micro bar

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My everyday carry gets taken all places I go during the day. I like sturdy and proven items and I have a slight love for (vintage) design.

Sunday Candy
Anna Kendrick
Sunday Candy

scrawniest-calamity decided to wake me up with this idea this morning. She’s evil. 

Prior to them sealing this whole relationship thing with a kiss and a very nice exploration of the Copenhagen hotel room, Beca and Chloe hardly spent a night apart. Even in her first senior year, locked out by sarcastic eye-rolls and ear spikes, Chloe weaseled her way into Beca’s twin bed with guises of crazy-Bellas-caption-roommate complaints, sneaking sleepovers into their nightly routine beneath textbooks and late night choreography sessions. Chloe allowed herself to become dependent on those nights, learning to despise Christmas breaks and the weeks-long separation it caused (which, really, was impressive because Chloe lived for Christmas…she practically shat Christmas spirit, as Beca once so kindly put it). 

And so, when Beca announced hesitantly between commercial breaks of the dance competition Chloe forced her to watch that she had to leave for a week to scout out new talent for the studio, Chloe patched a fake smile of acceptance on her face, intertwining her fingers with Beca and telling her in an easy breath to “go do what you need to do. I’ll be here waiting, you know.” But, she knew it was going to be more than a challenge to get by. 

A week without Beca, whistling mixes at ungodly hours of the morning and clinging with an iron grip when Chloe slipped away to go on a sunrise run before school, meant a week of absolute insomnia. Even the first day, before Beca even landed, Chloe snapped at a student who was trying to text in class. She wasn’t a woman who ever had issues with patience, or exhaustion, or irritation, but she also wasn’t a woman who ever had to handle sleeping alone, so she didn’t even question the mood shift. On top of it all, she was pretty sure she was coming down with something.  

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April 2nd, 2014, Last full day in this beautiful place :(

I had a blast last night with Isabel, her cousin Loryn, and Kelly. We went to a place called MicroBar that has a floor to ceiling chalkboard beer list. You can get a flight of 8 and sample all the draft beers, and they have a MASSIVE selection of bottled craft beers. Just insane, the entire wall behind the bar was full of the different bottles you could choose from. They were generally small one off beers from pretty cool European breweries. The majority of the bottles had absolutely fantastic labels. The wall looked like it was a miniature art gallery with all the works displayed on bottles. Actually, that’s exactly what it was. Beautifully crafted beer works of art with tiny graphic masterpieces to lure you in. God, I love beer. 

Neil & Caitlin, I’m pretty sure you would have died. I had a chat with the very friendly and knowledgeable bartender while I got some recommendations and mentioned F&M to him. 

Were I a millionaire, I would have had a VERY good time there. I had a blast just on my budget, even if it was a bit of a ‘treat yoself’ night. 

We split the flight of 8 (the glasses were quite large), and a pint each. I had the Ölvisholt Lava, as the bartender mentioned it was the #1 rated beer in Iceland and it was on my list of beers to try from Neil. Isabel saw my face when I drank it and said that it looked like I was being hugged from the inside out. It was just fantastic. 

After this beautiful moment in Iceland, we headed to a bar called Boston. All the bars here are just really relaxed but like, really posh and well decorated. It’s fantastic. 

Anyways, I had a great time! Tried lots of Icelandic craft beers and had good conversation. Win! 

Now I’m slowly trying to wake up and remember a time when my head did not feel like it was filled with very heavy fog… I’m starting to understand why that hangover breakfast at Priki∂ is so popular. 

Hopefully going to the Icelandic battle of the bands at Harpa tonight with Hillary, and then eating as many Pylsur as I can before I catch some sleep and fly out tomorrow afternoon.


I Blame You

Captain Swan AU

Summary: Writing an article on a musician. Easy. Doing it without Google and writers block caused by a gorgeous jogger. Not so much. Emma is down to the wire to turn her article in and has nothing written. Leading her to take drastic measures to cure the writers block. 

A/N: Thank you Becky for being able to decipher what my brain threw up on the page. You’re the best. 

The fic can also be found on FF.net & AO3 

For days Emma stared at the blank word doc on her laptop screen. Nothing she did could force the words to create themselves in her head and transplant onto the page, despite the fact that in three hours she needed to turn in an article about some unknown musician named Killian Jones.

Normally an article like this would have been finished in twenty minutes, but there was a small problem, Emma knew nothing about him. Regina, her boss, had given her few facts , a flash drive with some of his music and the strict instructions not to Google him. Regina wanted the article solely based on his music. Emma would have been perfectly fine writing the article as Regina asked but the fact that she was banned from using Google as a punishment by Regina, for being late to five of the seven scheduled meetings made everything harder. The joys of being a freelance writer. There was a very good excuse for it though, well in her mind it was a good excuse.

Emma enjoyed working at a coffee shop a few blocks from the office that had the best hot chocolate in the city and outside seating. Every afternoon at about 1:45 while sitting outside, this gorgeous guy would run past her dripping in sweat. He would then stop at the lamp post at the corner across the street, and either go into the store or keeping running. There was one time that he looked back at Emma and smiled.

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