#currently obsessed with putting a sheet over Alex

[seirxi]

catsel and bunlex

[lovemychoices]

The Lost Prince - TRR AU [Epilogue] / TRH : Royal Rhys [Prologue]

After being married for three years and unable to produce an heir, Liam and Riley are about to give up when Liam gets an unexpected news that changes his life forever.

Genre : Romance, Drama

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 2k++

Chapter Summary: 28 years later...

A/N : One stories closes another begins. I’ve decided to put the epilogue of The Lost Prince and prologue for the sequel together because it seems to work.

TRH : ROYAL RHYS, is a sequel set 28 years later from the events of THE LOST PRINCE. Theon and his siblings are all grown up. The OG will still be in the series from time to time but it’s mainly about the kids. 😊

Sorry for any typo’s and grammatical errors. Also this is tagged under long post.

Warning : The sequel will contain mature content in future chapters such as NSFW, Violence and a few triggers which I will mention on the chapter. Only read if you are 18 and above.

Do let me know if you want to be added to the sequel.

28 years later…

Somewhere in Greece.

It was already past noon when he began to slowly flutter his eyes open as the small ray of sunlight peaks through the closed curtains of the hotel room. He slowly lifts his head up as he takes in the surroundings of his luxurious penthouse suit, a few empty shot glasses on the table and a few empty bottles of liquor along with it. Clothes scattered all over the floor and next to him was her, sleeping soundly.

A low grunt escapes him and presses his palms between his forehead. “Fuck, I probably had too much to drink again last night.” He slowly removes the sheets and carefully gets up from bed trying not to wake her up. As soon as his feet touch the floor he reaches for his boxers and pulls them on, gathering the rest of his clothes, getting dressed before leaving the room being careful not to let anyone see him.

“Hey it’s me, meet me at the back.”

Hunter Dominic Rhys was the youngest of the twins and the black sheep of the family. At the age of 3 he was already giving the nanny a field day with his mischief and shenanigans. By the time he was 16 he already had 20 different kingsguard assigned to him eventually breaking his uncle Leo’s record.

He makes his way towards the back entrance of the Hotel. As he enters the black SUV and takes a seat his phone beeps, he takes it out from the pocket of his jacket and reads the text a wide grin forms on his face as he does.

Had fun last night, hope to see you again soon. Xoxo

“Seriously man, I can’t keep covering for you.” The driver on the front seat said, giving Hunter a look between annoyed and worried.

“Common Jackson if there’s one Kingsguard who I know I can trust it’s you.”

“You know this is just going to bite you in the ass if her husband finds out you’ve been screwing with his wife right?” Jackson said with an eyebrow raised.

“Then we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t..” He answers with a smug look on his face. “We’d better head to the private airstrip. I wouldn’t want to miss my family's Friday night dinner. My mother would never let me hear the end of it.”

Jackson rolls his eyes before putting on his aviators. “If you say so, your royal highness“.

************************

TREND studio, Cordonia.

She stood at the back of the stage, waiting for Ana de Luca to announce her name. She was invited as a special guest today for an interview.

And without further adieu please welcome today's special guess, her royal highness princess Alexandra Rhys of Cordonia.

“That’s my cue.” She murmurs to herself, putting on a perfect smile and adjusting her posture before she saunters out to face the audience and the cameras.

Alexandra Kenna Rhys, the older twin, was the poster child of the Rhys family. While her brother’s were off involving themselves in mischief and her sister rummaging her mother’s closet playing pretend dress up, she would be spending her days at the palace library reading. By the age of 24 she was already a world known author and she’s also known for her philanthropy. Even Theon had his bad press days, but there was never one about Alex. She was always primp and proper for the camera but off cameras Alex had a secret that no one knew about.

Alex approaches the couch and shakes Ana’s hand as they greet each other, they each take a seat shortly after. The sound of the audience cheering slowly dies down and they begin their session.

“Thank you for agreeing to join us today, your highness.”

“The pleasure is all mine Ana. You know I’m always happy to come to your show.” She smiles.

“Firstly I would like to congratulate you on the success of your charity last weekend, I believe you managed to collect a generous amount from the people who attended.” She said and the audience clapped and cheered.

“Thank you Ana, but you know I could have done it without the support of my family and all the other people involved.”

“Humble as always.” Ana said with a smile. “So your recent book the sequel to The Elementalist was a huge success early this year and there were rumours going around recently that you are currently working on a third book. Is that true? Could you give us a little spoiler?”

“Uh well there is definitely a third book on the way, which I’m hoping would be out sometime later next year. Fingers crossed.” She said, crossing her fingers in front of the audience. “It’s going to be the final book and it’s taking place during the group's senior year.”

The audience cheers in excitement.

“That’s great news! I’m sure your fans of the book will be eagerly waiting for the official release.” She said with a smile. “So on to the next question and I’m sure it's something the audience has been dying to know. How are things in the love department so far? You and Jackson Walker have been dating for almost a decade. Are we going to hear any wedding bells soon?”

Alex shifts her position, her body tenses a little but conceals it perfectly before anyone notices. “The two of us have been doing well but you know we each have our busy schedules. I’ve been away a lot on business and he’s been busy handling Hunter. There hasn’t been any talk of wedding bells yet.” She answers with a plastic smile. “But if there was as always you’ll be the first to know.”

The two exchange pleasantries for another twenty minute until it’s finally time for Alex to get off the set. When she gets to the back of the stage she finally feels like she could breathe, a successful charity and an upcoming trilogy but all people were obsessed with was about her love life? She and Jackson agreed on keeping their relationship as private as possible away from the cameras but whenever there was a picture of them taken together it was always perfect, they seemed perfect but were they really?

Hey.. Saw what happened at the interview. Want to meet up tonight and talk about it after dinner?

Alex bit her lip, thinking about what she would reply.

Cant, I need to focus on my next book. Maybe some other time?

“Your highness, the SUV is ready for you.” Her assistant informs her.

“Thank you, Lily.” She said and headed off to get ready for her family’s dinner.

*****************

The Royal Palace - Ellie’s room

Ellie swipes through the racks of Designer gowns sent to her from all the top designers in Europe, she’s trying to choose the perfect gown for her upcoming 21st birthday party.

“So I’ll need two dresses, one for my entrance and the other for when I blow the candles. What do you think of this one for my grand entrance?” She asks pulling out a beautiful Navy blue ball gown with golden embroideries on it.

“It looks pretty.” Was MJ’s answer to every dress she took out and showed him. Ellie frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been saying the same thing to every dress I’ve shown you, how am I supposed to decide like that?”

“I’m a guy Ellie, I don’t have a keen sense of tayes when it comes to haute couture or fashion. All I know is that you’d look stunning in whatever dress you choose.”

“Ugh.. Give me a break MJ.” Viola groans, rolling her eye roll as she struts into the room. “Sorry I’m late dear old mummy had a dog emergency. She tosses a few shopping bags on the settee before rummaging through the rack for a few options, taking them out and laying them on the bed one by one. “Here, these are the ones that would bring out the colour of your eyes the most.”

“You're my lifesaver Viola, you know that right?” She beams, giving Viola a hug before taking a few of the dresses and trying them on in her closet.

“Nice to see someone finally decided to show up.” MJ shrugs at Viola.

Viola gives MJ an eyeroll. “Unlike you, I actually have a social life. Plus didn’t you hear me when I said I had a family emergency?”

“If by social life you mean sleeping around with half the court then hard pass.” MJ claps back, making Viola scowls. In MJ’s defence, he has caught her a few times hooking up with other nobles, most of them already had partners. The last time he caught her was during a party at his uncle Bertrand’s estate, he was on the way to the garden when he saw her coming out from the tool shed looking slightly disheveled and coming out after her was none other than his cousin Bartie.

The disgust on his face when he found out his cousin was hooking up with her when he was engaged to someone else. When MJ confronted Bartie, he said it was a mistake and that it won’t happen again. He made MJ promise not the tell his fiancé and MJ agreed, only because Clara was a nice girl and she didn’t need to get hurt by one mistake.

“So what do you guys think?” Ellie asks as she steps out of the closet and twirls around in her dress. MJ eyes go wide open and his jaw drops. “You look beautiful Ellie.”

“Usually, I don’t agree with MJ but I’ll make an exception for this. You look drop dead gorgeous.” Viola exclaims.

“Really? Thanks, but I’m still putting it in the maybe pile. These dresses are really pretty, I just. I don’t know.”

“Well if there’s nothing you really like, what about the dresses you’ve designed?” MJ suggested. “I’ve seen your sketches Elle, they’re really good.”

“I would be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind. But my mom pulled a lot of strings to get me all these dresses.”

“I’m sure she would understand besides it’s your big day. You should tell her about it during dinner.”

“Then it’s settled, I’ll let my mom know during dinner.” She smiled.

*******************

Castelsarreillan Estate, Cordonia

Theon nods attentively with a forceful smile plastered on his face as he listens to King Eirik endlessly talk about his adventure back in the day.

It was like any normal afternoon for him, attending a diplomatic luncheon that was held at the Castelsarreillan estate. As the crown prince and future king of Cordonia it was his obligation to attend such events but recently for the past year he noticed those obligations were becoming more and more. His parents were becoming less involved and he could start to feel the weight of the crown getting heavier.

“I’m sorry your majesty for the interruption, but there’s some pressing matters that require his royal highnesses attention.” Natalia said, whisking Theon away from the crowd and to the otherside the room. “Thanks for that.” He murmurs into her ear. “I was beginning to think you’d leave me there just hanging. And by the way, thanks again for coming with me on such short notice.”

“Well what are assistants for. Speaking of you should really find your own assistant.” She said, raising an eyebrow at Theon. “I can’t babysit you all the time.”

Theon chuckles. “I’m sure my mom won’t mind if I borrow you for a little longer. Besides, you love babysitting me.” He said, giving her a playful wink.

Natalia chuckles. “Careful now your highness people might talk if they see your flirting with the help.”

Their coversation is cut short by someone who approaches. “Pardon me your highness but the Duke of Krona would like to have a few words with you.”

“Ah. Of course, I’ll be there a bit.” He said, turning to Natalia with his champagne glass raised. “Duty calls. Oh and have the helicopter ready by six, I wouldn’t want to be late for family dinner.”

***********************************

Kings Office, Cordonia.

Liam sat on his leather armchair slightly pushed back, absently swirling the glass of scotch in his hand while staring at the picture of his family on his desk. He had been ruling Cordonia for three decades and during his reign he managed to achieve peace and prosperity in the country like he had always hoped for. But he couldn’t have done without help from the love of his life.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Liam turns his gaze and smiles when he sees his wife standing by the threshold. “No, I was just thinking.” He places his glass on the oakwood desk. “About what?” Riley asks, sauntering towards him then takes a seat on his lap, wrapping one arm on his shoulder.

Liam looks at his wife, taking in the sight of her. The way she smiled and her dimples that showed when she did, even after she started to age she was still beautiful and he was still madly in love with her like he was all those years ago. “I’ve been thinking.”He smiles, tucking the lock of hair that strayed behind her ear. “I’ve had the most peaceful and prosperous rule throughout my reign as king. Granted there were a few imperfect moments. But everyone of them I got through because I had you by my side.”

Riley chuckles. “You give me too much credit love. But you would have been a great king with or without me.”

“Modest as ever.” He said with a smile. “I love you Riley, I know I’ve said it maybe a million times but every word of it is true.”

Riley leans in and kisses her husband on the lips, when she pulls apart she smiles warmly at him. “I love you too Liam but where is this going?” She gives him a questioning look.

“Riley, the both of us. We’ve been through alot together, we faced scandals, threats from our share of enemies, we raised four beautiful children together while running a country.”

Riley chuckles. “How could I forget, but everything was worth it because it made us stronger as a couple.”

“It has my love. But there comes a time in a king’s life when he just wants to be a man and enjoy every moment of his remaining life with his wife.” He takes her hand gently and traces soothing circles. “Liam, are you saying?”

“Riley, love. I have decided to resign as the reigning monarch by the end of this social season. We could finally spend all our days on that private island just you and me. No country to worry about no buzzing press, I really it’s time and Theon, Theon is ready whether he knows it or not. So what do you say my queen? Are you with me?”

“Are you kidding me?” She pauses, her expression serious, it was making Liam a little worried but she quickly changes it into a gleeful smile then kisses her husband on the lips once more. “Liam Rhys, I cannot wait to spend every single day of retirement and have you all to myself.”

Liam chuckles. “You deserve it.”

“We both do.” She adds. “So when do we tell the kids?”

“How about tonight, during our dinner?” He grins.

Riley leans in and kisses her husband one more time. “Sounds like a plan. Now I need to get dinner ready.” She abruptly stands and heads out but not before stopping at the threshold, turning towards her husband once more. “I love you, my King.”

“And I love you, my Queen.”

********

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[demaury]

On Film (or Between The Sheets) -- high school AU

CHAPTER 1. Life hasn't been the smoothest for Lucas in the past couple of months, family wise. When his dad ends up leaving the city to work in Paris, he's ready to do absolutely anything to be able to stay in his current school and keep his life on tracks. Anything. Even becoming a film student and moving in dorms. (read on ao3)

MERCREDI 12:41

If you were to ask Lucas how he’s managed to find himself in a situation like this, he’d probably have to explain quite a few things, but it’s pretty much a given that one of those things would be that, originally, he doesn’t even care about cinema all that much.

Certainly not enough to pick it as his main option for the BAC, that’s for sure.

“Come on,” he hisses through gritted teeth as the camera sways dangerously back and forth on its tripod.

Why is this not working? Why does the fucking world hate him that much?

He swears he’s been there for ages, crouching down and trying so fucking desperately to get that stupid camera to somehow fixate itself on that fucking support. His eyes travel around helplessly, but everyone’s busy around him. To be fair, it’s not like he’s exactly counting on it. There’s a schedule on the wall behind him, whose sole purpose is to remind them that they need at least three more pairs of arms each to be able to function with the shitload of tasks they were assigned at the beginning of the week.

A group of three third-years are glued to a computer screen and obsessing over whatever video editing software they’re using, two first-years and Emma are in the middle of filming an interview in the couch area of the movie theater hall, and Arthur’s gone seeing whatever movie he’s been assigned to watch. He briefly considers running outside to beg Alex to come help him, but the guy’s smoking with a third-year friend and Lucas doesn’t think he’d survive the humiliation of being brushed off, so he just sucks it up and focuses back on that stupid tripod instead.

If his teacher is back before he’s set it up-

“What are you doing?”, asks a voice behind him, just after he may or may not have clinked the camera a little harshly out of spite.

Lucas’ head snaps to the side, cheeks burning from being caught red-handed. He’s fucking sweating when his eyes meet Eliott Demaury’s questioning ones.

Of all fucking people, he screams to himself.

“I can’t get it to… I don’t know, fixate itself,” he says weakly.

He doesn’t even know the proper words for all that shit, how come are people even expecting him to put it all up on his own?

Eliott cocks an eyebrow. “Well, I’d say that smashing it probably won’t solve it, but I’ve never tried that either,” he shrugs with a smirk.

Lucas gives him a look. “Fuck you,” he mumbles, half-astounded by his own bravery. He turns his back on him, since the last thing he needs is some third-year know-it-all to make fun of him, and refocus his attention back on the biggest problem at hand instead. “If Chassart is back before I’ve finished setting this up, he’s gonna fucking kill me.”

“C’mon, let me help,” Eliott says as he crouches down next to him.

He reaches out to grab the camera, and Lucas glances at him from the corner of his eye before letting him. It’s not like he’s gonna do any worse than nothing, Lucas admits begrudgingly. Eliott starts fumbling in his jeans pocket, holding the camera nonchalantly from his other hand, and eventually he exhumes a coin that was apparently lost in there. Lucas barely holds back a snide comment — really, who still uses coins these days? —, but every bit of sarcasm fades out instantly as Eliott flips the coin expertly between his fingers. Next thing Lucas knows, he’s using it as a makeshift screwdriver to loosen the screw at the top of the tripod. Just like that, with a few movements that go way too fast for him to process and a satisfying click that he was so desperately waiting for a minute ago, the camera is fixated infuriatingly fast on its support.

He wants to die. Or at least for the fucking ground to open under his feet and swallow him.

Eliott tucks the coin back in his pocket like it’s nothing. “There you go,” he says casually, nudging the camera in his direction.

If only it was arrogance or made-up casualness, but really, no matter that Lucas talked with him a total of one time throughout his life, he knows Eliott is just that guy. Nice. Helpful. Exasperatingly good — a fucking natural. No wonder why he’s become Chassart’s favorite in no time. He’d be mad, jealous even, if being in the man’s good books was on his to-do list, but as it is he just wants to make it through that stupid hellweek that is his first film festival ever in one piece, and fuck the rest. If they’re being mistreated this way for a second-class film festival, he can only imagine how shit goes down when the third-years go to Cannes.

Cheeks burning and jaws clenching, he mumbles a small ‘thankyou’.

Eliott shrugs. “Why didn’t you just ask them before?”, he says, pointing at the trio of third-years on their computer from his chin.

“Didn’t want to bother,” Lucas groans, dropping himself flat on the carpeted floor.

It feels like forever since he even sat down, courtesy of a particularly busy morning.

“So you were just gonna wait for Chassart to come and yell at you?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

Eliott snorts and sits down, mirroring Lucas’ position. “Aren’t you supposed to team up with a third-year at least?”

Lucas swallows down a mean comment. Grow a pair, Lucas, I’m not here to fucking babysit you, is the last thing Léonie, the bitchy-third-year he was assigned to work with for the week, told him before turning on her heels with an overly exasperated sigh.

“Léonie’s gone to watch one of the movies,” he simply says, settling for a neutral observation.

He’s seen him hanging out with her quite a few times since Eliott arrived last September, the last thing he wants is to piss him off by being a bitch about one of his friends — even if said friend is the actual bitch.

“She told you to fuck off?”

Lucas glances up at Eliott, meeting his disturbingly beautiful eyes. “Kind of, yeah,” he admits.

Eliott hums noncommittally. “Who else is in your group?”

“Emma,” he says, gesturing at the couches where his friend is busy holding the fishpole over the film director they’re interviewing, “but she’s replacing someone missing in another team, and, uh, Maria I think. She’s a first-year.”

Obviously he had tried to team up with Arthur, but Chassart had purposely put them in different groups to ‘avoid any incident’, as he had said — what an asshole, he could have said he just wanted to feed off Lucas’ struggles at this point. He doesn’t bother enquiring about Eliott’s. He knows that one of his classmates, Sarah, has been literally close to fainting when she found out she was in his group.

“You can join mine,” Eliott says casually after a second.

Lucas quirks a brow. “I’m not sure this is how that works.”

“Not my point,” he waves. “We can make a trade. No offense but I’m sure Léonie would be happy.”

Lucas flips him off, offended, and Eliott starts laughing — the sounds sends fucking butterflies in Lucas’ stomach. Before he can even say that Sarah would murder him with her bare hands for being kicked out of Eliott’s group, he’s already standing up in a jump and walking right to the white board where the schedule is written, slaloming his way between the group of third-years and their chairs occupying most of the space.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lucas whisper-screams as he bolts up and follows suit, just when Eliott wipes Sarah’s name off the board. “Do you have a death wish or what?”

“Chassart likes me, he won’t say a thing,” Eliott shrugs, then he pauses halfway through wiping off Lucas’ name too and turns to him. “Unless you like being mistreated?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Are you fucking serious now?” Lucas huffs, another wave of laughter erupting from deep within Eliott’s chest. On the other side of the lobby, a flock of people is emerging from the depths of one of the dozen auditoriums, making his attention snap back to reality. Chances are that Chassart will be here in a matter of minutes, maybe seconds even. “Alright, but just move your ass already!”

Eliott grins, blinding, and wipes the few other mentions of Lucas on the schedule, while Lucas is busy fumbling on the table aligned against the wall to find the black pen they need. He manages to find it under a bunch of papers sitting there and to toss it in Eliott’s hands. He has to admit, Eliott’s recklessness forces the admiration. Chassart is a bit of a psycho, there’s no fucking way he’s getting away with it.

And yet. He keeps watching as Eliott is writing his name down, in small caps that he isn’t even remotely trying to make similar to their teacher’s messy handwriting, until it’s all done and Eliott closes the pen with a satisfying click of the cap.

“Lucas!”

They spin around in time to see their teacher walking inside their designated area of the lobby. “What are you doing here?” Chassart asks bluntly, ever so amiable. “And what’s that camera doing here? I told Léonie that the interview was delayed to this afternoon!”

Lucas’ stomach churns and he hates it. Fucking asshole, he thinks, but he doesn’t really know if it’s about Léonie or about Chassart.

“I took Lucas with me,” Eliott says, barely more serious than he was two minutes before — meanwhile, all the fucking alarms go off in Lucas’ head, as Chassart’s eyes dart onto Eliott. “I needed him for something, so I made a trade.”

There’s a one-second blank, and behind Chassart’s back, Lucas can see Arthur making a ‘what the fuck?’ face. I’m going to die, that’s what’s happening, he wants to say, and if telepathy really is working then maybe Arthur will be able to remember his last few words.

But to Lucas’ astonishment, Chassart seems to deflate.

“Really,” he says after a pause, but it doesn’t really sound like a question. He heaves a sigh. “Alright. Whatever, if that works best for you,” he groans with an eyeroll.

A first-year slides in next to them at this moment, and it’s a much-welcomed distraction that allows Lucas to start breathing again. Chassart looks at the kid, who blabbers a question, when something nudges Lucas’ arm. His eyes jump onto Eliott, who lets him know with a subtle movement of his chin that it’s fucking time to move.

“See?”, Eliott says to him once they’ve retreated a couple of meters away. “I told you it was going to be fine.”

“Tell that to my fucking heart,” Lucas mumbles grumpily.

MERCREDI 13:01

“Why did you pick cinema as your major now anyway?”

Lucas looks up from his kebab, halfway through making a fool of himself thanks to an uncooperative tomato. Eliott’s questioning eyes are on him, which would be fine if they weren’t so piercing and intimidating all at once that his skin literally prickles under them.

They are on their five-minute lunch break, but rather than running like madmen to the McDonald’s next door to wait in line desperately long for a mere box of chicken nuggets and a few cooling French fries, like they all did twice a day since the beginning of the week, Eliott insisted that they push their luck to the kebab place across from the crowded parking lot.

And, well, like most things with Eliott Demaury, apparently, it had all gone too fast for Lucas to even process. Before he even realized they were ordering food and sitting down to eat.

Just the two of them. In a particularly silent restaurant.

That too would be totally fine. In another universe. Where he doesn’t have to smear mayonnaise all over his face and end up with a mouthful of tomato and kebab meat when Eliott Demaury happens to be willing to make conversation.

He has to bite down onto the sliced vegetable to tear it into pieces and free himself from the embarrassment, which ends up feeling like the longest seconds of his life. “I wanted to stay in that school,” he says after hastily swallowing down. He reaches for a paper napkin to wipe his mouth clean. “My dad moved away and since it was no longer in my designated area, it was the only solution. That or European section, but I know basically three words in English and my grades aren’t good enough to get in there, so yeah,” he shrugs and spreads his hands, “here I am, I guess.”

Eliott’s brow furrows, and it makes Lucas swoon a little bit. That story isn’t even remotely interesting by any means. But somehow, there’s something in Eliott that makes it seem like it’s a big deal that deserves his undivided attention. He’s not even sure his dad gave him half this amount of attention when Lucas told him about his plans for the new school year.

“You literally went from S to L just to stay in that school?”, Eliott asks, looking surprised.

Lucas makes a face. “Yeah. Stupid uh? To be fair I was lame with science and physics. I only liked math.” He realizes something just as he’s picking up a French fry in his plate. “How do you even know I was a S student?”

Eliott takes a sip from his Coca Cola before answering with a grin. “Alex is pretty chatty at night. I guess that’s the only perk of being the new guy, everyone wants you to have the audio-detailed version of everything that went down, ever.”

The way he has to look at him, waggling his eyebrows once to mark his words, makes Lucas feel naked and exposed. How much did Alex tell him exactly? How much does Alex care about him anyway? They do hang out sometimes, and Alex has been dropping by every now and then in the dorm he shares with Arthur and Basile, but that’s mostly it. Ending up in a street fight with him doesn’t magically forge lifelong ties, so he does wonder. It’s always been a strange feeling to think that people might care about him, especially when it’s someone he barely knows. The most he’s talked with Eliott until today has been a quick ‘hi’ at some point last September — a little breathy on Lucas’ part, actually. Really, not his finest moment. But if anything, he blamed it (and still does, and will probably keep blaming it until his dying breath) on the fact that he hadn’t expected the new third-year to look like that. If he had gotten the memo, then maybe he’d have reacted otherwise and not looked like he had been struck by lightning.

“What about you?”, he says, trying to sound casual as he grabs a few fries. There’s the nagging reminder, at the back of his head, that they’re supposed to hurry the fuck up if they want to make it back in time for the movie, but it’s not fair that is only shot at talking with Eliott should be reduced to nothing just because. “Why did you switch schools just before the BAC?”

He’s heard stories, or rather theories, about why he transferred, but if anything they all seem pretty stupid and rarely seem to work with reality. Last time he heard about it, he was chilling with the drama kids in their assigned work room at school between two periods, and Daphné said, with a trembling voice, that he had gotten involved with shady kids at his former school, including some who had a record already. He could not really tell if it was supposed to be a bad thing or not in Daphné’s books, given her excitement over sharing that particular rumor.

Eliott doesn’t really acknowledge that he’s talked for a good minute, looking too absorbed in the content of his plate to bother, and Lucas wonders briefly if he should repeat himself or not.

After an agonizing silence, Eliott finally glances up, looking awfully serious. “My parents sent me away from Paris because I helped my twin sister run away with her boyfriend,” he says, and Lucas blinks slowly, trying to keep his eyebrows from jumping up. “They didn’t approve of their relationship, and we’re like, related somehow. A whole mess.”

For a moment Lucas doesn’t say anything and simply stares, silently, as Eliott takes a sip from his drink.

“Did you really just give me the shitty plot of Riverdale?”, Lucas deadpans. A wide grin blooms on Eliott’s face, eyes crinkling and dimples popping out, and Lucas has no other option but to huff a laugh that sounds fonder than expected. “You’re such an ass.”

“But the fact that you’re finding it shitty makes me love you even more,” Eliott shrugs, crumpling a paper napkin between his hands.

He’s too busy checking the time on his phone to notice the way Lucas nearly chokes on his food — which, honestly, might be best for everyone.

MECREDI 17:48

The afternoon rolls around quickly, most of it being taken over by the interview Eliott is busy directing. At least the director is a nice guy in his forties who’s mostly grateful to have been invited at all, so it makes everyone relax a little — everyone except Eliott, whose level of concentration probably amounts that of a mine-clearer. Lucas, for his part, is mostly busy stealing glances at him, but it’s not like his job is a difficult one. Eliott has put him behind the monitor, so the majority of his task is just sitting on a chair behind the screen and making sure the fishpole doesn’t just appear at the top — The place where you’ll do the least amount of damage, Eliott has said, grinning, and he was rewarded by a kick of Lucas’ elbow in the stomach.

It should probably have bothered him, to be just an obstacle or something, but he can’t decently argue with Eliott’s reasoning, mostly because he’s right. He knows next to nothing about literally anything and he’d rather sit back and do nothing than to make Eliott mad at him.

He blames it on team work, that relevance that Eliott suddenly acquired in his life since this morning.

It’s because they’re working together and because Eliott Demaury is so much more used to all of this that suddenly the guy he’s been talking to only once prior to this day turns into the person he’s looking for in a crowd. It’s got nothing to do with his good looks.

“The movie’s about to start,” Arthur says after checking the schedule. “We should go now.”

Thanks to Chassart’s careful planning, it’s the most he’s heard from his friend since they left school after breakfast this morning.

Lucas doesn’t mean to do it, but while he hums in response, his body shifts towards where Eliott is standing. He’s chatting with Alex, retrieving his jacket from the back of his chair, and soon they’re already walking away to cross the lobby.

He blames the way his heart clenches on the fact that Alex could have told him to join too.

He knows Alex.

Alex knows him — well enough, apparently, to tell stuff about him to the new guy. It was only the least he could do, the polite thing to do. But he doesn’t, and Lucas simply stares as Eliott and Alex join two or three more of their classmates, before the group disappears in the depths of carpeted halls.

Yeah. It’s all because of Alex, he decides as he finally follows Arthur through the lobby.

[alex-baebae]

Immaculate

Chapter 17

Pairing: TOP X READER

I was quiet for a minute "yes, I don't wanna stay at my current apartment... Maybe I'm just paranoid but..." She interrupted me "no, no. I understand... See, I can lend you the money, but you have to understand that we are running a company, we just cannot do things like buying expensive stuff every time" she told me "yes mom, I know it, but this time is different" I explained "I cannot give you a permanent job, you're studying" she told me "but I need to support him, I-" she interrupted me again "I know, I know but you should be focused on the university. I'm not telling you that... both of you have to survive with the quantity of money I have been giving to you until now" she drunk some water "I'm gonna give you more money, but you're not going to work yet" she said "really?" My mom was getting mad "of course, do you think that I'm like that people who has no empathy?"

I smiled "no, you're not" I said "you know that I always wanted to have more children but... I couldn't, so I don't mind supporting someone else, okay?" She told me "yes, mom" I hugged her "thank you" I told her "you're welcome" she responded "but you have to do something" she told me, I just waited for her next words "buy him more clothes, because as you have explained me, you have not already bought him more than two shirts" I laughed a little "Mom! of course I have!" I paused for a while "but you know... I have not bought him more things because he didn't want and... he thinks he has to pay for those things somehow" I said seriously.

My mom looked outside she saw TOP happily playing with the dogs "take care of him, no one deserves what he has lived" she told me.

"Mom I have something else to ask you" I paused "tell my dad about this, I mean he is so sensitive and he probably felt bad if told him this the same way as I told you. This situation is harsh..." I paused again it was difficult for me to talk about this, I felt fury inside my heart, I really wanted to kill that girl "yes I will, don't worry".

"Sweetie" I went out, he had a broad smile "let's go to eat something" he nodded "I will play with you all later" he told the dogs, the he walked rapidly towards me "____" he held me "oh" I smiled and put my arms around his shoulders "are you happy?" I asked "yes" the first time I had asked him so... Maybe the first time he told me he was happy.

TOP's point of view

____... I like to think about her. She showed me house's photos, she wanted to buy a house. I didn't know why, maybe she was worried about 'her'... Because she was looking for me.

I loved to spend time with her. Before I liked to be alone, no one hurt me, no one touched me... But when I started to live with her, I didn't want to be alone, I didn't liked it because I somehow started to remember the hard times. That's why I wanted to do the housework however ____ didn't let me, I know... I could had hurt myself. Movies worked sometimes but... Not as doing something like cleaning.

When she was by my side, that thoughts vanished. When I was alone thinking about her had the same effect. Bit by bit I didn't want to be alone, maybe my heart was being cured, wasn't it?

...

Josh called ____, my heart hurt, it was a different pain... It was not like... permanent, it was like a punch inside my chest. I didn't want to look at her, I didn't want her to notice what I had felt so I looked to the opposite side. I could heard vaguely Josh's voice through the telephone, when he invited ____ to a party and when she immediately accepted I felt another punch... A tear fell over my cheek, I quickly cleaned it up with the back of my hand, fortunately she didn't notice.

Then she asked me to go with her, I hesitated because probably Josh didn't want me to go with her... She explained it better, I felt stupid... You know I was only misunderstanding everything.

...

The place she showed me was like the one I always had thought about. 'She' had a picture on a wall of her apartment, it was a close up of grass, it was pretty green, In the background was a blue sky... It was full of brilliant colors. I liked it very much I used to look at it for hours and imagine how the grass could fell between my fingers and on my face... It helped me to scape for a moment, it was like a light in that dark place.

When I had to 'work', when those people touched all over my body I used to close my eyes and thought about that picture, I imagined was there, alone... happy and safe.

My mind was there... in that picture, I just let my body react to the stimuli... I moaned, I quivered... until it ended... fortunately everytime I thought about that picture I was not able to remember what had happened clearly, it was less painful.

At some point everything went blank, my moans became loudly, the image was replaced by the void... everything was like a white sheet of paper. When that occurred I knew I had cummed, the image of the grass came into my mind again, however it used to disappear quickly, as trying to escape. I used to opened my eyes slowly, I didn't want to go back to the reality, I wanted to stay there, but that was not possible.

A ceiling or a dirty wall instead of grass, that's I always saw after they were satisfied... I had no option 'stand up' some of them used to said, I did as I had been told.

The guys or the girls who I had sex with opened their room door, she was there waiting for me. 'Put your clothes on' she told me everytime after she walked into the room. I cleaned my cum on my belly and their cum on my body, afterward I dress up quickly. Then we went out of that places after they payed her some coins for what they have done to me.

We arrived home, she gave me something to eat, she ordered me to take a shower, then I went to sleep at my place, it was like a closet... Enough large to lay down properly, the floor was always cold but it helped me to feel asleep rapidly, I liked those days because I was not beaten.

It also mean that the next day she was going to buy drugs so I was sure I was not going to be touched by her the next day, knew that gave me some happiness.

I don't know how much they payed for a pair of hours, I don't want to. They always complained about my body 'he's so f*cking slim, give him more food' or 'do not beat him so hard, he looks gross' sometimes 'his face is nice, but I cannot enjoy f*cking him seeing that body' I used to hear.

'I know, I'm ugly' I always thought.

In that moment I was there, in the place I always have dreamed to be in... But this time was better... ____ was with me. It was like God telling me 'don't give up'.

She introduced me as her boyfriend to Mister Vu... 'It's a little lie' I remembered her words 'I won't forget it is not real' I thought to myself.

What a mixed feelings, however I tried to keep a positive attitude, I really wanted to change my life, I tried my best. So I played a lot with the dogs, I smiled a lot, the dogs were so cute and kind...

"So what's going on the university?" Her father asked "it's going well, I'll show you my grades when this period ends" ____ told him. We were eating some pasta "it's about to finish, isn't it?" He asked again "yes we'll only have cultural activities, some professors wanted to give us more material for the next period, they said it was gonna be useful, so we have had classes" she said.

"What about you Seunghyun, do you like cooking?" He asked me interested "yes, I like to cook" I responded "that's nice! Finally someone who is interested in cooking!" He exclaimed "hahahah, you are obsessed darling" her mom said "no, I'm not!" He responded "so, Seunghyun are you going to help me tomorrow right?" He asked me "yes, of course" he smiled "so we are going to prepare the tastiest breakfast you ever have eat" he said to his wife "oh really?" They were joking around, they seem happy, I looked at ____ who was next to me, she was smiling... She looked at me too, I tried to avoid eye contact, I felt my face got hot, I felt so embarrassed.

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

Another chapter, hope you enjoy.

It takes me a while to post this job because as I've told you I'm not a native English speaker, so I have to search for some words in dictionaries, I have to read many times a single chapter and then correct my mistakes. I hope you understand.

Have a nice day!!! ❤️

Alex

[houseofvans]

ART SCHOOL | Q&A w/ Alex Chiu (PDX)

From hyper color drawings, doodles to wood cut outs and even full blown costumes, artist Alex Chiu brings to life some truly fun and imaginative creations. Not just one thing, Alex not only makes comics, animations and sculptures, but also worked as an art instructor at Walters Cultural as well as created a fun online show the MAZZY Show, where he cooks with his daughter Mazzy.  We’ve excited to chat with Alex, who is getting ready to work on a mural for Portland Transit, and learn about his approach to drawing, his favorite medium, and about his upcoming project with Portland Transit. 

Photographs courtesy of the artist. 

Introduce yourself Hello!  My name is Alex Chiu.  I currently live in Portland, Oregon.  I am an illustrator, arts educator, and stay at home dad.  I’ve been doing art professionally for about 10 years now.  My life has changed a ton since I had a baby a couple years back.  I’m figuring out how to balance a lot of things now.  For fun I tend to watch a lot of dumb internet videos.  I get sucked into video threads and end up watching YouTube garbage.  It’s my favorite thing to do.

When did you first start drawing? And what’s the earliest thing you remember making? I started drawing at a very young age.  I remember drawing sharks and fish over and over. As an adult I’ve found notebooks with pages completely covered with shark and fish drawings.  The notebooks were pretty dense and obsessive.  I still love to draw for the sake of filling up blank space.

You have a true doodler/drawing style–your works fill up the space imaginative and organically.  Can you tell folks what your art process is like? Do you sit with a blank sheet and just freestyle or do you find yourself adding stuff here and there? I started drawing all the time when I was around 19 or 20. Drawing was therapeutic for me and really helped me escape from the worries and stress of day to day life.  I loved the freedom of letting the image develop on its own over time. I used to start with a blank page and just go at it with ink.  Now a days I plan a lot more and think about composition and color scheme, but I still create work with the same sense of freedom.

From paintings, drawings, digital, sculptures, murals to comics, what’s your favorite medium that you’ve done so far?  What’s been the most difficult medium you’ve tried?  And, what’s a medium you’ve yet to try, and are dying too? Currently I really love stop motion clay animation.  The process is very automatic and from the subconscious; very similar to my drawing/doodling process.   I would love to convert my garage into a stop motion studio and create my own short films.  The most difficult medium for me is comics.  I’m not much of a writer, and it’s much more difficult to create stream of consciousness work in comics.  I have started many comic pages and have left 80% of them unfinished.

One of our favorite mediums you do are the comic you draw. When did you start drawing your first comics? What is it about comics that you love so much? Comics are fun for me and I love reading them, but they are super challenging for me to create.  I started focusing on comics when I moved to Portland.  One of my first, full stories was published in a “free comic book day” compilation called Master P’s Theater.  I drew a four page comic about a warrior rabbit called Butter Knives.  It was published by Sparkplug / Teenage Dinosaurs/ Snakebomb Comics in 2013.  I now regularly submit comic strips to Pork Magazine and one page stories to a comics newspaper called Vision Quest.

As a kid, I loved looking at comics for visual inspiration.  I was always blown away at the skill of comic book artists.  To this day, I don’t know how people do it.  I view comics as a warrior’s art form.  The energy, planning, and artistic ability it takes to write and draw comics and graphic novels is ridiculous.  I look up to full time comics artists a lot.  

Who are your favorite artists at the moment both past or contemporary? My favorite filmmaker is Alejandro Jodorowsky.  He is my absolute favorite creative person on earth.  I hope he lives forever.  Theo Ellsworth is a comics artist that has also changed my life.  I also hope that he lives forever.  Shout outs to Skinner, Eatcho, Wishcandy, Anna Vo, and Tripper Dungan.  I dig their work too.

Tell us about your work as an art instructor? What did you teach and how was that experience? What would you say to folks looking to follow a path as an art instructor? I have been an art instructor for about 5 or 6 years.  I teach kids and retired folks at art centers all over Portland and surrounding cities.  Some of the classes I’ve taught include basic drawing, comics, animation, zine-making, and print making.    

Just because an artist is good at art doesn’t make them a good teacher. Over the years I’ve learned that teaching and art making are two very different things.  It definitely took time to break things down so people could learn.  Teaching has more to do with communication and understanding how people work.  The key is to recognize the different ways that people approach art making and learn to help them steer rather than telling them what to do.  

You’re currently working on a mural for Portland Transit? How did you get involved with Portland Transit, and tell us about your mural? I was recently hired by Portland Trimet to paint a mural.  The Regional Arts and Culture Council were the ones that put me in touch with Trimet.  I was accepted onto the local Portland muralist roster in 2016 based on indoor murals that I have done in the past.

This mural is going to be done in a very different style than I normally do.  I have been using photo reference for this entire process and will be depicting things in a much more realistic style.  The space that I am painting has very long sections of low walls.  I’m choosing to handle each section as a panel in a comic.  I will be painting a storybook-like narrative about a day in the life of my 2 year old daughter as she interacts with members of her community.  I’m deliberately highlighting the cultural diversity and community interaction as the central themes of this project.

Having recently moved to Portland, how did you go about finding illustration work? Do you find social media helpful for that or do you have a different approach? Before I moved to Portland, I had met a number of people through the comics and art conventions.  I had shown work at Grasshut Gallery, owned by Bwana Spoons and had been acquainted with people like Jason Leivian, owner of Floating World Comics, and Scrappers, who was the arts editor of the Mercury at the time.  Portland was a very welcoming city and I was accepted into the arts and comics community very quickly.  I’ve been able to work on a ton of fun projects, with super talented people.  One project always seems to lead to another.  I’ve yet to experience a lull in creative opportunities and inspiration.  Portland is a great city to be an artist.

Yes, social media is great when it comes to sharing your artwork.  I enjoy the instant feedback I get from posting something online.  Occasionally, I get fun and interesting opportunities from requests on social media platforms.  I’ve built relationships with artist and fans from around the world with social media.  I love it.  I still miss MySpace.  

Favorite Vans? VW Bus, Eurovan, Toyota Previa

You also have an awesome family as well as super cool daughter Mazzy who you cook with and stars in your videos called the MAZZY SHOW.  These cooking videos with Mazzy have blown up all over the internet and are really adorable.  Was this just something you did because you were cooking with her a lot? Or was it just something creative for you to work on while you’re on dad duty? I started doing the Mazzy Show to make being a stay at home dad more fun.  It’s been a dream of mine to start a YouTube Channel, so I thought I’d start one with my daughter so I could do something creative with her.  Our first video was a pizza making video and the cooking theme just stuck.  I don’t normally cook a ton, but this project has taught me a lot of new recipes and sparked a growing interest in cooking.  People tend to like the Asian recipes that we do.  Some of our most popular videos include bubble milk tea, BBQ pork steamed buns, and mochi.  

What would you tell someone who is looking to follow in your footsteps? What is some of the best and worst advice you’ve gotten that you’d like to share? My best advice is to keep creating and have fun with your art.  If you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, do something else.  The worst thing that you can do is turn art making into a burden.  Also, don’t feel pressured to be a “professional” artist.  The key is to keep making art, be a part of the creative community, and enjoy life.    

What’s coming up for you the rest of 2017?  What about MAZZY :)? Life is totally unpredictable for me.  At this moment I am preparing for my mural project.  We’ve taken a break from The Mazzy Show for the past month or so because I’ve become busier.  I hope to keep making more videos with her.  Maybe we’ll do something different from cooking.  I’ve been wanting to work on more animated videos.  I’ve also been wanting to make music.  Maybe Mazzy and I will start a band or something.

Follow Alex Chiu Instagram | @artbyalexchiu Website | Alex Chiu

[samkelisiweblog]

The Road Within Us

https://rukminim1.flixcart.com/image/832/832/poster/g/a/x/athah-poster-wanderlust-the-road-within-athfkplaces556-medium-original-imaegq97tzm6kufb.jpeg?q=70

A little bit about the movie… it begins with Vincent who has been struck by tragedy. His loving, sympathetic divorced mother just died, leaving him, who suffers from Tourette’s syndrome, without anyone close to him. After being dumped by his distant, self-absorbed politician father Robert at a treatment center, Vincent befriends his roommate Alex, who has crippling obsessive compulsive disorder about cleanliness, and a free-spirited anorexic, Marie. Together, they decide to steal the car of Dr. Rose, who runs the center, and travel from Nevada to Santa Cruz, California, so that Vincent can honor his dead mother’s wish and spread her ashes along the Pacific Ocean.

I liked this movie and watched it till the end unlike most movies that portray mental illness in an unrealistic way. It made me happy because of how it portrayed each condition, how it affects the people around them and most importantly how it affects them and their whole lives since diagnosis.

Starting with Tourette syndrome (TS) it is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, stereotyped, involuntary movements and vocalizations called tics (Ninds.nih.gov, 2019). This film showed Vincent as having complex motor and vocal tics which was easy to spot from the start of the movie as it portrayed the tics in a realistic way also the director was able to show the character or personality of the person rather the condition alone because we all are humans and much more than what is wrong with us which managed to bring in humor as well and that is another point for the movie because it makes the characters more relatable and tries to remove the stigma.

This reminded me of a personal experience I just had a few weeks ago, there we had a lecturer who is based in a hospital and he came to lecture us on one topic he had tics but his were simple vocalizing tics which he seemed to manage even though they were still there but when he started speaking the students started whispering to each other and others laughing which was quite interesting seeing as how we’re supposed to know about mental illness now what to take away from this is the conversation that happened after the lecture where one student commented “He should reconsider his profession” and another saying “I couldn’t hear what he said because I was focused on his tics” now this just goes to show how we fail to look past the condition and how were not as accommodating as we think we are.

To be diagnosed with anorexia nervosa according to the DSM-5, the following criteria must be met: Restriction of energy intake relative to requirements leading to a significantly low body weight in the context of age, sex, developmental trajectory, and physical health. Intense fear of gaining weight or becoming fat, even though underweight. Disturbance in the way in which one's body weight or shape is experienced, undue influence of body weight or shape on self-evaluation, or denial of the seriousness of the current low body weight). In this film the character met all this criterion.

But the things that stood out besides the criteria is the reaction of people close to her such as Vincent asking her: "Why can't you eat? All you have to do is put it in your mouth." It is a question that many people constantly ask of those with eating disorders (National Eating Disorders Association, 2019) and this would have been the perfect avenue for the director to explore the issue and bring it some depth. And it also showed how it affected her which was a near death situation where her heart gave out and she had to be fed in tubes which was also hard for her.

Then OCD which is a common, chronic and long-lasting disorder in which a person has uncontrollable, reoccurring thoughts (obsessions) and behaviors (compulsions) that he or she feels the urge to repeat over and over (Nimh.nih.gov, 2019). Now the film did not show much character and symptoms for this condition, but it was able to cover some aspects and showed a little of how to tackle the symptoms using behavioral techniques.

Overall this film was showing how we should stop thinking of people as a diagnosis, that sometimes our needs make no sense: a need to know things are clean, a need to make a sound or move a certain way, a need to gain just an ounce of control over a body that so often isn’t under our control at all. But sometimes they’re the same needs as everyone else’s: the need to eat, the need to sleep, the need to feel accepted or even loved by the people around us.

If I were to rate this movie, I would give it a 7/10 because even though it was spot on which some aspects it could’ve gone further and deeper to address some important issues that we all need to know.

References

Ninds.nih.gov. (2019). Tourette Syndrome Fact Sheet | National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke. [online] Available at: https://www.ninds.nih.gov/Disorders/Patient-Caregiver-Education/Fact-Sheets/Tourette-Syndrome-Fact-Sheet [Accessed 30 Aug. 2019].

National Eating Disorders Association. (2019). Anorexia Nervosa. [online] Available at: https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn/by-eating-disorder/anorexia [Accessed 30 Aug. 2019].

Nimh.nih.gov. (2019). NIMH » Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. [online] Available at: https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/obsessive-compulsive-disorder-ocd/index.shtml [Accessed 30 Aug. 2019].

American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed.). Arlington, VA: Aut

[hefellforfiction]

Sleepover

Kara looked at the simple gray clock on Lena’s wall. It ticked away quietly, practically silent to the human ear. She saw it was about one. They had been binge watching a cartoon Kara herself was obsessed over and Lena casually liked. They had talked about little scenes, their favorite pairings. They argued if any of the villains were redeemable. Little things one faces in a fandom. Kara banned herself from looking through the tags on Tumblr. They picked it up after it ended, so she feared to get it spoiled.

They had watched most of it before and were finishing up the series that night.

Lena was currently in her kitchen making them hot chocolate. She was humming a song Kara didn’t recognize. It was recent and she kept her tastes more nineties or early two thousands. Stuff Alex would listen to religiously when Kara first showed up on Earth

The outside weather was heavy rain and the flash flood warnings had spurred Kara to bring her super suit. Though she worried what she would do if a disaster occurred. She hadn’t told her girlfriend yet of her secret identity.

Part of her was scared to tell her. She wondered what reaction she would get from her girlfriend. Would she laugh? Would she cry? Would she be happy? Scared? Angry?

She shook those thoughts away as Lena walked into the living room. “Now, time to finish this.”  

“I’m not ready,” Kara groaned as she took her mug from Lena.

“I am. This is where it gets good.”

“This is where it gets gay,” Kara said. She had caught the vague ending from a coworker whose kid watched the show. Lena raised her eyebrows, saying “that’s why it’s good.” “I’m seeing why you and Maggie are becoming close. You two own your sexualities far too well.”

“You Danvers girls should too.” Lena smiled and kissed Kara’s cheek. They cuddled as the rain poured and action took place on Lena’s television.

A scene switched. Kara chuckled. “They’re doing the thing!”

Lena sighed and stroked her fingers through Kara’s curls. The woman was what happened when gay nerds grew up. A little.

“They were engaged. Of course, they are.” Lena sipped her drink as Kara let out a series of squeals.

“They’re alone! Are they going to kiss? I think they’re going to kiss!” Kara shouted.

“Shh…”Lena kissed her forehead.

“They’re going on a trip. There’s the portal.” Kara covered her mouth and squeaked. “They’re holding hands! What’s going to happen? Lena? I’m unable to handle this!”

She rolled onto the floor with a thud. “Where’s the rest of it?” She was making noises Lena could only describe them as a dying whale’s final testament.

“It’s a kid show. They wouldn’t put a kiss in there.”

“They should have! Kids are gay.” Kara sat up. “I was a gay child and never knew! Girls are so amazing. Have you seen them? Lena, you are a girl. You should know.”

Lena chuckled. “Let’s get ready for bed.” She helped Kara up.

Lena went up and worked through her nightly ritual. She washed her face and then put on a bright blue mask to hydrate. She came out of the bathroom as she set a phone timer.

“Whoa! What’s wrong with your face?” Kara’s eyes were wide.

“It’s a face mask?” Lena looked down at her. “Have you never used one?”

“No?” Kara had a block of text on her phone screen and was trying to hide it. It didn’t take an expert to know she had ventured onto some fan fiction website. Lena grabbed the blue jar from her bathroom. “What are you doing?”

“Sit still.” Lena started to smear the thick concoction all over Kara’s face using a brush.

“It’s cold and sticky.” Kara scrunched up her nose.

“Don’t crinkle your face.” Lena put the jar on her nightstand.

“How long do I have to wear this?” Kara whined.

“Fifteen minutes.” Lena looked at her girlfriend. In an odd way, she looked cute. It was the least put together she had seen a lover. Her relationships were never so comfortable. But with Kara, it was like she was dating the human manifestation of the feeling one gets when they climb into a bed with clean and still warm sheets.

“Why are you smiling?” Kara asked. “I look terrible, so I know it’s not that I’m beautiful.” She looked back down at her phone.

“One, I can tell you’re reading fan fiction about Korra and Asami. Two, you look like an alien. And three, you do look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

Kara blushed and started to stutter out. “What—no—I’m not—“ She started to laugh. “You’re funny, Lena.” She sucked in a bit of air. Will I be caught because of this mask? She looked at her girlfriend. Fuck, she’s staring. I’m caught. It was nice while it lasted. Goodbye Lena.

Lena laughed and kissed Kara. It was a quick peck, cautious to not get a mouth full of the mask on Kara’s upper lip. “You’re the best.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not perfect. And before you get offended, I mean it in the most sincere way.” Lena pushed her hair, trying to keep it from brushing across the mask. “I’m not intimidated about dating you. I just can jump in and live in the moment with you. That is a luxury for me. I’ve been taught to stand on the edge. I’m supposed to think about every damn thing I do and wonder how it reflects on me.”

Kara looked down, fighting a smile. She wanted flail helplessly, unable to take how perfect Lena was. “So can I take this off?” She asked awkwardly, not knowing how to reply.

“Oh…yeah.” Lena looked down. She started to peel away the blue mask on her own face.

“Wait! What is that?” Kara gasped and started to pull at hers. “My gods! This is so cool!”

Lena raised an eyebrow, but Kara was distracted. It was similar to how Rhea spoke she noted.

Kara had gotten every bit off. “Can I do that again?”

“Next time you sleep over.” Lena smiled and took off her own. She tossed the remains and slumped back in the bed.

Kara cuddled up to her side and looked at her phone screen. “My OTP.”

“I thought that was JT and Britney.”

“I have more than one OTP,” Kara deadpanned, not looking up from her phone screen.

“Then it’s not an OTP.”

“Watch me have multiple OTPs, Luthor. Sit back and watch.” Kara shut her phone and put it down on the nightstand.

“If you start writing fan fiction, I’m taking away your internet.” Kara simply pouted. She reached and turned off the lamp on the nightstand.

“You’re a villain.”

“It’s in my blood, Miss Danvers.” Lena kissed her cheek.

“No, it’s not. I’m convinced it skipped over you. You didn’t get a pinch of evil, but a whole bucket of lesbian.”

Lena snapped her fingers. “Drat, you’re right.” She chuckled and kissed Kara’s cheek. “You have the mask in your eyebrows.”

Kara sat up. “What?” She started to aggressively rub the arched brows, managing to mess them up and smear in the blue mask. “Lena, help me.”

Lena stood up and walked to the bathroom. She came back with witch hazel. She worked it through the blonde brows, getting the bits out. “What would you do without me?”

“Not have face mask in my brows and be reading Korrasami without harm.”

“Ouch.” Lena touched her chest over her heart and scrunched up her brow. “That’s just cruel.”

Kara flopped onto the bed. She held Lena close when the woman settled in. “It’s weird to think…that months ago I was about to vow to never fall.” She looked up at the ceiling, a line of city light skewing across it. “Now, I’m here. Our first time sleeping in the same bed. It’s…warm.”

“It could get warmer,” Lena whispered. Her fingertips brushed over Kara’s bare hip as her t-shirt rode up. She reached and put her hand on Lena’s.

“I want to wait a bit longer. I like this.” She smiled, hiding some nerves and apprehension. “To just watch tv shows and mess around. I want to do a face mask with you, bicker, and kiss you until you fall asleep. I want to make your coffee for you in the morning and give you a kiss after you drop me off at work but before I have to take the third degree from Snapper.” She cupped Lena’s cheek, cradling her cheek.

And I fear what my strength could do to a mortal. Kal has had a normal life, but he’s had a chance to figure it out. I don’t want to hurt you.

The thought called at the back of her mind. The moment gave her realizing there were tears prickling in Lena’s eyes. “Hey, why are you crying?” Kara whispered. She kisses away the tears sliding over her cheekbones. “That was sappy! Be happy. Laugh and call me a ridiculous woman.”

“You are!” Lena laughed and sobbed. She hugged her tight. “It’s perfect. I just said you weren’t, but then you do perfect things…”

“I’m just saying, I want to live with now. The future will be good if we just go on. Our lives will be busy and complicated. If we do little things when we can, we will last longer than if we tried the broad strokes all the couples do in the movies.” She smiled.

Lena kissed her. There the kiss was longer. It should’ve been a lazy kiss before they settled in. Yet, it wasn’t. A bold pressure was applied and they held each other with the silent fear of losing each other. Their lips weren’t greedy, as both feared to scare one away with their neediness. In the moment their anxieties thrived and calmed.

Kara cupped Lena’s whole face, her fingertips touching the remaining tears. She screwed her eyes tight and pulled Lena back into the kiss when she started to pull away. She wanted to kiss until the woman smiled. Until her cheeks were pink and she would giggle and call her silly. Lena Luthor…was her most important mission.

Kara pulled Lena on top of her. The weight in a way was reassuring as their lips parted. It sated her so she didn’t immediately pull Lena back down for a kiss. They just lied there, breathing a bit heavier than a resting breath. Kara stroked her fingers through Lena’s dark hair, the long and straight strands easily allowing her digits to pass.

She opened her mouth, three words hanging off her tongue. She bit them back, knowing quietly she could express them a lot better. She pressed her lips to Lena’s forehead. She tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind a pale ear before kissing the tip of the ear. She got a pleased hum in response. Her hands stroked over the brunette’s back, rubbing soothing circles into the skin. Her touches held no haste or lust. They were lazy, a gentle sign of her affection.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be tonight,” Kara whispered, not truly realizing how much those words calmed anxieties and had potential to end wars in Lena’s mind. She could tell outside the rain had slowed, pelting the windows gently and leaving phantom patterns on the wall as light refracted through the droplets.

“Me either,” Lena mumbled, half asleep. Kara pulled the duvet over them. She looked and saw Lena’s eyes drawing closed. She smiled and shut her own.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Seal Lullaby: Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is up! Thanks so much, as usual, to all my fantastic beta readers who are just the best people in the world ever and I love them, @minky-for-short @childofdustandashes @purearcticfire

Also thank you so much to @blow-us-owl-away who did some absolutely amazing fan art for chapter one!

Eliza found, over the next few days, that it was actually a little alarming how easy it was to hide a stowaway right under her parents’ noses. They apparently just didn’t question it when she suddenly disappeared to her room for hours at a time, claiming she had some scraps of homework still left to do when really, she was helping Alex build himself a little nest out of blankets and sheets; he seemed to find it impossible to sleep unless he was in a tight, enclosed space. They just shrugged and believed her when Eliza hummed casually that oh, she must have been mistaken, maybe they didn’t buy ice cream after all. When in actuality, Alex had eaten pretty much two cartons by himself in the space of an hour, his eyes wide and more awed by the taste of double chocolate cookie dough than they had been by anything else in the human world. It was quickly becoming clear that junk food was his weakness, what had started off with Eliza sneaking him some Doritos to cheer him up because he was looking a little morose had blossomed into a full obsession that left her wondering how she was going to throw out all of those wrappers and empty packages without arousing suspicion.

Junk food may have been top of Alex’s list but books came a very close second. She’d offered him full use of the little library that sat in the corner of her room here at the beach house, looking a little weak in comparison to her vast rows and rows of shelves at home but it may as well have been the library of Alexandria to her new friend. Within the first day, Eliza’s jaw had dropped when Alex proudly told her he’d read every one and did she have any more, those were so good, especially maybe some more ones about all the different animals, that one was amazing, was she sure that there were really these things with super long necks and spots because that just seemed crazy…

Her parents also apparently didn’t pick up on how tired she was getting, how she was nearly falling asleep at the breakfast table or nodding off as they watched TV on an evening, almost as if she wasn’t getting any sleep at all.

Which, of course, was the truth though her parents never seemed to put two and two together. They never even suspected that, as soon as they went to bed, Eliza was pulling on the warmest clothes she could find and sneaking out onto the beach with Alex (who never seemed to need anything more than a t shirt and shorts, despite the chill of the night). With a flashlight, they combed every inch of the beach for Alex’s pelt, searching amongst the sharp grasses to see if it had snagged there, in the rock pools to see if it had collected in one of the puddles, becoming a temporary home for the tiny crabs and delicate starfish. They even strayed further off the beach than Eliza had ever been, right the way over to where the familiar stretch of sand became a cliff face with its defences of jagged rocks and caves that seemed to be full of nothing but thick darkness, where they had to time every movement carefully and make desperate runs between pockets of sand before the waves came crashing in to snag their ankles and pull their feet out from under them. Eliza could feel her heart pick up to a worrying pace every time they found themselves over this way.

Alex had no fear at all, ploughing on with a fierce kind of determination and focus that he never had at any other time. He dove into tight caves that Eliza stepped back from, shaking her head, and risked very near misses with the waves that held god only knew how many riptides and currents and scrambled up the cliff faces, not even flinching as footholds crumbled away underneath him and he nearly went pitching onto the rocks. Eliza tried to call him back, fear bubbling in the pot of her stomach, but either the wind whipped her voice away or Alex just didn’t care. More than once Eliza had been left shivering and wide eyed with worry on the sand, counting out the seconds in a shaking voice, praying frantically in her head until she saw him reappear and she could breathe again.  Every time he came back with disappointment writ across his features, the look of a person who was aware of time running out, places left to look becoming fewer and hopes growing thin.

Four dawns had chased them back to the house for a quick, hurried breakfast (usually of chicken soup; Alex didn’t understand the conventions of human mealtimes, he only knew what tasted good) and as much sleep as could be stolen before Eliza’s parents came knocking on her door to tell her to get a move on or was she planning on sleeping the whole day away? And still they had no pelt to show for their searching.

On the fifth unsuccessful return, when Eliza offered to make him some food, Alex just shook his head and mumbled that he was tired. His shoulders slumped and everything about him seemed wilted and mournful. He didnt even change out of the clothes he was wearing, apparently not caring that they were soaked and stiff with salt, he just crawled into his makeshift blanket fort and curled up, hiding his face.

Eliza sat on her own bed, her heart aching for him. The fact that they’d known each other for less than a week seemed like the most insignificant thing in the world; she felt closer to him, this strange, animated, curious boy, then she had to anyone else in her life. It was like the spark that had travelled between them the first time they’d touched had locked them together somehow. Like when he hurt, Eliza hurt too.

She could hear him then, the quiet, mournful little sniffling sound that brought tears prickling to her own eyes and that made up her mind. She came to the entrance of his tent and whispered softly, “Alex?”

She got only a damp sounding grunt in reply.

“Can I come in?” she whispered, “It’s okay if you don’t want me to but…I’m here?”

There was a long moment and then Alex’s voice, sounding very far away and ever so slightly confused, “You can come in.”

It was a bit of a squash with the two of them in such a small space, they found themselves in a bit of an awkward tangle, noses almost bumping together, Eliza’s legs across Alex’s, his head pillowed on her arm by necessity, so close that all she could smell was the slight tang of salt and fresh air that she was starting to realise was just Alex, it was part of him. Something about it felt like home to her.

“Why did you ask if you could come in?” Alex murmured, his voice much flatter than usual, with a bitter edge that sounded a lot more cutting in his accent, “I’m in your house. I’m your stowaway. Your…charity case.”

Eliza winced, seeing the shame and disappointment on his face as he used a phrase that was clearly unfamiliar to him but he felt its truth. Something drove her and she took his hand in her own, winding and locking their fingers together.

“Because it’s your space,” she told him gently but sincerely, managing to meet that searchlight gaze of his unflinchingly, “And you’re welcome here, Alex, you know that. I want to help you.”

It was Alex who looked away first this time, for the first time. A slight blush flared up across the angular valleys of his face, “Why?”

There was desperation in that one word, like it was something he’d been wanting to ask for a while now but had been too afraid of the answer that would come at its heels.

Eliza squeezed his hand, making him start ever so slightly, “Because…you need help and you’re my friend. I want you to get back home, I’d hate it if anything took me away from where…where I belonged.”

It was a lie.

Eliza knew that, she could taste it, she could feel it as the words stuttered and started in the small space between them, the soft warm glow of her bedside lamp through the bedsheets around them that made it feel like they were bathed in some ethereal light. The lie felt jarring in such warmth. It felt wrong.

The truth was right there behind her words, jostling at the back of her teeth like it was irritated at being shoved aside. No, she’d love it if someone took her away from this, this life that. she was only starting to realise since that morning on the beach, she despised. This life that made her feel so unsettled and so wrong, like a cartoon character spliced by some animation fuck up into a period drama. This was where she belonged according to all the facts and realities she’d ever known but it was killing her.

But this paled in comparison to the other seething lie; the idea that she wanted him to get back home. Of course, she didn’t. She’d only known this strange young…not even a man, this creature…except that felt too inhuman, too raw. Alex wasn’t like that, he was warmth and laughter and bright smiles and curiosity and saying her name with a kind of reverence that made her blush. Alex was life, he was everything she’d been missing. He was where she belonged. And saying goodbye to him now, watching him swim off back into the waves, back to a whole other world she’d never know, pulling them apart and reopening the divide between them that one freak storm had allowed them to accidentally cross. Eliza didn’t know if she could do that, it was going to break her heart.

She was going to have to, of course. What else was she going to do, keep him in her room for the rest of their lives? Smuggle him back to Albany in her suitcase? Build him a blanket fort in the corner of whatever high rise or brownstone in which she ended up avoiding her future husband who looked like he’d been factory assembled? As much as it hurt her, Alex needed to go where she couldn’t follow. She could see it in his eyes as he gazed at the sea from her bedroom window, in the way he’d pace at the shoreline during their nightly search parties like some magnetic force was pulling him back out there.

Eliza sighed softly as she looked into his dark eyes and saw waves crashing there. She knew she couldn’t ask him to fight against that, no matter how many lies she told herself.

“Thanks, Eliza,” Alex whispered, a small smile flickering across his face as he freed one arm to wipe at his eyes.

Despite all of the complicated emotions inside her, Eliza smiled back at him and she meant it. All she’d really wanted was to see him happy again. She could ignore the clouds gathering in her own mind; she’d always been good at that.

“We’re really friends?” Alex narrowed his eyes, his smile turning playful, “Do most people make friends by kicking them in the ribs?”

“You are never going to let that go!” Eliza hissed, giggles bubbling up as she swatted at his head making him retaliate by swinging a leg over her and going for the ribs, ticking furiously with deadly accuracy.

A fierce and quiet battle raged for a few minutes which ended with them dissolving into laughter, even more knotted together than they were before, tangled impossibly in the blankets.

“Of course we’re friends, idiot,” Eliza sighed fondly, catching her breath, “Don’t doubt that.”

His smile was so wide it made the corners of his eyes crinkle up a little and that held such a fascination for Eliza it scared her more than a little.

“Hey, um, seeing as this is my space…” he repeated her phrase carefully, “Can I ask you to stay? Sleep in here with me instead?”

Eliza realised just how close they were in that moment. In more ways than one, it felt like.

“Sure thing, I can stay in here with you. Scooch over,” she slid down beside him, making them a little more comfortable. It was actually very nice, having each other’s warmth and the safe closeness of the sheets overhead and the gentle light. It felt like an oasis for just the two of them, like everything that had been worrying them had to stay outside. In here, they were safe and they’d built it together.

Though it wasn’t like Alex had ever felt the awkwardness growing in Eliza’s chest like a weed. He seemed impervious to such things, shameless in an endearing and sort of reckless way. It came from having been alone so long, she guessed. So, he wound his arms around her and pillowed his head on her chest, wrapping his legs through hers, cuddling into her like it was the most natural thing in the world. And after a few heartbeats of pause, Eliza cuddled right back because maybe here, in this moment, it could be.

Eliza was straddling the line between asleep and awake, her brain foggy, but she distinctly heard Alex’s low, gravelly murmur, “It’s been so long since I didn’t have to sleep alone.”

He sounded so…grateful. So much that the melancholic weight it carried hurt a little. Eliza had no answer for him but to hug him even tighter, trying to put the promise she couldn’t make, the promise she couldn’t even let herself think, into that contact.

If she’d tried to say it out loud, if she’d tried to find the words, who knew what would have come spilling out. That she felt it too, the vulnerability of sleep in the arms of someone you trusted and truly understood. That she’d never felt so safe as she did in his arms. That she didn’t want him to leave, she didn’t ever want to leave this tent.

That, despite the almost impossible distance between them, despite the fact that they’d only known each other a few days, she was falling in love with him.

Eliza wasn’t sure what she’d thought Alex’s sealskin would look like.

She’d been picturing something more than a little grim, something tatty like rotting seaweed, something she’d been scared to touch. She’d never actually seen a seal up close? What exactly were you supposed to expect for an ethereal item that allowed shapeshifting between species?

She definitely hadn’t been expecting it to be so beautiful.

Eliza was the one who found it, she was always the one that searched further up the beach on the grasses and stone fields; Alex seemed anxious to stick to the shoreline. It was caught on the taller ammophila, hidden from the sea’s view in the valleys and slopes and rolls of the dunes. The storm must have thrown it back there like it was a trailing scarf on a light breeze. It certainly looked light enough to carry that way, it was almost translucent in the glare of her flashlight, like something spun and weaved. But at the same time, it looked oddly alive, animated, like the way the wind lifted it was actually its breathing, an unsettling trick of the eye.

It did look like seal skin. It was grey and dappled, holding depths of deeper blacks and blues, an impossible number of shades held within its surface. The fact that it was covered in fur was almost imperceptible, the hairs were so fine and translucent. Clearly it was built for speed and power Eliza couldn’t even imagine, the fact that it wasn’t of this world was obvious. Eliza was simultaneously afraid to go anywhere near it and compelled to run it through her fingers, wanting it and fearing it in equal measures.

It was a little like how she felt about Alex.

Eliza was entranced for a moment but the shivering in her own limbs brought her back. It was a particularly cold and wet night, rain hanging in the air like it was trapped on cobwebs. And she’d finally found what they’d been looking for. All she had to do was call for Alex, he’d be so happy, he’d be able to go home…

Eliza felt a chill grip her chest that had nothing to do with the weather. A thought grew in the back of her mind, something insidious and cold and bitter that she couldn’t ignore. As much as she was ashamed by it.

She didn’t have to tell Alex. He never came back here in the sand dunes, he was so far away. They’d yet to search the same space twice. He’d probably never come across it. Or she could take it herself, hide it away, he’d never find it. She’d never have to face that sickening moment where she watched him go, held him for the last time, watched those dark, intense eyes leave her life forever.

Eliza shook herself, wincing away from the thought, pushing it away with all her strength. She couldn’t do that to him. If leaving was what was best for him, then that was what she was going to do. That was what she wanted. It had to be.

“Alex!” she raised her voice over the wind, scrambling up the dune until she could see him, getting the legs of her favourite pair of sweatpants soaked in the spray, “Alex, over here!”

The roar of the wind was fearsome that night but Alex’s ears seemed oddly attuned to her voice, he turned and waved at her excitedly. She motioned him over, trying to set her face in a smile, trying to look happy.

Alex’s joy and relief to have his skin back helped, Eliza had no choice but to smile as he gasped and ran to take it in his hands with all the emotion of someone being handed back their left arm.

He stroked it against his cheek, feeling whole again as the constant anxiety in his stomach settled a little, “You found it! You found it, you got it back for me!”

Eliza wrapped her arms around herself, her expression soft, “Just like I said. Told you I’d make up for tripping over you. And for making you wear my pyjamas.”

Alex laughed, looking almost painfully happy, like it was constricting his chest, “You actually did it. I can…I can go back…”

The triumph and celebration suddenly flickered out and died. Alex stopped his excited bouncing, freezing as his hand closed around hers to pull her into his dance, spin her around. But instead they both stalled, eyes catching on each other, no sound but the wind and the waves.

“Um…” Alex looked shyer than she’d ever seen him, sudden coyness flooding over him like he didn’t want to face whatever was coming next but it couldn’t be stopped, “I guess I can…um, thank you for everything you did for me. That doesn’t even come close to covering it but…”

Eliza understood, she could see him struggling with words to describe this. She couldn’t blame him, it wasn’t like they made greeting cards for this kind of situation.

“You’re welcome, Alex,” she replied faintly, “I…meeting you was…”

She was suddenly blinking very hard and fast, an uncomfortable prickling building behind her eyes. She prayed he’d think it was just the wind. By the way he suddenly dropped her hand limply, she didn’t think so.

Another moment stretched between them, like currents were pulling them further and further apart, if they didn’t act soon it would be too late.

“Do you really want me to go, Eliza?” Alex murmured, his eyes wide. He clutched the skin to his chest like a child’s safety blanket. He had the look of someone who’d asked a question they knew might get them in trouble, it had just slipped out when they weren’t watching carefully enough.

Eliza swallowed hard, hugging herself tightly, “Well…”

Another lie made itself known, climbing intrusively up her throat. It would be so easy to open her mouth and let it tumble out but…Alex was being honest with her. Why couldn’t she do the same with him? Didn’t she owe them both that?

“I’m going to miss you,” she admitted in a small voice, “I’m really, really going to miss you, Alex. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Well no, you haven’t,” Alex snorted, teasing.

Eliza rolled her eyes though his joke did ease her tension a little, it made her think that she could say anything to him and not be afraid. “I mean I’ve never met anyone- human or otherwise- like you. You just understand me. No one else has ever managed that.” She gave a dry laugh that sounds unnatural and forced even to her.

Alex blinked, “Well, yes? Of course?”

Eliza narrowed her eyes, he was looking at her like she was missing a vital part of some puzzle she hadn’t even realised she was trying to do, “What do you mean?”

“We’re mates,” Alex explained slowly, tilting his head in that odd but sweet way he did, “I’m your mate. You’re my mate.”

She got the sense that he didn’t mean that in the way she knew. The way he said it, it had a different weight in his hands.

“Mates?” she murmured, feeling the power of it herself, confused by it.

Alex nods, his face saddening, his shoulders hunching a little, “Bonded. Soulmates. Selkies mate for life, you know as soon as you meet them.”

Warmth flooded Eliza’s chest as she tried to process this, as this unfamiliar concept that somehow described exactly what she’d been feeling fell into her lap. It felt like she’d known it for a long time but had simply forgotten. Alex was just helping her remember.

And still doubts tangled around her ankles and tripped her.

“But I’m not…I’m not like you, how can I be your…” she stammered.

“It’s happened before, it’s in the songs and stories,” Alex wilted even further, “But if you don’t want to...I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut. Stupid, it’s just stupid. I’m probably wrong, I mean, when our hands touched and…and that happened I was sure but-”

The pace and pitch of his voice was rising, his hands in his skin tightening and twisting. Panic was overtaking him; his skin was turning a grey colour and he looked ready to bolt. She couldn’t let that happen.

Eliza reached over, taking his hands. In doing so, she brushed his skin for the first time almost unthinkingly. Yet again she felt that charge between the two of them that she now had a name for, that pull. The sensation of the rest of the world slowing down around them even as their own heartbeats began to race and every sight, sound and smell became so much more real and almost uncomfortably close. Alex’s eyes widened, his lips parted a little.

“Eliza?” he breathed.

“I feel it too, Alex,” she gripped his hands tightly, “I promise I feel this too, I understand!”

As strange as it seemed, as many problems as this realisation threw up, they began to laugh. Mates. Mated for life. This idea ran through Eliza’s mind restlessly as Alex’s chill, calloused hands came up to cradle her face in the sweetest and gentlest gesture. It felt only natural as their lips came together, as her hands answered his own by resting on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe so she could press against him even more intently. No fear or hesitance, it was just the two of them. Eliza could almost swear they were surrounded by the warm glow of their safe space, back in her bedroom.

They had to pull apart for air but the light stayed, the feeling of everything somehow being okay in spite of all available evidence. They grinned at each other in bewilderment and joy, moving apart no further than they absolutely had to. Eliza ran her fingers across his skin, it was so incredibly soft and light, like nothing she’d ever felt before.

All of this was unlike anything she’d felt. It was all so new, dizzyingly so but she found she actually liked being a little out of her comfort zone. If Alex was the one waiting for her at the other side of it.

Eliza bit her bottom lip, “But I can’t go into the sea with you. If I could…”

She knew she would. She honestly would. But that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t have a skin like his, she was grounded in a way he wasn’t.

Alex shook his head, a frantic kind of hope in his eyes, “I don’t care. Eliza, I’ll stay here. There’s nothing for me out there without you.”

Eliza opened her mouth, relief and horror warring on her face, “Alex, you can’t. You…this isn’t…I can’t ask you to give up everything, your home…”

Alex gave a derisive snort, “Eliza, listen. All I have out there is loneliness. Fighting for every inch, having to constantly keep on the move so all the shit I’ve done doesn’t catch up to me. I’m so tired, Eliza, I was so close to giving up until I met you. You are my home.”

There were still so many questions and hurdles to cross. Her parents. Her planned future. She was in the midst of stepping off the path she’d been on for years, drifting away into god knew what, there were going to be consequences for that choice.

But right now, she didn’t care. Alex didn’t care.

They would just have to let the storm carry them.

[theshapeshifter100]

Guess What? I’m Not a Robot Ch34

Summary: A quiet few hours as they continue to carry on without Alex.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, mentions of suicide

Word count: 1,628

12.30PM Thursday 11th November 2038

The next day was quiet. No one really wanted to venture outside after what had happened yesterday. As the President had promised, the curfew had gone country wide, and many people who worked in industries mostly staffed by androids found that they didn’t have work to go to anyway.

There were reports of people crossing the border to Canada in droves, and unfortunately the few androids who had tried had all been detained.

Megan felt sick at that point. It was coming out now exactly what was happening to the androids that weren’t shot on sight. They were being taken to Recycling Plants, which, frankly, sounded much worse than being shot in the head. At least that was quick.

There was no word about Alex. The phone rang a few times, but when Julia checked and didn’t recognise the number, they let it ring.

The crock pot was running low, and after making sure that no one could see into the kitchen, Paul set about cooking. Everyone insisted that he didn’t have to, but it was something to do, something familiar. He had over a thousand recipes in his database, and each one could be altered according to taste, dietary requirements, and availability.

Megan joined him in the kitchen after a while, as he was cutting vegetables.

“I do not need assistance, thank you,” he pre-empted.

“I was wondering what you were making.”

“I am currently adding ingredients to the Crock pot, and once that is done I will begin making lunch. I was thinking grilled sandwiches.”

“Sounds good. Shall I ask what everyone wants?”

“If you would please. Oh, and I won’t do any extreme unhealthy options, such as chocolate and marshmallows.”

“Got it.”

Megan left him alone in the kitchen, and was back in ten minutes with a paper list. He could hear it, and he knew Megan would never remember the orders of seven people.

“Just pin it to the refrigerator please,” Paul nodded in the direction of the appliance, not pausing.

Megan did as he asked and hovered awkwardly.

“Is there anything you want me to do?”

“Other than stay safe?”

“You know what I meant. Why are you obsessed with that anyway?” Megan went over to the counter to watch him precisely cut tomatoes.

“I am not obsessed,” Paul defended.

“Then, why? I know you said you were comfortable at mine, but surely you only stayed out of nowhere else to go.”

What might be described as pain flooded Paul’s chest. “You honestly think that was the reason I stayed?”

“Well, it makes sense!” Megan responded defensively. “There can’t be any other reason to put up with me!”

“I stayed because I like you!” Paul cried, almost missing his knife strike.

“Yeah, fine, you like me now, but when you first became deviant?”

“When I first became deviant I was in the presence of a young woman who just admitted that she was suicidal,” Paul refused to pull punches. “I could not leave in good conscience. Was that what you wanted to hear?”

“Is that still not the reason?”

“I won’t deny it played a part,” Paul tipped the tomatoes into the bubbling stew pot, calmer now. “But it is far from the only reason. You, Megan, even when I was still following my program, never saw me as just an android. If I truly did not care about or like you even before then, even if I didn’t recognise it, then I would not have broken through my programming when I did.”

He heard Megan’s sharp intake of breath, and he knew she didn’t believe him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he tried a different tactic. “That voice in your head is telling you that I’m lying, that of course I’m just putting up with you and obviously I couldn’t have liked you before deviating because I had no emotions. That voice is wrong on all counts,” he turned to face Megan, who wasn’t looking at him. He knew her well enough to know that she was trying not to cry, and hating herself for it.

“I don’t know the ins and outs of android deviation, I can only go off of my own experience. However, I would think that while there is still a single act that makes you deviant, there is some build up. You, and admittedly the Beckwith’s, already had an effect on me. Please believe me when I say that I care about you.”

“Why?” Megan’s voice was thick with unshed tears. “Why do you care?”

Oh boy, she was in a spiral.

“Do I need a reason? You’re there to talk me through emotions I don’t understand. You’re there to talk me down when I get too angry over something, even though I know that scares you. You give me a purpose, even if it does follow close to my original programming.”

Megan was crying now, and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely sad tears. He slowly walked over and pulled her into a gentle hug. After a few tentative seconds her arms came around his torso to hug him back and she buried her face in his apron.

“I stayed because I wanted to stay,” Paul felt something settle in his mind when he said that.

“Thank you,” Megan mumbled, “I needed that.”

“I know,” Paul patted her on the back. “If boredom’s getting to you, how about you start getting ingredients together for the grilled sandwiches?”

That had probably been what had caused this. A long time of just sitting and thinking, and Megan’s thoughts had begun to spiral. It wasn’t guaranteed, but he wasn’t surprised.

“Okay,” Megan nodded and pulled out, wiping her snotty nose with her sleeve.

“Two things before you do,” Paul asserted. “First, find a tissue. Second, wash your hands. You’re preparing food after all.”

“Yes chef,” Megan smirked, her snarkiness shining through.

 6PM Thursday 11th November 2038

A few hours later Megan was helping dole out some of the crock pot stew. Again, she didn’t need to, Paul had it all in hand, but giving her something to do helped with her mood. You had to be careful not to give her something too easy, as any mistake would make things worse, and also being too easy would make her think he had a low opinion of her capabilities.

Paul struggled not to sigh. When she was in a bad way it was tiring to have to tip toe around every potential outcome, but what else could he do? In truth it was merely a small inconvenience for the benefit of someone else’s improved mental health. Not much different to having to walk a little more slowly with someone who broke their leg.

Everyone had basically chilled out all day, although Allison had been hunched over the table, trying to think of new ways to protest and how to organise a mass protest outside the Recycling Centres.

So far, not much luck, and she gratefully accepted a bowl of stew from Megan in order to take a break. Megan read over the sheet of paper Allison had been working on, and found it mostly full of scribbled out words and angrily crossed out ideas.

“Is protesting outside a Recycling Centre a good idea?” she asked after a minute to gather her courage, and Allison shrugged listlessly.

“It would be risky,” she admitted. “Just looking at the news they have a heavy military presence, and we have what, three definite branches? Us, Lucas’s sister and your brother. Alex had all the details, but I would guess there’s maybe thirty between all of us? Not enough, not even close to enough.”

Allison shook her head and shoved a spoonful of stew in her mouth. “I didn’t realise how much we need Alex,” she mumbled.

“You’ve been doing a good job,” Megan was quick to reassure, and Allison laughed.

“I’m hardly much of a leader, and as much as Alex and I disagree, we need those disagreements to get a plan together. The optimist and the pessimist. Together we usually make a pretty decent plan,” Allison ran a hand through her blonde hair.

“Not many people have that level of optimism and determination,” Megan noted, and Allison agreed.

“Yeah, dangerous levels if you ask me, but, that’s what got us off the ground,” she gestured to the rest of the group. “What got us here really.”

“Yeah, but if they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to keep Paul safe. I would have gone home to my parents and they’d have given him up,” Megan sat down in a nearby chair, upset by the thought.

“I suppose we can be glad for that,” Allison nodded. “He’s a good guy to have around. Patience of a damn saint.”

“You haven’t heard him swear,” Megan smirked. “Mouth like a sailor when he gets angry.”

“Paul? Angry? That I would pay good money to see!” Allison laughed.

“I’m surprised that he didn’t flip last night,” Megan noted. “That’s usually what makes him angry.”

“Nathan got there first. I’m going to be using that insult from now on.”

“Ignorant, incompetent, senile old bat?” Megan quoted. “Yeah, that’s not half bad.”

The two settled into a comfortable silence, only slightly broken as Paul handed Megan a bowl of stew with a meaningful look. She looked down at the bowl, not really feeling hungry, but knew he wasn’t going to let up until the bowl was at least half empty. She maintained stubborn eye contact as she took spoonful and put in her mouth before swallowing in an over exaggerated manner. Paul nodded approvingly before wandering off.

Allison watched the silent interaction with some amusement. Her bet was looking really good right now.

A fairly chilled chapter again, and short, but when you see the next chapter, I think you'll understand. That's when it hits the fan.

...I have a cold, and I will use that as an excuse for not being to think of other options. Although I'm not to sure there are many. As always, if you guys spot some I've missed I'd love to hear from you!

[thetouristtrapper-blog]

The Tourist Trap

I'm sitting here in my favorite café a few blocks from my house recollecting all the men I have taken here at one time or another.  Sean, who once moved here became the loyal steed in my stable. I'd at times even run into him here. Those times were fun. Bike rides and laughs. He's not around much any more but he's always someone I'm proud to have spent time listening to and engaging with. My way too old for me ex boyfriend, Noah. My best friend and former lover, Alex. Josh, whom I had met in Cambodia last summer featuring a week of explosive orgasms and tears upon departure. My most beloved Danny, who I had met while he was in town for a bachelor party. I managed to get him back down here for Mardi Gras. God I miss him. There was Matthew just last week who was only in town for a week but I lured him into my web and kept him close for two of those. We came for lunch before we headed to The Drifter for some micro dosing and swimming. The Barista who I've developed a crush on from afar over the years wasn't keen on seeing me with someone. He'll be fine. The Barista and I had matched on Tinder but never talked. I think we both figure it's best. Wouldn't want to sour the experience and general sphere of friendly encounters. Maybe before I leave this city I'll ask the barista to get a drink with me and subsequently have a whirlwind romance due to the fleetingness of it all.

I do that. I do that a lot. Fleeting whirlwind romances filled with action packed and passionate sex followed by some sweet and intimate heat between the sheets. Each one takes from me but never more than what it ultimately gives. Though, I love giving myself. I give my love to get used, not played with. I have a lot of it to give. Part of that being because I love myself. Or rather, I've learned how to love myself, care for myself, and enjoy myself.

I micro dosed LSD this past weekend while on a Blind VacationTM (I'll recount that later) I thought to myself, maybe I'm just obsessed with fucking different versions of myself? All these people I'm having these romances with I relate with on a significant level in one way or another. I see myself in so many of these men. Often times I’ve joked with some of them saying how they’re essentially a male version of myself. They tend to agree. So good, we agree about what we are doing. Having fun, enjoying ourselves, manifesting the intentions we had put out into the world, one stolen kiss featuring a New Orleans crumbling sidewalk at a time.

I’ve realized that I’ve developed a formula for manifesting these sort of encounters. I’ve gotten good at it. Real good. It clicked when I finally started trusting my gut and stopped sleeping with people who didn’t deserve me. You see, I’ve worked hard on myself and continue to invest in the woman I want to be. Those who seem to not understand how to do that, aren’t worth the emotional and mental labor. It takes a lot in order to achieve the depths and heights that intimacy with another can take me to. I want to be sure the effort I put in is matched. Honesty and communication are the most important factors in these sorts of situations. Otherwise it becomes unfair to one of us. My lack of communication and clarity has often led to men falling for a version of myself that doesn’t encompass the duality of who I am. I live on both sides of the spectrum in so many aspects of my life. One cannot be achieved without the other. So this manic pixie dream girl you’ve just created in your mind doesn’t include the basic white girl that’s rooted deep within me.

Same happens for them, If they’re not able to lay themselves bare just as I do, I find it leads me to believe there were hidden motives and that just stings at the end of the day.

So back to my formula - it involves trusting your gut and listening to those little doubts in the back of your mind. They’re there for a reason. My success in having so many of these fleeting and fiery romances is due to countless failures and burns. Healing those burns takes introspection, asking yourself the hard questions, and taking responsibility when you must.

I at times do get rejected or ghosted by men and don’t know why. Just last week, I met up with Cameron F. who was a sound mixer in town staying at a beautiful hotel in the CBD. He was totally my type and I, his. We looked good together and had a great time dancing and playing with physical boundaries. Once back in his hotel room I could tell he was nervous, holding back. I told him “Hey we don’t have to do everything in one night”. He relaxed and we continued to roll around between the sheets. Mind you, I met him off of r/randomactsofmuffdive after he had replied to a post I had put out. So, I was a bit surprised. However, we cuddled and teased one another all night and morning even exclaiming how turned on he was. The next few days, radio silence or the too few word replies to me touching on previous things we had spoken about. I got the hint. He wasn’t interested. Why? I don’t know. I want to ask him why because I can’t find a reason. Maybe I was too much? Maybe he could see through me and didn’t like it. Though, I don’t have any ill will or intentions that I’ve been hiding especially considering how he met me! This kind of rejection is most common. Maybe I just give too much of myself too early. They have me and there isn’t much else they need. I’m aware of feeling that towards others but usually it’s mutual! We fucked, had a great time and that was that. I get it but when I’m blindsided by something or don’t expect that to happen, it’s disappointing. Sometimes it hurts.

I’m often told that I’m intimidating to men, by men. They don’t know what to think of me, why I’m there, what my deal is, how to approach me. There’s a lot going on with me upon first glance. I’m fashionable, with a color palette that could be described as “high fructose”. I have a chic blonde pixie cut, love painting my face to match the mood I wake up in, can easily be found laughing or with a dumb smirk fixed upon my face, all while surrounded by a group of equally colorful and boisterous friends. The thing is that I’m aware of the fact I’m intimidating. I wear it like a badge. I coddle it, encourage it in order for it to be maintained. You see, it hasn’t always been this way. I used to be 5’6” and 240lbs at 18 years old. Now I’m 26 and 5’7”, 165lbs. I don’t even recognize who I used to be. Though, I was always confident growing up. I didn’t really have an awareness of what I looked like till I started to lose weight. People treat you differently you know. They take you more seriously and that kind of improvement can sometimes be addicting. I often wonder what it would be like if I lost the remaining 30lbs and how that would affect my life. I think sometimes I’m afraid of it. It sort of keeps me in a different place socially and in a certain place on the spectrum of attractiveness. I think I’m sexy. I think I’m pretty. I think wonderful things about myself in my current form. However, I’m so curious what that would mean for me and the kinds of men I entertain if my weight were different.

With that being said, the validation of men does not define my worth. I know my worth. It’s why I’m selective and it’s why I’m able to have these beautiful, hilarious, extraordinary, and fleeting romances I’m going to recount and share with you.