#disaster caroline strikes again

[loriane-elmuerto]

—something something sentence Thursday

Got tagged by @dihardys and @indorilnerevarine to share a WIP I'm working on, thank you! Surprise surprise, it's not cod, it's jjba, in honour of stone ocean ending today (guys I'm so not ready you cannot believe)

Gonna tag @chuckhansen, @queennymeria, @countessrooster, @lucky-107, @cryptcombat, @florbelles, @unholymilf, @jendoe, @jennystahl, @shellibisshe, @cobb-vanthss, @heroofpenamstan, @cptcassian, @jackiesarch, @risingsh0t, @roofgeese, and @prometheas, only if you want to! ❤️

Putting this under a read more <3

Caroline doesn't know how long she has been on her feet, her hands never once leaving her husband's chest. Not even the long hours of the hospital that have trained her can keep her up for much more, but the sheer fucking will that has been instilled in her screams that if she moves away for even a moment, she will lose Jotaro for good.

Golden Saint, always the realist, keeps reminding her that Caroline is only exhausting her own life force for nothing, that all they can do now is wait, but Caroline can't wait. Apparently, she's been sitting and waiting for disaster to strike for almost twenty years now, which, in her own humble opinion, is just insulting.

Twenty years. That's how long their friends knew that Dio was alive, and nobody had said anything to her. As if she was a precious fucking porcelain doll that would break at the mere touch. Twenty years of silence had now destroyed the family she had worked so hard to create and maintain, the family she sacrificed her own dreams for. Her firstborn daughter, the girl that had endured too much for such a young age, now in prison for a crime she did not commit. The man she saved time and again, the one who always put his life on the line to protect her, now dead in her arms. Their youngest boy, only ten years old, but already exposed to old horrors that follow their family like a shadow, hidden away in Avdol's care, all alone on the other side of world.

Oh, how she wishes that she was still 29 years old, sitting with Jotaro on the front porch of his old home, watching Jolyne play with little Sherry as the sun was setting behind the children's backs. Where they were still happy, still in love—

"You're losing focus, Caroline." Saint's voice never failed to bring her back to reality. The Stand with the plague doctor mask was standing on the opposite side of Jotaro's bed, plague doctor mask in hand. Caroline hated at that particular moment that her and Saint had the same face.

Her throat was still raw from screaming and crying over her losses. "What do you want me to do? Pace around the room like a caged animal, driving myself insane as I watch my husband's body rots with each passing minute?" The mere thought forced her to press her palms down even harder, continuing the healing process.

"What you're doing is feeling sorry for yourself over the current situation. Your mourning the future, a future which won't even happen. You're focusing only on here and now, which, by the way, is slowly killing us both."

"You don't—"

"Shut up and listen already. You and I both know that Rejuvenation will not work, he needs both of the disks back. So focus on that. You, standing here, wasting your life? That's exactly what Pucci and Dio want. Do you want to give them the fucking satisfaction? Do you want Jotaro to wake up to your smiling face, or do you want him and the kids to find out you drained yourself to the point of death?"

She was right. She was right.

"You're Caroline Becker. When life decides to kick you down, you don't cry and feel sorry for yourself the entire time. You get angry, and you take matters into your own hands. So get angry already, and do something about it. You left a fucking dent in that psycho vampire's chest, you can rip his head off, and we both have the means to do it."

The Arrow. Truth be told, Caroline always hoped she would not have to touch the thing again, not after what happened at Morioh, to Kira.

But Saint was right. It was time Dio and Pucci were dealt with once and for all.

Saint didn't fail to notice Caroline's hands moving away from Jotaro's chest. Nor how her back straightened, how the look in her eyes changed. The Stand merely smiled as she put the mask back on her face.

"Finally."

#oc: caroline kujo #jjba #tagged #babygirl said i've had enough time to commit some violence #she's the meme 'im a healer but'

[ao3feed-janeausten]

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'AUSTEN Jane - Works' #Jane Austen #fanfic #fanfiction

[katierosefun]

not me getting emotional over writing an email to my screenwriting instructor about thanks for this class and i’ve learned a lot and this was kinda my favorite class uh hope you have a great rest of the year and maybe great rest of your life like,,,caroline c h i l l

#caroline talks #asdfdfsd i was just like 'have a great holiday season and rest of the year!! and so on and so forth!!!!!!!!' #i just..... #me: see i dont know if you know this sir but im trying to say that i appreciate your class that is all #me: words how do i w o r d #disaster caroline strikes again #see this is the thing!! whenever someone expresses fondness or something my brain shorts out #authority figures being nice to me? i simply do not know how to react #idk i really like my screenwriting instructor #genuinely a nice dude #as well as my english professor #who is one of the most wholesome people i have EVER met #he raises fucking chickens like how does it not get more wholesome than that #and is also always like 'i wanna hear from everyone :)' and like GENUINELY just wants to hear everyone's voices #im gonna cry at the idea of not seeing some of them anymore :(((

[josefavomjaaga]

Helfert, “Joachim Murat”, Chapter 4, Part 5

We left Murat after the defeat of Tolentino and now have a look at what was going on with the other King of the Two Sicilies, the one actually sitting in Sicily, Ferdinand.

Among the motives that led Joachim to consider a speedy retreat to Naples was the impending danger from Sicily.

There were still British garrisons on the island, and Ferdinand IV himself desired it, although he was almost constantly at odds with their leaders, and especially with England's diplomatic representative. A'Court was full of complaints about him. "The foundations of the constitution," he had written to Castlereagh on January 5, 1815, "or rather I should say its rhymes, for it has never had any foundations, are being swept out of the way on all sides, and it appears as if, as soon as Naples is won again, everything will revert to a mild despotism, or else, if the court does not succeed in this, will take on a strictly aristocratic character and make the already overconfident barons fully masters of the king as well as of the people." The parliament had recently convened on October 22, 1814, and had been in session for months into 1815, constantly preoccupied with the financial question, which it had been unable to resolve satisfactorily. There had been some of the most heated exchanges; one day towards the end of January, the deputies literally got into each other's hair, so that the guards had to intervene to break them up. When the English had cancelled the King's subsidies of 400,000 pounds sterling annually, which were to be discontinued on 1 March, the matter had become so urgent that Ferdinand IV had had to resort to an extraordinary measure, which, as we remember, was taken on both sides of the Faro at times of need. By royal decree of 18 February, until the parliament had succeeded in restoring financial order, the salaries of all civil servants and officers due at the end of the month had been suspended, which not only exposed the majority of those initially affected to bitter shortages and worries, but in its further consequences also had a terrible effect on public safety; hardly a night went by in Palermo without houses being broken into, the inhabitants robbed, everything that could be carried away stolen, so that all better-off families were in constant fear of their lives. But all these sufferings and worries now took a back seat to the greater events taking place on the mainland, which were bound to change the situation on the island.

On April 29th, an alliance treaty was concluded in Vienna between Austria, with the accession of Russia and Prussia on the one hand, and the Court of Palermo on the other, by virtue of which the latter, represented by Prince Leopold and Commander Ruffo, undertook to put 30,000 men into the field and to bear all the costs of the campaign. In the second article, the conditions were expressed under which Ferdinand was to take over the government of Naples again: no investigation and persecution, recognition of the sale of state property, guarantee of public debt, keeping the new (Buonapartist) nobility on an equal footing with the old, and generally maintaining all the honours, promotions and pensions conferred by the previous governments. On the evening of May 4, the Prince and the Minister departed from Vienna, and from that moment there was no longer a "King Joachim", no longer a "Queen Caroline", but only a "Mme Murat", a "Marshal Murat", of whom Castlereagh said in the British Parliament that he owed his fall only to the ambiguity of his attitude: "if his sentiments could have been relied upon, he would not have been deprived of his crown". In Bianchi's main quarters, in accordance with the instructions received from Vienna, the royal title was still maintained; only Lord Burghersh, following the example of his compatriot Bentinck, did not allow himself to be deprived of speaking of anything other than "Marshal Murat", even in official dispatches.

On April 30, the day after the Treaty of Vienna, of which Palermo was of course not yet aware, the king announced his imminent departure for Naples in a solemn parliamentary session and demanded the necessary means, which the Estates willingly provided. To his Neapolitans, however, Ferdinand issued a manifesto, dated May 1st, which his supporters were to smuggle in and distribute in both Calabria and the other provinces as well as in the capital. Mistakes that had been made were deplored without any intention of punishing them; peace and harmony, general forgiveness and forgetting, the retention of all civil servants and officers in their ranks were promised; laws were envisaged that would serve as a basis for future state institutions and as a guarantee of civil liberties. Ferdinand did not wish to wait for the final outcome of the war before preparing to sail to Naples; he decided to go to Messina for the time being in order to be closer to the development of events.

A British fleet of 20 warships of various sizes under Admiral Bellew sailed in the Tyrrhenian Sea and kept an eye on the coasts of the mainland.

In Naples, after the first unfavourable news had arrived in April, extensive precautions had been taken to put the capital and Capua in a state of defence, especially Gaëta, where a whole suburb was razed, all the inhabitants who did not know how to provide themselves with food for months were expelled from the city, and the government palace was prepared to receive the royal family. But all these measures, initiated with strength and prudence under the rule of the regent, could no longer help a cause which made the rampant licentiousness in the ranks of the army appear to be already lost.

On May 4, after the second day of the battle of Tolentino, the general retreat of the royals had begun, more sinister than the previous defeat. The Carafa brigade disobeyed its commander and the soldiers ran in groups towards the Neapolitan frontier. General Lecchi had to report to the king that he was no longer able to keep his soldiers in obedience; the situation was no better with the legion of the wounded d'Ambrosio; Carascosa alone led his "legion" back in good order. The closer they came to the borders of their homeland, the more numerous the deserters became. The onset of severe frost, "not like in the Italian spring but like in the gruesome winter of Switzerland", as Colletta puts it, plus heavy rain that drove all the water over the banks and thus caused stagnation in the columns, were as much occasions as cloaks for the desertion. With bitter sorrow, the king saw such a beautiful army, his pride and his joy, disappear before his eyes, dissolve into its components; his otherwise cheerful countenance, smiling happily for everyone approaching, was now darkened by heavy grief and large tears streamed from his eyes down his cheeks. It was at the passage over the Tronto, at the border of his kingdom, which he was to cross again as a defeated man, where the word "abdicate" was spoken before him for the first time. In the first surge of his anger he wanted to strike down with his own hand the general d'Aquine, who had hitherto always played the humble servant; but he restrained himself and merely relieved him of the command which he had not held with great glory. The king, for his own part, even in this ignominious retreat, often performed miracles of valour. General Colletta relates an instance in which the king, who was brave to the last moment and the last in the train, helped with his own hand to barricade a road at the entrance of which a detachment of Austrian cavalry was charging and firing. But Joachim could not be everywhere, and where he was not, there was nothing but disaster. The imperials made one capture after another. At Lanciano, 23 cannons, 10 howitzers, 20 ammunition carts and their crew fell into their hands. Manhès, who was only strong when he was raging, abandoned his position at the Garigliano, the important border river, on 6 May, without having seen anything of the enemy, so that the Queen relieved him of his command and persuaded the Minister of War to take his place in the field. On May 10, Joachim was in Bopoli, on the 11th he held a review of his troops; he still had 14,000 men with 16 guns. But already the apostasy in the provinces began to spread, which also had an effect on the ranks of the army. In those days, an appeal arrived from Isernia from the sub-intendant Milizia, in which the soldiers were called upon to abandon Murat's cause. When the king heard of this he exclaimed painfully, "And I, who have done nothing but good to this man!" He made a last attempt to retain the loyalty of his people and sent the General and State Councillor Colletta to the capital, where, together with Minister Zurlo, he was to draft the outlines of a constitutional charter; but Joachim urged them not to be too generous with the concessions to the people.

#joachim murat #caroline murat #naples #naples1815 #ferdinand de bourbon #napoleon #helfert murat #italy1815

[elejahfanfic]

Fanfiction

And so it is Christmas

Part 4

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

ft. Klaroline, Kennett

AU story_human_no vampires

a/n:There  will be great mad Mikaelson chaos and lots of love… i.e. Elijah falling for Y/N...cookie baking, etc.

well, actually_absolute christmas fluff... ho-ho-ho

_also this just blew into such a long ch again_ thanks for reading. xoxo

🎁

Mikaelson Mansion

Days after

Kol ventured in the dining room, with a big smile on his face, "I will see you there in an hour and so ready to make cookies with you"

As he hung up, both Klaus and Elijah shot a look at their younger brother with a teasing smirk on their faces.

"What?" Kol said looking at his brothers ready to kind of snap at them if they make a comment.

"You will make cookies - I need to see this" Klaus said.

"Like you have made any before" Kol shot back at his brother.

"Dozens" Klaus put a smirk on, "being domestic is a way into the woman's heart- at least at the beginning"

"You are kidding me right?! The only one that knows how to make anything is Elijah"

"I can only make scrambled eggs." Elijah said, "He is pulling your leg- and he is talking loads of rubbish- don't listen to him."

"Never have done and never will." Kol said, "I never needed your advice to get a woman to love me."

"Did he say love" Klaus chuckled cocking his eyebrow up.

Elijah now shook his head looking at Klaus signalling to stop now. Klaus knew that love as such was a sensitive subject when Kol was concerned as he had lost his girlfriend six years ago. He let it go now, getting up from the breakfast table and went to see where his daughter was, as they were also roped into baking cookies.

"How are things with Bonnie now?" Elijah asked.

"Great. We are back together and your advice was the best ever." Kol replied.

"Good. I am glad." Elijah said and took a sip of coffee, continuing, "so, you are going over to her house to bake the cookies I gather?"

"No. Her friend Y/N’s house. She needs help because she also doing sweet potatoe pies."

"Sweet potatoe pies?" Elijah said raising an eyebrow with special interest.

"Apparently she makes the best sweet potatoe  pies - and she promised to do so for the school board stall,"  Kol explained, "isn't this like your favourite pie?!"

"It is." Elijah said.

"Come with me then. I am sure you will get a slice." Kol looked at his brother and remembering his conversation from yesterday wondered why he had brought Caroline with him, since they just had broken up.

"Did you make up?"

"No. It was Rebekah, who had invited her before she found out we broke up, and it was kind of awkward to tell her that she can't come. But I am ok with it. Like I told you - we were more friends that actually - we were never really together." Elijah explained again.

"Right. So, are you coming with me?"

"Yes. I have a few things to discuss with Dr Y/L/N about the fundraising." Elijah replied. "Isn't Klaus going over there?"

"Why?" Kol looked puzzled at the question.

"Aren't Klaus and Y/L/N - seeing one another?"

"Seeing? Oh, you mean if they are still hooking up?"

"Yes- are they - hooking up?" Elijah said looking at Kol, now exhibiting obvious signs of embarrassment, as he was no accustomed to use this kind of language.

"No." Kol replied.

"No?" Elijah repeated.

"Ah! You're into Y/N!" Kol put two and two together and now put a little smirk on.

"I am not." Elijah found himself kind of in a strange pickle.

"Come on! It's like written all over your face! Hey it's totally ok. But you know that she kind of is going through like a tough break up- and the thing with Klaus was a drunken thing."

Elijah was amazed how Rebekah and Kol always were so updated on all rumours, gossip within the family and as well as out of it. He knew of  Y/L's messy break up. Now trying to get out of the subject, he got up and said that he was going to change and that he will see him in front of the house.

🤶🎅

In the Y/N’s House

Y/N and Bonnie finished their breakfast, and were now getting ready preparing everything to start baking.

"I will put some decoration I bought yesterday up." Y/N got a few of the decorative cookies out.

🎄 Not long after, Elijah and Kol arrived. Y/N had a bit of a  wide-eyed reaction seeing Elijah offering to help with the baking.

"Well, we always welcome an extra pair of hands" Y/N said. "Ok. we need to star because we have to make about 100 cookies at least. And I need to bake a few pies as well."

"Tell us what to do?"  Elijah now took his jacket off and pulled his sleeves up.

Y/N explained what each of them needed to do. And soon they set off with the baking.

Both Kol and Elijah realized that these two women were very industrious and organized.

After they put the first batch to be done, they all had a little break.

"What is this list? " Kol now picked up the paper that fell from the counter and started reading.

"The Christmas to do list-"

Bonnie and Y/N both now rolled their eyes saying nearly in the same voice, "Oh, God, don't read that- we had too much mulled wine last night when we wrote this"

But Kol was not to be stopped and started- making remarked as he went along.

1. Making a snowman together - no snow this year unfortunately- well not yet. Maybe by the time it's actually Christmas we got to do it. Ok-

2.Drinking hot chocolate (bonus: whipped cream moustache) - totally can do that. Right now. Next-

3.Decorating the Christmas tree - first need to buy a tree.

4. Christmas shopping in a decorated city - how about we all go to New Orleans - Bourbon St is so amazing with all the deco, right, Elijah?"

Elijah nodded agreeing.

" Ok, what have you got next-

5. Ugly Christmas sweaters - oh, I dare you to buy Elijah one of the sweaters and make him wear it for the Fundraiser"

Elijah shot a look at his brother that was saying - stop right now!

"Number six - oh, yes, definitely this needs to be done and plenty

Mistletoe kisses!

Where is the Mistletoe?"  Kol looked around.

"I haven't put it up yet." Y/N said.

"It's there by the mantelpiece."  Bonnie said."I brought it yesterday. It needs a ribbon. Do you have a ribbon?"

"It's in the bag on my desk." Y/N replied.

Bonnie now went to get it, and as she returned, Kol was the one putting it up at the hallway.

Y/N looked at Elijah, who looked back at the brunette shaking with his head and shrugging with his shoulder, making a face which said - that's my brother. Y/N smiled a little back at the man now saying, "He is great."

Having come down from the chair, putting it aside, he now took Bonnie by the hand and dragged her cutely to him under mistletoe and kissed her.

"Oh, the cookies!" Y/N said somewhat alarmingly and went to the kitchen like a storm. "Ah, saved in the last minute -Ouch! Damn!"

Putting the tray away, Y/N looked at the burn on hand.

"Is it bad?" Elijah asked as he went up to her.

"I will live." Y/N said checking the little red strip on the side of the hand, now putting it under cold water running. "I am really too clumsy sometimes."

She made a face of hurt as the burnt skin was tingling.

"This maybe was not such a good idea."

"I will be ok. This is nothing. It just burns a bit." Y/N got an antibiotic ointment out from the first aid cabinet , "Can you open it for me"

Elijah nodded and went over to Y/N, applying the ointment on her hand.

"Ok- now can you please open the non-adhesive bandage."

Elijah did as instructed and put it over the burn.

"Great. Thank you." Y/N said.

"You're welcome." Elijah said back now looking at Y/N somewhat sheepishly.

"You make a great nurse." Y/N joked a little. Elijah smiled back, "If I need to I will think of a change of career."

"But for now you will have to be my baking assistant, because I can't decorate the cookies now with my left hand."

"No problem. I am great at that, too."

Kol and Bonnie now were back in the kitchen. As they saw Y/N's bandage, they asked what had happened.

"Just a little accident." Y/N said. "you know me- I can preform a heart surgery, but went it comes to getting a baking tray out of the oven- disaster strikes."

"Ok- we will now finish off here," Bonnie said, "you have a break."

Bonnie, as organized as always, soon had both Kol and Elijah organized. It was a great assembly line. Kol was rolling out the dough and Elijah was  pressing the cookies with a cutter.

Y/N and Bonnie were then decorating it and they proved to be a great team finishing the cookies in no time.

"These will be so good," Bonnie was happy with the end product, "they looks so professional."

"Now, there is only a few sweet potatoe pies. I thought of doing the vegan, too." Y/N said.

"Great idea." Bonnie welcomed the suggestion.

And soon they were on the pie baking phase, which saw Elijah now doing the pie crust.

"This is not that difficult" Elijah said, finding it actually really great to do something like that for the first time in his life.

Kol, of course couldn't help himself to muck about and he now had to get some sweet potato pie filling on her nose and her  side of her. "Stop this." Bonnie protested with a little smile.

"I don't know how it got there-" Kol joked.

"Oh, really" Bonnie said.

Kol's  phone went and it was Klaus, asking how their baking was going. Kol now put them all on video chat and soon they were all exchanging what phase they were in and what progress they made. Rebekah proudly presented her sweet potatoe bars and Caroline her pristine snowman  cookies.

"They look so good!" Y/N said gushingly.

"We got tones. Mother is killing it with the Christmas star cookies." Rebekah said, "and Hope has helped me with the bars- Klaus and Stefan are so slacking."

"I knew it. Elijah and I have actually done everything from scratch" Kol said.

Rebekah now snickered not believing what she was hearing.

"I will prove it to you when I get home." Kol said.

"You made actual cookies?!" Rebekah now said, "this I got to see."

"And you will!" Kol shot back.

Elijah knew that this conversation between Rebekah and Kol was going to escalate and he now cut in, "Dr Y/L/N burnt her hand- so we had to cut in- and we have learned a lot today."

"They did." Bonnie confirmed. "Ok- we will be heading out soon. Meet you at the Historical Society building?"

Esther said that they would also soon be there. As the video chat finished, Y/N and Bonnie put the cookies in boxes, as Kol and Elijah had a drink of well deserved beer on the porch.

"Kol, can you help me with the boxes?" Bonnie now asked her boyfriend as she came out to the porch.

"Sure" Kol said and followed her into the house.

As they got all the boxes and went up to the car, Kol now turned to Bonnie, "I think we should leave them alone."

"But I promised that I will return to help her with a few more pies."

"I think that Elijah can do that." Kol said.

"Do you know something I don't?" Bonnie asked.

"He is like so into her. And I totally think that she is into my brother, too."

"Isn't he with - Caroline?" Bonnie asked looking at Kol surprised to hear that.

"They broke up." Kol said.

"Oh?" Bonnie exclaimed.

"Yeah."

"But I don't think Y/N will go for Elijah"

"Why not?"

"Because she is on rebound. Last night we talked about her not wanting to really date anyone." Bonnie said.

"What did this guy do?"

"Well, nothing really. They were just in this toxic relationship and she just got tired trying to make things work." Bonnie explained.

"She is really a great woman. How did she end up with a guy like that?"

"Sometimes you fall for the wrong guy and you think that your love can change him. I want her to find love - real love. A guy who will listen to her, and let her make her decisions and respect them- not lash out if things are not going his way- you know what I mean-ok- enough about Damon. We got to go"

"Yeah- ok"

They both got into their respective cars and drove off.

🎅 Inside, Elijah now picked up the list and read the last several points

7. Going ice skating  

8.Giving each other presents on Christmas morning

9.Slow dancing in the living room surrounded by all the lights

10. Person A buying the gift person B always wanted to have

11. Do Karaoke Christmas Caroling together

12. Person A is dressed as Santa and takes Person B to the their private winter wonderland

Y/N now served Elijah and herself a slice of sweet potatoe pie.                  

"Oh, God - the list!" Y/N said as she now saw it in Elijah's hand.

"It's a great list. Haven't done any of it for years. Especially ice skating. Never did Karaoke Christmas Carolling"

"Really? That is like the best mad thing we have come up with - back in High School," Y/N said, "definitely need to do this."

"You can perform open heart surgery, bake -sing?"

"I can't sing. I can do a great lip sync," Y/N said, "try the pie."

Elijah now took a bite of the pie and he was full of compliments. "This is really good. And it is vegan!"

"Yes. So good, right?!" Y/N said.

"The traditional sweet potatoe pie is my favourite pie"

"I know." Y/N now slipped cutting him in the middle of the sentence.

"You do?" Elijah looked at Y/N puzzled.

"Klaus said."

"Ah, he did- what else did he say?"

"That's about it." Y/N replied.

Suddenly there was an awkward kind of a silence move in on them. Both were eating the pie, both now trying to get what it was going on inside them. Feelings were stirred. Feelings they didn't know existed.

"How is your hand?" Elijah now asked.

"It's ok.Tingling just a tiny little bit."

He looked at her. She looked at him. Her stomach was strangely churning,  "More pie?"

’No, thank you.‘ was what he wanted to say, but said  this instead, "yes, please."

Y/N got up and went to cut another slice.  As she was at the counter, she looked at him sneakily. He moved her like no one else did. She couldn't explain to herself how everything inside her was so rustled up. She now thought of the movie she and Bonnie had watched last night. It was so true, what Bonnie had said. He is Mr Darcy, but the Colin Firth kind of Mr Darcy. The Bridged Jones Mr Darcy. OMG, Y/N what is happening to you. Pulling herself together a bit, she now went back to the table with another slice of the pie.

"Can we talk about the Fundraiser? I thought about your idea and I accept your suggestion that we should get a professional to get things moving."

"Ah, great. And like I told you, you needn't worry about the money. I will provide it."

"Why are you doing all this?- I mean, I know your mom is doing a lot of charity work- but- don't get me wrong- I really appreciate all your effort. Without you we would only get a bit of money for some medical supplies and medication- now we are talking getting a Medical centre up "

Elijah could not lie. It was not in his nature, and he was now very open and blunt-

"It's because of you."

-to be continued-

🎄🤶🎄🎅

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #bonnie bennett #kol mikaelson #kennett #rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals fanfiction #the originals #the originals christmas #fanfiction

[queenofthedramedies]

Legacies Opinions 3x11: You're Not a Monster...Probably...

Hello, my lovely readers! Sorry about the delay in this week's epi.

Let's dive into the monster-y goodness, shall we?

This week was not a good week for our heroes--unless you count the couple who just made canon: Kleo, or Cleleb.

We saw the return of Dark Jo, because no one else showed up to draw straws and appear as Jo's consciousness. Ah! So, should we be worried for Jo because it looks like she might have to merge with her Big, Bad, alter ego, or do we applaud her for embracing her entire self?

Honestly, I think it's important to acknowledge your entire being, because the more you try to bury something, the more likely it is to crawl back up, and bite you, sometimes literally. So, good for Jo to find her self-acceptance.

People who are still trying to figure who they are in the grand scheme of things: Jed, Jed, and mainly Jed. Poor guy can not seem to catch a break after being inspired by Cleo. In the last epi., Jed tried to be helpful, and failed, miserably. Under other circumstances this might make Jed fall into the clutches of a super villian, or become a super villian, due to a lack of appreciation. And then he would at least be given a real storyline.

Speaking of storylines that we may not know, for sure, where they are going: Let's talk about MG and Lizzie. Mizzie. They have been a side ship for some time now. First, MG was smitten with Lizzie, to the point of not being able to find some self-respect. Now, Lizzie has come to terms with being in love with our little ray of sunshine, but unable to voice her desire for her friend. Love is frightening. The possibility of rejection--even if you're almost positive you won't be--can be devastating.

Personally, I hope that Mizzie's will-they-wont-they will be resolved by the end of the season. Of course, if they finally get together, tragedy will no doubt strike, because screwing with the fans is inevitable. With hope, they will make it through whatever disaster befalls them.

Speaking of disaster, we have two MG-related ones in this epi. First, as predicted, Ethan tried to play cop, by himself, and nearly got himself killed, again. This leaves MG in an awkward position: Will MG end up having to confess to Alaric that he did not compel Ethan, and put a human at risk? Will MG end up having to turn Ethan, and can MG handle the consequences of that responsibility? Time for Caroline Forbes to show up and help MG with that. Okay! Wishful thinking.

MG's second problem was Finch. Once you capture a werewolf; what do you do with them? Lizzie tried to provide some answers on that front, pushing to find out how Finch turned, and whether she made a mistake keeping Finch and Jo apart.

After some insults are exchanged between these two strong females; Finch allows Liz and MG to take a head-dive into her memories. This turns out to be a mistake, for Finch, who finds herself coming face-to-face with a childhood trauma and leaving Mizzie with guilt coupons, for years to come. While Finch has her memories compelled away--with one exception: to remind herself to not trust anyone--I suspect MG and Lizzie would also like to wipe their memories of Finch's trauma, too.

In lighter news, Kaleb was still trying to woo Cleo, and finds success when he lays his soul bare to her; so to speak. And it looks like honesty might trigger Cleo's gift. Maybe. Not sure. However, Kaleb hinted at how he was turned, and we need that origin story, yesterday!

We also saw a bit more of Wade. Our fave fairy spent the epi. aiding Jo, and Landon, as they tried to deal with Hope who managed to get herself turned into a monster. Oh, what sharp teeth you have, Hope, and big, scary eyes. Everyone, run!

Well, I pretty much gave away Hope's storyline. Off she went to screw over The Necromancer, to find he'd been eaten. Ew! But I suspect he'll be back. And Hope got herself bit, tried to eat Landon, or take him to Malivore. I'm not clear on that one.

Speaking of Landon, Wade outed Landon's status as being shady. Or: There's something off about Landon. And if you like the character of Landon; you probably already knew that. He's just been a little too-good-to-be-true since he came back. We might get answers on Thursday. Hopefully. Pun intended.

Before we sat good-bye until the next post: Does anyone else suspect we will see Ryan Clark in something other than a flashback? And does he have answers to what the new device is. Also, will we see historical figures as monsters next season? So many to choose from.

Be safe,

-J

#hope miikaelson #landon kirby #josie saltzman #lizzie saltzman #milton greasley #finch tarrayo #legacies wade #legacies jed #ethan fell #cleo sowande #kaleb hawkins #handon #jonch #clebeb

[histoireettralala]

Joachim Murat: his youth in Quercy.

His steps often joined those of Napoleon. Born 250 years ago in Labastide, Marshal of France, the king of Naples remained, all his life, attached to his native land. His native village now bears his name: Labastide-Murat.

Published on August 29, 17 at 16:05, in ActuLot

Joachim Murat en uniforme de sous-lieutenant au 12e Régiment de Chasseurs en 1792 (Age 25), by Jean-Baptiste Paulin Guérin, 1835

His name will later be inscribed on the Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile. On April 5, 1791, three young people from Quercy (Murat, Bessieres and Ambert), appointed by the Lot Directory to be part of the King's constitutional guard, whose creation has just been voted by the Legislative Assembly, take the road to Paris. Coming from a family of small social status, Murat will reach the highest military glory thanks to the Republican wars and the prestigious imperial epic.

He was born on a causse with unexplored abysses

Joachim Murat was born on March 25, 1767, at La Bastide-Fortunière, a village in the Causse de Gramat. This physical environment has a certain connection with the future King of Naples' life and character. “La Bastide, a small village on the high plateau, looks like a fortress commanding the country. This majestic appearance amidst the drought, the almost desolation of the limestone soil which unexplored abysses hollow out in some places is the very image of Murat's life, a life full of contrasts where the good and the worst intertwine, where the peak honors and glory are next to disasters, mentions Marcel Dupont in his work on Murat. The sometimes violent wind is still a striking image of the marshal's mind, always filled with clouds and where hopes, vast projects, fury and annihilation collide day and night. Here is summarized in a few strokes, the prodigious and fatal destiny of this horseman who would have no equal to descend like a windstorm on the enemy troops.

His mother Jeanne's favorite child

Yet he seemed destined for a peaceful existence. Murat comes from a family that has lived in the town for more than three centuries. They are hard-working peasants, exploiting poor soil in harsh winters. How could a king arise from this modest environment more conducive to the development of country virtues than to warlike exploits?

This required the ardor of his youth, which will never leave him, but also the revolutionary upheaval. His father exploited the lands of "a few enlightened minds" in the village. Not being the owner, he is the manager, receiving earnings proportional to the crops. These are certainly satisfactory because the couple have a large house in the center of the town. This is the mother’s domain. The ground floor has been converted into an inn and the floor is divided between the family apartment and a few rooms for passing guests. This energetic woman who runs the inn is a caring mother. The good Jeanne Loubières, whom he will adore all his life, in fact, makes of the youngest of her eleven children, her favorite. By her constant presence, her desire to provide Joachim with an education, that goes beyond that of his environment, she will shape this son to the point that he will never forget his childhood.

With his curly hair and cheerful face, he's a rowdy kid, sometimes a brawler, as it should be to be respected in this country where endurance is proof of character. His time at La Bastide-Fortunière school made a good impression on his teachers: he is an average student but whose qualities of camaraderie and friendliness are recognized. His loving mother, who has deep religious feelings, thinks that the day will come when young Joachim will enter the Orders and may be parish priest of La Bastide.

His great pleasure is to lead alone the horses to the village trough. At the age when a horse seems formidable to a child, Joachim, who has an unusual vigor, already knows how to subdue them.

An amazing ability to lead

These predispositions did not arouse any suspicion among his parents who obtained a scholarship to send him, at 10 years old, to the Saint-Michel college in Cahors. He will stay there for 8 years. It is there that he will have as a comrade Jean Bessières from Prayssac, a future Marshal of the Empire. An unwavering friendship is born between these two men who would become close to the emperor.

Far from La Bastide, the young Murat discovers unknown horizons which open up new appetites for him. His intelligence is real. But as soon as he crosses the threshold of the class, he takes a singular ascendancy on his comrades, even develops an astonishing capacity to lead. How to blame him? If he goes too far for his age, he knows how to repent, implore and become very sweet again.

His whole life, he will use these weapons. Many contemporaries believe that he is completely sincere. Going from anger to tenderness, from elation to dejection, he is already and will remain, impulsive, even excessive in everything. Not without kindness and generosity.

At 20, he joins the cavalry

At the age of eighteen, he joins the Lazarists' seminar in Toulouse. But wearing the cassock does not make the seminarian. And this handsome young man of 1.85 meters, with a pleasant smile, already leads, outside the establishment, a private life the "good fathers" ignore. Here comes an important moment in Murat's life: his military engagement. It is allowed to think, with Jean Tulard, that after a quarrel, our too fiery seminarian was excluded from the University and dreading his father, takes advantage of the passage of the Cavalry of the Ardennes regiment to sign up for, he says "a life that does not displease him". In fact, the new Chasseur is "thrilled". He quickly stood out for his ability to train the most reticent horses and quickly became sergeant*.

For the simple rider, the days are repetitive and gruelling. After an early awakening (at six o'clock), you must groom sick animals, currycomb and brush them before preparing fodder, water and oats. It is only after this daily work, at ten o'clock that a soup is distributed. Then the upkeep chores of the stables. Strict rules still from the Ancien Régime! Because already Parisian ideas are swarming in the garrisons.

Giving free rein to his temperament, his need to be a leader, Murat, who places a lot of hope in the new ideas, takes the lead of the discontented men of the Regiment. This behavior is little appreciated by his leaders: he is put on permanent leave and expelled from the army. Humiliated, he decides to go back to the Lot. We are in 1789.

Delivery Clerk in Saint-Céré

Very badly received by his father who cuts him off, he returns to Saint-Céré where he is hired as a delivery clerk. For a few months, he was enraged, champing at the bit with impatience, convinced that his place is not here. The villages are buzzing. He became aware of the real state of France, of the mounting demands of the campaigns. Murat takes advantage of this return to his native land to attend and participate in public meetings of local clubs.

The past winter has been harsh and long. The harvest was poor. Lack of food and unemployment strike everywhere. Castles see their dovecote burned down. " Here will be hanged the first inhabitant who will pay the rent to the lord," says a poster from a Cahors merchant. It’s the revolt. Louis XVI summons the Etats Généraux on May 1, 1789 in Versailles. In 1790, for the Fête de la Fédération on July 14, each department must appoint two to three delegates. You can imagine that Murat is volunteering! The sympathetic, sweet talking but proud young man speaks. And it is in Lotois dialect that he expresses himself in cafes, wishing to reach the greatest number. The Revolution is born: Joachim Murat, who is part of the Third Estate by his origins, tries to change public opinion according to events. Every Sunday, he goes to Cahors: he listens, he harangues the crowd. He is on the Montfaucon list and is chosen to represent the Lot department.

The republican patriot leaves for Paris

Murat, 23, can go and explore the capital. It’s the consecration.

A new man is born. After a secular mass celebrated by former Bishop Talleyrand, speeches on the Champ de Mars ignite the crowds. One hundred thousand Parisians came to celebrate the first anniversary of the Capture of the Bastille. A year later, returning to the army, he is appointed to the King's Constitutional Guard, to protect but also to monitor Louis XVI. Indignant, the protester manifests a flawless patriotic commitment, calling himself a "pronounced republican", facing "this hideout of royalists who gravitate around the king". But the wind turns, Robespierre falls. His revolutionary passion almost interrupted his meteoric career. Bitter and worried, he is put on leave and returns for some time to Quercy, "wanting to become a simple plowman again".

Aide de camp

Skeptical about his future, then dejected, Murat quickly reacts, helped by the deputy for Gourdon, Jean-Baptiste Cavaignac, who encourages him to return to Paris. It is on the night of 12 to 13 Vendémiaire (October 5, 1795) that Murat is put in contact with the First Consul who needs him. He orders him to save the Convention threatened by the royalist riot. Forty cannons are placed by Squadron Leader Murat around the Tuileries Castle. Three hundred royalists will be killed. The government of the Republic is saved again. As Tulard points out: "From now on the star of Murat will merge with that of Bonaparte". No more depression, finally power and glory.

Promoted Bonaparte's aide-de-camp, he leaves for the Italian Campaign, direction Marengo. There, "his clothes will be riddled with bullets", but they will know victory.

He becomes Napoleon I's brother-in-law

In 1800, he marries Caroline, the First Consul's youngest sister, becoming the brother-in-law of the future Napoleon I. This marriage will give Murat an outstanding position among the marshals of the Empire. Quickly, he is invited to move to the Château des Tuileries and becomes part of the close entourage of the new master of France.

The rouser of men from the imperial epic will remain kind to his family at La Bastide. Coming from a small inn in Quercy to fly with his squadrons across Europe and into Egypt, Murat seems like a legendary character. Chateaubriand will devote long passages to him in the "Mémoires d'Outre Tombe". He will be admired by Stendhal, Dumas and Balzac. Three words characterize the King of Naples: ardor, ambition and panache. If he remains the most magnificent rouser of men the imperial epic will produce, he will invest much into the Lot whose deputy he will become in 1803.

And he will show kindness for his whole family. Especially for his mother, for whom he will show a deep attachment: he sends her rosaries blessed by the Pope.

The portrait he has done of Jeanne in 1792 will never leave him. It will be with him, in his homes, in his tent during his campaigns and in Naples, in his palace. He will build a castle for his "La Bastide family" in his native village, modeled on the Palais de l'Elysée, where he had resided as governor of Paris.

The King of Naples dies executed on October 13, 1815.

By André Décup

[Translation is mine.

Note: I translated by ‘sergeant’ the grade of Maréchal des Logis, which is its equivalent in the cavalry (and nowadays in the Gendarmerie).

There is no right translation for “entraîneur d’hommes”, I hope “rouser” doesn’t seem too weird in English.]

#napoleonic #joachim murat #newsletters articles #2017 #anyway i love him

[gemsofthegalaxy]

Juno Steel and Second Citadel separately for the ask game thing

TuT Thank you for sending this in, it was very fun and actually made me think hard a few times LOL. 

Juno Steel 

(pls note that the favourite character questions are, like, enforcing a sex binary which is kinda uncool. just know Juno is my fav character but he is nonbinary so the questions dont apply) 

my favorite female character -  RITA!!!!!! I love Rita so much. 

my favorite male character - Peter Nureyev, naturally. 

my favorite book/season/etc - I think season 1, Juno was a disaster but I miss his POV and Season 2 was really good but Peter wasn’t around? Idk. Maybe it is season 2 tho because season 2 was really good. Damn.  

my favorite episode (if its a tv show) - Oh God I don’t know the names of any eps umm........ hmm.... The last episode of season 1 even tho it broke my heart? OR the last episode of season 2, like, when Rita was saving everyone and Juno couldn’t remember her name- it also broke my heart but I loveeddddd how much it meant for Juno’s relationship with Rita (and also had Nureyev striking that fucking pose on the Ruby 7 which made it all worth it) 

my favorite cast member - this is hard. I gotta say Juno’s VA though because I fucking love Juno and he’s really talented okay 

my favorite ship - Jupeter ffhh is that even a question 

a character I’d die defending - I’m prob gonna have to die defending NUREYEV the punk ass bitch. but I love him so. 

a character I just can’t sympathize with - i was about to be like “none theyre all great” but then I remembered RAMSES that BITCH. i mean on the one hand, I come close to sympathizing because i understand where he comes from but the VIOLATIONS of Juno’s autonomy and trust are just too egregious. 

a character I grew to love - Vespa. I was like in love with her bc of Buddy and then we met her and i was like Hmmmmm but then i was like actually i love her again, during her ep 

my notp - Uhhhhhh I really don’t know? There’s no ship that I’ve come across that i was like “fuck no”, i mean, im sure there’s possibilities of terrible ships but I’ve not come across them. 

Second Citadel

how about we do that thing where you give me a show/movie/fandom and I’ll tell you:

my favorite female character - Rilla. I loveeeeee Rillaaaaaaaaaaaa. 

my favorite male character - Damien :hearteyes: 

my favorite book/season/etc - Um season 2 because there were only like 2 eps in Season 1, and they didn’t feature Damien or Rilla. i havent caught up with s3 yet sghkjk

my favorite episode (if its a tv show) - hhhhhh. Um. The first one where we are introduced to Damien and Rilla, and Damien meets Arum. and also the part of the finale that was centered on Damien exclusively. Shout Out to whatever episode it is that Rilla’s on Monster Trial and she’s like “I accidentally fell in love with your Weapons Creator who is a Lizard and I would like to Kiss His Mouth” 

my favorite cast member - Um.... I don’t know? They’re all very good actors. 

my favorite ship - Damien/Rilla/Arum but I would die for Quanyii and Caroline 

a character I’d die defending - I don’t know why I’d need to, but, Damien. 

a character I just can’t sympathize with - hm............ Queen Mirra? Like, the Second Citadel has some REALLY fucked up ideologies and I’m sure they pre-date her, but, well, she’s obviously inherently complacent in that at best and she could be doing a Lot more to, yknow, have the Citadel be a less hostile place for, uh, Gays. and also monsters, though, I wouldn’t hold my breath on that much. 

a character I grew to love - HMM. Okay, so, on the One Hand, I’d say I loved Caroline instantly but she TESTS ME EVERY DAY, so I’m just gonna talk about her for a second. especially when it comes to Rilla, Caroline makes me Mad. I am still pissed off at how she just........ forced Rilla to walk on a broken leg for days and showed her so little sympathy for, like, no reason!! “oh you’re a traitor to the crown” like whatever, that’s not even close to a good enough excuse for how she acted towards Rilla. She’s also a huge hypocrite. But still, I loved her as soon as we met her and I still do.   

my notp - I haven’t really seen many things being shipped for this, either, tbh. I have been avoiding the tags because I’m still not caught up, lol. So as of now I have none!

Ask game post 

#tpp #juno steel #second citadel #answered #long post #gayasfridge

[tachyonpub]

Booksellers and librarians get the award winning Nancy Kress’ SEA CHANGE

Review copies of Nancy Kress’ SEA CHANGE are now available EDELWEISS and NETGALLEY.

“SEA CHANGE is like liquid nitrogen ice cream—a chilling treat.” —Greg Bear, author of Eon and Take Back the Sky

New from the Nebula Award winning author of Beggars in Spain: A riveting climate-change technothriller of espionage, conspiracy, and stakes so high they could lead to the destruction of humanity itself. In this environmental page-turner, activist lawyer Renata Black—covert member of the Org—must go deep underground to unravel the truth behind the ecological disaster that has paralyzed the food industry and destroyed her family.

“A strong, striking look at a a possible future, and the courage that will allow us to survive it.” — Laura Anne Gilman, author of Heart of Briar and Soul of Fire

Operative Renata Black has a serious problem—a self-driving house causing a traffic snarl. When Renata spots the Org’s Tiffany Teal paint marking a windowsill, she discovers a dangerous mystery within the house itself.

In 2022, GMOs were banned after a bio-pharmed drug caused the Catastrophe: worldwide economic collapse, agricultural standstill, and personal tragedy for a lawyer and her son. Ten years later, Renata,   a.k.a. Caroline Denton, is a member of the Org, an underground group of scientists, functioning in splinter cells that are hunted by the feds. But the Org’s illegal food-research might hold the key to rebuilding the worlds’ food supply.

Now there’s a mole in the Org, and Black is the only one who can find out who it is. At risk: the possibility of a second, even more devastating climate collapse. For answers, Black will need to go all the way to her Quinault Nation legal clients, to reveal environmental dangers—and solutions—that the world has not been willing to face.

Nancy Kress, one of our finest speculative writers, once again delivers a smart, mesmerizing, and surprisingly nuanced look at the ecological, technological, and political shifts we cannot afford to avoid.

For more info about SEA CHANGE, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover by Elizabeth Story

#sea change #nancy kress #edelweiss #netgalley #elizabeth story

[harryandmolly]

like the back of my hand - 2018 (part one)

Summary: a relationship within a collection of moments

Warnings: language, sexual references

Word count: 10.6k (ish)

July 4, 2018

The first time he sees her she looks like the drunken reality version of a fairy tale.

She’s wrangling a truly enormous golden dragon pool float with a wingspan of about 10 feet, reaching from the edge of the pool to try to drag it closer. He notices her hair first. A sweeping wave of reddish gold falls over her fair, heat-pinked skin. By the noises she’s making, he knows she’s frustrated. Her curtain of hair is too thick to see through. She’s short and strong – he can see the tone in her arm muscles as she reaches and holds her balance with dancer-like precision. Her legs are striking, too, thick and white and sculpted. Before she even turns around, he hears the words in his head.

Oh, fuck.

And then she does turn around and seats herself delicately on the back of the dragon, taking her bottle of Stella Artois Cidre with her for the ride. She kicks off the side with little pink toes and makes a jokingly strained face as she paddles out beside a petite blonde sitting nervously on a float shaped like a rosé bottle. His heart rattles when she laughs at something the rosé girl said. Her whole body convulses with it. She’s probably a little drunk, but she looks so alive. Her full lips drop open and a cackle rolls out. She clasps at her chest and holds her drink away to avoid disaster. When she calms down, she seems to feel his eyes. She looks over. He waits for a shock of recognition on her face. He feels his heart stumble yet again when she smiles politely, a ghost of curiosity in her gaze. She might recognize him vaguely but she doesn’t know who he is.

He isn’t the tortured “I just want to be normal” artist. He really doesn’t mind that every woman he meets these days knows him, his face, his music, parts of his story. He gets off on the rock star aspects sometimes. But this time, this girl, something makes him react differently. He’s enamored. Every new little thing he notices in that span of ten seconds he spends staring at her makes him want to giggle.

His friend has to grab at his arm to get his attention. With only a few pre-gamed beers in him, he’s able to refocus. He meets his friend’s friend Casey, a twenty-something lesbian feature film producer who lives in the host house with five roommates. Casey has big white teeth, short cropped hair and a thick southern accent. She’s friendly and tells him she likes his music, especially “Lost in Japan.” He thanks her graciously and compliments the house.

“It’s a little crazy, honestly. All of us can’t believe we get to live here. Where are my other roommates? Uh…. I think Emily’s inside with the weed. Caroline’s over there,” she points to an outdoor sectional next to a set of glass doors, “Sammi and Lilly are in the pool—”

He doesn’t hear anything else when he sees who she pointed to. Dragon girl and her smaller, frecklier rosé friend have locked arms to keep from floating away as they discuss something that looks important, if not just interesting. He doesn’t know which one is Sammi and which is Lilly but he needs to find out.

In the pool, she’s listening to Sammi tell a story about paying her brother and his friend in tequila and wine to move her into their current house. She looks up at the back of the tall curly-haired guy that walked in. She can feel celebrity on him. He didn’t roll up with an entourage or make any kind of entrance, though. He looks very normal, but too hot in that “he’s definitely famous” sort of way. She can’t place him, though. She scrolls through her mental rolodex of things she enjoys that were meant for a youth audience, given that he looks younger than her – Disney Channel shows from when she nannied? Old Teen Wolf guest star?

“Sam,” she hisses, nodding in his direction, “Is he… somebody recognizable?”

Sammi looks over her shoulder and clocks him. She turns her head back, blue eyes wide under curly lashes, looking genuinely shocked. “That’s Shawn Mendes.”

“Oh! Right! He did that sad song from the new Fast and the Furious movie?”

“No,” Sammi laughs, “That’s Charlie Puth. Shawn Mendes did “Stitches” and “Mercy” and stuff like that.”

“Oh!” she cries again, slapping the water with a flat palm, “Yes! I love “Stitches.” Shit, I should be talking quieter. I guess Casey knows him.”

“I think Casey knows the guy with him, I think he was here at the Memorial Day party.”

“God, look at us with our A-listers at our house,” Lilly hums, looking impressed with them. Sammi matches her expression and wiggles her eyebrows.

“He’s young, though, right? Like 17?” Lilly continues, eyeing him cautiously.

“I think he’s older than that,” Sammi murmurs as their floats drift closer to where Shawn and Casey and company stand.

“I hope so,” Lilly whispers. Sammi snorts a laugh and kicks at her float. Lilly kicks back and Sammi squeals, clinging to the edge to keep from unseating her bottle. The noise catches Casey’s attention.

“Guys, these are two of my roommates, Sammi and Lilly. Ladies, my friend Greg and his friend Shawn.”

“Hi,” Sammi laughs, weakly reaching up a hand while she stays close to the edge for support. Lilly giggles as she watches them shake. Since she’s too far from them to make contact, she waves.

She wants to slide off the dragon and hide underwater when he smiles at her. His cheeks are a little flushed, perhaps from the heat or the alcohol. He has the slightest divot in his chin. His hair has just enough product in it to look really cool. He’s tall, too, over six feet, she guesses. Too bad he’s a teenager.

She floats closer to the edge of the pool and reaches a foot out to hold onto the stone, her legs separating a bit as she does. He has a question or a comment ready to engage them but loses it entirely.

“You wanna get in?” Greg prompts, angling his head at the pool.

“Yeah,” Shawn croaks, looking away from the legs he wants to be crushed and killed by, “Let’s get some beers.”

They stroll off to the coolers. Casey bends to reach Sammi when she sits up.

“You know Shawn Mendes?” Sammi hisses. Casey grins and bobs her head.

“I didn’t think he was coming. No, I mean, I know Greg through Kingsley. I’ve never met Shawn.”

“How old is he?” Lilly whispers. Casey shoots her a dangerous look.

“He’s 19, girl. Get in on it.”

She barks a laugh in response. “19. Please. God. The last thing I need.”

Casey, ever wise, raises an eyebrow and cocks her head. “I dunno, dude, I’m gay as they come and I can see the appeal there.”

“As can every teenage girl in this country between the ages of 13-18. I have to grow out of that sometime.”

Casey cedes, throwing up her hands and noticing another group of friends to chat with. Sammi turns the rosé bottle toward Lilly.

“I think you should, too,” she mentions, feigning casual. Lilly rolls her eyes.

“Can you imagine? God. Maybe he’d write a song about me,” Lilly teases.

Sammi opens her mouth to respond when Greg and Shawn return, beer bottles in hand, stripped down to bathing suits. Shawn, after quick consultation with Greg over the coolers, takes his shot and sits on the edge closest to Lilly.

“I like your dragon.”

She looks up at him and down at her floatation device. “Oh, thanks,” she chuckles dryly.

“The rosé floaté is cuter,” Sammi argues playfully, jumping in when she realizes Lilly is going to turn in on herself and not engage.

“I think the unicorn floating beer koozies are the cutest,” Lilly replies, using the excuse to hunt for one as a way not to look at him and feel her resolve turn to mush.

Shawn picks up the one bobbing against his leg and hands it to her with what he hopes is a smooth half-smirk. She takes it with a smile that barely resembles a smile, her eye contact with him shorter than with a passing stranger. He feels a little defeated, so he sucks down half the bottle of beer in a gulp.

Slowly, though, as he and Greg ease their way into the cool water to stand with Sammi and Lilly on their floats in the shallow end, occasionally reaching out to hold them as they threaten to drift, the dynamics shift. Lilly opens back up, much to Sammi’s delight and encouragement, and actually does crack jokes and ask questions and make prolonged eye contact, though still more with Greg than Shawn.

“So are you just in town for 4thof July or?”

Shawn doesn’t realize the question is directed only at him until he looks up and sees her big blue eyes looking straight at him.

“Oh! Uh, no. I’m here for a couple meetings. We’re planning stuff for 2019,” he says, bobbing his head casually.

“That’s intimidating. I don’t even have a plan beyond my next sip of cider. Do I get another? Do I stop? Do I lie back on this dragon and contemplate the meaning of my existence?”

He cracks up at her dry humor. “I don’t know about your existence, but I’m getting out to grab another beer. Want a refill?”

She smiles at him genuinely, her lips curling up as she tilts her head affectionately. “Yes please.”

She drops the last sip down her throat. He watches it as she swallows and feels himself do the same. His fingers brush hers as he takes the empty bottle. She pretends not to watch his back muscles pucker and flex as he lifts himself out of the pool. She also pretends not to google him while he fetches their drinks. He hopes she didn’t see the little jog-skip he does to return to her faster. She does and hopes he doesn’t see her blush in response.

They spend hours together like that in the pool, trading positions – Sammi on the dragon, Greg on the bottle, Lilly and Shawn sitting together on the edge. Shawn on the dragon, Sammi on the bottle, Greg and Lilly keeping them from floating away as they talk about anything. Sammi’s boyfriend Drew leads her away around sundown. Greg, upon realizing Sammi has a boyfriend, wanders off but encourages Shawn and Lilly to stay. His blessing doesn’t matter by that point. By hour five, Shawn had found his soul mate.

He’s enchanted to say the least. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight but damn if this wasn’t the closest to it he’s ever felt. Every shift of her body on the ledge of the pool makes his heart kick up a beat. Every time she swishes her feet in the water and comes within inches of brushing him feels electric. Every question she asks him seems like the most thoughtful, most important thing in the world. She teases him, she listens to him, she smiles at him, she confides in him. She is perfect.

She is trying so hard not to see it. He’s a 19 year old that looks 22 and she doesn’t think that is at all fair. She also hasn’t been kissed since 2014 which strikes her as more of the same. He watches her every move closely in a way that feels less predatory than boyishly fascinated. She feels beautiful and a little powerful. When he takes her hand to help her off the float and lead her out of the pool in search of burgers and hot dogs, she should’ve let go immediately. It isn’t fair to her or to him to linger, but he is becoming addictive.

She does retract her hand from his much larger one when they reach the stairs. She takes the railing instead and notices the contrast between the cool metal and his radiating masculine heat. She still feels it behind her, though, as they climb the stairs. He notices with a sigh that her hair smells like chlorine and strawberries. It’s drying into sticky chunks on her peachy back. He wants to gather it all in his hands and run his fingers through it while he sings to her.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

He shuts that thought down before it went anywhere sappier.

They eat together on the sectional outside her bedroom, wrapped up in the house’s beach towels. He has a burger, she has a hot dog. They share a bowl of chips and salsa. He asks about growing up as an only child, she asks about Toronto. After another two drinks each, he leans in closer and she lets him with the excuse that the fully set sun is reducing her visibility. He asks her about her unfinished screenplay. She asks him about what he’s writing.

He’s drunkenly convinced they are in love by the time they’re climbing the stairs with the rest of the party stragglers to reach the balcony for fireworks. He stands close behind her while they burst, watching her face more often than the actual light show. Emily dutifully shoos everyone back downstairs for the rest of the party. The palm tree twinkly lights come on now in the full darkness, giving the whole pool deck a romantic glow. He can’t help himself. He brushes his hand against hers as they walk down the stairs. He reaches out to open the gate and starts to say something about being really happy he tagged along with Greg when he feels the locking bar swing out and hit him right in the lip.

“Oh, shit,” Lilly groans as Shawn gasps and grabs his mouth. The other partygoers don’t seem to notice.

“Fuck, I did this literally twice this week alone. C’mon, I have an ice pack in my room.” She ushers him back up the stairs and down into the basement.

He’s embarrassed, but hell, he gets to see her room.

She seats him on the bed calmly and almost maternally. He looks around, poking the inside of the offending wound with his tongue and wincing. Her room is stylistically a little bare; he can tell she just moved in. She has white pillar candles in the fireplace as decoration which he thinks is cool. He likes that her bedspread is yellow.

He looks up at her sheepishly as she hands him the blue freezer pack wrapped in a paper towel.

“This thing’s been getting a workout,” she jokes, sitting beside him and watching as he brings the ice pack up to meet his reddened lip. She bites down on hers and scoots a little closer to him, her brain hazy but aware enough that she has a man in her room, sitting on her bed.

“Am I bleeding?” he murmurs, his eyebrows pulling together as he lowers the pack. She leans in to inspect, shaking her head.

“No, just a little swollen. Keep the ice on it.”

They’re silent for a few slightly uncomfortable minutes. She wonders if this means she really can’t kiss him now. What, is she crazy? Of course she can’t.

He pulls the ice pack away again and licks his lips. He looks at her. She smirks.

“Yup. Still pretty.”

He blushes and ducks his head.

“You have such pretty lips,” she confesses, letting out an aggravated sigh. He shivers and grins at her, opening his mouth to respond when he sees her face go blank.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with me?” she says to herself, deadpan, “You’re a 19 year old rock star.”

“Well… thank you for calling me a rock star,” he begins uncertainly. She snorts.

“This is so not a good idea for me,” she says again, mostly to herself. He doesn’t pick up on that.

“Why not?” His voice is a little pouty, and a little hurt underneath that.

“Because I’m not ‘casual kiss at party’ girl. And I just moved here. I don’t even have friends yet. If I don’t have friends yet, I shouldn’t be kissing the ones I just made, that’s bad planning.”

“You don’t have to be ‘casual kiss at party’ girl.”

She shoots him a look that shuts down wherever that could be going. “You’re 19. The only girls in your life right now are ‘casual kiss at party’ girls. As it should be.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“No, I guess you had to get into it a little to write the songs you do,” she concedes, folding her legs towards him. He does notice that.

“I get what you might be thinking. It makes sense. But I don’t do this a lot,” he says gently.

“What, run into iron gates with your perfect, pouty man lips?” she groans, falling back onto the bedspread and grabbing at her Olaf pillow pet.

He chuckles and looks at her fondly. “Casual kissing at parties. I don’t do it a lot. I’m not ‘cool music industry’ guy. I just… I saw you tonight on the dragon and talking to Sammi and I felt like my stomach fell out.”

She’s not used to being told anything like this. She’s trying to decide whether to believe him or decide he’s saying what he needs to. His eyes are earnest. She pulls herself back up to sit and sigh.

“You’re fucking adorable.”

“Thank you, so are you.”

“But I’m not mature enough for this. So I’m not kissing you, Mendes.”

He shrugs, resigned. “That’s ok. The universe seems to not like the idea of my kissing anyone tonight.”

She looks up him. His eyes are turned down to his lap and he looks a little bummed. She wants to suck that swollen bottom lip between her teeth and feel him moan. She shakes that idea off and instead brushes a hand through his hair.

“Stupid universe.”

She holds onto her resolve long enough to get him back upstairs with the rest of her roommates and the remaining guests. He was among the last to leave, her number as his parting gift.

He doesn’t wait 24 hours to text her. He waits 9 – just after he wakes up on the hot, dry morning of July 5th. He thanks her for a great party and tells her he’ll be back in town in a few weeks and he wants to see her.

I’d like that. And now I’ve listened to your music and definitely won’t mix you up with Charlie Puth again!

He lives for that text. Even as they continue their conversation, he scrolls back up just to look at it and laugh.

Ok I just listened to “Mercy.” First of all, I fucking love it. Second of all, who hurt you??? I’ll fuck ‘em up.

He responds to tell her it’s not about a girl, actually.

Bullshit. Don’t protect her.

He insists it’s about loving something that’s difficult, like his music career. She begs off.

An hour later, she texts him again.

I just watched your Carpool Karaoke. I think I’m in love with you now.

He responds, are you just watching every video of me on youtube???

Maybe, she replies.

He loves that idea.

++++++++

August 12th, 2018

“So you really thought I was Charlie Puth?” he sighs.

“Yes. I mean, no… I mean… listen—”

He interrupts her flustered babbling with a laugh so she knows he’s teasing her.

“I knew you both existed. It’s not like I had never heard of you. I knew there was a Charlie Puth and a Shawn Mendes but I didn’t know which one of you was which. If he had come strolling into my backyard, I would’ve wondered if he was you. But Sammi told me who you were before I could make a fool of myself.”

“Thank god for Sammi,” Shawn replies. It sounds like the end of the conversation. With a pang, she realizes she doesn’t really want him to hang up.

“I gotta go, it’s so late here and I have to try to knock out a few hours of sleep. I’m glad I accidentally called you though,” he laughs, standing with his phone and walking to the trash with his empty food containers.

“I really enjoyed it, call me on purpose sometime and we can continue our discussion about why people should’ve been listening to Zenon, girl of the 21st century the whole damn time.”

He barks a laugh and it shakes one out of her in response. She bites her lip as he settles and waves goodbye, signing off with a nod.

++++++++

August 17th, 2018

“So you have a song on the soundtrack but never saw the movie?! C’mon, Shawn,” she groaned, tipping her head back against the cushion. When he asked to Facetime her a few days later, she was in bed watching old Gilmore Girls episodes and feeling sorry for herself when an interview she booked with a film production company was abruptly canceled because they hired someone else.

Lilly decided stepping outside felt more neutral than sitting in bed, even though the sun was going down. And he was snuggled up on his hotel room couch in Tokyo in a hoodie looking like absolute boyfriend material.

“I know, I know, that’s bad,” he laughed, nodding and ducking his head shamefully.

“The movie’s so good! Actually, the second one’s even better. And the music is better in the second one.”

After a moment of quiet, she realized what she’d said. She fixed her gaze back on the screen and saw him look mock offended. She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Oh my god! I didn’t mean that.”

“You definitely did though,” he chuckled.

“I mean… listen, your song wasn’t in the movie. Maybe that was what it needed, that would’ve put it over the top,” she babbled.

“Sure. Ok.”

+++++

August 20th, 2018

Shawn: God I haven’t been to the beach in so long

Lilly: Well, we should go when you come back. I’ve been meaning to go out and see Malibu. You down?

Shawn: Hell yeah, Malibu is dope.

She can’t believe how excited she is to see him again. Every time she feels her mind wander to how he looked in her pool with a beer in hand, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the conversation with her, she chants the number 20 in her head.

She remembers being 20. During her 20th year, she changed her major to journalism for no good reason and fell madly in love with a very damaged boy named Bennett who treated her like garbage. She cringes when she thinks of herself at 20.

She knows it’s not fair to assume he’s as stupid as she was then, or even to suggest that she is a pillar of wisdom now at 24. But he’s also a pop star. When he left her room that night after returning her ice pack and planting a kiss on her cheek, she looked him up on Tumblr and found the multitudes of women lusting after him as she expected. That kind of attention makes her nervous. He has no reason to be interested in a serious relationship and she’s secure enough to admit that’s what she wants at this point in her life. But she can’t deny how much she already likes him. She’s sure if she spends more time with him and sees the speed at which his life moves, it will erase any idea of more from her mind.

But as she’s cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway with him in her passenger seat looking out the window and grinning hard, it’s difficult to imagine feeling differently.

He’s picking through her iTunes playlists, gently teasing some choices and praising others. They bounce between classic rock, country, top 40 of various eras, and, at her insistence, some of his music.

“I just bought your entire discography for the purpose of forcing you into my own personal Carpool Karaoke. So sing, monkey!” she cries, slapping her hands on the wheel as they get stuck dead in traffic again somewhere around Thousand Oaks.

He’s laughing. She has such a sharp wit, he can’t help but delight in it. He gives in, because he thinks she just really wants to hear him sing and he wants to make her smile, maybe show off a little.

“Ok, fine, which one do you want me to sing?” He feels himself going pink and turns his face to look out the window at the disgruntled travelers.

She debates internally, bobbing her head back and forth. “Well, I really like “Stitches” because I’ve actually had that song for a while but the last few days I’ve been really into “Nervous.””

He nods once and selects it from her playlist. “”Nervous” it is.”

She bounces in her seat, grinning from ear to ear, nodding as he starts getting into it, belting it out just for her. Soon they’re both blushing and enthralled by each other but pretending not to be. When he finishes the song, she’s biting hard on her lower lip to tamp down her smitten smile, shaking her head.

“Thank you for indulging me. You… are a very good singer.”

He snorts and sits back, satisfied, and thanks her quietly. He’s silent for a comfortable minute, then he gets an idea. “I wanna hear you sing.”

“No, you don’t,” she corrects him, widening her eyes at the road, not daring to look at him. Her reaction only makes him push harder.

“Now I really do! Come on, pick a song.”

“No.”

“Pick a song or I pick for you.”

“Pick any song you want, you can’t force me to sing.”

“No, but if I put something on you really like you’ll start singing anyway.” He grabs her phone and starts perusing her options. “Ok… oh shit, yeah, One Direction, perfect.”

“Oh my god,” she giggles nervously, knowing he’s right.

“What’s your favorite One Direction song?”

She sighs dramatically. “I mean… if you’re going to make me sing, I want it to be something I can actually sing well enough.”

He’s shifting in his seat with excitement, his black board shorts crinkling. “Ok, what are we picking, eh?”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes at his accent. “Maybe… Taylor Swift?”

“Ok,” he nods, tapping on her phone to pull up some options. She feels her heart throb harder. He scrolls, impressed by the amount of songs she has to choose from.

“Do “You Belong with Me.” I can… kind of sing that. I think. We’re gonna find out. I hate you, by the way.”

“Shut up and sing,” he snaps jokingly. When the song starts, she shakes her head.

“Wait, no, no, not this one.”

“Oh, come on…”

“No, do “Fearless.” I can do “Fearless.” I’ll do “Fearless.”” Her words stumble out fast and a little scrambled. He would feel bad about putting her on the spot, but she’s so cute when she’s nervous.

The instrumental part starts and she’s trying not to smile but the way he’s looking at her is making that hard. The first verse is well within her normal range. She croons along seriously, trying to show off whatever talent she honed in her short-lived vocal classes back when the only thing she wanted to be in life was Hayley Williams. She’s watching the road carefully as the verse opens up to the bouncier, louder chorus. She raises her voice along with Taylor’s and sees him smile wider in her periphery as she gets into it.

She turns sincere around the bridge and leans her head back, reaching up into falsetto. He tilts his head back too and watches her, fascinated. He wants to press repeat when the song ends and make her go again. Even better, he wants to make her sing every song on her phone. When it fades out, Lilly purses her lips and ducks her head.

“That was really good,” he insists, wondering if she doesn’t know. She sighs, knowing he really couldn’t say otherwise.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll keep my day job. Just kidding, don’t have one.”

He notes the way she deflects with humor. He shakes his head, hoping maybe if he keeps singing, she’ll join him. They flip through more songs in her summer playlist. It’s heavily populated by country artists he doesn’t know. She is pleased to educate him. When “Driving All Night” by Jake Owen comes on, they’re both quiet, bobbing their heads as the Pacific comes into view.

“You should cover this song,” she murmurs shyly, glancing at him.

“You think?”

“Yeah. I love this song. It’s so sexy and romantic. And you’d sound better than Jake Owen anyway.”

He pulls out his phone. She doesn’t think anything of it until he opens his notes app and looks at her earnestly. “What’s it called?”

“You���re writing it down?”

“Yeah, I’ll give it a shot. What’s it called?”

She’s baffled, giggling. “It’s “Driving All Night” by Jake Owen. You’re gonna cover it just because I told you to? That’s too much power for me.”

He smiles. “I won’t post it anywhere. I’ll just record it and send it to you.”

She takes a deep breath and exhales. It’s hanging there between them. He’s being so sweet to her, they both know what he means by it. He decides to try to tone it down a little.

They arrive at Zuma Beach, marveling at the lack of people despite the gorgeous summer day. It bodes well, though, for keeping them out of the tabloids. He insists on paying for parking since she drove. She winks at him when he hands her his platinum Amex to hand to the parking attendant. He rolls his eyes and snickers at her.

They set up to the left of one of the lifeguard stations with chairs and towels. They settle in next to each other facing the water and Lilly moans.

“This is amazing. I’ve been here five minutes but I think it’s my new happy place.”

“Agreed. This is awesome.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, heads tipped back with small, sleepy smiles on their faces. Shawn doesn’t seem worried about being recognized. She tries not to look around to see if anyone has noticed him.

“Tell me something,” she whispers, turning her head to him.

“What kind of something?”

“Tell me… something you’re excited for coming up.”

“Uhm, well, I’m doing a bunch of festivals this summer. Going to Brazil and a couple other cool places I haven’t seen yet.”

“That sounds fantastic. I’d love to go to Brazil.”

“You like to travel?”

“Love it. I’ve always had the bug but it bit me harder when I went to London. Can’t stop thinking about it now.”

They talk about his favorite places and hers. That turns into college stories and early tour stories, which morphs into love lives and what they were like as kids and how they feel about their families. If he wasn’t half in love with her already, he is now. After two hours of flowing conversation, he stands and runs his hands through his hair. She admires his back and ass, tilting her head. He turns to look at her and she lets him catch her staring.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases.

“Gorgeous,” she admits, nodding and fanning her face, “And so is the beach.”

He sighs and reaches for her hand, tugging at it.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“The water.”

“But what about our stuff?”

“Not many people around. No one’s clocked me yet. We’ll watch it. C’mon.”

She lets him help her out of her seat but drops his hand as they head to the water under the guise of adjusting her suit. She marches ahead of him and now he gets to admire the expanse of pale skin she probably hasn’t been protecting with sunblock all that well today. She shakes her hair out from where it sticks to her sweaty back and chest. It’s salty and matted from the sea air, making her look like a mermaid on legs. His breath actually, physically catches in his chest looking at her.

“Oh, it’s cold,” she declares in confusion, her eyebrows pulled together.

“It’s not bad,” he insists, wading in up to his waist without hesitation.

“You’re too Canadian for your own good,” she replies, shuffling after him, not to be outdone. She flaps her arms and hisses when she walks in a little deeper. He resists the urge to drag her into his chest and cradle her against his bleeding warmth.

He kicks off over a wave and it catches her a little further back, pushing her backwards and swallowing her up to her shoulders. He laughs at her reaction. She splashes him, he splashes her back. She wants to grab him and lift herself onto his broad, defined back and let him take her wherever he wants. In fact, that thought haunts her throughout the day.

After a while, they head back to the chairs and dry off. He reminds her to reapply sunblock. She asks him about writing songs, about his celebrity friends, about home. He asks her about her own writing, about her best friend Lauren, about her dreams.

The sun begins to hang low and the beach empties out. She’s reminded of their long drive back inland and of his plans early the next morning.

“I don’t want to go,” she confesses, the sincerest he’s seen her all day.

“I know. This was a perfect day.”

She feels an odd connection to Malibu now and an even stronger one to Shawn. She thinks in the course of a few weeks he might’ve accidentally become one of her best friends. She doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want him to leave and forget about her. She doesn’t want to go so far from the ocean again.

“Let’s come back here,” she insists.

Her hair glows redder in the sunset. He goes as far as to cup a hand around her cheek and place a quick kiss on her forehead. “We will. I promise.”

They sing “Malibu” by Miley Cyrus and “Hotel California” by the Eagles together on the way home. They order a large pizza for dinner and eat all of it. He leaves in an Uber after they had both fallen asleep watching Must Love Dogs. He wakes her up when his car arrives and tells her not to get up and that he’ll be back in a few weeks. She misses him as soon as he’s gone.

++++++

September 1st, 2018

“If you knew how many women on the internet want you to tie them up, you would be amazed.”

“Oh my god, don’t tell me that,” he whines, plucking at a thread in his jeans.

“Seriously! Spanking, breathplay, daddy kinks—”

He interrupts her, whirling his head around even though his phone was pressed to his ear and no one was paying attention to him. “Lilly, I’m in public.”

“Keep a straight face,” she teased.

“You just said ‘daddy kink’ to me, how am I supposed to keep a straight face?” he hissed, slumping into the lobby couch, willing himself to disappear.

“This is how millennials and gen Z’ers discover their sexuality and embrace it. They read, they write, they draw. It’s a beautiful thing and you get to be a part of it.”

“Is that how it happened for you?” he whispers curiously.

She’s quiet for a minute, debating what to tell him. “I mean, yeah. Nothing is the same as personal experience but when you’re reading it, you get a sense of what interests you.”

“Makes sense,” he agrees, his voice begging her to elaborate.

“I’m not going to start listing off my kinks, Shawn, so get that out of your head.”

He laughs. “Worth a shot.”

Their beach day was almost a distant memory now. They start talking on the phone and FaceTiming more. They’ve got the long-distance friendship thing down pretty well by this point. She’s impressed by how much time he’s able to make for her. She knows better than to expect this all the time. She knows she’s lucky to get what she can from him now when he’s just touring festivals and not flung into a new city every day for months on end like he will be next year on tour. She also knows he’s been writing heavily, which puzzles her because he just released his third album.

The next time he’s back in town, she has another adventure planned.

“I’ve decided to get my first tattoo.”

“Really? Awesome. What and where?” he asks, rubbing his chin and smiling goofily, glad she can’t see him. He gets a flash of a few locations he’d like to see one on her and blushes.

“The inside of my left foot. I’m getting a silhouette of Peter Pan, Wendy, John and Michael flying.”

“That’s perfect for you, that sounds great. When are you going?”

“That’s the thing. I want you to come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re an old pro with the tattoo thing. And you have strong hands that I probably won’t break if I squeeze too hard.”

He laughs. “The hands are the moneymakers, you can’t break those.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be gentle with you, Mendes.”

He shivers as the implication and smacks his palm against the wall to refocus. “I actually got one of my finger tattoos in LA. I can call him for you, he’s really good.”

“That would be great, I was going to ask you for a recommendation.”

They set the date according to when Shawn would be back in town the next week. He springs for an Uber, claiming her foot would hurt too much to drive after she gets inked. They sit and wait while the tattoo artist prepares, Lilly’s bare legs bouncing wildly as she stares off at nothing.

“You ok?” he questions, reaching out to her knee to still her. His big, hot hand does get her attention. Her skin jumps a little. She smiles wearily.

“I’m a tough chick, I can handle a little pain, but I’m a little worried.”

“I know, I get it. It’s really not all that bad though, I promise. If I really hated it I wouldn’t have gotten five.”

“But maybe you’re way tougher than me,” she argues.

He snorts. “Doubt it. You do Orangetheory. You’re way tougher than me.”

She bumps his shoulder with hers playfully. The tattoo artist leads them back and sits them down, readying her foot for the stencil.

“Worse comes to worse, you don’t finish it all today. If it’s too much, you can come back,” Shawn reminds her, leaning in to watch as the artist stencils it the way she wants.

She takes a deep breath as he turns the needle on. Without looking away from her foot, she reaches for one of Shawn’s hands and holds it between both of hers. He squeezes her fingers supportively when the needle makes contact. She gasps gently, her lips popping open as she lets out a ragged breath. He knows he shouldn’t be aroused by her face and her noises while she’s in pain but he bites his lower lip anyway, committing them to memory.

She sandwiches his hand between hers. He scoots closer to her in his chair, feeling more welcome. She shoots him a faltering smile.

“You ok?” he murmurs. She nods in response.

“You have tiny feet,” he points out, cocking his head as the tattoo artist smiles.

“My feet are average sized, thank you,” Lilly replies dryly.

“They look little. How tall are you again?”

“I’m 5-foot-2.”

“You’re so tiny,” he marvels, stroking the outside of her palm with his trapped fingers. She’s silent, holding herself together.

“You’re doing so good, I was crying by now when I got my first one.”

She glares at him. “You told me it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“I lied.”

She chuckles and he feels better, knowing she’s relaxing. She sits back in the chair while the artist works. Instead of staring intently at the needle, she distracts herself by staring at Shawn.

“Were you a nerdy looking kid or did you grow up good looking?”

The tattoo artist and Shawn both snort a surprised laugh in unison.

“What?” Shawn chuckles.

“Like, were you one of the kids in middle school or whatever it’s called in Canada that all the girls liked? Or did you grow into that?”

“I… no, no, I had braces for almost 5 years. I was terrified of girls. I was not a kid girls liked,” he explains.

She furrows her brow and purses her lips at him, flinching when the artist moves to another spot on her foot. She squeezes Shawn’s hand harder. He smiles.

“I want to believe you but I don’t think I do. I see you now and I can’t believe you weren’t cute growing up.”

“I’ll send you pictures,” he promises, nodding at her. After a few seconds, he asks, “Why are you asking this?”

She looks embarrassed. “I’m suspicious of boys that grew up knowing they’re hot. There were guys I went to school with that were horrible because every girl in class had a thing for them and they just never grew out of being cocky little shits.”

“And you’re worried that’s me?”

“That sounds bad. I don’t think you’re a cocky little shit. You just seem too good to be true sometimes.”

Shawn looked a little smug, covering her clasped hands with his free hand. “And then you remember I’m 20 and that’s why you won’t go out with me.”

The tattoo artists covers up a laugh with a cough. Lilly’s eyes blow wide open. This thing between them is not something they acknowledge. Shawn seems playful enough about it, so she decides to engage.

“I feel like I was a different human being at 20. I’m not saying I’ve reached enlightenment now at 24, that’s stupid. I just—”

“I know, I’m just teasing you.”

“It’s less about your age now than it was,” she admits quietly. He looks interested now. This is new information.

“I thought at first there’s no way I could relate to a 20-year-old on any level other than very basic friendship. But you proved that wrong. So I guess if I’m being really honest with myself, which I am because I have an electric needle in my foot, the only thing left of concern is your job.”

Shawn ducks his head. The tattoo artist looks like he’s not paying attention at all, which makes him good at his job.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” Shawn whispers, looking bashful and a little hurt. Lilly shuts down, worried that her honesty was too much. She keeps his hand in hers, rubbing it absent-mindedly as she continues to stare at the tattoo.

She and Shawn are quiet for the rest of the session. She can only imagine what the tattoo artist must think. When it’s finished, Shawn leans in to take a good look. She’s smiling at it fondly.

“It looks great,” he murmurs, sounding distracted. She releases his hand. He flexes it and marvels at the pinkness of his skin from having it grasped so tightly. He looks at her, “Are you happy with it?”

“I am. Blissfully happy. It’s perfect.”

Shawn helps her stand after they work to carefully bandage the spot and put her shoe back on. He holds his arm out to her for support as he walks her out to the Uber. She doesn’t really need it but she takes advantage.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” she tries once they’re on their way back to Burbank.

“I should get back to my hotel, actually, I have to catch a red-eye.”

She feels awkward around him for the first time since she refused to kiss him in her bedroom while he had an ice pack on his lip.

They arrive at her house. He asks the driver to wait as he steps out and meets her by the front steps. He pulls her in for a hug and it’s warmer than she expects. She presses her face into his neck and hopes he feels what she’s trying to say through the action. He pulls back and pecks her forehead.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promises, opening the door to climb back into the car.

“When will you be back?” she almost whines.

“It’ll be a little longer. Probably six weeks.”

She looks hurt under a brave face. It makes his stomach turn. It also goes to prove her point about his job as an obstacle to their relationship. He dips his head in the car and doesn’t watch as she walks up the stone steps under a curtain of bougainvillea.

++++++++

October 14th, 2018

“Sometimes when I miss you the most I watch your music videos,” she admits, two glasses of red blend deep.

He raises his eyebrows at that idea. “Yeah? Which one’s your favorite?”

“Well, I hate “Stitches” because you get the shit beat out of you.”

He laughs heartily at her bluntness. He sips his beer and relaxes against his hotel bed headboard, gazing at the skyline. He can’t remember where he is anyway, so he closes his eyes and imagines sitting in her bed with her head in his lap, hair spilling in every direction.

“I didn’t ask which ones you hate,” he reminds her.

“I really like “Nervous.” It makes me smile,” she whispers, pulling Olaf to her chest and pecking his white, sparkly forehead.

“I like “Nervous,” too.”

They’re both quiet, ignoring the meaningful silence between them.

“You know what’s not fair?” he pipes up.

“Hmm?” she hums through a mouthful of wine.

“I don’t have videos of you I can watch when I miss you.”

She sighs. “I’m not an international superstar.”

“Send me some.”

“I don’t know that I have many of just me… hold on, let me put you on speaker.”

He waits as she scrolls through her phone.

“Wow, I really don’t have any videos of myself. I have some stupid drunk snapchats—”

“Oh, I definitely want those,” he laughs, straightening up at the idea.

“Like, my drunk lip sync game is strong.”

She’s going through videos and giggling to herself. He’s perfectly content to just sit there and listen.

“Oh my god, SEAN!” she cries suddenly, her voice a moan of longing and nostalgia.

“What?!” he asks, alarmed.

“Oh! Not you, sorry. My college friend Sean. I haven’t talked to him in a long time. He works for Apple now.”

“Oh, ok,” he chuckles, dragging back another gulp of beer.

“Oh my god, I’m such a fucking lush,” she laughs, alarmed at the number of drunk videos she has, “I’m sending you all of these because they’re all hilarious. And now I’ve gone too far back into 2008, not a good look.”

“No, send me those, too.”

“From when I was 13? Hell no.”

“That sounds like gold, honestly.”

A few more seconds of scrolling and she sighs once again, aggravated. “Sorry, bub, I have very little for you. Certainly not of the quality of your music videos.”

“That’s ok, send me what you have and then just do new ones.”

“Of what?”

“Of whatever. Of you at home, hanging out, cooking, singing—”

“I know better than to send you video of me singing.”

“You’re right,” he chuckles, “Don’t do that, I’ll be too tempted to post it.”

“So I need to document more of my life to share with you.”

“At least for a while until I get back to LA.”

“How much longer?”

“Two weeks.”

“I’ll see if I can hold myself together until then,” she teases, releasing her empty glass of wine on her coffee table, “But for now, it’s time for bed. I’m glad you had a good show. I miss you, pal.”

“I miss you, too. I’ll see you soon. Sweet dreams.”

And she does send him videos, usually when he’s least expecting it. He got the first one in the car on the way to the airport to return to Toronto. It was a two minute diatribe about the heat wave in Los Angeles and her despair at finding her car to be registering 118 degrees when she went to Ralph’s for groceries. She blew him a kiss thoughtlessly at the end of the video. When he was alone in his own bed that night, twitching and sleepless, he re-watches the last thirty seconds, thumbing over the status bar on the bottom of his phone a few extra times to watch and hear the loud kiss.

He gets another when he’s just waking up in Pickering while visiting his parents. She’s gone to Malibu without him and his heart aches at the idea. Though a little guilty, he’s also pleased to see she didn’t light up there the same way without him. She walks him around Zuma Beach for almost 10 minutes, rambling about nothing. He watches that video in full 3 times that day.

His favorite is one he gets while out in the city with his buddies, he can’t remember where exactly. She’s lying in bed on her side curled up so she looked like she was talking to him during one of their unplanned sleepovers. She’s telling him about the girls she met from Emily’s musical and this conversation they had about their place in the industry as women and their insecurities and their strengths. She tells him how she stayed quiet during the conversation, partly in an effort to let these wise, wonderful, talented women have their say and learn from their words, partly because she thought if she started talking, she’d explode. She looks right into the camera lens during this video and it’s startling to him the hole he feels in his chest at her pleading gaze.

“So, really what I realized is as much as I liked listening to these women talk, I realized I didn’t want to talk to them as much as I wanted to talk to you. So come back to LA, your second home, to your partner in crime and your beach buddy. I miss you like crazy. It actually hurts me. Ok I’ve had an emotional evening and if I start talking about how much you mean to me, I won’t stop. Not that you don’t deserve to hear it and be reminded of it regularly, but it’s almost 2 AM and I’m trying not to be that girl anymore. So, as always, I love ya and I’m proud of you every fucking day and you make me want to be great.”

++++++++

November 5th, 2018

“So like… with Harry, it’s like…” she trails off, grinning. He feels his stomach churn at the idea that she might talk about him this way when he’s not around, “It’s like he’s an old friend who I love but never get to see or talk to anymore. When he shows up anywhere on Tumblr or whatever, I’m like, ‘aw, I love Harry.’ But Niall…”

He sits up when he sees the devilish look on her face. “But Niall what?” he prompts, sounding uneasy.

“But Niall is my mans,” she says simply, blushing at him through the screen.

He rolls his eyes. “God. This is why I can’t take you to industry events, y’know, because I’m worried you’ll kidnap him.”

“I wouldn’t, I definitely wouldn’t, but I would shamelessly bat my eyelashes all night until he either gave in to my advances or asked me if I had some kind of condition.”

Shawn bursts out laughing at that, imagining the scene. “Yup, yup, I’m never going to take you to meet him.”

++++++++

November 28th, 2018

She’s focused on trying not to drop her phone, coffee mug or purse as she wrangles her way into her bedroom, the sun beating down on her exposed neck. She pushes inside and right away, there’s something wrong. There’s a large black suitcase resting against her dresser. Alarmed, she looks up and sees him at the far end of the room. He’s shedding a leather jacket on her chair, looking both delighted and guilty.

“What are you—”

He interrupts, “You ruined my surprise! I was going to hide and scare you.”

“Fuck, Shawn!” she cries, dropping her belongings on the dresser and racing for him, deciding to launch herself into him when he holds his arms out to her. He catches her easily and spins her as she locks her arms around his neck. He has her a foot off the ground and slows their twirl, eventually lowering her slowly until her feet touch the ground. He buries his face in her neck and keeps her there. When he can finally stomach it, he pulls away, stepping back with his hands on her shoulders.

“Why are you crying?” he laughs, brushing her arm playfully.

She wipes at her eyes, shaking her head. “Because I’m fucking surprised, goof, you weren’t supposed to be here for two days. I was going to pick you up from LAX like a dutiful best friend. I was going to order sushi so we’d have it ready when I brought you home.”

His heart flutters both at her idea and the mention of her home as ‘home.’ Like it was sort of his, too. “I’m sorry. That sounds like a great plan. If you want, I can call an Uber and go back to LAX and we can try again.”

“No, this is better,” she insists, planting her face back into his chest, make-up smearing on his white t-shirt.

“I missed you,” he admits, rubbing her back gently, rocking them.

“I missed you somethin’ awful,” she agrees, stepping away and pushing at his chest, “You were gonna scare me?”

“Yeah, I was going to hide in the wardrobe.”

“Wow, you had a scheme.”

“I had a whole plane ride to plan it out.”

“And how is it you’re here two days early?” She sits in the middle of her bed. He follows her to prop himself on the edge, not wanting to get too comfortable without her permission.

“Well, don’t get too excited, because my meetings got moved up. So you don’t have extra time with me, it’s just sooner than we planned.”

“I’ll take what I can get, Mendes, you’re a busy man.”

He shrugs. “I’ll always make time for you.”

She cocks her head and smiles, unsure of how to react when he says those sweet things to her. She doesn’t get the sense that he’s actively trying to wear her down. She thinks he’s just saying what he means. She wonders if he’s in love with her.

He leans forward, eyebrows raised as if to tell her a secret. She leans with him.

“I brought my guitar,” he whispers. She jolts back, clapping her hands.

“Yay! Now I can finally learn to play and then seduce Niall like I’ve always wanted,” she jokes, kicking her legs out and biting her lip.

“Funny, funny girl,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes as he gets up off the bed to get his guitar case.

She watches him as he bends down to unlock the case, her eyes wandering to the inch or two of his Armani boxers that peek at her from above the waistband of his jeans. She bites her lip again, her heart still pounding from the surprise of finding him in her room.

“God, I love that you’re here,” she whispers earnestly. He lifts the guitar and turns to her, smiling shyly.

“Good surprise?” he asks.

“Great surprise,” she confirms with a nod, scooting back on her bed until she hit the mass of pillows in front of her headboard. He wants to crawl on top of her and never leave. Instead, he picks up the guitar and starts plucking out something he learned for her.

In a flash, before he can even start singing it, her head snaps up from her gaze on his fingers and she widens her eyes. “Is this…?”

“Lights out, I still hear the rain…” he begins, singing at her through a satisfied smirk. She buries herself deeper into her pillows and covers her mouth and nose with her hands.

Up to that point, she couldn’t have imagined loving that song more than she had for the last ten years. But he learned it for her, he took the time out of writing and touring to learn her very favorite song by her very favorite band just to sing it for her. He sings the whole thing perfectly and emotionally, shutting his eyes and nodding his head and getting into it. When the last note fades out, he rests a hand on the guitar and smiles sheepishly.

“You are something else,” she laughs shakily, sitting up from the pillows. Her face is all red. He wants to cup it in his hands and stare. He holds onto the guitar a little harder.

“You wanna learn “Jasey Rae?”” he offers, gesturing at the guitar.

She blinks, tempted. “No, I want to learn one of your songs.”

His heart pounds as he shifts in his seat. “Ok. Which one?”

“Which one is easiest for a beginner?”

He laughs. “None of them.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches out to poke at the strings under his fingers. “C’mon, I know you want to hear me sing your music.”

He’s busted. He shakes his head, giggling bashfully. “I give. Let’s learn “Like To Be You.””

“Oh, hell yes, duet time. Let’s High School Musical this bitch.”

He rolls his eyes at her uncanny ability to twist his romantic gestures into humor. He still has another trick up his sleeve, though.

“C’mere,” he gestures, kicking off his shoes and spreading his legs. She raises her eyebrows. He pats the space between his thighs.

“Come there?” she chokes.

“Come sit between my legs otherwise I can’t show you where your fingers go.”

She looks suspicious but crawls over to him, stopping when she’s a breath away from his lips to turn and scoot back into his chest. He lifts the guitar over her lap and lays it down to show her different parts of it. He shows her the strings and names them and shows her how to use a guitar pick. He positions his head over her shoulder and guides her hands, singing quietly as he shows her the first few chord progressions. She picks it up quickly.

“Did I ever tell you I played the harp when I was little?” She’s looking down at the guitar when she says it, cheeks going red.

“Really?” he laughs in disbelief.

“Yeah. For two years. I wanted to play an instrument no one else I knew did so I picked the harp. My mom and I took lessons together.”

“That’s fucking adorable,” he coos, resting his head on her shoulder. She spares him a glance and shrugs gently, not enough to shove him off.

“So you’re gonna be a pro, then. Ok now put your fingers here and here,” he explains, demonstrating by moving her hands around for her.

“I get worried I might lose you a little,” she sings authentically, light and airy in her falsetto he’s grown to really love. He harmonizes with her. She falters slightly at the unexpected addition, grinning at him as she continues, pulling herself back on track. He nods along, impressed by how well she knows the words.

She struggles with where to put her fingers, but she’s motivated and it helps that she knows the song. Slowly but surely, she puts it together and within a couple hours can play it through at a slow tempo. When she runs it through solidly the first time, he wraps his arms around her and shakes her.

“You did it! You’re a fuckin’ rockstar!”

She squeals and burrows back into him, delighted at his enthusiasm. He wiggles behind her and manages to squeeze his phone out of his impossibly tight back pocket. “C’mon, let’s get one on video.”

“Nooooo, Shawn, no Instagram, not with me all snuggled up to you, Lauren will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Not for Instagram, just for me, ok?”

The look of sincerity on his face breaks through her resolve quickly. She nods and he goes to great lengths to set it up, perching it on the mantle above her fireplace and sitting behind her as she strums.

It sounds nice. Julia Michaels’ voice is heartbreakingly beautiful; the recorded version of the song aches with want and frustration and guilt and regret but with Lilly, it’s different. This is the closest they’ve come to discussing their relationship since the day of the tattoo snafu. She’s singing honestly and with the grace of someone with a nice voice who is paying more attention to the guitar parts she learned pretty quickly. He’s staring at her the whole time, bobbing his head and singing to her and with her quietly. When the song ends, she looks up at him with a grin and looks to the camera.

“We did it!” she squeaks, throwing her arms out. He laughs and stands up from behind her, walking to end the recording and put his phone back.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, patting her ankle.

“Are you kidding? Thank you! That was great. And hey, now you can take me on tour and we never have to be apart,” she teases. His demeanor shifts a little.

“I have to talk to you about that, actually.” Her eyebrows raise in anticipation.

“I wrote a new album,” he explains quietly, clearing his throat and looking down at his crossed legs.

“You released a new album in May,” she laughs, her voice on edge due to the look on his face.

“No, I know, and we won’t release it for a while, but I wrote it. And… the reason I’m telling you this is… because a lot of it is about you.”

She stares at him blankly. “A lot of it?”

He bobs his head back and forth noncommittally. “All of it.”

“All of it?” She’s trying not to panic, he can see it on her face.

“It just… came out,” he babbles, waving his hands frantically, “Like lyric vomit. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never written this many songs myself before, much less about one person. I didn’t know what to do. I was calling Ryan and Teddy and Ed trying to figure out if I was just fucking crazy or what and I sent them the stuff I had and they said it’s good, it’s like, really good, they say it’s my best stuff. And I didn’t know what to do because we have this… thing, this fucking elephant in the room at all times and I had to tell you because I’m so excited about this music but it’s… it’s all about you.”

She’s just staring at him, her heart beating faster with every word that spills from his panicked mouth. She looks down at the guitar which feels really heavy all of a sudden. She hugs it closer like a shield between them.

“Is it… I mean… what kind of songs are they?”

He hesitates. “Romantic ones…?”

She’s quiet for a while. It’s killing him, but he doesn’t dare speak. She wiggles uncomfortably.

“Well, I can’t wait to hear it,” she whispers, her smile shy and apologetic. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“I’m excited to play it for you. When it’s… y’know, done.”

He leaves for a dinner with people from his label. She sits on the edge of her bed for a while, gnawing on her top lip and staring at the tile floor. It occurs to her now how badly, how irrevocably she may have screwed this up.

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @crapri

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes imagine

[threedaybreakdown]

Rematch

Word Count: 3937

AO3 Link

Carolina was a champion MMA fighter who lost her title when aggressive newcomer Texas entered the scene. Carolina spends a year training day and night for a chance at reclaiming her title.

~~~~

It was late at night. How late? Carolina had no idea at this point. All she knew was that her form needed to be better. She needed to be better. This is all she could think as she repeatedly attacked the punching bag. Her grunts of exertion mixed with the sound of the from a top sports commentary broadcast were the only sounds to fill the large and deserted gym.

“We haven’t heard from Carolina in awhile.”

“Yeah, now she wants a rematch. Does she actually want a shot at winning?”

“Who knows, maybe she’s been doing nothing but training since their last match.”

“For her sake, I sure hope she has.”

“Even if that was the case, would it even be enough?”

“It’s Texas. No amount of training can truly prepa-”

The broadcast clicked off and was replaced with a new voice.

“You really shouldn’t be listening to that shit. Especially not while training,” said a man from the doorway. Carolina didn’t need need to turn around to see who was intruding upon her space. It was York. Whether she liked it or not, he was always there looking out for her.

“Did I ask your opinion? Did I even ask you to be here right now,” said Carolina, still not diverting to her attention from the bag.

“No, but seeing as it’s one and you never showed up to the dinner plans we had, I got concerned.” Carolina didn’t respond, but her movements slowed, but only minutely. “I just wanted to know that you were alright is all. You weren’t answering your phone.” She didn’t respond so York kept talking, “You see, I figured ‘She’ll be fine. Just a late practice. She’ll respond eventually.’ But after a few hours I figured you could be doing one thing.”

To Carolina's surprise he stopped talking. Their conversations normally ended after telling her not put this much pressure on herself. That losing to one person didn’t make any less of a talented of a fighter. He would ask her to rest. To find a moment where her only thoughts weren’t about beating Texas. They’ve been having this conversation since she lost the bantamweight title to Texas a year ago. Carolina was almost happy for the change of script. That inspirational introspective crap was the last thing she needed to hear right now. York may not like it, but Carolina was determined to work herself to death for a mere shot at reclaiming her title, mental and physical well-being be damned. This didn’t stop her from feeling a twinge of guilt though. Carolina knew that York only had her best interest at heart, and that every time she pulled a stunt like the one she did tonight she was not only hurting herself. She was also hurting the person she cared for the most.

Carolina stopped training and rested her face against the punching bag for a brief moment. Her exhale was deep and heavy. When she lifted it again she felt a twinge of fatigue strike her. The toll of her training finally started to catch up to her.

“I’m sorry York. I couldn’t focus on anything but this all day.” She turned to face him. “I just can’t relax knowing that the rematch is only two weeks away.”

“So destroying your body before is the answer?”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry for standing you up and not answering your calls, but this is what I need to be doing. If I don’t win…” She couldn't finish the sentence. Failure was an idea that she could not entertained at this time. “I need to win, York.”

He sighed, “You’re going to stay here no matter what I say, aren’t you?” She held his gaze. “Fine, then I might as well stay here too.”

“No, you’re not.”

York took a seat on the floor by near the wall, “What, so when you collapse from exhaustion no one will be around to help you?”

Couldn’t argue there. The less she moved he more her fatigue caught up to her. “I’ll start my cool down,” was her only response.

After another thirty minutes Carolina finally finished for the night. With her muscles feeling like lead, she let York drive her back to her apartment. She’ll just take an Uber to the gym to get her car tomorrow.

The car ride was quite. The only words exchanged were their goodbyes once they finally got to Carolina’s place. She took a quick shower and fell into her bad without drying her hair. It’ll just go back in a braid again in the morning so who cared.

She fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes and not much later did she have the dream again. The closer the rematch got the more she had the dramatic retelling of her biggest regret.

It was that night one year ago. She was in the octagon waiting for her match against the newcomer Allison “Texas” Church to start. Tex might have won all of her previous matches with can only be described as brutal efficiency, but she never faced Carolina. She has never lost either making this match the most anticipated of the year.

The bell rang.

Everything after that was a struggle to keep the upper hand. Carolina never faced someone who can even be considered on the same level as her. So finally facing someone matched her skills with an unchecked rage to to boot made this fight nothing short of stressful.

Tex got in a well-placed shot on Carolina’s face. Her lip most have split because she was suddenly tasting blood. Ignore it, she thought as she countered. She seemed to be taking more damage than she was dealing, but that didn’t mean anything. As long as she was still standing there was still a chance she could knock Tex on her ass. Unfortunately that was her last thought before everything went dark. She was now standing outside of her body. Nose broken and bleeding on the mat as her title was given to Texas. Her corner came up to see if she was okay. She was roused and helped out of the ring. Her form disappeared from the scene altogether as everyone else cheered on Texas. The new reigning champ.

Carolina woke up. It was seven am. She cursed. She should have already been on her morning run.

That’s how she spent her time leading up to the fight. Exhausted and stressed but refusing to stop moving. She only stopped to sleep, and eat. She didn’t want to think, because every time she did she just remembered her own failure.

It was time for the weigh-in, and Carolina waited for Texas to arrive. This would would be the first time she saw Texas face to face since their last match. She dreaded seeing that blood-thirsty gaze again, but seeing her just meant that she was that much closer to knocking it off.

She kept that confidence going up until she caught sight of her opponent across the room. She stared motionless at her. Carolina had been anticipating this but it just didn’t seem real. The Tex of her nightmares seemed more corporeal than the one she was looking at. Just then Tex turned and caught her gaze. Carolina remembered herself and gave a nod in response.

This wasn’t right. This was not the look received at their last weigh-in. Texas’ eyes weren’t filed with rage or contempt. Instead they seemed calm. Relaxed almost. Was she really that cocky about their rematch? Regardless, this was a whole new level of arrogance.

Soon enough Carolina was called up to the stage to. She stepped on the scale. She made weight. No surprise there. She weighed herself everyday after all. Then it was Texas’ turn. Again, no surprises. It wouldn’t be like Tex to screw herself like that. Carolina still couldn’t get over the look in her eye. Even when they faced each other and shook hands she could not find a single trace of hot-head she fought a year ago. This was wrong.

They parted and the announcer came over, “Carolina, you haven’t had a match in a year. How are you feeling going up against the woman who beat you after all this time?”

“It’s just another fight. Her beating me once doesn’t make her special.”

When she came home for the night anxiety consumed her. The closer the fight came the more distorted her dreams got. They used to be semi realistic only getting distorted after she lost. Now her entire match was five seconds, and she watched it from outside of her body. She briefly considered not sleeping, but that would just set her up for disaster. She paced her bedroom thinking of alternatives. Calling York was an option, but she doubted he could help. At least that’s what she convinced herself. Meditation is bullshit, and herbal tea wouldn’t do shit. In the end she rewatched her last fight with Texas as well as Texas’ most recent fights. Again.. Studying how an opponent fought wasn’t that unusual but keeping tabs on Texas became something of an obsession for her. She needed to know if Texas was acting calm today because she already beat Carolina, or if something else going on.

Her dream that night was different than the rest. She was dressed for her fight, but she wasn’t in the octagon. She wasn’t anywhere. She existed in an expanse of black nothingness.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show your face, Carolina,” said a voice from behind her.

She turned to face her opponent, “You think I was just gonna leave you undefeated?”

“You showing up isn’t going to change that.”

The second Texas’ voice stopped Carolina was knocked to the ground. ‘How did that bitch get to here so fast?’ she thought. Caroline tried to fight back but she couldn’t move. Something was holding her in place.

“Now what did I tell you? You can’t win, Carolina,” Texas said with a casual tone before she straddled her. Her face looming over her own.

Being unable to get up would be enough for a fight to end but that didn’t seem to matter to Tex. She punch Carolina’s face without restraint. First, Carolina’s lips split. Her mouth filling with blood. Then her nose broke. The pain was enough to make her scream. Her vision was blurring as blood ran down her face. She struggled to get free. To make this stop, but the invisible force kept her still as Texas unloaded on her.

She snapped awake to the saving grace that was her alarm. Today was the day. She shoved her residual fear aside and got ready.

It was now or never. Carolina could hear the shouts of a probably full crowd through the metal doors. They were all cheers for Texas of course. Why would she still fans after all this time. She shook the thought off. This was her chance to get her life on track and she wasn’t about to let such superficial things get in her head.

The doors opened and she walked into the stadium. Carolina almost forgot how bright the lights could be, or how loud it all was. It was a bit overwhelming, but she kept reminding herself that she's done this countless times before. She redirected her attention from the spectators and the cameras, and focused on the ring. With all of the chaos that surrounded her in this vast space that was the only thing that seemed grounding. This is where she was meant to be. Her coach was talking to her, but she didn’t hear him. Her skin was crawling and she couldn’t stop moving. She just needed to get into the ring already.

The cheers got louder. Texas was making her entrance. Carolina started to grind her teeth. God, did she want to knock her out. It’d be poetic justice really. Humiliating Texas in the same fashion she was all Carolina really wanted.

They stepped into the ring, and the match started. Last night Carolina learned that Texas no longer tries to throw a punch right out of the gate, but Carolina still expected it to happen. That absence made her feel uneasy, but not uneasy enough not to try to kick Texas in her left flank. Her intent must have been written all over her face because her foot was caught with ease, and quickly countered sending Carolina onto the mat. She rolled and got back on her feet. The match continued in a similar manner for awhile. Every attempt Carolina made was was countered like it was nothing, and yet all the while Texas seemed unwilling to do any major damage. Carolina felt like she was a mouse being toyed with. Was she not worth any real effort? Why wasn’t she trying to knock her out?

Carolina had now lasted longer than she did last time, but this match still felt harder. Everything seemed to drag on for eternity even though she knew it was still only round one. Hell, they were probably only three minutes into the fight. Carolina’s rage was making her irrational and her attacks were proving less and less effective. She needed to calm down, but how could she when she was up against this arrogant asshole. She needed to change strategy. If she could just get in close maybe she could get her that way.

She deflected one one of Tex’s shin strikes. Carolina took that as her chance and closed the space between the two of them, and struck Texas in the head. Or she tried to at least. Texas blocked and then hooked Carolina’s ankles thus sending her to the ground yet again. She tried to recover, but it was too late. Taxes had her pinned. As Carolina struggled to break free the ref began to count. She fumed and fought, but she couldn’t get any leverage. The familiarity of this made her panic all the more. And just like that the match was over.

Texas got up and accepted her victory. Her face face barely held a smile. Only a slight upturn of her lips. She expected victory Carolina decided. That thought made something go cold inside of herself. She left the ring. On her way out she ignored everyone around her. Granted, only her team and vulturous reporters wanted her attention, but she couldn’t find a reason to care about their existence. She didn’t even care for what York had to say. He came to see the fight of course, and found Carolina the second he could get to her. She told him to get lost. He refused. She wanted to chew him out for this, to make him hurt, but she knew that’s not what she really wanted. Instead she told him she needed to be alone. He squeezed her shoulder, said he’d call her later, and left.

This fight didn't sit right in her. At least in the last one she had a clear failure, but this one felt like it didn’t really happen. All this time she thought the only option was a knockout on either side. This was like an option that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

She was on her way out when she caught Texas. Her mind went dark and as if on autopilot she stormed over and unleashed everything that’s been bothering her.

“What was that?” Carolina demanded.

Tex look shocked and confused at the sight of Carolina fuming before her and simply said, “I’m sorry?’

“Don’t act confused. That fight. Why did you pin me?”

Texas started to shake her head ever so slightly, “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Carolina wanted to punch her, but decided against it, “Why did you treat me differently this time. Why didn’t you try to win by knockout?”

“You wanted to be knocked out?”

“No I didn’t want to be knocked out you idiot. I wanted to win. I just want to know why you went easy on me. So spit it out already.”

“Carolina, I didn’t go easy on you. I just fight differently than I did a year ago.”

“Are you kidding me? What kind of excuse is that? Just admit you don’t see me as real competition.”

“I don’t know where you got that Idea but understand, this is just how I fight now. This has nothing to do with you.”

That was not the answer Carolina wanted. She opened her mouth to say more, but she froze. She saw that the few people who had access to this part of the building were watching them. More importantly, some had their phones out to capture her melt down. Not wanting to give them anymore satisfaction she left.

By the time Carolina got home her rage faded to sadness. She lost to Texas, again. She didn’t even make it to the second round. She wished she was still raging. She wished she could just scream to get her frustration out, but instead she empty. Like nothing mattered, and maybe it didn’t. Who the fuck knows. With a loss of what to do, Carolina did the basics. She showered, and got ready for bed. As she dried her hair, she noticed her phone ringing. It was York. She couldn’t stand the thought of talking to someone, not even him. She let it go to voicemail and continued drying her hair.

She didn’t dream of losing that night. Instead she dreamed of her meltdown in front of Texas. She re-lived it all over and over again. She couldn’t seem to escape her own child-like rage. As much as she regretted how she fought in the ring, she regretted making a fool of herself just as much.

She woke up feeling sick to her stomach. She lied in bed not moving for as long as she could. She didn’t want to face the world, but she knew she had to sooner or later. She dragged herself in to the kitchen made a pot of coffee with her too heavy limbs. As the coffee brewed she convinced herself to turn on the TV to see what people were saying about her now. Immediately she was confronted with her own yelling. It was a video one of the maintenance people took of her when she confronted Texas. Seeing her rage matched with Texas calmness made Carolina hate herself all the more. She switched to other sports channels but it was just more of the same. The only thing that anyone could talk about is how she finally lost it. She tried to watch a few more minutes, but was too disgusted with herself to do so.

With the TV off and the mere thought of ingesting anything twisting her stomach, she dumped her coffee and slumped against the counter dumbfounded. She considered going back to bed, but doubted she could. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to for fear of more nightmares. The sound of her own voice screaming that Texas was messing with her rang through her head. Why did she do that? Why couldn’t she leave and get drunk like any other person whose unable to cope with their situation? She replayed all of her mistakes. Starting with yelling at Texas, to all the places she went wrong in the match, to the past year, their first fight, hell she started to analyze her whole career. Everything she did lead her to this mess. She just need to figure out how.

She stayed like this until she heard her phone ring. She walked towards the source of the ringing. Oddly enough she left it her bag. She was surprised it still had a charge.

She stared at the name on the screen for a bit before answering, “Hey, York.”

“God, I’ve been trying to reach you since last night. I was starting to think that you were never gonna pick up... How are you?”

She didn’t respond so York continued for her, “You saw the footage, huh?”

“Of me exploding at Tex like a crazed idiot, yeah I saw it. It’s everywhere. How could I not.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh yeah, did you hear what people were saying about me. They said that my year off only made me worse. That I’d sooner die in the ring then lose like that again. Worse yet, I’m starting to think they’re right and I hate it.”

“You were stressed for a year straight, and you snapped. It happens, but you can’t let other people tell you how to feel. That won’t help?”

“I’m not letting anyone tell me how to feel. I let myself stew in fear and regret for a year and now, now I’m worse than I was before.”

“I can’t begin to imagine how you are feeling, but you can’t do this to yourself. If you hate that you stewed in all of that for a year, maybe fight someone that isn’t Texas to get yourself back into the swing of things. What do you think?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now, but I want you to know that I’m here for you, and as long as you’re willing to fight so am I.”

“York, I… ” she pressed the heel of her free hand into into her eye, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can. You’re the most resilient person I know. If anyone can bounce back from all of this it’s you” He sounded so hopeful and that only made Carolina feel worse for what she was about to say.

“No, I mean I can't do any of this anymore. Not the interviews, not the training, and most importantly, not the fighting. I’m done.”

“Carolina.” His voice was stern, yet soft. “You can’t quit after only two losses. You’re better than that.”

“No, I’m really not,” her voice started to break, “I lost once and I stopped fighting for a year. I lose again and I explode at my competition for not breaking my nose a second time. Who does that sort of thing?” She could now feel tears building up, but she fought them off. If she started crying now she knew that York would feel guilty that he wasn’t there to comfort her. She wasn’t about to do that to him.

“Carolina, please think about this,” he pleaded.

“I have, and I can’t live with this kind of stress anymore. Between the expectations, people trying to narrate my every move, the hard days, and the nightmare filled nights, I just can’t.”

“It’s okay to feel that way, but please let’s talk through this.”

“No, the only thing I can do is quit. Goodbye, York.”

“Caro-”

The second she hung up she sank to the ground and cried her eyes out. Her tears flowed like waterfalls and her sobs were loud and ugly. She stayed like this for longer than she would have liked, but she knew that she needed this. She didn’t cry or let herself think about anything except winning and regaining her title for the last year. This was the accumulation a years worth of frustration, anger, and fear coming out of her all at once.

When her breathing became easier and the tears let up she moved into the kitchen and retrieved a large garbage bag. If she was going to give up on her professional career she wanted a clean break. Her mind was made and she rounded up all of her gear, and started to think of a life outside of the ring.

#rvb #red vs blue #agent carolina #agent texas #agent york #fanfic

[hannah-deserved-better]

Dystopian Crossovers

A multi-fandom, multi-pairing crossover of Supernatural, Star Trek TNG, DS9, VOY, X-files, Buffy, and the Hobbit movie verse.

These are the one-shot, two-shot, short multi-chapter adventures of the small San Francisco colony of humans. After a major disaster in the 24th century, a temporal distortion occurred which destroyed Earth in the 24th century. It also fractured other dimensions such as Middle Earth causing contamination on a colossal scale.

The disaster is thought to have been caused by experiments with the omega molecule but no one could be certain. It’s also a coincidence that at the same time, dark magic on middle earth and meddling in the natural environment by a group of rogue angels and demons in the 21st century may have added to the disaster.

Whatever the cause, Earth is now a wasteland. The setting is 2018 San Francisco after the eruption of three super volcanoes (Yellowstone, Toba, and Taupo), a nuclear explosion in DC, London, and Los Angeles, and a comet strike in the middle of the Atlantic have led to a complete wasteland.

Note: there are some controversial, rare-pair and completely made up pairings and ships below. If you aren’t prepared to have an open mind, or if you plan on sending me hate of any kind, do not continue. Also note this is very, very long.

The Characters and ships

So these characters and ships are my absolute OTPs in all my favorite shows. With the exception of one crossover pairing and a few others, these are pairings which I have been into since I first saw the shows. This is especially true where Star Trek is concerned because starting with TNG, I was a trekkie since I was 3 years old. Yes, I know they are all M/F or F/M but that isn’t relevant. This is really because these are the ships that I like all in one spot. In short, this collection of stories is all about me, myself, and I. These are my all time favorite OTPs and it really comes down to personal preference: my personal preference. And because there are so many characters I had to limit it to my absolute favorites in each show.

And yes there are so many other characters I would have loved to add in here and are certainly not forgotten but I am only one person and there are a lot of characters as it is so lots of characters just didn’t make the cut. If there were 10 of me then a lot more characters and a lot more variety of m/f, f/f, and m/m pairings would be possible but there aren’t 10 of me so it is what it is.

So here are the ships:

Janeway and Chakotay from Star Trek: Voyager

Picard and Crusher from Star Trek: The Next Generation

Kira and Odo from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Dean and Jo from Supernatural

Sam and Eileen from Supernatural

Crowley and Meg from Supernatural

Castiel and Hannah from Supernatural

Buffy and Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Willow and Charlie from Buffy and Supernatural

Fili and my OC Brenna from the Hobbit movie verse

Kili and my OC Asphodel from the Hobbit Movie verse

Mulder and Scully from X-files

If you request to do your own one-shots using this verse, you are welcomed to add whatever additional characters and ships you want, including OCs, but the above pairings are non-negotiable.

Also, writings for this story will be rare because again, I am only one person and when I feel inspired to write something, I will. And I won’t be going in order so there will be seasons and it will all be labeled as to what season.

Here’s the backstory for each series. Note that timelines will conflict so for character ages, refer to the seasons I have them in:

Star Trek Voyager

Takes place in season 6/7 right after the events of Unimatrix Zero

Kathryn Janeway was recovering from her experience with the Borg and being assimilated. She’d been taking a few days shore leave in the holodeck and Chakotay had joined her for a pleasant evening in Tuscany. They were having dinner when the disaster occurred and they were transported to Earth in 2018. When they arrived, they found the planet in ruin.

Star Trek Deep Space Nine

Takes place in season 5 / 6 during the battle with the Dominion

As Starfleet and the Klingons, led by the USS. Defiant, were trying to retake DS9 from the occupying dominion. Kira and Odo, their relationship strained from the events with the female shapeshifter, were trying to defend the station when they were transported to Earth in 2018.

Star Trek The Next Generation

Takes place in season 3 / 4 right after the battle of Wolf 359.

Dr. Crusher meets up with Captain Picard shortly after the events that made him Locutus. He was showing her around his brother’s vineyard in France, introducing her to his brother when the accident occurred and sent them to Earth 2018.

Supernatural

Takes place in Season 5 shortly before the accident with the hellhounds. 

Instead of hellhounds, Lucifer decides to go with a new plan. Destroy the planet naturally. With a snap of his fingers, three Super volcanoes become active. Sam and Dean have only a few precious hours before their world is changed forever. First Yellowstone, then Toba in Indonesia, then Taupo in New Zealand. One by one, these volcanoes erupt, causing massive destruction, global economies to collapse, and civilization to be reduced to anarchy. Within a few short months, after terrorist organizations take advantage of the situation by dropping nuclear bombs on Washington DC and London.

In retaliation for what Lucifer did, Michael launched an asteroid at Earth, the impact in the middle of the Atlantic caused devastating tsunamis in Africa and South America.

The planet is now locked in a seemingly eternal ice age caused by the triple effect of a volcanic winter and an impact winter.

Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Jo make their way to San Francisco, the peninsula is becoming a last stand against vampires, demons, and other creatures waiting to take advantage. The whole city has been warded against demons and angels and as such, Castiel has lost his grace.

Hannah: Hannah was among the angels loyal to heaven, but she also against the apocalypse. She defied heaven to undermine Michael’s efforts, as punishment, she was dropped from heaven and forced into Caroline Johnson’s body. Caroline, whose husband was killed in the eruptions, was struggling to survive in Montana. Hannah took control of her and made her way to San Francisco.

Eileen: Eileen Leahy had already been in San Francisco when the disaster occurred. She’d arrived from Dublin to finish her studies on anthropology at San Francisco State. When the disaster occurred, she was stranded since airplanes can’t fly in volcanic debris.

Charlie: Finishing up her masters in tech in San Francisco, Charlie was also in the city when the disaster occurred. Proving to be resourceful in a crisis, she helped to use the city muni subway systems as refuge areas for displaced families.

Crowley: Crowley escaped with the Winchesters when Lucifer set of the eruptions. He loses his powers and becomes stranded with them.

Meg: Meg was supposed to send the hellhounds after the Winchesters but when she failed, Lucifer banished her and she became a rogue. Reluctantly, she was forced to join forces with the Winchesters.

X-files

Takes place in between season 5 and 6 right after the events of the movie.

After returning from their event in Antarctica, Mulder and Scully are in Washington when a nuclear bomb caused them to evacuate, barely escaping with their lives. They made it across the country to San Francisco.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Takes place shortly after Sunnydale is destroyed at the end of season 7.

After the scoobies separate, the eruptions occur and Buffy and Willow make their way to Los Angeles to team up with Angel who then goes with them to San Francisco.

Hobbit

Takes place after the battle of the five armies

When Fili and Kili are separated from the rest of the company and left to fend for themselves in Laketown while the dragon pummels the defenseless town on the lake. Fili and Kili are dealt an additional blow while, during their attempt to escape with Tauriel and the others, the brothers are separated and stranded in the town. The disaster occurs and Fili and Kili are transported to a new world- modern earth 2018 in San Francisco.

Asphodel: Asphodel Cheesewillow is a typical hobbit who, while on holiday with her parents, is separated and lost in the Old Forest. She is transported to Earth.

Brenna Norrsken: Brenna is a gnome from the far north of the Forodwaiths. Her particular race of gnomes are female dominated and she and her mother were part of a whaling crew. During a particularly difficult battle with a whale, Brenna is thrown overboard and then transported.

Seasons

Yes, I am taking prompt requests, PM me for requests. Also, I am willing to work with any number of authors and artists who are interested in doing their own one shots and short stories but please remember this is MY world and MY rules. Pretty much the only rules I have are please use the appropriate ships as defined above, and please no hardcore smut. Abstract, soft smut is fine.

Seasons 1-7: Is all about them surviving in the new world created by the disasters. The 24 of them have banded together in San Francisco, along with a group of refugees. All around their little peninsula are extreme dangers. In the rest of the world, vampires, werewolves, demons, angels, and other beings have taken over. Michael dominates parts of the planet while Lucifer dominates other parts.

Seasons 8-19: as everyone has paired off by now, a series of pregnancies occur, many of which were acts of supernatural intervention.

Season 6: Hannah has a daughter, Devorah,

Season 7: Kira has a daughter, Meru,

Season 8: Janeway has twins, Jessalyn and Jordan,

Season 9: Buffy has a son, Adrien,

Season 10: Jo has a son, Jonathan

Season 11: Eileen has a daughter Lillian

Season 12: Scully has a daughter, Samantha

Season 13: Charlie has a son, Justin

Season 14: Asphodel has twins, Sighreth and Daire

Season 15: Meg has a son, Dameon

Season 16: Beverly has a daughter, Kayla

Season 17: Brenna has a son Kastrin

Seasons 20 and on: The Next Generation

#writing prompts #taking requests #star trek #supernatural #hobbit #Buffy the Vampire Slayer

[panismightier]

@forlornraven tagged me in something I’m not sure had a title but if it did I cropped it out again, whoops

1. Which writing advice do you dislike most?

I’ve seen people say you shouldn’t use exclamation points like, at all, and!! Fight me!!

2. How do you create your characters?

It varies a lot and I basically went over that earlier today in the last tag game so I’m not gonna repeat it, but that’s here if you wanna check it out (question 5)

3. How long does it take you from getting an idea to actually writing it down?

Again, it varies a lot, but let’s just say longer than I’d like 🙃

4. What’s the most you’ve written for a story? (AKA word count)

About 70k for Children of the Void! It was a plotless disaster that I ended very abruptly, I think literally mid-sentence. Maybe I’ll come back to it and make it Not Disastrous

5. Do you have a headcanon you haven’t told yet for your current story? Which one?

(Is it a headcanon if it’s my story or is it just. canon-canon)

Julian’s dad left when Julian was around fifteen because he was sick of how Caroline treated him and the kids. (That’s easily the darkest and saddest part of A Summer Rose.) Julian and Kitty still get to see him from time to time, but Caroline got custody of them because their dad married into her family to begin with.

6. Which of your MCs would you get along with best?

Kayram. I love her and her soft wheat girl nature

7. Where do you get your inspiration from?

Lots of places! I also talk about this in the above-linked tag game, so I’m not gonna repeat myself 👍

8. Do your WIPs (if you have more than one) fit together? Or, if you only have one: do you plan to have fitting stories?

Nope and nope ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

9. Which of your characters do you like most?

As a person, Percy is just like The Best, Kindest Boy, but as a character I really love Moreldis for like,, the opposite reasons. She’s kinda mean but she’s kinda right and I love her

10. Would you like to get published?

Yes!

11. Do you prefer to schedule your writing, or write only when creativity strikes?

Both! I set daily targets and have a few loosely-sceduled times I try to write (usually right after meals), but I certainly won’t not write if I get the urge, and sometimes I don’t write in those times for some reason or another, it’s not a big deal as long as I get the day’s writing done.

12. Home, coffee shop, or library for writing?

Usually home because it’s convenient but I’ve done all three and enjoy all three 👍

13. Would you ever collaborate with another writer on a story?

I’d absolutely be open to it, for sure! @danafaithwriting and I have talked about it a bit, actually.

#bloop #tag games #Dana we should follow up on that when you’re less busy again

[katierosefun]

GUYS i just woke up (lmao went to bed at 2:30 am), woke up at 10:55 am (?!?!??), and like,,,,NO this is hilarious I SCRAMBLED out of bed because i usually have an 11 am meeting but then I checked my email and!!!! my supervisor had cancelled the meeting for today so now I’m SHSJSKSKSK PHEWWWWWWW

#caroline talks #disaster student strikes again! #(i swear i’m a good student but i was like ‘hm i’ll probably wake up at 9:30’ LMAO APPARENTLY NOT)

[thetourguidebarbie]

False Advertising

I wrote this for @goldcaught​ for the Klaroline Valentine’s Gift Exchange. I could not have asked for a better giftee for my last exchange and I was thrilled to write for her. Thank you to @garglyswoof​, @cupcakemolotov​, and @chica-cherry-lola​ for help and handholding. This is very NSFW and contains BDSM and spanking. I hope you all enjoy :) Find on Ao3 here and ffnet here.

Summary: Caroline and Klaus have been play partners for two years and try to keep real life at the door. As a result, they're both totally surprised when he gets hired as Caroline's new boss. But hey, it's only an HR disaster if things go out of control, right?

Caroline checked the conference room clock again, her hands twitching as she fought the urge to grab her purse and slip out the door. She and Klaus were supposed to meet in the tiny studio apartment he rented for them to play in on the other side of town at 7:30, and it was already 7:15. 

Sadly, she had to stick around until the end of Katherine’s going away party (whenever that was going to be). Her boss was retiring from her position as Chief Marketing Officer after fifteen years with the company, and Caroline couldn’t help but be disappointed to see her go. She’d always been fair and no-nonsense, something Caroline could appreciate, and she considered Katherine a mentor.

She deeply regretted asking Anna to buy so much booze, but she hadn’t wanted them to run out. Unfortunately, her coworkers seemed determined to make sure that they didn’t waste a single drop. She pulled out her phone, not even bothering to be subtle, and opened her and Klaus’s text conversation.

[Caroline]: My office party is running over. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m sorry!

[Klaus]: How late do you think you’ll be?

Caroline bit her lip, glancing at the number of bottles they had left and trying to figure out how long it would take to clean up.

[Caroline]: 8:30? Possibly earlier if I start cleaning up and trying to get everyone out the door.

[Klaus]: Eight o’clock sharp or I won’t be able to find the time for rewards.

[Klaus]: For every minute you make me wait past that I’ll add a strike.

She sighed, dropping her phone in her purse and grabbing the garbage can, starting to sweep the candy wrappers, paper plates, and plastic cutlery off the glass-top table and into the bag. “Time to head home!” she said loudly, the room effectively going quiet as soon as she’d spoken. “Or to the bar down the street, but the point is you can’t stay here.”

There were a few grumbles before Katherine raised her beer bottle. “Shots at the grill. First round on me!”

Her coworkers filed out the door, with the exception of April, their (under twenty-one) receptionist, who hung back and offered to help. “That would be amazing, thank you,” Caroline said gratefully.

They chatted as they cleaned up, and Caroline frowned when April mentioned their new boss had been hired already and was coming in on Monday.

“Really? Was it that guy who looked like a blue-eyed weasel?”

April snorted. “No. It was the second-to-last interview? I think that might have been the week you had the flu. He’s from England. Or Australia, I guess. I feel like I can never tell the difference. Anyway, he’s hot. Like, really hot. I’d risk a trip to HR for a round—oh my god, please don’t tell Meredith I said that.”

Caroline laughed. “Secret’s safe with me, I promise. Do you remember his name? I kind of want to google him.”

April frowned. “Ugh, I know I should. I just got his background check stuff and sent it to Meredith. I know we poached him from one of the big tech companies in New York, but their marketing department is here. Michael, I think? Or that could have been his last name. I can’t remember.”

“Was he nice to you when he came in?”

“Yeah. Better than weasel guy by far.”

Caroline threw the last bottle in the recycling, checking the clock and wincing. 7:48.

“I’m really sorry April, but I have to go. I have a...a thing. Would you mind locking up? I’ll pick you up some lunch next week.”

“No problem,” April said, looking pleased at the prospect of free food (every just-out-of-college twenty-something’s dream, Caroline knew).

“Thanks! You’re the best.”

She decided to forego public transit, calling an uber instead hoping it would be faster, and she watched the time tick by as she sat in the back of Your Driver is Camille’s Lexus, “mmhm”ing to her driver’s life story about working as a bartender through college to pay for her psych degree. She thanked her the second she pulled up to the curb before hurrying to the entrance of the building, heart pounding, and tearing up the stairs, out of breath by the time she put the key in the lock.

Klaus was standing on the other side of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, looking out the window. She glanced at the clock on the microwave in the kitchenette.

8:02 . Damnit.

“Strip,” he ordered without turning to look at her. “You’re lucky that I’m in a good mood.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, her breathing still uneven. She pulled off her blouse and unbuttoned her slacks, letting them drop with her thong before reaching behind her to unhook her bra, shrugging it off.  She was silent as she stood in place waiting for him, her nipples pebbling from the cool air. He didn’t turn to look, though he drummed his nails against the windowsill in thought.

She’d learned to read little signals from him in the past two years they’d been playing, and she could tell that he was happy about something, though she didn’t have enough context to guess what. They had a firm rule to leave real life at the door, though she’d googled him in the beginning and knew that he was in the same industry she was (though in a much more prestigious position), and she wasn’t surprised he could afford to rent out a luxury apartment just for them to have kinky sex in twice a week.

She didn’t mind giving him personal details after the first few months, once she trusted him. He seemed to absorb everything she told him about her life like he couldn’t get enough, remembering small things that she almost wouldn’t have remembered herself. He always said it was part of play, that taking care of her was one of the things that he liked about it, but she always felt unwelcome warm fuzzies when he was more affectionate after a hard day or he ordered in when she mentioned she’d been too busy to eat. She kind of hated herself for developing feelings for him, but she always convinced herself it was because he was a good Dom and nothing more.

Even though she only knew tiny snippets about his life, she felt like she knew him in a different way than anyone else. He liked to pay attention to her wants, but she liked pleasing him by anticipating his needs and following his every order to the very last detail. Disappointing him was one of the worst punishments, almost worse than anything physical he could inflict, and she’d been bracing herself the entire car ride for him to lecture her.

He seemed relaxed, though. Much more than she’d expected considering how late she’d been. He gave her a small smile when he turned around. A good mood for him generally just involved more affection, but he truly seemed at ease. “Come here, sweetheart.”

The use of an petname was a good sign, and she was a little confused, considering she was supposed to be punished. She debated whether to ask about it as she walked to him, finally deciding that it was best to bring up. If anything it would absolve the twinge of guilt for keeping him waiting.

“I’m sorry I was late, Master.”

“It’s alright, love,” he whispered, steering her to look out the window and standing behind her, his hot palm splayed on her stomach, his other settled on her hip.

“Hands on the windowsill and bend over,” he ordered, and she could see him in the reflection of the glass as she obeyed, his eyes greedy as they raked over her form. “I want you to look outside while I spank you, to know that if anyone happened to glance in our direction they’d see how sweetly you submit to me.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, bending over as he’d asked, her spine curled to emphasize her ass, legs spread far enough to see that she was slick.  

“You look so lovely like this sweetheart,” he murmured, tangling her hair around his fingers. “Bent over for your Master with your legs spread, your pussy already wet with anticipation.”

“Thank you, Master.”

He tugged her hair lightly, making her core clench from the stab of arousal, a soft moan escaping her. He ran his finger along her folds, making her shiver.

“Seventeen strikes. Fifteen for being late and an additional two as promised for every minute past eight.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Don’t count today. I want to hear the hitch in your breath at every strike, the little moans you make that you try to swallow.”

She nodded, watching him in the reflection of the glass as he moved behind her, his fingertips pressing lightly against the flesh of her ass. She whimpered as he slid them down the backs of her thighs, the anticipation making her core throb. “Look outside,” he ordered, and she immediately tore her eyes away from his face, looking instead at the view. The apartment was on the sixth floor, the people below close enough that if they looked up they’d see her bent over with her forehead pressed against the cool glass, her body bare, Klaus standing behind her with a smirk.

Her heart was pounding, the anticipation and risk that someone could see them only making it hotter when his palm came down on her ass with a smack, her breath hitching, fingers curling against the windowsill. The second strike came down on the same spot, the sting making her nipples tighten, and she had to resist the urge to rub her thighs together to soothe her already intense need for friction.

He continued, pausing every two or three strikes to let her catch her breath. “I love the way you moan for me, sweetheart,” he whispered. “The little hitches of breath just before every strike, the way you arch your spine to encourage me, just begging for me to mark your arse with my palm. I know that you didn’t mean to make me wait.”

“No, Master. I wanted to see you,” she breathed, her skin heated and sensitive. She heard him chuckle softly behind her, his hand stroking down her spine lightly, her pussy throbbing from the simple light touch.

“I know. Because you like this, don’t you? You like spending the day in a constant state of anticipation, just waiting to leave so that you can give yourself to me. I’d love to know all the filthy thoughts that run through your head all day as you try to concentrate, the way you fantasize about all the ways I’ll take you later, how I’ll make you beg me for more.”

“I do, Master,” she said, taking a sharp breath when his hand landed on her ass again, the last strike making her knees wobble, her pussy clenching.

She felt his strong arm encircle her waist to steady her, the rough fabric of his trousers pressing against her sensitive core, and she couldn’t help but rub against him, desperate for friction. He laughed again, bending to kiss her shoulder lightly and standing up, gently guiding her to lean against him. “Turn,” he ordered, and she obeyed, letting her cheek rest on his shoulder as he rubbed her back before cupping her ass, the friction against the still aching skin making her whimper. “Does it hurt?”

“Mmhm.”

“Good,” he murmured, pinching her ass hard. He knew she liked it, that the pain made her pussy ache, and she moaned, fisting his shirt. “Now. I’d like to see your face when I fuck you today. Your eyes darken to such a lovely shade when you’re desperate for me.”

“Thank you, Master.”

He stepped back from her, and she shivered at the sudden lack of warmth, her nipples still tight from cold. He gave her a slow once-over, his eyes sliding down her body at a pace that made her blush, his gaze lingering on her lips, breasts, and legs before flitting back up to give her a heated look that made her feel exposed and bare. If anyone else looked at her like that she would have felt objectified and uncomfortable, but Klaus somehow made her feel like the most desirable person on the planet. She never felt insecure about how her desperation rolled off of her in waves when she was with him, knowing that he wanted her as much as she did him.

“Come,” he ordered, his voice hard but somehow affectionate, and she obediently followed him, standing in front of him as he sank down on the couch. “Undress me.”

She swallowed, highly aware of his eyes on her as she knelt at his feet, unlacing his shoe and pulling it off, setting it aside before undoing the other one, the still-sensitive skin of her ass pressing against her heels in a way that made her pussy throb whenever she shifted even the slightest bit. She glanced up at him to meet his eyes as she pulled off his socks, flushing at how he was drinking her in, his tongue darting over his lips in a way that seemed almost subconscious as he watched her every movement. She sat up higher on her knees to reach for the button and fly on his slacks, leaning into his touch as he began to card his fingers through her hair, twirling the curls around his fingers.

The room was perfectly silent aside from the rustle of clothing as she pulled down his slacks until she ran her tongue along his inner thigh. He groaned low in his throat, tugging her hair lightly, and she grinned as she dropped light kisses just above the waistband of his boxer briefs before pulling them down, keeping eye contact as she wrapped her hand around his cock, satisfied by the way his lips were parted and his breathing was uneven. He pushed her hand away. “I said undress me,” he reminded, his tone a clear warning, and she flushed.

“Sorry, Master.”

“Do you need a reminder of who you belong to?” he asked, his voice deceptively light. “I’ve been lenient today, but perhaps I shouldn’t have been. I think you’re forgetting that you touch me because I allow it, that you receive rewards on the condition that you please me.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” she repeated. “I thought since I was late you might want--”

“I want you to be a good girl for me,” he interrupted, his voice soft. “Now.”

She stood, straddling him while being careful not to give herself any contact where she wanted it most, her eyes flitting to meet his before she reached to undo his tie, unraveling the knot with sure fingers. She pulled it away and unbuttoned his shirt, resisting the urge to kiss every slip of skin as it was revealed. Once she’d tossed it aside she waited, every inch of her humming with need for his touch, for friction. She wanted to feel his skin under his fingers, to see his face as he filled her, but she managed to restrain herself, instead shifting slightly as he watched her with perceptive eyes and an infuriatingly knowing smile.

“So impatient,” he said softly, cupping her cheek, and she couldn’t help but be annoyed that his calloused palm was brushing her skin in entirely the wrong place. Her core was throbbing with need, her nipples tight and aching, and she wasn’t sure she could last much longer without begging.

It was something Klaus usually liked, but at times like these, when he seemed determined to remind her that she belonged to him, she knew that disobeying wasn’t the right move if she wanted any gratification.

And she really wanted it.

She stayed silent, shifting as his fingertips brushed along her waist with what she knew was a deliberately light touch designed to tease, and she swallowed her instinctive ‘ please ’ with difficulty, simply holding his eyes with hers.

He reached between them to stroke his cock a few times, his breath hitching, before his other hand pushed her forward to encourage her to sink onto his cock.

She moaned, trying desperately to resist the urge to let her head drop back. He’d said he wanted to see her face, and she wanted to show him she’d listened, that she cared enough to follow every order he gave her.

He moved his hips, their bodies falling into a familiar rhythm, and she laid her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as they picked up speed, his palms hot on her hips as he guided her movements. She watched his face, cataloguing every movement he made, and she felt like he was doing the same, his hands moving her hips to create just the right angle to make her shake. She fought to keep her eyes open as her high built, their movements growing faster with every moment, and her nails dug into his shoulders as he bent forward to catch her lips with his.

The kiss was biting and all-consuming, his tongue tracing the backs of her teeth and dragging across her lips. She moaned into his mouth, chasing his lips as he pulled back, his breathing ragged.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want to see you when you come,” he said sharply, just as his nails bit into the flesh of her ass and his pelvic bone pressed against her clit, and she shook against him as she came, doing her best to obey his orders even as she clenched around his cock.

He caught her lips when she came down from her high, his hips still moving quickly as he fucked her, biting hard on her lip when he spilled inside of her.

She slumped against him, her breathing hard and her body heavy. “Good girl,” he praised softly, stroking her hair a few times before he gently pushed her away. “Get up, sweetheart,” he ordered, and she pushed off of him on shaky legs, his come dripping down her thighs.

“Freshen up and get the bruise balm from the washroom,” he ordered.

She nodded, and by the time she got back with the container he had pulled his boxer briefs on and was sitting on the couch waiting for her. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She obeyed, her inner thighs still slick, and he gently helped her lie over his lap. She heard him uncap the bottle and hummed contentedly when she felt the cold cream against her skin, his hands gently rubbing it in. “You were such a good girl for me,” he praised again, continuing to murmur compliments about how he loved watching her and how pretty she looked when she came.

Her heart was still pounding with adrenaline, but his soft touches and low whispers of encouragement calmed her down. Once he was done with the cream, he encouraged her to curl in his lap, draping a blanket around them and offering her a granola bar, which she took gratefully, settling against him to eat. Once she’d finished she felt him press a soft kiss to her temple. “You did so well today, sweetheart,” he murmured, his arm tightening around her.

“Thank you, Master.”

“I’ll be a bit busy next week. It’s possible I won’t be able to make it Monday. Would you rather play over text or skip?”

“I think we should skip,” she said reluctantly. “My boss just quit and our new one is starting on Monday. That was what the office party was for. I’ll probably be busy too.”

He froze, and she looked up at him in confusion. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said after a beat of silence.

“You sure?”

“Title,” he reminded absently, his hand still rubbing her back. “And it’s nothing,” he said, though she could tell from his tone that it was something .

“Okay, Master,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning against him. She knew better than to press. He shared bits and pieces of his life with her, but he was very private by nature. She’d learned that the more she insisted he tell her what he was thinking about, the more he’d dig in his heels.

“I’ll see you on Thursday then?”

“Someone’s eager,” he said, and though she couldn’t see his face she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“For you, Master? Always,” she teased, and he chuckled, his hand ghosting over her spine, making her skin prickle.

“You always know just the right things to say, don’t you?”

“I try, Master.”

When Caroline pulled into her normal parking space on Monday she was nervous. She’d been so used to Katherine’s leadership style after five years with the company that she wasn’t sure what to expect with the new boss or how to act, especially since she’d been sick in bed during the interview process.

When she finally stepped out of the elevator on her floor, she realized that she shouldn’t have been nervous. She should have been terrified.

Klaus was standing in front of her talking to April with a dimpled smile on his face, a smile that dropped into confusion when he looked up and saw her.

“Hey, Care!” April said brightly, clearly oblivious to the sudden tension in the room before turning to Klaus. “This is Caroline. She was out with the flu when you interviewed.”

“Oh my god,” Caroline breathed, trying to process that Klaus had been hired as her new boss, that he hadn’t told her ...

“Caroline and I have met, actually,” Klaus said quickly, sending a charming smile to April. “She’s a family friend.”

“Yeah,” Caroline echoed faintly. “Family friend.”

“I had no idea this was your company,” Klaus said, and though his voice was neutral, even pleasant, she could read the way he looked at her easily and knew he was being genuine. It was a surprise to both of them, clearly.

There was a beat of silence before Caroline managed to gather herself. “Yeah. Well, welcome!” she said awkwardly. “Um, I have to put my lunch in the fridge.”

The excuse sounded lame even to her own ears, but Klaus gave her an understanding glance before she rushed in the direction of the kitchen.

Her hands were shaking as she set her sandwich on the top shelf, closing the fridge door. She knew that Klaus was trustworthy, that he’d never hurt her, but the idea of seeing him every day, of him having real genuine power over her unrelated to the power she voluntarily gave him was more than a little scary.

It was also, if she was honest with herself, more than a little hot.

She walked to her office and shut the door before dropping her purse unceremoniously at her desk and turning on her computer, her mind still racing with all the options, all the things that could go wrong and all the things that could go perfectly, deliciously right.

Life was a rich tapestry, she reflected dryly as she opened her email.

From: Klaus Mikaelson To: Caroline Forbes Subject: Meeting

Caroline,

I intend to have an individual meeting with everyone in the immediate department sometime in the next few days. Does eleven today work for you?

Best,

Klaus Mikaelson Chief Marketing Officer Silas Marshall & Co.

From: Caroline Forbes To: Klaus Mikaelson Subject: Re: Meeting

Klaus,

That sounds fine. I’ll see you at eleven.

Regards,

Caroline Forbes Marketing Director Silas Marshall & Co.

She hit ‘send’ and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes with her palms.

Her life was weird.

Caroline shut Klaus’s door behind her and sank down in the chair across from his desk. He watched her for a moment before he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice quiet but with a confidence that immediately made her feel at ease.

“I promise that you’re safe, sweetheart,” he said, searching her face. “I would never abuse your trust in me.”

“I believe you,” she said immediately. “I just...”

He knew her well enough to stay silent as she tried to find the words, and she couldn’t help the tiny flutter in her chest.

“I’m scared,” she said finally, and she was relieved when he didn’t look the least bit offended, though he did seem uncomfortable, and it took her a second to realize that he was nervous .

“If you don’t feel comfortable with our arrangement,” he began after a few seconds, but she shook her head, the words escaping her before she’d really thought them through.

“I want to keep playing,” she said, pausing for a second. “I mean, unless you don’t--”

“I want you,” he said immediately, his tone decisive.

She let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Good,” she said after a beat of silence, and he gave her a small smile, reaching to take her hand and squeezing it. He always seemed to know what she needed, and she desperately craved his comfort, even though she knew it was a little silly. Still, the simple touch made her feel better.

“I know we agreed not to play today, but perhaps you’d be amenable to meeting to talk through a new contract?”

“Sure,” she said, giving him a small smile and he gave her hand a quick squeeze before he drew back, opening one of the drawers.

“Now, I wasn’t lying when I said I was meeting with everyone about their work,” he began, pulling out a notepad and plucking a pen from the cup on his desk. She tried not to let her gaze linger on his fingers, keeping her mind from wandering to better uses for them, and he raised his eyebrows. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“I can totally be subtle,” she confirmed, purposefully being casual and slightly argumentative, wanting to establish that she was most definitely not his when they were out of play, and he grinned, his dimples cutting into his cheeks.

“Good. Now, what are you working on?”

She’d left work an hour or so after Klaus and wasn’t surprised to see him sitting at the kitchen table of their apartment, fiddling with his phone as he inspected a sheaf of paper with an intense concentration that she could tell was a cover for discomfort.

He looked up and gave her a small smile, which she took as a good sign, and she walked over and sat beside him, glancing at the packet he was flipping through and realizing it was their contract. “How do you want to start?” she asked, taking the copy he handed her and scanning it, though she could probably regurgitate the terms almost word for word, considering she had to remember all the rules.

“Tell me how you want to to function at work. I’m perfectly fine with either having some sort of play there or keeping it completely separate.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“I’d very much enjoy summoning you to my office in the middle of the day should I have the desire. Your skirts and dresses cling to you beautifully, and I know that there will be an occasion or two where I’ll want nothing more than to bend you over my desk and push the fabric around your waist. However, if the idea of that makes you uncomfortable, your feelings are infinitely more important to consider.”

She flushed, biting her lip. There was something undeniably tempting about the idea of slipping into his office during the day and letting him touch her, but she still had concerns that needed to be addressed before she could really consider it. She said that and he nodded as though he’d expected that answer, which he probably had.

“What concerns?”

“It can’t interfere with work. Ever. No pulling me out of important things for surprise sex, no punishment that would affect my performance or taking away projects or anything.”

He looked offended but managed to mask it quickly, swallowing. “Caroline, I can assure you that, should you agree to extend our arrangement, I would never let anything related to our sex life impact your work. Except perhaps rewards for exemplary performance, should you be amenable?”

She snorted. “My performance is always exemplary.”

“Perhaps to Katerina’s standards, but you’ll find I’m not as easy to impress.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” she teased. “But yes, I’m amenable .”

“Good girl,” he murmured, bending forward to kiss her softly.

She stiffened, surprised by the gesture. They obviously kissed a lot, but usually Klaus controlled it, his tongue running pleasurably against the backs of her teeth with his nails digging into her sides. This was different though, the brush of his lips sweet and tender, and by the time she finally gathered herself enough to kiss him back he was pulling away, his eyes dark and wanting.

“Also,” she said, hating herself for how breathy her voice was after a simple kiss. “Any raises or promotions I get are because I earned them. I don’t want you giving me things because we’re play partners.”

“If your performance is as exemplary as you’ve implied, I don’t believe that would be a problem,” he teased, his lips twitching when he saw the ‘ Seriously?’ look on her face. “But regardless, I promise that any benefits you receive will be fairly earned. On that note, I won’t go easy on you, either. No amount of begging will get you out of work-related trouble.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said without missing a beat. If anything he’d be harder on her, possibly unintentionally. Klaus already trusted her, which meant that he’d probably let her do her job with less supervision and expect more.

“Good,” he said, writing the new rules on his contract. “And I know you’re clever enough to understand why we would not communicate through our office emails?”

She tried not to be offended by the question, knowing that he was just covering his bases. “Obviously.”

“Good girl,” he murmured with another heated glance. “Now, I know it’s a bit late, and I was wondering if you might be willing to go out for dinner instead of our normal routine?”

They’d gone to dinner in play before, but they’d always planned ahead. Klaus liked to buy her dresses that he could easily push aside while they were waiting for appetizers, and he would tell her a few days in advance. It was also a bit of an abrupt shift to a scene, which was a little odd.

She didn’t mind at this point though, acutely aware of how hungry she was, and she nodded. “Yes, Master. I’d like that.”

She saw his jaw tighten as though she’d said the wrong thing, and she frowned. “Is everything okay, Master?”

His expression softened immediately, and he stood, offering a hand to help her up and pulling her flush against his chest and giving her a biting, passionate kiss that made her melt. “Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured between kisses, his hand tangled in her hair. “You’re perfect.”

Caroline smiled when she saw the package on her doorstep when she got home. She’d ordered some new blouses a few days before, and it was always nice when things came early. Humming to herself, she unlocked her door and walked inside, kicking off her shoes and tearing into the package. When she saw the cream box inside she knew that it wasn’t the blouses she’d ordered, and when she opened it, she found a simple card bearing her name in familiar calligraphy lying on top of powder blue lace.

She lifted the card out of the box and traced the letters with the tip of her finger, unable to fight down a smile. Klaus had sent her a few things in the six months he’d been working at the office, and she always liked it, the knowledge that he knew exactly what she was wearing under her work clothes, was undressing her in his mind every time he saw her, was a huge high.

She lifted the lingerie set out of the box to look at it, the lace so delicate that she worried it would rip if she handled it too harshly.

[Caroline]: Thank you for the present, Master.

[Klaus]: Try them on.

She undressed quickly, pulling on the delicate lace garters slowly so as not to rip them and hooking together the belt over the thong before adjusting her bra. When she glanced in the mirror, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to see that it fit perfectly, the blue scalloped lace against her creamy skin a contrast that she knew would photograph beautifully.

[Klaus]: Do they fit?

[Caroline]: Yes, Master.

[Klaus]: Show me.

She hurried to her bed, lying down and carefully snapping a few selfies, making sure to get the perfect angle so that he’d see the curve of her breasts and the way the lace of the thong and garter belt framed her ass, her lips parted slightly as she looked at the camera. She was getting wet just from the anticipation of taking pictures, of knowing that he would see them and they’d make him hard for her.

[Klaus]: You’re beautiful, sweetheart.

[Caroline]: Thank you, Master.

[Klaus]: Wear them tomorrow. I want to watch you walk around the office knowing that if I were to push your pretty skirt up and fill you with my cock I’d see that you wore your present just for me.

[Klaus]: And of course I do intend to follow through tomorrow night. I can’t wait to peel every stitch of fabric away. Perhaps I’ll tie you up while I do it. You know how I love it when you beg for my touch.

She knew she was wet, and she resisted the urge slide her hand between her thighs, knowing that Klaus would know if she touched herself without asking when they were playing.

[Caroline]: I will, Master.

[Klaus]: Good girl.

[Klaus]: Do you want to touch yourself?

[Caroline]: Yes, Master.

[Klaus]: Call me. I want to hear you.

She’d never dialed his number so quickly.

“Bonnie, call legal and check on the progress to clear the new campaign. We don't want another near-copyright infringement."

“Got it,” Bonnie said, nodding once and writing something on her tablet.

“Caroline, go over the deliverables we got yesterday. Bring me a few options this afternoon. Two o’clock.”

His tone sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, her nipples pebbling under her bra.

“Yes, M--” she started, the kneejerk response so natural to his commanding tone that she barely realized she had to cover it and changed course quickly. “Um, will do.”

The twitch of his lips and the heated glance he gave her made her blush as she realized that he knew exactly what she’d almost let slip. “Good,” he said, turning to Matt, but before he could talk, Anna poked her head in, giving Klaus an apologetic glance.

“I have Silas on the phone for you.”

Caroline winced. The CEO was...a dick, and that was if she was putting it nicely.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Donovan, email me your report.”

Matt nodded, already picking up his tablet. They all filed out, Caroline heading straight for her office, her heels clicking on the floor.

She tried to concentrate on her work instead of the humiliation she’d barely avoided, and managed to get sucked in enough that she had everything ready by the time it was two o’clock. The nerves came back as she made her way to his office though. She doubted he’d be angry, but there was a little nervous piece of her that was scared she disappointed him.

She felt all the tension leave her when she walked in and Klaus looked at her in a way that made her melt, his dimples cutting into his cheeks.

“Close the door behind you, love.”

She did, taking a seat on the other side of his desk and watching as he closed the shades to the hallway, obscuring his office from the view of anyone who might peek in. Her heartbeat seemed unnaturally loud to her as he walked to sit down in his chair, his lips quirking when they made eye contact. “Do refrain from calling me by my title in public, sweetheart. Though I know perfectly well you enjoy a bit of exhibitionism, I’d rather not have someone file a complaint to HR.”

“Ha,” she said sarcastically, trying to suppress the flush rising in her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to. It just sort of...came out? Well, almost came out.”

“I’ll let it go this once,” he said, his voice teasing, and she gave him a rueful smile.

“In my defense, it’s super hot when you use your commanding boss voice.”

“Duly noted,” he said, his tone dropping, and she bit her lip, flushing. As much as she wanted to take a nice break, she knew she had work to do, and she said so, noting Klaus’s reluctant nod. “Yes, I’m aware. Perhaps if you do an excellent job we can find the time for some rewards later?”

“If that’s what you want, Master,” she said, giving him a heated look before standing up and grabbing her cardigan, pulling it on. “Especially since I followed your orders from last night.”

His eyes darkened. “Did you?”

She walked around his desk and glanced over her shoulder to make sure the shades were drawn before hiking her skirt up enough for him to see the blue lace garter around her thigh, giving him only a glimpse of the lace strap before she smoothed her skirt back down. “I’ll just keep you posted on my progress.”

“Tease,” he muttered, but there wasn’t any bite to it, and she grinned as he gave her an obvious once over, his eyes lingering on where her pencil skirt clung to her hips as he clearly imagined what was beneath them. “Show me tonight.”

“Tonight,” she echoed, looking back at him over her shoulder, and she pushed down a flush at the heated look full of promise that he sent her before she shut the door behind her.

It was only when she shut her office door that the realization hit. It had been a long time since she’d been so happy.

She tried not to let her thoughts wander too much as she sat back down at her desk, doing her best to focus on answering her bazillion emails, but every time she got even the slightest bit distracted she was brought back to Klaus.

To be fair, she’d known that she liked him, but she felt like the deeper feelings for him that she held had somehow snuck up on her. She tried to imagine her life without him, and the second she had she knew that she wouldn’t like it. There was something about her realization that was exciting and new and uplifting, but it was also terrifying. She was almost one hundred percent sure he felt the same way, but there was always that doubt that she could never seem to shed about other people’s feelings for her.

She knew Klaus wanted her. He’d made that clear with every glance, every word he spoke. But did he love her?

She was shaken from her thoughts by a sharp knock on the door.

“Come in!”

“Can you get the door?” Anna asked, her voice muffled through the door, and Caroline immediately got up to let her in, reaching for the coffee she knew was waiting on the other side. “One triple-shot vanilla latte,” Anna said cheerfully, handing it over.

“Thanks so much,” Caroline said, setting it on her desk and going through her purse for her wallet, handing Anna a five, which she pocketed.

“No problem! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, so I figured you probably needed it.”

Caroline groaned. “Ugh, you have no idea. The Parker deal is a mess.”

Anna made a sympathetic noise. “Do you at least have any fun plans tonight?”

“Not really,” Caroline lied, knowing that mentioning how she was planning on putting on an elaborate striptease for her boss that would probably result in a spanking for drawing it out too long was not the greatest idea.

“Oh. That’s too bad. Jeremy and I are going out to dinner. Should be nice. It took awhile to find somewhere that had a decent pre-set menu, but we figured it out.”

Caroline frowned. “Pre-set menu?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh,” Caroline said slowly. “Right.”

“Klaus is being kind of a nightmare about it. He’s planning this huge thing for his girlfriend.”

Caroline’s eyes snapped up. “Girlfriend?”

Anna nodded, either not noticing Caroline’s reaction or assuming she wanted the gossip. “Yeah. He ordered some jewelry and a dress for her and had me pick them up before I came to work. They’re both gorgeous.”

The dirty cheating liar...

She tried to keep a look of polite interest on her face as she took another sip of coffee even as her mind raced. “That’s a nightmare?”

“Oh, it wasn’t just that. I made a reservation for him at this French restaurant downtown and ordered some flowers. He kept changing his mind about where he wanted to go. He also had me book plane tickets, a hotel, and a car for a vacation to Italy this weekend. If I hadn’t seen the necklace I would have bet my life savings that it was a proposal.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Caroline asked, trying to sound more sympathetic than curious.

Anna seemed to mull over the question before shrugging. “I mean...not often . He’s had me pick up a few other presents for her, and I’ve made some dinner and hotel reservations. Usually it’s pretty last minute. I guess they both must be really busy. He talks about her in passing sometimes and it’s obvious that he’s trash for her. He’s also had dumb guy questions. You know, like, ‘I want to get a purse as a present but know nothing about purses. Here are seven options, please help.’”

“I can’t imagine Klaus ever saying, ‘please help.’”

Anna snorted. “I mean, he doesn’t say it like that . I don’t know. He’s usually really specific about his girlfriend, but sometimes he’ll be like ‘I need a present for a generic snobby woman. Buy a designer item and leave the tag on.’”

Caroline barely stopped herself from muttering ‘ Rebekah ’ under her breath. “Do you remember his girlfriend’s name?”

Anna laughed. “What, to Instagram-stalk her? I tried to look through his social media stuff, but I couldn’t find her. I thought he had a wife named Rebekah, but I’m 99% sure she’s his sister. If you do manage to figure it out though, let me know.”

Caroline nodded, making a few more minutes of small talk to keep from being obvious, though her mind was racing around Klaus being a cheating dick the entire time. As she made her way back to her office she pulled out her phone to text him, and she barely shut the door before he responded.

[Caroline]: Are we still on for tonight?

[Klaus]: Of course, love.

[Klaus]: Unless there’s a reason to cancel?

[Caroline]: I mean, I don’t know. You tell me.

[Klaus]: I’m unsure what you’re implying, sweetheart.

[Caroline]: Anna said you had a date with your girlfriend

[Caroline]: Which is weird, since you never mentioned her.

[Klaus]: I’d like you to come to my office. Now.

Caroline huffed, glancing out the window at the mid-afternoon sky. Should she go? What kind of explanation could he have? It hurt that he hadn’t told her about his girlfriend. Sure, they’d never officially promised to be exclusive, but she’d assumed. She hated the idea of being a dirty secret, and the knowledge that she’d fallen for him thinking they had a chance and he’d never felt the same was a punch to the stomach.

Still, she was ridiculously curious.

Unable to fight the temptation and knowing she’d have to face him soon or later, she left her office, walking down the hall to Klaus’s office and heading inside without knocking, shutting the door behind her. He was sitting at his desk, his hands folded, jaw set. Her spine straightened as he met her eyes, his expression hard and unforgiving.

“Sit,” he said softly, though his tone was dangerous. She didn’t, standing behind the chair pointedly with her fingers curled around the back.

“No.”

He closed his eyes briefly as though in pain, and silently reached for his top desk drawer, pulling out a package wrapped in silver wrapping paper, a tastefully curled ribbon wrapped around it, and set it in his desk. “It’s what I had Anna pick up. I assume that’s who told you?”

“Yeah. You don’t get to be mad at her though, because—“

“Open it,” he interrupted, his eyes never leaving her face.

She shot him a suspicious glance but picked up the box, carefully unwrapping the paper and biting her lip when she saw the brand stamped on the box. She opened it with shaking fingers, blinking at the diamond pendant on the delicate silver chain she found.

“Klaus...”

“Turn it over.”

She glanced at him warily before obeying, her breath catching slightly at what she found. The silver setting was thick enough for an engraving, and she gave him a sheepish look when she saw the date she’d agreed to be his. “There isn’t a girlfriend.”

“I was hoping there would be, come tonight,” he said quietly, and it took her a second to process his meaning.

“You...you want to like, date? Me, I mean?”

He chuckled, giving her an exasperated glance. “Yes. I’ve wanted to for a long time. I was going to ask after I started my job and got settled in, but then...”

“But then I worked here and foiled your evil plans.”

“Indeed.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. Although, in my defense, it did sound suspicious.”

“I have no doubt that it did. Still, it was rather rude of you.”

“If you’re trying to get me to let you spank me over your desk, it’s not happening today. I’m really busy on the deal with Parker.”

“Not at all, love. I’d rather let you wonder what your punishment will be at the end of the day.”

She bit her lip. “Just so you know, I’m not interested in a 24/7 thing. If that’s going to be a problem...”

“It is not. I look forward to eventually seeing every part of you. I want to see you kneel at my feet like a good girl begging to suck your Master’s cock as much as I want to wake up next to you the next morning and have you moan my name as you writhe against my tongue demanding more. I want to collect the wicked smiles I’ve seen so often when you speak, to sketch the way your spine straightens with barely-restrained irritation when someone doesn’t quite meet your expectations. Your willingness to let me bend you over the desk and stain your arse red with my palm is satisfying for me, of course, but I know from our time in the office that your uninhibited wit and fire is just as gratifying as the deference you choose to show me when we’re alone.”

“Did you write bad love poetry in high school? Because I feel like you did.”

Klaus gave her a look that if they were in play would make her wince, but since they weren’t she was highly tempted to poke the dragon.

“I’ll spare you the genuine compliments then,” he said dryly, and she laughed.

“It’s okay. I like it when you praise my awesomeness.”

“Mmm. I’ve noticed your penchant for praise.”

“It makes me feel wanted,” she said matter-of-factly, leaning into him. “ You make me feel wanted.”

He gave her a dimpled grin, his hand skating down her side to settle on her hip, his palm warm through the thin fabric of her skirt. "Good."

"We do need matching stories though, because Meredith is going to sit us down and chew us out for not telling her sooner."

"Already thinking about how to break it to HR?" Klaus asked dryly, and Caroline snorted.

"I mean, my preferred strategy would be tell her and then immediately retreat for at least a day."

He laughed. “Fancy a vacation, then?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she teased, and his face abruptly turned serious, his hand cupping her cheek.

“Compliments aside, know that I do love you, Caroline. I want you in my life for as long as you choose to stay.”

She swallowed audibly, the earnestness in his expression making her heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted him to say it until she heard it, and it was only when she realized he was staring at her clearly expecting her to say something that she gave him a huge smile, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back to look at him.

“I love you too.”

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline drabble #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline smut #goldcaught #mydrabbles #otp: annoyingly perfect #my fanfiction #klarolinevalentines

[sixmorningsafter]

A Thesis on Chapter 13

Despite all the almost sexy times last chapter, I think this is my favorite so far. There are less “I don’t know you”, “who do you think you are”, “can you just leave me alone” vibes but that doesn’t mean everything (or everyone) is comfortable.

A/N: LMAO this thesis is the greatest thing that’s ever happened, I’m dying. Is there a more appropriate way to review the rambliest fic in the known universe? Always adore your feedback and this is no exception, and I can’t stress enough how happy/giddy I was reading over this and seeing how much thought you put into it, man. Ugh. Cassie’s such a doll, y’all.

Anyway, onto the chapter: lmaoooo not even remotely comfortable, but yessss, the tone is definitely less belligerent and more so just unsettled (at least for Bamon) in 13. Stefan and Caroline were probably more intimate in 12 but hey, every action has an equal an opposite reaction, ja feel? Reality checks await. 

Putting the rest under a cut because your glorious long-windedness combined with mine is a chapter in and of itself. 

Bonnie: I like her introspection a lot, and I can relate to it (I too try to check myself before wrecking myself). I like that she’s hyper aware of the latent anger and her tendency to hide it away ‘cause then its hidden from her. 

I love how she thinks Damon might possibly feel violated by her advances the previous night. Girl, please. And lol “magical fucking reverse-dementor”? Gold.

Oblivious Bonnie. Oh, the hilarity.

A/N: She’s a mess, but she’s trying. I think much like Caroline, she’s convinced that if she drops her guard and removes the tight lid she keeps on parts of herself, disaster will strike, and I think much like Stefan, Damon’s going to play a part in proving that’s not what’s going to happen. Obviously a major difference is Bonnie keeps the lid on to protect others (friends, etc) from jagged parts of herself and Caroline’s is more self-preserving. And LMAO yeah needless to say, Damon’s not feeling particularly violated but bless Bonnie.

Baroline: Bless you. I like this scene a lot. Bonnie tackling a sleeping Caroline; Caroline being a “ferocious blanket monster”– love it. As a writer, it’s a gold mine ‘cause you can casually throw in some flashbacks, but as a reader, it’s a gold mine 'cause you get casually thrown into a fuller picture of who Caroline is– a force to be reckoned with, especially when it comes to the people she holds close. God, I live for Bonnie telling Caroline she came out of one of the worst situations as a “goddam warrior”–ugh, slay me.

Baroline + Tyler feels, love it.

Lol at the “messes” exchange. This is me and any of my best friends lol. Headcanon: Baroline gets messes forever as their matching bff tattoos. 

A/N: YAY, Baroline feels! I really wanted to balance out their relationship since so much of the last chapter was Caroline’s side of it, and given that Bonnie was in a ‘fuck everyone’ state it was lopsided, so writing out that scene and having Bonnie assume the role of Caroline’s no. 1 fan felt necessary. So glad the little moments and flashbacks painted a more detailed picture! I think we’ll see more of that ferocious friend side of Caroline in the upcoming chapters, when there are dinners to plan and she’s back in work mode and stuff. I have a fun scene planned where Stefan’s getting pushback on a work call and Caroline sort of snatches the phone and works her magic. And YES, #messesforever tattos! All the Tyler cameos. 

Stefan: The trademarked “Fix It” with the “associated apology tour”, that made me laugh.

I liked that Bonnie knows Stefan has callouses for her lashing out, 'cause he’s literally like, welp that wasn’t so bad.

Again, Stefan acknowledging Damon is more than meets the eye is good. I think it’s funny how he has these unrealistic views of people, but he also doesn’t, like when it comes to Damon. I suppose it’s just the women in his life. Unfortunately, his “Caroline is a partially ajar door” epiphany struck me as correct, but only as a reader, I would know that. I kind of like watching Stefan sort himself out. Idk if you made a Stefonnie parallel on purpose, but both are introspective in a very academic way. Unlike Daroline who are equally introspective but built a stone armour around themselves, Stefonnie built, like, a two-way glass armour, you know? God, Stefan would probably hate me for turning him into a metaphor ;p

“People weren’t tropes”, Stefan says as Gabi writes him as a trope. I literally said aloud, “ah the not-trope trope” lol. But I like that he’s self-aware. Unlike canon, where it seems like he embraces the Hero Hair wholeheartedly.

Ooo, such a great point - Stefan and Bonnie definitely take a much more logical approach to analyzing themselves than Caroline or Damon, who are like captains of the National Deflect Team. I think Stefonnie both have lowkey hero complexes and that might factor into it a bit: Bonnie fucks up and her first thought upon waking up is ‘fix it fix all of it’ - she’s more concerned about the people she might’ve affected last night than herself. So she rationally dissects everything she did and figures out the best strategy for making it better (though notice she doesn’t actually come up with a strategy for fixing her coping mechanisms). Stefan wakes up and rationalizes the fuck out of him and Caroline while downplaying the fact that hey, bud, regardless of all this rational mumbo jumbo, you felt something last night. You felt something tighten in you when she put the wall back up. You didn’t like it. So yeah, they’re both a little fake mature in that sense, like they think they’re taking the high road or being logical but they’re also kind of denying reality a bit in the process. And then there’s Daroline, lololol, who’re just like ‘sitting down to critically analyze our problems sounds like a GREAT conversation and all but here’s another suggestion: flinging ourselves off a bridge’. 

Stefonnie: Like that ask you answered, I didn’t know how much I needed Stefonnie until this scene. I really like how Bonnie’s approach to her Steroline apologies are to wrap them in light scenarios (like the stories about Caroline and Shark Week with Stefan).

And their hug, how fucking sweet. 

God, I love how awkward both of them are when it comes to discussing their currently lowkey romantic ships. Lol, like I tweeted in response to Bonnie’s “I just hope it wasn’t too tense”, it was too intense (har har, I’m funny). And Stefan’s “hope it wasn’t too carnal”, I loved this word choice–thank you. And their stumbling over their own words with one another, like in this “you’re my bestie I can’t lie to you” kind of way.

The parallel, seen in the end, with Stefonnie being clueless when it comes to the romantic ships has me screaming. Wake up people! 

A/N: Stefan and Bonnie are totally the clueless problematic cinnamon rolls of this fic, man. Like I know Bonnie has a dark side, but they’re both still such naive koalas, it’s so dumb. So glad you caught the ‘I can’t lie to you’ vibe between them because I was totally going for that - they never explicitly lied but they definitely skirted around the truth, and as you’ll see especially from Stefan in 14, he really doesn’t like it. It’s not their style. Especially given their loaded history with Bonnie cutting him off and trying to leave him out of a whole part of her life - they’re not fans of not telling each other stuff. So yeah, that tension’s definitely there, but sandwiched between some fluff that I’m so glad you liked!

Steroline: YES I KNEW IT WAS A SEX PRE-COITAL CONTRACT AGREEMENT. And I think you should take that as a compliment 'cause its so characteristic of Caroline.

Lol at “how would we go about tracking our decibel levels”? Like how did she even come up with the right decibel levels? Like, as writers, we look up some crazy shit, but as Caroline, I feel like her research history is… more than abundant. 

“Would we be doing zumba on the side”, fucking Stefan lmfao. Idk if you watched the canon Steroline proposal, but he has this roundabout way of proposing, saying something like, I was thinking you’d wear this ring or whatever, and I think its interesting how this SMA line kinda parallels to that canon one, in terms of Stefan’s silly side (which is a rarity in canon). Like I feel like Paul insisted doing the proposal his way.

Stefan is such a dope. Like when Caroline is “demonstrating”, and he’s like “probably should’ve seen that coming”. Ugh, this dummy.

A/N: Caroline’s so extra it’s unreal. Like sometimes when I write her and I want to incorporate her more anal-retentive side, I have to literally stop for five minutes and just think up ridiculous shit. I’m the least detail-oriented/list-making person on earth so I basically have an out-of-body experience whenever I write Caroline, lololol - it’s a ton of fun, though. I really wanted to make that moment a canon nod to Stefan finding her control-freak side amusing/endearing. In SMA, he didn’t really know that side of her before they were snowed-in (it was sort of buried under the general frostiness and party girl persona), so I think it makes her feel more human to him. He likes catching glimpses of the real her. And yessss, hahaha, SMA Stefan is definitely like taking all of canon Stefan’s silly/trolly moments and just condensing them into the whole character. I kind of feel like without all of the vampire and Damon/Katherine nonsense in his life, though, Stefan would’ve been a much lighter, sassier person, so who knows. Totally a dope, though.  

Bamon: Bonnie’s sex fantasies– FINALLY. As canon Damon would say, “Glad to see you’ve boarded this train to crazy town, Bonnie Bennett” (yes I looked this up, no I have no regrets).  

Damon’s reaction to Bonnie’s apology is good lol. I like this. With Stefonnie and Baroline, it was teary-eyes and heartfelt-ness, and then there’s Damon. She connected with a stranger (in more ways than one), and she's just trying her best. Lol.

I didn’t realize this until Bonnie points it out, but I like that she recognized how self-centered their personal conversation had been. How she twisted everything about like it was a competition.

Lol the “can we just forget this happened” conversation is hilarious. It reminds me of when Defan are talking about the space heater, and Damon keeps toying with Stefan LOL. Idk if you intended that parallel, but its golden.

Ugh and I love how she’s like, “last night she’d be tangled up with a street kid”. I like that realization, 'cause it was kind of one for me too. Like, Damon looks like a babe, but Bonnie’s got him pegged.

A/N: Love all of these insights so much! So on point. ‘And then there’s Damon’ should really just be his tagline, I feel like. He’s kind of a constant question mark/occasional pleasant surprise in general to everyone, but to Bonnie, he’s proving a total wildcard. Majorly throwing her off her typical routine, slipping right under that stubbornly even-kiln skin - she really is just trying her best to adjust to it, lololol. But once again, she’s using suppressing techniques to do it, and if 12 should’ve taught her anything, it’s that he’s not afraid to poke through that. You’ll see her hit a much more comedic breaking point in 14 and some long-time-coming stuff comes out of it. And re: the Defan parallel, I didn’t really think about that but it’s totally true - Damon’s just a giant troll. I think his conversations with Stefan and Bonnie will usually have similar tones in that he’s this boundary-less shit-starter dealing with people who are used to having civilized, tactful interactions with people, vs. with Caroline, she’s just as blunt as he is so it’s much more abrasive-with-an-undercurrent-of-affection. 

Damon: So his line “I heard you loud and clear about last night, kid” (and okay, his insisting on calling her kid, as like a way to, idk, distance himself from her, for her sake and probably his own, is so deflating for me, 'cause they’re getting somewhere and then they’re not) is so telling. Just so very telling. “But she’d literally looked like she was going to crawl out of her skin whenever he was near her… He didn’t love it.” Honey, your need for affection is showing. Annoying? Yeah, annoying how you won’t admit you have a crush on her.

The scene with his reflection, even if it was only a snapshot of the past, it was good. So, idk if you do this on purpose, but the way you reveal Damon’s story is wildly different from the other three, and it’s very consist with his character. And it’s well written. Very, very good job. Oh, and reverting back to that line “pointless”. Mmmmm my poor baby.

Awww, haven’t heart this interpretation of kid yet! Could totally see some merit to it - I think it’s definitely telling of an unusual endearment Damon’s starting to feel for her, one that (despite how sexual their relationship got last chapter and the undercurrent of it this chapter) has surprisingly little to do with sex and more to do with this spunky, weird, stubborn, complicated little thing who keeps surprising him. Even if there is any intent to create distance (and maybe subconsciously there is), I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t stop calling her that even if they were together. And lmao re: his ‘annoyance’ with her aversion to him - not obvious at all, right? Everyone in this story is so dumb idk why I write it. 

Re: different writing strategies, I actually got a really cool ask about this from someone about the couples, and I think it’s the same deal where it just naturally happens? Like Damon lives stubbornly in the present, he doesn’t care what happens tomorrow or what happened yesterday, so having him go down long mental meanders through memory lane just doesn’t come out of my fingers, you know? His reveals kind of come in quick flashes - bursts of dialogue or action that only last as long as it takes him to recognize what he’s doing and pivot away from it. I know this fic is technically third person, but I write it a lot like a first person PoV (not really italicizing thoughts, writing the descriptions with run-on sentences and fragments like dialogue), so I feel like because of that, I naturally shift my style a bit for every character’s head. You’ll definitely get more Damon reveals up ahead, though - a lot of the Bamon dynamic has been focused on Bonnie in the past few chapters, but as that gets more under control, Ms. Fix It hasn’t gone anywhere, and she’s going to start putting some of the spotlight back on him. Her finding his wallet in the sneak peek is kind of the start of that. 

Daroline: LMFAO. You already know about my Daroline brotp feelings, so I’ll keep this short. Besides the hilarity that is defensive Caroline and shitstarter Damon, I really like that, because of their history, Damon’s first real sincere moment is with Caroline. Like, he prods and jokes about stuff with Bonnie and Stefan, but he’s not being helpful. With Caroline, though, he’s doing the friend thing.

Again, you probably did this on purpose, but I can’t help to point it out: Daroline knowing there’s something going on within the romantic ships has me geeking out. 

Yay, Daroline! I get way too much satisfaction from writing two characters who started off as explicitly sexual having entirely non-romantic emotional beats and becoming ain’t shit friends. I feel like in a way, it’s almost a little necessary in a fic like this, because otherwise every sexual relationship I’m writing leads to love and I really don’t think that’s true. I think it’s super possible for casual sex to be exactly that, and I think Daroline kind of spits in the face of the idea that two people who have been or are physically attracted to each other can’t be friends. Of course they can be. Sex and love are different. Sex is instant, easy. Love is layered af. And on the converse of that, we have Stefonnie as the ‘guys and girls can absolutely be best friends’ PSA, so yeah, I think the m/f brotps help balance the fic a bit. 

Defan:

God, it’s a great time just watching these idiots. “Steffy bear and I are getting married.“ Defan = Major/Ravi feelings. There’s only this scene at the end, but it’s really fun and there’s no drama between them, so it’s wholeheartedly silly.

Total Major/Ravi vibes! So glad you’re digging them - I haven’t had a chance to do a ton with them so far (outside of little beats here and there and references to offscreen/page bonding) but I’m definitely going more into Defan soon - they open up chapter 14 and it’s super fun/introduces some dynamic shifts for them. I think I get way too much of a kick out of making the most problematic canon ships the least problematic in this AU, lmao.

Bonus Round– the "Kai” scene: It strikes me as seriously mental of Bonnie to think she could face Kai on her own. Like, okay, so he may not be a serial killer, but he’s still fucking creepy! (though I love it tbh). I love Steroline’s protectiveness over Bonnie (“Yeah, I don’t know what kind of hangover brain she’s on, but you’re absolutely going with her”). Damon’s hardcore acting as the disgustingly affection bf (“It’s so cute it makes even us cringe”). Bonnie’s deadfish acting.

LMAO Bonnie’s definitely got some priorities to sort out. And yay, so glad you liked protective Steroline - I think it’s fun to make them so at odds about so many things and then suddenly when Bonnie’s the subject boom, team up. Damon’s affectionate boyfriend act is only going to get worse after some things that go down in 14, and Bonnie’s deadfish isn’t going to fool anyone. More apeshit Kai ahead!

Okay, I copy and pasted this into a Word doc, and it’s a full 5 pages. Yikes. I’m done. You’re amazing, bless you, continue doing the good Lord’s work, amen. <3, Cassandra

LMAOOOOO five pages of GLORY. I seriously can’t tell you how much I appreciate your super detailed, thoughtful, hilarious reviews - in fact, it took me this long to answer because I was like ‘I need to find a time where I can sit down and write a thesis back’. You’re amazing, bless you, continue doing the good Lord’s work, amen. <3 Gabi

#review #13 #six mornings after #sma steroline #sma bamon #such amazing insights here man #reply #submission