seeing his father. Dale Farwell hadn’t changed much since James had last seen him. His father was large man; tall and strong, with a thick moustache. He was wearing a brown, bespoke suit and his large smile shone with warmth and affection. He moved towards them and pulled James into a hug without hesitance, making James smile and hug his father back, smelling pipe smoke and feeling an innate sense of home wash over him.

Pulling back, his father clasped James’ upper arm and shrewdly looked him up and down. “Good to see you have not wasted away on American shores,” his father told him. His voice was sharp and to the point, as always; he could seem brusque, but Dale was still kind. He was a busy man and had little time for pleasantries. He saw no point in a conversation that didn’t have a benefit - the only person who was an exception to this rule was James’ mother. He would always soften around her and listen to whatever she wished to say, but his father was lucky in that Helen rarely had something uninteresting to discuss.

Grinning faintly, James answered “No, father.”

His father made a small grunt of approval. “Next time, we expect you to write and telephone more.”

Unwilling to argue, he agreed modestly, “Yes, father.”

His father gave a nod before turning his attention to Charles. “And you must be the American.”

“Charles Keaton,” Charles answered promptly while holding out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Dale grinned before taking Charles’ hand in a firm, hearty shake before asking, “I hear you’re in business as well, Charles?”

“My father was the businessman, sir,” Charles answered with an almost sheepish smile. “I find what opportunities I can to continue his legacy.”

Dale gave a soft but approving laugh. “The goal of any son.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Enough of that,” Dale dismissed gruffly. “Dale will be fine.”

It looked as if his father might say more, but Helen came to stand beside him, taking Dale’s arm and making James’ father turn to her instantly. “Come along, dear, we should allow Charles and James a moment to recover from their voyage.” Her eyes were gently laughing at her husband. “At least allow them to step inside the warmth of the house.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Dale agreed, shifting to better accommodate his wife’s hold.

“We’ll have tea and coffee;” Helen suggested while leading him and the others inside, “some light refreshment as we discuss their journey.”

“Excellent, my dear,” Dale complimented her, smiling down at his wife as they walked into the house. Frederick was grinning widely at James right while Charles had a softer smile at James’ left. Standing in the middle and behind his parents, James breathed in the familiar comforts of home with the addition of the man he loved who was being easily and openly welcomed. It made James’ feel incredibly warm, relieved and happy.

--

Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last.

Charles was adored by James’ family; his mother treating Charles like an additional son in need of mothering. She also liked to discuss America with him; a place she’d never been nor ever expected she would visit, but was curious about nonetheless. Dale engaged him in vigorous discussions on business practices in America as well as his own thoughts and theories on technology, philanthropy and the new age. When Charles proved himself as a sharp mind with similar opinions to Dale, James’ father quickly took to slapping Charles back with rough affection and drawing him into the same debates that involved James and Frederick when a new idea or investment had presented itself and he sought opinions on its viability.

Frederick, however, was the one to spend the most time with Charles. Frederick took him out shooting on the grounds; he also took him driving around the countryside, introduced him to Frederick’s friends and kept him entertained every time James was required to visit the factories and speak with his father about the expansion to America and the rest of Europe.

It quickly meant that James barely got to see or speak to Charles in private. They got a few minutes together before dinner and they often discussed their days in the parlour but it was frequently interrupted by Frederick wanting to play cards with them or Dale grousing about articles he had read in the paper. His mother would usually retire early for the evening, but sometimes even she would sit and talk with them. On the rare occasion that there was no one else in the room, James was still required to remain a polite distance apart from Charles for fear of someone stepping into the room and discovering them.

Charles had sent him more than a few regretful looks, managing to brush a hand over the back of James’ only twice during their entire stay and only for mere seconds before he was pulling away and they were speaking about their day. Charles was enjoying himself, at least, he adored both of James’ parents and thought Frederick was a wonderful and entertaining companion.

James was grateful that everything was going so well, but he was also frustrated; incredibly, painfully frustrated that his relationship with Charles was on hold as they contended with James’ family. James loved them all, but he wanted to be alone with Charles. Their time on the ship had been chaste, but they had still been able to close the distance between each other, allowing Charles to welcome his touch. James now found himself tossing in bed, frustrated and missing the long evenings spent together with the possibility of a ghosting touch, his fingers running through Charles’ hair and, perhaps, if he were lucky, another, coveted kiss.

He was trying to be subtle in his restless longing. He was also trying to rush through his business obligations in order for them to leave for France. His father, however, was aware of his distraction even if he misinterpreted the cause.

They had been looking over plans to upgrade one of their factories with new, promising technology. James had been staring at the designs but hardly seeing them; his mind torn between what Charles was doing and how long he would continue to be content waiting at the manor until James’ business was completed.

He was roused from his thoughts by his father’s hand coming down heavily on his shoulder. He startled and turned to the other man, seeing his father’s wry expression. “You have no interest in this, James.”

“It’s a good investment, father,” James hurried to protest. “It will temporarily disrupt work but, in the long run-”

“No,” his father interrupted firmly, making James fall silent. “Business is not for you.”

James swallowed thickly and his eyes flicked away in lingering guilt. He had been telling his father as much for ten years, but his words had always been quiet, nervous; a lingering shame at being unable to be the son and heir his father wanted. Dale had always brushed aside his concerns, mistaking them for insecurity in his own abilities, but as James had become older and shied even more from his responsibilities, his father had finally started to take greater notice.

He’d known it was coming, that they would need to discuss it, but James still couldn’t look at his father. “I’m happy to advise Frederick and assist him if he is ever in need of me...”

“But you wish him to be the heir,” his father answered softly.

“He is far more suited than I,” James hurried to assure. “He is bright and personable. He has helped you while I have been abroad and he only socialises as much as he does because he knows he is not needed. He-”

“James,” his father said, using the same, gentle tone, so at odds with his normal voice. “It is important for my heir to wish to be my heir. It is also important that my son is happy.” He squeezed James’ shoulder again. “You have no need to fear my disappointment for admitting you do not want something. You are a fine man and I will always be proud.”

Swallowing, James voice came out a little thick as he whispered, “Thank you, father.”

His father lightly and affectionately shook his shoulder before pulling away. “Now,” he began, back to his usual brusque tone. “I know you plan to show Charles the beauty of Europe, but when you are through, I expect you to return and assist me with familiarising and training Frederick for his inheritance.”

The thought made James’ breath catch. He’d always known he would have a role in assisting Frederick if his father accepted his younger brother as the new heir, but the addition of Charles made everything uncertain. If Charles discovered he could not be with James and returned to America, the family manor would be both a comfort and a bane; a reminder of the man he would never have and the support of his family who he could never tell the truth to. Yet, if Charles could be with James, if the other man became his lover and partner, it posed a different problem. How could he explain Charles’ continued presence? Would Charles even wish to return to the manor when they would have no time alone and be unable to express their deeper relationship where anyone could see? Would Charles merely remain in Paris or return to America to settle his affairs? Would he wish for James to move back to America with him once he had settled Frederick in his new role?

The questions were endless and there was no way to answer them, not until James knew where he and Charles stood. It meant that, for now, he could only accept his father’s request and wait to see if the cards would deal in his favour, or against. “Of course, father,” James agreed, turning to the other man. “When will you tell, Frederick?”

His father’s eyes were sparking with faint amusement. “He will know tonight and start making himself useful.”

James couldn’t help letting out a soft chuckle at his father’s light tease. He did still have to hope that when his younger brother was told the news that he would be accepting of it, the last thing James wanted to do was leave his father without an heir and to give his brother a responsibility that he didn’t want.

--

When they returned to the manor later that afternoon, their father pulled Frederick aside and into his study to speak with him. Charles and Frederick had been concerned and confused, but when James had explained to Charles, the older man had given him a warm pat on the back, his hand lingering a few moments too long as his thumb lightly stroked his back in comfort before he pulled away.

Charles had stayed with him, talking softly about his day with Frederick as James waited nervously in the hall. When the door opened and Frederick stepped out still looking shocked, Charles had politely excused himself and left the two brothers to talk. They had moved into another room rather than linger in the hallways and the moment the door was closed, Frederick asked him, “James, are you certain about this?”

He was almost wringing his hands and James brought a hand to his brother’s arm. “I have not wanted to be the heir for most of my life, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell father.” James hesitated, feeling unsure. “I hope you don’t resent the responsibility-”

“No!” Frederick hurriedly insisted, his own hand coming up to clasp James’ arm. “I... I’m honoured and flattered that you believe I am capable.”

“Of course you are, Freddie,” James told him gently. “You’ve always been just as capable as me, and far more suited to the position.” He smiled. “And you won’t be alone; I will always be available to assist you. Where you would have been my right hand of the company, I shall now be yours.”

Frederick looked both humbled and grateful, but from one blink to the next, something bright and determined took its place. He squeezed James’ arm tightly and promised, “I will make you proud, James; you and father.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” James assured him, and a moment later, Frederick was hugging him tightly, wrapping him in a rough and excited embrace that James happily returned, feeling beyond relieved that Frederick was eager to fill the role that James had vacated.

When they broke apart, they were quick to step out of the room to find their parents. They found Charles, Helen and Dale all talking in the study and when they entered, Helen let out a happy exclamation before rushing to cup Frederick’s cheeks and hug him. She also did the same to James moments later before declaring the evening a time of celebration. Charles came over and shook Frederick’s hand, congratulating him and giving James a soft smile when no one was looking.

The night itself involved champagne, a lovely dinner and a few of Frederick’s friends coming over to celebrate with them. They had all met Charles and were glad to see James again. It was a night of alcohol, cigars, laughter and music, but it was still private and intimate as Frederick flushed and grinned under the attention and praise. When the evening ended hours later, Frederick’s friends were staying in guest rooms and everyone was tired and slightly tipsy. James and Charles had made their way towards their rooms together; the halls were quiet and dark with the servants long dismissed and sleeping for the night. There was no one around as they lingered by Charles’ bedroom door. James knew he was looking at Charles with far too much affection, but with the hallway deserted and enough alcohol consumed, he could only smile down at the other man.

“I am glad my family like you, Charles,” James told him softly.

“I like them too,” Charles told him. “They are wonderful people.”

Staring down at Charles, so handsome and close, James was wise enough to glance around the hall to make certain it was empty before lightly raising his hand and stroking a thumb over Charles’ jaw, making the other man’s eyes flutter closed. James just sighed gently but longingly.

“I still hope we can leave soon,” he admitted.

Charles’ eyes opened and he licked his lips, glancing up and down the hall before opening his door and lightly tugging James inside. James eyes widened in surprise, but Charles simply pressed James against the hurriedly closed door and lightly slotted their mouths together. James let out a soft groan and cupped the other man’s cheeks, holding him close even when the kiss only lasted for a few stolen moments before Charles pulled back.

He grinned at James from where their faces rested inches apart. “I hope we leave soon too, James.”

James wanted to kiss him again, more than anything, but they both knew that they couldn’t risk it; not in his family’s home, not surrounded by people who could work out the nature of their relationship at any moment. James groaned, this time for a far less enjoyable reason before letting Charles go and allowing the other man to step back and away.

Sighing, James told him, “Goodnight, Charles.”

The other man smiled sadly. “Goodnight, James.”

Turning quickly, James opened the door and looked around the hall, but no one was present and he hurried to leave and head to his own room.  While he walked, James’ mind continued to linger on Charles; the memory of his lips brushing James’, the warmth of his skin, and the yearning to share more with the other man.  

It made James determined to leave Farwell manor within the next few days.

Next Part

Isn’t James’ family just lovely? I hope you enjoyed meeting them!

The next part will be uploaded in two weeks, or if the story is well received, I might be persuaded to update it in a week. So please reply, reblog and like this post! The more people are keen to hear more, the sooner I’ll be uploading more prose!

And, if you enjoyed my writing and would like to see more, please consider supporting me by checking out and/or purchasing my self-published novels and telling your friends!

Every purchase helps me to fund my career as a full time writer (meaning more content can be generated) and every review, ask and reblog helps me know what kind of genres/tropes you’d prefer to see written.

Thank you to everyone who reads my work and continues to support me!

[sobriquett]

Dear Yuletide Author

Dear my wonderful Yuletide author,

Isn’t it the most magical time of year? What follows is possibly information overload but, apart from my one big DNW, I want you to write something you’ll enjoy, and I’ll enjoy it too.

I like gen or romance; I love women in starring roles; I adore gut-clenching, heart-in-throat angst, although I’m also partial to fluff; I like happy endings, unhappy endings, happily for now but ultimately doomed and everyone knows it endings. I love missing scenes that reveal more about a character or alternate perspectives of canon events. Above all, I love close-canon AU/canon divergence – a story with a clear point of departure that explores an alternative ‘what if’ sort of scenario within the rules of that world.

Basically, I love any story that makes use of the characters’ context and takes advantage of it. The social, historical, political, cultural context is what makes me interested in particular characters and relationships – how they react to the opportunities, restrictions and spoken or unspoken rules of their worlds.

My one big DNW: please don’t take the characters out of their context (no coffee shop AU/high school AU/modern AU/omegaverse AU, etc.) – I prefer either canon-compliant fic or close-canon AU, just something that fits into its source’s universe.

My other do-not-want is graphic depictions of (physical) torture or mutilation – if I can imagine it in cinema quality and I wince, no thank you. That doesn’t mean bad things can’t happen – violence and terror is a way of life for some of the passengers on Snowpiercer, for example, and Nobu has been badly injured in the past – but I would prefer it not to be gratuitous or too vividly described. (Violence is fine, if appropriate, it’s just torture and mutilation/permanent damage that’s not.) Anything else goes.

In terms of sexual content: if that works for you, I am there for it. I am happy with a fic at any rating and any degree of explicit-ness. I’ve listed my letter under Yuleporn before with details of interests and DNWs, I may do again this year. If you want to write something that way out this year, look here. (If I write a 2020 letter, I’ll edit to add that later.)

Fandom 1: Victoria (TV)

William Lamb 2nd Viscount Melbourne, Queen Victoria

I loved the first season of this show. I haven’t actually seen the rest of it but, for these two characters, I don’t think that matters. Oh, the shippy feels I had that autumn…

I know this relationship wouldn’t work, could never work, for at least fifteen thousand reasons, but God, I want it to. (Not least that actual Melbourne is forty years older than Victoria; I’m totally there for older man/younger woman but that’s a little extreme.) My pie-in-the-sky weeping-with-joy dream fic would explore the constitutional consequences of them saying ‘oh fuck it’ and getting married, or being forced to by circumstance. (Can queens have shotgun weddings?) I’d also enjoy fic about the method and consequences of them enjoying a more formal ‘companionship’. Don’t worry if it gets messy and ends badly, just tell me what happens.

Alternatively, and I admit more realistically, any of that period drama not-quite-touching not-quite-saying-what-they-mean thing – and Melbourne’s a master of that – absolutely delights me, or those moments they spend alone where they get just a little bit closer and they’re only talking in metaphors but you just know they have feelings – I have feelings, we all have feelings, so many feelings. Or, perhaps, they move past all of that and subtext becomes text – smutty, romantic, whatever, as long as that relationship that’s canonically played out in carefully chosen words, extended metaphors and difficult flowers gets to become a tangible something.

If shippy fic is not your thing here, then I’d ask you to explore the mentor relationship between them. Melbourne is Victoria’s teacher in many ways, but he also has ghosts of his own to haunt him. They have both been deeply unhappy for a long time until they first meet. What joy do they find in each other and their friendship?

Fandom 2: Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden

Toshikazu Nobu

Nobu’s appearances are the high points of the novel for me and I love the curious balance of bickering and mutual respect that characterises his relationship with Sayuri. (Nobu/Sayuri is my rarest and dearest of rarepairs.) However, Sayuri wasn’t nominated and so I can’t request that, so I have a completely open mind. I would be delighted to know more about Nobu’s relationship with any of the other characters, nominated or otherwise, or even simply his own thoughts and his personal history.

Neither Sayuri nor Nobu seem to have known much kindness in their life; I like to think they’d find that in each other, sort of kindred spirits. I would enjoy more of their wit, kindness and mutual respect in any form.

Both place importance on the kindness of the Chairman. Nobu and the Chairman have been friends for such a long time, and it seems a complex friendship worth exploring – mutual respect and obligation, trust and reliance. And the triangle between Sayuri, Nobu and the Chairman is a strange, fragile thing. Each pair has such a strong bond, each of the three relationships so different from one another.

Nobu is perhaps second only to Mameha in the degree of his influence over Sayuri’s career. They are both intelligent, independent survivors in their respective worlds (teahouses, factories, okiyas, battlefields) but neither is totally free nor happy and I would enjoy seeing their interaction or one’s perspective on the other.

Do Nobu and the Baron ever meet? I’d like to imagine they have quite different philosophies regarding the role of these women in their lives, but perhaps they’re more similar than we think.

If Hatsumomo is your girl, I’m sure she and Nobu have some strong opinions on one another and have met at one time or another.

I always enjoy fic in this fandom; you can’t go wrong.

Fandom 3: Snowpiercer (TV)

Any character(s)

I haven’t requested any particular characters because I have no preference; I also have no ship preferences, canonical or otherwise. I’m most fascinated by the design of the train – that is, the way everything is interconnected and interdependent in terms of resources and the associated peril. Also, I’m fascinated by the social design of the train – the class structure and the differences in privilege, as well as the mobility or lack thereof between classes, and the difference between what is and what was intended (or not). What strain, exactly, do the Tailies put on the train’s resources? They weren’t part of the physical or social design.

Above, I requested no graphic descriptions of torture or mutilation. I recognise that violence and mutilation is canon here, so if it’s going to add your story please don’t let my DNW stop you as long as it’s not gratuitous. This is a dark and dangerous world, so your fic could easily be dark and dangerous too. On the other hand, perhaps you might explore a moment of joy or relief in the darkness instead.

Please, explore this world in any way you like – any character, any ship. The setting – the train – is the star for me. If there’s something in particular that resonates for you, please use it.

Fandom 4: Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte

Jane Eyre

As problematic as it may be in some ways, this has been one of my favourite novels since I was quite young.

I enjoy Jane’s relationship with Rochester and would happily read anything on the subject at any point in the timeline. I would also happily read more about her relationship with any of the other characters in her life, nominated or otherwise.

I love exploring the historical contexts of my fandoms and pushing their boundaries. What would have happened if the wedding hadn’t been interrupted in time? Please, go as dark as you like (or not, maybe they get an early HEA), but consider Jane’s morality and the prevailing mores of the time. What if Rochester had died in the fire at Thornfield? How does Jane respond and what direction does her life take? What if the night after the wedding, before Jane ran away, had gone differently – what if she yields, against her character and reason, runs away with Rochester after all? Or merely succumbs to his physical advances? I enjoy a Victorian fallen woman tale, it’s a difficult life and it pushes all my buttons of following the society’s rules/angst/exploring consequences/angst.

Of course, while these fics could happily be written as devoutly Jane/Rochester fics, please feel free to make him the villain, or at least less-than-a-hero. If he corrupts Jane and damages her spiritually or physically, by all means explore the consequences – do they come back from it, or does their love fail?

If you just don’t want to write Rochester at all, I’m especially curious about Jane’s relationship with Mrs Fairfax, both during the timeline of the novel and after. Jane feels such affection and warmth towards Mrs Fairfax, how does she mark this? How do they spend their time together? Are they reunited post-canon? They are the closest thing to peers at Thornfield, as ladies but both dependents, but there is a gulf in age, experience, outlook and temperament between the two.

But I could also happily read about Jane and Adele, during or after the novel, or Jane and her grown-up cousins, or Jane and Bessie, or Jane and the Rivers siblings. If you use, feature or push the context of the novel in any way, the boundaries and rules of Jane’s world, I will be delighted.

[birdofdoom]

Cinderella pt.2

This is a continuation of Cinderella. Michael and the reader meet in the Eden Club to a rough start only to have friendship and romance kindle later on.

Michael x Reader

The sweetness of his clove cigarette hung in her mouth and stained her clothes. She couldn’t help but love the way it tasted and hugged her senses with the smell of him. [Y/N] felt as if she had been played. The beautiful boy with jade eyes was dishonest. It was easy to fall for the princely type; all looks and class. His charm had bought her trust in the moment, leaving her feeling foolishly naïve. She was put off and angered that she was the punch line to some crude joke, but it didn’t stop her from wanting him to follow her out of the lively club. In spite of herself, the liar sitting in her former booth still fascinated her. She knew it was childish, running away just to be chased, but remembered there was nothing wrong with wanting to be wanted. As she retrieved her oversized woolen coat from the check, she saw him make his way to the crowd of men he arrived with. To preserve her pride she refused to look back, but could hear a fist slamming against the table. Soon voices were raised, and she could make out the brassy tambour of the mustachioed man in conflict with that of Prince Charming. Undoubtedly dissatisfied with his inability to land a one-night fling, the green-eyed boy was throwing a fit. [Y/N] smirked at the thought of his childish irritation.

“Delightful,” she silently mused.

The winter air was a sharp contrast to the heat of the club. She wrapped herself snuggly in the hand-me-down coat, bracing against the frigid chill. She stood in the portico entrance of the lounge pondering a plan of action. Although [Y/N] was new to the city, she was no fool. She knew she wouldn’t be safe walking alone at that hour. Unfortunately, her splurge from earlier in the night had eaten into her cab fair. The wind was piercing, and the London streets were heavy-set with fog. The milky darkness of the night was enveloping, enchanting the streetlamps into ghoulish forms. She bristled against a villainously cold gust of air. Her nearly spent cigarette bobbed in the wind, the cherry’s light casting oddly dancing shadows on her face. The cold breeze licked her stocking legs with goose bumps. She sniffled. Her nose, red and numb, was beginning to run. The illusion of [Y/N] as a posh girl from a wealthy home had dissipated with the glow of the stage lights. In an old jacket, two sizes too big, shivering, snot dribbling from her nose, she could feel the ache of the clock striking midnight. A jazz princess no more, [Y/N] knew she would return to her dull, working life early in the morning, most likely to never hear from Prince Charming again.  

In her icy discomfort, she ruefully decided to bite the bullet and walk home alone. Crossing the puddle lined street, she shoved her hands into her pockets. The cool metal of her apartment keys jangled in the lining of her coat, and her satin covered T-straps made a satisfying clack against the aged cobblestones. She had barely begun her journey when the beautiful boy ran out of the club in a huff.  

“HEY MISS…” he hollered after her. She continued to walk, keeping her head down, indulging her growing pride and ignoring him “POSH GIRL…! Oi!...  …Cinderella?” he implored. “C’mon, you can’t go alone. Let me walk you home.”

She smiled to herself before retaining composure and turning to face him. He had left the club in a hurry and was without his coat. He sighed with relief and hustled to meet her across the street. He shivered in the sharpness of the winter air. Cupping his hands, he blew into them attempting, fruitlessly, to generate heat. In spite of herself, [Y/N] was staring at him again. Feeling her eyes on him, he laughed nervously. She felt her mouth curl into a smug smile. They walked down the empty streets hearing only the echoes of their shoes hitting stone. 

As time past, she [Y/N]’s curiosity festered. She could no longer keep her questions bottled up. “So, Mr. Man With a Thousand Faces, care to explain yourself?” Sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “I’m sure your name slip up wasn’t some juvenile bet or attempt to woo the pants off of me after coercing me into a drunken stupor.” Her tone had shifted from playful to accusatory. “Is that why you bought me a drink? Is that why you’re walking me home? What are you playing at?” The horror of the thought gripped her and she couldn’t hide the disgust on her face. They had been walking for only a brief while, yet they had covered a few blocks’ distance. She looked worriedly around the familiar street. It was empty, save for her and the liar. Her stomach lurched, and adrenaline rushed through her as she imagined what was to come. “My brother’s waiting for me at home. He’ll notice if I’m not back soon,” she said unconvincingly. [Y/N] briskly took two steps in front of the charmer as to distance herself from a possible attack. She aggressively threw her spent cigarette to the ground and stamped it out with the heel of her silver shoe. Her lie was obvious; the show of hostility with the cigarette, the too-fast delivery of words, each one tripping over the other in a rush to leave her mouth. He could see the familiar pattern of panic setting into her eyes.

“Michael…” he breathed. “My name’s Michael…” he sounded defeated; the admission a conciliatory attempt to assuage her fears. Michael opened his mouth as if to speak, but fell silent. His throat was dry and he felt embarrassed that he had been caught in a lie. His pride was wounded from his failure to court her in the lounge, but his cheeks seared even more deeply with shame as he thought over his reasoning for lying to the young girl. She was pretty and innocent looking, and he didn’t want to taint something so pure with the mention of the Shelby name.

He internally questioned when he had become so jaded. He was accustomed to his work with Shelby Brothers Ltd. In his role as Chief Accountant, he had dealt with more than just numbers. In the moments that he had taken lives or given beatings, he gleaned an understanding of fear. Always the clever boy, Michael had learned that lies and terror manifest into ghosts in peoples’ eyes. He knew the way people looked before they died. He knew how their eyes became accusatory and hurt, how they stammered and searched for words that never came, how they implored mercy from a god that he knew didn’t exist. In spite of his small attempt to calm her, the ghost in [Y/N]’s eyes lingered. Hurt to be accused of such villainy, Michael’s beautiful face contorted. He knit his eyebrows up into a concerned expression. “Right, I know it doesn’t look good…” 

“Damn straight!” she jabbed.

“I’m a Shelby!” he snapped. “Happy? That’s why I couldn’t tell you.” He pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it. Taking an excessively long drag, he exhaled the smoke exasperatedly.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means I’m a member of the Shelby family.”

“You say that like it’s supposed to matter to me, but it doesn’t. Who the hell are the Shelbys? You landed-gentry or something?”

He snorted. The thought of the Shelbys as lords and ladies was ridiculous. “No, pet, definitely not.” He smiled, pushing the thought of his mother at a high society gala out of his mind “You really are new around here, Cinderella.” 

She was growing fond of the pet name. “So what if I am? Enlighten me. What does it mean to be a Shelby?”

“It means…” he paused for consideration. “It means we are involved in some sensitive business of an unsavory sort. We have money, but we worked for it. We fought and clawed our way through the muck for our standing.” [Y/N] could sense the duality of pride and shame in his voice; the pleasure of rising to good fortune, and the guilt of doing so through cruelty.

“Oh, so you’re a gangster,” she posited bluntly.

“Chief accountant actually,” he corrected.

She laughed. “Oh well, that’s fine then. As long as you’re good with numbers, it's not really criminal.” He laughed in turn. The fear and tension that had fallen so thickly upon them seconds before were beginning to ease.

“Jesus Christ, it’s cold,” he shivered. “How far did you walk for a drink?”

“It’s not much further,” [Y/N] promised. “I just wanted a change of pace for tonight, something special.”

“What’s so special about tonight?”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I know you’re miffed, but to be fair, Henry is also kinda my name.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Middle name or something like that?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m sorry for overreacting then, it’s just…”

“No, if I was a girl, I’d be fucking scared of me too.” His mouth curled smugly into a smirk.

“I wasn’t afraid of you particularly, just the idea of men. It’s not as if you’re terrifying. I mean, Christ, you’re such a pretty-boy. Probably never done a day of honest labor in your life or even been in a real fight.” His cheeks peaked with color at being called pretty, but irritation soon followed.

“I’ve fought plenty…” His tone was flat and cold like the night air. She nodded in acceptance and knew to drop that particular line of conversation.

They continued silently through the opacity of the London smog. Her feet ached in her seldom worn T-straps. She could feel the beginnings of blisters brewing on the back of her heels along her Achilles tendon. She paused, bending down to rub them gingerly. The stylish silk slippers had eaten a hole in her left stocking and a run inched its way up her calf as they finished their walk. She sighed with disappointment, more money down the drain. She looked up with relief recognizing the building to the left. 

“Well, this is me,” she gestured to the dilapidated brownstone.

“Huh.” He blew out a cloud of smoke.

“What?”

“It’s just not what I imagined.”

“Well it’s just me so this is what I can afford.”

“What about your brother? Doesn’t he help out?” Her eyes widened, remembering the emptiness of her earlier lie. He laughed. “I knew it was a fib, just wanted some payback from how you strung me out in The Eden.” She blushed.

“Look, I know you’re cold. Would you like to come up for some tea to warm up? I don’t have much, but it’s the least I can do to thank you for walking me home.”

[Y/N] unlocked the creaky oak door. Light spilled out of the entrance and Michael could feel the heat of neighboring furnaces from other apartments call his name.

“Just the tea then,” he accepted.

... TBC

[cthroughthelookingglass]

Love & π - Review

Ok, so... I never write reviews for the dramas I watch mainly because there are only 2 dramas that have made it into my 10/10 list. One is “I Remember You” (If you haven’t watched that masterpiece... what are you waiting for?) and the other is, yeah, you guessed it: Love & π. 

FAIR WARNING: This drama is not for everyone. If you don’t like it when the main leads fall in love after years of growing up together, this is not for you. If you don’t like flawed characters who make stupid mistakes and decisions, this is not for you. If you don’t like a bit of melo in your slice of life, this is not for you.  

                                                     SPOILERS!!

I’m cool with all those things because I believe they gave this drama the emotional punch and realistic feel it has. I like realistic and layered characters with flaws. That’s what we all are, to be honest: a bunch of walking flaws and bad decisions. 

QUICK SUMMARY

Yuan Yuan, Wu Xian and Hou Zi grow up in the same orphanage and are inseparable. After they come off age, the 3 of them decide to head to Taipei in order to start their new lives. WX and YY get accepted in college, while HZ chooses not to study and let the school of life teach him everything there is to know. YY’s main reason for being in Taipei is not really her studies, though. What YY wants the most is to conquer Taipei before her mother does, because she resents her for abandoning her in the middle of the park when she was a child. YY’s bio mom had expressed that this was her dream, and YY wants to take it away from her as a way of getting back at her. Oh, yes, YY has serious abandonment issues that she struggles with. HZ and WX are more focused on their personal growth than their pasts, though. They seem to have accepted their situation and don’t let it affect their minds and emotions. While they want to move forward, YY is stuck in the past. Regardless, they initially support YY and stand by her when she lets them. As the years go by, however, YY gets absorbed by her need for revenge and starts making questionable decisions at work which, in turn, piss off the always by the book WX. Needless to say, this drives a wedge between the two of them.   

YUAN YUAN (Ivy Shao)

The story of our main girl opens by introducing a cartoon adaptation of the story of “The Little Match Girl” by Hans C. Andersen. You think you know how the cartoon is gonna end, until the tale takes an unexpected turn...

Oh. Hello there, Zhao Yuan Man! You’re about to become one of my favorite heroines ever. 

As you may have noticed YM is the type of girl who thinks outside the box and refuses to settle for less than what she considers fair. She thought the match girl shouldn’t die because the cruelty she was suffering wasn’t fair, and made her a rich inventor with a happy ending instead. Even after everyone mocked her “for not knowing the real ending”, she stood up for herself and told them: This is my imaginary scenario, and no one gets to mess with it. YM is ambitious. She relentlessly fights for what she believes and wants if she believes it’s fair. The downside of this type of personality is that strong convictions can easily deviate into plain stubborness, and YM was a hard nut to crack at times. I loved watching her struggle with her job and with her life as a whole. She wasn’t a Mary Sue or a Wonder Woman. She was real and her struggles were as real as she was.  

WU XIAN (Ben Wu)

There’s the Yang to YY’s Yin. One wants to change the world while the other wants things to stay the same. WX is a bit of a know-it-all and he can get a bit self-righteous from time to time, but he’s kind, protective, and loving towards YY. The guy just lurves her since they were children because he both admires and fears her brilliant and ambitious personality. He’s the papa bear of the group, and is always worrying for his friends and sacrificing himself for them... until he gets fed up, that is. I honestly don’t blame him when he basically tells them to shove it, because he was entitled to his anger and both YY and HZ were screwing up big time when it happened.

HOU ZI (Daniel Chen)

Yep, you guessed it. This is the couple’s counsellor. He’s grown up with them (They were from an orphanage. I forgot to mention that!) and is their main supporter. Hou Zi (aka Monkey) is such a special and lovable guy. He loves his friends and wants the best for them as he faces a myriad of issues throughout the drama. One of his most poignant moments is when he falls for a girl who is in love with WX, and slowly drifts apart from him because he can’t stand seeing them together. Yeah, I know, I wouldn’t trade my friends for a crush, but HZ felt betrayed when WX decided to give himself an opportunity with Ruo Yun in order to get over his break up with YY. It’s understandable from both perspectives. Both were hurt and both felt betrayed and affected by the entire ordeal. WX was entitled to date RY because she had made it clear to HZ that she didn’t like him. HZ was entitled to his frustration because WX was blatantly using RY to get over his true love, YY. RY was just cool with getting used as long as WX acknowledged her, so there’s that mess. It felt like a punch in the gut because their friendship was precious, but that’s as true to life as it can get, and it felt strangely refreshing watching WX not sacrifice himself for a change.        

THE ROMANCE

There are points in the story when you don’t really know if YY and WX will be able to meet halfway, and find a way to handle their strong differences. They lock horns in more than one occasion, grow tired of each other, let go very easily.  WX figures out how to stop YY from pushing him away, and decides to stick it out till the end as proof that he will not abandon her like her mother did. YY is a bit of a porcupine, though. She gives the poor guy a hard time and breaks his heart in more than one occasion, ultimately “abandoning” him herself.  

It takes years of distance, evolution and growth until they are finally on the same page. WX realizes that if he truly wants to be with YY, he has to be able to see eye to eye with her and deal with their conflicts maturely. YY realizes that WX only has her best interest at heart. She eventually understands why he grows increasingly frustrated with her when she self-destructs, and how hard it’s for him to see her get hurt by her own actions. 

Don’t you just love it when the leads in your drama have these kinds of breakthroughs? The idea of change is one of the main themes in this drama. Are you supposed to be the same forever? How does society change us? Is it okay to change? Which are the kind of changes that are really worth it?   

WX was right... back when they dated for the first time, they were an unbalanced see-saw. He was a bit judgy and she was very stubborn. They needed to evolve more to be able to stand in each other’s shoes and truly understand what the other was feeling.

Wu Xian: “Don’t push me away. Okay? I was wrong. I was too weak. I thought I was taking responsibility by doing what I did before. I hurt everyone because I never had courage all along. But now I’m different. I love you. From the first day we met until now. When you are happy, I am happy. If you’re sad, I am sad. All of my emotions are dictated by you. You taught me what love is. Do you remember when you asked me why I had never asked about my birth or wondered about my parents? It’s because of you. You made me feel that as long as you were with me, there wasn’t anything missing in my life. If losing those things, was the price to pay for meeting you, I’m okay with that."   

The scene when they get back together in the last episode is just so freaking powerful. The chemistry is through the roof (BW & IS worked together before in “The Perfect Match” but he was the annoying second lead, and I wasn’t aware of their power to warm my heart). Anyway, let’s go straight to the point. No matter what happens during the story, WX always wants to be YY’s hand warmers whenever this “little match girl” faces a freezing cold winter. Even when they are heading in opposite directions they manage to remain inseparable and bounce back to each other.

Ugh, I’m such a sucker for brilliant metaphors and well inserted intertextual components. Props to this writer for the outstanding and seamless weaving of these elements throughout the entire drama. I’m just in awe. This is good and carefully planned writing, people.     

                                                                         final score: 10/10 💛

[theblogspotdotcom]

5 Reasons You Shouldn't Feel Bad About Not Talking To Toxic Parents

ByGABRIELLE MOSS

Sept 23 2015



The last time I heard my mom's voice, she was cussing me out on my voicemail. I hadn't heard it for a few months prior at that point — I was in the middle of my third or fourth attempt to stop talking to my mother, and I'd made a practice of not listening to her hurtful voice messages, reading her emails, or opening her letters. Just overhearing the muffled sound of her agitated voice, as my boyfriend listened to the voicemail for me, was enough to ruin my day. But it also helped me confirm that not talking to my mother was still the right decision for me.

If you're reading this, then know that not talking to a parent or other family member might be the right choice for you, too. Maybe you're an old hand at not talking (or going "no contact," as it is sometimes called). Maybe you just stopped talking to a toxic parent yesterday. Or maybe you're just beginning to consider the idea that limiting your contact with a family member who manipulates, guilts, or otherwise emotionally harms you might make life better. No matter what phase you're in, you've likely received a lot of pushback, both from your parent and the world at large, about your decisions. Friends might be confused, or even tell you that you're selfish ( a sentiment that the toxic family member whom you've disconnected from has almost definitely seconded).

And the judgment doesn't stop with people you know. If you Google the phrase "not talking to my parents," you'll primarily find resources aimed at soothing parents who have been cut off — or, at the very least, aimed at shaming children who did the cutting off. Most major articles about kids who are estranged from their parents, like this 2012 article from AARP, take the parent's side, accepting their confusion about why their child cut off contact at face value, and judging the child for being self-absorbed.

To use some extremely serious journalistic terminology right now: uh, no. If you've stopped talking to a parent, it's probably a struggle every day to keep doing it. But you shouldn't feel guilty or bad about the decision, should you make it. Here are five reasons why.

1. You're Doing What's Right For You

Odds are that you didn't come to this decision lightly. Despite what many "experts" would have you believe, we actually live in a world that makes it as difficult as possible to cut off communication with a family member, especially a parent. So actually taking this step probably means that your relationship with your parent was so toxic that you felt like you had no other option.

Of course, some people will be unable to believe this. They legitimately can't imagine anything "bad enough" to cause someone to stop speaking to a family member.

But that's OK. Your life is not limited by what your friends, co-workers, or other family members can imagine. Your choices don't have to be relatable to your roommate or best friend in order to be right for you. You're the one who knows exactly how interacting with this family member hurts you. You're the only one who has to live with the aftershocks of maintaining this relationship, and so you're the only one whose experience matters when deciding what to do.

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2. You're Not Alone

While you may feel like you're the only person on earth who's had to deal with something like this, you're not. And while a quick Google may primarily reveal materials aimed at parents who have been cut off, the Internet is actually chock-full of support communities for folks with toxic parents, including those who have broken contact with them.

I've personally found Reddit's raisedbynarcissists community to be a godsend — just reading posts by people who have had the kind of experiences that were once a part of my daily life with my mother (but are beyond the wildest reaches of most of my friends' imaginations) really helps me, and reminds me that I've made the right choice.

There are great books out there on this subject, too — the recent Mothers Who Can't Love by Susan Forward (who also wrote the classic self-help volume Toxic Parents) was immensely helpful for me.

There are also tons of great personal essays out there about being estranged from parents, which can help you feel comforted and understood. I recently read an excellent one by Katja Bak on Medium; the takeaway beautifully distilled the struggle of the estranged child: "It’s okay to let go of your family. Society tells us that family is number one in your life — they come first ... They would do anything for you, and you would do anything for them. It’s not always the case. The truth is, they are just people. They are not infallible. They are not perfect. They can be bad, and cruel, and toxic — despite being your blood. And it’s okay to walk away. It’s okay. It is okay."

3. You're The Best Judge Of What Happened (Or Is Happening) To You

Emotionally abusive or manipulative parents often make a practice of constantly questioning their child's reality and experiences. Our childhoods were full of moments of being told that problematic parental behavior "never happened," that a problem our parent created doesn't matter because they "did the best they could," or that an event that traumatized us "didn't happen like that."

Telling someone that the things they remember didn't happen is a tool of emotional control called "gaslighting" — and a lot of people who cut off contact with their parents have been gaslighted so hard and for so long that they barely have a handle on reality sometimes. In my own life, my mother and I were the only people in our home, and thus, all our conflicts were her word against mine. When my word conflicted with hers, she went to great efforts to proclaim that my memory was cloudy or that I was a liar — to the point where today, at 33, I barely trust my own memory of where I left my keys, let alone my memories of interacting with other human beings.

As you can imagine, trusting my memory of my mother's hurtful behavior was pretty difficult. But I got there eventually. Not all children who have toxic parents were gaslighted, but many were. Your parents may have done it on purpose, or they may have done it simply because they had mental health issues or other problems that kept them from being able to empathize with you or see any perspective besides their own.

But your experiences are real. Just because your parents claim that they "did the best they could" doesn't mean that they actually did — and even if they did, the fact that they did their best doesn't mean that you are obligated to be emotionally wounded by them for the rest of their life. You know best how your relationship with your parents impacts your life.

4. You Can Find Your Own Support System

The idea that pushing away your family means that no one will ever love or support you is a common threat used against children who are trying to cut off contact, but it is very, very untrue. If anything, ending a relationship with a toxic parent (and the toxic love that they provide) may give you an opening in your life to accept genuine love and support for the first time.

In my own life, my mother's love had a stranglehold on me; she regularly made sure to do everything she could to sabotage my friendships, romances, and professional relationships. Despite her threats that no one would ever care about me besides her, I found that building a life apart from her allowed me to find a real network of friends, and a truly loving boyfriend, for the first time.

Your new support system can be anyone — a "chosen family" of friends, a partner, members of an online or real-life support group, a sympathetic and understanding therapist — as long as they get it. And you will find someone who gets it. A good therapist, in particular, is trained to understand things about human relationships and families that might be hard for other people to hear, so they can be a great place to start when building your support network. But remember: You're not crazy for feeling this way, and someone else is going to understand.

5. You May Talk Again Some Day

This may be a good thing — your parents are willing to try to develop a healthy relationship! Hooray! Or it may be a bad thing (i.e. you initiate contact because you miss them, and end up opening every wound you've healed in your time of no contact). But not talking to a parent does not often last forever.

You can use this to soothe yourself if you feel bad about it, but you should also keep it in mind if you initiate contact and end up regretting it. Wanting to be in contact with a parent is a very natural urge, and you shouldn't blame yourself if this urge motivates you to do something that is ultimately bad for you.

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Though I've been actively putting distance between my mother and myself for nearly a decade, I've also re-initiated contact with her a number of times — because I was worried about her health, because I felt lonely, because I wanted to see our aging family dog. Yes, things got out of control almost immediately every time, and I regretted reaching out, but we need to be easy on ourselves when stuff like this happens. It's not your fault for hoping or wanting — and it's also not a mark against you if it doesn't work out.

So remember, no matter what, that you're not nuts and you're not alone. No one — not even the people who birthed you — are automatically entitled to your time or energy if they hurt you.

[vintagestyled-blog]

Last Thursday night I  re-watched Kevin Smith’s Chasing Amy,  and as expected it moved me as if I was watching it for the first time around. Chasing Amy is listed as a romantic comedy but it fits a few more boxes than just that. It’s drama, it’s romantic,  and it’s seriously funny…

  “Smith knows that at some level there’s nothing funny about being in love: It’s a dead serious business, in which your entire being is at risk.” aka movie critic Robert Ebert.

Or also : “Love is the province of the brave.” aka rockband  TV on the radio.

The movie is abundant with sharp, ironic and sexual dialogue. Kevin Smiths dialogues are the best in the field as the main characters explore their feelings and point of view on topics such as romance,  sex and friendship.

Holden (Ben Affleck) and Banky (Jason Lee) are two comic book artists living in New Jersey who are signing their cult novel “Bluntman and Chonic” ( featuring the adventures of Smiths characters Jay and Silent Bob). There Holden meets Alyssa ( Joey Lauren Adams), also a writer, and is immediately smitten by her. She invites him to a party. By this Holden offcourse assumes that she has mutual feelings for him. When Alysa sings a song at the party in a rather erotic way and kisses the girl she was singing it to Holdens world is chattered. Nevertheless, he likes her so much that he decides to give the whole friendship thing a try.

As his feelings grow deeper for her he can’t keep quit any longer :

“Why are we stopping? Because I can’t take this. Can’t take what? I love you. You love me? I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we’re great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I’m sure that’s what you’ll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can’t, I can’t look into your eyes without feeling that, that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can’t talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship – no pun intended – but I had to say it, because I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can’t hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn’t allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I’ll accept that. But I know…I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. All I ask, please, is that you just, you just not dismiss that – and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn’t another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I’m with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can’t deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I’m forever changed because of who you are and what you’ve meant to me, which – while I do appreciate it – I’d never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.”

And, like it ought to be in EVERY ( ha ha)  romantic movie, she runs out of the car in the rain. He follows her. She decides that saying that he loves her is about the most selfish thing he did. He walks up to the car, she runs after him and guess what-  they kiss in a very, may I even say, smokingly hot, way. Alyssa explains how she felt when she made the decision to love people in a certain way, and the way she loves Holden…

Alyssa: You know, I didn’t just heed what I was taught, men and women should be together, it’s the natural way, that kind of thing. I’m not with you because of what family, society, life tried to instill in me from day one. The way the world is, how seldom it is that you meet that one person who just *gets* you – it’s so rare. My parents didn’t really have it. There were no examples set for me in the world of male-female relationships. And to cut oneself off from finding that person, to immediately halve your options by eliminating the possibility of finding that one person within your own gender, that just seemed stupid to me. So I didn’t. But then you came along. You, the one least likely. I mean, you were a guy.

Holden: Still am.

Alyssa: And while I was falling for you I put a ceiling on that, because you *were* a guy. Until I remembered why I opened the door to women in the first place: to not limit the likelihood of finding that one person who’d complement me so completely. So here we are. I was thorough when I looked for you. And I feel justified lying in your arms, ’cause I got here on my own terms, and I have no question there was some place I didn’t look. And for me that makes all the difference.

Holden: [pause] Well, can I at least tell people all you needed was some serious deep dicking?

  So they are now a couple, but then Banky, Holden’s best friend and roommate, might be secretly in love with Holden ( still following?)  He tells Holden how they called Allysa “finger cuffs” in high school and how a friend of him told him she had sex with two guys at the same time. Holden, who until then believed he was the only guy she had sex with ( according to his definition of it) begins to doubt himself. He confronts Allysa and they break up.

Then Silent Bob breaks his silence in the diner:

Silent Bob: So there’s me and Amy, and we’re all inseparable, right? Just big time in love. And then four months down the road, the idiot gear kicks in, and I ask about the ex-boyfriend. Which, as we all know, is a really dumb move. But you know how it is: you don’t wanna know, but you just have to, right? Stupid guy bullshit. So, anyway, she starts telling me about him… how they fell in love, and how they went out for a couple of years, and how they lived together, her mother likes me better, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah… and I’m okay. But then she drops the bomb on me, and the bomb is this: it seems that a couple of times, while they were going out, he brought some people to bed with them. Ménage à trois, I believe it’s called. Now this just blows my mind, right? I mean, I am not used to this sort of thing. I mean, I was raised Catholic, for God’s sake.

Jay: Saint Shithead.

[Silent Bob elbows him; Jay motions as if to start a fight]

Silent Bob: Do something.

[to Holden]

Silent Bob: So I’m totally weirded out by this, right? And then I just start blasting her. Like… I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling, so I figure the best way is by calling her a slut, right? And tell her she was used. I’m… I’m out for blood. I really wanna hurt this girl. I’m like, “What the fuck is your problem?”, right? And she’s just all calmly trying to tell me, like, it was that time and it was that place and she doesn’t think she should apologize because she doesn’t feel that she’s done anything wrong. I’m like, “Oh, really?” That’s when I look her straight in the eye, I tell her it’s over. I walk.

Jay: Fuckin’ A!

Silent Bob: No, idiot. It was a mistake. I didn’t hate her. I wasn’t disgusted with her. I was afraid. At that moment, I felt small, like… like I’d lacked experience, like I’d never be on her level, like I’d never be enough for her or something like that, you know what I’m saying? But, what I did not get, she didn’t care. She wasn’t looking for that guy anymore. She was… she was looking for me, for the Bob. But, uh, by the time I figure this all out, it was too late, man. She moved on, and all I had to show for it was some foolish pride, which then gave way to regret. She was the girl, I know that now. But I pushed her away. So, I’ve spent every day since then chasing Amy… so to speak.

[after a long silent pause]

Jay: Oh, enough of this fuckin’ melodrama!

[to Holden]

Jay: My advice, forget her, dude. There’s one bitch in the world, one with many faces.

[to Silent Bob]

Jay: Get up tons of fun.

[back to Holden]

Jay: We gotta book. We’re catching a bus to Chi-town.

Holden realises he was wrong all along.  Will it be too late, or not?

  And In the fashion department….Alyssa wears mostly see through tops, wide legged jeans, wide t-shirts with a print, big jeans jackets and flanel shirts. This style defined the nineties, it has made it’s comeback and is till relevant in 2018.

If you want to adapt Alyssa’s nineties style, I think it’s crucial to blend the key elements of that style with contemporary pieces. This style, my dear friends, can also to be found in the Netflix show LOVE, where the character Mickey blends nineties with ease. Or it could also just mean that you’ll have to re-watch Dawsons creek.

But first let me give you a quick reminder of what nineties fashion looks like:

Flared jeans

Chokers

Hoop earrings

Crop tops

Overalls

Scrunchies

90-ties shoes like Birckenstocks and Doc-Martens

If you were in to hiphop, this was generally marked by oversized saggy trousers and sweaters, combined with lots of ‘ fake’ gold and Kangol hats. Oh and Timberlands.

If you were in to grunge, you generally wore cut of shorts with ripped black panties underneath a crop top and a flannel shirt. And doc Martens. Or you could go for the classic ripped jeans or the slip dress.

I bet you know what I mean. Because, if you are here, you are somewhat into fashion. But just incase. I’ll show you the pretty pictures anyway 🙂

  Some cool facts about Chasing Amy:

In Japan, the screenplay of Chasing Amy was adapted into a novel by Kenichi Eguchi and published by Aoyama Publishing. The unique concept of the book is that it is roughly half-novel, half-manga, with Moyoko Anno providing the art for the comic book pages.[25] In an episode of SModcast, Smith revealed that while he was thrilled to have a manga based on his film, he was shocked when he read the novelization, as the characters’ sexual histories, which are just mentioned in conversation in the film, are depicted in the novel’s manga illustrations as very sexually graphic flashbacks. (Source Wikipedia) When Kevin Smith wrote the script he was dating Joey Lauren Adams and was inspired by her.

Chasing Amy is part of Kevins Askewniverse series. Each movie in this series crosses over with other films of the universe. Alyssa is name dropped in Smith’s Clerks and also appears in Mallrats. The key figures of this universe are the characters Jay and Silent Bob two drugdealers are extremely talented in not minding their own business.

Other funny quotes:

Holden: So, uh, what do you wanna do tonight?

Banky Edwards: I dunno. Get a pizza, watch “Degrassi Jr. High”.

Holden: You got a weird thing for Canadian melodrama.

Banky Edwards: I got a weird thing for girls who say, “Aboot.”

Banky Edwards: [to Alyssa] Since you like chicks, right, do you just look at yourself naked in the mirror all the time?

Jay: So why the long face, Horse? Banky on the rag?

Holden: I’m just, ahh, I’m just havin’ a little girl trouble.

Jay: Bitch pressin’ charges? I get that a lot.

    Love, Maureen

  Filmstyle ” Chasing Amy”- nineties revisited Last Thursday night I  re-watched Kevin Smith’s Chasing Amy,  and as expected it moved me as if I was watching it for the first time around.

[smellofparchment-blog]

The Pariahs: Chapter 1 - Outcasts

Story Title - The Pariahs (ffn link)

Story Description - "You always hated your parents' purist crap." "Not for the right reasons." - At the end of the war, they are the only ones left to blame; unfortunately, this is not their cross to bear. The Malfoys and Greengrasses are not used to being the outcasts of a society, but in this new Wizarding World, the law concerning former Death Eaters and their families is clear: eat or be eaten.

Story Rating - teen (T)

Story Characters - Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Keegan Shacklebolt (OMC), Fiona Greengrass (OFC), Archibald Greengrass (OMC), Narcissa Black, Lucius Malfoy, Kristopher Shacklebolt I (OMC), Zhara Shacklebolt (OFC), Audrey Weasley, Percy Weasley

Story Pairings - Draco/Astoria, Keegan/Daphne

Chapter - 1) Outcasts

Daphne let out a small sigh as she peered through the crack of the slightly opened door. She could just barely make out a form sitting in the armchair by the fireplace - a mess of light blonde hair sticking up, a bony hand gripping a glass filled with clear liquid (that she knew very well was not water). As Daphne stood still for a moment, watching him, all that could be heard was the cracking of wood as a fire burned in the fireplace and the anxious tapping of a foot.

Deciding she had bided her time for long enough, Daphne gently pushed the door to the library open and winced as it let out a horrible creak. Draco's head snapped towards the sound and a scowl set on his face when he saw who had just entered the library. He turned away in silence, setting his gaze on the roaring fire once again.

Discouraged but not surprised, Daphne approached him and sat on the ottoman across from him. She watched him carefully, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, which were a touch bloodshot, his wrinkled shirt, and his unkempt hair. Slowly, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip, still refusing to look at her.

This was not the Draco Malfoy she knew.

"I miss you, you know," she finally said, once it had become obvious that he would much rather pretend she wasn't there.

Surprisingly, he responded. "I'm right here," he snapped.

"No, you're not."

Again, he turned to her with a scowl. Daphne steeled herself and remained unfazed.

"Seriously, Draco - I don't recognize you," she continued, her tone a bit softer now.

Her nose is buried in a book. Not just any book - a torrid romance novel she stole from Mother's library before leaving for Hogwarts. Not at all befitting for a twelve year-old, surely, but in that case her mother really ought to hide these things better. Ideally, the woman would never notice it was gone or forget all about it come December. Of course, Daphne did consider the possibility that her mother would both notice and remember to scold her daughter by the holidays, but she will deal with that if it comes down to it. For now, Daphne is enjoying the silence and solitude that comes along so rarely in the Slytherin Common Room.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. Daphne is reminded of this as a Quaffle crashes into her book and falls into her lap. She looks up with a murderous glare to meet the proud eyes of Gregory Goyle. Vincent Crabbe stands right next to him, a similarly proud look on his face. Bloody gits.

"Pass it back, Greengrass," he orders, "if you can even throw a Quaffle, that is. Daddy might get mad if you get your hands dirty."

She is seething with anger. Not so much because she was disturbed, but more so at the mention of her father. Hogwarts is supposed to be her chance to get away from that devil of a man, and yet it seems that she still can't escape his presence.

Before she knows what's happening, her small hands are gripping the Quaffle with all of their strength and she violently throws it back to Goyle. He doesn't expect this and it hits his abdomen with a satisfying thud, causing him to double over. As she smirks, she notices Crabbe draw his wand and step towards her with a menacing glare.

"You think that was funny?" he demands.

"Yes, quite," Daphne replies smartly.

He looks just about ready to shoot a spell at her - what, exactly, she hardly knows. Crabbe is not exactly the epitome of intelligent. However, before he gets to unleash any of his magic unto the young girl, Daphne hears a quick, "Expelliarmus!" and the wand flies out of his hand. He now fixes his glare on his assailant, but it quickly disappears as he recognizes the student.

Draco is by Daphne's side in a matter of seconds. "I highly doubt your father would be happy with you if you hurt a Greengrass," he comments. "I've told you before to leave her alone - it seems you might be going deaf, Crabbe."

Crabbe simply mutters something about loyalties under his breath and turns to leave the common room, Goyle following behind him. As soon as they leave, Draco drops himself onto the couch, taking a seat next to Daphne as he turns to look at her with a smirk.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" he boasts.

"That was the first thing we learned in Charms this year, Draco," she deadpans.

"Saved your life, though," he continues, his boastful tone only slightly diminished.

"I would hardly consider Vincent Crabbe a deadly opponent," she replies.

Draco laughs. "That is a fair point," he admits.

"Still, I suppose I should be grateful that the one and only Draco Malfoy is watching out for me," Daphne continues with a joking tone. Then, leaning toward him slightly, she adds in a whisper, "All the other girls are positively green with envy."

He stared back at her with a blank look for a moment, silence filling the space between them. "Get your eyes checked, then," he finally muttered as he turned his gaze back to the fire.

"Prat," Daphne muttered with a shake of her head. He didn't react.

Draco had been in this half-drunk, unkempt state for a long time. After the war, he had completely shut everyone else out, finished his real seventh year, then simply returned to Malfoy Manor with the sole purpose of maintaining the shut-in personality he had constructed for himself. His parents may have evaded Azkaban by providing names, but that simply meant they were hated by both purebloods and blood traitors. At the end of it all, even over a year later, he felt like he didn't deserve to be alive.

Daphne, however, knew very well that this state had been inevitable even before the Battle of Hogwarts. They had been close friends for their whole lives. They both had their social cliques - Draco with the pureblood sons of his parents' friends and Daphne with their daughters - but at the end of the day those friendships were nothing compared to theirs. They had trust, and that was rare to come by in Slytherin. That was why it had become so painfully obvious to Daphne when things had started to head south in their sixth year.

She had been stupidly hopeful that, someday, the old Draco would return. That hope was getting smaller every day, though. She understood where he was coming from. How do you go from being at the peak of society to jaded outcasts?

"First year, you were annoying and full of yourself," Daphne started, deciding that if he was refusing to open up, then maybe he could at least listen. "Truly, I often fought the urge to smack you - but you were there for me when that Ravenclaw ruined my braids."

"It was Roger Davies and he was a prat," Draco muttered quietly.

Progress, Daphne thought to herself proudly. "Second year, getting that Nimbus 2001 really rushed to your head - but you were still humble enough to open up to me and tell me you were scared of the creature in the Chamber of Secrets."

"I wasn't scared - "

"Your words, not mine," Daphne interrupted with a smirk. "Third year, I got on your case about teasing Potter with that Dementor crap and you actually admitted you felt bad for it. Fourth year, you went with me to the Yule Ball after you'd heard that Montague cheated on me with Tracy Davis."

"I also gave him a bloody good Bat-Bogey Hex," Draco pointed out quietly.

"That you did," Daphne admitted with a small smile. "Fifth year, your ridiculousness peaked with that Inquisitorial Squad shite, but you weren't afraid to come to me in tears when your father got thrown in Azkaban."

This time, Draco stayed silent and kept his eyes focused on his lap.

Daphne took a deep breath. "Sixth year... I lost you, Draco," she said quietly. "You kept secret after secret, you shunned me... but still, when you saw that new welt on my arm from my father, you were there for me. Even then."

Cautiously, Draco looked up and met Daphne's eyes. He could see there was pain and empathy in her gaze, and he instantly felt bad for shutting her out so much. He couldn't help it, though. After the war, he had been at a loss for what to do. For who he was. His whole life and system of being had been stomped on and thrown out the window, and now that he had graduated he was simply expected to fit in. How could he if he couldn't even tell right from wrong?

"Why can't I just be like everyone else?" he finally asked quietly. "Why am I so fucked up."

"Draco, you are not fucked up," Daphne said with a confident tone. "All of us went through the same war."

"You didn't," Draco said quietly. "You always hated your parents' purist crap."

"Not for the right reasons," Daphne pointed out, "I just had an abusive father I wanted to spite."

Draco looked down and shook his head. "You were right, though. And I was wrong. The things I did - "

Daphne stood up from the ottoman in that moment and forcefully grabbed the glass from Draco's hands. He stared up at her with a look of disbelief and annoyance, but she simply stared back with a raised eyebrow.

"You've got to stop feeling sorry for yourself," Daphne started. "It's not all about you."

Draco scoffed and looked away from her, crossing his arms as he looked out the window. It was snowing, he realized. Once upon a time, that would have brought a smile to his face. Now, he felt nothing.

Smack.

"Ow - what the hell is wrong with you?" Draco exclaimed as his hand went up to his head, where Daphne had just given him a slightly jarring smack. He frowned at her and she glared back.

"This is what you missed while you were too busy being fatalistic to be my friend," she said angrily as she tugged on the collar of her jumper to reveal the scar on the left side of her neck.

Draco's eyes widened as he took in the scar, spanning from just above her collarbone to the back of her neck. It looked like the job of a knife or a dagger and as he met Daphne's eyes he knew exactly who had done that to her. His grip tightened on the armrest of the armchair as he felt anger overcome him. For the first time in a while, he could feel himself swelling with resentment - an actual strong emotion compared to his usual bleak demeanour.

"Why?" was all that Draco managed to get out.

Daphne sighed and let go of her jumper. "After Uncle Axel had been kidnapped, Father noticed I hadn't been around and suspected I knew something," she explained. "Unfortunately, he was right."

Draco remembered that night. It had been around Christmas time and the younger Greengrass brother had decided to throw a masquerade party. It was very typical of Axel - kick back and have fun, purebloods are entitled to that much. He also very vividly remembered the room suddenly going black and everyone somehow being disarmed all at once. Next thing they knew, Axel was gone.

"It was Keegan," Daphne finally said quietly. "The Order sent him and he told me to get out. When Father found out I was 'sleeping with the enemy' as he put it, he had been furious but... I saw that glint in his eyes. He knew it was useful information."

And then there was Daphne's boyfriend: Keegan Shacklebolt. He was older than them, but most Slytherins remember him on account of being an enigma - otherwise known as a well-liked Slytherin. Daphne's relationship with Keegan had been yet another thing he had missed when he had been too busy doing Voldemort's bidding. Her timing could not have been worse, unfortunately - a month later, the Ministry had fallen to Voldemort and Keegan and his sister had joined the Order with their Uncle Kingsley.

And Draco hadn't been around for her.

Daphne sat back down with a sigh and reached forward, her hand covering his. He met her eyes again and found kindness in them now. "We all have our demons. No one expects you to get over everything in an instant," she said softly, "but you have to at least try, Draco."

"I suppose it doesn't look too good that you knew exactly where to find me in the middle of the day," he admitted with a wry laugh, attempting a small smile.

Daphne smiled back. "Definitely not your proudest moment," she agreed.

Standing up, Daphne reached her hand out to him. He looked up at her, pausing for a moment, before taking her hand and standing up. She didn't hesitate to pull him towards her and tightly embrace him, and Draco found himself quickly hugging her back. He had forgotten how comforting Daphne could be. As far as Slytherins and purebloods went, she had a warmth about her that was unique.

After a moment, Daphne let go of him and took a step back, her expression serious once again. "All right, now there's only one thing left to do," she declared.

"And what would that be, Daph?"

"Get you into some cleaner clothes, you filthy animal."

[theclosetgurl-blog]

Film review: La la land

(and why it is my favourite film, probably of all time)

It took me an extremely long time to review this film because I get so emotional just even thinking of it (and let’s not forget the iconic soundtracks). I am an avid re-watcher, aka I have an obsessive streak of re-watching movies that I like. The reason why I like to revisit movies is because I feel like I feel differently each time I watch them, and I want to. I want to feel and see all the perspectives it has. But it took me about a year before I could bring myself to re-watch La la land. That was how sacred this film is to me. I didn’t want to replace the feelings I felt when I’d first watched it in cinemas last december. I would see it on stream sites and I would just stare at the icon, unable to get myself to revisit it. I finally got myself to re-watch it recently, and hence this review.

I can’t even begin how to explain this movie. It’s like Moby Dick; it’s about everything. It’s about passion, dreams, reality, friendship, respect, the pursuit of happiness, and of course, love. The artistry in this movie is on another level as well. I’ve never ever felt the feeling of crying for something beautiful, like when you cry at weddings, until I watched La la land. It was so freaking beautiful that I cried. I am both ashamed and yet not, for crying so much over this film. And of course, Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone as the leads? I can’t take it, I just can’t.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (and if you haven’t watched it, please do yourself a favour and do so!)

I won’t go into the details of the general plot, but touch into the points worthy of mentioning, which should put together the movie as a whole anyway.

I would like to say from the start, that I knew that the romance between Sebastian and Mia wasn’t meant to last - that they were bound to break up. The first time that I watched it, I just knew. It probably hit me when Sebastian started playing Mia & Sebastian’s Theme on the piano in the bar. The morose tone of the score was a not-so-subtle hint that a break-up was bound to happen. But as I watched it for the 2nd time, I realized how I knew they were going to break up. Their relationship, despite the love they have for each other, was more solidly built on the respect for their passion and dreams. We have this struggling actress-to-be and struggling jazz musician; both of them want the same thing, to be noticed. Mia wanted to be recognized for her acting ability, and Sebastian was a struggling pianist who wanted so badly to open his own bar to show the world what real jazz is. Of course, it would be everyone’s dream to see both protagonists facing and overcoming their obstacles and succeed together. It would however be abit too far-fetched, realistically, for this to happen. And I appreciate that the film was real about this. For Mia and Sebastian, their break up was inevitable because they didn’t put each other first. They’d always respected each other’s dreams, and the main reason that they had even gotten in a relationship with each other was also because of that - they wanted to inspire each other to achieve their respective dreams. They were never meant to last not because they didn’t love each other, but because their respect for each other had outshone everything else. Before their love, there was most importantly, camaraderie, for they were both struggling artists. Towards the demise of their relationship, there were no hard feelings felt. They both knew that they had to let each other go. Personally, I’d felt (both times) that their relationship had ended when Sebastian didn’t turn up at Mia’s one-woman play. It was already pretty evident that they were growing apart from each other, what with Sebastian always on tour and being unhappy about the music he’s been producing, and I felt that there didn’t need to be a definite “We’re going to break up” thing; it was just a thing that happened naturally. It was obvious that the love between them had fizzed away when Sebastian put his career before Mia and wasn’t there for her when she felt the shittiest after her play had failed. After that it was out of camaraderie and friendship (that had always existed between them), that compelled him to drive to her house to get her to the audition, which shot her up to fame.

There were many instances where I had cried in this film. The first was when Mia was sitting in the fancy restaurant with her then shitty, stuck-up boyfriend with his wealthy brother and girlfriend. She feels out of place, as she was a struggling actress, while having to witness them talking about their rich people’s problems. It was a struggle between staying here and climbing the social ladder, and going to Sebastian to watch Rebel without a cause. It is quite literal here, where Mia is at a crossroad to choose between an albeit materialistic but a life with security, or the unknown of the pursuit of her dreams. If she’d stayed with her boyfriend, she might never have gotten together with Sebastian, and probably forsaken her dream as an actress and married her wealthy boyfriend. But as she stared at them, their theme score started playing in her head and she knew that she had to go to Sebastian. I’d cried because I could relate to how she felt. At the time when the film was showing in the cinema, I was at a crossroad myself. I’d just graduated and I was facing the same problems as Mia. I was faced with the choice of pursuing what I wanted to do, which was to write and produce art, and the choice of getting a proper full-time job. It’s quite obvious now which choice I chose, but at that point, I could relate exactly to how Mia was feeling. And so I cried. I want to say that it’s not an easy choice to make, throwing away a life of security, and I guess I cried because she did what I wanted to do, but couldn’t. That she was courageous for me, when I couldn’t be for myself. 

The second time I’d cried was when the pair of them went to the planetarium to see the real thing, since their movie screening had froze at that point. It was the iconic scene of Sebastian pushing Mia up to the stars and they were literally dancing in the stars. This was when I cried because the scene was so beautiful. It was perfect. It was the kind of moment where you can just feel, “Ah, how I wish time will stop”. I’ve seen and heard so many lines of such, but it never really hit me until this scene. It was truly the epitome of such beauty. And so I cried. I cried because of the beauty of their love and the artistry in place. I cried because I knew they were going to end up apart sometime later in the film. I cried because it was so beautiful yet so sad - I was subconsciously waiting for them to break up. It was so sad, because I wanted them to be together till the end.

The third time that I cried was when Mia sang Audition, at her audition. It was a very moving song, as she sang about how her aunt was the one who inspired her to be an actress. She told of her story, about how her aunt once jumped in a river barefoot, when the water was freezing. She sang about how her aunt had a cold for a month, but she didn’t regret her actions. She remembers how “she captured a feeling, a sky with no ceiling, a sunset without a frame”. 

“Here’s to the fools who dream, crazy as they may seem, here’s to the hearts that break, here’s to the mess we made.”

It was both moving for Mia and me, as she was pouring her heart out in what may seem like, her last shot at auditions and as an actress, as she tells me (or the audience) how she feels. It was a message to everyone, to tell us that it’s okay to do something a little crazy. It was just a feeling, how her aunt felt. And how that feeling was passed on to Mia. And then passed on to me (and the audience). I felt extremely sad and embarrassed about myself as I heard her sing. I was brought up in a society where I was told that pursuing my passion was stupid. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have one, it was just that I was scared and a coward to break through it. And that’s why I cried. I cried because I could feel her passion as with mine. I cried because I was a coward. And I cried for the society and reality that I live in; forever the same with no excitement. It made me think that if I continued the way I live, I will never be able to feel anything. And feeling, is everything.

The last time I cried, it hit me the hardest and I kept crying even after the movie had ended. Those who have watched the film should know which scene it is. You know how sometimes in films or dramas, the two protagonists end up with different people? But you’re still curious about the what-if? What if they hadn’t broken up? What if they had been together till the end? La la land, gives you that what-if, straight to your heart, where it stabs you until you bleed internally. You will bleed, because it was a good ending. Like, fuck, I’d almost wanted it to be a bad ending between them because of how good it might’ve been. It is 5 years later after they’ve decided to end their relationship to pursue their dreams individually. Mia is now a successful actress, and she sashays into the coffee house she used to work, but now as someone she used to envy. She’s married and has a daughter. Sebastian has opened his jazz bar like how he wanted to, and named it Seb’s, like how Mia had suggested but he said no when she’d mentioned (Awww!). She and her husband enters the bar as she was attracted to the music, and they make eye contact as Sebastian is about to play. He decides to play their song, and the whole life they could’ve had. He would’ve quit his band and travelled to europe with Mia, for her movie. They would’ve been still madly in love. They would’ve married and had their children, and they would’ve been happy together. They would’ve came to his bar together, and not individually. It broke me, totally. It broke me because they could’ve achieved their dreams together and lived happily together after truly. It was the exact fulfilment of the never-ending what-if question, and it was beautiful and whole. Except that reality is not. Their reality was them going back to their separate lives. It was both devastatingly sad, yet still true. They were meant to part ways, even if their lives would’ve been happy together. It was true and right because they did not sacrifice each other in their pursuit of their dreams and happiness, they just knew it was time for them to do it individually. It was the right passage of their lives, and they know it too. I just want to give an applause to Damien (director), for giving us this what-if scenario. It’s the first time that I’ve had this question mark answered, ever. And it was mindblowingly good. 

There was an element of doubt mixed in with the realities of life that I really appreciated in this film as well. As the pursuit of dreams goes, it is not at all easy to fulfil. Sometimes I feel like it is too easy for an outsider to just say stuff like “you can pursue your dreams!”, when in actual fact most people don’t realize how difficult it is. There are greater realities than dreams that exist, and we can’t ignore them. We can see this in the choice that Sebastian made. He’d been so adamant about retaining the spirit of “traditional” jazz, but ultimately he made the decision to join his friend who produced a more “pop” jazz type of music, just because it pays well. He was ashamed of how Mia had to explain to her parents that he was still ‘trying to figure things out’ and not really doing anything to fulfil his dream of opening his bar. On the other hand, we can also feel Mia’s dejection towards her dream. She has not been successful in her auditions, but she finally felt a bit of hope when Sebastian encouraged her to do her one-woman play, which she has been writing off-hand. He’d told her to do it for herself, and not to care about what others will think of it, because he says its brilliant. Ultimately, she has to face her reality, when only a very small amount of audience came for it. She even overhears them saying that it was a horrible play, and it completely destroys  her. She felt completely crushed and tells Sebastian that its over for her dream. Even when he drove all the way to her house to tell her about an audition after a casting director saw her play and really liked her, she was full of self-doubt. Her last hope had been crushed and she was hesitant to try again. 

There was not a moment in this film that I was not enchanted, even towards the demise of relationship, the writers and director kept it real between the characters. It was not especially hard to see how they grew apart, unlike some romance films. It was how life was in reality; he got a job he didn’t like for financial support, while she was busy with her one-woman play. They’d grown apart naturally, as like how every couple does at some point. It was relatable and acceptable. And of course, the good parts, were good, as how romance goes. The scores and music are fantastic. The musical aspects of the film are not cheesy and is filmed in a classy manner. There’s just nothing not to love about this film.

So there you have it. La la land is my favourite movie. It is a movie very hard to top my list, and I sincerely look forward to another film which can trump it, but I highly doubt it (at least not in the near future). If you love La la land, and you feel like watching another movie recommendation, mine would be Like Crazy. Nothing was able to top Like Crazy for maybe 4 years, until La la land. La la land totally deserves all the awards that it won. 

[dezsasdfghjkl]

 **You never got to finish reading my letter. I know it’s a long shot, you’ve been trying to stay away from social media, but I hope you get to read this. I’m sorry if I’m too much of a coward to send this to you or even want to see you again. I’ve grown tired of your inconsistencies. It took me a long time and a lot of strength to say no to you. As much as I still want to be the person you call when you couldn’t sleep at night or when you’re wasted, I have realized that I deserve a better friendship from you. With everything you have put me through this year, I am exhausted and finally empty. I don’t regret knowing you but I think I have played my part in your life and you have done your part in mine. I hope you find happiness, contentment and love, one that wouldn’t give up on you. I’m sorry if I did. 

You asked me how I was through a message in facebook.

 Seeing our chatbox cleared of our past; the flirting, our inside jokes, date plans and arguments replaced with a “Hey, how’re you?” now felt like it was the first time all over again. I felt giddy opening a message from you, which I haven’t done in a month. But this time anxiety has crept in.

 I stared at the grey bubble for five solid minutes, going back and forth with: “I’m great!”, “ I’m not doing so good.” Or “I don’t know, how do you think I should feel after you cut me off?”. I stuck with “I’m great” because I think it was what you needed to hear.

 Maybe you needed to know that I was doing better than you expected, that I can do well without you, that I have moved on and what you did hasn’t affected me at all, that I can barely feel your absence because you weren’t really present in my life for the past six months.

 Maybe you needed to be assured; to clear your conscience or maybe you genuinely cared for me. But the last one is too far fetched, that’s what I keep telling myself. I just don’t want to hope anymore.

 For a few hours I was content in giving you that answer. It was true to some extent, I was doing a better job at moving on than most girls are. But there are days when I am unable to go forward.

 Out of all the trial and errors of relationships I’ve been in, I was proudest of ours the most. Although it doesn’t fall into the category of relationship norms society deems acceptable, I have come to love you and what we were. It was unconventional, yes, but for me it was the simplest and most genuine of all.

 I have never been as honest with the guys I dated as I was with you. And I have come to believe the truth that you were honest with me too. Looking at my reply now disgusted me. Lying to you would be a disservice to the trust you have put in me and our friendship.

Honestly, I am okay but some days trying to be okay exhaust the crap out of me.

 When you told me you were ready to love again just not with me, you broke my heart the second time that night. The moment I read your message, my tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. I cried on the way to the mall, I sobbed while waiting in the cinema and even more when my friends and I were watching a movie. I cried for four hours until there were no more tears left to shed. Fortunately, I haven’t cried since then.

 I couldn’t understand why I was crying, what I was sobbing over. I know you didn’t feel the same way or if you did it was short lived, in the first few weeks we dated. I have accepted that my feelings for you can never be reciprocated or if you actually do love me back, it will be far too complicated to pursue a relationship with me. I knew all these even before I told you I love you.

 I was contented with what we were, understood what we are not and knew what we can never be. I was happy enough to have you in my life as a friend and even felt blessed to able to do so. But you said things and for a little while I let myself entertain the possibility of us, again.

 I guess I placed you on a pedestal when I sent those drunk messages thanking you for letting me love you. It took two days for you to reply, it was probably hard for you to send your reply knowing it might break me. (Or maybe not?)

 A day after the drama, you cut me off. You told me once you can never cut me off unlike other girls you dated. I believed that. I felt stupid for doing so.

That day I was mad at you. I have never been mad at you, frustrated, yes but never angry.  I hated that you made me look like a foolish girl who trusted you not to do the one thing you said you never could do to me. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. All the truths I came to know about you seemed made up. I kept thinking about the times we spent together and tried to pin point at which time I became blinded by the fictitious conversations we’ve had. I couldn’t.

 It turns out I was never blinded by your words, I just chose to forgive you and give you another chance because I saw the good in you that others couldn’t. You went against your words the first time, what the hell made me think you wouldn’t do it again, I don’t know. I just had faith in you.

 By the end of the day, I was over it. I had to take responsibility of my pain too. You pushed me away countless of times before but I remained obstinate and stayed, waited for you to need me again. I could have walked away anytime but I did not. I knew what I was getting myself into and I chose to be momentarily happy with you, to be there for you even if I predicted the fall out to be much harder than the first time. Depressing, right?

 The next days have been easier. I have someone to distract me. I admit it isn’t healthy but it’s a distraction nonetheless and I am eager to think about anything else. But there are days when distractions don’t work and pretending takes a toll on me. There are times that I couldn’t focus on work and I become unproductive, mostly just staring into space.

 My professor in literature once said, “No one writes when they’re happy, they write when they’re sad.”. It was true. Before you, I could write poetry just by focusing on a poignant day I got to spend with a person. Even if it was just an uneventful one, lying around and talking, I can weave a heartbreaking story out of that memory. But I was naive back then; writing was too easy for me, I did not know real heartbreak from romance yet.

 They say that writing is a curse and a gift, a curse because you relive every pain when you write and gift because it eventually frees you from that pain. Writing this letter took me a long time to compose and a harder time to organize, in fact the memories I’ve written down are jumbled but are consistent with one thing, truth. I do hope you finish reading this no matter how long it would take you. It took me three days to write this, unable to finish in one sitting because the memories can be too much for me or I just want to hold on to them longer. I write this in hopes that I can make sense of what happened that you’d take time to understand why I felt the things I felt.

December happened and it wrecked me. I opened up to you. I let my guard down and showed you how screwed up I was underneath the charades I perform for people who’d prefer the spontaneous me sans the drama. That was the first time I truly let anyone in on my shit. Sure, my friends have an idea about what I go through but I couldn’t let them see me break like that. I’ve always been the stronger one, the person they can call anytime and lean on to, the cheerleader who pushes them to go on. I was surprised with myself that within less than a week of knowing you I told you things about me more than some of my friends know. There was something about you that made it easy for me to be honest. You allowed me to be weak and vulnerable around you. And despite everything I told you, you asked me what I wanted. I told you I wanted you to stay, you promised you would and you did. For that, I’m thankful.

 Everything that followed happened so fast. It was a blur of lunches, doubts, promises, extreme joy and fights. I couldn’t understand why we were moving past the speed limit, it was dates then sex, I love yous and a sudden “We’re too different, I don’t think we’ll workout.” in less than a month. It was a roller coaster of emotions for me, that was the craziest ride in my entire life and I would do it all over again.

 So that was what they meant by freefalling. There weren’t any of the calculated guesses, precautionary measures or exit plans I was used to. It was just like floating in the ocean, one minute you trust the waves to lull you softly, then without warning, big waves drown you and the currents take you further away. There is no escape in the ocean, no land to swim to safety. One can only learn to trust that its ebb and flow will take them home someday. I may have been left gasping for air in the end but I have never felt more alive. Thank you.

 When you decided to end things with me last year, I half expected you to communicate with me again. You wanted to have me once more but this time it was different. The lunches we used to have were replaced with midnight rendezvous and takeouts. Gone were the sweet messages, now when you call me it’s past 11 pm on a party-less Friday night. There were no good morning texts that ever followed.

  I promised myself I would never be the kind of girl who will settle for less just to have the guy that I love for a few hours every two weeks, but I became exactly that: a booty call.   The movies made it sound sexy and exciting but it wasn’t at all fun. I always woke up tired the next day and I would sleep through all my classes. There were times that I would pity myself and question my principles. Where was the strong woman that I worked hard to become? She got tired of being tough. She found safety behind the red flags and she succumbed to her heart’s desires.

 It was stupid and reckless but I stuck with you for another five months but I needed a way to detach myself somehow. There were other guys who wanted to date me when they found out we stopped seeing each other. So I went out with them in the hopes that their attention and efforts were enough to sway my heart. But not one of them felt like home

Yes they listened to me, tried to fathom my wreckage but the only things they could see was my brilliance, charm and wit û all but the bad things I have become.  As romantic as those compliments sounded, I needed someone who knows the hell I’ve been through and the horrible person I have become but is still willing to give me another chance.

Back then, during the first week we dated,  you found out I slept with your friend before and that I was still texting him, hell broke lose. You drove back to my house, returned my phone and wanted to forget everything that happened between us (which were 5 consecutive dates that week). But there was something holding you back from totally leaving. You asked me why I lied to you. I am not fond of confrontations and I know you saw that when I told you why. --- All of it; why I became what I am today, why I didn’t trust you enough that I still wanted to see other guys and why I was so guarded. You patiently listened, not once did you interrupt me. I finished my monologue tearing up and repeatedly telling you that I was tired of everything about dating: the lies, the games, boys and sex. Despite what you heard, you decided that I was worth another shot. You even promised me that you were “all-in”. Thank you for taking a chance on me, I hope I didn’t fail you.

             There is just something beautiful about being with someone who has seen all your cracks and flaws without needing to cover them up with this perfect idea they have of you. But knowing that your imperfections, choices in the past and the mistakes you have to live with will always be a part of who you are. And when you find someone who embraces your true self, without question or any justification, you are blessed. I was blessed to have you for a while.

 They say that nothing good ever happens past 2am, but man they were wrong. The nights and early mornings we spent together from January till May were the best memories I have of you. True, I may have lost track of who I was but I gained something in return, you.

 I remember the first night we saw each other in January. I was drunk from drinking tequila with my date that night and I was too tired to even get up but my phone buzzed at almost 12 am, it was you. You haven’t contacted me in days and I was ecstatic to hear from you again. Despite the intoxicated and sleepy state I was in, I told you that you can come over. Within 20 minutes, you arrived blasting your hiphop music in your car. Every night since that night, you would always ask me how I was first. I told you a short recap of what happened in the past two weeks we haven’t seen each other. I told you that I came from a date, that we walked from Lahug to SM and that I really had a great time with the guy. You got pissed at him. “Fuck that guy.: you said. And you didn’t meant for me to screw him, you were just annoyed. I found it funny and sweet that you would get irritated by another guy you barely even knew just because he and I went out a couple of times. I asked why you reacted the way you did, you just said “samok”.

 I didn’t probe any further. We proceeded to talk about what was going on in your life. You gave me your normal spiel about how everything is okay with school and friends. But you were tired. You were exhausted of the city and partying, of the fact that you had to follow your Dad’s footsteps in politics and business and that the future was all mapped out for you. You were suffocated with everything about your life that you wanted to escape. I stared at you in awe. I thought to myself; “Here beside me is a guy who was handed down everything in a silver platter but wanted none of it”.  I wanted to fly us out of the city, far away where none of your problems can reach you but at that moment all I could do was hold you and tell you “You know that I’m always here for you right?” You thanked me. Until now, it still stands true. From that night onwards, I have grown to love you a little more each time we saw each other.

 Our midnight rendezvous wasn’t a regular thing. We would sometimes go on for two weeks or a month at most without seeing each other. I’d see you around sometimes, always in the same street where students from our university and yours would converge. In those moments, there is a clarity in those scenes which would surprise me no matter how mundane it has become in our lives. See, we were like two parallel lines in a sphere, coexisting in the same space yet rarely do we intersect. Looking at you from afar in broad daylight made me realize how much of an outsider I was despite knowing you intimately. You’d ask me sometimes why I never say hi when I see you, the truth is it never felt right to be with you again during the day.

 I got used to seeing you in the shadows the same way I got used to you calling me only when you need me. On the nights that we did, either you would come over to my place or I would go to yours, my heart always pumps a faster and my nerves would not calm down from the excitement of seeing you. Despite the adrenaline rush, I found solace in the dark knowing I’ll find you there. There was more to it than sex. You said it yourself: “It’s not just the sex.”We can never pinpoint the ‘more’. You couldn’t even believe yourself when you started telling me your secrets, heartbreaks, hopes and dreams that were unknown to some of your friends. And I liked that I made you feel that way. I took pride in the trust you’ve given me. Slowly, I got to unravel the real you underneath your collector’s caps and expensive shoes. Every time you shared me something precious to you, I felt like I was unwrapping a gift on Christmas Eve. Little by little, I saw snippets of your life that I could never witness up close.

 I got to know so many versions of you and fell for each one. I got to know the kind you who was polite to every person you meet on the streets. I met the humble you who would never say no to eating proven or giving back. I argued with the smart version of you who talks about business and politics., I found it cute every time the impatient you couldn’t wait for me to listen to your favorite songs despite our bad internet connection at home. I became frightened of the scary you who cusses a lot and says the most hurtful (but true) things. But most of all I adored you when you showed me how broken you were when you lost the love of your life because you were living in a hazy dream for the past three years. And I have loved every version, even the worst one.

 My friends would always ask me what I saw in you. Everything! But they would have just gotten more mad at me had I said that which will just lead to me saying “Okay, okay I won’t see him na lagi.” I love your beautiful mess and I loved you more when you were trying to fix it. You told me once that I inspire you. I melted right away. Thank you, but I can’t take credit for your progress, it was all you: your determination to be the best version of yourself and your ambition to reach your dreams. I don’t know what made you say that but I am very grateful you saw me in that light. All I did was just listen and be there for you. I didn’t even try to change your mind but I’m glad that you have appreciated the things that I did.

 Recently, my senior at work asked me what the difference of Love and Infatuation is. I replied proudly that unlike infatuation which selfishly wants the person to be his or hers only, Love is an unconditional selfless act that would want the other person to be happy and free even if that means you won’t be together. Loving you made me realize that romantic love isn’t far from the love I have for my friends and family. Again, thank you for letting me love you.

 All I have said before and all I have written now will always be true. Life may take us farther from each other, me (hopefully) in books and magazines and you to the skies, but know that I’ll always be there for you whenever you need me. Journeying through life will not be easy, but know that you have your family and friends who without hesitations or judgment will always support you. Openly show the world who you really are, I saw a beautiful soul in you and I’m sure they’ll see it too. No matter what people say and how you think of yourself: gwapo jod lagi ka! You are a whole universe babe, let people in and explore every planet.

 Wishing you the best, always.

[beyondforks]

Tour! A Review of Three Weeks with a Princess by Vanessa Kelly, Plus a Q&A w/ the Author!

Three Weeks with a Princess (The Improper Princesses #2) by Vanessa Kelly  Genre: Adult Fiction (Historical Romance) Date Published: June 27, 2017 Publisher: Zebra

In Vanessa Kelly's captivating series, three young women are descended from royalty--in the most improper way. But that doesn't stop them from pursuing lives rich in adventure. . .

Lia Kincaid, illegitimate daughter of the Duke of York, comes from a long line of notorious women. Raised by her grandmother, formerly mistress to the late Marquess of Lendale, she has little hope of a respectable marriage. But the new marquess, her childhood friend, Jack Easton, would make a very desirable protector . . . if he weren't too honorable to take her to bed.

It's bad enough being saddled with a title he never desired. Now Jack must resist the beautiful woman he desires far too much. Duty calls, and he is duty-bound to choose a wealthy bride. But then Lia makes another outrageous suggestion: asking Jack to devise some tests to find her the perfect paramour. Tests that involve flirting, kissing, and other pleasurable pursuits. Tests that, in a matter of weeks, could transform friendship into the ton's greatest scandal, igniting a passion even duty can't deny. . .

Three Weeks with a Princess is the second book in The Improper Princesses series by Vanessa Kelly. This was both a forbidden romance and a romance that grew from a strong friendship. My two favorite kinds. Lia was so incredibly stubborn, and she met her match with Jack, as he was too. They bickered and argued, but they had the best times together and a strong history as friends. I thoroughly enjoyed watching their relationship grow through all the uncertainties, and with her family history, there were many. These two were such a cute and entertaining pair. I can't wait to  see who's story we get next. The ARC of Three Weeks with a Princess by Vanessa Kelly was kindly provided to me by the Tasty Book Tours for review. The opinions are my own.

Lia pulled herself up, her back ramrod straight. She regarded Jack with a degree of haughtiness that would do a princess proud. “If you’re referring to my mother, she has been respectably married for ten years. My stepfather is a well-regarded businessman whose conduct is above reproach.” “In the theatrical world, yes. But society still looks askance on those engaged in that particular business and you know it.” “But—” “And let’s not forget that your mother came rather late to domestic respectability,” he continued. “We both know she was considered as notorious as your grandmother in her day. For you to join her company as an actress, even under the protection of your stepfather’s good name, would invite exactly the type of attention from exactly the type of men you’re trying to avoid. I absolutely forbid it.” That brought Lia to her feet in a flash. “You forbid it? May I remind you, sir, that you have no right in that regard?” “Legally, perhaps not. But I’m responsible for you nonetheless. Aside from your grandmother, I’m the closest thing to family you have—which you just pointed out only a few moments ago.” “You seem to be forgetting that I do have a mother—and a stepfather,” she said with a lethal glare. “And I said you were my best friend. I’m starting to doubt that particular relationship at the moment, given your wretchedly selfish behavior.” “Good God, Lia, my behavior is anything but—” “So, let me be perfectly clear, your lordship,” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You are not my brother, my father, or anything else that gives you the right to command me. I am a woman grown and I have proven time and again that I am more than capable of making sensible and rational decisions. And given the extremely precarious position in which my grandmother and I find ourselves, my plan is without a doubt the most sensible course of action.” She gave her head a dramatic toss. “You, Lord Lendale, have nothing to say about it.” Her disdainful tone and her rejection of their relationship set off a little explosion in Jack’s head. He marched around the desk and planted himself in front of her, his legs spread and his hands propped on his hips. It forced Lia to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, glare for glare. “As much as it pains me to speak so bluntly . . .” he started. “Ha! I doubt that.” “The circumstances demand that I must do so,” he said, ignoring her jibe. “You are no more an actress than a courtesan. You are no more a Notorious Kincaid than I am. What you are is an innocent and nice young lady who was raised in the country. And that is exactly where you will remain until I figure out how to deal with this situation.” Her eyes blazed with icy blue fire. “I beg to differ, my lord. If I put my mind to it, I’m quite sure I can be just as notorious as the other women in my family.” Then she reached up and clamped his face between her palms. She went up on her toes and planted her mouth on his, kissing him with a fury that almost knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t the first time she’d kissed him, but those had been chaste pecks on the cheek. This clumsy kiss took him like a storm, blasting amazement through his veins. Instinctively, his arms started to wrap around her to pull her close. But she shoved him away, leaving him slack-jawed and gasping for breath. The color was high on her cheekbones and her lush, pink mouth was dewy. Like him, she was panting, but from the look on her face he suspected it had more to do with rage than passion. “Let that be a lesson to you, Jack Easton. You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Then she turned on her heel and marched to the French doors. Spinning around, she once more jabbed a minatory finger in his direction. “And don’t ever try to tell me what I can and cannot do.” With that daunting remark, she disappeared into the bright morning sunlight, leaving Jack with the unnerving sensation that he’d just lost control of everything.

If you could sit and write in a different country where would it be?  England, probably the Lake District or the Cotswolds. My fantasies generally do not involve sexy guys—they involve peaceful little cottages on a hillside overlooking a beautiful lake. Oh, and tea, scones, and a nice glass of wine at the end of the day. LOL!  Co-writing: have you done it with another author, if not, would you?I co-write with my husband as VK Sykes. We’ve written a number of books, including contemporary romances and romantic suspense. Hubby is also my critique partner for my historical romances. I enjoy the process and we work very well together—likely because we know each other’s weak spots and how to deal with them. It’s really fun to work creatively with him; plus, it keeps us busy so we don’t kill each other from boredom! I don’t know if I could actually co-write a book with another author, although I’ve worked on interconnected anthologies with other writers. I enjoyed that process, too. Can you tell us a little about your book?THREE WEEKS WITH A PRINCESS is the second book in The Improper Princesses Series, which is a spin-off from my previous series, The Renegade Royals. That series featured the illegitimate sons of England’s royal dukes, who fought for their rightful places in the world—falling madly in love with some pretty swell gals along the way, of course. In this new series, the illegitimate daughters of royal dukes take their turn, surmounting all the obstacles that society put in their way in that time period, and winning the hearts of their own heroes. There’s love, laughter, adventure, and just a little bit of danger to spice things up! How did you come up with the concept and the characters for the story?Aside from the fact that it’s a spin-off, THREE WEEKS WITH A PRINCESS is based on the famous movie musical, Gigi. My heroine, Lia Kincaid, is the daughter and granddaughter of notorious courtesans and is expected to follow in their footsteps. There are a few problems with that plan, however—she has no desire to become a courtesan and she’s madly in love with her childhood friend, Jack Easton, Marquess of Lendale. But events conspire to push Lia in the direction she doesn’t want to go, and Jack is pretty much losing his mind trying to stop her. Jack, unfortunately, also has big problems, which include a mother who hates Lia’s guts and a debt-ridden estate all but falling down around his ears. Needless to say, Lia and Jack have more than a few obstacles to a happily ever after! What are some books that you enjoyed recently?I just read a great book called BITTER SPIRITS, a paranormal romance set in San Francisco during the Roaring Twenties. The hero is a bootlegger and the heroine is a spirit medium, and they meet under very unusual circumstances: the hero is under a curse. They have tremendous chemistry and I loved the atmospheric setting. I’m halfway through the second book in the series by Jenn Bennett, and I’m enjoying it, too. I’m kind of a sucker for unusual historical settings for romance, and this one really fit the bill.  What do you like best about being a writer? What is the most challenging part?The best part for me is writing The End. I relish having a finished book in my hands, and it’s still a thrill to know I created a new story with characters I’ve invariably come to love. The most challenging part is actually sitting down every day and getting words on the page. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes not. There are days when I feel like being lazy or reading a book, but deadlines mean butt has to get into chair, regardless of inspiration striking or not.  Are there certain characters you would like to go back to, or is there a theme or idea you’d love to work with? The theme I most frequently come back to, whether I realize it or not at the time, is family and finding home. It’s just the one that sticks with me. I do have a number of characters I’d like to return to at some point, mostly secondary characters from my Renegade Royals Series. There are a pair of children in my recently released short story, THREE RENEGADES AND A BABY, who I think are demanding their own story when they grow up. So, stay tuned for that! Can you tell us about your upcoming book? My next book is called THE HIGHLANDER’S PRINCESS BRIDE, and it’ll be out in November. It’s Improper Princesses 3, and it moves the action to a remote castle in Scotland. My heroine finds herself trying to teach a very rambunctious family of Highlanders how to be proper gentlemen, a la Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. This book segues into my next series, which will feature the Kendrick brothers—a wild group of Highland rogues! I’m really excited to be moving in that direction. 

Have you read the first book?

Check out my review of another book by this author!

Vanessa Kelly is a USA Today Bestselling, award-winning author who was named by Booklist, the review journal of the American Library Association, as one of the “New Stars of Historical Romance.”  Her Regency-set historical romances have been nominated for awards in a number of contests, and her second book, Sex and The Single Earl, won the prestigious Maggie Medallion for Best Historical Romance. Vanessa’s previous series, The Renegade Royals, was a national bestseller. She is currently writing a spin-off series called The Improper Princesses. My Fair Princess, book 1, was named a Goodreads Romance of the Month. Vanessa also writes USA Today Bestselling books with her husband, under the pen name of V.K. Sykes. To learn more about Vanessa Kelly and her books, visit her website & blog.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.

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