#says every fourteen year old

Chapters: 7/12 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: T Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell

* * *

CHAPTER 7

The sound of clustered piano notes rings through the empty rehearsal hall as Beca is pushed up against the piano. She moans at the feeling and fumbles behind her to find the fallboard, bringing it down to cover the keys. Chloe’s hands bracket her hips where they rest on the lid, and Beca brings her own hands up to tangle in Chloe’s hair.

They really hadn’t meant to start this in the rehearsal hall. It’s just, Chloe had borrowed a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off from Beca, and she looked really good in it. And Beca maybe hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from the way Chloe’s ass looked in the leggings she was wearing, which Chloe had definitely noticed and used to her advantage. And when all the other girls cleared out pretty quickly after Aubrey called it a day, Beca just couldn’t help herself from stealing a kiss before heading back to her room….

Except one kiss had led to many kisses, and now Beca was seriously questioning why she ever thought leaving Chloe to go home was ever a good idea.

Beca bites down lightly on Chloe’s bottom lip, to which she is rewarded with a small whimper. Chloe separates from Beca with a gasp to catch her breath, and Beca takes advantage of the moment of weakness to flip their positioning, pushing Chloe’s hips into the piano with her own. She smirks at the surprise on the other girl’s face and starts on the task of kissing Chloe’s neck.

Chloe’s still breathing heavily as she brings her hands up to hold the back of Beca’s head to keep her close. Beca doesn’t mind one bit and nips at Chloe’s thudding pulse point. Chloe inhales sharply and tilts her head farther to the side.

Beca can’t help but smile against smooth skin for a moment because she can’t believe that this is actually her reality right now. For the last two weeks, they’ve been doing this- this being making out whenever they got the chance. They hadn’t put a label on what they were yet, which Beca was fine with; she knew that she liked Chloe, and that Chloe liked her, and that’s she really needed at this point in time.

Plus, if they put a label on it they would probably have to start telling people that they were together, and Beca didn’t want to pop the bubble they were in just yet.

“Bec,” Chloe breathes out, and Beca feels the hands in her hair pull slightly to direct her back into another kiss. Beca grins into the kiss, and soon the two of them are essentially just pressing their smiles against each other. Chloe pulls back with a giggle. “What prompted that?”

Beca raises an eyebrow at Chloe’s coy tone of voice. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Beale,” she tells her, reaching down to rest a hand over the swell of Chloe’s butt. Chloe gasps in fake surprise.

“I would never use my feminine figure for my own personal benefit,” Chloe claims teasingly. Beca just hums in reply and leans in to steal a few more kisses before pulling back altogether, sitting down on the piano bench.

Chloe pushes away from the piano to join her on the bench and Beca uncovers the keys once more. She puts her foot on the pedal and tinkers around on the instrument, not really playing anything in particular; just letting her fingers take her wherever they want to go.

“How can you just play without having any sort of music like that?” Chloe asks beside her after a moment, sounding amazed. Beca glances at her out of the corner of her eye.

“I dunno,” she shrugs, shifting her left hand down an octave. “It’s something that I’ve always just been able to do, I guess.” Beca arpeggiates up the piano, crossing her left hand over her right a couple times to play in the upper register of the piano. She smirks at Chloe. “Years of practice helps, too.”

Chloe shakes her head a little with a chuckle. “Show off,” she admonishes good-naturedly while she continues to watch Beca play.

They remain silent for a couple minutes while Beca makes up with a soft melody. Chloe is the first one to speak again. “I wish you could make us a new set list,” she whispers, almost as if she doesn’t want Beca to hear.

Beca hears her loud and clear, though, and immediately stops playing. She turns to look straight on at Chloe, who’s biting her lip with uncertainty. “Do you really mean that?”

Chloe hesitates for a moment before nodding. “What we’re doing now isn’t working, and I feel like you could come up with something way better.”

“Well, I mean, I definitely can,” Beca snorts. “It’s not hard to come up with something better than ‘The Sign’.” Chloe squints at her slightly, and Beca flushes and hurries to amend herself. “Which, you sound great in, by the way, but you have to admit it’s a little dated.”

Chloe’s fake glare dissipates and she lets out a chuckle. “No, you’re definitely not wrong,” she sighs, looking down and reaching out to poke at the piano keys in front of her. “I just wish there was something we could do to make us better.”

“There is, you know,” Beca says, and Chloe turns to look at her again with curiosity in her eyes. “You’re a captain, too, Chlo. You could get Aubrey to change the set.”

Chloe shakes her head. “I couldn’t do that to her,” she says quickly. “That would-”

“Stress her out, I know,” Beca finishes for her, rolling her eyes. “I still think it’s worth a shot, but you can do what you think is best, I guess. If you ever do decide that you want to challenge Aubrey, just know that I’ll be in your corner.”

Chloe seems to soften at this. “Thank you, that means a lot, actually,” she says gently. “And hey,” she nudges Beca’s shoulder, “I’ll always have your back, too.”

Beca smiles at her in gratitude for a moment before turning forward to start pecking at the piano again. She glances over at Chloe when she feels her eyes still on her. “What?”

“Since when do you care about the Bellas so much?” Chloe asks, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Beca scoffs and looks back at the piano. “I don’t.”

Chloe’s hands reach out to take Beca’s hands, stilling them. “Oh, but you totally do!” Chloe says excitedly, a wide grin stretching across her lips.

“I don’t care about anything,” Beca grumbles, pouting.

Chloe giggles and places a quick peck on Beca’s cheek. “Sure you don’t, grumpy.”

Beca doesn’t want to tell her that she actually doesn’t care about the Bellas all that much. Sure, they’ve somehow become some of her closest friends, but she still isn’t invested in them enough to care if they move on after semi-finals or not. Yet, Beca does want them to be better, because Chloe wants them to. Beca couldn’t care less what happened to the Bellas for herself, but deep down she knew that they had to do well for Chloe’s sake.

But that would be too cheesy to say out loud.

“Whatever,” she says instead, ignoring the victorious look in Chloe’s eyes. “Want to learn how to play a song?”

The loud, excited noise that Chloe responds with is enough to make Beca flinch, but she can’t help but smile at the other girl’s enthusiasm. She helps Chloe place her hands where they’re supposed to go and slowly begins to teach her an easy song, ignoring the fact that she’s pretty much already completely head over heels for the girl sitting next to her.

* * *

Beca looks out hopefully into the audience. It’s her first concert as a freshman in high school, and to say that she was excited would be an understatement. Her choir teacher had been so impressed when she auditioned that he put her in the top choir- a feat nearly unheard of. When Beca had told her parents, they had been ecstatic for her, telling her over and over again how proud they were of her. Her dad had taken them all out for ice cream, which is the first time they had done something as a family in months.

Now, as Beca searches the large audience, she can’t help but wonder if her dad had ever actually been excited about her accomplishment at all. Her mom sits all alone amidst the mass of people, a jacket draped over the empty seat next to her reserving the space for her absent husband.

Beca’s heart plummets when she sees that her dad isn’t here, and her mom catches her eye. She gives Beca a sympathetic look, which makes Beca quickly avert her gaze. Beca didn’t want her pity.

Besides, she had been looking forward to this concert since school started, so she had to try and ignore the disappointment she felt growing in her gut. Beca forces a smile on her face as the director cues them to start and loses herself in the music and the familiar rush that singing always brought to her.

When the final notes of their performance ring out through the auditorium and the audience starts cheering their praises to the choir, Beca can’t help but let her eyes slide back over to where her mom is sitting- well standing, now, along with the rest of the audience. The seat reserved for her dad is still empty.

The thundering of applause doesn’t feel quite as satisfying as it did moments ago.

*

Later that night, Beca sits alone at the piano. The rest of the house is quiet; her mom had gone to get ready for bed fifteen minutes ago, leaving Beca to entertain herself for the rest of the night.

Their front room that houses the piano is dark, save for the lamp in the corner that illuminates the room just enough to see the keys of the piano.

Beca is sits in front of the piano with her hands in her lap, trying her best to control the emotions raging inside. There are so many of them that she doesn’t even know what she’s feeling- sadness, disappointment, anger, all swirling around in her mind and taunting her to lose control.

She wants to scream, to cry, to hurt something so that she won’t feel so hurt herself. Beca had gone to the piano in hopes that she could soothe the pain by playing for a little bit, but now she finds that she has no desire to even set her hands on the keys.

So now she sits alone, fighting a war inside that is ultimately leaving her feeling empty. Hollow.

Numb.

Numb is a good way to think of it. Beca figures that numbess is a good way to cope with out of control emotions. Why feel too much when you can just feel nothing at all?

Beca is so disconnected that she only barely registers the sound of the garage door opening. She only becomes aware of what's going on around her when soft footsteps approach her, stopping beside the piano bench. “Hey, Bug,” her dad says quietly. Beca doesn’t look at him, just continues to stare at the keys in front of her in a daze. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a bouquet of flowers being set on the lid of the piano.

Beca chooses to remain silent.

Her dad sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your concert. I know you were really looking forward to it. I got busy grading some papers at the school, and then I got busy making some revisions on my thesis, and then my coworker needed help with…”

He continues talking, making excuse after excuse as to why he wasn’t there, but Beca drones him out. She didn’t want to hear his reasons, and she didn’t know if she wanted to forgive him quite yet. He had said he was sorry, which meant that she should tell him that it was okay, but honestly? Beca didn’t know if it was. He had made her a promise that he would be there, no matter what, and he broke that promise. So it really wasn’t okay that he missed the concert, not really.

Still, Beca knew that she needed to forgive him. He was her father, after all, and Beca knew that he always tried to do what was best for her, even if he wasn’t successful all the time. There would be other concerts, ones that he would for sure make it to.

Plus, Beca knew that her mom was probably going to chew him out later, so it might be better if both of them weren’t mad at him.

“It’s okay,” Beca says after he’s done talking, tearing her eyes away from the piano to look up at him. She pretends it doesn’t bother her how he doesn’t actually look all that apologetic. “You’re a busy guy, I get it.” Beca shrugs her shoulders and looks down at her hands. “There’ll be other concerts.”

Her dad pats her on the shoulder. Places a kiss on top of her head. Beca fights the unfamiliar urge to pull away. “Thank you for understanding, Bec. I don’t know what I did to deserve a kid as good as you.”

Beca forces a stiff laugh out of her mouth. “I do what I can,” she attempts to say lightly. Her dad chuckles in reply and starts making his way out of the room, but Beca spins around on the bench to stop him at the last second. “Do you want to play piano for a little bit before going to bed?” she asks him quickly with wide eyes, causing him to stop and turn to look at her. “It’s been a while since we’ve played together.”

He brings up a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “I don’t think I’m up for playing right now. I’m kind of worn out,” he tells her, avoiding eye contact. “I think I’m just going to head to bed.”

“Oh,” Beca says in a soft voice, feeling her heart sink again. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

“Maybe later,” her dad says noncommittally.

“Maybe later,” Beca echoes unbelievingly.

“Goodnight, Bec.”

“Night, Dad.”

He walks out of the room and Beca hears the sounds of his footsteps on the stairs shortly after, which Beca knows is a prelude to the shouting. She squeezes her eyes shut and breathes deeply; trying to reach that blissful numbness she had felt before.

Beca turns on the bench to face the piano once more and opens her eyes. The keys stare back at her, just asking to be played. Beca reaches out a hand and gently lowers the fallboard, covering the keys for the first time she can remember.

A lone tear rolls down Beca’s cheek, but she hardly notices through the uncomfortable hollowness swallowing her up from the inside.

* * *

Beca stares out the window of the bus, watching the scenery pass by, yet not actually processing any of it. There’s a warm weight resting against her right arm that belongs to Chloe, who’s been leaning against her for the better part of half an hour now. Beca’s unsure if the surprisingly quiet senior is asleep, so she focuses all her energy into holding as still as possible so she doesn’t disrupt her.

The bus had been fairly quiet ever since Fat Amy had been by Bumper’s burrito, as if they were all mourning the loss of Amy’s dignity. Amy, however, has held her head high since the incident, seemingly unbothered by the attack. Beca isn’t sure whether that’s due to pride or ignorance, but either way it’s kind of admirable.

Aubrey calls Chloe’s name from a couple rows back, and Chloe sits up to face her, answering Beca’s question as to whether she was asleep or not. Chloe pulls out an earbud to engage in conversation with Aubrey, and Beca watches her for a second before looking forward. She glances at Amy, who is in the driver’s seat in front of her, and notices a splotch of leftover burrito fillings behind her ear.

Beca quickly looks around to see if anyone’s watching before leaning forward in her seat slightly. “You got yourself a little something there,” she informs the Aussie, gesturing to her ear.

“Just leave it,” Amy tells her seriously. “It fuels my hate fire.”

Beca grins a little before leaning back to sit in her seat again. Chloe is facing forward now, both headphones in and humming along quietly to her music. Beca huffs a small sigh and resists the urge to lean over and press her lips against the ginger’s cheek. She goes back to staring out the window instead.

“I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan,” Chloe suddenly starts singing beside Beca, causing her to look over at the other girl.

Cynthia-Rose joins in with a higher harmony. “Welcome to the land of fame excess.” Chloe looks back at Cynthia-Rose and smiles. “Am I gonna fit in?”

The rest of the Bellas join in on the next line, adding in background parts and additional harmonies. Even Aubrey, who Beca would have thought had never heard the song before, started singing along, though she was obviously trying to act more proper about it.

Beca rolls her eyes and fights to keep the smile off her face, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead of her. The volume rises when the girls start on the first “And the Jay-Z song was on” and Beca glances over to see Chloe, Aubrey, and the rest of the Bellas all closing in on her. She lets out a startled noise, laughing a little.

They all pause in their singing, staring at Beca expectantly. Stacie wiggles her fingers. Aubrey gives her a playfully stern look. Chloe, who’s taken out one earbud at this point, nods her head in encouragement and pokes her side lightly with a grin on her face.

And honestly, Beca really can’t say no to these girls. Not after everything they’ve been through this year.

So Beca rolls her eyes a little, smiles, and starts belting out the words along with the rest of the Bellas.

Beca allows herself to let go all the way and completely jam out to the dumb pop song, which she only feels slightly dumb for doing, but the huge smile overtaking Chloe’s face and the happy look in her eyes is enough to make any embarrassment Beca may feel vanish.

They sing together for all of about twenty seconds before the bus starts making clunking noises, causing all of them to slowly stop their jamming in confusion.

“It’s a… It’s… uhhh…” Amy trials off in her singing, looking down at the gas gauge. “Whoa.”

“What the hell?” Aubrey asks.

“Umm it’s pretty cool, actually,” Amy says lightly. “I think we’re just runnin’ out of gas.”

“No, that can’t be!” Aubrey insists. “You just filled the tank.”

“Yeah, I did,” Amy replies. “And, yet, maybe I didn’t… because I got hit by flying Mexican food.” The rest of the girls shoot worried glances at each other while Amy slowly pulls the bus over. “Aaaand we’re out.”

“Aca-scuse me?” Aubrey asks in disbelief.

“Aca-believe it,” Fat Amy tells her. “Man, what are we gonna do?”

Besides Beca, Chloe closes her eyes and puts her head in her hands, taking deep breaths in an attempt to stay calm. Beca rubs a hand soothingly up and down her back.  Chloe speaks up softly after a moment. “Maybe we could call-”

“No!” Aubrey immediately cuts her off. “Don’t even say it, Chloe. How dare you.”

Beca narrows her eyes at Aubrey.

“No, actually that is a really good idea,” Amy innocently says from the front. “I’ve got Bumper’s number.”

“Why do you have Bumper’s number?” Aubrey asks, exasperated.

Amy starts trying to come up with an explanation, and Beca takes the opportunity of everyone’s attention being focused on that to reach down and take one of Chloe’s hands. Chloe looks up at her gratefully, and Beca squeezes her hand reassuringly before bringing their joined hands up to her lips to brush a quick kiss across Chloe’s knuckles.

And if anyone saw her do that, Beca honestly doesn’t think that would be the worst thing in the world.

* * *

The worst thing in the world, as it turns out, is an hour long bus ride with the Treblemakers.

Beca spent the ride wedged between Chloe and Jessica, listening to Bumper and Amy’s banter while becoming increasingly more and more agitated the whole time. When they finally arrived at their destination, Beca was just about ready to kiss the ground outside the bus.

About an hour later, the Bellas ready themselves for performance and gather backstage. The group going before them, the Footnotes, is good- like, really good. Their lead singer looks about 14, and the way he keeps shooting flirtatious looks at Beca indicates that he acts 14 as well.

Beca hates them.

The longer the Footnotes perform, the more anxious the Bellas seem to get. Most of the girls alternate between pacing, making flustered comments, and nervously watching their set.

A guy comes up to tell Aubrey that they have five minutes, and Stacie whirls on the blonde. “Where’d he come?” she asks worriedly.

Aubrey just shushes her.

Behind her, Beca can hear Amy whispering to Chloe. “It’s over. There’s no way we can beat the Footnotes and the Trebles.”

The Footnotes finish up their set and the audience reacts with thunderous applause. Aubrey beckons them all into a huddle. “We will be fine as long as we do the set list exactly as we rehearsed,” she says sternly, looking right at Fat Amy. “Okay? Exactly.”

Amy nods her head a little and averts her eyes. Beca shakes her head at the bullshittery of it all.

“Hands in,” Aubrey orders, glaring daggers at Beca.

“On three or after three?” Stacie asks.

Aubrey’s nostrils flare. “Screw it, let’s just do it.”

The announcer on stage introduces them and the Bellas walk out to polite applause, (forced) smiles on their faces. Aubrey blows into the pitch pipe, counts them off, and then they’re off on their boring old set.

Beca briefly wonders if it’s possible to throw up just from the thought of going through their set again.

She bets Aubrey could do it.

Beca’s actions go on autopilot as she lets her eyes look out into the audience. Their faces are unexcited, uninterested, and all around unimpressed. The DJ pulls out his phone and starts swiping through it, head propped up against his hand. She glances to her left to see the Footnotes dancing mockingly to their arrangement.

Anger and embarrassment overtakes Beca, and a terrible idea flashes through her head. It’s honestly a horrid thing to think of, but Beca has just enough angry adrenaline coursing through her body to be spontaneous and go through with it.

As soon as Chloe’s done with her solo, Beca quickly wets her lip in preparation and starts to sing at the same time Aubrey’s solo starts. “Bulletproof” may not be the easiest song to lay over the top of Ace of Base, but Beca thinks she pulls it off pretty well.

Chloe shoots a shocked – but delighted – expression over her shoulder, and it encourages Beca to keep going, despite the way Aubrey turns fully around to glare right at her.

Actually, maybe the glare is enough by itself. Beca grins cockily at Aubrey and sings even louder.

She sees Amy stumble a little on the choreography next to her, but the other girls don’t seem phased at all by Beca’s addition. Out in the audience the judges are nodding their heads in approval, which gives Beca all the validation she needs to know that she made the right decision.

Beca stops singing the mashup when they switch into “Eternal Flame” and side eyes Aubrey when she feels the blonde staring harshly at her. Beca can’t keep the pleased expression off her face, but continues on with the rest of the set as planned.

As soon as their performance is done, Beca quickly makes her way backstage, already anticipating Aubrey’s wrath. She and Amy exchange goofy looks with each other as they speed walk away, Chloe not far behind them. Soon enough Aubrey comes storming up to Beca through the rest of the Bellas.

“What the hell, Beca?” she demands, pushing her way through Stacie and Cynthia-Rose. “Were you trying to screw us up?”

Beca is immediately on the defensive. “Are you serious?” she asks, a small amount of bite to her tone.

“News flash, this isn’t the Beca show,” Aubrey fires back.

Beca recoils. “Okay, I’m sorry that I messed you up, but in case you hadn’t noticed, everybody pretty much dozed off during our set.”

“It’s not your job to decide what we do and when we do it,” Aubrey tells her haughtily. “Why don’t you ask the rest of the group how they felt about your little improvisation?”

Beca has no comeback for that. Her eyes immediately shoot to Chloe, only to see that their so-called “Co-Captain” was pointedly avoiding her gaze. Hurt flares through Beca, because Chloe had promised her that she would always have her back. Yet now, at the moment of truth, it appeared that all Chloe was full of was empty words. Beca turns her attention towards Fat Amy instead, hoping the bold Australian will be brave enough to speak up.

“Amy?” she implores desperately.

Amy looks at her uncertainly. “It was cool,” she starts timidly. “But, it did take us a little bit by surprise.”

“Yeah, a lot by surprise!” Aubrey immediately jumps in. Beca only glares at her in response. Aubrey straightens her uniform. “I told you she wasn’t Bella.”

“Aubrey, don’t,” Chloe tries to counter weakly, and anger bursts inside Beca.

“No, that’s okay,” Beca says before Chloe or Aubrey can say anything, causing the redhead to look over at her. “You don’t have to pretend you’re allowed to have a say in the group, right?”

Beca can see the way her words affect Chloe, but she can’t find it in herself to feel bad about it. Chloe looks down at her feet and she visibly deflates, sinking in on herself.

Aubrey wasn’t quite done yet. “Your attitude sucks, you’re a grade-A pain in my ass, and I know you’re hooking up with Chloe and I don’t like it.”

Usually these words coming from Aubrey didn’t cut through Beca as much as they were right now, but they hit differently after everything that’s happened in the last minute or so.

“You don’t have to worry about Chloe, Aubrey,” Beca says through gritted teeth. She stares blankly at Chloe, and the other girl looks up to meet her eyes. “Because there is definitely nothing going on there.”

Chloe’s eyes fall away again.

Footsteps approach from behind her, and a familiar voice speaks up. “Hey, is everything alright here?”

Jesse.

Beca whirls on him. “Can you back off?” she snaps.

Jesse holds up his hands in surrender and takes a few steps backwards with wide, concerned eyes. Beca turns back to face the Bellas, resisting the urge to punch Aubrey’s smug face.

“If this is what I get for trying,” Beca says dejectedly, though she doesn’t finish the thought. She spares one last glance at Chloe’s crestfallen expression before pushing through the Trebles and out the backstage door.

The sting of tears threatens her eyes, but Beca only hardens her expression and swallows down the urge to cry. Nobody she’d just left behind was worth any of her time or emotions, and she doesn’t know how they ever tricked her into believing otherwise.

AT PEACE (Bechloe drabble)

Short, angsty af little drabble taken from this prompt.

Summary: PP3 AU (shout out to @isthemusictoblame for the setting and also for calling me a demon when proof-reading) in which Beca and Amy are the ones held hostage, and the Bellas are none the wiser. Beca knows she doesn’t have much time, but she has to talk to Chloe. She has to finally tell Chloe how she feels.

Warnings for angst, blood, death and just a lot of sadness honestly.

Words: 2K.

They say the Kübler-Ross model applies to those terminally ill. Those who know they’re dying, but are struggling to accept it.

There are five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, finally, acceptance.

Beca has never thought much into it at all. Why would she? She’s twenty-two years old, she’s healthy, she has no reason to think about the cruel hands of death reaching so carelessly out to her, dragging her in much earlier than her time.

It surprises her, though, as she lay on the cold, hardwood floor of the.. whatever room this is, that those five stages all seem to come and go at once. It takes her all of thirty seconds to deny that that sharp pain in her side could’ve come from a knife puncturing through her skin, hitting vital organs, to feeling angry at the coward rushing from the room with his calloused hand covering his bearded face, eyes wide as if in complete disbelief.

He was the one wielding a fucking knife, she thinks, how does he seem so surprised?

Beca doesn’t believe in God. At least, she doesn’t think she does. But she finds herself silently begging someone, anyone, to wake her from what she wants to call a nightmare. She wishes so hard that she could snap her eyes open and she’d wake in her hotel bed, that ugly wallpaper hanging up before her, and her only issue that of breaking the news to the other girls that Khaled had chosen her. Not the Bellas... Just her.

The tears come not forty seconds later. They stain her cheeks, rolling silently down pale skin. Beca is positioned on her side, gravity doing its job as salty liquid begins to pool on the ground beneath her.

Ten seconds later and she’s moving a bloody hand from the gaping wound on her side, the one that doesn’t hurt anymore. Only a minute ago, she’d claim that she’d never felt pain like it, but now it just feels... Numb. She feels numb. And as her fingers stretch to the iPhone in her back pocket, screen cracked from the impact of the fall -- something Beca could’ve sworn had happened in slow motion, but the state of her screen would call her a liar -- she isn’t thinking about it at all.

She isn’t paralyzed with fear, she isn’t begging whoever is up there to let her wake from this hellish nightmare.

Instead, all she’s thinking about is Chloe.

It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid. Her body feels limp, cold. She’s literally dying, yet all she can think about is flaming red hair and ocean blue eyes.

And all of the things she never got to tell her. All of the things she deserves to hear.

The smallest movement takes more time than Beca is used to. It’s like she’s frail, lame. She wants to do something so simple, she wants to unlock her phone and tap on Chloe’s contact, something she’s done so many times before that it’s just second nature to her now, but her thumb is moving at an excruciatingly slow pace, and Beca allows an aggravated sob to slip through her cracked, parted lips.

Somehow, she musters up the strength, and by the time the phone is lifted to her ear, eyes closed as she gulps down labored breaths, she can hear that almost melodic voice ringing out from the speaker.

“Um, Beca? Are you there? Did you butt-dial me?”

The brunette takes a sharp breath in. It causes the dull pain in her side to pick up, though it lessens on her slow exhale, and Beca forces all sadness from her voice. She doesn’t mean for it to sound so croaky, so exhausted, but she can’t help herself.

“Beca?”

“Hey. Yeah, Chlo. It’s me. I’m here,” she says in the most normal voice she can manage. She has the urge to cough, to clear her dry throat, but she refuses to let herself. She doesn’t want to give away any hint of there being anything wrong. She doesn’t want to worry Chloe. She just... She just wants to talk to her.

“Oh, hey! Where are you? The girls and I have been looking for you guys everywhere. Are you with Amy?”

The last thing Beca feels like doing is smiling, but her lips seem to tug upward slightly at the lighthearted sound of Chloe’s voice. The familiarity of it is so comforting, so peaceful somehow. Chloe is like her comfort blanket, and Beca isn’t afraid anymore. “Yeah. Hey, um, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

There’s a brief pause, before Chloe’s voice rings through the receiver again.

“Are you okay? You sound kind of weird. Are you sick?”

Beca takes that as her out.

“Yeah, I just have a sore throat,” she lies, and her response seems to be good enough for Chloe.

“Oh. Well, you should come back to the hotel, let me take care of you. You don’t want to make yourself even more sick.”

The concern in the redhead’s voice tells Beca she’s doing the right thing by keeping her in the dark. If she’s worried about something as simple as a sore throat, God only knows how she’d feel if she knew the truth. If she knew that she was laying here in an unfamiliar room, life gradually escaping her with each passing moment.

“Um, yeah.” She chooses not to tell her she’ll be there soon, because that would be a lie, and Beca has spent enough time lying to Chloe. She has spent four long, drawn out years lying to the other girl. If she’d been truthful with her, she’d tell her she’d been in love with her from the first time she’d laid eyes on her. The first time that little redhead in the blue dress with eyes that shone like sapphires had caught her attention, waving a flyer for a dumb a cappella group in her face, Beca had fallen hard, and she’d never managed to get back up.

Beca’s voice is still strained and croaky as she continues, though she has her sore throat cover to block more questions for now. “Remember earlier, when you were all smiley and even more adorable than usual?”

“Adorable?” There’s a shy kind of giggle sounding through the phone, one that causes Beca’s teeth to sink gently into her bottom lip as she pictures the look on the other girl’s face. She can see it so clearly, the way her eyes crinkle at the sides, her cheeks overtaken with a rosy tint of subtle pink.

“Uhh, I don’t know about that. But I know when you’re talking about, yes. What about it?”

“You know you’re adorable, Chlo,” Beca says in a softer, quieter voice. She finds that it’s easier this way, it doesn’t sound as strained. The fabric of her shirt is clinging to her body, and Beca doesn’t dare look down, she doesn’t want to see the deep red liquid pooling around her. She just wants to focus on Chloe. Just Chloe.

“Why was that? I mean, did you hear some news or something?”

It had taken a while for Chloe Beale to figure out her life plan. But when she’d finally decided on vet school, on a career that Beca thought was absolutely perfect for her, she’d thrown her whole heart and soul into it, the same way she’d always done the Bellas. Beca knows she’s been waiting for a phone call, and she hasn’t said so, but she’s pretty sure she’s been even more nervous about it than Chloe has. She wonders if it came, if that’s why her eyes were shining more brightly than ever before when she’d seen her earlier today.

She doesn’t allow herself to think about how that was the last time. She won’t.

“News? What kind of news?” Chloe asks, her voice almost sing-song sounding.

The playful tone makes Beca chuckle quietly under her breath, the movement doing nothing to help the wound in her side. But she can’t focus on that right now. She has precious little time left with Chloe Beale, and she’s going to spend it focusing on her. “Did they call?”

There’s a pause, and Beca worries for half a second that the line has gone dead. That they’ve been cut off somehow. But then she hears her again, she hears that familiar, beautiful voice, and suddenly she feels okay.

“Ugh, okay, you can’t say anything, okay?” Chloe begins, her voice lowering some. Beca wonders if she’s around any of the other girls, though she doesn’t ask. She just listens, lets Chloe continue. “I was going to wait until we were all together later, but I did get the call. I got it this morning. I got into vet school!”

Beca can practically hear the smile on Chloe’s face. She can feel her joy radiating through the phone, through the airwaves. It’s almost like she’s right beside her. Beca is not on a boat in the middle of nowhere, held hostage by Amy’s father like something from a poor, badly thought out action movie. And Chloe isn’t back at the hotel. They’re together, they’re right there next to one another, and Beca finds herself stretching out an arm, as if to take ahold of the other girl. She wants to feel her beside her, she imagines she’s so much closer.

“That’s so incredible, Chloe.” She pauses to catch her breath, to normalize her tone. “I mean, I knew you’d get in, but I’m so happy for you,” Beca says, her genuine excitement stifled by her current situation.

“Thank you! I’m so happy,” Chloe practically squeals, and that’s what Beca had wanted. When she’d called, she’d wanted to hear Chloe the way she would always think of her. That happy, melodic tone, that pep that, if it were coming from anybody else, would have Beca rolling her eyes hard enough for people to literally hear. But because it’s Chloe, all she can feel is grateful. That’s Chloe Beale. It’s her Chloe. And that’s all Beca had wanted.

“You know I’m so proud of you, right?” Beca doesn’t even realize her voice has quietened. She hasn’t done it purposely, but the room has begun to spin, her breathing growing faster.

“What? Bec, I can barely hear you. Where are you?”

She ignores the question.

“I’m proud of you, Chlo. I’m so proud of you, and...” Her hesitation makes no sense. She doesn’t have the time to hesitate. She doesn’t want to hesitate. So she forces herself to keep going, to say the one thing she’s wanted to say for four years now. “And I love you, Chloe.”

The redhead’s voice softens some as well, her tone almost bashful in response. “I love you too, Bec... Are you sure you’re okay? Where are you?”

Her eyes have closed, short breaths fewer and further between. The room is still, calm, and Chloe’s voice sounds angelic in her ear. Heavenly.

“Beca? Bec, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

It’s that worry, that sudden air of concern that snaps Beca back to the present. She feels cold, she feels numb all over, and she feels the sweet release of sleep taking over her, but Chloe’s voice pulls her back, if only for a moment, just to reassure her. Because the last thing Beca had wanted to do was upset her. That’s the last thing she ever wants to do.

“I have to go, okay?” She whispers, salty tears beginning to sting the backs of her eyes once more. “Just... Know that I love you, okay? I love you.”

“Bec? I love you, too. Beca--”

Chloe’s voice sounds distant now, because Beca has pulled the phone slowly away from her ear, her thumb sweeping slowly across the end call button. If she could’ve stayed with her longer, she would’ve. God, she would’ve stayed with her so much longer. She would’ve told her so much more, she would’ve told her so much more and she would’ve done it so many times.

But it’s out there now. Those words she’d wanted to speak so many times, that emotion she’d wanted to convey to the one person whose existence is helping her feel anything but afraid, it’s all out there.

And Beca can close her eyes now. She loves Chloe Beale, and Chloe loves her in return.

And Beca can close her eyes. She can be at peace.

The Best Intentions - Part 23

“Gravlax as a main, Rose?” Ansgar queried, tucking his napkin back into his lap. “I’ll admit I was a bit surprised when you didn’t bring it out with the salad greens, darling.” He eyed his plate with some suspicion, and then flicked his gaze back to the chef, who, much to his admiration, did not deflate at all beneath his criticism.

“You know I’m a fusion chef, Sgar,” she replied adroitly. “Experimental. New takes on the traditional and all that.”

“But still… it’s an appetizer, isn’t it?” He gave Joline a quick wink and a quirk of his lips, out of view of Rose, as if to say, “I’m just giving her shit, she loves it.”

“Oh, yes,” Joline added. “I’ve only had it as a starter before.”

“You’ve been gone too long, mate,” Rose gave Ansgar a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been shaking things up, serving the cured salmon as a main from my kitchen for a year now. It’s been all the rage in Stockholm. Probably beyond.” She stepped forward, and pointed, two-fingered, to the different items arranged on Ansgar’s plate. “See, I served it with a horseradish and cream cheese sauce, peeled new Idaho potatoes - flash boiled, dilled and tossed in organic fresh-cream butter, along with a California white wine pickled beet and red onion salad, and freshly baked rye bread, made in my own stone oven. All of this paired with a crisp, yet sweet Fattoria Casa di Terra Bolgheri Vermentino.”

“Rosie, mate,” Ansgar lifted his fork and licked his lips, peering with feigned impatience up at his friend. 

“Yes,” she replied.

“It looks and smells amazing. I love your cooking, otherwise I’d not have hired you for this evening. Now. Shut up, stop ranting, and let us eat it.”

Rose chuckled. “Yeah, all right,” she said, bobbling her head. She turned to Joline and gave her a small, respectful bow. “I really hope you like it, Joline,” she said, “Sgar here asked me to make for you what I’d make for one of my girlfriends on a second date.” She winked. “And you know, salmon is an aphrodisiac… not that you’ll need it with him around.”

Ansgar growled, forkful of food suspended just in front of his mouth. “Rosie,” he gnarled.

“Yeah, Sgar?”

“Bugger back off to the kitchen, will you? There’s a darling.”

“Salaam,” Rose grinned broadly, gave an elaborate, twirling-hand bow, pressed her hands together in mock prayer, and stepped backwards into the kitchen. 

Ansgar paused with his first bite, surreptitiously waiting for Joline to take hers. However, as soon as his gaze peeled from the Rosie spectacle back to Joline, she had already tucked into a quarter of her fish, and at least two of the potatoes. “It’s good?” Ansgar laughed before finally biting into the first bit of salmon.

“Ohmgd!” Joline mumbled. She chewed and swallowed, smiling. “It’s delicious! It’s amazing!” She pointed back toward the kitchen with her fork. “She’s amazing! Can I keep her?”

“Christ,” Ansgar agreed, laughing. “It is. It’s perfect. It’s perfect, and no you can’t keep her. She’s mine. But don’t tell Rosie. She’ll get a big head about it and expect me to somehow score her another Michelin star on her door.”

“I heard that!” Rose chimed.

“You were meant to!” Ansgar called back. 

***

But the rest of the conversation between Ansgar and Joline went unheard, busy as Rosie and Jacqui, her sous chef, had been preparing the desserts and coffee.

Ansgar found it lovely and strange how comfortable he felt, how comfortable Joline appeared, in the face of a lack of conversation between the two of them. They consumed their meals in pure enjoyment, and in relative silence save for the occasional hum of delight or the acknowledgement of a particularly palatable tidbit, or the sharing of a bite or two across the corner of the table. 

Even better how she’d accepted his hand on her thigh, how she’d switched to her non-dominant hand to finish her meal, all so that she could entwine her fingers with Ansgar’s under the table. Better still how she had kicked off her shoes and brushed her bare foot against the small hairs and the flash of skin above his socks, beneath the cuff of his jeans. 

Their meal was casual, yet sensual. Friendly, yet romantic. Happy. Content.

Secure. Safe. As if the world was reduced down to just the two of them.

At least until Ansgar’s phone chimed in his back pocket. 

“Shit, sorry,” he said, fumbling to retrieve it. He flicked the mute switch on the side. “Damn. I meant to turn that off.”

Joline’s brow furrowed. “Was that… was that Joy Division? That ringtone. It sounded like the first few notes of ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’.”

Ansgar laughed. “Yeah, it is,” he affirmed. “It’s what I have as a tone for when Magnus texts or rings me. Joy Division’s his favorite band.”

She leaned into him, tucking her leg up beneath her on the chair, her elbow on the now empty, dessert-anticipatory table. “Didn’t you say that your brother and his wife just had a baby?”

“Babies, plural,” he said, glancing at his brother’s text. “In fact, here.” He turned the phone toward her, showing her the photograph he’d just received. “That’s Magnus, looking absolutely shredded if you ask me, holding the twins. Bec must have taken this snap.”

Joline snorted. “Yeah, as if I couldn’t tell that was your brother. You know? That could be you in that picture.”

Her statement gave Ansgar pause. He knew she hadn’t meant it like that, but still. He knew she was referring to the fact that he and Magnus were mirror images of each other, but still. 

That could be you in that picture. That could be you - married with three beautiful children. That could be you, holding the next generation of your family. That could be you, making your sister and mother over the moon with the babies. That could be you - stable, happy, well cared for, well fed and well fucked every night by a woman you loved and who loved you more than anything else in this world.

That could be you. 

That could have been you.

Could it still? One wonders. One hopes.

Could be you.

“Yes, it could be me,” he said at last, trying his best to pull himself out of the slight funk, trying to hide the wash of melancholy that crashed over him, trying to remember just how happy he was in that moment with that woman. With Joline. “I told you I was a twin, and I meant it. Magnus and are truly identical, right down to our matching genetics.”

“Those Martinsson genes make beautiful babies,” Joline mused for a moment, staring at the photo before glancing back up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. “So um… what are their names again? I know you told me, but I uh… I was kind of distracted at the time.”

“I’ll bet you were.” He laughed. “That’s Ingrid Elise,” he pointed to the small pink bundle in the photo, and then to the blue one. “And that handsome gentleman is Axel Gregor. The next A.G. Martinsson to terrorize this world and then some, and I plan to make him my little apprentice, my little mini-me someday.”

“Gregor,” Joline perked. “Gregor? Is… is that what the G in AGM stands for? Is that your second name?”

“Bingo,” Ansgar nodded and winked. “Tell me, what did you think it stood for? George? Gavin? Grant? Giovanni?” The last name he said with a mock Italian accent, his pinched fingers flipping in the air. 

“No,” she smiled coyly and leaned forward, bringing her other elbow up to support her chin as she shifted toward him, into him, her eyes soft and hooded and flirtatious. “I thought the G meant generous, genius, gallant, gentlemanly, and most of all, gorgeous.”

Ansgar’s lips curled and his cheeks went an uncharacteristic shade of pink. He shifted in his chair and brought his own elbows to the table, rest his own chin in the upturned palms of his hands, brought his own lips close to hers, his nose to brush delicately against hers. “You think I’m all those things, do you?”

“I don’t think so, I know so.”

“There’s one G that you missed, though,” he cooed, and slowly moved his hand below the table, insinuating himself between her thighs, his fingers up high and into the crevasse at the top of her legs. “A very important one.”

She hissed at the pressure of his touch on her clothed sex. “Mmmm, and what might that be?”

“G-spot,” he murmured low and heady, a whisper just outside her earlobe. With a sensual rumble from his chest, he flicked his tongue quickly behind the curve of her ear and took a slow, consuming mouthful of the skin of her neck. “And I know exactly where you keep yours hidden, my darling.”

“Oi! Dessert! Come on lovebirds, you can wait!” 

Ansgar groaned, his head falling heavily and comically to Joline’s shoulder. Her shoulder which began to shake with mirth and laughter in a rhythm to match his own. He pulled himself up, grinning like a fool, to find Joline with her hands over her mouth and nose, her eyes sparkling with a hand in the cookie jar child-like mischief. 

“Have your gateau breton with apricot sauce, now, Sgar. Then, you can eat herpeach out later,” Rose quipped. “Listen, if you two keep that up, Jacqui and I may need to borrow your guest bedroom for a fuck of our own.”

Ansgar’s eyes flicked over to Joline’s, gauging her response to Rosie’s signature vulgarity. Joline gave him the same look - wide eyed, unblinking, mouth taut and slightly puckered….

… before they both, as if in stereo, snorted and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“So are you the new flavor or a new main?” Rose asked quietly between her and Joline. Ansgar disappeared into the media room to set up something for them to watch while Rose served them coffee. Joline suspected that he also excused himself to exchange texts with his brother.

The amount of love, respect, admiration, pride and perhaps a bit of envy thrown in there that Joline saw in Ansgar towards his twin warmed the cynical side of her personality, the realist she claimed. But she witnessed it. Ansgar returned to Sweden and his family’s fold after running and hiding after the dissolution of his marriage. He loved his family beyond anything or anyone else, and that was the splice of Ansgar that Joline favored.

She slid her fork through her lips upside down slowly, raising her gaze from her dessert plate to the attractive chef. “I’m sorry?” Her tongue worked the delicate yet rich gateau Breton along the roof of her mouth.

“I mean no offense,” Rose annunciated clearly, deliberately. “But let’s cut past the outrage and denial and ‘how dare yous.’” She spun the last three words in a high pitched impression of Joline. “Are you a garnish or the real deal?”

Joline slid her ponytail through her circled fingers from root to tip twice before sticking her elbow upon the table and cupping her in chin in her palm. She couldn’t keep the humor from her tone. “Are you asking my intentions with Ansgar?”

“Yeah, girly, that’s what I’m askin’!”

Joline picked up her fork again and poked at her dessert, thinking. Since her very first conversation with Ansgar, she wrestled with a title or relationship with him, how they fit. Two days in and they’d been through so many variations and incarnations. She asked the other woman, “No shit? Absolute truth?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want to know.”

“No bullshit, I don’t know.”

Rose unloaded the chip upon her shoulder and chuckled, sitting beside Joline at the table. “I like you and that’s Ansgar Martinsson all over.”

Joline nodded, rolling her eyes with Rose. “By all means, if you want to defend his honor and threaten me,” she gestured with open palms in front of her, “this is… your dining room.”

“I’ve known him for too long. His roar is bad, his bite is terrifying.”

“Are you defending him or warning me?” Joline genuinely liked this woman, her veiled attempt of protecting Ansgar was entertaining in its respect and pan of the man. “I thought to warn you of that… that was until I realized that you knew each other.”

Rose looked Joline dead in the eye. “He was fucked. over. He deserves someone who can…” She suddenly waved that thought away, feeling that it was entirely too cliché. “Okay, forget that. Just know when to treat him like a man, when to treat him like a baby, and when to pet him like a lion.”

“I’m learning that.

Rose got to her feet again when she thought she heard Ansgar coming back. “Second date, huh?”

Joline shrugged, her voice waivered in uncertainly. “I think so.”

“There’s enough sexual tension there to power the city of lights. How are you not wet all the time?”

Joline crossed her legs under the table. “Who said I’m not?”

Rose laughed. “I knew I liked you.”

Ansgar returned then, shooing Rose back to the kitchen to let him and his date finish their dessert without crude remarks or interruptions. He folded himself back into the seat, taking Joline’s hand once more, kissing her palm.

“Is everything okay? With Magnus and the babies?”

“Yes, darling. No more interludes. I’d like to spend the rest of my night with you.”

Joline scooted her legs toward him, moving closer. She hooked her legs over one of his and leaned in closer. She brushed her cheek along his, feeling the bristles of his beard prickle her skin. She nuzzled her nose to his, breathing him in. She wanted to live clear of questions or ulterior motives. “I don’t know what this is, Sgar.” She angled her head back and sideways, feathering her lips over his. “I’m—“

“Ask me, Joline,” he stated calmly, hiding that he was already bewitched by her seduction.

“I don’t want to put demands on you or create any sense of obligation.”

He fell into her mouth, tasting the summery fresh flavor of apricot along her tongue. He nipped at her, nibbling her like he planned to scoop into his dessert. He almost preferred the taste of Rose’s delicacy laced with Joline. Maybe it was Joline laced with Rose’s dessert. “Ask me,” he repeated huskily.

She retreated a bit, her eyes flicking between his then down to his lips, returning again. She willed him to speak to give her some indication. “You told Rose that… that this is a date?”

Confidently, he confirmed it, no shame and no hesitation. “I did.”

Her hand rested against his chest under the base of his neck. “Is this… Is this a date? Is this more than sex?”

The stampede of his heart that usually pounded in his chest at the thought of entanglements didn’t scare him. He didn’t feel the need to take to the road. Masks or identities had no place in his life now. “I’ve told you, Joline, that I feel happy with you, happier than I’ve been in a long time. Comfortable. Safe. I trust you, with more of myself than I’ve shared with others.”

“Why me?”

“Is there a rhyme or reason for it? Blunt as I can be, you don’t give a shit. You don’t care about material possessions, you don’t care what I do, you don’t care what I have. You accept me as I am without trying to change me. I’m a pompous ass, you let me be that. What you do care about is being with me, close to me as you are now, and getting to know me.”

Despite the seriousness and intimacy of their talk, Joline cracked a smile. “We did this all wrong, you know.”

“I don’t think I’d call any of it wrong.” He heaved the woman into his lap, making her abandon her seat entirely. “I thought we had some fun along the way.”

Joline turned her head allowing him access to her when he combed his teeth along her neck. “I only meant… you asked me to the gala after you met Harold—“

He chuckled against the smooth column of skin. “Is that really the highlight of the afternoon? Your opera ghost?”

“Harold’s important to me, ass… but that wasn’t the point. You asked me to the gala, an actual date, and I turned you down.”

“Would you like me to invite you again, Joline?”

She giggled into another hoard of kisses along the slope between her neck and shoulder. “Well, if you’re only going to sex me up afterwards,” her breath caught when his hand closed around her breast, “I should… should get a date out of it too.”

“Then it’s settled.” He glided his lips down the crease of her clavicle, down, down, down into the valley between her breasts.

“Fuck, Sgar…” She held him to that erogenous and sensitive place on her, reeling at the pounding in her bloodstream and the spin in her head from the spike in arousal. Her fingers dug into his thick curls, the scrape of the coarse hair of his beard along her breast driving past want directly into need.

Hauling the woman up into his arms, he stood suddenly, cradling her knees with one arm and her back with the other. He called over his shoulder into the kitchen, “Rose, bring dessert and coffee into the media room.”

Joline wrapped her arms around the back of his head. “Why are you doing this, caveman?”

“The chair’s a bitch to get around when I want to feel you up.” As he walked from one room into the other, he had another bit of business kicking around his head. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Well, yes… I’ve this tiny little construction company poking around my main stage and infiltrating my little stage,” she teased loudly. “Not to mention that someone’s trying to electrocute my lead singers and maybe the audience too. And a brand new partner that doesn’t like to let me sleep AT ALL.”

Ansgar unceremoniously dropped the ranting woman onto yet another massive lounge in the media room. He was quick to silence her protests for the physical dumping by blanketing her body with his and stop her mouth with his. He felt her surrender and melt into his affectionate display.

Rose knew enough to clear her throat loudly, more than once, before bringing the desserts in, Jacqui behind her with the coffee.

Joline pressed in beside Ansgar when they righted themselves again, threading her arms through his and laying her head on his shoulder.

“Sneak away for an hour or two tomorrow. For lunch,” he told her, reaching for the remote.

“Tell me why.”

He pressed a kiss against her, “Corporate picnic. I need a date.”

The Rover

Jo Harvelle x Trisha Kay Johnston(OFC)

Rating Mature

@spnabobingo​ Square: Alpha Female

@spnsongchallengebingo​ Song: Closer by The Chainsmokers

Warnings: abo dynamics, angst, fluff, unbeta’d

word count: 4.6k

taggers: @becs-bunker​ @keepcalmimthecupcake​ @janai-mcgarrett @hunterswearingplaid​

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All my life, I was trained in the way of the Omega. I was expected to be a submissive and quiet mate, bearer of pups and able to raise them with softness and compassion, able to cook and clean and please my Alpha, to be the perfect little housewife. I hated every moment of it. The years of schooling and practicing, it was like I was a delicate little princess, locked away in a tower, unable to experience the world and be myself. I could cook but all I wanted was Mcdonalds, I could clean but I wish I could be lazy. I could sew, mend and press my dresses but I just wanted to put on a comfy pair of sweats and stay in my bed. My hair was curled and combed, colored and soft and I wished I could just throw it up in a bun on top of my head or stuff it inside of a beanie. 

The only thing I loved about my training is my interaction with children. I adore kids and honestly I wouldn’t mind having pups. I’m good with kids and they love me. I don’t think it has anything to do with being Omega or at least training to be an Omega. I hadn’t even presented yet. People were actually starting to worry that I was just going to end up being Beta, which heaven forbid, would be the worst thing ever. It actually sounds far better than my alternative. 

Every woman in my family has been Omega. They pride themselves in the purity of the genetic line. Most of the men have been Alphas but they aren’t as big of a deal apparently. They can be Betas and they wouldn’t be treated any differently. But they’d be looked down on if any of them turned out to be an Omega. Like it’s against nature if we turn out to be anything other than what we’re expected to be. We have no control over our biology, we shouldn’t get shamed or thought less of for what nature chose us to be. 

It never made sense to me why women /had/ to be Omega and men /had/ to be Alphas. Who made the rules? Who set the standard? It was like gender identity and sexual preference. It’s your life, who dictates the rights and wrongs for our existence? But I digress. This story isn’t about me climbing up on my soapbox and giving my opinion. This is about how a cute little Omega girl turned out to be a strong Alpha female. 

Like I said, I was raised to be an Omega, just like my older sister and my mother before me. Dinner parties, dances, recitals, debutante balls, the whole nine yards. I was a pretty pretty butterfly and yet I felt like an ugly caterpillar suffocating in my cocoon, one that my mother tied wings to and paraded me around in the disguise. I love my mother, don’t get me wrong but she doesn’t know a thing about me.

She knows the girl she created, the young woman she wanted me to be, the woman she was molding me to be. My name is Trisha Kay Johnston, named after my mother Trisha and my Dad Kent. Everyone calls me Kay. I’m the straight little girl, holding onto her purity for the knot of her one true Alpha. But no one knew the real me. 

The truth is, I was far from straight and definitely far from pure. I have always led a double life, always been different, never truly the person anyone wanted me to be. I tried to confide in my sister, tell her about the private me but she told me to keep it to myself and it was never brought up again after that. The group of friends I had at school, the private all girls school, saw me one way while the friends I had outside of school never knew about my feminine side. 

I had a best friend once, someone who knew me inside and out. It was just for a short time, back when I went to an actual public school with boys and girls and people who didn’t have to wear plaid skirts and perfect little black shoes that killed your feet. Sam Winchester was a cool kid, kind of short and scrawny but stronger than he looked. He was smart, funny and an awesome listener. He never treated me like a delicate flower, never spoke down to me and saw me for who I was.  We were equals and became tight very quickly. But he was gone after only a month. We tried to keep in touch but we were young and you know how it goes. Out of sight and out of mind. I never forgot about him though and I’ve always hoped that maybe one day I’d see him again. 

Looking at colleges was fun, my mom wanting to send me to a women’s college in state and me just wanting to go to a normal school out of state. My mother always tried to keep me under her thumb and not wishing to rock the boat, I mostly just fell in line and followed her orders. I just kept telling myself, ‘just a little while longer then I can graduate and be on my own, finally be free.’ But the only way I could do that was to fight for my right to go to college far away. It would be quite a feat to try and get my mother to let me go but thankfully, I had my dad’s help.

If there was any one person that loved me for me, supported me and tried to get to know me, it was my father. My mother was quite a fiery little Omega and even though my dad was a tall Alpha, he was the sweetest and quietest man I’ve ever known. I always questioned my parent’s bond, wondering what brought the Alpha and Omega together. They never spoke of their past, never told the story of their mating. I have seen the mark on my mother’s neck and the matching one she gave my father but I never understood how the two of them found each other and stayed together for so long. They never really fought but they never showed affection either. It was an odd relationship and not the one I wanted to mirror.

Anyway, I ended up in college a few hours away, living in the dorms and living my own life. I could finally dress the way I wanted, hang out with who I wanted and do everything that I wanted. I got to experience what life could be like outside of my mother’s control. But I still hadn’t presented. It wasn’t entirely uncommon. Some people just presented late or maybe I wasn’t going to present at all, which I was still hoping for. 

Senior year finally came and the moment I stepped into my room for my last year, I stripped out of my dress, shedding my summer identity and relaxed after months of being home. I had the same roommates for the past three years, Tyler, Kiera, and Mike. We started together so we swore we’d end it together. What no one had expected was Mike’s mom to pass away unexpectedly and him dropping out to stay home to help his dad take care of his three little sisters. That meant that there would be a last minute roommate thrown into our suite. 

Not that I hated the idea of a new guy but training them when we were all set in our ways wasn’t something I necessarily looked forward to my last year of college. And from what I heard, it was going to be a freshman which made it even more annoying. But I wasn’t going to let it bother me, I was going to look on the bright side and all that. 

How was I supposed to know that the new roommate would arrive before me? So there I was ripping my dress over my head, bearing it all without even thinking about it and the poor freshman was frozen in the middle of the room. With dropped jaw, her eyes were not on my face. I stood there in my underwear, in front of a gorgeous blonde, lost in silence as she looked me up and down. My skin warmed and I knew I was bright red. She, on the other hand, smirked and her arms moved to cross over her chest. 

“Quite the first impression, Miss Johnston.” She cooed and my lips parted in a sigh at the sound of her smooth tone. 

I wanted to say something, wished I could make a sound of any kind but for some reason I was completely enraptured. Stunned and locked in my own body. This wasn’t the first woman to ever see me nearly naked and yet I never felt this hot. I couldn’t explain the way her gaze made my skin burn and tingle, the way she smelled, the way she made my heart race and nearly burst from my chest. The butterflies in my stomach turned to bats then into pterodactyls before I was bent over in pain, covered in sweat. 

It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was painful and yet arousing. My core clenched around nothing and I was panting and breathless, writhing on the floor. She was on her knees and at my side within a second and the moment her skin touched mine, it seemed to ease the pain just a little. But it also left me wanting more. I groaned but it sounded more like a moan as her fingers burned a trail down my bare arm. I could hear her own breathing speeding up and her eyes were wide and dark, holding something I could only explain as desire mingled with her concern. 

Her smell became overwhelming and intoxicating, to the point it was making me lightheaded and dizzy. My eyes closed as I breathed her in and the way she continued to touch me, assured me that I wasn’t the only one affected by whatever was happening between us. I didn’t know what to do, how to respond or what to say in that moment but when my eyes opened and caught hers, I knew I was a goner. 

“Alpha.” The word was a whisper on the girl’s tongue and I was confused. She took my hand and lifted it to press it against her heart. It was as quick as a hummingbird’s wings and the feel of it made me hum with appreciation. I still didn’t understand but when she laid down on the floor next to me and curled herself against me, I didn’t care what was happening. “You’re going into rut.” Her lips were within reach of my own as she breathed the words against me. 

My eyes widened in fear at the realization. I was presenting. And I wasn’t an Omega. I was Alpha. The fear turned to relief and the relief turned to elation, a wide smile parting my quivering lips. My arms wrapped around the petite woman and my lips crashed against hers hungrily. She melted into my kiss and molded her body tight against me, hands touching, exploring, memorizing each other. I never studied the ins and outs of the Alpha/Omega dynamics, the science behind bonds and mating and all that. But in that moment, it all just seemed to click. 

“Omega.” My voice was husky against her mouth and I swallowed down the moan the word dragged from her. Years of training to be an Omega, I never could have expected to present as an Alpha. I never could have expected the rush, the pain, the pleasure, the desire of a rut and the high and Omega’s heat caused. And that’s what was happening. The moment we were thrust into the same room, she triggered my presentation and I sent her into her heat. 

“Jo.” She breathed as I nibbled on the soft flash of her neck. I hummed in question at the word and when she said it next she was a little louder and her nails dug into the muscle of my shoulders. “Jo Harvelle. My name.” She didn’t say anything for a moment as my tongue laved into her clavicle. I seemed to hit a sensitive spot because she moaned my name. “Trisha.” 

“Kay.” I corrected, nibbling on her skin with a chuckle. “Call me Kay.” She had clearly done her homework, learning my name so she didn’t come in blind. It was more than I had done. I didn’t even check to make sure when she was coming in. But now I was hyper aware of her and I couldn’t believe I had ever lived without her. 

There we were, on the floor, making out like horny teenagers, me in my underwear and her in these ass tight jeans and thin black tank top. She was humping my thigh and making the most delicious noises as she grinded herself closer and closer to climax. I had made out with plenty of girls, had plenty of one night stands and yet none of them were anything like this. They had all been Betas, everyday average girls that smelled like vanilla or cotton candy. But Jo. She was so much different than anything I had ever known.

She smelled so sweet and tasted even sweeter. I couldn’t wait to taste the slick that I could smell and I could feel the heat against my thigh. We knew nothing about each other, other than the fact that we were made for each other. I rolled her onto her back and resting my knees on either side of her hips, I rutted against her as our tongues tangled and she pulled at my hair. 

The clearing of a throat wasn’t even enough to pull us away from each other. Whoever had walked into the room obviously gave up when they smelled the intense mingling of our arousal. No one intruded again after that. Good thing too, because for hours we were on that floor, orgasm after orgasm and I didn’t understand how it would be possible for an alpha female to knot but I learned quickly and I learned I loved to make her scream. 

I never realized how long a rut could last especially the first one but I was out of commission for nearly a week and poor Jo missed the first days of classes because of her heat. But we really got to know each other. Hours of talking in between hot and sweaty fucks. We talked about dreams and wishes, fears and pains. It wasn’t until the fifth day that we started talking about our families. 

I learned that her father had died when she was young and that it had just been her and her mother ever since. Her mother was controlling and wanted something for her that she didn’t want at all. She didn’t even want to be in college but went anyway to please her mother. We commiserate in the fact that we both had overbearing mothers. Her mom sounded a lot better than mine though. But Ellen and Bill were both Beta so Jo wasn’t expected to be an Omega. She told me about how she had never been with an Alpha. What was even more surprising was the fact that she had never been with a woman before. She could have fooled me. It sounded like her mother would be accepting and supportive of her choice of an Alpha. 

Mine was going to be a different story. My mother was going to have a cow when she hears that I presented as Alpha. What makes it worse was the fact that my Omega was a woman. A woman that was four years younger than me, a girl just starting her college career. She was from Nebraska, she had a knife collection and knew how to shoot a gun. She had been raised in a bar full of hunters, rugged, Alpha males wearing plaid and smelling like blood, sweat, and liquor. I didn’t know Bambi killers had their own hangouts but Jo just laughed at me when I said that. This girl was everything I wanted and everything that my mother didn’t. 

The relationship was kept hush hush. There was no way I could tell my parents, at least not right now. I just needed to focus on graduating, getting a job, and starting my own life. I needed to get to know her, have her to myself and not deal with the drama sharing her would bring. So our friends knew about us but outside of the campus property, no one was the wiser. 

I always thrived at college, got good grades, excelled in my classes, I even managed a full time job along with getting all my assignments and projects done. It was no surprise that I was able to maintain a relationship at the same time. Jo didn’t seem as easily acclimated to college life. She tried working part time but between classes, homework, and being with me or friends, she just wasn’t keeping up. The only friends she knew were mine, the only parties she went to were ones I took her to, she quit her job and still couldn’t keep up with her schoolwork. I was starting to think after only one semester that she wasn’t cut out to be here. She even said herself that she didn’t want to come in the first place and even though she was glad she did because she met me, she really didn’t think she would stay after I graduated. 

I told her to at least finish out the year. She agreed and when we parted for Christmas, she made me promise that I would try and talk to my mom about everything. I told her I would try and talk to her as often as I could but it didn’t make it easier to part. When she dropped me off at the airport, we waited until the last moment to pull away and I nearly missed my flight because I didn’t want to let her go. She was crying as she waved to me and I just smiled comfortingly as I waved back and disappeared. 

I know I promised her that I’d talk to my mother but I had talked myself out of it during the short flight home. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like I could keep some things secret. The moment I drew close to my parents who were waiting for me in the airport, I knew that they knew. The reactions were totally different. My dad seemed surprised but indifferent, almost as if he had expected it. My mom on the other hand, was utterly mortified. This of course, led to quite the fight. Between my Alpha temperament and my mother’s fiery temper, we could have easily gone to blows if it wasn’t for my dad. 

She tried to get me to go to get a forced transformation, still trying so hard to get me to be Omega. When I told her I couldn’t do that to my Omega that started a whole new discussion. She looked down on male omegas which I found funny and she hated that I was laughing when I told her I didn’t have a male Omega. I finally just walked away and locked myself in my room. Jo was the first person I called. I hated when I cried but I couldn’t help it, I broke down. She offered to drive down and get me and as much as I wanted to be with her, I couldn’t run away right now. 

I managed to have some time with my dad and got to have a quiet conversation about everything. And that was when he finally told me the real story behind him and my mother. A lot of stuff began to make sense the more information he shared. They had dated in high school but broke up when my dad went off to college. They didn’t talk for all four years while he was away and in that time, my dad had found an Omega. He said that she was his one and he even claimed her. 

A terrible car accident had taken her life and dad nearly died as well. He survived but he wished that he had died along with his Omega. But somehow he carried on. He was in a hotel bar one night, traveling for his job and he saw my mom for the first time in years. She was beautiful and he was lonely. Things got heated and somehow they ended up in the back of her Rover, a mattress in the back since she had been living in it for the past few months. He didn’t know what happened but somehow he ended up claiming her that night. My dad, the good guy that he is, stayed with her even though she wasn’t the one he wanted. My heart broke for my dad but at the same time I had respect for a man that would take care of my mother even though he didn’t love her. He grew to love her but it wasn’t the same love he held for his lost Omega. 

I didn’t understand why he was telling me now after all these years. But the more I thought about it, the more it made me understand my mother. It didn’t justify her actions or her attitude but it made me realize why she was the way she was. She was claimed, had been taken care of by a man that didn’t even want to be her Alpha. She had a home, a family and yet she never had that person, her true mate. Her Alpha’s heart would always belong to someone else, not fully to her. She had wanted to live vicariously through me and my sister. Make us into the best Omegas and then help us find our true Alphas. It still didn’t explain why she was so against me being Alpha and finding my Omega. So I decided I’d go ask her. 

She heaved a sigh and I knew I was in for a long story. Another story that I wasn’t prepared for and definitely wasn’t expecting. “I wasn’t presented yet when I originally met your father in high school. Like you, I was being raised to be an Omega, just like my mother before me. I liked your father but I had my eyes on someone else. But because of my family, I couldn’t be with that other person. I was only dating your father so I could secretly see this other person. He never knew. The poor guy seemed heartbroken when we broke up. But I was glad to hear that he had found his Omega. In the meantime…” Her lip quivered and her eyes looked down for a moment, the words she was about to say clearly painful. I hadn’t meant to bring up old painful memories but I needed to know. I nodded for her to continue and she sniffled before nodding in return. 

“I presented as an Alpha.” Her words shook me and I couldn’t do anything but stare at her with wide eyes. She nodded, assuring me that she spoke the truth. I couldn’t say a word and so she continued with her tale. “My friend…she was Omega.” The pieces seemed to fall into place and my jaw dropped. My mother’s story was exactly like mine. “My father found us, at a concert in Tucson. Drug me back home and I never saw her again. I’m sure she thought I abandoned her. I never forgot her but eventually I had to move on.” She pulled the shoulder of her blouse down, showing me a tattoo of a butterfly with the name ‘Stacia’ within it. “My mother made me go through the transformation into Omega. It was a long painful process, something I never would wish on anyone.” She looked at me and I could see the apology written in her gaze. I just took her hand and nodded, giving her my wordless forgiveness. 

“I was running away again when your father found me at the hotel bar. We were both heartbroken and lonely and one thing lead to another and we ended up claimed in the same Rover where I had almost claimed my own Omega. I love your father, truly I do. But we both lost the loves of our life all those years ago and we have just never been the same. He’s my best friend and we’ve helped each other through everything.” 

“Then why do you want me to be an Omega? If you were forced to be changed and you lost your chance at an Omega, why would you want to do the same thing to me? I would think you’d want to encourage me to go after the one thing you never had.” She began to cry as I spoke, nodding her head before she sobbed. I regretted my words and I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. She sobbed for a while, releasing years of pain and sadness and the weight of it made me cry right along with her. I understood my mother now more than ever. 

As if she could shut off her emotions, her head shot up and she looked at me with intense wide gaze, her hands resting on my shoulders. “You have to be with her. Don’t let her go just because of your family. You deserve to be happy. Don’t settle, don’t change for anyone. Go after your happiness.” Her tear stained cheeks wrinkled as she smiled softly as she caressed my cheeks. “You’re perfect just the way you are and I’m so sorry I tried to change you.” 

“Do you still have that Rover?” I asked with purpose. Her eyes lit up as her smile grew. She nodded and quickly rose from her bed and took my hand, rushing from the room. Dad didn’t seem confused as we rushed to the garage to the pile of rubble and junk. She let go of me and frantically began to dig, things being thrown left and right. A tarp finally came into view and when she was able, she ripped the fabric away to reveal the old Land Rover that I knew my mother could have never been able to afford. 

She smiled and leaned into the front seat and pulled out the keys and turned to me. She placed the keys into my hand and then hugged me tightly. “You’ll put it to better use.” She pulled back and gave me a wink. “Put the mattress to use again.” She giggled when my cheeks turned pink. “Go get your Omega. Bring her back here. I would love to meet the woman that was lucky enough to get you.” A tear slid down my cheek and I hugged her again. After I pulled away, I wasted no time and hopped into the SUV, hoping that it still ran. I wasn’t surprised though when it roared to life. I was sure that my mom would keep it up and running if not just for nostalgia’s sake. 

I called Jo, told her about my mother and all the stories I had been told over the day. I told her to pack a bag and that I was on my way to Nebraska. 

The Gazebo under a cherry tree

Also in here ao3.

Chapter 2

Day 1 of Wedding: Arrival The place was beyond beautiful if she was going to be honest. She had never been to this part of Georgia. It was a land of it's own, like a mansion straight out of Disney movie, it screamed elegance, grace, beauty, exquisite, luxurious and most of all it screamed like a perfect happy ending. Beca suddenly felt really sick in her stomach, second thinking if this was actually a very good idea. The ride itself with Aubrey driving made her nauseous enough. Not that the blonde was a bad driver, she was just easily carsick in addition to her internal anxiety of the impending doom the wedding service was about to give her. They were the first ones to arrive but Beca decided to wait on the other Bellas while they stood leaning on the car in the parking lot preferring to go together as a group rather than just both of them, to hopefully hide her own discomfort of the whole thing from the bride itself. The endless tapping on the glass window of the car made by none other than Beca earned a quick hard slap upside the back of her head. Beca's anxiety paused itself as she turned to half heartedly glare at the blonde tyrant beside her. "Your fidgeting isn't helping both of us and it is in fact very fucking annoying. So stop and calm down, will you? You said you'd compose yourself, better start now than later. Just focus on the Bellas since you haven't seen all of them in forever. Okay, hobbit?" The classic harsh bite was present but knowing Aubrey long enough, she knew it was out of concern. So she merely scowled crossing her arms to prevent the fidgeting, knowing very well her friend was right. She didn't have time to sulk when a loud shriek distracted her train of thoughts. The Bellas all of them looking a little older but very much the same sent a wave of nostalgia and relief seep out of Beca's skin. All of them came running for a group hug, that Beca was sure if she wasn't so heart broken she would have shook off immediately but she leaned into all of their touch, welcoming the warmth of her family that she had missed dearly. As they all pulled apart, a hard pat on Beca's back sent her tumbling over a few steps. "Shawshank! You got a lil bit tanner! Finally out of your vampire studio?" The other Bellas chuckled at the sight. Beca simply rolled her eyes, missing the Aussie blonde way too much to care about her comments. "It looks nice on you though! You seem like you're glowing." Emily who looked like her face structure had definitely matured a bit more was still the sweetest Beca remembered her to be. Unbeknownst for Beca, Emily always thought the two captains had been together since she started college. But was completely brought to harsh realization they were in fact not together. "You too, Aubrey. The LA lifestyle taking effect on you too huh." Cynthia Rose mentioned. Stacie smirked at the sight, glancing at Aubrey from up to down making the blonde look away to hide her blush. "Anyway, you ready for this aca-bitches?! Coz I'm not. I don't think I can take another wedding after seeing two dingoes get married back home." The Bellas just shook their heads at the Australian, always impressed with whatever comes out of her mouth. "You know, in my country. You have to first offer your chickens, siblings and your house in order to get married" Flo's random and almost always very weird comments was now a norm that they have missed back in the college days. They all started their way towards the entrance, Stacie falling behind with Beca as she wrapped her arm around the tiny brunette. "How you doing, B?" Her tone was soft and much more gentle than her casual teasing tone she usually used. Which almost made Beca tear up then, her emotions out of control but she forced a grin out shrugging, "The best I can manage." There was no point in lying. Stacie knew, even back in her college days, she knew before Beca even did. She never spoke of it but she somehow was always there for the tiny captain, very much how Aubrey was to her now. "How are you and Bella? And have you finally made a move with Aubrey?" Beca dared to ask as she swayed away from the topic Stacie was trying to get to. The tall brunette lets out a laugh, "Bella is wonderful and growing fast. I almost feel old. She's with my mom right now." She stared up front, her eyes falling to a certain blonde happily conversing with the other Bellas who were now stood at the lobby waiting, "And as for her, soon is all I can say. She's pretty much my everything second to Bella of course." Beca recognized the sentiment and fragile way her tall friend spoke about Aubrey. She lets a genuine smile on her face for once, "Well, don't wait too long. Don't fuck up like I did." Stacie felt a wave of sadness as her brows furrow looking down at the woman beside her, her smile barely reached the emptiness present in her eyes. Before she could say something, a familiar voice rang loud in the resort lobby. "Bree!" Both of their heads whip towards the direction of the voice. Beca for the first time that day, felt like someone knocked all the air out of her lungs. Stacie quickly noticing the drained look on her face turned around to block her view. She grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her tight. "B. I need you to be really strong right now, okay? I know you agreed to go. I know how much this is all to take in but I need you to know we all are here. You don't have to face her alone. This is just day one. It'll be done before you know it. We got your back no matter what, Cap." She quickly whispered pouring as much sincerity she could manage. Beca's eyes were stinging from the tears begging to be let out but she blinked them back shutting her eyes tight as she hugged the tall brunette back as tightly as she could. The other Bellas noticing Stacie and Beca in the corner of their eyes, they knew as well. How heartbreaking this was for their former captain. They watched their captains pine over each other for years, only for it to end up nowhere. Here they were now. They were also prepped by Aubrey, like they were back in college before the blonde graduated, when they were told to look out for Chloe but now it was apparently Beca's turn. It tore and frustrated the Bellas but they always did listen, they looked out for family no matter what. As each Bellas took their turns to hug the redhead. Beca took the deepest breath she could manage, shaking her hands vigorously to shake off the sweat that had gathered on her palms from all the anxiety. She finally opened her eyes to meet the tall brunette's gaze infront of her and with determined eyes nodding. Stacie grinning moved out of her way instead standing beside the music producer, her right arm around her shoulders as she pinched Beca's cheek playfully. "Time to put on that celebrity smile of yours. It's time." Stacie whispered through her grinned teeth, her gaze focused ahead where they were now walking. Beca shoved her hands in her pocket, wearing the biggest smile she could manage as she took in the redhead that now stood infront of her. Her hair was somehow a lighter shade of red than before and was now cut shoulder length. It was mixed a little bit of blonde that seemed to be growing out on the ends. Her eyes still glowed that beautiful, breathtaking crystal blue no one could ever match but she noticed the slight dullness whenever she smiled. It didn't completely reach her eyes. The smile that caused crinkles on the corners of her baby blues. The smile when Beca makes a joke and it makes the redhead laugh so loud until she's bending over frontwards trying to contain herself. The smile so contagious that it radiates to anyone and everyone who is within 100 feet of her distance. The smile she could spot in a crowded room. The smile she was so damn in love with. "Stacie!" The tall brunette lets go of Beca leaning forward to give the redhead a long hug. Beca's breath hitching as Chloe's eyes met hers for a brief moment. When they pull apart, she could barely hear their small talk or whatever catching up they were speaking of until Stacie stepped aside and Chloe finally turned towards her. "Becs." It was a sickeningly soft tone, the tone that always made Beca weak. The nickname tugging her heart strings, how she missed being called that by the only person who can make it sound so damn precious. The tone that was now poison for Beca's veins, making it so excruciatingly bittersweet. "Hey Chlo. Congratulations." It was her half ass attempt, the only thing she managed to form actually words on without stumbling on them. She accompanied it with her signature smirks that she knew always worked. Before she knew it, two strong arms wrapped around her neck pulling her into a warm, familiar hug. It caused Beca's skin to light up almost burning with the sense of familiarity that was seeping out of this moment. She tried to hold back but she had to somehow return the hug, her one hand still in her pocket while the other circled around the redhead's waist gripping on the ridiculously yellow sundress she was wearing. She couldn't tell if it was her own heart hammering on her chest or Chloe's, either way the sense of warmth her former bestfriend emitted somehow managed to calm all her nerves down. Which was pretty ironic but she was reminded why she was here, no matter how heart breaking it was. She wanted Chloe to be happy. She deserved the best that life could give her even if the best wasn't Beca herself. Their hug lasted seemingly longer than the others, which was embarrassingly so as Beca felt heat rushing up her cheeks. She saw the sad smiles on the Bellas faces that even Amy wore instead of her usual smirk and comments about 'Bloe'. "Okaaaay!" Thankful for Amy always breaking the thick awkward tension in the air as she clapped her hands. "So Gingy, what do you have for us in this fairytale mansion here? Do our rooms have hot tubs? Oh! Is there a free breakfast buffet?" The others around chuckled at the Blonde's antics. Chloe glanced at Beca one last time before turning her attention to the Bellas leading them to their designated rooms. Beca let them walk further before she started to follow quietly. She let out a relieved sigh. To her surprise, Emily stayed back with her offering one of her gentle smiles and her rare silent company. Beca was extremely grateful. They followed behind the group letting Chloe's voice muted in her ears as she toured them around.

xxx

Each of the Bellas had to share a room with another person which they were all thrilled about, haven't lived with each other for a long time. Jessica and Ashley, of course, Fat Amy and Cynthia Rose, Lily and Flo. Beca had decided to room with Emily, refusing Aubrey's persistence to room with her for the her own sake and for Stacie's who would love to be with the blonde. They all were settling down before they had to go for the dinner with the Beales and Walps. Chloe had already left to go meet with Chicago. Emily noticed Beca's glum mood who was sat on her bed staring blankly at the closet door infront of her. The young brunette texted all the Bellas to meet her in the room to somehow lighten up the mood, not knowing how to do it herself. Just within a few minutes, each of the Bellas entered with Fat Amy leading. Stacie and the Australian blonde ran their way on Beca's bed jumping on it before making themselves comfortable. This shook Beca from her trance state scrunching up her face at her friends. She scowled at them but they merely grinned ignoring the brunettes attempt to push them out. The other Bellas were sat on Emily's bed and the floor. "Alright Pitches! Time to pre-game!" "You do know we are not in college anymore, Amy." The Australian scoffed, "Never too old to drink. Plus it's only for this weekend. We gotta go to a bar and get something in our system to get through this day." Stacie raised a brow at her antics, she knew she was trying to get Beca to loosen up knowing how she was like with alcohol. However, she knew it was a dangerous play knowing the music producer's emotions were at peak. In pure instinct, she locked eyes with Aubrey as if already have read her mind. "How about we drink in moderation? It's a formal event. Plus we can't get wasted before the dinner. The parents are there. We don't want to cause any embarrassment for Chloe, do we now?" Aubrey firmly stated as she threw a knowing stare at the specific source of most the troubles. Amy immediately mocked an angel pose giving her brightest smile as she drew an imaginary halo above her head. The girls then gets distracted once Emily pulled out a deck of Uno cards. As all of them knew no one was too old for uno. In midst of their unknown several games, Beca glanced around the set of arguing full fledged adults over a card game, a smile softly graced her lips. They all were now settled on the floor in between Beca's and Emily's bed. Lily was clearly cheating as she used one of her unknown tools to look over Amy's set of cards who was too distracted trying to 'subtly' look over Flo's set. Aubrey was busy scolding Jessica and Ashley for teaming up and switching cards as she recited the whole rule book loud and clear. Stacie being Stacie had a card hidden in her bra as Cynthia Rose caught her shoving it inside and was now trying to grab it by inappropriately sticking her hand inside her front while Emily watched completely horrified. Beca was so thankful to call these children at heart her family. She knew the weekend maybe the hardest of all she had ever faced but they were there to distract her, to keep her mind from dwelling too long, to pick up all the pieces that will fall as they go through the wedding hoping to fix her up in one piece one day.

xxx

Once they were all texted to get ready soon to meet up downstairs in the restaurant lobby, it had slipped Beca's mind about the Beales actually being present in their own daughters wedding. The thought had caused her to almost run back up to her room and suddenly call in sick but remembering it was a three day event and there was no escape. She was going to see them eventually. Also with much force from Aubrey and Stacie who had to physically drag her out of the bathroom. Her anxiety disappeared in to thin air as she caught sight of the family who apparently had already seen her first. Chloe's mom, Claire Beale basically sped walk towards Beca with her arms wide open, unknowingly the brunette's legs had did the same and met her half way. Claire's warmth immediately sending Beca off the edge. She felt some tears betray her as it escaped from her sockets staining the Beale's sky blue blouse. Claire already sensing the soft sob that escaped the small brunette in her arms just squeezed her tighter. Beca's face tucked in her ash blonde hair. "I know, honey. It'll be okay." The familiar soft whisper so identical to her daughter's almost sent another wave of tears to come up but she completely stopped by gritting her teeth as hard as she could and letting out a small mirthless chuckle. As she pulled away her smile trembling, "I just missed you guys, is all." The almost identical shade of blue eyes shine back at her filled with pure worry and love. She knew. Beca was pretty damn sure in all those days she went with Chloe back home, the older woman knew before she herself did. "I know that look" Claire Beale stood beside her sipping her tea as she followed Beca's gaze. Chloe who was playing around with her younger toddler cousins, carrying them on her shoulders and making animal noises as her laugh echoed in the walls of the warm living room. Beca slightly blushed embarrassed for being caught staring, but not understanding what the older Beale meant. All Beca knew then was she enjoyed seeing Chloe happy, she loved hearing her laugh, she loved seeing that smile that she pretty sure was the source of the warmth on that cool December day in the Beales household and not the fire place's doing. Claire Beale was the mother Beca had always needed, as her own was somewhere her locations unknown since she was 18. God, if only she was the one getting married, she would be blessed to have such a bigger extended, accepting and welcoming family that her heart always craved for. "And we missed you too, kid." A deep, low voice spoke right beside the older woman. "Mr. Beale." Beca who was now grinning wider than ever. "How many times do I have to tell you, it's just Richard. I'm not that old." The ginger headed tall man jokingly scolded as he leaned down to offer a short but tight hug almost lifting Beca off her feet. "Oh, I know. I just do it to annoy you, Mr. Beale" Richard Beale let out a full on loud laugh definitely causing some stares from other people. His laugh still slightly obnoxious but Beca had gotten used to it compared to her old self who would not stand near anyone who would laugh like a caveman. The air being knocked off her lungs distracted her thoughts as she was suddenly being twirled around in a big bear hug, her tiny arms tucked in huge ones. "Clay! Get the hell off me!" She laughed out loud only a slight irritation in her voice. She knew exactly who it was. The youngest of the Beales. Chloe's little brother, 10 years younger to be exact. Clay Beale, who was probably not so little anymore judging from how she had not seen him in almost 5 years. Once she finally felt the earth on her feet again, her left fist instinctively hitting the dirty blond haired boy with darker blue eyes like his father, on his bicep. The boy let out a small yelp, causing his parents to laugh at him. "Dude! Did you get taller? What the hell. Last time I saw you, you were about not too tall from me!" Beca only now noticing his height which could be at least almost a foot taller than she was. Clay grinned sheepishly. "You just got smaller, lil dude" The height joke completely missing Beca as she suddenly felt nostalgic at the nickname she used to have for him when he wasn't even in college yet. Chloe and her used to play jokes on him about not being the height he was supposed to be at his age at that time. Clay quickly noticing the flash of sadness appear on Beca's face, leaned in for a much gentler hug. "Definitely missed you, Bec." The brunette was internally scoffing at how much the family had made her so soft. The whole family radiating the light and warmth Chloe did were stirring up emotions inside her that might boil out of control. "Why aren't you the groom for this wedding?" The sudden grumble from the blond Beale took Beca aback, surprised that he even noticed anything going on between her and Chloe. A back slap on the same bicep Beca punched caused him to scowl at his mom who was smiling brightly pretending like she didn't do anything. "Just saying. She'd be a cooler in law" it was barely audible but Beca heard it loud and clear. The boy's frown deep, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared angrily at the floor. She also noticed Richard's hand reach up to his son's shoulder giving it a light squeeze with a sad smile on his lips. Her heart soared for a moment then completely plummeted to the floor, the realization hitting her harder than ever. If she had acted upon her feelings, the Beales were all ready to accept her in a whim. The regret swelling in her chest was making it harder to breathe. Just before the anxiety started to eat her inside out, she hears Aubrey behind her coming up and greeting the Beales with excited hugs. The Bellas behind her making their way for polite greetings and first time introductions for some of them. "Aubrey, darling. It's been way too long!" While Aubrey and Claire started catching up, The Bellas filled up details of their prime years to slightly embarrass the blonde. Beca deciding to push all her feelings aside as she stared at Clay who now looked a little annoyed while Richard was whispering beside him. "Hey kiddo, have you still been making remixes?" Clay's face lightened up instantly, a lopsided smile growing on his face. "Dude. Hell yeah I am. I'm getting so good at it. I'll show you them later. I'm doing it as a side thing though. I'm taking music business as my major right now so I can be like you but actually own the business without working for other people!" He explained excitedly. Beca beamed proudly at the youngest Beale. She had been teaching him whatever she knew whenever Chloe and her visited. It was too hard to deny a young boy with wide blue curious eyes and even bigger dreams. It surprised Beca at first how natural and easy Clay had caught on with how to mix and mash up songs. He was lowkey one the inspiration she used to make the last few sets of their acapella years. The kid was definitely going somewhere.

xxx

As they got lost in the conversation, she failed to notice the arrival of the main Beale that was the prime source of her heart ache. Chloe had actually arrived a little bit earlier deciding to let Chicago pick up his parents from the airport while she met up with her own parents who she knew were always an early bunch. She was making her way towards them but stopped herself when she noticed her mother speed walking towards Beca to scoop her up in a hug. The scene infront of her made her chest suddenly tighten, her breath catching in her throat, she had forgotten how close her family had grown with Beca. Her family insisted every visit to bring the petite brunette after the first ever meeting. Her parents had welcomed Beca more than anyone she had taken home. Her dad immediately clicking with her because of their same dry sarcastic humor, while her mom just adored the passion and confidence that Beca carried. Clay on the other hand admired the brunette, beyond words he saw her as an idol and as an inspiration. He had admitted it to her before when he finally figured out what he wanted to do in the future. Of course her family didn't fail to notice her deep love for Beca then, they always supported her and urged her to tell the brunette. However, that never happened as Chloe was sure it was nothing but unrequited. So she moved on. She watched the scene unfold infront of her as her dad then her brother gave their hugs, Clay's being super excited as he twirled the brunette around in a bear hug. The look on Beca's face of pure contentment at seeing her family, her eyes were shining, smile so wide she forgot Beca was capable of that smile, remembering the days it was only meant for her. The rare occasional smile that was filled with love and pure happiness. The moment was causing her head to throb uncontrollably, her chest feeling heavy causing her breaths to come out short, she could feel her eyes stinging as her mind wandered to the dangerous thoughts of what it could've been. The what ifs section she had stacked away to the forgotten. The sound of Mrs. Walp's voice shook her thoughts away, as the Walp family approach her from behind. She felt her being tugged into a quick hug by her soon to be mother in law as she inhaled her fresh cigarette stench that reeked out of her skin. She had to internally scrunch her face to hide how much she despised the smell of cigarettes. Regina and Garrett Walp. Chicago's parents you could say was not something she expected the first time round. She admired their life's too short beliefs but questioned their ways of living it. They were still growing on her but she had learned to slowly accept them as they would soon be part of her extended family. They finally decided to join the Beales and the Bellas as they engaged into polite conversations and introductions while they all were headed to their seats. Chloe was never a big fan of awkward tension so she always did her best to somehow manage to clear that out but that was in the old college days when she felt bright and extremely confident. Now she was just a nervous bundle, the feelings from earlier bothering her internally, so she had no choice but to smile through it all. "So Beca Mitchell. I haven't seen you since the USO tour. How's the celebrity life treating you?" Chicago asked. Chloe noticed the slight hesitance in the brunette's expression before she quickly hid it behind a smile. "Been amazing, honestly. I mean it's definitely a lot of work but hey, that's what I've been dreaming of. Can't complain" She kept it short and simple which was a sign that she didn't want to elaborate. Chloe felt a little devastated of the fact that she wasn't the one Beca told all of her wild stories to anymore. From meeting fans and all her backstage experiences with meeting other new artists to her slight nervousness before she went on stage or working with famous singers who wants her to produce their work. It infuriated her because from college till Brooklyn and before that tour ended, Beca was part of her routine, part of what she knew like the back of her hand, part that involved her full attention that she loved showering on the petite brunette and vice versa when she was the only one to witness all these extremely undeniably lovable side of Beca. Loving Beca was part of her life, how she functioned on a daily basis, no matter how unrequited, what they had was enough for her to cherish. Or so she thought it was enough. Chloe didn't fail to notice how the producer seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her every time their eyes briefly past one another as she watched where the conversation was going looking at whoever was speaking. She couldn't blame her though as she herself was also to blame for her distant actions the pass few years. But she did notice the genuine smiles she had been letting out as she spoke enthusiastically with the Bellas around her, her posture seemed to be better too as she observed her not so slouched back anymore compared to their college days when Chloe had to scold Beca for slouching way too much that caused her back pain. Chloe's eyes traced the structure of the brunette's face, somehow it looked a little more shaped like she had lost some of the meat on her cheeks. Her skin glowing slightly coz of the tan that colored her old pale ones causing a slight skip in the redhead's heart rate as she absorbed how good the tan looked on the petite woman. She internally scolded herself to calm down, denying whatever is left of the feelings she took years to drain out. The laugh that echoed around the table definitely failed to help as she only recognized one specific laugh in the chorus of voices, hers. Internally sighing, she was second thinking if it was a good idea to have invited her to the wedding. But she knew it wouldn't be right if she didn't so she stuck to just cursing her troubled feelings inside. Although she couldn't help the way her stomach fluttered and her hands go weak at the sound of her laughter ringing in her ears. The slightly husky and adorably awkward sound that she hadn't heard in years suddenly feel heavenly and like a punch on the stomach simultaneously. She felt so wrong for thinking and feeling this way right now, in front of her fiance and his family. In front of the man who she said yes too. She couldn't believe herself, her heart, after all these years, she truly felt like she could finally let go yet it was just haunting her. She inwardly blamed it on the mere presence of the producer, which was harsh and she definitely didn't deserve any of it but she was doing so well. One thing Chloe hated in her whole life was feeling lost and unsure right after she had decided on something with full confidence. She had decided to simply engage herself with conversations that would not include Beca in anyway. Just throw in a kind smile and keep going. It was only the first day, she would make it. The dinner went well as expected, the rest of the Bellas decided to stay and grab a few drinks to taste their famous wine while the Walps and Beales head back to their rooms. Beca on the other hand went with Clay to see his remixes as promised but also to avoid the soon to be wed couple for the night who had decided to join the Bellas with drinks. First day was so far going well however it didn't help the fear of whatever the next few days had for her.

Ed Sheeran Imagine - Guiding Light, Chapter #1

You got home around 7pm, a bit later than the usual due to your boss comanding you to train the new interns. You love working there, it’s always been your dream to work in a book publishing company, but you’re tired, craving for a hot relaxing bath, your mattress and warm blankets. London is getting cold, and you laugh by yourself as you remember the motto “The Winter is coming” from Game of Thrones, the TV show you love watching with your fiancé, Ed, you’d also love having him by your side, cuddling with you, but he’s on tour now, and probably won’t be here that soon. You go upstairs straight to your bedroom, when you hear some noises in the room next door and decide to check it.

You aren’t expecting to find your fiancé there, as he’s been on Tour for his fourth album for nearly a year (practically the time you moved in together), and you barely had time to see each other since then. He’s on his studio room, sitting with his back to you, doing something on his laptop. His ginger hair is longer than you remember, and he’s wearing one of those dark-grey-blue flannels you love on him, making impossible for you to see his tattoos. You heart starts beating fast in you chest, you miss this boy so much the tears quickly fill in your eyes.

“Teddy?” you whisper, astonished, unable to raise your voice, sounding a bit trembling.

“Babe?” he turns towards you, the brightest smile on his face and his eyes, beautifully blue, are looking at you so deep and with such love, the air gets stuck on your throat. Oh God, you’ve missed all of this so bad! Though you’re always watching videos of his performances and interviews (you also chat on skype and facetime from times to times), it’s not the same when he’s live. The tears you’ve been holding back just fall down your cheeks “document.write(Mariana), love, what’s wrong?” he asks worried, standing up immediately and starting to approach you.

“Teddy!” you repeat, this time louder, and run to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.

“Love!” he chuckles, when he realises you’re not crying for being sad, hugging you tight as well “I’ve missed you!”.

“So have I” you murmur against the crook of his neck, breathing in his marvellous scent, and your brain automatically remembers you of it “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be doing gigs for at least a month before coming back home!” you say, raising your head to look into his bright blue eyes.

“Some of the concerts were unfortunatelly cancelled due to lack of security” he sighs. You know how much important this life is for him, which is why you’d never opposed to being away from him for so long. That is his happiness, and if he’s happy, so you are.

“Oh, I’m so sorry babe!” you caress his right cheek, right onto his scar.

“Yeah, well, now I have about two weeks and a half off. I can be with you, at least!” he gives you that smile. The one that makes your legs weaker and your heartbeating speeds up.

“Always the good side!” you smile back at him when he gently wipes off the tears from your face with his thumbs “What do you wanna do for tonight?” you ask, smiling wider when he lowers his hands back to your waist, holding you close to him.

“Hm…” he bites his lower lips and you laugh at his thinking expression “I thought we could stay here, and just chill out. Maybe order something to eat…”.

“Sushi!” you both say at the same time, giggling at each other. This is just one of your many compatibilities. Your tastes, your principles are so alike that it’s what makes your relationship so strong and beautiful, you believe.

“Alright, I’ll just change into something more comfortable and we can order it!” you say, pulling away from his arms slowly, not wanting to be apart from him for any other second. You’re reaching the door when something comes up to your mind and you turn around to face him, walking back to him.

You carefully remove his glasses document.write(glass), placing on the table beside you. You get on your tip toes and wrap your arms around his neck again so you can press your lips onto his. He pulls your body closer to his, hugging you and pushing his tongue into your mouth. It’s a kiss full of love, passion and missing, you can’t help letting a small whimper slip out of you when you taste him after so much time.

His fingertips press the small of your back, bringing you even closer as he moves his tongue slowly inside your mouth, carefully playing with your own. He lowers his hands to your butt, squeezing it a little and breaks the kiss as you need to catch some breath, smooching down to your neck, licking your flesh. Your heart jumps in your chest, your breath speeds up and you raise your hands to his fiery red hair, twisting it with your fingers and he groans into your skin, breathing heavily.

Suddenly you feel a hard form against your belly and you look down, frowning, only then realising that form is actually his manhood sticking you up.

You look back at him and you can’t help blushing deeply at his gaze. “I’m sorry” he says, his voice tone a bit lower and husky than usual, his cheeks also red. He looses the grip on your waist pushing you away slightly so you don’t feel him anymore.

You had already tried to make your mind up before so you can give yourself entirely to him, but your insecurities about your body and lack of experience never let you go any further then some kisses and clothed make out sessions. And as Ed is always controlling himself, extremely respectful of your “condition”, this kind of situation (you being able to feel him through your clothes) is kind of rare, unusual. He tries his best to not make you umconfortable, even if he has to stop himself from getting what he desires.

In addition, you know it’s been hard for him because he hasn’t being with any woman after his last relationship ended. Which happened about two years and a half ago, also the time you met each other and started dating a little while later. “It’s alright…” you say, biting your lower lip and smiling sheepishly “I’m gonna shower” you give him one last peck before heading to your shared bedroom.

Reaching there, you breath in and out slowly, gasping a bit. As you grab fresh and clean clothes and make your way to the bathroom, your mind flies back to the last moments you’ve spent together, and you are able to feel shivers of anxiety running through you. What if you had let him go ahead and make you his? Would he have liked you? Would he rather if…

“Love?” Ed calls you through the bathroom door, interrupting your thoughts. You’re almost fully undressed, except for the panties on your body. You quickly wrap a towel around yourself before opening the door enough so you can see his face “Yes?”.

“Hm… I just wanted to apologise again…” he pauses, sighing heavly, like when he’s disappointed with himself “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or like I wanted anything else from you this way, as if I was pressuring you. I promise I’ll control myself better from now on” he says looking straight into your document.write(brown) eyes. His blue ones looking extremely sorry.

“It’s okay, Teddy!” you open the door wider, smiling at him. You know he had no intentions in forcing you to do anything you didn’t feel like, and his cuteness and worry makes your heart melt “I know all of that, you don’t need to explain yourself! Don’t be upset!” you kiss his cheek “And… I kind of…” you take a breath and look at your feet, blushing “I do want this to happen, Ed!” you speak in a lower tone.

Ed brings your chin up, making you look at him “Oh! Really?” he frowns and then softens his expression, giving you an embarassed little smile “You don’t have to worry nor rush about it, baby, when you feel ready, you’ll know, and I’ll know that too”.

“No, baby, the thing is, I am ready, I’m only not sure how to do it” you admit “You know how I just simply freeze every time I am closer to get more intimate with you”.

“There’s no reason to be nervous, love!” he sweetly kisses the top your forehead, wrapping his arms around you firmly “I’m yours!” he murmurs in your skin and lowers his head to look into your eyes. His are glowing beautifully and you can see the love he feels for you right through them. And only then you realise you don’t have to be afraid or insecure, he’s always been there for you, he won’t judge you for your little flaws or the ones you think you have.

“And I’m yours!” you hold the towel against your body tighter with one arm and hugs him with the other. Standing on your toes, you kiss him slowly.

He breaks the kiss and chuckles “Hm… I’m gonna order for us while you take your shower, alright?” you nod “Anything special?”.

“Nope” you giggle “The usual is fine!” you wink and he nods, kissing the tip of your nose and releasing your body “Be quick, baby, I don’t want to be away from you much more!” he says softly, walking out of the room.

You sigh and close the door again, looking at your expression in the mirror: you seem fascinated by your new discharge of confidence. You smile, removing the towel and deciding to shave yourself completely, thinking maybe that’s the night you’ll finally surrender yourself to the love of your life.

…

You put on some of your favourite body lotion, your long sleeved pajamas top and pants. Going downstairs, you see Teddy setting the living room small table to yourselves.

“document.write(Mariana)?” he smiles wide when he notices you “What about document.write(King)?” he picks the DVD of your favorite animation movie and you grin at him. “Perfect!” you nod, approaching him.

“Alright. The food has just arrived” he puts the DVD on and two cushions on the carpet, sitting on one of them and tapping the other beside him.

You take the seat and he gives you the hashi “Thank you, Teddy!” you kiss his left cheek “You’re welcome, love!” he turns his head towards yours, giving a peck on your lips.

Ed brings the table closer to you both, and you start eating the delicious food. You take your time, watching him, so close to you, after almost a year: it’s seem like a dream! He has rolled his shirtsleeves up and you can finally see his tattos. You smile at the little red hand in his arm, it’s one of your favorites, the meaning is so sweet and so Ed that you can’t help melting and falling in love with him more at every second.

You obseve his face, from the left side, his light blue eyes, already focused on the movie, the birthmark highlighting the left one, his nose pointing up, the freckles on it and his cheeks, those cute and squeezable cheeks you love so much, and the light pink lips you wanna kiss all the time. All of it framed by his messy curled ginger hair.

“What?” he looks at you, frowning, when he realises you’ve been gazing at him.

“Nothing” you shake your head, grinning “Just recognising the incredible man I have by my side!” you wink and he blushes deeply and adorably.

“Ah!” he bites his lower lips “Thank you?” he chuckles with himself. “Just the truth!” you shrugh, turning your attention back to the food.

“I must say the same!” he says grinning “I’m the luckiest man in the world for having you!” he hugs you by your side, resting his arm on your shoulder and you lay your head on his, giving a small kiss on his neck and you feel him shiver.

You stay in this position, just watching the movie and enjoying each other’s company for a little while, when you both sit up to eat.

…

After eating and watching document.write(King), you decided to lay on the sofa, Ed behind you with his arms around your body “How’s your job?” he asks, breaking the silence first.

“It’s fine” you answer, a bit tired. Cuddling always makes you feel so comfortable and protected, you know you can spend the whole day in Ed’s arms, just relaxing or sleeping “There are more work to do now that document.write(Luana) reopened the internship program”.

“They should make things easier for the other workers, shouldn’t they?” you can imagine the wrinkle on his forehead as he asks, confused.

“Well, babe, they’re all new on the job, I can’t blame them. They have a lot to learn” you shrug. “I remember when you joined the company, love, we had met each other, what? Three or four weeks before. You had just graduated at the best British University at such a young age; you were a little genious! And still are, to be honest! You had no problems in becoming the best worker there!” he kisses your cheek.

You shake your head, smiling at his words and lean against him better, feeling his soft shape perfectly pressed to your back, looking at him over your shoulder “Hm…” he murmurs in you ear after a while “I still think you should come touring with me!”.

“I can’t sing Teddy, you know that!” you playfully tap his hand that’s holding your waist “What would I do on tour with you?”.

“Well, you can do your job on the road with me!” he says, smiling “Write your own book like you’ve always wanted, instead of translating and publishing someone else’s. You and I know how great your potential is, you don’t even need to think too much to create a beautiful story. And I know you already have a few with you, just waiting to be shown to the world” he smiles wider. You laugh hard at his statement. This boy is so cute you turn around just to squeeze his cheeks with your hands.

He giggles, caressing the side of your right thigh and you shift under his touch, feeling yourself getting anxious with what this nearer contact can lead to, and your heartbeats increase as he grips your flesh firmly. Ed pulls you down his body so he’s on top of you, looking straight into your eyes.

You put your hands around his neck and bring his face down for you to kiss him. You lick his lower lip, asking for permission to enter his mouth and he concedes immediately. A slow battle start between your tongues, as yours tries to explore his mouth and his is doing the same. He grasps your waist, as the kiss become more rougher and passionate, positioning himself in the middle of your thighs and you can now feel his bulge pressed in your core.

You even try to open the first buttons of his shirt, but your shaky hands make things more difficult. Ed chuckles during the kiss, helping you to take his cloth off and you grab his arms, feeling their strong features with your palms. You bite his lower lip gently, pulling it a little.

“document.write(Mariana), babe!” he whispers against your lips, breathing heavily. Ed lowers the kiss from your neck to the skin of your chest that is not covered by your pajama top. You feel this part of your body heavier, along with your breaths; your nipples are also getting harder as Ed’s hands start travelling up the side of your body, stopping right beside your breasts. He separate your lips, and looks down, his gaze stuck at your chest, making you blush.

Putting your hands on his chin, you gently raise his head, being able to see his eyes full of lust and desire. He rubs his crotch against your center slowly and you let out a soft moan, feeling his hard and thick form. You start to get wet down there, throbbing and anxious to be touched “Ed!” you twist your fingers in his hair, pulling his curls a bit.

Ed leans down and gives one last kiss on your jawline before sitting on his knees, panting and looking at you intensely. He runs his hands through his hair nevoursly and lowers them to the hem of your shirt.

You breath in and out a few times before nodding and he slowly removes your pajama t-shirt. You sigh in relief when you notice you had put your bra on, as you don’t wear it for sleep. Ed’s eyes roam over your upper body and you cover youself with your hands, as it gets difficult for you to breath, the same thoughts you had in the bathroom coming back to your mind. Apparently, exposing yourself is being harder than you thought it’d be.

“Love?” he frowns, caressing your hands, right beside the stretch marks on your hips. You were feeling so confident earlier you forgot about these little things that have let you down all these years; the reason why you’ve never been with a man before, with Ed specially. Your gasp, instantly pushing his hands away from your body and sitting up at the other far end of the sofa, with your legs pressed into your chest, looking down at your hands.

“I’m sorry!” you whisper, trembling, some tears threatening to spill over.

“What’s wrong?” he approaches you slightly “Did I push you too much?” he sounds worried and you shake your head.

“It’s not you, Ed…” you bite your lower lip, preventing you from crying.

“Hey, document.write(Mariana), look at me, please!” he caress your chin and when you look at his blue eyes, all you see is disappointment and you feel guilty you’re not strong enough to get over your insecurities and give him what he deserves. But what if he doesn’t deserve you? He surely deserves someone better! Your current thoughts are the last straw and you start crying, hiding your face in your hands “I’m so sorry!” you murmur, your voice sounding muffled.

“No! Don’t apologise, there’s no reason to apologise!” he hugs you, kissing the top of your head and caressing your back, trying to calm you down. You just feel more guilty with the care he stills shows over you and you start sobbing, leaning your head onto your knees. He stays there comforting you until you chill out, and you raise your head, ready to face him “Talk to me, love!” he caress your cheeks, frowning, worried.

“I didn’t mean to…” you shake your head, fighting with the tears once more “I didn’t want to disappoint you, I’m sorry!” you gaze at his eyes, sounding sincere.

“You didn’t disappoint me, babe! document.write(Mariana), believe me when I tell you you could never let me down. It’s alright if you’re not ready. I can wait no matter how long it takes for you to feel comfortable with that” he sweetly kisses your temple. Oh Lord, he doesn’t understand, does he? It’s not a behavioral thing, it’s a physical one.

“You need a woman, Ed. A real one. Someone who can give you what you want, what you need! Not a young little girl, like me, frightened with the idea of being naked for the guy she loves, I’m just not the one” you say quietly, your voice barely audible as you look away at your hands again.

“Stop with that!” his voice is a bit angry “You are everything I need” he cups your face carefully, looking deeply into your eyes “Don’t say that again. EVER!” he stresses, the despair in his voice hurting you more than any nasty thought you had about yourself “What are you so afraid of?” he frowns “It’s just you and me! You said earlier you were mine, do you recall it? I told you I was yours as well. I’m not pressuring you, I’m just trying to understand why you don’t believe me when I tell you you’re the woman of my life!” he bites his lower lip “You said yes, you agreed to be mine forever, remember?”.

Your heart skips a beat when your mind takes you to the moment Ed proposed to you, a year and three months ago, exactly the time he asked you to move in to his house.

…

A year and three months before

“I know I’ll be far away for a while, but we’ll talk to each other every day, I promise!” he pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. You’re at his bedroom, helping him package some clothes and objects for his travel.

It’s the first time Ed will begin a tour since you started dating and you’re a bit apprehensive about how your relationship would “survive” through it. You love him with all your being, but you know he’s a handsome famous man and you fear he’d find another girl around the world and kick you out from his life.

“Okay!” you nod, not wanting to show him your insecurities.

“And… he releases your waist, getting down to one knee. You heart starts jumping in your chest when he pulls a small box from his jeans pocket and opens it up to you, revealing a pair of silver rings. Engagement ones, your eyes immediately fill with tears "I love you with all my heart, document.write(Mariana). Only one year of relationship and you already made me feel like I should spend the rest of my days with you, I’ve never felt like that, you make me happy like I’ve never been before. I know we hadn’t talked about our future together as a marriage, but we don’t have to rush anything. Just being engaged, like a promess that well'be each other’s forever” he takes a deep breath "Would you give me the extraordinary honor of letting me be your husband? Would you like to be my wife?" he looks at you anxiously, his eyes brighting, waiting for your answer.

“Yes! Of course, Teddy!” you grin, thrilled, letting the tears fall. That’s all you needed to relax from inside out. Ed loved you more than you thought, after all.

He grins at you as well, his glowing eyes a bit watered and you lower your hands to his face, cupping his adorable cheeks, and wipping off some tears that he let slipped. Ed stands up and takes your hand in his. He puts the beautiful ring in the fourth finger of your left hand and kisses your knuckles. He sniffs and you smile at his sensitivity; Ed’s never afraid of showing his emotions to you, and you try to do the same with him, even being more difficult for you to open up with him about your feelings.

“Would you like to move in as well?” he asks, his voice trembling a little, bringing his hands back to your waist “You may want to stay in my place when you miss me too much”.

“Are you sure? Being engaged is one thing, but living together is another… And as you say, you won’t even be here, Teddy. This is your home” you state.

“This is our home, babe!” he presses the tip of his nose onto yours and you both smile.

“I’ll think about it!” you bite your lip, laying your head on his shoulder, breathing in his cologne, keeping it in your memory, as you know you won’t be able to do this for a while “We just got engaged. Just let it happen!” you kiss his neck and he pulls you in closer, hugging you tight.

“I’m going to miss you!” he whispers “So am I, love!” you speak against his skin.

…

And Ed was right. After about two weeks he left, you missed him so badly you just grabbed the keys he gave you, organised a few boxes with all your stuff and moved into his house. Of course you called him before to be certain his plans were still on. Well, he was so happy he almost flew back home just to make sure you had everything you needed.

“As if it were yesterday” you answer him.

“So you must remember that I love you, right?” you nod, giving him a side smile “Tell me what’s on your mind, preferably without putting yourself down”.

“Ed, I don’t really think you’d want to hear that…” you start. “I want to know, I need to. Tell me your fears, I’m here for you, document.write(Mariana)” he interrupts you, a serious expression on his beautiful face.

“It’s just…” you sigh, avoiding his eyes “You are perfect, you know? And I am not” you shrug.

“document.write(Mariana), I’m not perfect” he says, taking your left hand from your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze “No one is. I’m human, I have flaws and make mistakes. Like everyone else” he caress the back of your skin.

“I don’t mean this kind of imperfection, Ed” you risk a glimpse at him and you see the confusion on his face “I’m younger than you, Teddy. It wouldn’t be a problem, but you have more experience than me in absolutely everything and you have had other women as experienced as you, the complete opposite of me!”.

“Is it being younger a problem for you?” he frowns “You know…”.

“Babe!” you interrupt him, drawing his attention and he stops talking “I kind of haven’t finished speaking my mind yet” you bite your lip nervously. Is he tired of listening to your complains? You knew this was going to happen, and that’s why you never opens up…

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. Go ahead!” he blushes slightly, smiling embarrassed, interrupting your thoughts. “It's not exactly about age... I don’t feel… Physically capable of satisfying you” you finally reveal to him, holding your breath, waiting for his reaction. Will he be mad or agree with you?

“What? Why?” you finally look at him and he’s gazing at you, more confused, his very light brows almost meeting each other. “Look at me Ed, I’m not that attractive. Specially comparing myself with your ex-girlfriends”.

“document.write(Mariana), you know I’d never compare you to anyone else, specifically with my ex-girlfriends” he states “And you are attractive. I don’t know how or who made you think like that, but you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”.

“I think you need to change your glasses then” you say, chuckling, but you frown when he doesn’t show even a fake laugh, his face frozen in a serious look “I meant what I said, baby!” he says, gazing at you as if to prove his words “I am the one who should be asking myself what a young, beautiful lady like you is doing with his old lad here…”.

“No, Teddy! I love you!” you gently place your thumb on his lips, hushing him. “See that, document.write(Mariana)? I love you too. And that’s why I’m with you. I don’t care if you have a third eye or a third boob, I haven’t fallen for you because of your looks, and I bet you haven’t either” he says, with a small smile on his lips.

“It wouldn’t be so hard, you know? Falling for the way you look, Teddy” you play with his fingers that are still involving your hand.

“But have you? Have you fallen for me for the way I look? What was that, then? My scar or my tatoos? My birthmark or my belly?” he jokes, squeezing his soft belly covered by all that coloured tattoos. You grin at him, because the answer is so easy it just slips out of your mouth, without you thinking too much “It was everything” you confess “Not any of these, but all of them together, I’ve fallen for the whole group of things that makes you… Well, you!”.

“See it? And why can’t I love you the same? Why don’t you believe I love all of you? Since your smooth document.write(curly), document.write(yellow) hair, your document.write(hearted) face with your bright document.write(brown) eyes, your little nose, your extremely kissable mouth, this beautiful chest I don’t get to see very often because you rarely wear low-cut clothes. Your breasts I’ve been eager to see for a long time, even if I’m just being able to see their form right now” he winks and you blush, looking down at your boobs, covered by your document.write(blue) bra.

“This nice document.write(soft) belly of yours, I can tell you it is so much better than mine!” he chuckles and you smile timidly “I don’t care the size of it, nor your breasts or thighs size, I just want you, exactly the way you are, babe! All these perfect little things of you!” he grins at you “And I just love when you wear those pair of tight jeans and I can see your good-looking butt swaying around” your mouth opens in an “O” form, perplexed with his audacity, and he starts laughing at your face. This amazing sound you only have been able to hear by interviews or skype chats. The sound you most love to hear in the world; it is so contagious that you instantly starts laughing too, until your belly hurts and your eyes are filled with happiness tears.

“Oh babe!” you wipe the tears from your face and shakes your head, clarifying your mind “What about these things?” you turn your nose up, grabbing the flesh in your tummy, full of white thin strech marks. You got them when your body started to change from childhood to teenage years, and being young and unconcerned about them at the time, made you an insecure woman now that you actually care about them.

“What are those?” he approaches his hands to yours but you snap them before he can touch you. “No…” you hold his hands far from the marks, afraid of what he would feel if he touched them. “Do they hurt?” he asks worried. “Babe, haven’t you heard about strecth marks before?” you frown “Haven’t any of your ex-girlfriends had them?” your eyes wide when you think about this possibility. Were his exes that perfect?. “I don’t know, I mean, they probably had, but I wasn’t really paying attention to this kind of detail” he shrugs “You’re the first one who is actually caring about showing me them. And I’d probably never notice if you hadn’t shown me as well”.

You shake your head, knowing it’d be impossible for him not to see them “document.write(Mariana), it’s truth! All I think about when I see you this way is how perfect you are, and how lucky I am!” he smiles wide, taking you into his arms, sitting you onto his lap and kissing the top of your head. You feel his hands on your bare waist, near the marks and you tremble a little. He starts to trace the area with the tip of his fingers, certainly feeling the strange texture of your skin “It’s so lovely!” he whispers in your head, kissing it once more.

“Are you serious?” you ask in a low tone. You know he wouldn’t mock you for your features, but you hope he’s not liying just to make you feel better.

“Of course I am!” he raises your chin, so you can look at his eyes “I told you, I love all of you!” he grins and you sigh in relief, yawning afterwards “Let’s go upstairs! You must be tired!” he caresses your back, lifting you up on your feet.

“We won’t do anything tonight?” you ask as he stands up beside you.

“I think we should try it another day!” he wraps your waist with his ams and you pout a little bit frustrated “Oh babe, c'mon” he tickles the sides of your body and you throw your head back, laughing “I want you to be comfortable when we become one, document.write(Mariana)!” he leave wet kisses on your exposed neck, making sure to rub his beard on your skin, tickling it until you’re shaking in his arms. “Ed, babe!” you giggle, trying to push him away.

“Yes?” he stops the tickling session to look at you, wiggling his brows and smirking. You just shake your head, gasping a bit “I’m not tired!” you say, but another yawn coming from your mouth betrays you.

Ed smirks “You’re not tired, huh?” you shake your head “document.write(Mariana) don’t worry, 'cause we’ll have a lot of time to do this, baby. The rest of our lives!” he offers his right hand and you accept it “We can do other things, instead” he grabs your both hands, kissing their knuckles “Dance with me?” he asks, giving you one of his Puss in Boots eyes and you just can’t deny anything he asks; not when he does it looking that cute. You are not a very good dancer and neither is Ed. But it is one of these activities you know you can do together and alone, preferably, because no one will judge or make fun of you both.

You chuckle, nodding and he takes the cushions from the ground back to the sofa, afterwards pushing the table from the center to the corner of the room. Ed then walks to the radio, pressing some buttons to choose a song.

You grin when the first chords of one of your favourite songs, Guiding Light, starts to play. It is your favourite version of the song, only Ed singing (though you love Foy’s version as well) from a gig he played on thousands of years ago (8 to be more exact).

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6elKkAP33Z0

Ed walks back to you, grabbing your waist and holding you thightly against his body. You feel his bare and coloured soft chest and belly pressed to yours (although your chest is still covered). His hands lower to the small of your back and you raise yours to his nape, playing with the little orange curls there.

“I love you, document.write(Mariana)!” he whispers, caressing your skin, and you shiver with his touch.

“I love you too, Ed!” you close your eyes, resting your head on his chest, being able to feel his steady heartbeats through his skin. Ed starts leading the dance in a slow rhythm, following the song and you move your feet carefully, not wanting to step on his. Your head is close to the lion tattoo, and you lower your right hand, caressing the face of the animal.

He hums the song, his face on your hair, sending vibrations through your whole body. It’s so good being able to hear him so close, in private. You don’t make any sound, not only because you can’t sing, but because you just want to take your time, enjoying the recorded song and the live murmurs Ed’s been letting out.

Ed lifts you up a bit, so your feet are over his, and you chuckle when you realise you were moving too slow, even for the song. He chuckles as well, looking down at you, his blue eyes shinning bright like you’ve never seen before and you sigh, a little smile making its appearance in the corner of your mouth. Even in this position, you’re still shorter than him, but it doesn’t bother any of you, as he lowers his head to give you a gentle kiss, moving his lips on yours with tenderness and love.

You close your eyes, as he does the same, licking your lower lip and you open your mouth, receiving his tongue with satisfaction. He doesn’t stop moving as you kiss, and now you’re in a better rhythm, actually dancing along with the song. You raise your right hand, that was still on his chest, meeting the other, and you caress his nape with the tip of your fingers, noticing him shift under your touch, feeling goosebumps, which makes you smile between the kiss, thinking about the effects you cause on him.

When you need to breath, Ed presses his forehead onto yours, his eyes still closed, a playful smile on his lips and you giggle with the sight of him, seemingly as happy as you are “Thank you, Teddy!” you say, low. He opens his blue eyes and nods, squeezing your waist a bit, and you know he understood what you meant. You’re thankful he’s helping to bring your confidence back, or even build it, carefully, with no pressure.

“Whenever you need, babe!” he sweetly kisses the top of your head “I’ll always be here for you”. And you are sure if it now.

You smile, knowing his words are true, letting all your fears disappear as you dance around the center of the room, as the song starts reaching its highest point with Ed beating the guitar and asking for the crowd to sing along. The lyric makes its way from your brain to your own heart. It’s perfectly matching your situation. He’s so much more than your fiancé, he’s your half, your anchor¹. He’s literally the light who’s always showing you the way back home, back to yourself.

You keep dancing until the last second, looking into each other’s eyes, feeling the song deepen in your hearts, and you know you’ll be his as forever as he’ll be yours!

¹This anchor thing is something I got from Teen Wolf {the TV show}, I hope you all had understood what I meant by that :o) (Though in the series, we learn that we must be our own anchor, in this situation, Ed being her anchor doesn’t mean the reader is not capable of taking care of herself, he’s there to support her like he’s stressed all the time! I’d have written “half anchor” there, but that wasn’t the moment, the reader was enjoying her dance and finally believing she was enough for our Ed and I didn’t want that scene to be too much heavy/serious. It’s just a couple enjoying each other after so long apart; as the reader “discovering herself as a beautiful and worthy person) Be your own anchor, people!

Sorry for the long note again!!

A/N: Hey people, good morning(?) (it’s almost 1 and a half am in Brazil)! Let me know what you are your thoughts about this first chapter. Should I write the second one? I’m so anxious to know your opinion 'cause it was really special, for me, to write about our Teddy! And I’m a little unsure if I’ve done it correctly. I wanted to "make” him kind of mixed by two things: °the way I think/imagine he’s most of the time; °and the way he shows himself to everyone (by what I have seen during interviews and gigs, by his lyrics and etc)

Also, the story/series name is Guiding Light just because I was watching Ed’s gig in the Roundhouse (2014) and I reminded myself how much I f* love this song, then I had the idea of the dancing scene, and I needed a song played/or not by Ed, that didn’t have a direct connection with his ex-girlfriends, but at the same time, could be a parallel to Perfect (which is part of the chapter name anyways :).

So… this song just perfectly matched what I was looking for, and I hope it makes sense to you! (I’m terrible in making up titles and all). I think I explained a lot of what’s on my mind in these notes, I’m very sorry if it was boring for you. If you think this is unnecessary, please, let me know, and I will reduce them! But I think it is important to stress some things when we write.

I also need to know if you think I should keep the Some Considerations section in every chapter or only in the first one! About the next chapter: It took about 5 days for me to write the story completely, + 1 (today) to add some details and other stuff, so, it’s probably the time I’ll take to write the next one, as well. But, I won’t be home from this Friday to Sunday, so, if I count six days from the days I’ll be available to write, I’ll probably post the next chapter on the next week, Friday, September 6th! (it can be before or after it).

Leave me your questions, comments and anything else you want in my inbox! Follow me, as well, if you want! My twitter account, if you want to follow me there too: @maripattinson_ (it’s in Portuguese, but everything related to imagines is posted in English!).

Sorry for any misspelled words, I’ve done my best to correct everything I could find during my readings!

Thank you for your support!

X

Welcome to the Wardens, Bec! Your application for THE ELEMENTALIST has been accepted with a Charlize Theron FC.

This skeleton bio was one of my favourites and you absolutely did this character justice! I adore how you made her Dawnish and really researched into the cultural norms of Dawnish society because they are all such an intelligent but crafty people. It really fits with Lisselá’s personality which is just perfect for an arrogant and power-hungry Mage! It’ll be so interesting to see how Lisselá uses her experience with the Game of Houses to manipulate any situation in her favour and how she excels in her adventures with the Wardens. The Star Tower will undoubtedly be super eager to claim their prodigy back but you really made her reason about leaving believable with those tensions with her tutors! We’re all really excited to see how this powerful Mage adapts to the Wardens’ challenges!

The application can be found under the cut. You have 48 hours to create a roleplay account (cannot be a sideblog) for your character and we will be updating our opening date soon!

O O C - I N F O

Name: Bec

Age: 24

Timezone: BST (currently GMT but switching over tomorrow!)

Activity Level: Every 2-3 days, higher activity on weekends as I work during the week

Extra: I’d appreciate tags for rape/non-con, domestic violence, self-harm and suicide please. I also have art and graphics experience so if mods ever want any additional help with that I’d be pleased to offer assistance!  

S K E L E T O N - I N F O

T H E - B A S I C S

Skeleton Title: THE ELEMENTALIST

Name: Lisselá De Sauveterre

Gender: Female

Age:  147

Class: Mage

Faceclaim: Charlize Theron

C H A R A C T E R - D E T A I L S

Nationality: Dawnish

Appearance: Lisselá takes great care over her appearance, rising early in the morning to adhere to a strict beauty regime. Her body language conveys a lady of status and grace, taught to never slouch and carefully conceal any tells. Her immaculate appearance and control over her outward emotion gives her an air of aloofness, her piercing grey-green eyes cold and calculating. Her long white-blonde hair is always perfectly styled in the latest fashion trends of the capital and matched with sparkling jewels and accessories paired with an ostentatious wardrobe. She flaunts her family name and associated wealth and prominence, her family crest displayed at every opportunity in her excessive range of jewellery. A lifetime in the Star Tower and born into privilege, she boasts clear skin and silken hair. She has few visible scars to speak of but the most severe she keeps carefully hidden by clothing at all times, unwilling to share the truth of her training.

Considered middle age for a mage, she benefits from their extended longevity and at first glances appears as a woman in her early 40s. There are hints of her true age, lines beginning to appear around her eyes and lips and signs of her hair beginning to thin and whiten further, but no more than to be expected for a mage of her age. However, she dislikes the physical reminder of mortality and obsessively searches for ways to minimise her aging and disguise her ‘weakness’.

Personality:

Ambitious from a young age, she has a shrewd aptitude for politics and the Game of Houses and is well versed in asserting the authority her connections afforded her. Growing up in the Star Tower, she hungered for greater power and devoted herself to honing her magical craft, aspiring to be the most powerful mage in Eldris. Fanatical in her desire, she has little patience for the strict and lengthy training and protocols of the Tower. She yearns to leave the oppressive regime and learn the secrets to unlocking the mysteries of the world with little care for the cost.

When the opportunity arose to leave she snapped it up immediately in the haste to obtain her heart’s desire and the consequences of this decision have begun to make themselves known. The family she has so proudly affiliated with have begun to distance themselves, viewing her position with the wardens as disgrace to their name. Bitter and resentful, she refuses to acknowledge their disapproval and stubbornly insists they will change their minds once she has achieved magical prowess to shake the very foundations of their world.

Whilst not unfriendly to her fellow wardens, she exudes arrogance and her guarded nature does not warm many to her side. She has learnt however that to attain her goal she needs allies and with her family severing their ties she has realised that she must make efforts to build new alliances.

C H A R A C T E R - B A C K G R O U N D

History:

Born to a wealthy family with ties to Clan Morvel in the city of Morn, she spent her childhood enjoying the luxuries and extravagance of a noble family. Educated extensively in etiquette, history and law she boasts an intelligence and cunning expected of a Dawnish lady. She dreamed of rising further and dedicated herself to expanding her scholarly knowledge and she had no qualms about where that knowledge came from, intrigued and seduced by the secrets of the forbidden arts. It came as no great surprise when she awakened her magical powers as a young teen and the move to the Star Tower seemed like her opportunity to unearth her true capabilities and learn more of Eldris’ mysteries.

She was named a prodigy from a young age; a label she wore proudly, making no secret of her aptitude for knowledge and magic. She soon grew tired of the tedious obsession with study and research with little to no practical application and the tension grew between her and her tutors. She had little patience to sit and learn the theory of magic, documented in dusty tomes and recited by every mage of the tower but her tutors insisted it was necessary to truly master the art. The overwhelming raw power burned through her however, begging to be unleashed and harnessed. This fuelled her temper and impatience and created further divide between not only her teachers but also her fellow mages. Her pride and disregard for the rules of the Tower afforded her few friends, seeing those around her as tools to get what she wanted and blaming their dislike on jealousy.

One of the more powerful elder mages who had tutored her from her first days in the Tower was her only confidant. She viewed her as a motherly figure and afforded her great respect for her knowledge and wisdom. Her grasp on the Game of Houses and her kind but firm nature appealed to Lisselá and she shared her deepest and innermost thoughts with her, trusting her council and seeking her approval. With a low tolerance for bullshit, the elder mage had always been most successful at effectively managing Lisselá and encouraging her to behave whilst satisfying her need for practical tutorage by secretly meeting to tutor her.

Reason for joining the Wardens:

As her mentor is reaching her twilight years, Lisselá knows the elder mage will not survive much longer. With growing friction between herself and the other mages, and her mentor unable to defend her (or tutor her) as she had in the past, she knows it is time to move on from the Tower before they find a way to permanently leash her desire for power. When news reaches the Tower that the Wardens have been formed in search of the Netherworld’s secrets, Lisselá knows this is her opportunity to leave the stifling oppression of the Tower and discover the true depth of her power and answer the burning questions that have dominated her existence.

R O L E P L A Y - S A M P L E

Wrapped in the thickest and warmed furs her coin purse could provide at short notice, she is suitably dressed for the unforgiving weather assaulting the mountain pass but still the bitter wind bites against her skin, seeming to seep into her very bones. With little sensation remaining in her extremities and her nose beginning to trickle with unsightly snot, any patience she possessed is long gone. As she is considering turning back and finding the merchant who sold her the furs to wring his neck and destroy any hope of a continuing career, she is startled by dark figures leaping from the mountainside. She feels her weary horse shifting its weight in anticipation before rearing in protest as the figures surround them. She utters a firm order for her horse to hush, gently patting its neck in a soothing motion, without breaking the glare she has fixed upon the figure who had landed directly in front. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and her an icy chill rang through her body, the skin on her arms turning to goose flesh.

“How noble you are sir,” She shouts over the howling winds, sarcasm dripping from every word and the lie coming to her easily, “To prey upon a woman travelling home to her father.”

The man seemed unperturbed by her comment, sneering as he wields a dagger in his hand.

“Give us your gold, wench!” He says with a snarl, desperation creeping into his tone, “Or we’ll cut you down and take it from you!”

Unable to hold back a nervous laugh, she attempts to steel her nerves and schools her features into an unimpressed sneer. She has no wish to fight these bandits, though she has no doubt she could take them, but she is already delayed on her journey and does not wish to further interrupt her schedule for a few foolhardy low lives.

“Please, do you even know how to use that?” She asks, arching her brow. “You do not wish to start a fight you cannot win. Certainly not against a daughter of Morvel.”

Again, the lie slips from her tongue. Not a complete lie, she is a Morvel in blood (albeit distantly). She knows this is a risky untruth, they may be so desperate they decide to take her for ransom but she trusts that they do not wish to take the risk of angering the most powerful family of the region. It is clear not many have travelled this road and so their supply of merchants and traders is woefully low but she feels little sympathy for anyone choosing a life of petty crime.

“Yeah right!” Another of the bandits says in protest, “As if they’d let someone that high o’ rank jus’ wander the pass unprotected!”

Well at least one of them had some form of intelligence, she mused. Letting out an audible sigh and making a show of rolling her eyes, she glanced towards the hooded figure that had spoken.

“Indeed. I am not alone.” She says evenly, looking down her nose at the man with greater threat in her voice.

A few of them started to argue, furiously whispering and nudging each other. Had the wind not been so noisy, she might’ve caught more of what they said but it was obvious they were faltering, unsure how to proceed. It was obvious they didn’t know the pass well and could not be certain she did not have hidden guards poised to attack.

Eventually they looked to the man who had spoken first and she was certain in her judgment that he was the leader of the thugs.

“If you wish to see the morrow I suggest you let me pass,” She says, “I will see that this… misunderstanding is not taken any further.”

He seemed to hesitate again, shifting his weight from foot to foot, before glancing at the faces of his misfit group and slumping his shoulders in defeat. Lisselá feels the tension ease in her body as he comes to his decision, relieved they have accepted her terms and trying not to let the satisfaction show in too much in her face. Fools, she thinks.

“Yeah, yeah… alright,” He says, finally conceding and stepping out of her path.

He lowers his weapon and uses his free hand to signal his group to follow suit, the weary men clambering back up the frozen rocks no doubt to await the next unsuspecting traveller. She imagines they will figure it out soon enough but she plans to be long gone by then and with the weather only worsening she is sure they are not so stupid as to risk pursuing her. Not wishing to wait around to find out, she clicks her tongue and gently kicks her horse forward, continuing on the icy path toward Miwor Town.

Marty calls Lee a creep.

8 pages that I dumped out today. Bad quality, ghhhh this is basically all dialogue but whatever.

I hate this because Kassidy is being affected by Lee’s bullshit “you have to like me’ psychic powers and it makes her think stuff she normally wouldn’t. Also Kassidy cracks me up because she’s such a passive observer while everyone else is screaming at each other. She’s just...a dumb person and I love her.

Lee is so hostile, even towards Casey, and nobody realizes it :(

##

“Ayda,” the little blue Marty hologram which shone above Ayda’s state-of-the-art comm looked around shiftily. His squeaky pubescent voice was suddenly more serious. It made Kassidy look at him, when she usually paid him no attention. “Who is that guy over there?” He had noticed Lee for the first time, apparently.

“Kip’s friend,” said Ayda. She scrolled idly on her tablet. It looked like she was shopping for a pair of new shoes on a website where everything was more expensive than all of Kassidy’s shoes put together. “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Ew,” said Kassidy, who had no intention of engaging in ‘girl talk’ with Ayda. Talking with Ayda already made her feel like she was on the verge of having a nasty joke played on her. Talking with Ayda about boys she thought were cute-- a subject that Kassidy had no authority on-- made her even more awkward and nervous.

“Uhhhh,” said Marty. “Ayda...”

“I mean, I don’t like guys who are skinny like that,” Ayda continued, still scrolling mindlessly through pages of shoes. “Or like, intellectuals, you know? Too intense.”

Kassidy began to brainstorm ways to escape. This was not a conversation she knew how to participate in. Even if she got up off the couch and away from Ayda’s presence, she had nobody else to hang out with. Esther and Rosaline were being gross and couple-y. She did not want to go talk to a group of Freshmen. Kip, Lee, and Casey were all smarter than she was and arguing about things she did not understand. That left Ayda and Marty and being stuck gossipping with them on the couch.

Marty’s expression grew more suspicious as he watched Lee. Kip’s cool friend was leaning back against the kitchen counter, propped on his elbows. He was smiling at Casey as she tried to defend her family’s wealth to him. Kip suddenly chimed in, saying something that made Lee laugh and briefly touch his chest. Marty frowned.

“How old is that guy?” he demanded. “He has a beard.”

“Way to be beard-phobic, Marty,” said Ayda. She selected a pair of green high heels which cost 250 credits, buying them with a few clicks. That was nauseating.

Before the conversation could disintegrate into Ayda and Marty trying to out-insult each other as it always did, Kip bounded over to the couch. It had been a long time since Kassidy had seen him look so happy. His smile was huge. He had so much excess energy that he could not stop moving. “Do you guys want pizza?” he asked. He squeezed his body down onto the couch, between Ayda and his sister, and put his arms around both of them. “Ma messaged me, she’s not coming home until past midnight. I’m starving. Hi, Marty.”

Ayda giggled like she always did when Kip touched her. Kassidy rolled her eyes. “Who’s paying? There’s 11 of us.” she asked her brother.

“Casey offered to.”

“Ok. Only if we get stuffed crust though.” She was very hungry. Their mother had forgotten to do the shopping again since she was working 16 hour days now, so there was nothing in the fridge except for beer and an old jar of salsa. Kassidy had been surviving out of the vending machines located outside of the apartment building. “And I want breadsticks too, if Casey is buying.”

“What do you want, A?” For all his faults, Kip was always so thoughtful when it came to the needs of others. He always asked. He always checked in.

“I just want a salad,” she said, looking at him with those big brown eyes that seemed capable of hypnotizing almost anyone into believing she was not annoying and vapid. “I’m on a diet.”

“Ha!” snorted Marty. “Nice try. Nobody is ever going to believe that.”

Ayda turned off her communicator and banished Marty from the social gathering. It was that easy, with long-distance friends. By blocking someone or ignoring their messages, a relationship could be ended swiftly. People stopped responding to each other, or they stopped going online. Those connections are by their nature ephemeral.

Of course, if Ayda tried to block Marty from her life, he would inevitably find a way to hack her devices and get back into her good graces. He was like a lonely, hungry dog; like the rest of them it was clear he had never nurtured any other friendships.

“Yikes,” said Kip, grimacing, and Ayda did not even have the decency to look embarrassed. “You two are brutal to one another.”

“Maybe,” said Ayda.

Kip flicked his sister on the arm. “Go ask Esther and Rosaline what they want.”

The possibility that she would open the door and walk in to see Esther with her hands up Rosaline’s shirt was very high. Kassidy did not need that image in her brain. She liked Rosaline a lot but it weirded her out that she was dating her best friend. She’d always figured that Esther and her would be single forever.

“You do it,” she said.

“OK!” Kip, who did not have room in his brain for thoughts about accidentally walking in on anyone getting frisky, bounced back up to his feet. He glanced back at the kitchen, where Lee and Casey were still talking passionately, as if making sure they were still there. He smiled goofily, then went to Kassidy’s room to find Esther. Even as he walked, he was tapping his fingers against each other, trying to get his excess energy out.

“Freak.” Ayda went back to scrolling on her tablet.

Suddenly Kassidy did not want to be around her anymore. Ayda was the meanest person she had ever met-- didn’t she realize that was the reason everyone at school hated her guts? At least Kassidy had the excuse of being ugly and awkward. She slid from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

She sat down at the table. Lee was sitting as well, but Casey still stood. Lee smiled at Kassidy. He had a friendly face that could border on smug. He showed his teeth when he smiled, and some of them were crooked; it was nice to be around a person who was not created perfect. “Good to see you joined us,” said Lee. “We’re getting pizza.”

Casey got close enough to Kassidy that she could smell her perfume: light and honey like. Even though she was dressed down in jeans and a simple t-shirt, she looked stylish enough to make Kassidy feel scruffy. “Yeah,” Casey said, her tone mocking. “I’m re-distributing my father’s wealth amongst the plebs.”

“First step’s always the hardest,” Lee joked.

“Oooh, yeah, you people just want us all to share the same toothbrushes and stand in line for bread instead of being able to order pizza.” Without asking permission, Casey started to braid Kassidy’s hair. Kassidy gulped and did not dare move, even though the other girl was very gentle. Whenever Casey touched her, Kassidy felt like she was going to throw up and her heart started to beat very fast. It wasn’t fear; she did not know what it was. “You need to stop straightening your hair, the ends are all damaged.”

There had been nobody to teach Kassidy about how to take care of her hair. Her mother’s was silky straight and black, so was Kip’s. She was stuck being frizzy and blonde and burning herself with the straightening iron. She only nodded, staring at a crumb on the table because she did not want to look at Casey.

Casey took a hairband off her wrist and tied the end of the braid. She moved her face close to Kassidy’s so she could survey her work from the front. “Pretty,” she said.

Kassidy wondered if she was going to pass out. Was she being mocked? She knew for a fact that she was not and would never be ‘pretty’. It was mean to call her that. It was doubly mean for a stunningly beautiful girl like Casey to call her that.

Seconds later, Kip slammed the door to Kassidy’s room and came back over to the kitchen. His face was pink. “Esther is such a psycho.”

“Awww, was she mean to you because you interrupted girlfriend time?” Casey leaned over to rest her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands. Like Kip, she had boundless energy, but it did not manifest itself in the same frenetic way it did in him. It existed in her as a promise: at any moment she could spring. She was always so loose and relaxed but her muscles coiled beneath her dark skin. Every few minutes her gaze would shift over to her sister, always making sure that she was OK.

She was not like the other Artificials. Not that Kassidy was prejudiced, but you could always tell that there was something off about them, that there was something not quite right. All of the ones she had interacted with were deeply awkward and uncomfortable people. Sure they were engineered to be ‘perfect’, but on the inside there was always something that knew this person was not really supposed to exist. But Casey was different. She was so natural and confident in herself.

Instead of sitting on a chair, Kip boosted himself up onto the table and sat there cross-legged. His bulging eyes were a bit shiny, which indicated that his feelings were hurt from Esther saying something hurtful. Like Kassidy, he was not entirely happy with how Esther was paying more attention to her new girlfriend than to him, her lifelong friend. He itched his nose.

Casey used her comm to order the pizzas. She put it back in her pocket. “There,” she said. “Are you people happy now? I’m feeding you. I’m practically your mother now.”

“How would you know what a mother is?” Lee asked her, which was kind of a weird joke. He was cool and it was easy to forget that he was so much older than the rest of them. He had to be 22 or 23, since he was a Junior and Kip said that he started college late because he’d been stuck in the Youth Detention Center for a few years. Being incarcerated as a teen didn’t make someone bad-- after all, Kip had been held back a year because of violence as well-- but it was a little weird how he skirted around the reason he’d been put there.

The most important part of having a friend who was older, of course, was getting them to buy alcohol. Lee had promised to buy Kip and his friends some liquor one weekend in the near future, when Dana Nguyen was at work all night. He was really paranoid about getting caught, which was understandable.

Kip had a little crush on him. It was OK though, since he was 18 now and didn’t have a chance with a college guy. It was strange, Kassidy would have never approved of something like that until she met Lee. But just being around him made her understand things differently.

It was impossible not to like him.

They started arguing about politics again and Kassidy could not keep up. Something about how the Mayor was incompetent. She kind of liked Mayor Malena, but only because he was the only government person who was polite to her mother. He had a handsome face and his kid had died that year, but that was the extent of her knowledge. Politics were so boring. What was the point about arguing about something that was never going to change?

No, she had more important things to worry about, like surviving high school and not throwing up when she talked to Casey.

“The people have to have total control over the political system,” Kip was saying, wildly. Everything he did these days was wild.

“Yeah, the people,” said Casey. “The people who know what they’re doing, not the dirty, unwashed masses. There’s a good reason people like my Dad, Ms. Voorst, and Mr. Prospas have the power that they have. There’s an even better reason that people like you have no power at all.”

“Oh you are so close to making the connection…” said Lee, again with that weird little edge. The way that he watched Casey was strange but Kassidy could not put her finger on it.

“That reason is called ‘exploitation’, Cassiopeia!”

“My Dad isn’t exploiting anyone, Christopher.”

“Can you guys, like, stop yelling?” said Ayda from her nest on the couch. When she looked over at them, Kassidy felt the dark shadow return. “I’m trying to watch a video…”

Lee shrugged, laughed, and rubbed his forefinger and thumb on the areas that his mustache met his beard. When he laughed, Kassidy wanted to join in, even though she didn’t get what was funny.

Sometimes she wished she was a little smarter, just so that she could understand what people were talking about. Or if she was stupid and mean, like Ayda, then she wouldn’t care when she didn’t understand something.

The door to Kip’s bedroom opened and the twins came out, followed by Romeo Prospas. Speaking of awkward Artificials... Eddie and Evangeline were even more annoying now that they had entered high school. They kept trying to be individuals but ended up copying each other harder. Rome Prospas slunk behind them, perpetually nervous looking. He didn’t move normally; most 14 year old boys’ gaits are out of control but he slid along like he was wearing heelies. On his wrist was an even fancier comm than Ayda’s, and rising out of it was a little blue Marty-hologram.

Marty, clearly pleased with himself, looked at Ayda smugly as Rome passed her. Ayda gave him a dirty look that would have incapacitated him if he had been there in person. She hadn’t counted on someone as socially clueless as him having made another friend he could go to when she banished him.

“Why were you shouting?” demanded Evangeline, whose qualities of being high-strung and aggressive made her a natural spokesperson. She’d recently gotten bangs, which she believed made her look more grown up. They did not. “We’re doing homework.”

“I was shouting to specifically stop you from doing your homework,” said Kip. He got off the table so that he could pace around. He looked at the hologram, which was so lifelike that even Marty’s eyelashes were visible. “Hi Marty, again.”

Marty interested him. They’d only known each other for a couple of months, and already Kip would message Marty about stuff that didn’t have any connection to Ayda. He treated him like his own person instead of like a tag-along friend who wasn’t truly real. The idea that there was a whole wide world outside of Eden made Kip excited.

It was scary to think about. There could be people all over the world, not just in the Colonies. What were those people like? If they weren’t dangerous then why was Eden so sequestered?

“We ordered pizza, by the way.” Kip put his hand through Marty’s holographic head a couple of times. Marty glared at him.

“Thank you,” said Rome Prospas, which stopped everyone cold. Nobody said ‘thank you’ in this apartment without being sarcastic about it. Rome was a very polite boy, almost excessively so. He was unlike his violent older brother Ben in every way. Normally Kassidy wouldn’t want him in her home-- but a little while ago, she would not have wanted Casey and Ayda there either.

It all came back to connecting. It all came back to how only a little while ago, none of them had any friends.

“What kind of homework are you working on?” asked Lee. He got up from the table and poured himself a glass of water. He had only been to the apartment a couple times and he was already very comfortable there.

Well, comfortable as long as he knew that their mother wasn’t returning home any time soon.

“Grammar,” said Eddie, who was tired as usual and struggling to keep his eyes open. He rested his chin on his sister’s shoulder and she shoved him. “Ow…”

“I could help you. I’m majoring in journalism, I write for the student association paper.”

“Yeah, Lee’s a great writer,” Kip chimed in. Casey pointed at him from behind Lee’s back and mimed giving a blowjob. He turned red and gave her the finger.

Lee finished his glass of water. He took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on. They were not fashionable glasses, they made him look intellectual and slightly dorky. “Now I can read. I guess you three don’t know anything about having bad vision, huh? What about you, buddy? Are those yellow eyes just for show?”

Rome did not say anything. As well as being polite, he was quiet. He was the kind of kid who buttoned his shirts all the way up to the top. When Lee talked to him, again with that weird edge to his voice, he seemed to shrink. He kept his right wrist up at chest height so that Marty’s hologram was slightly in front of him.

“I’m just joking!” Lee adjusted his goofy glasses and then reached out to mess up Rome’s very neat hair.

The hologram-Marty frowned when he saw this. Kip was still messing with him and putting his hand through his pixels. It was like Kip could not help but be annoying. “Hey,” said Marty, loudly, directly towards Lee. “Quit being a creep.”

Everybody froze. Even Ayda looked up from her tablet, zeroing in on drama like she always did.

Behind the lenses of his glasses, Lee’s eyes got very wide. He kept smiling but it was not a friendly smile, it was shocked and awkward. He put up his hands, palms facing the hologram, in a universally placating signal. All of his smugness drained from his posture and Kassidy’s perception of him shifted. The way he held his shoulders was less cool and relaxed and more defensive. “What?” he asked.  “Hi there. I didn’t notice you.”

“Great,” said Marty, with acerbic hostility. His shoulders were visible on the hologram too, and they were pulled up toward his ears. “Stop touching people, you creep. How old are you?”

“I’m 23,” said Lee.

Marty looked like he smelled something bad. His upper lip curled up. Suddenly, Kassidy grew irritated with him and did not know why. She had no investment in arguments that were not about her. But Marty’s soft childish face, looking as disgusted as it did, made her want to say something mean to him.

“What’s wrong, Marty?” Kip asked. For someone who liked to engage in conflicts so much, he was quick to intervene and try to mollify things when his friends were involved.

“That guy shouldn’t be hanging out with you. It’s weird.”

“Be nice, Marty!” said Ayda from the couch, shaking her head and rolling her beautiful cow-eyes.

Lee got a little closer to Marty. He bent down slightly. His eyebrows were raised in concern but his mouth kept smiling his crooked smile. He was not a threatening man and could not be threatening even if he wanted to. “How am I weird?” He said very softly and calmly, the way someone talks to a kid who is having a tantrum.

“Back away from me,” Marty demanded. “And stop touching people. You made Rome uncomfortable.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” Lee asked Rome.

Rome looked nervously back and forth. “No,” he said. Lee smiled at Marty.

For his part, Marty gritted his teeth and dug in, even though everyone’s attention was on him. “You keep touching Kip in weird ways too, which is creepy. Why are you hanging out alone with a bunch of teenagers on a Wednesday afternoon when you’re an adult man who’s like 10 years older than some of them? That isn’t allowed to happen where I’m from. What do you want? Because I can’t come up with a single normal reason for you to be here.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Kip, with embarrassment and anger flashing across him, seized Rome’s wrist and turned off the communicator. Marty disappeared for the second time. It was unlikely that he would return for a day or so. That was that. It was so easy to get rid of him. Nobody said anything.

There was a lot to unpack in all of that, but Kassidy did not have the capacity to do so. She rarely even had the capacity to join conversations. It was all probably very disturbing, judging from the look on her brother’s face, but she did not think about that. So she sat at the table and thought about the pizza that she was going to eat while she idly played with the end of her braid.

She did not have to worry about that kind of stuff. Not yet.

Monika Radulovic, Model

Happy 2019 to you, our lovely Beauticate readers! To kick off our WHO profiles this year, we’re so pleased to bring you former Miss Universe, Monika Radulovic. Armed with a degree in psychology, a complete obsession with health and wellness and, it must be said, the kind of killerwatt smile and enviable body you might expect from a girl used to wearing tiaras for a living, Monika has parlayed her pageant days into working with brands she loves (including HIVITA Health Care and IWC Watches). We caught up with her to find out her favourite makeup tips, skincare essentials, designer weaknesses – yep, she even admits Louboutins are as painful as they are gorgeous - and every little detail on how she gets that real life glow from the inside out.

“Growing up, I always had good skin (I think thanks to my mum’s genes), so I never really had to worry about acne or other skin conditions.

Because of that, I didn’t pay attention to skincare products - I actually remember a makeup artist lecturing me about the importance of using a moisturiser when I was 19 and not really using much of anything. In my early 20s I delved into the science behind beauty products and their potential for having long-term benefits on the skin. Since then, taking care of my skin has been extremely important to me, and I’ve found that sticking to great quality products and being religious with my regime has made all the difference to the condition of my skin.

I cleanse, tone and moisturise daily and make sure I take off my makeup before bed. This is such a simple thing but makes such a difference to your skin.

I prep my skin with the La Prairie White Caviar Illuminating Pearl Infusion, and I absolutely love the HIVITA Luminous White Skin Renewal Cream and use it to moisturise my skin day and night. It has this velvety texture and is super absorbent, and my skin has really reaped the benefits since I started using it. La Prairie’s Cellular 3-Minute Peel is another game-changing product in my routine; I use it as a weekly booster to help renew and refresh my skin – it’s like giving myself a facial at home, and I notice results right away. I also use my Nu Skin LumiSpa cleansing device every morning and night to give my skin a really deep clean.

My favourite bases for a night out are the Dior Backstage Face and Body Foundation and the La Prarie Caviar Concealer Foundation - they feel beautiful on my skin, blend in so well and stay flawless all night.

I love the Charlotte Tilbury Filmstar Bronze & Glow contour palette to sculpt my cheekbones, gently bronze my face and to highlight - it’s the perfect all-in-one palette. Finally, I believe you can’t beat a bold red lip when you want to feel dressed up and confident on a night out, and my faves include Nars Velvet Lip Pencil in Dragon Girl and Giorgio Armani Lip Maestro in 404.

I have a couple of simple makeup tips that I swear by.

Number one? Curl your eyelashes before using mascara. And number two - brush your brows with a tiny amount of hairspray to keep them in place all day.

I have a relatively simple hair care routine.

I wash my hair using OGX Shea Soft and Smooth Shampoo and Conditioner; I discovered OGX a few months ago and I love how soft it makes my hair feel. After I’ve washed my hair I distribute Moroccanoil treatment oil from the middle to the ends of my hair - I’ve been using it since high school and I’m such a fan of how smooth and shiny my hair is when I use it, plus it smells incredible! I blow dry my hair with the Dyson Supersonic Hair Dryer (it’s the absolute best dryer I’ve ever used; it dries faster while being more gentle), and my favourite styling product has to be Oribe Dry Texturizing Spray. It gives me the perfect sexy, tousled bed hair.

I really fell into working in the entertainment and fashion industry. I never could have imagined in my teenage years that I’d be here one day!

I went to uni straight after high school to study Psychology, and it wasn’t until I graduated from my Honours degree that I started to take my modelling career seriously. I ended up working as a full time model for a few years, before I decided to enter the Miss Universe Australia pageant. I won that competition in 2015, went on to represent our amazing country in the international Miss Universe pageant, and that was the start of this next chapter of my career.

I’d like to think of my style as classic and simple, with a touch of glam. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, whether it be heading to the gym or off to a red carpet event, I always aim to look polished and put together.

My favourite pieces from Aussie brands include Alice McCall, Bec & Bridge, By Johnny and Rebecca Vallance. Another fave piece in my wardrobe is my bespoke “RAD” demin jacket. It was embroidered by Kai from All My Relations, and I instantly feel my cool-o-meter rise when I put it on.

I’m a big believer in buying investment accessories like bags and shoes, simply because you’ll wear them again and again for years. Chanel is my weakness - I think the brand is just utterly chic, and I’ve invested in a few of their gorgeous bags and shoes over the years. My black Chanel Boy bag is one of my most treasured pieces, as is my Christian Louboutin shoe collection (if only they were as comfortable as they are beautiful!). I’m always wearing my Gregory Jewellers diamond engagement ring and wedding band and complete every outfit with my IWC Portugieser Automatic Chronograph watch. 

I believe that a truly healthy body is one that feels good inside and out. To me, this means eating healthy foods and working out regularly, which will benefit your physical health as well as your mental and emotional wellbeing.

I’m a serious believer in eating the right foods and for me, that means focusing on eating a huge range of vegetables, lots of healthy fats, grass fed protein and some nuts and seeds. Avoiding sugar and processed foods is something that I think greatly benefits your body, so I avoid eating these whenever I can. I know that may seem overwhelming, but you can make it a gradual process by slowly cutting down on the unhealthy stuff, and replacing it with natural foods that still taste great but nourish your body (for example, I love to snack on berries and activated nuts). I also really recommend supplementing your diet with vitamins, especially vitamins B and C to boost immunity. I always make sure I take my HIVITA Immunity and Women’s Multi before starting my day. Drinking plenty of water to stay hydrated is also very important (boring but true!), and I like to drink warm water with sea salt and lemon in the mornings to rehydrate, boost my metabolism and improve digestion.

Four times a week I head over to my local F45 studio and work out.

The 45 minutes of high intensity first thing in the morning leaves me feeling sweaty, energised and ready to start my day. I also train once a week with my personal trainer, Tony Akindoyin, at Virgin Active, to help with my form and make sure I’m doing the right thing. I also believe rest is really important so if I’m tired I give myself a break and just go for a nice long walk.

I like to maintain a healthy food regime as best I can, which for me means natural, unprocessed whole foods and avoiding sugar and artificial sweeteners.

I love packing my meals with good fats, minimal carbs and plenty of fresh veggies, so for breakfast I typically have two scrambled eggs cooked with coconut oil, sautéed spinach, avo and sea salt. Lunch is usually a huge bowl of roasted veggies with salmon or grilled chicken plus another avo, drizzled with olive oil and tahini and topped with some pine nuts. Then dinner I might have some bone broth with veggies and chicken thighs. As for dessert, my healthy chocolate brownies made with zucchini are my signature (I promise you can’t taste the zucchini whatsoever!) and I love nothing more than having a piece with an almond milk cappuccino.

I’m a huge health and wellness junkie and will try absolutely anything if it might benefit me.

This includes using my infrared sauna for half an hour most days to assist with detoxification, and going weekly to Koa Recovery for cryotherapy, which helps with muscle recovery and to decrease inflammation. I also use my Joovv red light therapy system for 10 minutes every day – I stand in front of the device which hangs from my bathroom door and emits red light (it’s sort of like a whole-body Omnilux facial). It’s amazing and has so many health and beauty benefits, including boosting the skin’s collagen and repairing sun damage, fading scars and wrinkles, speeding up wound healing, enhancing circulation and reducing pain and inflammation - I’m addicted! 

My mum is definitely my biggest beauty influence. She inspires me with her confidence and total security in being her true self.

The fact that she doesn’t need makeup or any anti-aging treatments to feel confident is so incredible given the society we live in today. She doesn’t even dye her hair and celebrates the new greys coming through! What mum has taught me above all is that true beauty comes from within and is ultimately defined by the kind of person you are.

I see ageing as a state of mind, and don’t think chronological age is that important.

How many times have you seen someone who is sixty years old that’s just as vibrant, if not more so, than someone in their twenties? I think our true age is more determined by how we feel, and I plan to feel as vital, energetic and youthful as I can for the rest of my life!”

Story by Zoe Briggs. Select images from Monika Radulovic’s Instagram.