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journeytothewestresearch · 9 months ago

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The Crow's Nest Chan Master of JTTW

I am reading back through Journey to the West (Xiyouji, 西遊記) and was reminded of a strange, seemingly throwaway character who appears at the end of chapter 19, the "Crow's Nest Chan Master" (Wuchao chanshi, 烏巢禪師). He is described as an accomplished cultivator who lives in a juniper tree nest on Pagoda Mountain (Futu shan, 浮屠山), just beyond the border of Tibet (Wusicang, 烏斯藏). Zhu Bajie claims the master once asked him to jointly practice austerities, but the pig-spirit passed on the opportunity. Flash back to the present, and the pilgrims pass into his domain. After a brief chat, the Crow's Nest Chan master orally passes on the Heart Sutra (Xin jing, 心經) to Tripitaka.

There are two things that interest me about the Chan Master. The first is his magical abilities. Sun Wukong is offended by the monk but fails to hit him with his staff:

Enraged, Pilgrim lifted his iron rod and thrust it upward violently, but garlands of blooming lotus flowers were seen together with a thousand-layered shield of auspicious clouds. Though Pilgrim might have the strength to overturn rivers and seas, he could not catch hold of even one strand of the crow's nest (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 391).

This reminds me of an event from Acts of the Buddha (Sk: Buddhacarita; Ch: Fo suoxing za, 佛所行讚, 2nd-century), an ancient biography of the Buddha:

The host of Mara hastening, as arranged, each one exerting his utmost force, taking each other’s place in turns, threatening every moment to destroy [the Buddha, but] … Their flying spears, lances, and javelins, stuck fast in space, refusing to descend; the angry thunderdrops and mighty hail, with these, were changed into five-colour’d lotus flowers…” (Beal, 1883, pp. 152 and 153).

This points to the Crow's Nest Chan Master having great holy powers.

The second thing that interests me is that he is based on a historical monk, Niaoke Daolin (鳥窠道林, lit: "Bird's Nest" Daolin; 741–824). Here is his full biography from the Records of the Transmission of the Lamp (Jingde chuandenglu, 景德傳燈錄, 1004 to 1007):

Chan master Niaoke Daolin ... was from Fuyang in Hangzhou and his family name was Pan. His mother, whose maiden name was Zhu, once dreamt of the rays of the sun entering her mouth, after which she conceived. When the baby was born a strange fragrance pervaded the room, so the name ‘Fragrant Light’ was given to the boy. He left the home life at the age of nine and received the full precepts at the Guoyuan Temple in Jing (Jingling, Hubei) when he was twenty-one years old. Later he went to the Ximing Monastery in Chang’an to study the Huayan Jing (Avatasaka Sūtra) and the Śāstra on the Arising of Faith (Śraddhotpada Śāstra, Aśvagosa) under the Dharma Teacher Fuli, who also introduced him to the Song of the Real and Unreal, and had him practise meditation. Once Niaoke asked Fuli, ‘Could you say how one meditates and how to exercise the heart?’ Teacher Fuli was silent for a long time, so then the master bowed three times and withdrew. It happened that at this time Tang Emperor Taizong had called the First Teacher in the Empire [Daoqin] of Jing Mountain to the Imperial Palace and Daolin went to pay him a formal visit, obtaining the True Dharma from him. Returning south the master first came to the Yongfu Temple on Mount Gu (Zhejiang), where there was a stūpa dedicated to the Pratyekabuddhas. At this time both monks and laymen were gathering there for a Dharma-talk. The master also entered the hall, carrying his walking stick, which emitted a clicking sound. There was a Dharma-teacher present from a temple called Lingying, whose name was Taoguang, and who asked the master, ‘Why make such a sound in this Dharma-meeting?’ ‘Without making a sound who would know that it was a Dharmameeting?’ replied the master. Later, on Qinwang Mountain, the master saw an old pine tree with lush foliage, its branches shaped like a lid, so he settled himself there, in the tree, which is why the people of that time called him Chan Master Niaoke (Bird’s Nest). Then magpies made their nest by the master’s side and became quite tame through the intimacy with a human – so he was also referred to as the Magpie Nest Monk. One day the master’s attendant Huitong suddenly wished to take his leave. ‘Where are you off to then?’ asked the master. ‘Huitong left the home life for the sake of the Dharma, but the venerable monk has not let fall one word of instruction, so now it’s a question of going here and there to study the Buddha-dharma,’ replied Huitong. ‘If it could be said that there is Buddha-dharma,’ said the master, ‘I also have a little here,’ whereupon he plucked a hair from the robe he was wearing and blew it away. Suddenly Huitong understood the deep meaning. During the Yuan reign period (806-820 CE) Bai Juyi was appointed governor of this commandery and so went to the mountain to pay the master a courtesy call. He asked the master, ‘Is not the Chan Master’s residing here very dangerous?’ ‘Is not your Excellency’s position even more so?’ countered the master. ‘Your humble student’s place is to keep the peace along the waterways and in the mountains. What danger is there in that?’ asked Bai Juyi. ‘When wood and fire meet there is ignition – the nature of thinking is endless,’ replied the master, ‘so how can there not be danger?’ ‘What is the essence of the Buddha-dharma?’ asked Bai. ‘To refrain from all evil and do all that is good,’ answered the master. ‘A three-year-old child already knows these words,’ said Bai. ‘Although a three-year-old can say them, an old man of eighty can’t put them into practice!’ countered the master. Bai then made obeisance. In the fourth year, during the tenth day of the second month of the reign period Changqing (824 CE), the master said to his attendant, ‘Now my time is up.’ And having spoken he sat on his cushion and passed away. He was eighty-four years old and had been a monk for sixty-three years. (Textual note: Some say the master’s name was Yuanxiu, but this is probably his posthumous name.) (Whitfiled, n.d., pp. 56-58).

Sources:

Beal, S. (Trans.). (1883). The Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king: A Life of Buddha by Asvaghosha Bodhisattva. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/foshohingtsankin00asva/mode/2up.

Whitfiled, R. S. (Trans.). (n.d.). Records of the Transmission of the Lamp: Volume 2 - The Early Masters. Hokun Trust. Retrieved from https://terebess.hu/zen/mesterek/Lamp2.pdf

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

#Journey to the West #JTTW #Sun Wukong #Monkey King #Tripitaka #Tang Monk #Tang Sanzang #Xuanzang #Zhu Bajie #Pigsy #Crow's Nest Chan Master #JTTW characters

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ourtearsofrain · 2 years ago

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I'll be coming home, wait for me (J.M.K)

Summary: Your boyfriend knows just how to comfort you when your college schoolwork becomes overwhelming.

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x reader

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.5 k

Warnings: college work, frustration/getting overwhelmed from homework

A/N: Thank you Josh for singing Unchained Melody at Beale Street, it has been plaguing my mind since then.

As you sit at your dinner table, you stare at the blank word document on your laptop in front of you; the cursor blinking back at you, almost mocking you for the past hour and a half as you tried to come up with anything you could write about the most recent literature unit that had consumed the last month of your life. You realize the silence had become deafening, suddenly overwhelming you to the brink of tears as you slam your laptop closed and stand up so abruptly that the chair you were occupying falls backwards. With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you grab your laptop and hastily make your way to yours’ and Josh’s bedroom. After tossing your laptop onto your bed, you begin pacing back and forth, trying to ground yourself with the feeling of carpet under your feet.

When you find that to not help, you turn to music, grabbing the first album you find in Josh’s massive vinyl collection and place it on the plate of your turntable, starting the player and lowering the needle. As you hear the beginnings of Stand By Me start to play, you realize the album you had grabbed was the custom vinyl Josh had made for you for your one-year anniversary that had both of your favorite love songs from the 50’s to the 70’s on it.

Thoughts of your boyfriend finally push you over the edge, and you begin to sob as you sink to the floor, leaning back against the foot of your bed with your hands over your face. Josh was all you wanted, all you needed right now, but you knew that him and the other boys were recording today, meaning he wouldn’t get home until far after you had fallen asleep. Just as these thoughts cross your mind, you hear the jingle of keys outside your front door and hear the front door unlock. You shrug it off and begin to convince yourself it’s just your hopeful imagination playing tricks on you and focus back on the music coming from the speakers across from you.

“I won’t cry, I won’t cry

No I won’t shed a tear.

Just as long as you stand

Stand by me”

You let out a humorless chuckle, recognizing the irony between your situation and the lyrics of the song. Suddenly, you hear Josh call out from the front entryway. “Honeyyyyy, I’m hooooooome.”

Confused, and hoping you haven’t hit the point of auditory hallucinations, you call out to him, “In here love.”, your voice breaking midway through the sentence. You hear the sound of his keys being set on the dinner table, and the scraping of the chair you had knocked over being set upright.

“Honey,” you can hear the concern and worry in his voice, “Why is there a chair knocked over? Are you ok?”

He enters the room, eyes immediately landing on you as he quickly makes his way over to you, crouching down at your side and beginning to rub your shoulder and thigh closest to him in slow, comforting movements.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks as you take your hands away from your face to look at your boyfriend.

“I have this stupid fucking essay I need to finish and I’ve been trying to work on it for the last hour and a half but have gotten nowhere, and I’ve known about it for a week but have been too overwhelmed with the other coursework for this class that I haven’t been able to start it until now, and now it’s due tonight, plus I have to finish the book notes assigned today and this professor doesn’t accept late work. God I fucking wish I had transferred out of this class when I still could, tell me why the fuck I have to take it anyways, I’m a History major not a fucking English major why do I need to take this class.” Your thoughts catch up to you as you realize Josh is home way earlier than he should be. “Wait why are you home? I thought you said you were recording at the studio with the other guys all day today?”

Gently taking your hands in his, he traces slow circles into your palms with his thumbs. “First, I’m gonna need you to breathe love, ok? Can you do that for me?” You take a deep, shuddering breath in, releasing it slowly as you look into Josh’s soft, sympathetic gaze.

He offers a small, warm smile in return. “Good job honey, that was very good, thank you. To answer your question, we all thought we would need way more time than we did, and we finished up early so we all got to leave.”

“Oh. That’s good.” is all the response you can offer, as your mind quickly drifts off towards the impending essay due date and panic rises in the pit of your stomach once more.

Noticing your change in demeanor and the look in your eyes becoming more and more distant, Josh lightly takes ahold of your chin, to ensure you are looking at him, and with the other hand still holding your own, gives a gentle squeeze to comfort you. “Hey hey hey love, look at me ok? What can I do to help you?”

Your throat tightens as tears well behind your eyes once more, both from the kindness and patience of your boyfriend as well as frustration from the situation at hand. “I- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. How about we take a break from trying to write, and then when you go back and try again, I will be right here beside you. I may not have been the best at English in high school, but I’ve spent enough time with Jake that I know how to sound like a genius by using enormous and intelligent sounding vocabulary within sentences to the point of them becoming almost nonsensical. I swear he has thesaurus.com bookmarked on his phone, it’s insufferable sometimes.”

The joke and his impression of Jake causes you to laugh, and he smiles widely, satisfied that he got the reaction he had hoped for. The song on your record player changes, and with you still partially stuck in your thoughts, Josh notices before you do. “Love, listen. It’s our song.” He flashes you a small, kind smile and offers his hand to you. “Dance with me?”

As the first lyrics play, you allow Josh to help you to your feet, immediately wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the crook of his neck as he rests his hands on your back, swaying the two of you along gently to the music. You hear him softly humming the ending of the chorus, and he begins singing along as the verse begins.

“Lonely rivers flow

To the sea, to the sea

To the open arms of the sea

Lonely rivers sigh

“Wait for me, wait for me”

I’ll be coming home, wait for me”

The two of you continue to slowly sway together as the chorus begins again and the song ends, gradually fading out and into another. Josh tenderly runs his palms up and down your back as you breathe in his comforting scent and allow yourself to relax completely, feeling safe in his arms as he holds you. After a few minutes of comfortable calm and silence, you pull away from him just enough to look at him, and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you honey.”

“Of course, love. Anything for you. Feeling better?” he asks, gazing at you with a soft and hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yeah, thanks to you. I should be alright to try and start working again.”

“You sure? We can take a longer break if you need.”

You begin to pull away from Josh, keeping one hand on his arm to pull him along as you make your way to your bed, where your laptop still sat discarded. “Mhm, I’m sure. I really need to get this done by tonight. I promise I’ll take breaks if I need them though.”

You sit cross-legged in the middle of your bed near the headboard, placing your laptop in front of you and opening it. Josh climbs onto the bed and positions himself behind you, leaning against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. He wraps his arms around your torso and rests his cheek against the back of your shoulder. “Alright… but know that I’m holding you to that promise, ok love?”

You chuckle, and lightly lean back against him into his embrace. “Would expect nothing less from you, honey. Thanks again, for your support and patience, and for this.”

He mumbles a soft “Mhm, of course.” bringing his face up to kiss the side of your head. And with the presence of your boyfriend now offering comfort and safety, you begin to work again with a new sense of calm and focus.

#gvf fic #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf #fic #josh kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fluff #greta van fleet fan fiction #hurt/comfort #josh kiszka x reader

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masons-tours · 10 months ago

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I wasn’t around back then, what chaos

Let’s me just say Beales was involved.

Lots of nights out. Jingle Bell Ball. I think she even made a vlog about going to a Chelsea match

#anon

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newmusicradionetwork · 1 year ago

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Eileen Carey "Jingle Bell Rock"

Three words perfectly capture the essence of award-winning country pop singer Eileen Carey: passion, positivity, and persistence. Carey’s endless enthusiasm and determination to see the good in life has produced a career that teaches a valuable lesson: slow and steady may win the race, but genuine and likable earn the winner much applause. Originally from Ohio, the California-based Carey is described by Elmore Magazine as “a little bit cosmopolitan, a little bit country, and a whole lotta musical chameleon, one who effortlessly blends pop, rock, and country music.” Masterfully mixing those genres has provided Carey with numerous awards and accolades over the past three years, including the Los Angeles Music Awards 2017 Live Country Music Performer and 2016 Female Country Artist, as well as the 2018 New Music Weekly Country Breakthrough Artist of the Year. Following in the footsteps of what The Hype Magazine calls a “long line of radio hits,” Carey’s recent single “Anything That Reminds Me of You” reached the top of the New Music Weekly radio charts in the spring of 2019. That New Music Weekly placement solidified Carey’s seemingly permanent residence on national radio charts. Her title of AC/Hot AC Breakthrough Artist of 2019 put her in the company of other skyrocketing artists such as Post Malone, Five Seconds of Summer, and the duo of Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. Nashville Music Guide explains why Carey continues to garner favor with fans and critics alike: “Eileen Carey has emerged over the last few years as both an accomplished storyteller and an appealing stylist. Her songs offer much needed messages of personal empowerment and emotional fulfillment.” Perhaps most indicative of her blossoming career is the who’s-who of legends with whom Carey has shared a stage, including Wilson Phillips, Don McLean, Jefferson Starship, Rita Coolidge, The Motels, Johnny Rivers, Peter Noone, Nelson, and Tal Bachman. It is on those stages that the charismatic Carey connects with fans of all ages and backgrounds. Music Connection describes the impact Carey and her top-notch band recently had on an audience at Hollywood’s famed Whiskey a Go Go: “The crowd was hooked from the moment “Hearts of Time” began the night. Carey’s sassy yet humble stage demeanor gave off a Gretchen Wilson-meets-Miranda Lambert vibe, which clearly appealed to the crowd. Carey’s upbeat tracks had them clapping hands, line-dancing, and singing along.” Whether it’s the romantic fantasy of “In the Air,” the sad-but-wise poignancy of “Let It Go,” or the sisterly advice to an unhinged friend in “Bottle Your Crazy Up,” audiences sing along to lyrics that reveal Carey’s genius for capturing the full spectrum of the human experience. Carey’s exceptionally positive take on life is revealed in songs such as “Faith, “In the Air,” and “Bring on the Big.” It is this unfettered positivity that has inspired the songstress to take part in several projects aimed at making Carey, as well as those around her, healthier and happier human beings. Whether it’s promoting physical and mental health via kickboxing and time spent outdoors, caring for animals through her work with FixNation, or providing thoughtful parenting advice on her blog The Music Mom, Carey strives to offer support and encouragement for listeners everywhere: “I try to give people a different way of thinking about the world and their role in it. I want them to focus on the positive aspects of life. I genuinely believe that very good things will happen for them if they do.” Based on her rapidly growing fanbase and the industry buzz surrounding each new release, it is safe to say that Carey’s approach is working. Additional Artist/Song Information: Artist Name: Eileen Carey Song Title: Jingle Bell Rock Publishing: Joel Beal Chappell & CO Publishing Affiliation: BMI Publishing 2: Jim Boothe Chappell & CO Publishing Affiliation 2: BMI Album Title: Jingle Bell Rock Record Label: RolleyCstr Music Radio Promotion: Loggins Promotion Paul Loggins 310-325-2800 Contact LP Publicity/PR: Loggins Promotion Paul Loggins 310-325-2800 Contact LP Read the full article

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idristardis · 6 years ago

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SLSRS For NCIS: LOS ANGELES - “All Is Bright” - 9x11

Hey, yeah so...it’s been a few months, I know. But while there’s no way I’m going to catch up to the current episodes by the time the Densi wedding airs on March 17 (I’m somehow still amazed that that’s a thing I can type and it will actually be happening), I am nothing if not stubborn and so I will finish these - no matter how long they take me.

Luckily, however, I don’t think this one will be overly long.

The main impression I had of this episode, which was the holiday outing for Season 9, was that of a solid, if slightly uncomplicated, main plot that was completely - and delightfully - overrun with banter, sight gags, snark, and a bit of light slapstick.

Imdb tells me the writer was Chad Mazero - for some reason, perhaps a misreading of the opening credits, I had thought that it was Andrew Bartels. It also had kind of a Bartels-y feel to me in terms of the tone - but, nope!!

Mazero did a great job balancing four different trajectories for the main cast: Densi hunting down Edgar Parsons (and Deeks’ immaculate reception), Sam & Eric with the snarkiest electrical grid chief in history, Nell & Hidoko trying to both problem solve the case and evade Moseley’s supposedly anti-holiday edicts, and Callen tracing whatever Finn was up to...which turned out to be completely innocent and helpful (bringing gifts to kids in an orphanage who had nothing else, because he knew what it was like to be that kind of kid) instead of nefarious.

Everything interwove fairly seamlessly, and each plot seemed to get roughly equal time before the team all reconvened to pull off the final capture of Fuentes at his holiday party. The only thing that felt slightly forced to me - and it really was just the very slightest bit - was Moseley’s supposed status as an office Grinch. Nia Long was really not given very much to do other than stalk around the Mission looking suspicious before (very predictably) turning out not to be such a Scrooge after all.

After the lightheartedness of most of the hour, it was - rightfully - jarring when Sam confessed how hard the first holiday without Michelle was going to be for him and his kids. I think it was a deft touch on Mazero’s part to leaven all of the earlier hilarity and hijinks with just a touch of sadness - it balanced the hour well.

There wasn’t any progress on any of the over-arching season plots, but it was a good, solid hour.

#ncis: los angeles #ncisla #S9 #recaps #slsrs #my thoughts #really late to the party #but still here #metaaa #jingle beales #you've got mad dad face #am i frankincensing some hostility?#there were a lot of good one liners in this episode #plus densi's helmet toppers omg

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patrick-the-great · 5 years ago

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“What a bright time, it's the right time, To rock the night away! Jingle bell time is a swell time To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh! ...” Joseph Beal / James Boothe

#Patrick LeBlanc #Patrick the Great #jingle bell rock #joseph beal #james boothe

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eightmuppetynotes · 3 years ago

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Muppet Song of the Day: "Jingle Bells/Jingle Bell Rock"

"Jingle Bells" written by James Pierpont

"Jingle Bell Rock" written by Joseph Carleton Beal and James Ross Boothe

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

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Black Movies Tags Masterlist

Black Movies | Blaxploitation | Movie Compilations | Movie Characters | Full Movie

Eve's Bayou

The Five Heartbeats | Friday | Friday Foster | Foxy Brown

I Am Not a Witch | If Beale Street Could Talk | The Inkwell | Introducing Dorothy Dandridge |

King Richard

New Jack City | Notorious |

Queen and Slim |

Undercover Brother | The United States VS Billie Holiday | Us |

Vampires in the Bronx | Velvet Smooth

You Got Served

Numerical

3 Strikes | 42

As of 03/05/2022, this list needs A LOT of work, as I haven’t been as general with the tagging system for these. Will be rectifying that in my free time. Thanks!

- Auntie Nesha

Edit: In case it's not clear for untagged reblogs. These aren't the movies. It's a tags masterlist for the available content featured on the blog. Hope this helps.

#Black Movies Masterlist #Black Movies #movies #Masterlist #Tags Masterlist #BFCD Masterlist #List will be updated as needed #Updated 1/30/23 #Updated 2/27/24

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jrueships · 3 years ago

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Any wiz fic

I have So many.. before the Bad Beal era.. BUT!!! i can share a Snippet of one of my newer old ones!!!!! Just 4 u anon!!!!!

a chorus of synchronized 'oooh's cycled endless throughout the wizards like a snake devouring its own tail, plunging Deni farther down the loose rings of Embarrassment. But its transformation into thunderous cackles dug the grave.

The cacophony of clacking gold against shined silver combined with yodeling wails was enough of an indicator that Montrezl and Gafford were splitting their sides the heaviest.

"Who you writin' LOVE LETTERS to?? What kind of period typical romance BULLSHIT is THAT?"

Looping an arm around his sidekick in coltish disbelief, Trez grinned grillz at the younger, and when that jolly was deflected by bashful bowed head, he instead shared a glance with his partner in crime. Which was swiftly broken, erupting back into wailing as Gafford admired Montrezl's words back in his face.

" a real couple of rodeo Clowns, those two. "

Aaron holiday, arched on his tiptoes, rubbed a sympathetic hand against Deni's shoulder. Shaking his head in a manner of 'don't mind those jingling fools', he muttered hushed and polite, " I'm sure whatever cheerleader you mean those for is going to love it. "

Deni managed a sidewinder smile from the floor, eyes flickering low to share in their secret. A misinterpreted secret, but a secret nonetheless.

Yeah, a cheerleader.

His gaze is back downwards, scanning the ground. They stop at familiar two-toned shoes, pink and white, as he replies a courteous thank you.

Sure.

#ted asks #ted drabbles #question mark? its not really long but whatever any ted writing goes in the ted drabbles i suppose !#i think i wrote this in a feverdream so if it has any errors ummmm no no it does not 🥰

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massivedrickhead · 4 years ago

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Loving your series of one shots bud!! I, myself, am a massive fan of fluff and happiness (tooth rotting), how about a prompt where Beca is in LA with Khaled (post PP3) and she is finding it really tough, physically and mentally, especially knowing Chloe isn't there, she hasn't spoken to her in a while, and she believes her to be happy with Chicago elsewhere... and when she returns home... She finds Chloe there. Waiting. (Or the equivalent, where Chloe is engaged, Beca hasn't spoken to her in a while, and she comes home to see her there) xxxxx

Hi, thank you so much!

I might have gotten away from the prompt a little, but I hope you like it anyway.

I’m kind of tired and emotionally tonight so I don’t know if this is any good, and it’s kinda long so I hope that’s okay haha

Read on AO3

------

“Beca, are you listening?”

Chloe Beale is single.

“Mhm,” Beca said, pulling her eyes away from Facebook on her phone and looking back at Theo. “Sorry.”

“Everything alright?” He asked, knowing it wasn’t like Beca to zone out in a meeting like this.

“Yep,” Beca said, turning her phone face down. He raised his eyebrows. “It’s Chloe.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh. “Is it an emergency?”

“No,” Beca said, putting her hands in her lap to resit the urge to pick her phone up again. “I am super focused and professional.”

“Can we talk about your album for, like, ten more minutes?” Theo said, trying to keep up his face stern.

“Absolutely,” Beca said, her eyes dropping again, briefly, to her phone.

The meeting felt like it lasted a lifetime, but eventually Beca hurried out and back to her own office, puling Facebook up on her phone.

Chloe Beale is single.

Chloe’s profile picture had changed from the sickeningly sweet picture of her and Chicago showing off her engagement ring, to just a simple selfie.

Beca clicked into her contacts list and her thumb hovered above Chloe’s name.

She should call her, right?

She scrolled down further, and hit call on Aubrey’s name.

“Aubrey Posen,” Aubrey said, using the same tone of voice she would use to greet a stranger, and not one of her closest friends.

“Aubrey what’s going on with Chloe?”

“I’m doing great Beca, thanks for asking,” Aubrey replied.

“Aubrey.”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey said, her tone softer. “She’s been unhappy with him for a while.”

“She has?”

“Yes,” Aubrey said. “When did you last speak to her?”

“It’s… It’s been a while,” Beca said, sounding guilty. “Work has been a bit much.”

“I know,” Aubrey replied. “You should call her.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Thanks.”

“Speak to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I’ll call you.”

She ended the call with Aubrey but once again hesitated before calling Chloe. Apart from the occasional surface level text or exchange of snapchats and memes, she really hadn’t spoke to Chloe for a while. Not properly. Not the way they used to.

She was scared that if she called her now, Chloe would be mad at her.

She drummed her fingers against her desk, her stomach twisting slightly, as she tried to decide what to do. She never handled confrontation very well, it’s why she’d spent so much of her life just walking away from situations.

Beca picked up her phone again, and typed out a text.

Beca: Hey Chlo’. I’ve just seen Facebook, are you okay? xx

She hit send and closed her phone before she could overthink it, and tried to focus on her work again.

She had a bunch of album art she needed to look through and pick her favourites. (Yes, her job was pretty awesome.)

She also had twenty unread emails that had popped up in the ten minutes she had spent on the phone to Aubrey/deciding what to do about Chloe. (Yes, her job was also pretty demanding.)

As her phone buzzed on her desk with Chloe’s reply, Theo poked his head through her office door.

“What’s up?” She asked, resisting the urge to pick up her cell to read the message.

“Have you got plans tonight? Because you need to cancel them if you do,” he said, looking stressed.

“Why?” Beca asked with a sigh.

“The head of the label is coming in for a meeting tomorrow morning and he wants to hear your new album and it is nowhere near ready for that,” he said.

“Isn’t he in Europe?” Beca said with a groan.

“He is literally flying in for this meeting. There is a lot riding on this album, Beca,” he said. “He took a big risk when he signed you as a solo artist after the Khaled collab.”

“I know that,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair. “I know. But it isn’t getting released for another two months, why does he need to hear it now?”

“I don’t know how his mind works, I just know we need to impress him tomorrow,” Theo said.

“Okay,” Beca said.

“No distractions tonight, okay? Take an hour now and we can get started at,” he glanced down at his watch, “5:30.” He closed the office door behind him, and Beca immediately picked up her phone, pushing away the sudden wave of nerves.

Chloe: I’ve been better xx

Beca: Are you free right now? xx

Chloe: Yeah, I just finished work. xx

Beca called Chloe, this time without hesitation, and the redhead answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” Chloe said, her voice sounding heavy.

“Hi,” Beca replied, sinking back into her chair at the sound of Chloe’s voice. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed hearing it. “What happened?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Chloe asked. Beca could hear the sound of New York traffic over the phone and she felt suddenly homesick.

Not for New York specifically, but for that tiny apartment she and Chloe had shared in Brooklyn. For that level of closeness and intimacy.

She liked L.A. fine, and her new home was, on paper, a thousand percent better than the Brooklyn apartment, but it still didn’t feel like home. She would trade her state-of-the-art kitchen, king-sized bed, hot-tub - all of it - for one more night in that apartment. One more night sleeping beside Chloe. One more night where Chloe’s arms would snake around her waist and pull her close, mumbling that she was cold. One more morning eating breakfast together before they parted for work. One more evening making dinner and watching trashy TV.

What made it hurt more was that she knew there was no going back to that apartment. Chloe had moved in with Chicago, Beca had moved out to L.A., and Fat Amy was somewhere in the Bahamas. Someone else was living in their apartment now. Sleeping in their cramped bed, making food in their kitchen.

“How’s work?” Chloe asked, breaking Beca out of her thoughts.

“Busy,” Beca said. “It’s… It’s a lot right now.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?” Chloe asked. And Beca thought just how like Chloe that was. While she was going through a heartbreak, she’d rather make sure Beca was okay.

“I thought that was your job,” Beca said, smiling at the soft laugh Chloe gave. She could hear the sounds of keys jingling and a door opening.

“That’s kinda hard to do when I’m all the way in New York,” Chloe said. “God it’s so cold outside. I need a vacation.”

Beca glanced at the sun streaming through her office window. “Maybe you should come to L.A.,” she said, without really thinking. As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she realised this was something she wanted more than anything right now.

“That would be nice,” Chloe said with a laugh.

“I’m serious,” Beca said, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement.

“Come on, Becs. I can’t do that,” Chloe said. “I have work.”

“Take some time off?”

“The flights are expensive-”

“-I’ll pay for the flights,” Beca said, cutting her off. “I think… Chlo’ I think I need this. I need some time off. And I think you need it too?”

“Yeah, I need it,” Chloe said. “Are they even gonna let you have time off?”

“I can ask,” Beca said. She looked down at her watch and saw she only had ten minutes before she had to get back to work. “Look, if you want to come, I can make it happen. I’m working for the rest of the night, but give me a call tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. “I’ll call my boss.”

“So you want to come?”

“Yeah. Yeah I want to.”

——

Beca glanced around her nervously as she stood at the arrivals gate of L.A.X. airport a week later. She was wearing a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses but she was still afraid someone would recognise her.

Then she caught sight of ginger hair and suddenly Chloe was walking towards her and Beca felt her nervousness drain away.

Chloe grinned when she spotted her, and started walking more quickly, practically running by the time she got close enough to hug her. She dropped her case and flung her arms around Beca, squeezing her into the tightest hug she could manage.

Beca was going to make some sarcastic joke, but the feeling of Chloe’s arms around her caused her voice to die in her throat and her eyes to fill with tears.

“I’ve really missed you,” Chloe said, squeezing tighter and planting a kiss on her cheek and releasing her.

“Missed you too,” Beca said, grabbing the handle of Chloe’s case. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” Chloe said, grinning. “Why are you dressed like a spy?”

“Um, because I am?” Beca said, laughing. “I just don’t wanna get spotted.”

“Right,” Chloe said. “You’re a big deal now.”

Beca laughed and shook her head. “It’s a lot,” her voice was a little quieter.

Chloe frowned slightly, and then her eyes widened as she saw a few men with cameras hovering outside the entrance to the airport.

Beca sighed. “Just ignore them and stick close to me.”

They walked out of the airport quickly, and as soon as the men spotted her, they started yelling.

“Beca! Beca! How’s the album going, Beca?!”

“Beca! What do you say about the rumours that you’re dating your producer?!”

“Holy shit,” Chloe muttered under her breath as they made their way to Beca’s car, the paparazzi following them, continuing their barrage of questions.

“Beca! Introduce us to your friend!”

“Beca is it true you’re dating-”

Whatever name he was planning to say was lost in the sound of Beca slamming her door shut, and starting her car. She honked the horn a few times to get them to move out the way.

“Beca, what the fuck was that?” Chloe asked, pulling on her seatbelt as Beca pulled out of the parking lot.

“Fun, right?” Beca asked, glancing in her rearview mirror, making sure they weren’t going to follow her home.

“Does that happen every time you go out?”

“Not always,” Beca said. “To be honest they were probably there just hanging about to see if anyone would turn up. I don’t think they knew I was there before they saw me.”

“Jesus,” Chloe said. “I forget you’re like a legit celebrity now.”

Beca pulled a face. “I’m not. Not really.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, glancing over at Chloe. “Yeah, just… Just really looking forward to this time off. I had to work a lot of late nights to get Theo to agree with this.” Chloe frowned. “You know that guy was full of shit, right? There’s nothing going on between me and Theo. I haven’t been dating him. I haven’t been dating anyone.”

“Why not?” Chloe asked.

“Why not, what?”

“Why haven’t you been dating anyone?”

Beca shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone I liked.” They were quiet for a little while longer as they continued to sit in L.A. traffic. “So, can we only talk about my love life or are you going to tell me about you and Chicago?”

“There’s nothing really to tell,” Chloe said, turning to look out of the window now they had gotten off the highway. “I just… It wasn’t working. We were fighting a bunch. I wanted him to be different and he wanted me to be different.”

“I’m sorry, Chlo’,” Beca said.

“It’s okay,” Chloe said. “It’s better in the long run. At least we weren’t married with kids before we figured it out.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as Beca drove them the rest of the way to her house, the radio playing quietly.

When Beca pulled up to to her house, Chloe let out a low whistle.

“Right, you live in a fucking mansion now,” she said.

“It’s hardly a mansion,” Beca said, feeling embarrassed. She took Chloe’s bag from the trunk and they made their way into the house. “You want the tour?”

“Please.”

Beca showed her around, dropping her bag into the guest room. The tour ended on the deck, and Beca grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen on the way. They sat in comfortable loungers and looked out as the sun set over L.A..

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Beca said, pouring them some wine.

“Me too,” Chloe replied, cheers-ing her glass against Beca’s. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Anytime, Chlo’.”

As they sat in silence watching the sunset, Beca felt a warmth spreading through her chest. For the first time since moving to L.A., she felt like she was home. And then she realised something.

Something she’d known all along, really.

She glanced across at Chloe, who was smiling with her eyes closed, letting the sun soak into her.

Chloe.

Chloe was her home.

She placed her hand on top of Chloe’s and squeezed, softly.

Chloe opened her eyes and looked over at Beca, still smiling. She adjusted her hand so her fingers were threaded with Beca’s.

Beca looked away, blinking against the sun and feeling tears stinging her eyes.

If Chloe noticed, she didn’t mention it. She just carried on smiling, and turned back to face the sunset, their hands still linked.

“It’s beautiful out here,” she said.

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I feel like I never actually get to relax out here. I spend so much time just sleeping at my office these days.”

“I knew you weren’t taking care of yourself,” Chloe said.

“There’s just been a lot of pressure at work. This is my first solo album, and if it fails… If it doesn’t do well everyone will know that my last one was only a success because of Khaled,” Beca said. “I can’t fail at this.”

“You won’t fail,” Chloe said, softly. “You’re so talented, Beca. You’ve got this, I know you do.”

Beca smiled. “I wish I didn’t have to do it without you.”

“You don’t,” Chloe said. “I’m only on the other end of the phone. You can call me anytime.”

“It’s not the same,” Beca said. “Sorry, I just miss how things used to be.”

“I know. I miss it too,” Chloe said.

“If I’d known things wouldn’t stay that way forever, I might have done things differently,” Beca said.

“What do you mean?”

Beca shrugged, feeling like she should stop talking before she said something she’d regret. She didn’t want to cause an awkward situation that they both had to live with for the two weeks of their vacation.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” Chloe said.

“I just wish I’d been more honest. Braver,” Beca said, avoiding looking at Chloe.

“It’s not too late,” Chloe said.

But Beca shook her head. “Sorry. I’m… I’m rambling. I’ve probably drank too much.”

“I guess it’s getting late,” Chloe said, letting Beca’s hand drop. “We’ve got a long day of relaxing ahead of us, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. She stood and stretched and helped Chloe to her feet. “If you get hungry or anything during the night just help yourself.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said, kissing Beca on the cheek. “We’ll finish this conversation tomorrow, okay?”

Beca laughed, and felt her cheeks burn. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Night Becs,” Chloe said.

“Night.”

Chloe woke a few hours later, her head hurting from too much wine and sun and not enough water.

She made her way to the kitchen and drank what felt like her body weight in water. As she was about to head back, she heard noises coming from Beca’s office.

The door was open and a dim light was creeping onto the landing.

Chloe peaked inside to see Beca sitting cross-legged on her chair, her hair tied up messily, the light from the computer screen the only light in the room.

She was talking to someone on the phone, her voice a little hoarse.

“No, I get that Theo,” she said, her hand resting on the back of her neck. “But when I spoke to you yesterday, the track was fine.” She watched as Beca tucked the phone in between her ear and shoulder and the began typing into her computer. “Uh huh. So like, more bass? Less bass?” She stopped typing. “I don’t know what you mean by the same bass but different.”

Chloe had heard enough and stepped into the room.

She placed a hand on Beca’s shoulder and tried not to laugh when she jumped. She held out her other hand for Beca’s phone.

Beca sighed and handed it over.

“Hi Theo,” Chloe said, smiling. “It’s Chloe. You remember me from the USSO tour, right? It’s 2 am, and Beca’s on vacation. I know. I’ll pass your apologies on. Goodnight Theo.”

She clicked end on the call and passed the phone back.

“Theo said sorry.”

Beca laughed and put the phone down. “Thank you.”

“Does this happen often?”

“Oh yeah,” Beca said. “Theo and I are both kinda nocturnal so sometimes he’ll call me with ideas.”

“No wonder you look so tired,” Chloe said.

“Gee thanks.”

“Come on, it’s bed time.” Chloe took her hand and pulled her up. “This room is off limits while you’re on vacation, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Beca said, smiling. “How are you finding the guest room?”

“It’s nice,” Chloe said, as they hovered outside Beca’s room. “Why?”

“No reason,” Beca said.

“Becs, you can just say it you know?”

Beca laughed, and looked down. “I can’t. I’m not good at this.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. She pushed Beca’s bedroom door open and gave her hand a tug. “Come on.”

“Chloe,” Beca said softly, closing her eyes when Chloe cupped her cheek with her hand. “Wait.”

“Hey,” Chloe replied, her voice just as gentle. “Look at me. Tell me what you need.”

Beca swallowed hard, tears burning her eyes. “I’ve… I’ve been waiting. That’s what I wanted to say before. Why I haven’t dated anyone since Jesse. I’ve been waiting for you. I… I waited to tell you and I waited too long.”

“It isn’t too late,” Chloe said, pulling Beca into a hug. “You can tell me now, it isn’t too late.” She felt Beca take a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was muffled by Chloe’s shirt.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. And I know you and Chicago just broke up. I don’t need to hear it back.”

Chloe ended their hug and cupped Beca’s face in her hands again, her thumbs brushing away the tears.

“I wanted Chicago to be different than he was. That’s why we didn’t work out. I wanted him to know what I needed without me having to ask. I wanted him to know when I needed a tea instead of a coffee. I wanted him to bring me an aspirin when I was two hours into a study session because he knew I’d have a headache by then. I wanted him to know when I wanted to talk, and when I just needed to sit and listen to music. I wanted him to know me. I wanted him to know me the way you know me. I wanted him to be you, Becs. And… And when I realised that… When I realised it was you that I wanted… You that I was in love with… That’s when we broke up.”

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah I love you.”

Beca let out a teary laugh.

“Can I kiss you?”

Beca nodded, and Chloe’s mouth was on hers, and Beca knew she was home.

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unholyhelbig · 4 years ago

Text

ISS Immortal | #HW203

Summary: Beca is sent on the mission of a lifetime when an odd signal is received from a ship that was meant to come home but never did.

Read on Ao3

The air was cold in the cabin of the ship. Beca Mitchell had always expected space to be cold. There was an undeniable lack of oxygen and an even more undeniable lack of human life. She would place her nose as close to the glass as it could go and watch it fog up before using her finger to trace little designs onto the darkness.

She had read through every single book in her stash during these stretching three months. Each moment of her day was spent crossing tasks off of a checklist; make sure the windows are sealed. Refill the fuel used the night before, eat breakfast (She found that one odd until she nearly missed it a few nights in).

Beca started to reread the first novel that she picked up, her eyes wandering from the words to the vast emptiness outside. It wouldn’t be long before the shuttle made initial contact with the station on Jupiter.

It was a large and beautiful planet. Unpopulated for the most part. Her company had sent another ship before hers before they lost contact entirely. Beca’s main task, not the little ones that she put check-marks by each day, was to make contact, to swallow back her fear, and forget the static-filled final communication they had all heard.

The conference room was cold too; its walls were gray and the table that rested in the center was a dark mahogany. There was a tape recorder, its last button being pushed down as if to hold the black film in place. Aubrey Posen had her fingers pressed against one another. Her cuticles leaked crimson, which they had never done before.

Beca hated the way the chair squeaked when she sat down next to the woman. She hated the Chanel perfume that she wore and the way a charm bracelet with a little star jingled each time Aubrey shifted. Even more, she hated the way the woman stared at her, almost through her. She didn’t’ say anything, she hit the button.

1200 [10-31] Rodger. Clock.

1221 [10-31] Rodger. roll.

1222 [10-31] Rolls complete. Pitch is programed.

1223 [10-31] One bravo.

Beca clenched her jaw hard enough for it to ache. She imagined her teeth shattering. Aubrey had a stony look on her face and part of her wanted to mouth the words. She hadn’t slept. This was all standard protocol. What was Beca missing? She could run these codes in her sleep.

It burned her to hear Chloe’s voice on the tape. She sounded elated, her whole crew had been. Beca remembers the way, just five months ago, she melted into the woman’s touch. She had breathed in the licorice scent and pressed her nose into a fiery mane of hair. It was hard to let go then and hard to listen now.

Aubrey leaned forward and pushed another button on the recorder. Despite herself, Beca strained to listen to the words. They were too fast. When it finally stopped, her head pounded and her mouth was dry. Still- she sat quietly.

0900 [11-04] Houston to ISS Immortal.

0901 [11-04] Copy.

0901[11-04] Was wondering if you had AUTO optics selected. Over.

0902 [11-04] That’s Affirmative.

0903 [11-04] Roger. Looks like to us we need a PROCEED, Jessica, to get the sextant pointed at the star. Over.

They were taking pictures, marking every single star that the team before them hadn’t gotten to. Chloe had an eye for the probes and the lenses while Emily kept an amazing aim. Anyone would be proud of the team. Anyone would be proud to be there. Aubrey fast-forwarded the tape again.

0600 [11-22] ISS Immortal to Houston.

0600 [11-22] Copy.

0601 [11-22] Breach in line, hull point of ship took some damage. Over.

0602 [11-22] Stand by one.

0607 [11-22] intrusion breached. All good on our end. Over.

0608 [11-23] Nice work, Beale. Debris?

0612 [11-23] Bet you a cup of coffee on it.

0613 [11-23] Copy.

Aubrey drew in a shuddered breath. It made Beca’s lungs ache. She had forgotten about the cold of the room. The little strip of skin by her thumb had been effectively peeled away and the frigid atmosphere made it sting something fierce. Her superior reached to fast-forward the tape once more, but Beca found herself stopping her.

“wait,” she rasped. Her fingers were wrapped around Aubrey’s and they squeezed tight. “It wasn’t debris, was it?”

“No, it was. That’s what our team believes anyway.”

“Then what? They all… They all perished because of a natural thing. Something that we were all warned about when we signed up for this program. I don’t understand.”

“Something got in,” Aubrey whispered.

She hit the little button and Beca found herself withdrawing her touch. She placed her hands in her lap like she was sitting in the last pew in a church instead of in a stuffy board room with a woman who could barely keep her sweet emotions in check.

0614 [11-24] Houston to ISS Immortal

0614 [11-24] ISS Immortal, do you copy?

0614 [11-24] Copy. We copy. Medic standby.

0614 [11-24] Stacie? Over.

0614 [11-24] Negative, she’s indisposed. Over.

0615 [11-24] ISS Immortal, what is the issue?

0616 [11-24] Emily is sick. Stacie soon after.

“It started with a fever. That soon progressed to chills and vomiting. It was bile at first, whatever they could keep down. And then it was blood. Chloe said it was more than she had ever seen.” Aubrey leaned back in her chair. That stoic, medical side of her started to shine through again. But it was quickly outweighed by sadness. “They were the two who repaired the damage the day before.”

“It could have been anything,” Beca cupped the back of her neck and dug her nails into the soft skin until it burned.

“But it wasn’t, Beca. It was something none of us could explain. We heard it all.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You have to.”

“No.” She slammed the edge of her fist into the table. It shook that retched tape recorder and the chairs that remained unoccupied around them. Aubrey didn’t flinch, though her vacant stare made her regret the action. The side of her hand was numb and then it tingled with feeling. “You want me to listen to all of them die? My team? You think that’s easy for me?”

“It’s not supposed to be easy Beca. It’s going to prepare you.” She didn’t’ wait for another objection before starting the tape again. Beca wanted to plug her ears and scream until everything was drowned out. But instead, she rubbed the side of her hand and cursed herself for injuring it in the first place.

1245 [11-24] ISS Immortal to Houston

1245 [11-24] Copy

1246 [11-24] Emily is dead. Do you copy?

1249 [11-24] We copy.

1250 [11-24] What do we do now?

1253 [11-24] Standby. Over.

Beca felt as if she wanted to get sick herself. She regretted the big lunch. Chloe’s sullen words sunk to the bottom of her stomach like a ton of bricks. They had prepared them for everything, it seemed; the hull busting, running out of oxygen, every single machine aboard the ship failing them in a single moment. But not this; not some unknown illness.

“They put her,” Aubrey swallowed roughly “They put the body in the storage compartment and kept an eye on Stacie. That’s what Chloe said. It was the last thing… it was the last thing she said before what I’m about to play you next, and Beca?”

“Bree,”

“What you are about to hear does not leave this room. It doesn’t. And if it does I will not hesitate to put you in the ground myself. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

It seemed like an eternity before Aubrey finally hit the button. Once she did, there was nothing but static and distress. The formalities were gone and the screaming had stared. Beca wanted to move her fingers up to her throat because she knew theirs would be raw and torn and filling slowly with the taste of blood.

0467 [11-26] Houston… Fuck. Houston respond.

0469 [11-26] ISS Immortal, we’re here. You’ve been dark for two days. Over.

0470 [11-26] Bree? Bree is that you. God damn it, I’m so happy to hear your voice.

0471 [11-26] What’s happening up there, Chloe? Signal not clear.

0471 [11-26] She wasn’t dead, or maybe she was, and then whatever made her sick brought her back.

0471 [11-26] Emily?

0473 [11-27] Shit… yeah, yes. Emily. She was fine and then she wasn’t. And then there was blood. So much fucking blood.

0473 [11-27] Copy. Where are you now?

0476 [11-27] Houston to ISS Immortal, do you copy?

0478 [11-27] Chloe, do you copy?

0479 [11-27] I copy. I’m in the bottom brig. I can hear her walking above me. She can hear me too, I’m betting. I’m sorry, Aubrey. I knew you were counting on this to go well.

0479 [11-27] No, Chloe. It’s alright. Stay quiet.

0480 [11-27] You still owe me that cup of coffee.

0480 [11-27] Sure. We’ll go to that little shop on 9th. Stay quiet now, okay?

0497 [11-27] Houston to ISS Immortal.

0520 [11-27] ISS Immortal, do you copy?

Beca had been going through the motions, keeping her mind focused on those little tasks that she was given. She didn’t’ know the difference between day and night, fine and far from it. When her eyelids did grow heavy enough to close, she would hear Chloe’s voice. The screaming and the static, and she would jolt awake.

Aubrey had called this a rescue mission, but it felt more like suicide to the young pilot. They held onto false hope that Chloe had somehow made it, that the thing… whatever it was, that took all of them, moved on and left them to their own devices.

Chloe was strong, she was determined, and she scared the hell out of Beca on a good day. But it wasn’t a good day, it was a bad one. It was the worst one that Beca could remember. The rest had blurred into games of chess with herself, that horrible crackling static of the radio, and her own foolish hope.

She was awoken one night, or maybe it was day, to the sound of an easy alarm and the flashing red light of the controls on the right panel. A foreign object had struck the side of the craft and the radio was crackling with noise. She was sweating despite the cold.

“Houston to ISS Condemnation, do you copy? Beca do you copy?”

Aubrey’s voice was frantic. She groaned as she pulled herself out of the uncomfortable position that she had landed in. Her neck was aching, a pinch moving down her arm and to the base of her skull each time she quirked it a certain way.

“Yes, I copy.”

“Our sensors are going haywire, is everything okay up there?”

Beca looked around at the packaged meals that were strewn about and the black and white chess pieces that threatened to float through the air had they not been secured. She traced her fingers over the patch on her breast and the other on her wrist.

She pressed the small button on the side of the radio “I bet you a cup of coffee it was debris.”

#HW203 #HW2020 #Pitch Perfect #Pitch Perfect Horror Week #Horror Week #Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Bechloe fanfiction #Day 3: Final Girls

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beca-mitchell · 5 years ago

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Jingle (1/1)

Summary: Beca’s new job has some festive perks—aka—Beca gets a second job at the mall as a Christmas elf and Chloe really likes the outfit that comes with it. Rated M/E.

Word count: 3,550

For @asimplefavors bc nobody loves Anna Kendrick more than u...and this is like the best of both worlds...and for always being there to listen to my hcs while also being absolutely demonic with ur own hcs.

Yes, this was inspired by Noelle.

Read below or on AO3.

—

It starts off as an off-hand comment from Fat Amy. Something about Beca being perfectly suited to be a Christmas elf—they had been watching a Hallmark movie or something similar and incredibly cheesy—except for her temperament, which could use “some work”.

Beca shoves Amy with her foot, nearly pushing her bodily off the bed, but the damage is done. Chloe’s eyes brighten, and she looks entirely too amused and entirely too thrilled at the thought. She turns teasing eyes onto Beca before launching into a detailed list of all the ways Beca would make a perfect elf and since she is Chloe Beale, it ends up being pretty hard for Beca to stay too upset. Instead, she's being attentive and all...like a good girlfriend.

What is upsetting is how unfairly pretty Chloe looks, reclining casually in their bed—their bed!—in a reindeer onesie and penguin slippers. Ridiculous.

— — — — —

Beca doesn't hate Christmas.

Chloe just happens to love Christmas a lot. Enough for both of them.

No, Beca does not get the job on purpose. Not one bit.

— — — — —

Dating Chloe is a fairly new thing, but it is possibly the most natural part of Beca’s life at the moment. Still, it’s a thing nonetheless even if Beca isn’t necessarily complaining. Dating your college friend (previously acapella co-captain) while also living in the same tiny apartment was, to Beca, a sure-fire way to mess things completely. Nevermind that they were struggling young adults in one of the most unforgiving cities in the world. Nevermind that they were already sharing a bed. Nevermind that Beca had to come to the realization slowly over the past year and a half living with Chloe, even before they started dating, that her crush on Chloe was more than just a fleeting passion. It was more than just a recent development.

She thought she was fucked the first time she woke with Chloe’s hand draped casually over her midsection and her breath warm against Beca’s cheek.

But she never stood a chance, in retrospect. Not even back in school, when she had slowly been falling in love with Chloe over a series of mash-ups and trophies.

It is thus totally and completely understandable that only two and a half weeks later—after that fateful movie night—Beca somehow finds herself tiredly stomping up to their walk-up, disgruntled and shaking clumps snow out of her bright green elf hat. The horrendously bright red ruffles on the skirt of her dress are even more out of place considering she spent most of the subway ride back into Brooklyn tugging her dress out of the hands of an extremely excited child who was wondering if Santa was riding the subway as well. The job itself was taken on a whim because somebody at work had offhandedly mentioned that their niece had taken on a part-time job at the mall and that it paid ridiculously well for such an easy task.

Beca wants to go back in time and tell her past self to never believe something so ridiculous ever again. She has the utmost respect for people who manage to keep a genuine smile on her face while working—Beca finds herself retreating behind the scenes at least once every ten minutes to simply breathe and use her stress ball. It is not a fun job and not one Beca would pick again, but the extra money is nice and she really is trying to keep an open mind.

(She would just rather not be leered at by middle-aged fathers bringing their kids to sit on Santa's lap. And she's also pretty sure Santa is drunk ninety percent of the time.)

Beca is additionally prickly due to the fact that Chloe has been away for the past week and a half at a conference. Beca is proud of her and glad that Chloe is already getting a head-start in pursuing her veterinary dreams with amazing opportunities on her plate, but she’s only human and misses her girlfriend. She misses Chloe’s arms around her and the gentle kiss Chloe had begun to leave against her ear each morning. She misses grabbing two take-out cups of coffee from their favourite shop just down the street and returning to receive a kiss from Chloe in gratitude.

The perks of being in a fully-fledged adult relationship and all.

(She misses the sex. More than she’d care to admit to anybody considering her only available confidante is Amy and that isn’t something Beca would care to explore.)

There is a silver lining, however. It’s that Beca gets at least one more day of reprieve before Chloe returns and has the time of her life seeing Beca in all her ridiculous get-ups ( plural )—all of which Beca absolutely plans on burning.

Finally, in front of their door, Beca fumbles with the key for a moment before she gleefully manages to get the door open and nearly slams it open in excitement. She’s glad to have avoided most of the snowstorm. She’s excited to curl up in her bed and finally place the order for Chloe’s Christmas present, which she had been putting off because they’ve all been a little strapped for cash, but this second job has been immensely helpful in that regard.

“Hello,” Chloe’s voice sounds unexpectedly from behind the rack of clothes. Beca startles and yelps, dropping her keys and jacket on the floor. She catches sight of Chloe’s feet and the laundry bag by her feet before Chloe is walking back around the rack. Beca’s eyes dart around nervously, realizing she has nowhere to hide.

She strongly considers walking back out the door.

“I was wondering where you we—” Chloe’s words die in her throat the moment she catches sight of Beca standing awkwardly by their kitchen table, clearly having no words for what she sees. “Beca?” she questions, eyebrow rising on her forehead.

“I…” Beca swallows, licking her lips nervously. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

Chloe’s eyes are flicking up and down Beca’s torso, like she doesn’t quite know what to do with all the visual information being sent her way. “I asked to come back a day early because of the snowstorm,” Chloe explains, though her words are stilted and her eyes are still flicking around distractedly. “Are you…”

Curiosity rises in Beca’s body when she realizes Chloe is more than the usual amount of distracted. She tilts her head, waiting for her girlfriend to say more, but Chloe’s mouth quickly clamps shut and the most peculiar blush rises up her cheeks.

Interesting.

Beca definitely recognizes the flushed state of Chloe’s cheeks and neck and she’s certain that it has nothing to do with the slight chill from their unreliable heating unit.

Suddenly, Beca isn’t so exhausted and embarrassment seeps further and further from her mind. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to not change back into her jeans and t-shirt. In her haste to leave work, she had simply grabbed everything and ducked out, hell-bent on avoiding conversational friendliness. “Hi,” she tries again, stepping closer to Chloe. A grin stretches across Beca's lips when she catches bright blue eyes flicking down to her leggings.

Chloe clears her throat. “Hello,” she mumbles, shy and extremely formal.

"Chlo?” Beca questions, using a very specific tone reserved for Chloe when they’re in bed (or about to get into bed). She loves having a momentary leg up on Chloe Beale. “How do I look?"

"Um.” Chloe’s eyes seem to start right at the top of Beca’s head with the obnoxious felt hat, before drifting down to the loose, messy waves of Beca’s hair, then the tightly-fitted bodice of Beca’s dress to the ridiculous flare of ruffles—Chloe’s eyes darkening as they go—before her eyes finally shoot back up to lock onto Beca’s face. “You look nice,” she says politely, though her fingers twitch by her side and she takes two steps closer to Beca. The air already begins to shift between them. Beca struggles to maintain a hold on her libido and her sanity.

"You know, I thought it was kind of stupid, but I think it’s not that bad now,” Beca says nonchalantly, even if her heart begins to race at Chloe’s proximity. She reaches up to brush some hair away from her neck, almost laughing and breaking character when she sees how Chloe’s eyes immediately zero in on the expanse of skin available due to the slightly lower (definitely inappropriate) cut to the dress. “I might make a good elf.” Beca tugs her lower lip between her teeth before shooting a grin at Chloe’s gobsmacked expression.

God, it was hilarious how much Chloe loved Christmas. Or it would be if Chloe's expression weren't morphing into one that more closely resembled lust.

Beca swallows. Damnit.

"Good is one word to use,” Chloe murmurs, clearly regaining confidence. “Small might be another.”

Beca scowls. “Try again. Without using small.”

“Did I lie?” Chloe asks, clearly pleased at having regained some footing. She closes the distance and wraps an arm around Beca’s waist before reaching up to brush some unruly strands of hair away from Beca’s face.

"Kiss me,” Beca demands quickly, hoping to pull Chloe back into her orbit and maintain a hold on the situation.

“I thought Santa’s Little Helpers were supposed to be nice,” Chloe wonders aloud, pressing closer still. The ruffles of Beca’s dress lie trapped between their bodies uncomfortably, but they do nothing to alleviate the heat rising through Beca’s chest.

“I can be nice,” Beca mumbles, eyes flicking to Chloe’s lips not at all desperately.

Chloe smirks—God, Beca hates her—and gently presses the softest, barely-there kiss to Beca’s lower lip. “I missed you,” she murmurs against Beca’s mouth. "I love you," she continues, pressing another firmer kiss. “My little sexy elf,” Chloe teases.

Beca snorts but pulls Chloe in for a firmer, more intense kiss. “Love you too, nerd,” she mumbles quickly in reply before refocusing on her task. She tangles her hands into Chloe’s hair, keeping their lips together. Slowly, she parts her mouth, eager to feel Chloe’s tongue against her own. Chloe hums contentedly before parting her lips obligingly. Both hands now grip Beca’s waist firmly, pulling Beca flush against her body.

Beca hates the clothes between them. She quickly moves her hands under Chloe’s shirt, scraping her nails up her girlfriend’s back while Chloe’s tongue does absolutely sinful things to her mouth. Moaning, she fumbles with the clasp of Chloe’s bra, nearly crowing in delight when she gets it unclasped. Immediately Beca’s hands move to Chloe’s chest and she begins to grope at her girlfriend’s chest, palming delightfully hard nipples. Chloe grunts and gently pushes at Beca’s chest, their lips parting for a moment.

Through heavily-lidded eyes, Beca stares reproachfully at Chloe for ending that kiss far too quickly, but she supposes Chloe is giving her something because her hands have yet to be removed from under Chloe’s shirt. Still, Beca is decidedly displeased by the lack of Chloe’s lips on her own.

"Chloe, why—” Beca begins to whine.

"How long do we have before Amy comes back?” Chloe asks quickly. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip. “I haven’t seen her yet.” Her lips part to expel a quick breath when Beca’s fingers twitch against her breasts.

"Oh." Beca grins, leaning up to press a small kiss against Chloe’s chin before trailing kisses to her jaw. “Didn’t you hear? She has a new fling. She won’t be back for at least the entire weekend.”

"That’s good,” Chloe says before lifting Beca and depositing her on their bed. Beca yelps when her hat is knocked askew and her dress bunches up uncomfortably beneath her. Any complaint dies in her throat when Chloe pulls off her shirt and tosses it, along with her bra, away, leaving her in plain blue jeans. Beca swallows, feeling old insecurities float through her, just for a moment. Sometimes she forgets how effortlessly beautiful Chloe is—how completely out of her depth she feels at times—but Chloe often reminds her how beautiful Beca is and how much she wants her at any given moment. Chloe’s attraction to her is not limited to solely physical attraction, but rather it is an attraction on every level.

Beca finds herself believing it, especially now considering Chloe looks like she wants to devour her completely, Christmas outfit and all.

"God, I want you,” Chloe mumbles, crawling up Beca’s body all lithe-like and unnecessarily hot. Beca is already gasping for air when Chloe’s tongue pushes into her mouth again and her hand is pushing up the thick gauzy material of Beca’s dress. “You’re so hot,” Chloe grumbles, hand coming around Beca’s hip to grab her ass and press their hips together deliciously. She begins to leave open-mouthed kisses against Beca’s jaw and neck before sucking and nipping at a spot just under Beca’s ear.

Tilting her head back, Beca moans quietly, lifting her hips up desperately to create some friction. The small bells on her dress jingle with each shift, but she really could care less, especially not when Chloe finally shifts her thigh and presses up hard against Beca’s center. Separated by both the thick material of Chloe’s jeans and Beca’s festive leggings, the friction isn’t as direct as she would like.

“Chlo,” she begs. “More.”

Ignoring her apparently, Chloe cups her jaw and begins kissing her so thoroughly and deeply that Beca’s hands slacken in Chloe’s hair and she can do little more than allow Chloe to have her way with her. Chloe whimpers against her mouth, hot and breathless before she sits back up between Beca’s spread legs. Biting her lip, Chloe tugs at the waistband of the skirt, letting the elastic snap back against Beca’s midsection. Beca pants, flinching at the contact, but more aroused than ever. Every shift against the bed reminds her of how wet she is, how uncomfortable she is every time her clit licks against the soaked fabric of her underwear.

“I love you in this,” Chloe murmurs reverently. Her fingers trail over the tops of Beca’s breasts, now threatening to spill from the dress. “But. Um. We should, um,” Chloe’s voice is thick and hoarse. “Get this off.”

“Get me off,” Beca demands, unable to help herself.

Chloe flicks the elastic of Beca’s dress again, raising an eyebrow in warning. Still, her hands begin to move again and she finally guides Beca to sit up as well, both of their hands suddenly eager to move as Beca helps her shed the ridiculous dress. It jingles loudly and obnoxiously as it floats to the ground as if saluting Beca once more.

Fucking nuisance.

Chloe laughs at Beca’s disgruntled expression when the dress finally slides off her body and allows Beca to climb into her lap once she discards her stockings and nearly trips over herself in her haste to press her body against Chloe’s again. Chloe begins kissing a trail up her chest and around her collarbone before she leans Beca back a little and nips at the sensitive flesh around her nipples. Beca whimpers once Chloe’s teeth finally graze pebbled flesh. She grabs the back of Chloe’s head to keep her there as long as possible. Chloe’s hands slide under the waistband of her underwear, cupping her ass firmly and steadying Beca’s hips as she begins a quick rocking motion.

Back and forth, back and forth—Beca realizes how close she is to coming as her underwear sticks to her drenched cunt with each shift of her hips.

Too close.

It’s like Chloe has a sixth sense. She pauses her ministrations, lifting her head so she can smile at Beca, lust and desire shining in her eyes. Her fingers slide around so she can rake her nails up Beca’s thighs, the sensation causing a new wave of wetness between her legs. Beca wants to push Chloe back and get herself off on the button of her jeans.

She’s that close.

"Chloe," she breathes. She needs Chloe in her—her tongue or her fingers, she isn’t picky—or she might combust. “Now isn’t the time, I swear. Fuck me. Fuck me,” she enunciates. “I don't have patience today.”

"Oh,” Chloe teases, though any humour is immediately outweighed by how fucking hot Chloe sounds like that. “I’d love to meet patient Beca one day. I’m sure she’d be a good little elf for me.”

Beca hates how quickly her mind immediately files that away under things I will definitely get off to in the future.

"I’ll be good,” Beca promises weakly. “Please, Chlo.”

Chloe’s warmth lifts off her body. She pulls at Beca’s underwear, tugging it off successfully before she settles comfortably between Beca’s legs and immediately begins sucking at Beca’s aching clit.

First, Beca thinks that she is immensely grateful for having discarded the ruffled skirts because she has an uninhibited view of Chloe’s face and the top of her head as she continues licking and sucking at the wet, swollen flesh between her legs.

Second, holy fuck.

Beca swallows, unable to even whine or whimper because of how tight her throat feels. Her lungs strain for air as she gasps breathlessly. Chloe’s fingers dig into her hips, holding her down while she continues using her tongue and lips and teeth in absolutely sinful ways between Beca’s legs. Chloe leaves nothing to the imagination, her tongue slicing up and down through wet folds.

With her head rocking back and forth on the pillow, Beca soon becomes aware of the faintest sound—a lone jingle, muffled by the fabric of her pillow. To her horror, she realizes she is still wearing the obnoxious hat on her head and the bell is caught between her hair and pillow. She reaches up to rip it off her head, but Chloe’s lips immediately tighten around her clit and Beca immediately grabs on to Chloe’s head instead, moaning loudly at the sensation.

“Leave it,” Chloe mumbles.

At first, Beca has no idea what Chloe is referring to, but she then realizes Chloe is referring to the damned hat.

She would laugh if Chloe’s fingers weren’t pressing inside her cunt with practiced ease and immediately setting a punishing pace. Chloe rises slightly so her face hovers over Beca’s. Her lips are parted with the effort of each thrust and her cheeks are flushed. Beca swallows as she stares back, her own jaw unhinged without a care in the world. There is pure lust and want in Chloe’s eyes, like she can’t believe Beca is hers. The desperation of Chloe laying Beca down not too long ago in an act of wanton passion simply because she could and simply because she wanted Beca and missed Beca—

“Fuck, C-Chloe—” She groans, head falling back. “Fuck me, oh God—”

Chloe watches Beca's flushed face with no small measure of smugness dancing across her features—particularly in the glistening on her lips—as she does so. “Good, baby?”

“So good,” Beca whimpers. “Harder, baby, fuck—”

A sharp cry escapes Beca’s mouth as Chloe’s fingers curl and her thrusts become more precise and distinct. From her head, she hears the jingles from the hat, but otherwise, Beca can’t hear much else other than her own panting and Chloe’s heavy breathing with the effort she is putting into fucking Beca into oblivion.

She clenches tight around Chloe’s fingers, her thighs locking up around Chloe’s hips. White explodes behind her eyelids and she quickly presses herself close to Chloe if only to keep her fingers trapped inside her for a moment while her orgasm washes over her in waves.

When Beca’s body finally unclenches, Chloe is peppering kisses along her neck and cheek. Slowly, Chloe’s fingers leave the warmth between Beca’s legs, sliding out of her slowly as to not startle her. With her eyes fixated on Beca’s dazed expression, she licks at her fingers, getting every last bit of Beca off her fingers. “You were so good baby,” Chloe praises before leaning in to kiss Beca thoroughly. Beca hums, enjoying the feeling of Chloe’s lips folding around hers, kissing back with the ease of people who have done so a thousand times before.

Faintly, Beca hears jingling again. Pulling back, she frowns and forces her eyes open. She soon realizes that Chloe is playing with the little bell at the top of her hat, a playful smile creeping across her lips. “Chloe,” she whines. She reaches up to pull the hat off her head, and tosses it aside, hoping it lands somewhere near the garbage can.

“It was cute,” Chloe protests.

Beca frowns. She pushes at Chloe’s shoulder so she rolls onto her back before getting to work at removing Chloe’s jeans which have been on for far too long. “You’re cute. And I’ve missed you. Now shut up so I can go down on you.”

“I don’t think Santa would approve of that language, Bec.”

Later, when Beca is rubbing her slightly sore jaw, thinking she sufficiently exhausted Chloe to the point where Chloe couldn’t do much more than cuddle Beca and keep her warm, she realizes belatedly that her first mistake was to underestimate her girlfriend.

“So...is that candy cane strap-on out of the question?”

“Chloe.”

fin.

#bechloe #fanfiction #pitch perfect #mine #my fanfic #i was gonna make a better gifset but im sick and tired #which is my reasoning for why this gifset is coming so late after the fic itself #bechloe fic #mine:au

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needsomesorrel · 4 years ago

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thank you so much for tagging me @voile-de-lune 🥺, this looks like smf !

if i were a month, i’d be: may ･ if i were a flower, i’d be: ‘ilima ･ if i were a gemstone, i’d be: opal ･ if i were a sound, i’d be: the sims 4 loading screen jingle ･ if i were a colour, i’d be: emerald green ･ if i were a drink, i’d be: strawberry lemonade ･ if i were a fruit, i’d be: guava ･ if i were a quote, i’d be: “the future belongs to those who prepare for it today” ･ if i were a television series, i’d be: steven universe ･ if i were a movie, i’d be: if beale street could talk ･ if i were a fashion brand, i’d be: prada ･ if i were a mythological creature, i’d be: a mage ･ if i were a taste, i’d be: cinnamon ･ if i were a scent, i’d be: laundry detergent ･ if i were a fabric, i’d be: satin ･ if i were a body part, i’d be: thighs ･ if i were a song, i’d be: something foreign - sir ft. schoolboy q ･

I'll tag @nerdferatum , @richhdesire , @therealityofthematteris , and anyone else (if you want to, of course!)

#this took me a lot longer than it needed to

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doof-doofblog · 4 years ago

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"... Charged With The Attempted Murder Of Ian Beale!"

Monday 21st December 2020

Hello again everyone, hope you're all feeling ready for the run up to Christmas, the big day is getting closer and closer and honestly, the main thing I'm looking forward to - the big EastEnders Christmas episode! I hope you're all holding onto your seats because it's going to be gripping roller-coaster ride! Now lets start with the beginning of the week which kicks off it all.

The first thing I want to mention is Karen, Billy and Mitch! Karen has seemed to have made it perfectly clear to her family that she simply doesn't want to celebrate Christmas this year, as her and Mitch feel it's not going to be the same without their daughter, Chantelle. However, Billy is determined to cheer his girlfriend up, he's gone out of his way to spoil her on some gorgeous jewellery, as well as trying to make her laugh and cheer her up by wearing some sexy Christmas underwear, which light up and play "Jingle Bells!" Only all his effort doesn't go down well the way he hoped. Karen and Mitch are still struggling with grief for their daughter after she passed away back in September. This would be the first Christmas without her and together, they are finding it hard to cope and keep up with the Christmas spirit. I did feel for Karen during the scene were she breaks down in the kitchen, after being rallied to help with the Community Christmas Dinner. She breaks down into tears and sobs when they realise that this year it just isn't going to be the same, the recall how much Chantelle loved that time of year and how she's no longer able to celebrate it with her family. Karen states that she just want's to keep it low-key this year, which Mitch fully understands and agrees, but unfortunately, poor Billy wasn't told and carries on with his surprises for Karen. Another blow which crushes Karen is that Gray demands he has his children back on Christmas Day - even though she and Mitch had a day planned around them, regardless of not having their daughter there - I will however, come back to this.

The second thing I want to talk about is everything which revolves around Ian. I kind of loved the way the episode started as he watches everyone from the top window of the Queen Vic. He's watching nervously at every single suspect we're aware of - Tina, Ben, Peter & Suki! Ian is still living in fear as he's starting to realise that someone he knows actually wants him dead. After receiving two bullets, which have been hand delivered to the pub by an unknown source, Ian has been pleading for police protection. However, things seem to take a worrying turn for Ian when 3 loud bangs are heard from the Vic - to me, they clearly sounded like gunshots, the bangs causes shock to everyone on the Square, it is completely unknown what or who made the bangs. Kathy hears them from outside the pub and dashes in to find her son, finding him cowering on the floor in the corner of the Queen Vic kitchen. To try and bring her family together after everything that's happened, Kathy tries her best to convince Ben and Peter, after she finds them at the Prince Albert, to have a family Christmas, to which then Ian overhears and is really against the idea. It's then that Jack enters announcing the information that the bangs from the Vic turned out to be fireworks and not a gun, which everyone had feared. After Ian pleads for them to give him protection, both Peter and Ben reluctantly agree to Kathy's proposal. Later on in the episode Ian is rigid as he's sat around the table with his brother, Mother and two sons - all of who are suspects in the attacking. However, the topic of conversation seems to take an interesting turn when everyone seems to question Ian how the bangs came from the barrel stall, how and who could've got in there without him or Sharon seeing? There seems to be many questions being fired at Ian and he seems to get irritable with them all, however it's only when he offers to buy another round of drinks that a lighter falls out of his pocket. Ben clicks and picks it up off the floor, to everyone's shock it comes to their realisation that Ian was the one who set off the fireworks, in an attempt to make the police listen to his pleads for protection. Everyone is left feeling irritated, annoyed and - to be honest - not in the least bit surprised that once again Ian would fall to another low to try and pass the blame onto someone else.

Thirdly, I'd like to talk about Gray and Tina. Earlier on in the episode, Gray shares the exciting news with Shirley that he could have a potential lead in finding the pizza boy that they're so desperate to find to help support Tina's alibi. Although, unbeknown to her, whilst Gray shares this news with Shirley, Tina is left reeling with her own speculation about Gray. It's only when Whitney approaches and compliments how lucky she has been to have Gray take her in plus to have him on her case, she questions why everyone loves Gray? Of course, after what Kheerat warned her - Tina has been completely on her guard when it comes to Gray, she can't seem to shake the feeling that he's not all he makes out to be, and unfortunately - no one else other than her and Kheerat are the only ones who think it. Of course Whitney is going to be fighting Gray's corner as he's been nothing but supportive for her. Only something tells me that perhaps Whitney wasn't the best person for Tina to rant off to, as of course, Whitney goes running to Gray and informs him of what Tina has said - even dropping his children into the conversation. If he's such a good Dad, why are his kids living on the opposite side of the Square with their Grandparents? Now obviously, the news that Tina has been gossiping about him, is not going to sit well with Gray, it's been made aware that she hasn't really been on the right side of him for a while due to her untidiness etc etc. But this causes Gray to act and confronts his in-laws, demanding to have his children back on Christmas Day, obviously leaving them devastated. Meanwhile as he does this, Tina is at home with Shirley when they get a visit from the police, informing them that there has been new evidence found against Tina. Worryingly they take her to the station to ask her more questions, while she's there Shirley demands Gray to track down the pizza boy urgently! Eventually, it looks as though Gray has managed to track down the pizza boy, it looks as if he's going to pay him to actually be Tina's alibi - at least that's what it looks like to begin with! However when we come to see Tina in the police station, Gray has arrived and sat beside her whilst they go through her statement. It's then revealed that the evidence found against her is her DNA underneath Ian's fingernails. But then there's an even bigger blow which blows everything out of the water and looks to put Tina right at the centre of the attack - the Detective reveals that the pizza boy she previously thought could give her an alibi, has actually said that he never saw her that night! Leaving Tina completely and utterly stunned by this news, it gives the police more reason to charge her with the attempted murder of Ian!! Gray instantly looks suspicious - he clearly paid the pizza boy to lie and claim he never saw her, just to get his own back on Tina!!! Which I think is incredibly cruel!!

The final thing I'd like to mention revolves around Max, Mick and Linda. When we first see Max and Linda, they've clearly woken up after the night before - when they slept together! Max comments how much he feels that their night spent together wasn't a mistake. He makes his feelings perfectly clear that he doesn't want to be the third wheel and be the reason for another broken marriage. For a split moment, it looks as if Linda is regretting her night of passion with Max, as she admits she genuinely has no idea what she wants - as she has never in her life cheated or slept in another man's bed. It's quite devastating for all involved - even when she returns home to Mick and he asks her how her night at her "Mates" was, she simply can't respond and it's perfectly clear Mick knows exactly where she's been, when she can't answer Mick simply says "Good" to her silence! I did find this scene pretty sad - it's as if they have both just come to the realisation that their marriage is on the rocks, and to be honest, it looks as if Mick doesn't even care that his wife has fallen into the arms of another man. I think the previous Mick would've raged and lashed out, but it looks as if he's completely given up the fight for his wife. Which obviously Linda must feel the same, after everything they've been through - it's horrible to see them looking so broken. But, does Mick maybe feel that it's his fault? Does he know it's his fault that she's cheated?! Who knows? Interestingly though, for a small moment it does look like he's beginning to feel anger - as later on, he watches both his wife and Max from the kitchen window whilst they're stood talking on the Square. After staring at them for a while he returns to the kitchen table where he appears to be writing a Christmas tag for his "L", but then he decides to scribble it off and in its place write "From Ollie!"

The one thing that's made known in this episode is that Jack reveals to Max, of all people, that a piece of blue glass was found in Ian's clothing, of course you instantly think it could be some kind of booze bottle. BUT - this is where it gets even more interesting, the final scene of this episode shows Max burying the blue Lucy Beale Award. Why on Earth would he be burying it? Could it be the weapon used to attack Ian? This instantly makes Max look like the guilty party! We do know that Luisa Bradshaw-White is leaving her role as Tina. With the way this episode went, something is telling me that she'll be sent to prison for a crime she didn't do! That may end up being her exit storyline? What do you guys think? She may be in the innocent party and the attacker still could be in fact Max, Peter, Suki or Kheerat - or dare I say, even Sharon?! There are so many ways this could go, I'm really looking forward to seeing who'll be revealed as Ian's attacker!

I just want to mention, obviously over the next few days everyone is going to be spending their time with family during Christmas. It may take me until the 27th to actually catch up. I will do as much as I can post all about the Christmas episodes! You may not see me for a few days but I promise I'll be back very soon to follow up on the explosive Christmas episodes! Have a wonderful Christmas folks! Stay safe! Love you all xXx

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unholyhelbiglinked · 6 years ago

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Camp Beaverbrook | 005

CHECK OUT THE STORY FROM THE START HERE

Dear Dad,

I think I could get a little used to writing these letters. I’m not sure if you’re actually reading them, but if you are, this place isn’t so awful. Certainly, better than the alternative. Wilken’s hasn’t made the trip up here. Canceled the first time due to an emergency but I know I can’t push it off for long. I know that you like him, or whatever. You say he’s a good man, but something is off-putting about him. Maybe it’s the authority.

Your Daughter,

Beca.

The mess hall didn’t smell as appetizing on an empty stomach; the undeniable scent of burnt grease was layered against Beca’s lungs and made her crave something a little stronger. It had a tinged sweetness to it, or maybe that was the syrup that Aubrey Posen was slathering against a stack of waffles. It dripped and ran into a crumbly mess on the edges of the plate. Her stomach churned.

Chloe’s lavender scent was strong and almost eased the concoction. She hadn’t slept very well, the mattress lumpy and the ill attempt by the camp to keep mosquitos out had been futile. Her legs were a scabbed mess, and new pink lumps were against her collarbone. She scratched at them absently, reaching for a piece of toast that was in the middle of the table. Maybe that would settle her stomach.

“You didn’t get in until late last night,” Jessica stated, shoving a mouthful of pancake past her lips as she chewed slowly, trying not to choke on the batter. Her deep grey eyes were staring towards Stacie, the girl reaching for her glass of orange juice.

“Eh,” She shrugged her shoulders, “I met the new counselor from cabin seven. We have a lot in common.”

Aubrey shook her head with a dull smile on her lips, seemingly having lost interest in her pancakes. She drew little patterns in her plate with the sharp edge of her fork. Chloe picked her own stare up from her food.

“You nervous about today, Bree?” She asked.

An odd look crossed her features. Aubrey Posen was tightly wound, and even though Beca had just met her she knew that from the start. The way she sat with her back straight and kept her elbows off the table while she ate gave way to little fun. Last night at the campfire was one of the only times she saw a bit of herself in the girl. The one who would drown out anxieties with alcohol instead of perfectionism.

Beca bit the edge away from her toast. It was dry, but she didn’t want to reach across Chloe to grab the pad of butter. A strange heat seemed to engulf her each time their skin made contact. She blamed the warmth of the fire last night and the fleece blanket that was draped around them. But it happened again this morning as they brushed their teeth together. So domestic, Beca thought.

“Nervous? No. Not really.” Aubrey said “I practically ran the camp last year by myself anyway. This time Gail isn’t breathing down my neck, though. It should be good.”

“No more projectile accidents, right?” A counselor Beca didn’t recognize spoke up. He had created a sandwich out of the pancakes and bacon, unabashedly shoving it into his mouth as crumbs dripped down his dark green shirt. The table shook and he recoiled. “Ow! Jesus Christ, Bree. She kicked me!”

Chloe shrugged, “You deserved it.”

Beca chewed slowly and didn’t ask questions. The wild look in the head counselors’ eyes gave her enough pause. She wasn’t here to make friends, she was here to keep to herself. Though, part of her knew Chloe Beale wouldn’t let her spend the summer coaching kids on how to properly use a jet ski without having some fun herself.

Her eyes moved to the small clock that hung above the doorway. They had been situated in the corner of the mess hall, sheltered from the noise of the campers tiredly eating their own breakfast. She could see the neon light from the kitchen seeping behind the side of the bench. It was nearly eight. Her stomach churned.

“Beca?”

“Huh?” someone had been talking to her. Aubrey had been talking to her. She knit her eyebrows together, looking at the rest of the people staring at her from the table. “What’d I miss?”

“I said the two of us need to talk. I have a binder on water safety that we need to go through. It’s very important. Probably the most important part of this camp. We can’t have any accidents.”

“Yeah, I think I’m good.” She sounded out easily. “Just make sure kids don’t drown, right?”

“It’s more than that.”

She had struck a nerve, Aubrey had turned a different shade of red than she had seen before and it almost made her feel triumphant. Like she was picking at the strings of a violin that was wound all too tightly. It gave her a familiar rush. A defiant one.

Beca pushed her chair back, standing from her seat. “I’m not the one handling arrows, no offense.”

Stacie didn’t’ look up from her food. “None taken.”

Aubrey had grown three more shades of red before Beca gave her a slight salute and turned her back, walking out into the cool morning light. She wasn’t used to the atmosphere of the mountain, but she felt hot. Hot from the interaction that had just occurred. There was dew on the grass that soaked into her pant legs and made them cling to her skin. She pulled her long sleeve shirt closer- the red lifeguard design was painted on with a weird substance, the whistle around her neck jingling with each step she took.

Beca took her time as she walked up to the cabin that overlooked the rest of the camp. It was more of a house than anything, large and looming. It had a green roof and looked like one of those places she would construct out of Lincoln logs when she was younger. Gail had hoarded herself away there like a mad scientist, and Beca never knew if she was supposed to knock or not.

Wilken’s had his black El Dorado parked out front. He had a New York license plate and his engine clicked in groaned from the mountain air. He hadn’t been here long, but Beca knew Gail had already offered him a cup of tea that he would decline. He wasn’t much of a tea drinker.

She knocked anyway and was greeted a few seconds later by the owner of the camp. She looked somber, a flannel and a large pair of thick-rimmed glasses. A mug was in her grasp and it radiated steam, edging at the lenses. Gail offered a kind smile, but it seemed forced.

“You’re early,”

“I thought the walk would be longer.”

Gail nodded and stepped inside. She expected to be led someone more formal, an office with a large oak desk and bookshelves lining the wall. Instead, she was sat in the middle of a sofa that faced two other chairs. A fire crackled to her right and made sweat form against her brow. It was sure to warm up soon, having burned all night. Wilkens eyed a full cup of tea that he was too polite to decline.

He was a dark man, black and grey hair that always accompanied the black suit that he wore. Today he evaded the tie, almost like it was more casual. But she had seen him in a court setting. His only two moods were formal and somber. Today seemed to be the ladder.

“Hello, Rebecca.” He lifted his chin “How have you been?”

“Okay, I think. Everyone is very welcoming.”

She had only been there for three days, and he dropped her off himself. Granted, they hadn’t made much conversation. He wasn’t one to ponder the weather or ask about the tides. instead, they rode quietly with the windows down until it got too cold.

“Good, I’m glad.” He shifted in his seat, the leather squeaking under his weight. “Have you spoken to your father?”

“I write him letters. Have you?”

“No, afraid not.”

Beca nodded. Gail had been watching this interaction carefully. Neither her nor Beca found a reason for these visits and they had barely begun. He would ask the same questions. How have you been? Have you spoken to your father? Have you caused any trouble? To which he would turn to Gail before asking Has she caused any trouble?

Wilken’s got her to sign paperwork that Beca didn’t care enough to read before thanking her and shaking the woman’s hand. He would nod at Beca too, a little form of affection before leaving completely. He drove away before anyone could ask questions an left the two girls in an unbridled silence.

“Want a muffin?” Gail asked, not drawing her eyes away from the fire. “Maybe some tea?”

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Aubrey Posen #Emily Junk #bechloe fic rec #bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #summer camp au

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