#tequlia ? calling my name

[spookitapes]

well guys it’s official….my girlfriend cheated on me….with my childhood best friend😍 i’m fighting demons right now, but hey at least i found out before i was suppose to move in with her next week 😀

[sys-out-print]

cocktails + kinnporsche

it's very much procrastination featuring casual drinking and wiki spirals, the fuel for this episode of nobody-asked-but-listen.

cocktails: shown

1. Blue Margarita

“and for Lada…a little special, i’ll handle it”

the drink name was not mentioned but this looks to be a blue margarita:

tequlia + lime juice + blue curaçao + simple syrup + salt rim

a blue margarita introduces the colour by using blue curaçao instead of the more common orange liqueur (triple sec), which despite the decidedly unnatural colour, is an liqueur that is also orange flavoured (the colour is artificially added), and slightly more bitter than triple sec.

this was also served to tankhun during his virgin visit to yok’s bar (or at least a suspiciously similar blue drink).

🔗 Blue Margarita Recipe

2. Burnt Orange Old Fashioned

“make me a drink”

i mean, they already dropped the ingredients, it’s an (bourbon) old fashioned:

bourbon + sugar + aromatic bitters + orange rind

except! there is a slight variation.

serving an old fashioned usually involves squeezing and occasionally rubbing (no minds in the proverbial gutters) an orange peel around the cup, typically on the rim to let the citrus oil add a little extra flavour and aroma to the drink (a good cocktail tastes great and smells great, as is the common adage).

porsche torches the orange peel instead, which is interesting. the flame used might be to add some smoke and enhance the orange-y aroma (fire slightly caramelises the citrus oil).

or maybe, it’s just to add a little flair to the cocktail preparation. appreciatively, porsche taking the time and extra-ness to make a fancier old fashioned might just be an act of dominance posturing in the capacity of his station, behind the bar and beneath the unavowed threat of a bunch of mafia dudes in the bar sitting in a row like the rockettes.

🔗 Burnt Orange Old Fashioned Cocktail Recipe

🔗 Cocktail 101: How to flame an orange twist granish

🔗 The Blanchard Old Fashioned

3. Flaming B-52 Shot

“ffffiiiiirrrrreeeee”

a lit drink, literally. probably a flaming B-52 shot:

coffee liqueur + baileys + grand marnier + rum

or, a b-52 shot with flames (courtesy of the rum), served with a heatproof straw to protect the pretty faces.

porsche knows how to start a party. liquor com describes the drink as a good-looking shot that “goes down easily and is usually followed by calls for another round”, which was exactly what happened.

🔗 Flaming B-52 Shot

🔗 B-52

3. il cuore de kinn

“meaning?” “kinn’s heart”

very sweet, literally. from the short bartending kinn clip, the drink has:

honey: specifically a honey with the label “THAI HONEY” (which is also in my kitchen cabinet).

2. xii gin: it’s only in a blue bottle, which took some creative googling. had a suspicion it was a gin / tequlia / vodka of some sort, given how the drink is honey coloured (so clear alcohol, not flavoured liquors such as campari, kahua etc) and those are the usual alcohol used in mixes. xii gin is also a dry gin, which would be better for what i think this cocktail is. 

3. lemon: it was on the cutting board (which is very messy, tell-tale sign that the man hasn’t worked in food service ever TT TT) with a huge chunk taken out of it, lemon juice was probably in that drink

as expected, there isn’t some ready recipe for one to be at a bar ordering kinn’s heart, but i believe this is likely a Bee’s Knees:

honey syrup + lemon juice + gin

the gin used should preferably be a dry one (see above on gin xii). the ingredients are shaken, which results in a cocktail that has a yellow hue identical to the drink that kinn is serving up — if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.

side note: point to make is that most recipes call for a honey syrup, not just honey, like kinn is doing because honey doesn’t incorporate very well being a viscous liquid, especially in cold drinks (the cocktail is usually shaken with ice, because tepid cocktails should not exist).

earlier in the same episode, the drinks the boat party attendees are also drinking a similar drink.

🔗 Gin XII Provence

🔗 Thai Honey (Longon)

🔗 Bee’s Knees

🔗 Bee’s Knees Cocktail

cocktails: mentioned

1. Pink Lady

“for this beautiful Jang. Pink lady”

well, porsche sure knows how to pick em drinks, pretty drink for a pretty lady:

gin + applejack + lemon juice + grenadine + egg white

it looks cute and tastes more of candy than spirits but there is a lot of alcohol in the drink.

2. Shaken Vodka Martini

“and the charming kaproy, vodka martini, shaken, not stirred”

to remember that a customer prefers vodka (martinis are also commonly made with gin) in her shaken (martinis can also be stirred) martini is why porsche deserve a lot of drink tips.

this is also popularly known as the james bond drink:

vodka + vermouth + olives

shaking vs stirring

shaking a cocktail (usually with ice) dilutes the drink more (making it weaker) and chills the liquids faster, nothing you wouldn’t expect from going for a rough tumble with ice.

gin vs vodka

gin tastes “botanical” (herby) and vodka is easier to drink (aka less complex).

🔗 Classic Vodka Martini Recipe

🔗 007 Martini Recipe

🔗 James Bond requested that his Martini be "shaken not stirred"? Would it make any difference?

others

1. A T Beer

“what are you doing here”

i don’t think this beer is an actual product. the too-obvious placement should have tipped me off. Chang comes into mind when i think about a thai beer that also use green glass bottles.

🔗 Thai Beer Culture and the Most Popular Beers in Thailand

2. Remy Martin Louis XIII

“do what you want to do”

it’s an expensive cognac, more than a month of my wage kind of expensive. the slight confusion in the bottle being the Louis XIII (the cognac, not the french king) but the cap being more Martin XO (does not cost my monthly wage).

🔗 Remy Martin Louis XIII 700ml w/Gift Box

🔗 Remy Martin XO 700ml w/ Gift Box

3. Fever-Tree Premium Indian Tonic Water

“welcome to hum bar!”

not an alcohol but a mixer still counts right?

🔗 Fever-Tree Premium Indian Tonic Water Bottle

4. Generic Whiskey

maybe it’s bourbon, or scotch. it is just a brownish drink in a nice glass usually served from a crystal decanter and whiskey fulfils fictional tropes of both the mafia and rich people. the bar at the back also seem to only contain whiskey bottles.

5. Generic Champagne

it could be prosecco, but i’m not going to insult the Theerapanyakun wealth like that. 

(okay, that's all)

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

California

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x OC

Warnings: None

A/N:  I lied, I’m only up to part 9 and I am slowly killing myself over this story.  The danger, the action, the softness that’s coming.  Whiskey.   I’m at best going to try and wait a day in between posting each part, but I’d like to get this second part out there to get the jitters off my plate.

Also, I haven’t seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle, so I’m just using the Wikia, IMDB.com, some gifs, and my own weird ass brain to make up this whole ass story.

Tag List:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @tarrevizslas [please message me to be added or subtracted]

[PART 1]

Part 2 

A Day at the Range

 Five years ago

“Come on Sirah, just shoot the damned gun.”  Tequlia sighed.  She crossed her arms and jutted out her jaw.  It was a battle of the wills between two people normally jovial and laid back. But Sirah wasn’t going to shoot the damn gun and Tequila could just stuff it for all she cared.

“I’m not a damned field agent, T!”  She huffed.  “I don’t need to know how to shoot a damned gun and you know that I don’t like them.”

“I don’t care if you don’t like them, you’re gonna learn to shoot the damned thing because Champ said so!”  His voice was beginning to get louder and he crossed his arms, glaring at her.

“I said no!”

“Champ said yes!”

“Champ can go stuff it, then!”

“Champ can go do what?”  The voice of their boss carried through the room over the ever-rising voices.  Both Tequila and Shirley stopped and whipped their heads around.  She had the courtesy to look chagrined, but the look in Champ’s eye was sparkling.

“I won’t learn to shoot a damned gun, I’m not a field agent!  I do research!”  She turned to fully face him and tilted her head.  They called her sweet and cheerful, but when she got mad, Sirah could obliterate her object of hatred.  Champ knew this and felt he was duty bound to save Tequila from an ass beating he really didn’t deserve.

“Sirah,” he sighed, “I asked Tequila to teach you to shoot because we want to move you to more field work and we want you to be able to protect yourself.” He looked down at her with a fatherly look.  Champagne personally recruited Sirah to Statesmen.  He loved her brilliant mind and her attention to detail.  She was a perfect fit for the agency and now he needed those brains to help crack one of their biggest cases yet.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Champ frowned slightly.  He was still in charge after all.  No didn’t cut it.

“Yes, Sirah, we need your brains on a case and it’s going to require field work.  I refuse to send you out into the world where you could get hurt.  Training you to defend yourself needs to happen.”  Champ sighed.

“Who is this ominous sounding ‘we’?” She asked, her tone still flat and stubborn, but her voice considerably lower than it had been a few minutes ago.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, but if I tell you, will you promise not to kick their asses?”  Champ asked

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Came the reply.  He smirked.

“Whiskey, Tequila, and I made the agreement.” At the mention of the other two agents’ names, her eyes narrowed and Champ wondered if maybe he didn’t save Tequila from an ass beating and thought maybe he may need to warn Whiskey next time he saw the agent.  Sirah’s head turned and her eyes glared daggers at Tequila.

“Based on new information on a case out in California, we are putting you on it and you’re going into the field.  Tequila will train you on guns and Whiskey will train you on hand to hand combat.”  He seemed to regain the upper hand as Sirah began to wilt a little at the news.  She did research, not field work.

“But that’s not what I do or what I’ve been trained for.”  She protested but her voice sounded weak and small. She didn’t want to be in the field, she feared it.  She preferred to stay in HQ doing research, behind the scenes things that she had control over.  Not out there where things could go wrong at any time.

“Don’t get all Shirley Temple on me now, honey.”  Tequila walked up next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.  “You are scared because you don’t know what you need to know.  So, Whiskey and me, we’re gonna change that for you.  It’ll be fine.  Besides you been here over five years, its time to branch out a little!”

Despite her reservations, she looked at the two men and realized she wasn’t going to win.  She nodded her head and Tequila squeezed her arm.  Champ smiled and left the room as the two agents walked back to the shooting range they had been standing in front of.

---***---

Two weeks later, Sirah found herself on the ground staring up at the ceiling, experiencing one of the worse aches in a long time.  Her jaw felt like it was fire and she could feel the tears leaking out her eyes.  The footsteps of Agent Whiskey rushed up to her and he dropped on his knees next to her.

“Oh my god, moonshine!”  He hadn’t meant to hit her directly in the face, but she turned differently than he had planned and when his fist connected with her jaw, he immediately regretted it. Unfortunately, physics prevent him from not following through and now Sirah was laying on the floor, a bruise already starting to bloom on her face.

“Please, darling, say something, anything!”  He sounded panicky, which was a first for her.  He was always so charming or smooth sounding or professional.  He was a senior agent only a few years older than her, he had it together.  But now, he sounded slightly hysterical while looking at her.

“Jack, why you gotta be so mean?”  She looked at him, trying to smile through the pain.  He reached out to touch her face and her eyes fluttered shut. She didn’t know if she could take his kindness right now.  She just wanted to cry because goddamn did everything hurt.

With a relieved sigh, he smiled.  Once she learned his name was Jack, she nearly sobbed with laughter. She didn’t believe him, even when he insisted his own dear momma gave him the name Jack and they just so happened to have the last name Daniels.  She never called him Whiskey again.

Jack held out his hand and pulled her into a sitting position.  She wobbled a bit but held steady.  He walked over to the fridge to grab an ice pack and came back to her.  He sat on the floor and held the pack up to her face.  She leaned into it and closed her eyes.

“Sirah, you gotta pay more attention.  You lean forward too much.  Hunker your head down into yourself and raise your arms.”  He patiently walked through all the things they gone over before.  She slightly nodded.

“Jack, I know, but everything feels like its underwater.  I miss things and I honestly didn’t even see your fist coming at me!”  All agents received the same basic training regardless if they go into field work or not, but things like hand-to-hand combat were reserved for others, not for her.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.  He knew what she was talking about, but he had hoped he could train it out of her.  The California assignment was approaching fast, he had to get her ready in only two weeks.  She sighed, too, thinking the same thing.  She felt hopeless.

Jack pulled back and frowned.

“None of that!” He sounded sharp, but not mad.  She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“You’re going to be fine!  You didn’t think you could shoot a gun and look at where you are now.”  She rolled her eyes at him.

“Jack Daniels, if I stood at home plate and took a shot at the pitcher, I’d blow a hole in the first baseman.  I can’t shoot for shit and I can’t fight for shit.”  She sounded resigned, but he had an ace up his sleeve.

“I know you’re lying about your abilities.  I saw you last week sitting on Agent Vermouth’s back, twisting his arm behind him until he cried uncle.  So yes, Miss Sirah, you can fight for shit and you’re gonna do fine.  Now let’s get some aspirin into you and start again.”  He pulled her up and walked her to the first aid kit with his hand around hers.

Damn it, nothing was going to get her out of this was it?

[marigoldjesus]

Catholic schoolgirl with a baptized tongue Soaked in tequlia. The wet dream of a choir boy with a wafer at the bottom pit of my throat. Bite the fruited apple and hands like wine on my body.Deliverance. Diabolical is my name in between the dogs teeth,lilac bone chewed and buried in a garden. Biblical women were all called whores and treated like shit. The smell of rot of a woman's name. Just thrown into a fade of darkness.Just when a nun bent me over and smacks me for refusing to put on a sweater because my nipples are cold and showing. Set my cigarette while two birds chill on it when i smoke. My birth water tears turn into fire. Blood runs down my cheek.Jesus was a woman, all that pain on a body. guarding a hand on a heart because that's the only truth that left. Why do you think we cross it and hope to die.

[jamaisjoons]

21 questions

21 questions and tag 21 people you’d like to get to know better!

I was tagged by @holyfluffly, @bts-poetry, @hobisgorgeousass and @jhspetitegf, @mygsii, @rmnamjoons, @gukgalore, @inkjam-moon sjdlregknelk i think that’s everyone,,,, sorry i was tagged by so many people for this particular tag game aha

1. Nickname: Nell/Nelly - by most people; Shay - but only by my family/people I consider my family; Moons - by one of my favourite people ᵘʷᵘ, Tinky Winky by the lads in my teletubbies GC, Minion by another person who is one of my favourite people, Calamari Countess - don’t ask fjengonr

2. Zodiac: Scorpio bitches ᵘʷᵘ it’s actually my birthday on Friday hehe

3. Height: 5′3″

4. Hogwarts: SLYTHERIN !!!! Both on the official Pottermore quiz and also every other Hogwarts House quiz I’ve ever done

5. Last thing i googled: Starflower kdlrkgrlk so I could show you lovelies what a starflower looks like fjklngkrn

6. Favourite musicians: BTS - all time fave, RM, J-Hope, GOT7, Jackson Wang, Joji, Halsey, Keishi, Barcelona, BMTH, You Me At Six, Seafret,,,, listen I have a lot okay

7. Song(s) stuck in my head: Imma do a Top whatever because,,, I listen to 2 much music and a lot of songs are stuck in my head rn:

Make It Rights - BTS

Lights - BTS

Heartbeat - BTS

You Calling My Name - GOT7

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

Hot Girl Bummer - Blackbear

Walking - 88 Rising, Joji, Jackson Wang & Swae Lee

Tequlia Sunrise - 88 Rising, Jackson, GoldLink and some others

Need Is Your Love - 88 Rising, Joji + others

These Nights - 88 Rising, Chunga, Rich Brian

La La Lost on You - 88 Rising, Niki

Urs - Niki

Bad Back - Jackson Wang, GoldLink

Titanic - Jackson Wang, Rich Brian

June - Sage Charmaine (this song reminds me of Namjoon :( )

Run Away - TXT

Graveyard - Halsey

Suncity - Khalid

To The Sea - Seafret

The entirety to Love Loop by GOT7 :)

8. Following: 158 and most of these are mutuals t b h

9. Followers: :)))) more than I should have/deserve fnoetngr

10. Do you get asks: Quite a few aha, I love that you guys send me messages!

11. Amount of sleep: ????? bArElY jnrgoin on a good day, about 6 hours

12. What are you wearing: Sweatpants + a Sweatshirt + a t-shirt cause its fuCKING COLD

13. Dream Job: Marine Biologist! Maybe owning a Cake Shop owo,,,, ideally to have enough money to retire and just write stories uwu

14. Dream trip: South Korea (I’ve booked my flight for May 2020!!!), Great Barrier Reef - rip Australia has snakes though 𝘺𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, Fiji, idk just places I can be by the beach uwu but I also dislike heat so hnnnn idk

15. Instruments: None I am tone deaf and talentless :) But I’d love to play the piano, violin or harp because those are my favourite instruments!

16. Languages: English only because I’m a disgrace to my heritage. I can read Hangul - but I can’t translate so this is useless, I’ve picked up a few phrases of Japanese from anime but again this is useless because i don’t understand the rest of it ngneoih

17. 10 favourite songs right now: peep the top list xx

18. If you were an animal, what would you be: I’d probably be a cat,,,, everyone tells me I’m very cat-like

19. Favourite food: ........ oh god why,,,,, I don’t really have a favourite food but I have favourite cuisines: like Chinese, Korean, Thai, Mexican, Italian etc but really, I’ll eat most things - other than vegetables ew gross

20. Random fact: I have,,, an odd obsession with socks. Like,,, I just really like pretty socks and I have a lot of them. Like,,, more socks than I probably need and definitely more than I use - but I dislike feet and socks can be really pretty uwu

21.  My aesthetic: Like, in terms of dress sense? Idk usually large tops/jumpers + leggings and then like incredibly simple and fine jewellery (not as in expensive but like,,,, delicate or fragile kind of fine. I don’t like clunky jewellery)

EDITED: I FORGOT TO TAG PEOPLE:

ummm oh god @honeymoonjin @ddaenggtan @seokoloqy @maptoyoongi @la-vie-en-tae @peekaboongi @strawbxxymilk​ @cherrynochu @njssi @minlucent @guksthighs @ve1vetyoongi @countrysundae @ironicarmy @caramelkth @readyplayerhobi​ @hungline​ okay listen that’s not 21 tags but fknerogne its all i can think of rn anyone who wants to do it,, please feel free to! if i’ve tagged you and you don’t want to do it that’s cool too!!

[imagine-always-and-forever]

Flutterings & Tequila - Part 6

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: you’ve decided to go clubbing with your best friend the last summer before college starts to take your mind off of the Mikaelsons who have invaded your life this summer. Specifically, you’re trying to distract yourself from Niklaus Mikaelson and the flutterings he has caused you. Tequlia is your friend tonight.

Part Summary:  it’s time for your date to the art museum with Klaus

Warnings: typical stuff you’d see in the show

Word count: 4,006

Authors note: a bit of a longer part for you! I do have to say that I had so many feels writing this. This is like my absolute perfect date. Especially with him. Anyway, apart from being terribly self-indulgent, this is a little longer than normal since there was so much detail to go into it! I’ve found my love for this series again and I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Part 1 ��|   Part 2  | Part 3  | Part 4  | Part 5

By the time you were ready, you quite honestly could have used a drink. It was a good thing your best friend was there because between having to do your hair and make-up to choosing your outfit, that alone would have taken at least two hours if you were by yourself. Not to mention the shoes and keeping yourself calm from the fact that you were actually doing this.

You shut the door on your best friend after one final wave. Three minutes to go. What should you do for three minutes? Maybe you should touch up your make-up or your perfume? Oh. Wait. A better idea!

Maybe you should figure out just what in the hell was going on here because there was no way that this was just a date. Whatever had brought the Mikaelsons here was not going to be taking a night off so Klaus could take you to an art museum. Was it a setup? Should you call Josie? Maybe they were luring you into a trap?

Of course, you are a witch. It isn’t like you’re defenceless. If someone came at you it wouldn’t take much effort to send them flying in the opposite direction. You grew concerned, wringing your hands as a thought occurred to you: Just what exactly did Klaus want with you? It very well might be your magic. With Josie out the way, he’d have an easier time getting you alone. As he has managed to do already since you’re about to go on a date with him. There was no telling what would happen next. He could force you into doing something for him. Maybe he was holding Josie as a hostage to make you do as he wanted.

You didn’t want to think that he was doing that. He was fully capable of it and probably has done that in the past. You weren’t a fool and though you felt these flutterings, you tried to remind yourself every day just who you were dealing with.

The doorbell rang at four o’clock on the dot.

Opening the door, expected to find Klaus. It was not Klaus. It was a random person in a tux that you had never seen before. You glanced behind them to see if you could spot Klaus but he wasn’t there. Eyeing them up, you supposed he was coming.

Guess he’d gotten caught up with whatever it was that was going on around here and had to cancel.

“Are you Y/N?” the man asked. You nodded. “I’m here to take you to the Art Museum.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I thought Klaus was taking me,” you said with suspicion. You didn’t add that it was for a date because you still weren’t sure if that was what this really was. Certainly not a proper date. Besides, Klaus had said he would come by and pick you up. And now some man was trying to get you into the – was that a limo? – car to supposedly take you to the museum?

“Mr.Mikaelson unexpectedly had to go out and will be awaiting our arrival at the museum,” the man explained.

Unexpectedly had to go out. Right. You eyed the man up. How likely was it that Klaus could casually wrap up whatever had suddenly called him away just in time to get to the museum for your “date?” Clicking your tongue with thought, you weighed up the situation.

Well, you were already dressed up. You didn’t change out of your sweatpants and do your makeup for nothing.

“Okay,” you conceded and with that, the man led you out to the limo.

The seats of the limo were luxurious leather and there was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. There was also an assortment of small snacks and various types of water. Calm music played over the speakers and between you and the driver was a dark divide. You watched out the window, your suspicion of what this was all about and your nerves starting to grow.

By the time you reached the museum, you had no idea what to think. Every explanation for what was happening just either didn’t make sense or could all be plausible. You didn’t know why the Mikaelsons were at that club or why they were even in town for that matter. You didn’t know why Klaus had taken an interest in you. You didn’t know why he asked you on a date. You didn’t know why he was called away. You didn’t know where he got this driver and if he was compelled. You didn’t know what would happen if you tried not to come. You didn’t know what would happen when you would get there. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t there or if he was. You didn’t know anything and though you’d thought about these things all day, you still didn’t have even close to an answer.

The driver opened your door, standing to the side as your eyes adjusted to the bright light outside. You stepped out onto the curb, seeing that he had pulled right up front to the museum. People walking around the streets and around the museum stopped to stare at you. You blushed and hid your face behind your hair.

Who took a limo to an art museum?

“There you are, love. I was getting worried,” Klaus’s voice sounded from your left.

You turned to see Klaus standing there looking handsome with a smile coming to his face as he looked at you. He wore a dress shirt and jeans. It was smart casual and you felt some gratitude for your best friend for suggesting the blouse and dark jeans you were wearing.

Klaus’s eyes raked over your body. That was interest you saw in his eyes, you were sure of it. But it did not mean this was a real date. Despite trying to tell yourself not to hope and keep your guard up, seeing Klaus look at you like that still made you flutter. As Klaus walked towards you, you stopped caring about the people staring at you.

“You look exquisite as always,” Klaus said, leaning in as if he was telling you a secret just for you to hear, an intense look in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Thank you and thank you for the limo,” you said. Klaus smiled. You saw on his collar there was a small blood stain. “I heard you got called away?”

Klaus looked unphased and shrugged it off. “Yes, a family matter,” he explained. You nodded. Clearly, another thing you’d be kept in the dark about. You’d think you would be used to it by know. Klaus held his arm out. “Shall we?”

When you took his arm, there was a part of you that expected something to happen. The kind of something that would make you see the dangerous side of Klaus. That didn’t happen, though. However, something else did.

As your arm slipped between his, you felt a tingle at touching him run up your arm and through your body. The feeling of his body touching you, of the weight and warmth, of the security, even if it was just his arm, was a little breathtaking. You couldn’t help but stare at it, almost in a daze, as he walked with you to the entrance of the museum.

You could feel your heart racing a bit at being led, arm in arm, up the grand stone staircase by him. He who you couldn’t stop thinking about being right next to you, linking your arms together and about to walk into an art museum. It was a little surreal. Knowing that he could probably hear your beating quickly heart made you blush. Perhaps it would have been best to drink some of that champagne you had seen in the limo. You tried letting your hair fall into your face again to hide your blush.

Klaus flashed something to the guards and you walked right in, bypassing the lines and security check. He guided you straight through a set of large and ornate wooden double doors. Inside, the museum opened up to reveal a beautiful array of breathtaking artwork. You found yourself stepping forward, letting your hand slip from his arm as you looked around in awe.

They were beautiful. You had no idea there was such a gem of an art museum here. Some of this work looked like significant pieces in the art world. You spotted names of famous artists and breathed in an amazed gasp. This was wonderful.

“I didn’t know this existed,” you said as Klaus walked up to you, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked around at the paintings.

“It’s a special exhibition for the next few nights only,” he explained.

“Is that why there was security?”

“Yes.”

“But you got passed it?” you asked, and turned to smile mischievously at him. You both knew how he managed that. He smirked in response and laughed. You grinned and turned to look at the paintings.

“This is what you wanted, correct?” Klaus asked as he watched you take it in. You nodded. “I believe,” Klaus said, and you tore your eyes away from a Van Gogh to look at him, “you said you wished to hear about the paintings?”

You smiled. Yeah. You did. Hearing about the history of these painting from Klaus was a serious honour. He was probably the most knowledgeable art historian on the planet. Not to mention, as an artist himself, he’d be able to explain the significance of what you were seeing. He could explain the history and the context, he could explain the background of it all. In fact, he could probably tell you a few personal stories about the painter himself.

“Where shall we start?” he asked with an excited smile.

You looked around until you spotted a painting of a woman in an off-white outfit sitting alone on her bed with angels watching her. You pointed at it. “Here.”

Klaus and you walked over, and he took in the painting. His eyes scanned over it and he absorbed every detail about it. He read the name of the artist, nodding, and then tilting his head, he thought for a while about what he was looking at.

You watched as he did this, feeling a wave of awe wash over you at him. There was something about the way he was with art. You’d seen it when you walked in that time when he was painting. It was as if a flower existed inside Klaus. A beautiful and unique flower. A delicate flower that needed to flourish in the sun and be seen by all for its magnificence. But a flower that was kept hidden away so the world wouldn’t hurt it. Protected and secure as it was too vulnerable and precious to risk. A flower that everything else in Klaus protected at all costs. And yet, with art, the flower was revealed. It came out, often when nobody else was around or everyone was too busy to be aware of it. As it was out, it blossomed even more beautifully and thrived in the colours of the paints and freedom of the art Klaus was immersed in.

You weren’t sure if Klaus would particularly like being aware that you were comparing this part of him to a flower. But there was no other more accurate way you could think of as this was exactly what was happening. This flower was like Klaus’s core. Like his soul. And, despite all the stories and what Klaus himself believed, it was rather beautiful.

“What do you see?” Klaus asked.

You startled a little when you suddenly found his blue eyes on you. He smiled in amusement, and you let your hair fall to cover your blush again. You swallowed and looked at the painting.

You took note of everything you saw. The girl. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She had a long oval face. Her eyes were downcast, looking at something in her hands. It was a small box. Golden and bright. Out of place amongst the room, she was in.

The room itself was rather large but held little in it. It was messy. There was a wooden table with things on it. Letters, jewellery, a mug, some grapes. There was a dresser behind the bed, old and beaten up. Clothes were hanging out of it. On the worn wooden floor were clothes, papers, and pieces of trash. The fireplace was large. Too large for the room. It was crumbling, as were the walls. Cobwebs covered it and there was no firewood in it. Above the fireplace hung a simple cross.

At the top of the girl’s bed was a window. Stained glass. It looked far too beautiful for the room. The light shone in brightly and a beam of it cut through the grim of the floor. Another beam lit the fireplace up with a warm glow in an otherwise cold room. And a third beam warmed the girl’s face up.

The angels sat above, almost as if they were outside the painting looking in. They were chubby and softly painted. Their blue eyes gazed down at the scene. Some of them were reaching down into the painting. Others were playing the harp or holding small beaded bracelets in their hands. One leaned back, almost as if against the top of where the chimney would poke out. His blonde curls cradled his face and his dark eyes looked at the girl.

You told all these details to Klaus. He nodded as you listed them. When you were done, you looked at him for more instruction.

“But what do you see?” he asked.

You frowned. Had you missed a detail? You walked closer and peered at every inch of the canvas, so much so that you were taking note of each brush stroke and where more paint from the brush had gotten onto the canvas than other places.

“Look for the meaning behind the details,” Klaus advised you. He walked up close, standing next to you. He pointed at the window. “See the contrast of the warmth it brings into the room?” You nodded. “Can you feel the only warmth it brings?” You nodded, concentrating on the light. “How does it make you feel?”

“Found.”

Klaus moved closer to you and turned your head so you would look to the right. “And the state of the room?”

“Forgotten.”

Klaus nodded. Suddenly, you saw so much more.

“And the object in her hand feels hot. The light beams feel like something is pointing me somewhere. I’m not just found but welcome.” Your eyes look to the angels. “None of the angels except that one is looking at her. And they have the same eyes.” Your own eyes dart to the girl. “She’s sad, desperately sad. But the angels are there to watch over her yet only one seems to connect with her sadness.

“They all are calling for her to turn to god. But she’s turned away because she’s lost. The light is guiding her, assuring her, but she’s not sure if she’s ready to be found. She’s drowning. The angel that’s looking at her is the only one without anything in it’s hand. The golden box she holds is the angel’s box. It’s his because he is hers. She’s a young woman that’s lost her child and now that he’s an angel, he’s looking down at her so she won’t be alone.

“It represents loss.”

You stepped back, your eyes tearing at the meaning in the painting. Beside you, Klaus was quiet.

“Tell me about the painting technique,” you asked him. You looked over to him, your eyes still shining, and the expression on his face was soft and caring. He nodded and turned back to the painting.

You listened to Klaus explain the brush technique. He explained the colour choices and their texture. He explained what the paint used was made of and how they blended it. He told you about the history of the painter, someone he hadn’t known personally but admired. He told you about the world at that time and the context gave more life to the painting in front of you. He told you everything there was possible to tell about this painting.

When he was done, he glanced at you to see if he had bored you. Your eyes were dancing in interest and wonder. His smile was hesitant. He stepped closer to you and told you to look into the paint at the bottom right corner. You did. He told you a secret the painters did at the time. When you focused hard, you could see the specks of the wrong colour in the paint. Klaus told you it was a signature, made with paint that was homemade, making it courser but also harder to remove from the other paint around it. It was like choosing to write in permanent pen on the canvas and painting over it so nobody could erase your name form your work. You smiled.

Klaus watched you take the painting in again. The flower was blooming and you were fluttering.

“Tell me about this one,” you asked him, walking over to another painting.

Klaus followed and the whole process started over again. You did this for hours, stopping at painting after painting and learning everything you could from Klaus. You loved hearing him explain it all to you.

There was something about how he spoke about the art that made your flutter more. There was a warmth in his voice that had you knowing you could listen to him forever and never want him to stop talking. It was soothing, in a way. And you loved when he gave his opinion on the pieces you saw. You loved hearing him talk about the art.

After Klaus finished a story about one painting, you noticed that there was nobody else in the museum. There were no windows, so you had no idea what time it was and you hadn’t looked at your phone since you were at your house. How long had you been here? Where had everyone gone?

“Love,” Klaus said, his voice soft and quiet.

You looked at him, seeing something in his eyes you couldn’t place. For a moment, you forgot all about your worries. This had been the most enjoyable day you’ve had in years and you could truly say the past however many hours it has been, has been your happiest. You didn’t want this to end.

Klaus stepped closed to you.

There, in the empty museum, with some of the most prized paintings in the world, you stood inches away from him. The chill of the stone walls and marble floors faded into the background. The lights seemed to dim around you and all alone, the two of you felt like the only people in the world. Your heart picked up and you couldn’t look away from him. You let your hair fall in your face for some kind of protection against the vulnerability of him seeing your reddened cheeks. You couldn’t move back as he closed the distance between you, your eyes glued to him as the flutterings filled your body.

Klaus reached out and his hand came up to brush your hair out of your face. His eyes soaked you in, all of you. You still weren’t able to move. You might not be breathing. Klaus’s gaze came to rest on yours and you realized of all the beautiful paintings you saw, his eyes put them all to shame. At the thought, you felt yourself blush further and once again tried to hide behind your hair.

“Don’t,” Klaus said so very quietly. You glanced up at him from behind dark lashes. “I like seeing you blush,” he admitted and for the first time ever, you saw a shy smile on his face.

You wanted to say something. Anything. But no words would come. You let Klaus brush your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering. It came down to softly caress your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. It was too intense. To intimate. You were losing to the flutterings.

Klaus leaned in.

Your eyes drifted to his lips and suddenly you felt fear shoot through you. The sheer anticipation of him kissing you, the very idea of it, was terrifying. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Not right now. You couldn’t speak or move away. You couldn’t deny your desire or the moment urging you, calling to you desperately, but kissing was impossible.

Klaus’s lips were going to touch yours any moment. His hand was holding your chin softly like you were precious. You couldn’t be sure if his eyes were on yours or your lips because you simply couldn’t look anywhere other than his own plump lips so close to yours. His breath fanned over your lips and your eyes slid closed.

You waited.

“How about we go for that ice cream?” Klaus asked.

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. Slowly, you open your eyes. Klaus was no longer standing so close to you. It was as if he had never been about to kiss you. Had he been about to kiss you? Had you imagined it all?

You felt a turmoil of emotions but Klaus was waiting for your answer. You smiled.

“Sure,” you said, surprised your voice worked at all.

The two of you walked back through the museum and you discovered you really were the only ones left inside. Klaus had your arm in his again. He opened the door for you and you walked out into the dark night.

Oh.

The stars sparkled above you and the moon lit up the street. You looked around and saw families and couples taking nighttime strolls. Klaus guided you down the stairs, not saying a word as your time in the museum turned into a surreal memory. By the time you reached the last step, it was as if you had stepped out of a fantasy.

But Klaus was still on your arm, or rather, you were still on his. You allowed yourself a smile. Just a small one. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe a date is just a date after all.

Why you? It was the new question that was rattling around your head. Why did you make him look at you like that? Why you? What was about you? You glanced at Klaus, who was walking with his head held high and his eyes forward, and you traced his handsome profile. Why him?

You supposed love didn’t really have to answer to anyone.

“I know a fabulous little creamery down the corner,” Klaus said as you gazed at him during your epiphany. He had a peaceful smile on his face and a look of anticipation in his eyes. “What do you say we see if they’re still open?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say and if your voice is a little faint, Klaus doesn’t notice.

The creamery is indeed open. The shop itself is tiny. When Klaus said it was on the corner he really did mean it. As if wedged into the curve of the building, a glass door opened into about a three-foot tiled floor. Enough for maybe one person while the rest was taken up by the ice-cream display. There were four flavours: vanilla cream, chocolate, mint, and fruit. The fruit was whatever was the fruit of the day.

Klaus asked you what you wanted and you responded with your favourite flavour out of those four. He disappeared inside while you waited. The man inside was old and grey, and immediately recognized Klaus. You saw him smile and they talked. It was nice to see and you gave them privacy as you looked up to the stars above.

That was the last thing you remembered.

[awwishfulthinking]

A Look at Galaxy Angel II/3rd Manga Vol. 4

A bit of background info:

The Galaxy Angel manga series is comprised of three manga collections/stories in all--Galaxy Angel (five volumes), Galaxy Angel Beta/2 (three volumes), and Galaxy Angel II/3rd (six volumes). Galaxy Angel II/3rd covered the basic plot of the GA II game series, and features a new set of girls and a new male main character.

The entire Galaxy Angel manga series was being translated by Broccoli Books USA. Unfortunately, while they were in the middle of translating the Galaxy Angel II manga (called Galaxy Angel 3rd in Japan), the company was dissolved. So as of this date, only the first three volumes of this particular series exists in English.

It took me a few years, but I eventually managed to get a hold of the remaining three volumes (in Japanese) from the Mandarake online store. I’ll showcase some photos and make an attempt at some sort of summary for these last few volumes...

Starting with volume 4.

(As a note, all of my future posts relating to these volumes will be tagged with “galaxy angel 2 manga” on my blog.)

I am not going to make dedicated posts to the first three officially translated volumes (because I don’t have the time for that); but I’ll give a brief summary here because the manga’s story is significantly different to the game in some parts.

Volume 1:

Most of the former Angel Troupe/Angel-tai members have either retired or moved on to other military positions and are now spread out over Eden and Neue--with Neue being a new galaxy that was just discovered.

Eden and Neue are connected by a space called the Absolute, and that is connected to a Gate (appears as a giant ring in space) that has to be opened by a gatekeeper--who happens to be Milfeulle.

The people from Eden are trying to restore Neue, and bring more advanced technology to its people.

Kazuya (a Neue native) has been picked randomly by Milfeulle to be a member of the new Angel-tai/Angel troupe.

He’s the first male member to the team and is welcomed aboard the Luxiole by Apricot.

The next few chapters deal with Kazuya meeting the rest of the crew that are currently on the Luxiole (Nano-nano, Kahlua/Tequila, and the mechanics, medical staff, and other staff).

The Angel-tai’s main goal currently is to find other gatekeepers--as Milfeulle is the only known gatekeeper and is thus trapped within the Absolute for the time being (in a structure called the “central globe”). Apricot and Takuto (who is officially Milfeulle’s husband in the manga), really want to free her from what is essentially a prison.

Anyway, Kazuya is the designated pilot of a ship called “Braveheart,” whose purpose is to merge with the other Angels’ ships and boost their power levels.

Anise makes her debut by stealing the Braveheart and Nano somehow gets kidnapped as well in the process.

Volume 2:

The Luxiole gets an S.O.S message from Milfeulle but it cuts out before she can really say anything.

Anise and Nano are rescued from a fleet of enemy ships commanded by a woman named Dieta--and the Braveheart is taken back. Takuto commands the Luxiole to head towards the planet of Seldor, which is the planet closest to the Gate and the Absolute that Milfeulle is in.

The next two chapters following this scenario focuses on how Kazuya is beginning to develop feelings for Apricot and how he wants her to see him as a man (as Apricot currently just sees him as a replacement for her older sister, Milfeulle).

The next chapter after THAT has Anise becoming an official member of the Angel-tai to pay off her huge debt to Mint.

We get a sneak peek at Lily, who still has yet to join the rest of the Angels onboard the Luxiole.

Volume 3:

The volume begins with Forte staging a coup d'etat. She has taken both the Absolute and the planet Seldor (and King Soldum), and claims that she’s doing this because the Neue citizens have been “babied” for too long. Because Forte's attacking them with her fleet, Takuto and co. have to make an escape using chrono drive.

At Anise’s suggestion, they all resolve to visit the planet Magiic to gain supplies and allies.

En-route to Magiic, they need to make a stop at planet Pico and Femto to heal up Nano-Nano, who used up all her nanomachines healing people in the aftermath of Forte’s attack.

They manage to pick up Lily, also enroute to Magiic. She explains that Forte led the coup to prevent casualties to the hostages: the planet of Seldor and King Soldum.

Kahlua’s past is hinted at in this volume.

The gang make it to Magiic safely; but while they are touring a city on the planet, Dieta indirectly causes a building fire. This triggers traumatic memories in Kahlua and she has to be sedated and put into an emergency pod.

Now that we’ve gotten those out of the way, it’s finally time to delve into Volume 4!!!

DISCLAIMER 1: I do not know Japanese at all so a lot of these “summaries” will be based on info I’ve gathered from the translated volumes that were officially released; as well as the Galaxy Angel fan wikia. I don’t claim any sort of plot accuracy in these posts, I merely wanted to give a brief run-down (as best as I can) of what happens in these volumes.

DISCLAIMER 2: I do not want to scan these volumes for fear of damaging the binding, so I’ve only taken photos. I’m not a professional photographer and don’t have a nice fancy camera so these photos are not so great. Due to my work schedule and life stuff that I need to take care of, I don’t have the time to touch these up beyond resizing and cropping them. Sorry.

~Chapter 16~

Following directly from the events at the end of volume 3, volume 4 opens up with Dieta infiltrating the emergency pod Kahlua was put in. She exposes Kahlua to some sort of powder (I’m assuming it’s some strong alcohol-based chemical), which turns her into Tequila. Dieta then curses her by marking Tequlia with some sort of magical rune.

Ranpha (who the other Angel-tai members met on Magiic) finally meets up with Takuto and they have some kind of conversation; most likely relating to negotiations with the Magiic forces. Ranpha is now the ambassador on planet Magiic, so she would be the best person to convince the Magiic forces to ally with the Luxiole.

MEANWHILE, Kahlua/Tequila has been transferred to the Luxiole’s infirmary. She’s currently unconscious and everyone’s worried about her. The Angel-tai eventually leave so that Kazuya can watch over Tequila alone, as he was the one who saved her from the burning building.

Kazuya begins talking to the unconscious Tequila, apparently musing about how he saw Tequila (or some kind of apparition of her) appear to protect Kahlua when they were trapped in the fire. I think Kazuya also wonders about the bond between Kahlua and Tequila (or about how the split personality developed).

Tequila suddenly wakes up! But the curse Dieta puts on her activates and Tequila loses control of her powers and starts burning everything, including Kazuya.

Mimolette (Kahlua/Tequila’s cat familiar) jumps in at this point to place a protective shield around Kazuya... and an apparition of Kahlua materializes. Kahlua and Tequila converse, and Tequila somehow manages to calm down and overcome the curse put on her. Her clothes got burned off in the process, so Kazuya lends Tequila his jacket. Apricot walks in on the two in a... very compromising position and immediately walks away, much to Kazuya’s distress.

~Chapter 17~

Suddenly, everyone gets called to the Bridge--Dieta’s fleet has appeared and everyone gets ready to fight. Kazuya and Tequila arrive with Tequila still naked with only Kazuya’s jacket covering her, which causes Apricot to glare angrily at Kazuya.

Anyway, Kazuya and the rest of the Angel-tai fly out and prepare for battle. Dieta formally introduces herself to Takuto and co. (The weird cropping here is because Dieta’s outfit is super fanservicey and I don’t wanna get accidentally flagged.)

Kazuya’s ship merges with Tequila’s Emblem Frame (the Spell Caster) and there’s a big space battle. The merged ship is able to basically take out Dieta’s flagship (which Dieta is on). Tequila briefly remembers her magic battle with Dieta on planet Magiic. I mostly just took a photo of this page because it shows off Tequila’s cool outfit.

Tequila shows absolutely no mercy and completely obliterates Dieta’s ship... Everyone is happy that this threat is now gone, but Kazuya seems kind of shocked by Tequila’s actions. (Probably because it was so violent?)

Sometime later after the battle, Kazuya goes to the Luxiole’s park to relax. He meets with Tequila there, still wearing his jacket. Kazuya asks for his jacket back in annoyance, and the two somehow get to talking. Tequila reveals that Kahlua suffered a traumatic moment in her youth. She had tried to show off some fire magic to a friend named Mimolette (yes, it’s the same spelling as the name for her cat familiar); but Kahlua ended up scaring her friend away because of how powerful she was.

After this event, Kahlua was so mentally distraught that she developed a separate personality (Tequila) to cope. This personality ended up being the only one capable of using Kahlua’s magic well.

Back in the present, Tequila still seems upset about something (probably worried that people are scared of her because of her magic powers) and Kazuya reassures her. Tequila then jumps on top of Kazuya (as he’s lying on the grass) and teases him... but then suddenly transforms back into Kahlua, who does not remember anything that happened. Apricot again catches the two in a compromising position, but this time Apricot beats up Kazuya for it.

~Chapter 18~

Somewhere in the Luxiole, Croix and Coronet (the mechanics) end up finding some kind of fancy looking white Emblem Frame. (I have no idea where they found it or how.)

The story then switches right into a dream that Apricot is having. She dreams about her older sister Milfeulle baking sweets... who then transforms into Kazuya. Kahlua and Tequila then appear by his side, and Apricot wakes from her dream with tears in her eyes. She begins to wonder about how she really feels about Kazuya. Does she still think of him as merely a replacement for her sister?

Everyone gets called to the Bridge where Takuto reveals some good news: Ranpha seems to have managed to convince the people of Magiic to lend their aid to the Luxiole.

(And she also looks beautiful on this page)

Apricot and Tequila end up talking things out, while Kazuya and Anise hang out in the hangar to marvel at the fancy new Emblem Frame. Kazuya suddenly feels compelled to touch the ship and it reacts to him, opening up to reveal an injured girl.

She’s taken to the infirmary (where I assume she’s healed up by Nano Nano) and Takuto calls everyone to the briefing room to talk about the girl and the mystery ship. Nano Nano says some things about what she’s found out about the mysterious girl but I don’t understand any of it because I don’t know Japanese.

SUDDENLY Tequila and Apricot show up, in switched outfits/hairstyles. I’m assuming this is all Tequila’s attempt to pull Apricot out of her funk or get Kazuya and Apricot together. Tequila uses her magic to shove Apricot onto Kazuya and that goes about as well as you would expect.

~Chapter 19~

Mystery girl has woken up and is now hiding out in the park. For some reason surrounded by piggies.

Judging by the sudden increase in complex shading, this is most likely a colored page in the magazine (that this chapter was originally published in) that unfortunately got reduced to a grayscale printing in the volume release. Anyway I did find a color version of this picture on some sort of trading card thing so here you go:

(It’s more apparent on a later manga cover, but mystery girl’s hair is silver--and her eyes are red.)

Anyway, we switch perspectives to Takuto and Kazuya. Kazuya is being grilled by Takuto because Takuto is curious about who the younger man likes. Takuto (correctly) guesses that it’s Apricot and Kazuya gets flustered and leaves.

Kazuya still feels bad or guilty (somehow) about the unfortunate circumstances with Kahlua/Tequila before, and decides to make some apology treats for Apricot. He finds her in the park, where Apricot has found the mystery girl sleeping.

Kazuya and Apricot talk to each other about... something. They accidentally wake up the mystery girl.

*insert a SCENE CHANGE here*

Honestly, from here on out I barely understand what’s going on because this whole sidestory is a manga original story so. Bear with me here.

Mystery girl does some magic techno stuff before formally introducing herself to the Angel-tai. (And she looks really cool doing so)

Her name is Mimoza and she’s supposedly a gal from the past... and I only know this thanks to the next manga preview blurb at the end of volume 3, for the never officially translated and released volume 4.

I think Mimoza starts telling the Angel-tai about her history and her travels or something... Anyway she mentions aliens. Not sure if she met with them or if she actually worked under them.

She then dramatically points out Kazuya because he’s special or something. And they are linked to each other through the Braveheart. Or something. I have no idea.

While Kazuya stays behind in the hangar to talk some more with Mimoza, the rest of the Angel-tai regroup with Takuto who asks the group if they consider Kazuya to be an important part of the team.

Mimoza then pushes Kazuya off the ledge either for funsies or for *dramatic effect* because she immediately saves him afterwards.

~Chapter 20~

(I hope tumblr’s resizing doesn’t destroy the quality of this photo further)

Without informing anyone, Kazuya and Mimoza fly out in Mimoza’s Emblem Frame to a nearby planet (Planet Cocoon)--which also coincidentally happens to be Mimoza’s home planet from I think 600 years ago. The entire planet has become a desert with some ruins scattered about.

After Kazuya brushes some sand off the ground, he manages to activate some sort of magic circle or portal.

Back on the Luxiole, I think the rest of the Angel-tai finally realize that Kazuya is missing. They also come to realize that they do consider Kazuya to be an important part of their team. And so they head out in their respective Emblem Frames to find Kazuya.

Back on the desert planet, Kazuya and Mimoza find themselves in an underground cavern.

Whilst traversing the caverns, Mimoza tells Kazuya about how she was separated from (I’m assuming) someone she was in love with; due either to a catastrophe or due to some invading forces. And she ended up (I guess) in some kind of time warp which sent her to the future.

Kazuya and Mimoza eventually discover a ship in the depths of the caverns, that looks almost exactly like Kazuya’s Braveheart. Mimoza is saddened when she finds the cockpit empty.

Mimoza and Kazuya then part ways here, as Mimoza decides to use this newly discovered ship to try going back to the past.

Kazuya then tries to make his way out of the caverns only to be chased by some kind of fearsome monster--which gets obliterated by Tequila.

The other Angel-tai members appear and there’s a happy reunion scene as they all return back to the Luxiole together.

Annnnd volume 4 ends there.

Bonus illustration page featuring Mimoza:

I will hopefully be able to get the posts of volume 5 and 6 out soon. This one was a beast of a post but only because I had to get all of the background info out of the way first.

See you next time!

[meredithkristengrey]

DRABBLE #4 - JOE'S BAR.

It was the day before her first day at work and Meredith Grey had just gotten a letter in the mail not too long ago saying she has been accepted to Seattle Grace Hospital. The same hospital her mother, Ellis Grey had worked at. Her mother was one of the greats. A General Surgeon. A famous doctor who everyone went to see. Wanting to tell her mother about her internship, she knew she couldn’t. Her brilliant famous mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's a month back. Receiving that call from her mother was hard on her. Not only because she has a medical illness, an illness that had no cure for, but because her mother was so hard on her. Ellis Grey was never around to spend time with her daughter so she and her mother never had an actual relationship. Their relationship was nothing but not knowing each other much and fighting. Mostly fighting over the fact that Meredith wanted to go to medical school but her mother didn’t want that. The woman wanted to be like but not fully like her mother. Becoming a doctor to help people. She was pretty much raised in the hospital so she knew pretty much anything. If a random doctor was to ask her questions, Meredith was sure she would answer it in a heartbeat.

The day had gone by, the urge to wanting to talk to her mother was bothering her. Lately her mother hasn’t been fully there. Not remembering who her daughter was but only the past. Remembering the time when Meredith was little but not who she is now. Meredith was a full-grown woman but her mother doesn’t even recognize her at the moment. All she knows is that there is a random stranger visiting her. Making sure she’s okay and overseeing all of her medical bills and everything. It was hard for her. All of that was making Meredith to have fun for the night. The blonde woman wanted to have one last fun night before she starts her internship. Before her life is no longer her life which will belong to the hospital after tomorrow.

Being ready, the blonde woman finished getting ready to head out to this bar that was called Joe’s bar. Right across the street to Seattle Grace hospital where she was supposed to start the next day. Walking into Joe’s, the woman head over to the bar counter and sat down on the island counter bar stool. “Straight Tequlia.” Meredith said to the bar tender. Thoughts have gone through her mind about her mother and her first day tomorrow. Keep switching to both thoughts a man sat beside her ordering his own drink. Not even noticing him, a voice came from his lips. "So, is this a good place to hang out?" the man asked the woman. Clearing her throat, Meredith looked at the man and back down at her drink. "I don't know. I've never been here before." Meredith said to the man. "Ah, you know what, I've never been here before either. First time here. I'm new in town." Derek said with a smile. "I've never been to Seattle. A job soon."

The woman was a little bit nervous with the man just randomly coming up to her to talk. Not knowing what he wanted and why he was talking to her, but he kept on trying to get a conversation going with her. Taking a sip of the woman's tequila, she continued to look away. Derek seeing the woman not answering her back, believed she was ignoring her. He took a sip while looking at her. "You're ignoring me" the man said while looking away. Looking over at the man who was trying to keep a conversation going, a small smile appeared on her face. "Um... I'm trying to." Meredith said. "You shouldn't ignore me." he said in a flirty tone. "Why not?" the woman asked curiously. Derek picked up his glass, took a sip of his drink and placed it down on the counter before looking back over at the woman. "Because I'm someone to get to know to love."

While listening to the man, Meredith looked away before looking over back at him with a smile on her face. "Really?" she asked curiously. "Oh yes." the man said with a huge smile on his face. "So, if I know you, I'd love you?" Meredith asked curiously again. "Oh yes." Derek said again to her. "You really like yourself, huh?" Meredith asked with a smile, still not sure what's going on there, but she decided to go on with it and let the man be happy that he's being able to talk to her. "Just hiding my pain," with a smile on the man's face, he continued to look into the woman's eyes and then the two shared a laugh. The man looks down at the counter before looking back up at her. "So, what's your story?" he asked, wanting to get to know the woman. Meredith looked over at Derek with a smile still on her face. "I don't have a story. I'm just a girl in a bar." Derek raised up his glass and back down, "I'm just a guy in a bar." he said as he took a sip of his drink. The couple shared a look while smiling at each other.

An hour had gone by, Meredith offered the man to come over to her place to pick up where they left off. Being drunk, she got them a taxi and minutes later, they finally arrived to her place. Having a few more drinks, Meredith kissed Derek and they started to take off their clothes and spent the night together in her living room, only that it wasn’t her living room but it was her mothers. She was only staying there until she found a new place to live or maybe to even keep the place, she wasn’t too sure at that moment. At that very moment, she didn’t care. All the woman cared about is having a little fun before she starts her big day at work tomorrow. To become an intern. Before her life is no longer her own, but the hospitals.

The next morning, Meredith woke up naked on the couch with a naked man who was laying on the floor. Sitting up on the couch and getting up, she pulled the blanket off of Derek and wrapped it around her as she walked away from him. The man woke up “This is...” before Derek could even finish his sentence, Meredith interrupted the man. “Humiliating in so many levels.” Meredith turned around, looking at Derek as he got up to get ready to get dressed. “You have to go.” the woman said to him. “Why don’t you come back down here and we pick off where we left off?” Derek asked as he got up off the floor. “No. Seriously. You have to go, I’m late which isn’t what you want to be on your first day at work, so.” Meredith said to the naked man who was just about to get dressed. Pulling the hair out of the woman’s face. “So, uh... You actually live here?” the man asked while buttoning up his pants. Meredith paused a little before answering Derek’s question.

This conversation was making her feel weird, not only because it was weird, but because it felt awkward to ask something like that after they first slept together. Especially for a one-night stand. “No. Yes. Kind of.” Meredith said while a smile was on her face and felt a little awkward. The man looked at her “Oh,” he pauses for a moment. “It’s nice. A little dusty. Odd, but nice.” he looks around. “So how do you kind of live here?” he asked, curiously wondering how you can kind of live somewhere and not actually live there. “I moved here two weeks ago from Boston. It was my mother’s house. I’m selling it.” Not knowing how that sounded, it probably made the man thing her mother was dead when she really wasn’t. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Derek sent his condolences. Looking at the man a little confused, she wasn’t sure what he was saying he’s sorry for. “For what?” she asked curiously. “You said was.” Without noticing that, she realized she made him thought her mother was dead. “Oh, my mother's not dead, she’s,” the blonde paused a second. “You know what? We don’t have to do the thing.”

“Oh. We can do anything you want,” said the man with a smirk on his face as he continued to get dressed. With the blanket wrapped around the woman’s naked body, she started to use her hand as gestures when words came out of her mouth. “No, the thing we do to exchange the details, pretend we care. Look I’m going upstairs to take a shower, okay? And when I get back down here you won’t be here, so. Um... Goodbye, um...” A smile disappeared from Derek’s face as he realized either they had forgotten each other’s names from the drinking they have been doing or they haven’t actually told one another. “Derek,” he introduced himself as he jumped over the couch, holding out his hand. Grabbing a hold of the man’s hand, Meredith had a smile on her lips. “Derek, right. Meredith.” Derek looked at the woman as they shook hands after them introducing themselves. “Meredith?” he asked, repeating her name. “Yeah.” Meredith said to the man as the two of them shared a smile as they continued to shake each other hands. “Nice meeting you.” the man said to the Meredith as a smile continue to appear on his face. Letting go of the man’s hand, Meredith decided to turn around and started to run upstairs. “Goodbye, Derek!” the woman said loudly enough for him to hear.

[mattyrambles]

sunday - 8:25am

It’s a Sunday morning - Matty and Penelope’s house. A drifting aroma of burnt toast. Before George is even half-way down the stairs he can hear a soundly annoyed Matty. 

“Juniper Amelia Healy, how many times - I’ve told you in this house we live in a democracy! You share the cereal with your - what no! You share everything with your sister… and with George’s kid… I don’t really care about Hann’s you don’t have to with them, Ross’ might try fight you but I reckon you could take..- I’m joking, I’m joking Juni.. don’t tell your mum I said that..”

George is greeted by the scene of Matty - waving a Cheerios box around mid-rant. One George - and the three kids sat around the kitchen table are all well familiar with at this stage. Democracy. Leave it to Matty to replace Barney’s golden rule of ‘sharing is caring’ with ‘democratic household’.

Penelope and Kelsey gone away for the weekend - Kelsey’s sisters wedding approaching, a hen party. And naturally George had ended up at Matty and Penelope’s with Killian. A weekend of full on domestiness. And yes it’s been years but it still baffles him a bit to see Matty with kids. 

Last night - after the kids were asleep, Matty, George and Allen on the sofas watching reruns of The Office - George hadn’t been able to not take the piss of Matty’s heightened domestically, especially the fact he was falling asleep before 10pm on a Saturday night. Once a time of predrinks, deciding what songs they would play backstage, a name for their band for the night. 

Now he was muttering over how being a single parent for the weekend was exhausting - dramatic, predictable, Matty. Under a heap of blankets, cups of tea. Arguing his point in a sputtered manner when George called him out on it, insisting that it wasn’t that bad. 

“S’because boys are easier than girls, I don’t care what anyone says - Kill’s a fucking well saint compared to my two gremlins.” 

A statement George can’t really disagree with - but he thinks that’s just bound to be in his son’s nature, him and Kelsey were a quite a bit more quiet, reserved that Matty and Pen - equally as loud and brash as each other. Juniper and Lux didn’t really have a chance in that personality trait, he reckons. 

But all the same - although he doesn’t see Matty and Pen having another kid, he couldn’t quite imagine Matty with a son at this stage. George recalls earlier thinking that Matty wouldn’t even know how to react if he had a boy, watching - hair ties between his teeth while he braided Juniper’s hair before bed, Lux standing on the sofa behind him, demanding it was her turn next while trying to mimic his actions with Juniper’s hair on his.

“Yeah, love to see what Posh and Becks would call their son,” - teasing sort of lithe. Something Ross had started when they announced Lux’s name. Although they both denied the pretentious - and Matty still insisted and swore Juniper’s name had not  been inspired by a gin bottle. 

Lux - originated in Penelope’s garage, what seemed like centuries, universes away now. She went through a phase of painting - skylines, different times of the day.Lux.All the phases of lux in the world existed between the walls of her garage at some point. And they had always been Matty’s favourite. 

“Shut up, George.” - a huff, “at least we don’t call our kids after celebrities we want to fucking shag. Next it will be Orlando, or fucking Leo. Actually.. Leo’s a good one, I wouldn’t mind that. You should tell her I like that.” 

A retort George no longer bothered correcting. Matty - insisting Killian was after Cillian Murphy, after Kelsey had said he was well fit a few times. She had wanted something different - but not in a Penelope, Matty way. And George had suggested because Kelsey was a celtic name, and because she was Irish somewhere along the line. Eventually landing on Killian.

And George couldn’t stop the tired smile - noting the two toddlers baffled expressions. Lux, two and a half, futile attempts of repeating ‘democracy’ after her dad, and Killian, just gone three, fork dripping milk and cereal hovering in mid air. And then Juniper, six now, a bowl of overflowing Cheerios sat in front of her, looking up at Matty with a look George knew all too well. Despite the fact she was every inch of Matty - she had the deep indigo of Penelope’s eyes, and the look she was giving Matty now was reminiscent of Penelope’s classic - ‘I have no idea what you’re on about/doing, Matthew.’ 

But that slips when she spots George - a matty-esque grin and a shout of “G-tree!” 

Something Pen and Matty had her calling him since she could all but speak. Something George had gradually warmed to. 

Juniper’s exclamation leading to a chorus of shouts - a buzzed mantra of ‘tree’ from Lux, and ‘dad’s’ from Killian, and a hushed ‘oh thank fuck,’ from Matty. 

“Morning kiddos,” - sitting down, ruffling Killian’s hair while replacing his fork with a spoon, “they usually work better, buddy.”

Glancing up at Matty, a taunting smirk - “What’s for breakfast, honey?”

For a second he’s certain that Matty is going to bash him over the head with the Cheerios box. 

Until Juniper slides her overflowing bowl towards him - Cheerios spilling, Allen licking up the few that hit the floor from his habitual sanctuary under the table. 

“We’re a democratic household,” she offers him.Sending Lux spiraling back into her attempts at repeating the word. “And that’s the only thing Dad can make without burning it.”

Matty scoffs. Juniper smiles up at him, another expression George knows like the back of his hand - a replication of Matty’s smirk when he knows all too well that he’s winding someone up.

And he knows it too - a chuckle surpassing his lips, “alright, I’ll give you that, you little rat.” Maybe taken as inspiration from an old t-shirt of his she has over pajama bottoms. Stop Glorifying Rats. 

Something George vaguely remembers Matty bringing it out during the run up to some election a good few years back. Not really at all surprised to see it on Juniper now. Knowing that one of her favourite ways to spend an afternoon was to rummage through long forgotten pieces of clothes that had been thrown to the back of Matty and Pen’s wardrobe over the years. Her second favourite afternoon activity was then to force pieces of said clothing on Allen. 

“Anyway - now that our personal tree chef is up, tell him what we all want for breakie, Luxie,” - bring George to glance over at the toddler while Juniper thrust a spoonful of Cheerios in his mouth, Matty shoving his feet into Gucci slippers. 

“Pancakes!” Is the gleeful, yet demanding exclamation that sounds from her lips. A wide grin - and while Juniper was every bar of Matty, Lux held more a resemblance of Penelope. 

“Pancakes!” another shout - Killian. 

“Pancakes!” Juniper - echoing. 

“Pancakes!” Matty finishes, a half-yawn, hand dragging through curls. 

George - a chuckle, knowing he didn’t really have a choice, his pancakes had become a bit of a specialty among the kids. It wasn’t unusual for Matty and Penelope to bring the girls over for breakfast - although the first time it had happened George had sudden existential crisis over how fucking domestic they all were now. And was it really that long ago that mornings with the three of them  eating breakfast habitually didn’t start until noon and consisted of hangover remedies in form of tequlia and breakfast rolls?

“Thanks gtree, baby,” - Matty, when he stands up, pulling out pans and ingredients. George only scoffs - “Don’t think I don’t keep track of these breakfasts, all adding up to your babysitting hours you owe me.” 

Enticing an eyeroll from him - motioning to the kids, while he picks up a pack of cigarettes, ducking out the back door. Not before George notes that they’re his fags, drawing a mirror eyeroll from him - a predictability, Matty.

And maybe it’s then that he realises - not that much has really changed. 

[whyneaboutwine]

Californiwhyning

Easter always brings with it the best things in life... wine, lamb and chocolate. This Easter I was fortunate enough to head to Baja California in Mexico, a place called Los Cabos (made up of 4 different capes 2 of which I managed to visit). My visit to Los Cabos followed a crazy week in Mexico City, where I finally managed to add Mexican wine to my list of wine country conquests. A little red Cab Sav which is apparently widely available, but well personal experience showed to not be quite so widely available. For a country that makes wine, it is surprisingly difficult to locate ANY let alone a good Mexican wine. Of course this was also the case in Baja California but that did not stop a wine freak like me from enjoying wine, even if it has to come in the form of an import from Chile named something like Altaveres - but after 3 extra large glasses, who really cares, it went doen the hatch and was properly enjoyed. Most importantly, this little red went very well with all my tacos! As I've said before - wine goes with everything - even that delicious national Mexican dish. So having seen more cactuses than I care to count I had to try tequila so and tried different types of tequila (some of which was definitely made "ta kill ya") So when the tequlia trolley rolled up and I got to try an artesan aka “homemade” mezcal. I decided that this is my thing. Home made tequila is definitely the way to go. Now I just need to work out how to grow my blue agave bush... wait 10yrs, learn to cook the agave bulb and ... oh yes, buy a distillery .... get a French/American oak barrel to store my juice for 5 yrs and a cellar .... gosh ... suddenly that aged Don Julio isn't looking so expensive after all. So back to Easter, wine, lamb and chocolate. As Easter 2017 draws to a close and reality bites, it's fair to summarise this Easter as a fun, sun filled wine, taco and tequila adventure in the hot Californian desert.

[imagine-always-and-forever]

Flutterings & Tequila -- Part 5

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: you’ve decided to go clubbing with your best friend the last summer before college starts to take your mind off of the Mikaelsons who have invaded your life this summer. Specifically, you’re trying to distract yourself from Niklaus Mikaelson and the flutterings he has caused you. Tequlia is your friend tonight.

Part Summary: the aftermath of your night out is a lot more concerning now the tequila is out your system

Warnings: typical stuff you’d see in the show

Word count: 3,445

Authors note: the long awaited for and asked after Part 5! Sorry for the delay. Long story short I was sick and then very busy. Unfortunetly, I hadn’t gotten the chance to write a part ahead to have ready to release. Anyway, thank you so much for the support and I hope you enjoy this part! See you next time for part 6!

Part 1  |   Part 2  | Part 3  | Part 4

An intrusive beam of light hit your face, right in your eyes, and woke you up abruptly. You frowned and squinted up at the window beside your bed. The sun had found the slither of an opening between the curtains to shine through and rudely awake you. You turned onto your back and huffed as you flung your arms over your eyes.

The events from last night drifted into focus and you groaned. There was a reason you didn’t drink that much. Sure, you were just being yourself and the alcohol took the edge off and allowed you to do that, but you didn’t exactly want the Mikaelsons to see that. Klaus especially. And how unlucky could you be that the Mikaelsons were there of all places on that night? Every damn day they disappeared for hours on end and then again at night. Was that where they were going? Here you were thinking they were going off and conducting murderous business when instead they were partying it up.

You frowned again when you recalled Klaus’s words. What sort of business could they have at a club? It wasn’t the quietest place to have a conversation with someone and far too many people to commit full-blown murder.

The buzzing of your phone on your bedside table was pleasantly painless. Oh, right. Vampire blood. Picking it up, you saw a text from your best friend.

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT

Shit. You had a lot of explaining to do. There was no easy way to do this so you sent her a text asking her to come over and that you’d make her breakfast.

With that you got up and ready for the day, all the while trying to figure out how to explain that this all existed. You went through a million different explanations and dismissed them all by the time you got into the kitchen.

As you began pouring the pancake batter for the next plate of pancakes, you had yet to settle on how to even start the conversation. Your mind was lost in thoughts of worst-case reactions she could have to it all when the doorbell rang.

Opening the door in your sweatpants and t-shirt, you saw your best friend standing in similar attire outside, her hair even thrown into a messy bun like yours. Clearly, she had just gotten the basics taken care of and rushed over to get her answers. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest as she glared at you.

“Talk,” she ordered as she walked into the house. You closed the door gently. Your worst-case reactions might not have been bad enough. “I don’t hear an explanation yet,” she said as you walked over to the kitchen.

You best friend was sitting at the breakfast nook, watching you with anger. You sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. As you slid a plate with pancakes over to her and placed a cup of coffee down in front of her. She didn’t bother saying thank you.

“I’m sorry,” you said because that was the only thing you could think of. Truly, it was the biggest thing you had to say. You were sorry. You were sorry for lying to her, for keeping things from her, for putting her in that situation that could have gone so badly so quickly, and for involving her with the Mikaelsons and this world now.

Your best friend said nothing, though the apology must have done something as she conceded to sipping her coffee.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you told her honestly. You plated one of your pancakes and poured out another. As you watched the pancake cook, the only sound the occasional sip of coffee from behind you, you wondered if you’d ruined your friendship. You should have just been honest from the start. Closing your eyes, you decided to do something that would probably piss Josie off and might come back to bite you in the ass. “Ask me all your questions,” you said.

“What?” your best friend frowned.

“All and any of the questions you have and any that may come up. Ask me them. I won’t hold anything back and I won’t lie to you anymore.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

Your best friend thought for a while and as you plated the last pancake, she took a breath. You froze, waiting for the questions to start.

“Come sit down.” You did. Your best friend looked you in the eyes, her pancakes still untouched. “I know you’re a witch,” she stated and you nodded. “Can you do what they did? Are they witches too?”

You shook your head and swallowed. “They’re –“ you cut yourself off with a groan.

“So who are they? What are they?”

Why was this so hard? It felt impossible. How could you explain thousands of years of history? Taking a breath, you looked up at your best friend. Right. You were just going to answer her questions. Anything she didn’t ask and needed to know you’d add in at the end.

“The people who you met last night are known as the Original Family. They’re vampires.”

“Witches and vampires exist?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“Werewolves, for starters,” you said.

“You’re just a witch though, right? You aren’t going to go all hairy and try to eat me or suck my blood, right?”

You laughed. “No. I’m just a witch. You already know that you have to be born a witch. Well, you have to be born a werewolf as well and they don’t actually look like they do in Hollywood. They turn into actual wolves.” Your friend stared at you. “You get turned into a vampire by consuming their blood and being killed. Then you have to drink human blood to complete the transition. It’s impossible to be a witch and a vampire. It’s unnatural. Although, people can be hybrids. Like Klaus.

“And werewolves and vampires have special heightened abilities and senses. Like healing, hearing, sight, and strength. Vampires can compel other non-vampires. A werewolf bite is a death sentence to a vampire. You can kill a werewolf pretty much the same way as a human. They heal fast, but breaking their neck or ripping their heart out or whatever will do the trick. And vampires can only be killed by ripping their heart out or impaling their heart with something wooden. There is also stuff called wolfsbane and vervain. It’s like toxic to them. Wolfsbane for werewolves and vervain for vampires. If you ingest vervain you can’t be compelled. I’ve, uh, sort of been slipping into your drinks all summer.”

You looked up from where your eyes had drifted to your plate of cooling pancakes to see your best friend staring at you.  Oh. So much for not dumping it on her all in one go. Though, she seemed fine. In fact, she was taking it rather-

Your best friend fainted and fell onto the ground.

After calling out her name and jumping to your feet, you knelt down to see if she was okay. She was out cold. Using your magic, you moved her to the couch and sat beside her. It took four minutes before she woke back up. She blinked awake and you held her hand.

“Are you okay?”

“You have vampires as friends,” she said in reply.

“Technically they’re my house guests and I wouldn’t really call us friends.”

“Oh my god,” your best friend said and you feared she might pass out again. “Are they dangerous?”

“Yes,” you said because you promised you wouldn’t lie to her. “But I promise you that I won’t let them hurt you. I don’t think they would. Actually, I think they rather liked you.”

“Why did the prince one give me his blood?” Her eyes got wide. “Am I a vampire now?”

“No. Elijah was helping you. Their blood heals and they were just being nice and making sure we didn’t get alcohol poisoning or something considering how much we drank last night.”

Suddenly, your friend looked suspicious. You held your breath, waiting for her to speak. She sat up and you worried if it was okay for her to get up so soon. She walked over to the breakfast nook and sat down and started to eat her pancakes. Slowly, you joined her.

Needless to say, you were confused as to what was happening right now.

After finishing half her plate and most of her coffee, your best friend stopped. She traced the lip of her mug with her finger with a thoughtful look on her face. You swallowed the bite of pancake you had in your mouth, not really tasting it, as you watched her.

“So,” she finally said. You waited. She clicked her tongue. “That Klaus guy,” she said and your heart did a little jolt. Your best friend looked up at you and a wide, mischievous smile came to her lips as she saw your face. “I KNEW IT!” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“He’s the guy, isn’t he? He’s the one you’re in love with!”

“QUIET!” you hushed her. You weren’t sure where the Mikaelsons were at the moment. They tended to get up early but then again who knows if they even came home at all? “Heightened hearing, remember?” you glared at her.

“Oh my god, are they upstairs?” she asked with wide eyes.

“No. They’re in the guest house.”

“They can hear from there?”

“I don’t know but I’d rather not find out!”

Suddenly, a big smile was on her face. Oh god. What?

“You have a date.”

You stared. Oh god. You had a date.

Immediately you shook your head. No. You didn’t. That would be ridiculous. He was just saying stuff. Why would Klaus Mikaelson ask you of all people on a date? It just didn’t make any sense. Your eyes went wide.

“What?” your best friend asked around a mouthful of pancakes. She had certainly found her appetite again.

“I told Klaus about the flutterings.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “For the last time, Y/N, they’re feelings. You have feelings for him.”

You shushed her again and waited, straining your ears to see if you could hear anything. Nobody seemed to be planning on charging into the room and yelling ‘aha!’ or anything so you relaxed. Slightly.

“He asked you on a date and you told him you have feelings for him,” your best friend recapped for you. “I don’t see the problem.”

How did she NOT see the problem? You told Klaus that you liked him. That he made you feel all… all… fluttery! AND you got drunk and lost your filter in front of him. He looked at you like you were a different person. They all did!

Besides, you couldn’t go on a date with Klaus. You just couldn’t. First of all, Josie would never allow it. Second of all, it was Klaus! There was so much to unpack in that sentence that you didn’t even know where to begin. Granted, you hadn’t explained just who they really were and she couldn’t really understand the magnitude of the situation. But still! This was huge!

“So, what are you going to wear?” she asked you before downing the remains of her coffee.

You stared at her.

She laughed at your expression. Pushing your coffee towards you she grinned brightly. “Better drink up. We have a long and busy day before your date.”

Frowning, you took hold of your cup and narrowed your eyes at her. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve not been on a date since…” she trailed off as she thought. The answer was a long while and you both knew it. She just sent you a look. “I hate to say it, but you’ve gone lax,” she sighed.

“What does that mean?”

She pointed at you with her fork.  “You’re in serious need of a manicure and your skin is crying out for exfoliation.” You rubbed at your cheek, wondering if you could really see skin that hadn’t seen a good face mask for a while. “Today is going to be our spa day. You’ll get waxed, washed, relaxed, and primped for your date.”

“I am not going on a date with Klaus!” you huffed.

“Fine. Then for the next time you see him.”

You laughed at that. As if that was predictable. Whatever was going on with his family was keeping them mighty busy. Not to mention it had their schedules making no sense at all. Some nights you heard them coming back at four in the morning and others leaving for a few hours at six at night. You’d be lucky if you managed to get a glimpse of Klaus.

Wait. No. Not lucky. Seeing Klaus would not be lucky because there was no need for you to see him. You did not want to see him. You had no reason to want to see him.

“At least agree to the spa day for my sake,” you best friend sighed. “You did put me in danger by having me hanging out drunk all night in a club while underage with a bunch of dangerous old vampires.”

She didn’t know the half of it.

“Fine,” you conceded.

A girl’s day would at least give you time to figure out what to do the next time you did see Klaus. Not to mention you might be able to crack open a bottle of wine while you relaxed since you had no hangover to get over. It might let you forget about last night.

It had been a surprisingly relaxing day. Your best friend never once brought up Klaus and your definitely-not-happening-date. You managed to answer more of her questions while you did each other’s nails and mixed crazy DIY facemasks in your kitchen. You ate lunch in a plush bathrobe as you both let your feet soak during your pedicure and you followed it up with chatting some more in the sun outside while eating an ice cream. You were even helping your best friend die her hair in your bathroom. It was not something you’d planned and you were pretty sure the box of bright pink hair dye was expired as you’d bought it in the sixth grade.

Covered in pink hair dye and laughing as you attempted to wash the last of the hair dye out of your best friends hair, the doorbell went. Your best friend was bent in half over the bath, a towel over her upper body and stained beyond salvaging. She turned her head towards the sound and the water from the shower head you held hit her face and bounced off, causing you and the bathroom to get drenched. You best friend laughed loudly as you turned the water off, pink streaks covering her face as the hair dye ran into the bath.

“You, jerk! You did that on purpose,” you accused with a laugh.

“No, but god I wish I did! You’re soaked!” she laughed as you stepped back and grabbed a towel to dry off your skin.

The doorbell went again.

“Better go answer it,” you sighed. You eyed her up and noted the still dripping dye getting everywhere. “Stay there!” you ordered. You didn’t need a trail of hot pink through the house. Josie would only be so forgiving.

“Yes, mam,” your friend joked and shook her head, making the water go everywhere.

You rushed out of the room before you were drenched again. Laughing, you ran down the stairs and to the front door. You hoped whoever it was would forgive the state you were in. Sweatpants stained with paint and a wet t-shirt that wasn’t much better off. From a glance at the mirror in the front hall, you thought you might give them a fright. Pink hair dye had gotten on your hands, arms, neck, face, and basically everywhere else on your body. Your hair was thrown in a messy bun, still wet from the scalp exfoliation you’d been doing before the hair dye was discovered.

Reaching for the door, you smiled readily for the person, who was probably delivering a package. Josie often got the new books for the store delivered home during the summer, as she knew you’d be here to help organize and price them for her.

“Hi, sorry. I’m a bit of a mess right now,” you said as you opened the door, still grinning wide from the fun you were having.

“Not a problem, Love,” Klaus answered and you froze on the spot.

Klaus stood with his hands behind his back in his usual Henley and jeans. He eyed you up with a look of amusement and you felt yourself blush. Great. Of all the times for him to come looking for Josie. Klaus smiled at you, his eyes sparkling and you tried not to die from embarrassment right there and then.

“Josie isn’t here right now,” you said, trying to keep your voice strong.  Klaus looked a little confused for a second. “She had something to do this morning and she said she won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Oh, I know. I was the one that sent her on her little trip,” Klaus said casually.

You blinked. You hadn’t known that. Of course, you knew she was helping the Mikaelsons, but you hadn’t known she was going on trips for them. You eyed close suspiciously.

“I’m here to inquire about our date,” Klaus said with a cocky smile on his face. You stared at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. He continued on, finding amusement in all of this. “You said an art museum would be preferable, so I’ve found a rather good one not too far away. Shall I come by to pick you up around four?”

You just kept staring.

“Y/N?” Klaus called, looking at you expectantly.

“Um,” you managed to get out as your brain just kept spitting out a does not compute message to you.

“She’ll see you then!” your best friend called from upstairs and you spun around at the sound.

“Y/BF/N!” you yelled up at her as she dashed back into the bathroom.

“Lovely,” Klaus chirped. “I’ll see you then,” he promised and gave you one last look, which you just didn’t understand, and left.

You closed the door slowly, still a little unsure of what just happened. One thing you did know was it wasn’t you that answered. You glared at the top of the stairs and bolted up them.

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY THERE,” you yelled as you ran to the bathroom. Your best friend was innocently towel drying her newly dyed hair as you came in. You glared at her. “What was that?”

“I was doing my duty as your best friend and wingman.” She frowned. “Woman. Wingwoman.”

“For the last time, I don’t need a summer romance!”

She sent you a blank look in return.

“And I don’t need you setting me up on dates! ESPECIALLY NOT WITH KLAUS MIKAELSON!”

“I didn’t! He already asked you last night –“

“You were barely awake at the time,” you cut her off to point out.

“– and you’re in love with him anyway so I was just helping my best friend out, and agreeing because you so obviously have to go on this date,” she continued as if you hadn’t spoken.

You glared harder. “I am not in love with him.”

She didn’t bother responding to that.

“And I don’t want to go on any dates or have a summer romance! I keep telling you!”

She sighed as if she was dealing with a dense toddler. “Y/N,” she said and walked over to you. She took your hands in hers and looked you seriously in the eyes. “This is not about some fun summer fling anymore.” She squeezed your hands and gave you an encouraging, heartfelt smile. “This is much bigger than that. You like him. I mean, you really like him. And I think he likes you, too.” You froze again but she carried on. “This is something more. I can feel it. And we know how good my intuition is,” she reminded you.

One time she gets the two of you to go to the other café in your small town than the usual one you go to and you get free drinks and she thinks she’s got powers. One time. You’re the witch here and you are sure that this is going to end disastrously. If not for the simple fact that you just aren’t good on dates.

“Now, let’s get you ready. You’ve only got an hour.”

[bedfordrambles]

2:33AM

Matty can’t really believe what he’s hearing, or seeing. Yes - he knows George can have a temper, a kind of sudden rage that escalates quickly but deflates just as fast. He knows, he’s the same - which is why they knock heads from time to time, but all in all brings them closer, a common ground.

Tonight - it’s different. It’s not the typical tour bus wind up’s, the annoyance when their manager messes something up, frustrations when some part of a song, new project won’t come out the way it is in his head. 

Tonight it’s something new. Tonight it’s because of his girlfriend.

Something Matty very quickly learns when George arrives home, their shared flat, well after midnight and you’re nowhere to be seen.

Confusion, surprise - when he asks where you are, more out of habit than actual concern. Knowing - you and George were inseparable when they had a break from tour or rather a break from touring in other countries. Albeit - when he catches George’s eye, all but stalking past him towards his room, he knows something’s happened. 

Hints of rage, ferocity - a tension. Fingers - his arm, asking him what had happened.  

“Will you for once stay fucking out of my shit, Matty.” 

It’s a harsh sound - through thin lips and clenched teeth. And usually - he wouldn’t push it, but usually George told him everything. That’s what they did. Symbiotic at best.

Matty - a sigh, but managing to keep his patience. You and George had never fought much, not that Matty had witnessed anyhow, so this was new. Disquietude - replacing silence when he asks again. Matty - uneasy when George doesn’t answer, eyes fixed on some spot on the floor. But - he knows, it can’t have been anything that bad, detrimental, and he suspects you’re gone off to your own flat, or a mates.

Quiet - only the buzz of a cat video Matty had been watching, cars passing somewhere outside, window left open. 

Deciding - to try and coax it out of him, thinking back to tour, if he had said anything. Sudden - remembering George’s distaste of some bloke, close friend of yours, a lot of pictures, a lot of mentioning him to George when you called. And Matty had tried his best to tell him to come off it when he voiced concerns over the friendship. Telling him the last thing he wanted to do was become a possessive dick.  

But - he also knew George had insecurities when it came to you, not taking long for jealousy to root, deep. 

Matty, borderline hesitate - asking if it was because of him, your friend. When there’s still no answer, Matty groans, knowing. He told him not to, warned him not to. 

“Mate, you didn’t..”

“I didn’t mean to! I - it just happened so quick, we were on the way home, talking, I asked about him and it was just messing about at first then she told me to piss off then, I dunno - I lost it, I guess. Said she could find her own way home.” 

A rush - words tumbling, Matty finding it hard to keep up, comprehend. He could have already guessed, put together that there had been an argument of some sort. The last of the confession is what catches his attention, causes him to blink and stare, gauging. 

Brown - fleeting glances, not meeting Matty’s. Guilt - spreading, covering up the earlier remains of irritation. 

“You left her?” 

Silence - and he starts biting his nails. A tell tale sign. Matty isn’t quite sure what to feel now, his own recreation of events, sympathy for his best friend dissipating.

“Where?”

Silence. Autoplay was on, the cat videos changing to dogs. George - eyes on the floor.

“Why? Why the fuck would you do that? Fucking hell, G.” 

A vexation building - somewhere in him. It’s half two in the morning. You and George had been coming back from visiting friends, you could be anywhere, the middle of nowhere. Unease.

Fingers - his jacket from the couch, glaring. Indignation, disbelievement. 

“And I thought I was fucked up. She’s a girl, mate, your girl, and it’s half two in the morning. How could you just kick her out and drive off?”

Fire  - fueling back up, George. Familiar - George liked to have the last word. 

“As if you’re so fucking perfect, a model boyfriend,” - gravel, a snarl. Derision. 

Virulence, words of  higher animosity clawing up his throat. Natural reflexes - to bite back, harsher. A pointless defence because he knows George is right, his track record with his girl, long ago girls of interest, was far from clean. George is mostly right in these cases, that only riles Matty up more. 

Staring - waiting, George. And Matty is faced with a choice. Stay and get in the last word, leave and help you, maybe even repair whatever damage had be done. 

You don’t look at him. Not when he pulls up beside you, not when he begs you to just get into the car, not when he offers you a cigarette and an awkward one armed hug, not when he asks if you’re alright, not when he apologises for George. 

In all honesty - Matty was the last person you had expected to venture to find you. Not that you had expected George either - you had waited long enough, just in case he might double back, regret. It was a false hope. He didn’t. 

About to call a taxi - when Matty showed up. Nearing three in the morning. 

It’s quiet - comfortable, warm. The only sounds - the radio, low, Matty humming along. The Velvet Underground. Quick glances - eyes on the road, hair pulled back, only illuminated by car lights, passing, a yawn. Shadows - flickering over features. 

You think this is the softest, calmest you’ve ever seen him. Habitually - brash, loud, bouncing off the walls. A change. He hadn’t spoken - not since you had snapped at him, telling him this was bollocks, you were more than capable of finding your own way home. Something that was only met with a soft sound - your name, and an ‘alright, love.’ 

Part of you - itching, to tell him. To vent before you imploded. But - you didn’t know where he stood on the matter, what George had told him. So - you leave it on a loop inside your head instead. Not really able to find the words. 

Outskirts of town - and you jump a bit, pulled from thoughts, Matty. A nearing McDonald’s, and he asks if it’s okay if he stops for a bit, telling you his eating habits are still a bit all over the place from tour. 

A nod - you’re more humoured by the fact he actually asked, opposed to just doing. Typical Matty. 

Fast food - lingering in the air, spreading over the familiar sent of cigarettes, worn out leather of the seats, the car. Car park. The Velvet Underground, drowned out to Pinback, Penelope. 

Burgers, shared chips, chicken nuggets - admitting he’d overdone it a bit. Quiet - you don’t think you’ve ever witness him be this quiet for so long, that wasn’t Matty. Eyes catching - every now and then, small smiles, timid. 

The unfortunate event - eyes on your phone, misjudging a chip to mouth, sauce smearing. A chuckle - fingers reaching over, swiping over skin, your nose. Emerald - glinting, lips curling around his cigarette. 

“Alright?” - and you nod, a barely audible, “yeah”

Mirroring - your nod, turning back to the window, rolled down, smoke curling. 

“Matty,” eyes flickering back to you, questioning. "Why did you come?"

A smile - cigarette to his lips, a shrug. "Just figured you'd need a lift back, I'm not a complete arsehole, y'know? Unlike like your boyfriend." 

He doesn't miss the sudden tension when he says that, mentions George. And the tinge of vulnerability when you ask,

“What did he tell you?” 

Flashes - earlier, George driving, growing louder and louder. Over something stupid, idiotic, irrational. A close friend, one you had since uni. Who also just happened to be male, and you suppose a bit attractive. While the boys were away, you had been spending more time with him. Something George obviously didn’t like. Irrational. 

Annoyance, growing - spiraling into rage, insults, hurtful comments. Ones you knew he didn’t really mean, and you held your patience, trying to say sorry, trying to comfort him and tell him the whole idea was ridiculous.  But he told you, demanded not to touch him. And maybe when he said you that you’d been a shit girlfriend lately - something snapped. Louder, harsher. 

A sigh - truthful, “Not all that much. I know George is my best mate - but that doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s a right twat at times, and whatever happened, I’m not taking sides. But I do think you both need to sort it out, soon.” 

About to protest - he holds up a finger, starting the car.

“I don’t mean tonight, go home and have a kip first, then when you’re both not so emotional. Don’t worry about it though, he’ll realise what a prick he’s being, he likes having you around too much to fuck it up over something stupid. I’ll talk to him, I’m quite fond of you too, innit? We have some great nights out.”

A smirk, eyes flickering. You shake your head - remembering one of the first nights, striving to impress, matching Matty on tequlia, only to end up puking all over him on the way home. An entertained sound - despite yourself, telling him to shut up.

Cigarette smoke, his smile - illuminated by car lights, overhead glow of street lamps. And you and him had never been that close - accusing you of stealing George from him for the most part. 

But tonight - maybe for the first time, you kind of want to keep him around.