#...a few of those visits were field trips actually

[madrigaljail]

Since these tags are basically "say EPCOT one more time" I will say I did go to Magic Kingdom....maybe three times?? not counting that time when I was four and my mother took me on Space Mountain and I spent the entire time weeping and screaming and wanting to go home to my cat. Also MGM Studios maybe twice and Animal Kingdom once because why go there when I had an annual pass to Busch Gardens for like $50 and could pop in to ride the log flume between classes at college.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: With no friends and the looming threat of losing custody of his son, Eddie's the lowest he's ever been. But you know what they say: “Rock bottom just means there’s nowhere to go except up."

Warnings: angst, visits from CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's

WC: 6k

Chapter 5/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

The phone rings as Eddie wrestles Harris into his jacket. He still hasn’t figured out how to break the news about his classroom change; at this rate, he’ll be dropping him off at school before he works up the nerve. Is there any good way to tell your kid that he no longer gets to spend his days with his favorite teacher?

“Keep that on,” Eddie instructs Harris, pointing to the navy blue sweatshirt. “I’ll zip it for you in a sec.” He jogs over to the phone, answering with an irritated, “Hello?”

“Ed?” Wayne’s voice drifts from the receiver. “It’s Wayne.”

Eddie nods before remembering that Wayne can’t see him. “Y-Yeah, hey,” he says, tone softening at his uncle’s familiarity. There’s a dull ache in his chest when he thinks of how he willingly shut him out over the last month. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Can’t complain.” Wayne clears his throat. “I’d love to see you and Harris. Whenever you get the chance.” Eddie can hear his concern, the unasked questions that dissolve on his tongue: Are you okay? Is Harris? Do I need to file that custody agreement?

He glances over at his son, who, despite Eddie’s promise, is unsuccessfully trying to thread the zipper with its teeth. He motions him over, cradling the phone to his ear and stretching the cord while he kneels to fasten the jacket. “We were actually about to head to the park if you wanted to meet us there,” he says. “This kid’s got way too much energy to keep him cooped up in the apartment. We’ll both lose our minds.”

Wayne lets out a kind chuckle. “Sounds like a Munson.” Eddie can hear the tinny jangle of his keys. “The park over on Porter Drive?”

“Yup.”

“Dad, let’s go!” Harris whines, twisting the doorknob back and forth to emphasize his impatience.

“We’ll be there in ten,” Eddie tells Wayne, catching a glimpse of the neon orange cast peeking out from under Harris’s jacket. It’s now adorned with his classmates’ names. Your signature seems to beckon Eddie, taunt him, even, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because it’s the only one that doesn’t resemble chicken scratch. “Oh, Harris broke his wrist, but he’s fine. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Hoo boy,” Wayne breathes. “Definitely a Munson.”

Harris spends the short drive to the park bouncing in his carseat. “Is Grampa Wayne gonna play with me?” he asks, rocking back and forth excitedly.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, keeping his eyes trained on the road. He nervously thrums his fingers along his jean-clad thighs. What if Wayne still didn’t think he was a responsible parent? What if he took one look at Harris’s injury and raced home to call his lawyer? “But I gotta talk with him first, okay? You can play by yourself for a little while.”

Harris hums his agreement, eagerly unbuckling as soon as Eddie parks the car. He starts to run towards the field, and all Eddie can picture is him tripping and hurting himself again.

“Harris, don’t–” he starts, but he then remembers those magic words: “Walking feet, bud. Don’t want you breaking that other wrist.” He grabs the soccer ball from the trunk and kicks it in Harris’s direction.

Wayne pulls up in his truck a few moments later, almost as exuberant as his grandson. “Har-Bear!” he calls out, opening his arms wide for a hug. Harris picks up his pace, slowing down when he remembers his dad’s instructions.

“I’m using my walking feet!” he chirps proudly, and though they’re fast walking feet, Eddie beams at him.

Wayne squeezes Harris so tightly that Eddie worries he’ll inadvertently cut off his oxygen supply. When the boy starts squirming, Wayne laughs and puts him down.

“Go ahead and play,” Eddie tells his son. “Grampa Wayne and I are gonna catch up real quick.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as the two men sit on the bench, waiting for the other to say something first. Finally, Wayne breaks through the tension.

“Missed you two,” he murmurs, not looking at Eddie. “‘S too quiet around my place without that little rugrat.”

“We missed you, too,” Eddie admits, chewing on his thumbnail. “Harris won’t stop asking for Grampa Wayne.”

Wayne preens slightly at this, shifting in his seat. “This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since…”

“I know,” Eddie cuts him off, not wanting to revisit the part of his past that Wayne’s referencing. “I, uh, started working at Rock Records,” he tells him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It sucks, but it’s a job.”

He feels Wayne clap him on the shoulder, pulling him closer to him for a brief side hug. “I’m proud of you, Ed.” He purses his lips before asking, “and no more of the…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I’m done with that. Returned the rest of what I had to Rick; told him I was out.” His gaze drops back to the ground, and he stares intently at the blades of grass as though they might disappear if he blinks. “But that might not matter anymore anyway, so…”

“The hell you talking about?” Wayne pinches his eyebrows together, adjusting his position to face his nephew.

Sighing, Eddie tells him about what happened at the hospital last week. Wayne’s eyes widen when he hears that they filed a report with CPS. “That’s some bullshit,” he mumbles, scratching at his gray beard. “Kids get hurt all the time. Can’t keep ‘em in a bubble.” He shakes his head incredulously. “They’re not gonna take him from you, okay? They’re gonna see how you provide for him, how great you are with him, and they’re gonna be sorry they wasted their time.”

“I’m not great with him,” Eddie mutters, standing up in a feeble attempt to exert some of his nervous energy. “I’m ruining his life.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “He had this teacher, and he adored her. Calls her ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’ And I was just…just a total asshole to her. I accused her of telling people about the CPS thing and said some really fucked up shit about her sick grandma and…fuck, Wayne. She had Harris transferred to another class just so she doesn’t have to deal with me. And now I have to say, ‘Hey, you know that teacher you fuckin’ loved? Well, she’s not your teacher any more, and it’s all my fault.’”

Wayne absorbs the information, contemplating what he says next. “So fix it,” he shrugs.

“It’s not that simple,” Eddie argues, plopping back down onto the bench in defeat. The wood digs into his lower back uncomfortably, so he stands up again.

“It’s not?” Wayne questions, digging a pack of Newports out of his jacket pocket and offering one to him. “Because it sounds to me like you owe this ‘Ms. Sweetheart’ an apology.”

Eddie takes a cigarette, toying with it before tucking it between his lips. It takes a few flicks of his old Bic lighter to get a spark, and he lets the nicotine calm his nerves before speaking again. “I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”

“Never said she would,” Wayne counters, plucking the Bic from Eddie’s hands and bringing the flame to light his own cigarette. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t apologize.”

Inhaling sharply, Eddie watches his son kick the ball around before letting out a slow, controlled exhale. “My boss asked if I could teach guitar lessons once or twice a week,” he says, using his empty hand to toy with the frayed holes in his jeans. “If…if you wanna, could you watch Harris? I can pay you.”

“Don’t insult me, boy,” Wayne scoffs, but a playful smile dances on his lips. “You’re not gonna pay me to watch my own grandson. Just let me know the day and time, and I’ll have a pot of mac and cheese ready to go.”

The pent-up tension dissipates from his body at Wayne’s easy agreement. An unspoken I love you floats between them, and he could cry from the sudden surge of relief.

“Daddy! Grampa!” Harris calls out from across the park. “Let’s play!”

Wayne stands up with a grunt, rolling his shoulders back to loosen them up. “You heard the man,” he jokes. “Up and at ‘em.”

It’s your first day off of work since the start of the school year, yet all you can think about are your students. Well, one particular student and his god-awful father. Eddie’s comment replays in your mind, cutting through you like the chilly mid-October air. The sting still hasn’t faded, despite it being three days since he’d said it. 

You say goodbye to your grandma and Elise, her home health aid, grabbing your car keys and closing the door behind you. This morning was already overwhelming; Grandma had woken up at 5 AM, ready to start her day. The sound of her TV blasting at the highest possible volume jolted you from your sleep, and you’d spent the following twenty minutes trying to persuade her to go back to bed. Unsuccessfully, you might add. 

You wince when you see your reflection in the rearview mirror. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, with pouches developing beneath them that only emphasize your exhaustion. You practice smiling a few times before starting the car, peeling out of the parking lot to meet Jess, Viv, and Jeff for lunch.

The pleasant aroma of burgers cooking on a grill wafts past your nose as you push open the doors to the restaurant. It isn’t too crowded when you arrive; you assume that the usual lunchtime rush is quelled by the Columbus Day holiday. Your new friends are already waiting at the table, waving you over excitedly.

“Hey,” you call out, forcing pleasantries into your otherwise flat tone. You slide into the seat next to Jess and across from Jeff. “How’s everyone been?”

“Better, now that I’m out of the first trimester,” Viv says with a small laugh. “Now that I have my appetite back, I’m definitely getting the grilled cheese.” She glances at the menu again, adding, “and a side of fries.”

Jess nods. “I think I’ll do the same.” She turns to you and her cheerful expression shifts to one of concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, just tired.” Your lackluster reply is unconvincing, but she doesn’t challenge it in front of Jeff and her sister. “Chasing after kids all day is wearing me out.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Viv exclaims, taking a sip of her water. “You’re a preschool teacher. The one with Eddie’s kid in your class!”

“Mhm,” you manage; the mere mention of Eddie’s name turns your throat into sandpaper. “Well, not any more, I guess.” Your throwaway comment is met with inquisitive stares, so you give the group a rundown of last week’s events, watching their eyes grow wide.

“He’s such a fucking douche,” Jess grumbles, resting her hand over yours. It feels like forever since you’ve experienced the simplicity of a kind gesture, and you have to swallow the emotion that comes with it. 

“Seriously,” Viv agrees, looking over at Jeff. “Why were you even friends with him?”

Jeff lets out a terse chuckle and shakes his head. “Believe it or not, he actually used to be a good guy. The best, in my opinion.” Disappointment flashes across his face as he continues. “Something changed when he went to Chicago. He was always on-guard, had his walls up, but it used to be more of an ‘if you mess with me, I’ll mess with you’ attitude. But when he came back home, he was…different.”

“Different how?” Curiosity gets the best of you, and the question slips off of your tongue before you can stop it.

“It was like he was determined to hurt people before they could hurt him. No matter what I did, he never fully believed that I was on his side. I was constantly trying to prove that I wasn’t out to fuck him over.”

Viv drapes an arm over her fiancé’s shoulder. “How long did he live in Chicago, again?”

“Long enough to knock someone up,” Jeff muses, mind wandering for a moment before he brings himself back to the conversation. “About four years, I think? He left to chase his dreams of being a rockstar. Then one day, he shows back up in Hawkins with an infant, trying to act like nothing had changed.” He snorts at the very idea of it. “But it obviously did–I mean, besides the fact that he had a whole child, the rest of us had grown up, too. College, work, all that stuff.

“When he suggested getting Corroded Coffin back together, we figured, why not? It seemed like a decent way to chill out, blow off some steam at the end of the day.”

“Let me guess,” you chime in, cocking your head knowingly. “Eddie had other ideas.”

Jeff nods. “He still wanted to do the rockstar thing. And he’d always get angry at us because we didn’t. Not professionally, anyway. Kept mocking us for having 9-to-5 jobs, like it was the worst thing in the world.” He pauses, screwing up his face in contemplation. “Which, come to think of it, was weird. Because back in high school, he told me that it really messed with him, not having that stability growing up. Y’know, before Wayne took him in.”

There’s so much more you want to know, but the waiter striding over to the table to take orders brings the conversation to a natural conclusion. What you’ve gathered so far is that Eddie Munson is a many-layered man, each one more puzzling than the last. Despite your festering hurt and anger, you can’t help but hope that he untethers himself from his complicated past. If not for his sake, then for Harris’s.

“Daddy, what’s a new cents?”

Eddie’s taking the left turn onto the main road when he hears his son speaking from the back seat. “What’s new since when?” he asks, craning his head to check for oncoming traffic. 

“Noooo,” Harris whines, letting out an exasperated sigh. Eddie has no clue where his new attitude came from, and he can’t say that he’s a fan. “A new cents.”

“That’s not a thing, buddy,” Eddie answers, starting to twist the radio knob. 

“Yes, it is!” Harris insists, clearly growing frustrated. “Ms. Marion told Ms. Paula that I’m a ‘new cents.’”

It suddenly clicks for Eddie, and he grips the steering wheel tighter and hopes Harris doesn’t notice the edge in his voice. “You mean a nuisance?”

“That’s what I said!” Harris groans. “What does it mean?”

Eddie pushes past the question to ask one of his own. “What exactly did Ms. Marion say?” Maybe there was a misunderstanding, he reasons with himself. 

But Harris’s answer only confirms his initial suspicion. “She looked at Ms. Paula and said, ‘this one’s a ‘new cents.’ An’ then she pointed to me.”

“Why the hell would she say that?” Eddie’s speaking to himself, but his son replies, still too young to grasp the concept of rhetorical questions. 

“‘Cause of my shoes being untied. An’ she doesn’t like when I ask her to tie them.”

Eddie cringes. He’d meant to teach Harris how to tie his sneakers, but the lessons had to be put on hold when the kid had broken his wrist. Pausing before posing his next question, Eddie carefully selects his words. “Did…Did Ms. Sweetheart ever do that? Get mad about your shoes or call you a nuisance?”

“Nope,” Harris shakes his head. “An’ Mr. Will didn’t either.” And considering that his laces had always been tied in neat bows when Eddie arrived to pick him up, he can only assume that the two of you did this without a second thought. Jesus, why even bother to be a preschool teacher if you’re gonna bitch about tying shoes?

“So, what is it?” Harris snaps him from his thoughts. 

“Huh?” Eddie’s right foot presses on the brake as he approaches a stop sign. “Oh. Um, I don’t know. Sorry, Har.” It’s the second time in as many days that he’s lied to him in order to spare his feelings. Yesterday, he’d waited until they were already in the school to tell Harris that he was picked for a super special project where he’d act as a secret agent in another class. He didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed that he’d spent all night thinking of that excuse. 

“‘S’okay,” Harris shrugs, raising and dropping his legs so they bounce off the bottom of his carseat. His ankles are exposed, and Eddie realizes that he must’ve grown. Again. Which means that he needs to scrape together some money and buy him new clothes. Again. “How much more days until I get to go back to Ms. Sweetheart’s class?”

“Not sure.” Lie number three. He flicks on the radio, the sounds of Ozzy effectively distracting Harris for the remainder of the car ride. 

If only it was that easy to fool himself. 

A harsh knock on your classroom door and the formality of your first and last name draws your attention from the mountain of paperwork on your desk. Will left thirty minutes ago with the rest of the TAs, so you’ve been sitting alone, humming a song you’d listened to on the car ride to work.

“Yes, that’s me,” you tell the tall man standing in the doorway. His intimidating stature and sullen disposition juxtapose the orange and yellow hues of autumn-themed artwork lining the walls. “Can I help you?”

He flashes a name tag as he steps into the classroom. “My name is Andrew Smith. I’m here on behalf of Child Protective Services to speak to you regarding one of your students…” he checks his notes, “Harris Munson.”

“Oh, um,” you stumble over your words, “he’s–he’s not my student any more. Not since Tuesday of this week.”

“Right,” the social worker nods slowly, patience already running thin, “but I briefly spoke with his new teacher, and she said that she didn’t have enough information to answer the questions, and directed me to your classroom.” When you don’t respond, he gives the legal rundown about the process and your obligations as a mandated reporter. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s proceed with this, shall we?” He clicks his pen, eyes boring a hole into you as he speaks. “How well would you say you know Harris’s father, Edward Munson?”

More intimately than you know, you bitterly think. “Fairly well. He dropped Harris off and picked him up every day.”

Mr. Smith scribbles that down. “Was Edward Munson punctual? Did he drop off and pick up Harris on time?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and your mind flickers back to the very first day of school. “There was only one time he was late for pick-up, but it’s common for that to happen once in a while with any parent.”

“Right, okay. And how would you describe Harris’s disposition around his father?”

“He adores him. He’s a generally happy kid, but he lights up around his dad. Or even when he’s just talking about him.” One lunchtime conversation in particular centered around how his dad could play anything on the guitar, even “Old MacDonald.” Harris had been bursting with excitement to report that Eddie made the funniest animal sounds, and you’d be lying if you’d said your interest wasn’t piqued. “I’ve never seen Harris act nervous or scared around him.”

Pen flies across the paper, and you swear he’s writing more than you’d even said. “Besides the broken wrist, did you ever notice any injuries or abnormal bruising anywhere on Harris’s body?” 

You shake your head before realizing he’s waiting for a verbal response. “Nope, never. Just the usual bruises that come with being a kid.”

Mr. Smith cocks his eyebrow, pressing his lips together. “And where were those bruises located?”

Shit. Did you say too much? Why can’t you just shut up when you’re nervous? “Knees and calves?” You point to the spots on your own body, as though the social worker needs visual aides, while silently berating your own stupidity.

“And based on your interactions with him, how would you describe Edward Munson as a father?” It’s a loaded question, and its magnitude is a weight on your chest. 

“Caring, attentive, very loving,” you answer honestly. “Responsible. Harris always showed up with lunch and a snack, bathed, clean clothes, whatever supplies he needed. I never worried that Harris was unsafe or in an unhealthy environment.” You force yourself to meet Mr. Smith’s gaze when you say the next part. “We, um, actually were at the hospital at the same time. My grandma got hurt, and we bumped into them when being discharged.”

This grabs his attention. “And did Mr. Munson appear to be impaired or otherwise behaving out of sorts?” The way he looks at you could easily be mistaken for a glare. “Under the influence of any substances, perhaps?”

“Not at all.” You keep your tone firm and even.

He shoves the paperwork at you, pointing to where your signature is required. “Thank you for your time,” he says flatly, leaving the room before you have time to reply. It seems nearly impossible to go back to the task you were working on before the interruption, but you try to push away the intrusive thoughts about everything that could possibly go wrong.

An hour later, the heavy-handed knock raps on the door to the Munson’s apartment. Eddie knows the drill; unfortunately, this isn’t his first run-in with Child Protective Services. He’s double, triple, quadruple-checked that every electrical outlet is covered, the matches and lighters are far from Harris’s reach, and there’s no remaining product from his recently-abandoned dealing days. The visit is technically unannounced, but since he’s not getting many visitors these days, there are limited options of who could be at his door.

“Edward Munson?” The social worker asks, giving him the same opening spiel he gave you. “I’ll just need to take a look around your home and make sure it’s a suitable living environment for your son.”

“Of course.” Eddie hopes he sounds more confident than he feels, but he can sense the waver in his voice. “Yeah, come on in.” He opens the door a bit wider and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, drawing unwanted attention from the social worker.

“Something the matter, Mr. Munson?”

“N-No,” Eddie insists, shaking his head. If he confesses to being nervous, this Smith guy could mistake it as an admission of guilt, and that’s the last thing he wants. “Just, um, long day?”

Smith recognizes the response with nothing more than a disbelieving glance as he makes his way through the apartment. Eddie watches silently, pushing down his anxiety with a thick swallow. His mind races when the social worker rummages through the refrigerator. Are there fruits and vegetables in there? Did I throw out that container of leftover spaghetti that overstayed its welcome? His stomach sinks when Smith marks something down in his notes but doesn’t have time to ruminate over it before Harris pokes his head out from the bedroom.

“Daddy? You gonna come back an’ play Hot Wheels with me?” His big brown eyes instantly melt Eddie’s heart, and all he wants to do is scream at the man, See? See how much my kid loves me? See how happy he is? Now, why don’t you go deal with the parents who actually deserve to lose custody and leave me to play with him.

Before Eddie can stop him, Harris traipses out and sees Smith rifling through the pantry. “Who’re you?” he asks.

“Har-Bear, this is Mr. Smith. He’s, uh, one of my friends.” Eddie scrunches his face and shakes his head defeatedly at the blatant lie, but Harris doesn’t notice.

Mr. Smith gives a short wave, neither kind nor impolite. Just one slight movement to acknowledge the boy’s presence. He’s determined to get back to his job, but Harris has other plans.

“I like your glasses.” He points to the wire-rimmed frames on the man’s face. “My Grampa Wayne is s’posed to wear glasses, but he doesn’t. Daddy says it’s ‘cause he’s a mule.”

“Stubborn as a mule, Har,” Eddie gently corrects him, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I’ll be in in a minute, okay?”

But Harris ignores his request, forging towards his dad’s friend. He lifts his arm and flashes an innocent smile. “Look at my cast! It’s from when I jumped on my bed and breaked my arm.”

“Harris!” Eddie hisses, trying to keep his cool. “Can you go play? In the room?” Pleading with him is like negotiating with a terrorist, and he knows his efforts are futile.

“Actually, I do need to take a look at Harris’s bedroom,” the social worker muses, tapping his pen against his lower lip. Eddie has to stifle a scoff at the charade that this just occurred to Smith. Like he didn’t have this mapped out, another bullet point on the list of uninformed judgments he needed to make.

“We, um, we share a room,” Eddie mumbles, as though there would be another possible reason as to why there’s a twin bed nestled into the same space as Harris’s race car bed. “I used to sleep on the couch, it’s just easier to be close to him when he has nightmares an’ stuff.” His heart races when Smith jots this down. “N-Not that he has nightmares a lot. I don’t let him watch scary movies or anything. Just normal kid stuff.”

The man nods, visibly irritated by his rambling. He clamps his mouth shut to inhibit the flow of unnecessary explanations that freely pass through his lips without a second thought.

Harris motions Smith over, using his uninjured hand to grab the stranger’s and leading him into the room. “That’s my bed,” he announces. It sounds like he’s giving a tour, and Eddie almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. “And that’s where I falled,” Harris points to the unassuming patch of carpet alongside it. 

“Ouch,” Smith mutters, and Eddie swears he can see a semblance of a smile. Leave it to Harris to thaw the most hardened of hearts. “I bet that hurt.”

“Yeah, but there was no blood,” Harris says nonchalantly. “An’ I didn’t need a shot. Just this cast. All my friends signed it. Even Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Ms. Sweetheart?” Smith repeats.

“She’s my teacher. Well, she was my teacher. Now I’m a super secret spy in Ms. Marion’s class, but don’t tell anyone!”

Eddie scoops up a couple of toy cars off of the floor and hands them to Harris, determined to end the conversation before anything else can be revealed. Can you get your kid taken away for being an asshole to his teacher? He doesn’t want to find out. “Here ya go, bud. Why don’t you get the racetrack set up, and I’ll play with you as soon as Mr. Smith leaves.”

“Actually,” Smith says, “I’m about finished. Mr. Munson,” he says, his natural stoicness settling back in as he turns back to Eddie, “after completing this investigation and conducting our interviews, I’ve determined that Harris may remain in your custody. I’ll just need you to sign a few forms and I’ll be on my way.”

Eddie’s relief is palpable. He sweeps Harris into a hug, clutching him to his chest and wordlessly swears to never put him back down. “Th-thank you,” he mumbles, acutely aware of the tears leaking from his eyes. “Wait–what interviews? No one interviewed me.”

Smith nods. “Yes, we spoke with Harris’s teacher. She only had great things to say about how well you take care of him.”

She did? He barely knows the woman; Harris has only been in her class for two full days, and she never indicated any partiality towards him. He makes a mental note to thank her tomorrow at drop-off. For now, all he wants to do is treasure every moment with his boy.

Eddie doesn’t want to let Harris out of his sight, but he begrudgingly takes him to school, not wanting to add a truancy charge to his growing list of misgivings. 

Ms. Marion greets both Munsons with a muted stare, harsh enough to drain Harris of the excited energy that typically buzzes through his little body. “Are we going to listen today?” she quips.

“Yes,” Harris says.

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Harris’s affect is robotic and monotone, and the uncharacteristic spiritlessness nearly distracts Eddie from thanking the older woman for her interview.

“The guy–um, the social worker–he told me that you said some nice things about me. About how I am with Harris,” he stammers. “So, uh, thank you.”

Ms. Marion crosses her arms over her faded pink sweater, pursing her overlined lips. Her forehead is marred with frown lines. “That wasn’t me, Mr. Munson. I directed him to speak to Harris’s previous teacher, since she spent more time with him.”

Ms. Sweetheart.

After everything he’d said and done, you’d still vouched for him. Spoken so highly of his parenting abilities that CPS allowed him to keep custody of his son. You could’ve easily ruined his life, but you didn’t. 

What Eddie doesn’t understand is why.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to; at least, not immediately. Right now, he just needs to fix this. And he knows exactly where to start.

Friday marks one week since your blowout fight with Eddie. One week since he’d caught you pathetically crying in your car because of the venom he’d spewed. One week since you’d informed him that you’d had Harris transferred to another class.

Which is why you’re confused when the boy bounds up to your classroom door, shouting, “Ms. Sweetheart! Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Hey, Harris,” you greet him, unable to mask your confusion. “What are you doing here? You’re in Ms. Marion’s class now, remember?”

Harris nods, his curls bouncing with each movement. He drops his backpack to the floor with a thud and unfastens the zipper, tongue poking from between his lips as he digs through it to brandish a cassette. “This is for you.”

You take it from him, eyes widening as you take in Toni Braxton’s face staring back at you. “Harris…where did you get this?”

“My daddy put it there and said to give it to you. So I did,” he answers with a shrug. He looks up at you, innocuous and angelic as he adds, “I miss you. I wish you could be my teacher again.”

“Me, too,” you reply before thinking. Clearing your throat, you kneel down to meet him at his height. “Thank you for my gift. It was very sweet. Go ahead and head to class now, okay? I don’t want you to be late.”

“Mmkay!” he chirps, slinging his still-opened bag over his shoulder. “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart.”

Why would Eddie buy you a tape? Why this tape, the one you’d come in for when he’d said such malicious things to you? You can’t make sense of it, regardless of how many times you try to piece together the puzzle.

At dismissal, you find yourself waiting by the door, hoping to catch Eddie before he can dash out of the school. There’s no logic to his actions: he despised you enough to weaponize your grandma’s cognitive decline, and then he gives you a gift with no further explanation. 

You distractedly hand parents the sign-out sheet, barely registering when Joshua Harrington’s dad asks you about any upcoming plans for a class Halloween party. 

“Is there gonna be a list of things you need? Candy or cupcakes or something?”

“Oh, uh, I’m gonna send home information about that next week,” you stumble over your words as you try not to make it obvious that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Great,” he says, stretching out the word as he tracks your gaze to the spot behind him. “Everything okay?”

“Yup.” You slap a smile on your face just as you spot the mane of frizzy curls you’d been searching for. “Um, excuse me for a second.” You call out to Will, letting him know you’ll be right back, before sprinting down the hallway. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris’s eager face twists into a frown. “You gotta use your walking feet in school. Or you could get hurt.”

Eddie moves to correct him, but you just smile sweetly. “You’re right, Harris. Thanks for reminding me.”

You allow your gaze to travel upwards, eyes locking onto Eddie’s. You can’t quite read his expression; his brows are furrowed in confusion but the flush in his face indicates that he knows why you’re here. 

“Harris gave me the tape. The Toni Braxton one.” Like he’d gifted you myriad cassettes that required this distinction. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” The right corner of his lips turns up into a half-smile. “Besides, I  should probably be the one thanking you.”

“Me?” What is he talking about? As far as you know, you’re the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah. For, uh, what you said to that social worker guy. Even after I treated you like a piece of…” he presses his palms to Harris’s ears and lowers his voice, “shit.”

That makes sense; he was relieved that you’d sang his praises when it had mattered most. This was an expression of gratitude; nothing more and nothing less.

“You’re a good parent, even if you’re mean to me,” you say nonchalantly. “I wasn’t going to make up lies and ruin your lives out of spite.”

The statement hangs in the air, gathering an awkward silence that has you and Eddie both grappling for ways to end the conversation. 

He’s the one to interject. “Well, anyway, I hope you like the tape.”

“Mhm.” It’s all you allow yourself to utter in front of Harris. A thousand questions swarm your head, threatening to spill off your tongue, the first of which is simply: why? “I’ve gotta get back. But, um, enjoy your weekend.” You pivot on your heel before Eddie can wish you the same. With the necessary chaos of your life, you can’t invest any more time trying to unravel him. 

“Daddy, when is Ms. Sweetheart gonna be my teacher again?”

Eddie knew it was inevitable that Harris would ask about going back to your class, but he thought he’d bought himself more time with the spy game he’d concocted. He can’t delay the truth any longer. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t think you can switch back.” There’s a pang in his heart when his son drops his hand, digging his heels into the parking lot asphalt. 

“Is it because you were mean to her?”

His question catches Eddie off-guard. “Wh-What?”

“In there,” Harris points towards the school, “she said you’re mean to her.” He squints when he looks up at his father, the midday sun shining in his eyes. “Why were you mean?”

Eddie exhales, puffing out his cheeks and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes grownups accidentally hurt each others’ feelings.” Or purposely, in his case, but he omits the complexities from his explanation. He reaches out to once again take Harris’s hand, but the boy pulls back. 

“Ms. Sweetheart says that when we hurt someone’s feelings, we gotta say sorry. Even if it’s on accident.”

“I did,” Eddie counters, raising his brows. “I gave her the tape.”

But Harris remains unconvinced. “That’s not saying sorry. You gotta actually say it. Or else it doesn’t count.”

“It doesn’t count, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue and puts his hands on his hips. “All right, I’ll say it the next time I see her.”

“And then you can be friends?” The question is posed innocently, but it rattles Eddie. Friends? Did he even know how to be a decent friend any more? He’d fucked it all up with Gareth, Jeff, and Danny, and he’s known them for forever. “Daddy?” “Uh, maybe,” Eddie replies meekly; this time, Harris grabs his hand when he offers it. “We’ll just have to see.”

--

taglist 1/2:

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[itsphoenix0724]

Flower Power (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Az comes into contact with a strange flower on his trip to the continent, and he begins having some strange.....side effects.

Word Counts: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, aphrodisiac sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls)

A/N: Hello everyone! This is entirely self-indulgent I'm not even gonna lie. The next part of Your Heart on a Platter will be out soon, but I could not focus on it with this idea in my head. I tried to play around with different POVs, so I hope it came out okay! Please enjoy, and as always constructive criticism is welcome!

“Thank you for coming,” Rhys mutters, quickly ushering you into the small apartment and closing the door behind you. Nothing appears to be in disarray so that means that Az was at least coherent enough to get himself back to his apartment and not break anything in the process. 

“He seems okay right now, but I thought you should give him a once over anyway.”

“Of course,” you nod at Rhys, “Better to be safe than sorry.” You had officially joined the Inner Circle as a healer 30 years ago when Madja retired, and you had easily grown into part of your found family. You were always closer to Az, you preferred his quiet demeanor over the loudness and boyishness of the rest of the family, and he actually was quite funny if you listened to him. You two quickly became a pair of wall flowers at social events, always holed up in some corner quietly joking about your family’s antics.  

Apparently, when Az had been on a mission to the continent he had come into contact with some strange flower. Rhys had sent you the mental playback of Az falling out of the sky into a field of those flowers, and you had researched them to the best of your ability before you came over. 

For Az’s sake, you really hoped this wasn’t the flower you thought it was. 

“How do you feel Az?” you ask, walking into the room to find Az sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He looks up at you in greeting, hazel eyes tracking your movements to him across the room. 

“I feel fine. Rhys is just being a mother hen.” He offers you a small smirk as you roll your eyes and move to stand in between his legs. You try to fight down the smile forming on your lips and fail, and his eyes shine with victory. 

“This is supposed to be a professional medical visit Shadowsinger,” you tut, smiling as you run your hands through his hair to check for any bumps from his fall. Az lets his eyes slip shut, enjoying the way your fingers feel in his hair. He has to stop himself from reaching for your wrists as you drag your hands away. “How are you feeling?”

“Throats a little sore,” He mutters, “My back hurts from the crash landing but I’ve had worse.” He notices the way your eyes widen slightly when he mentions his sore throat. “What is it?” he tugs at your hips pulling you closer into his space. He has to fight down the urge to nuzzle his head into your neck. Your smell is much stronger than usual, fresh tea and rainwater, but he chalks it up to being away from you for a few days. 

“You might be experiencing some strange….side effects from the plants that you crash landed into.” Your cheeks flush a bright red. Azriel furrows his eyebrows at you, he doesn’t understand why you’re so embarrassed. You let out a sigh. 

You have to tell him no matter how much it embarrasses you. You can’t let him go into this blind. 

“The flower field you crashed into may have certain aphrodisiac properties.” you manage to choke out, and you watch as dark red floods the tan skin on Azriel’s cheeks.

“Oh” Az coughs, running a hand through his hair. “When will we find out?” You’ve never seen him so bashful before. He refuses to make eye contact with you.

“We should know by tomorrow morning,” You clear your throat. “If you wake up tomorrow with a fever you’ve been affected. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight just in case you need something, and if you are affected I’ll monitor your recovery.” He nods at you again.

“And will you be safe here…If I am affected.” Azriel would hate himself if he did anything to you while he wasn’t himself. He was pleading with the mother that this would end up being nothing. His self-control around you was paper thin enough already. 

He didn’t need a flower turning him into a glorified beast thrown into the mix as well. 

“You won’t hurt me,” you promise and you can see his shoulders slump. “I’ll make you some tea before bed, and tell Rhys we might be holed up here for a couple of days. Then you should probably get some rest.” Azriel nods at you again as you leave the room.

You make your way to the kitchen and find Rhys perched against the island. His eyes are glazed over in a way that tells you he’s probably talking to Feyre. You root around in Az’s cabinet and find your favorite brand of tea tucked away in the back. Your face flushes as you realize he must have bought it at your recommendation, and you can’t help but be reminded of the many times you and Az had spent combing over books in the library over this same brand of tea. Your daydream is interrupted as Rhys clears his throat behind you. He notices the blush on your cheeks and sends you a feline smirk. 

Bastard.

“How’s the patient?” he asks, leaning across the island. 

“He’s okay for right now. I’m going to stay and monitor him throughout the night. If he is having a reaction I’ll stay and make sure he’s okay, but it’ll probably be a couple of days before the drug runs its course naturally.” You allow yourself to slip back into the role of healer instead of a friend to make this conversation less embarrassing. 

“I’m sure Az will be happy he gets to hole up here with you for a few days. The last time I had time like that with Feyre I took full advantage.” Rhys smirks again at the flames rising to your cheeks, playfully wiggling his eyebrows. 

You wonder if Feyre would punish you for treason if you sent a mug flying at Rhy’s head. 

“Rhysand!” you admonish, “Azriel and I are friends and that is all. Plus I would never take advantage of him like that.” All Rhys does is laugh and wish you luck as he winnows out, most likely straight into the arms of his mate to tell her about the weekend you’re possibly in for. You wander back into Azriel’s room armed with a mug of tea and a book to keep him occupied. You find him still perched on the edge of the bed lost in thought. He’s no longer in his leathers and instead changed them out for comfortable pants. It takes your mind a second to process the fact that he’s shirtless. Large wings are draped across the bed, and you find yourself staring at the muscled back and swirls of tattoos across his chest. His shadows end up noticing you’re there before he does as one comes to swirl excitedly around your wrist pulling you in front of its master. Az offers you a small smile as you set the cup of tea down on his nightstand and press the book into his hands. 

“What’s this?” he questions you, scarred hands thumbing through the pages. Your eyes track every move of those fingers as they gently run down the spine. The shadows are curling around your ankles as he looks up at you again, “newest read?”

Mother those hands get you every fucking time

“I thought you’d like it,” you nod. “I wanted to wait and give it to you when you got back from the continent, and I figured it might keep your mind busy while we were stuck here.” Az shoots you a grateful smile as he sets the book down beside him on the bed. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” Azriel immediately protests, grabbing at your wrist to stop your exit.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he argues, ever the gentleman. You can tell he already feels bad enough about you having to stay. 

“It’s alright Az. You need to rest, and I know you won’t be able to sleep well on the couch with your wings.” He considers for a moment then relents as a shadow brushes across your cheek in thanks. You wish him goodnight as you leave his room to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Distantly you can hear Azriel settle into bed, and flick through the pages of the book you gave to him. You flick through the pages of the book you brought before drifting to sleep on the couch. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Go, go go” 

The first thing Azriel notices when he wakes up is the fact that he feels like his whole body is on fire. He shoves off the thin pants he already wore to bed, leaving him in just his black undershorts, and practically throws the comforter down to the floor with them. Leaving just the thin bed sheet as he rolls over to the other side. The second thing he notices is that his shadows are frantic, whispering to him nonstop to go somewhere. 

“Go Where,” Azriel growls out into the smoke. The soreness in his throat apparently has gotten worse. 

The swirl stops for a moment before continuing with their chatter. It now seems like they’re talking more to each other than himself. He tries to listen in again, but it only gives him a pounding headache. 

“Go go go,” They urge again as the swirling black mass moves to the door. 

“Go, living room, go” They haven’t been this insistent in a long time, and when he hears the living room he’s worried that something has happened to you. He relents letting a shadow creep under the door to go investigate the living room. He lets himself phase out for a moment, seeing through the eyes of shadow to where you’re peacefully sleeping curled on the couch. He exhales a sigh of relief. 

Safe. You were safe. 

The shadow, however, was much more interested in the way your bare legs were curled on the couch as it happily swirled around your thighs. Azriel tried to reign it back in, but it refused to budge, so eventually he relents and just lets it stay with you. 

He indulges in a few more minutes of watching your breathing before dragging himself back into his body. 

The fever was quickly becoming unbearable as he drags himself out of his sweat-soaked sheets and into a cold bath. It helps slightly, but the flames beneath his skin continue to burn him alive. The shadow he left slinking around your sleeping form has reported that you’re awake and heading into his bathroom now. He swears he can feel his fever spike higher the closer he gets to you. You greet him with a warm smile and a glass of cold water, and he notices the pink tint to your cheeks as you reach down to feel his forehead. 

God, you smell so fucking good. 

Az feels like he’s under a spell, or maybe he’s in a dream. You look like an angel, and Az wants nothing more than to drag you and that pretty nightgown right into the bathtub with him and-

Mother above he had to get a hold of himself right fucking now before he does something he would regret once this stupid thing was out of his system. It takes him a minute to process that you’ve been speaking. 

“-have to go to the House, apparently there was an accident in training.” You look back at Az again and realize that he’s zoned out. “Az are you even listening to me?” His eyes snap back up to your face and shoots you a guilty smile. 

“I’m sorry, I’m finding it very hard to concentrate at the moment.” You understand of course, and touch your hand to his head again. Sending out a wave of power to at least ease his fever for a while. Az immediately lets out a sigh of relief, sinking further into the bath as he feels his mind returning to him. His eyes seem more focused, so you tell him about your plans to go to the House again to deal with an accident that happened in training. You leave Az to finish his bath and get dressed before leaving for the House of Wind. 

A couple of hours pass and Azriel feels like a prowling animal. His condition has only worsened since you left, and he’s had a very painful hard on that will not go away even after he’s relieved himself quite a few times. His shadows have been swarming in tense clumps and everything about this environment reads “Dangerous, stay away.” Azriel settles onto his bed again, palming himself through his leathers, for what seems like the 5th time his mind starts running as yanks his pants down. 

He feels ashamed of himself when he pictures your mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand, but at the moment he can’t bring himself to care. His mind won’t stop no matter what he does. What would’ve happened if he pulled you into the bathtub this morning, his head between your thighs in that damn blue dress you wore last starfall. Him fucking into from behind after a night of him watching you dance at Rita’s. He’s never accepted your invitations to dance, he realizes, too afraid that his paper thin self control would snap. 

He decides to say fuck self control, he would crawl from here to spring for a taste of you if that’s what you asked.

He hears his front door open as his shadows rush to investigate. He knows it’s you returning from the house of wind, and he moans when he hears you call his name. He hears you in the kitchen as he shoots himself up to go find you. His brain feels disconnected from his body and the only thing he feels is primal need. You’re turned around washing some kind of fruit in the sink. He’s ready to get down on his knees, and beg you to touch him. 

And then he smells it.

You’re covered in the strong earthy scent that belongs to Cassian, and it sends his mind into overdrive. You don’t hear him creep up behind you, and he turns you around against the sink. All of the strong hard muscle is pressed up against you, and you jump as you realize that he doesn’t have any clothes on. 

“Az,” you manage to stutter out “What’s wrong, what’s going on?” He growls against your neck when you say his name, grinding his hard length against you as you shudder.

“You smell like Cassian,” he snarls “and you’re mine.” He presses his lips against the curve of your neck, trying to drown out everything that smells like his brother. You moan as Az bites at the pulse point behind your ear.

“Azriel we can’t. Not now, not like this.” This is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you won’t take advantage of him like this. 

“You want me,” Azriel counters. “I can smell you dripping for me.” He proves his point by grinding against you again as you let out a loud moan that Az wants to swallow. “I want you too, can’t you feel it?” 

Your resolve is obviously cracking and the Spymaster can clearly tell. 

“I always want you,” Azriel promises in a shocking moment of clarity as he runs his nose along the shell of your ear. “This is me, these are my feelings, but I just can’t help myself right now. Please, I need to touch you, and if we both come out of this and regret everything we never have to talk about it again.” Your resolve finally cracks, and Az practically purrs into your ear as you agree. Dragging your pants and underwear down in foul swoop, Az hoists you onto the counter and sinks to his knees before you. 

“Been thinking about this pussy for years now,” Az mumbles between your thighs as he licks one strong stripe through your center.

He eats you like a starving man, licking and sucking at your core until your thighs are clamping around his head. When one of his fingers slips inside you, you scream his name so loud you think the windows ratte against their frame. He fucks you with his fingers until his finds the soft spot inside of you, and you’re cuming all over his tongue. Az laps up the mess he made before you’re yanking him up to get his mouth on yours. You moan at the taste of you on his tongue as his hands make quick work of the rest of your clothing. Az grabs around your thighs, hoisting you into his arms as the world falls away and all the sudden he’s throwing you onto the bed. You reach your hand down to cup Azriel before he pulls your hand away and shakes his head. 

“No I want to finish inside you” Az presses more kisses all over your neck as he reaches down to pull at your nipples. You arch your hips off the bed as you grind yourself against him in an attempt to find some kind of relief. Az slowly eases himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. He lets you have a few moments to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a relentless pace. 

At this point the only thing you remember is Azriel’s name and the way he’s making you feel. 

Az is close, his thrusts are becoming irregular and he just needs one final push. You reach across his broad shoulders and run your hand along his wing in a way that makes Azriel let out a roar. He reaches down and rubs at the apex of your thighs as you both crash through your orgasms together. He collapses onto the sheets beside you as his mind seems to be returning to his body. You can tell the drug is working its way out of his system. His burning hot fever lowering as you feel his whole body tense beside you. You squeeze your eyes shut. 

You can’t bear to see the look of regret on his face. 

Azriel clears his throat and says your name, clearly trying to get your attention. You pry your eyes open, and see the guilty look on his face. 

“Az, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I'm so so sorry.” Az immediately looks confused as he violently shakes his head before putting a hand on your jaw. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, I’m sorry I should have been able to control myself. I didn’t want it to happen like this.” Your eyes snap up to meet Az’s, hazel eyes tracking your face. 

“What do you mean ‘happen like this’ Az.” Pink floods his cheeks as he looks away from you, mouth clamping shut. “Azriel.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at you again. 

“I wanted to court you properly. Take you on dates, bring you flowers. The things that a good respectable male should do instead of just taking you to bed. I especially didn’t want to put you in a situation where you felt like you couldn’t say no.” Az runs his hand along your jaw again. “If you want nothing to do with me now I understand, but I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time.”

You can’t help but start laughing as Az looks up at you with a bewildered look on his face. “Why are you laughing?” Azriel questions, his eyebrows furrowing together. You lean over and press a kiss against Az’s lips. 

“I have feelings for you too, I just didn’t think you felt that way for me.” Az shakes his head as he leans over to kiss you again.

“I still want to do this right. Take you on dates and such.” he mumbles against your lips, and your body starts to tingle from your toes to the tips of your fingers. 

“I think that can be arranged Shadowsinger.”

[alphynix]

Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 2: Walking With Victorian Dinosaurs

[Previously: the Permian and the Triassic]

The next part of the Crystal Palace Dinosaur trail depicts the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods. Most of the featured animals here are actually marine reptiles, but a few dinosaur species do make an appearance towards the end of this section.

Although there are supposed to be three Jurassic ichthyosaur statues here, only the big Temnodontosaurus platyodon could really be seen at the time of my visit. The two smaller Ichthyosaurus communis and Leptonectes tenuirostris were almost entirely hidden by the dense plant growth on the island.

Ichthyosaurs when fully visible vs currently obscured Left side image by Nick Richards (CC BY SA 2.0)

Head, flipper, and tail details of the Temnodontosaurus. A second ichthyosaur is just barely visible in the background.

Ichthyosaurs were already known from some very complete and well-preserved fossils in the 1850s, so a lot of the anatomy here still holds up fairly well even 170 years later. They even have an attempt at a tail fin despite no impressions of such a structure having been discovered yet! Some details are still noticeably wrong compared to modern knowledge, though, such as the unusual amount of shrinkwrapping on the sclerotic rings of the eyes and the bones of the flippers.

———

Arranged around the ichthyosaur, three different Jurassic plesiosaurs are also represented – “Plesiosaurus” macrocephalus with the especially sinuous neck on the left, Plesiosaurus dolichodeirus in the middle, and Thalassiodracon hawkinsi on the right.

They're all depicted here as amphibious and rather seal-like, hauling out onto the shore in the same manner as the ichthyosaurs. While good efforts for the time, we now know these animals were actually fully aquatic, that they had a lot more soft tissue bulking out their bodies, and that their necks were much less flexible.

———

The recently-installed new pivot bridge is also visible here behind some of the marine reptiles.

———

Positioned to the left of the other marine reptiles, this partly-obscured pair of croc-like animals are teleosaurs (Teleosaurus cadomensis), a group of Jurassic semi-aquatic marine crocodylomorphs.

A better view of the two teleosaurs by MrsEllacott (CC BY-SA 4.0)

The Crystal Palace statues have the general proportions right, with long thin gharial-like snouts and fairly small limbs. But some things like the shape of the back of the head and the pattern of armored scutes are wrong, which is odd considering that those details were already well-known in the 1850s.

———

Finally we reach the first actual dinosaur, and one of the most iconic statues in the park: the Jurassic Megalosaurus!

Megalosaurus bucklandi was the very first non-avian dinosaur known to science, discovered in the 1820s almost twenty years before the term "dinosaur" was even coined.

At a time when only fragments of the full skeleton were known, and before any evidence of bipedalism had been found, the Crystal Palace rendition of Megalosaurus is a bulky quadrupedal reptile with a humped back and upright bear-like limbs. It's a surprisingly progressive interpretation for the period, giving the impression of an active mammal-like predator.

This statue suffered extensive damage to its snout in 2020, which was repaired a year later with a fiberglass "prosthesis".

———

Reaching the Cretaceous period now, we find Hylaeosaurus (and one of the upcoming Iguanodon peeking in from the side).

Hylaeosaurus armatus was the first known ankylosaur, although much like the other dinosaurs here its life appearance was very poorly understood in the early days of paleontology. Considering how weird ankylosaurs would later turn out to be, the Crystal Palace depiction is a pretty good guess, showing a large heavy iguana-like quadruped with hoof-like claws and armored spiky scaly skin.

It's positioned facing away from viewers, so its face isn't very visible – but due to the head needing to be replaced with a fiberglass replica some years ago, the original can now be seen (and touched!) up close near the start of the trail.

———

Two pterosaurs (or "pterodactyles" according to the park signs) were also supposed to be just beyond the Hylaeosaurus, but plant growth had completely blocked any view of them.

Although these two statues are supposed to represent a Cretaceous species now known as Cimoliopterus cuvieri, they were probably actually modeled based on the much better known Jurassic-aged Pterodactylus antiquus.

A second set of pterosaur sculptures once stood near the teleosaurs, also based on Pterodactylus but supposed to represent a Jurassic species now known as Dolicorhamphus bucklandii. These statues went missing in the 1930s, and were eventually replaced with new fiberglass replicas in the early 2000s… only to be destroyed by vandalism just a few years later.

(The surviving pair near the Hylaeosaurus are apparently in a bit of disrepair these days, too, with the right one currently missing most of its jaws.)

Image by Ben Sutherland (CC BY 2.0)

The Crystal Palace pterosaurs weren't especially accurate even for the time, with heads much too small, swan-like necks, and bird-like wings that don't attach the membranes to the hindlimbs. Hair-like fuzz had been observed in pterosaur fossils in the 1830s, but these depictions are covered in large overlapping diamond-shaped scales due to Richard Owen's opinion that they should be scaly because they were reptiles.

But some details still hold up – the individual with folded wings is in a quadrupedal pose quite similar to modern interpretations, and the bird-like features give an overall impression of something more active and alert than the later barely-able-to-fly sluggish reptilian pterosaur depictions that would become common by the mid-20th century.

(Much like the statues themselves, the "modern" reconstruction above is based on Pterodactylus rather than Cimoliopterus)

———

The last actual dinosaurs on this dinosaur trail are the two Cretaceous Iguanodon sculptures. At the time of my visit they weren't easy to make out behind the overgrown trees, and only the back end of the standing individual was clearly visible.

Named only a year after Megalosaurus, Iguanodon was the second dinosaur ever discovered, and early reconstructions depicted it as a giant iguana-like lizard.

The Crystal Palace statues depict large bulky animals, one in an upright mammal-like stance and another reclining with one hand raised up. (This hand is usually resting on a cycad trunk, but that element appeared to be either missing or fallen over when I was there.)

Famously a New Year's dinner party was held in the body of the standing Iguanodon during its construction, although the accounts of how many people could actually fit inside it at once are probably slightly exaggerated.

A clearer view by Jim Linwood (CC BY 2.0)

Considering that the skull of Iguanodon wasn't actually known at the time of these sculpture's creation, the head shape with a beak at the front of the jaws is actually an excellent guess. The only major issue was the nose horn, which was an understandable mistake when something as strange as a giant thumb spike had never been seen in any known animal before.

(The fossils the Crystal Palace statues are based on are actually now classified as Mantellisaurus atherfieldensis, but the "modern" reconstruction above depicts the chunkier Iguanodon bernissartensis.)

———

Image by Doyle of London (CC BY-SA 4.0)

I also wasn't able to spot the Cretaceous mosasaur on the other side of the island due to heavy foliage obscuring the view.

Depicting Mosasaurus hoffmannii, this model consists of only the front half of the animal lurking at the water's edge. It's unclear whether this partial reconstruction is due to uncertainty about the full appearance, or just a result of money and time running out during its creation.

The head is boxier than modern depictions, and the scales are too large, but the monitor-lizard like features and paddle-shaped flippers are still pretty close to our current understanding of these marine reptiles. It even apparently has the correct palatal teeth!

Next time: the final Cenozoic section!

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me

Meant to post this before Halloween except it got reaaaally long so I split it up. 🙈 It works as a standalone, though. I'll put the other parts up at some point hehe.

Actual!Angel and Devil!Ren AU (yoinked from da discord bot once again) One visit to earth turns into eternity. 1.4k words + GN reader

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

With pearly white wings and a halo of gold, you were a disciple in heaven’s endless library. Duty bound to organize records and histories of paradise and its worlds below. Though you’d never looked within those records, just being in their presence gave you curiosity about your god’s creations all the same.

Once every hundred or so years in your infinite lifespan, you sought to venture into the human realm before returning to your celestial duty. It was an odd request to your peers. None were as interested in mortals as you so each visit was a lonely affair. You never stayed more than an hour or two, merely observing how they had changed from a favored seat in the clouds above, lest someone spotted you. It was only meant to be a short trip as always. This time something felt different.

In the quaint seaside town you were fond of visiting, you'd sensed a devil and dared to investigate. Of course, you'd never met one, so you had no idea what that uneasy feeling even was until your feet touched the ground for the very first time.

The devil seemed to be asleep in a field of blossoms, butterflies fluttering about. Spring was always in full bloom when you descended to earth. Pastel pink hair blended with the flowers, only making the black horns atop his head and the symbols scrawled along his arms stand out even more.

You approached with caution and curiosity. Though they were meant to be your sworn enemy, heaven's few rumors about devils already appeared untrue. The fauna and flora around him weren't withered and rotting, but full of life. He didn't smell of burning flesh, nor was he covered head to toe in the blood of his victims. If anything, his form seemed almost angelic.

He opened his eyes as you came closer, and their sky blue color welcomed you further. "Ah, could I be dreaming? Or has an angel come to rescind my eternal punishment?" he spoke wryly. 

"Nay, devil. I want no trouble from you," you said in response, caught off guard by his casual, relaxed greeting. You took a few fearful steps away when he rose to lean back on his hands.

"Hmm... You have some holy divination or blessing to bestow upon this land, I assume. I've no intention of interfering." He smiled up at you, and those angelic features seemed even more prominent. Were it not for the pointed tail swishing with vigor behind him, you'd think this devil was one of your own.

"There's no mission I've been given," you explained with a shake of your head, "I'm only here to observe my god's world for a few moments, out of my own curiosity."

"Fascinating. I've never known angels to take interest in mortal affairs before their passing. Then, if no duty calls for thee—" he stopped to pluck a white bud that hadn't quite fully bloomed from the sea around him. "Might you grace me with your divine visage for one moment longer, little angel? I've called earth my home for millennia—and damnation is dreadfully boring. I could help with those curiosities, if you so desire." He held the bud out to you as an offering.

Though his words sounded sincere, you felt unsure. “...Do you take me to be so naive? I know your kind favor trickery.”

“I only offer my companionship,” he gave an innocent shrug. That heavenly smile was still fixed on you.

Your eyes darted between his outstretched hand and his face. Eventually, you took the flower from him. You could sense no ill intent on their part, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a little while. Nonetheless, you’d do your best to stay on guard.

~

The sun dipped lower in the sky as you lost track of time. Ren, you learned, knew far more of humans than you ever imagined. Your interest in them grew with each story he told of the world. At his urging, you'd gone to the beach to wander up close among them. It was a bit of a struggle to prepare—you'd never been told that your wings could retract or your halo could be hidden. But he coached you through it, not so much as flinching at the sting of divine power when you accidentally hit his arm with a wing on the first try. For a devil, he was oddly knowledgeable of things beyond his damned realm.

“You said your visits were always over in the late morning. So you haven’t seen this time of day, have you?” he asked as you both walked along the shore, waves glittering in gentle reds and pinks you’d never known the sun to make.

“I haven’t seen this terrain either.” Even with the occasional pausing stares of young children and animals—the only beings who could see your true form, as they were without sin—you were thrilled at the new experiences you were having. Your footsteps painted the sand rather unevenly compared to his. It was impossible to get used to the sinking feeling, nor the coarse sand getting into your sandals. You laughed at the sensation. “Heaven is all clouds and gardens. Here… it’s so different. The sun shines differently. But it’s still just as beautiful.”

He took your hand in his to keep you steady, pulling you towards the water’s edge. They were all too comfortable with the action, but you didn't spare it a thought. The guard you were meant to keep up had been thrown aside long ago. “I’m honored to show you such new experiences. And I only hope to give you more.” Ren’s face was bathed in a heavenly glow as he guided you into the water. 

It was a stark contrast. The once warm sand turned to a bracing cold, almost slimy texture as the water slowly rose up to your waist. You raised your other hand up high to avoid it, still clutching the late blooming bud he’d picked for you.

The pink-haired devil brought you to a stop and nodded out at the setting sun with an unreadable look, “I’m sure you won’t be able to take your eyes away from it. I couldn’t, my first time seeing the sun disappear.” At his suggestion you turned your head to watch, barely aware of the way their tail wrapped around your hips to keep you close.

It was captivating as the sun began to fall further beyond the horizon, the hues of the day gradually shifting both in the sky and sea before your eyes. Golds, reds, pinks, and purples all chased after the light, leaving behind a blue as cold as the water felt. In what seemed like an instant, it was over too soon—not a trace left of the glorious sun that never set back in the heavens you called home. Strangely enough, your body tensed with heavy feelings. As if you were saying goodbye to a part of you. You stood staring out at the graying ocean for a long while, until the cold water lapping against your skin felt no different from the air.

“How was it?” he gently broke the silence. You felt his hand move to rest over your own, cradling the flower still between your fingers. The heat of his touch guided you to meet his gaze.

“Breathtaking, I think,” you whispered with a frown as you looked up at him. “And a bit sad? All that warmth disappeared—I’m not sure how to feel.”

“Breathtaking as the sun is, you’ll find on earth that some flowers show their true beauty without its watchful eye, my little angel,” he said to reassure you. The bud in your shared grasp opened slowly at his words, its tapered white petals unfurling to reveal pale lavender edges as the sky darkened further. His fingers traced behind your ear before he tucked the flower among the strands of your hair, seeming to admire it. “You’d never have known if you’d only stayed those few moments.”

You searched his eyes as his hand lingered at your cheek. Just as when you first met, there was no malice in their voice. A devil who appreciated your god’s work felt unheard of. From Ren's intense gaze he looked as if he revered them. He must've been a kindred soul—or the equivalent of a soul in demons. You wanted to know more about him as well, not just mortals. 

Their fangs gleamed in the faint moonlight when you quietly asked, “What else can you show me?”

[writtenonreceipts]

a/n: Bonus points if you can point out where one of my (many) mental breakdowns occurs.  She’s a bit of a disaster.  I literally don’t know where this came from…

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas @aelinschild!  Written as part of the @rowaelinscourt secret santa exchange. Thanks for putting up with me and my myriad of asks.  It’s been wonderful to get to know you these last few weeks! <3<3<3<3

Find the companion Elorcan piece here! Set just a few months before the main events of this story.

AO3 Link here

Warnings: nothing major, non-explicit/passing mentions of trauma/abuse, very brief mention of drugs ~25k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Until the Dust Settles

A golden sun set behind the Oakwald Mountains, casting long shadows across the long stretch of land that made up Whitethorn Ranch.  The acres were a makeup of subtle rills and hills where horses could run for ages and the flatter earth where a decent sized garden yielded a fair amount for the farmers market in the spring and summer. 

The land had been in Rowan Whitethorn’s family for over one hundred years—it was the only home he’d ever known.  He’d grown up racing horses through the vast fields or spending winter chasing down animals that had gotten loose in a storm.  He would admit that sometimes it was a hard life to live—the constant work, the fear for the animal’s safety.  But it certainly had its benefits.

The spring and summer that actually made the land worth having.  Not only because there in the farther outreaches of the countryside, things seemed untouched by society—which really was the only thing worth mentioning.  But it also allowed for the most tourism and when most people came to visit that ranch.

For nearly twenty years now, Whitethorn Ranch was mostly known for its outreach program for troubled teens.  When kids needed time away from home where it was for depression, anxiety, trauma, misbehavior—they came to the ranch.  

It had started ages ago when Rowan’s great-grandfather came to own the land and took on the runaways who were escaping bad situations.  His great-grandparents accepted anyone who came by the ranch as their own and the attitude extended through the generations.  By the time Rowan’s father gained the land, things had turned to be more professional.  

The ranch used a mix of therapy modems and simple outreach to help those who needed it.  They offered day visits for schools, riding lessons, even month-long visits and stays for extreme cases.  It was careful water to tread sometimes.  Recently, Rowan had been more conscious about making sure the kids who came felt safe and wanted.  He never accepted anyone who was forced to come, unless he could talk to the kid first.  Even then, he knew that help only helped when someone actually wanted it.

But now as Rowan stared over the golden horizon, he wondered how anyone could turn a sight like this down.

He tightened Goldryn’s reins and clicked his tongue, directing the horse back to the stables.  It had been a long day of checkouts and clean up.  This late in the fall, most people only came by for tours or field trips.  Business wouldn’t pick back up until May at least.

For now, the ranch would rely on its usual borders.  There were a few families that owned horses but didn’t have the land to keep them, so Rowan rented out stalls and charged for care.  It kept him busy enough in the slower months.  Him and Lorcan, his best friend from college, made things work though.  It had taken a great deal of convincing to get Lorcan to come out here, but the grumpy bastard enjoyed being outside and this job presented plenty of opportunity.

It certainly helped that Lorcan had recently started dating Elide Lochan, who was a staple to the small town.  And Rowan had to admit—they were good together.

As he rode down a worn path along the paddock fence, Rowan could see a shape waiting for him in the distance.  He grimaced.  There was only one person that would be so intent on talking to him.

He slowed Goldryn to a trot, knowing he couldn’t avoid the inevitable.

Leaning against a fence post with her arms crossed and golden blonde hair hanging in loose curls was Aelin Galathynius.  Brilliant, beautiful, and a pain in his ass.  She had come to the ranch almost six months ago after graduating from a top university specializing in trauma.  She was exactly what he needed for what he was trying to accomplish here and exactly the right person to drive him insane.

Rowan pulled Goldryn to a stop at the fence gate and stared down at Aelin.  Her cold blue eyes stared right back up.  She’d long since traded her fancy clothes and high heels out for jeans and t-shirts.  She even wore a baseball cap on occasion.  And yet the change of close did nothing to diminish her looks.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.  She didn’t flinch when Goldryn stamped her feet with a loud snort.  Another thing Aelin had improved upon, not being jumpy around the animals.  Though, she did eye the mare with a bit of distrust.

“It’s outside of my office hours,” he replied.  “Try again tomorrow.”

Aelin scowled at him.  It was the same excuse she used on him when he needed to talk to her, he didn’t see why she should be so upset to have it thrown back in her face.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” she said.

“I know what I said.”  He adjusted his hold on the reins and shrugged. “It’s been a busy few days.”

He jumped off of Goldryn’s back, landing in the earth with a soft thump.  He could just as easily have Aelin open the gate for him, but he was convinced she would have tried to scratch his eyes out if he’d asked.  Keeping one hand in the reins, Rowan unlatched the gate and swung it open towards him.  Goldryn snorted again, huffing as she backed up a few feet to make room.  

Aelin too had taken a step back but she didn’t go far.  She was several inches shorter than he was, even in the boots she wore, but still taller than the average woman.  She had a lean, athletic build Rowan had seen put to good use.  When some of the kids got restless on their extended stays she would workout with them, go for runs, turn hay bales, the whole nine-yards.  She wasn’t weak by any means.

“What do you need, princess?” he asked as he led Goldryn through the gate, locking the paddock again behind him.  He kept himself between Aelin and the horse, mostly because he knew she still wasn’t comfortable around the larger animals and even he wasn’t that cruel.

Still, Aelin almost stalked off right then.  Rowan could see it in her eyes, the tilt of her chin.  It wouldn’t have surprised him if she had.  Hell, he’d never met anyone as stubborn as Aelin Galathynius.  Not even one of his horses had as much attitude.

But he knew she needed something and even though it killed her, she uncrossed her arms and kept pace with him as he set off toward the stables.

“Don’t call me that,” Aelin said flatly.  She flicked her hair over one shoulder as she kept her steps purposeful, even when she stepped in a small hole and nearly went careening forward.

Rowan tried to reach out and steady her as he kept Goldryn reined in, but Aelin waved him off.  She straightened herself out and got on even footing before she continued to scowl at the ground.  She’d always been like that too—refusing help and insisting she could manage things on her own.  She was damned near worse than Farasha.

“Easy,” he said.  He was talking to the horse, who was yanking on the reins a bit too hard.  Aelin of course would never miss an opportunity to glare at him.

It was a shame they hated each other; Rowan decided.  Because try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.  Between her blue eyes, the golden waves of hair, the mischievous tilt of her lips—he’d be a fool not to acknowledge it.  But Aelin was also impossibly stubborn.  She fought him on everything.  She was opinionated.  She was selfish.  She was—

“I want you to open up another week for kids to come and stay over Christmas and New Years,” Aelin said.  She adjusted the yellow and black flannel she wore, eyes straight forward.

She was going to drive him to an early grave.

It was Rowan’s turn to stumble as he spun to look at her. “You what?”

Goldryn snorted, pulling on the reins again.  Oh she was mad at him.  They were a few minutes late to dinner now and she knew it.  Damn horse.

“An extra week for kids to come stay over the holidays,” Aelin repeated.  She didn’t flinch from the way he turned his own glare on her, only kept walking with that insufferable tilt to her chin.

“Why?” he asked.

Christmas—any of the holidays this time of year really—always made for a quieter time on the ranch.  People were more content to stay at home and put off their problems a little longer.  It wasn’t until after that people realized how much they hated their circumstances.  Even then, they didn’t seek out his ranch for anything more than daily horse rides.  Nothing to actually problem solve.

“It’s a hard time of year for kids,” Aelin said.  

They reached the stables and she helped slide the great door open.  Immediately, the heating system blasted them with a warm gush of air accompanied by the scent of hay, manure, and feed.  It was a scent Rowan had grown used to and, strange as it was, he took comfort in.

Rowan handed Goldryn off to one of the stable hands who took the mare to her stall.  Turning to Aelin, Rowan crossed his arms over his chest, taking her in.  She had a fiery determination about her and he knew he wouldn’t be able to brush her off easily.

“Open up an extra week so these kids can have a safe place to come,” Aelin insisted. “There’s a program with the city—”

“Please, Aelin, I know what that means,” he said, already walking away.  She could trail him and make her case if it was so important. “I won’t actually get paid for the extra costs.  The city pretends to take care of all the funding but doesn’t actually give me what I need.”

“I’ll take care of it all,” Aelin said, indeed following right after him as he moved to the feed barrels.  She even managed to dodge the droppings from the lone pig that wandered the stables. “I’ll keep up the communications with the program.  I know the director, she’s not a flake.”

Rowan had heard things like this before.  Sellene had tried to get him to take state funding before too, all that resulted in was mounds of paperwork and audits.

He opened the feed barrels and started scooping portions into waiting buckets that would go to the various horse stalls.  Aelin took one of the buckets as soon as it was filled, her manicured fingers wrapping around the handle.  

“The Cavarre Foundation wants to help kids,” Aelin continued.  She grabbed another bucket. “They’ve already got a list of kids they can send over.”

“Then they can wait til after the holidays,” Rowan said.

He hefted his own buckets and went to the first stall.  A yearling named Quinn was already waiting for his feed.  His owners were aiming for the colt to be a stallion and show for congress.  Quinn had a bit too much attitude to take to that sort of training, he’d be better as a rodeo horse or in the fields, but Rowan wasn’t being paid for that commentary.

“Watch it buddy,” Rowan warned the colt as he opened the stall and eased toward the trough in the corner.  Quinn nickered and pranced a bit, but ultimately didn’t give him any issues.

Aelin waited outside the stall, the tension in her body obvious.  She should just go and catch up with him later.  He would have suggested it too if she didn’t immediately start talking again.

“What if their home lives aren’t the best?  These kids have been selected from a few of the foster homes in the area and recommended by psychiatrists that this would be a beneficial healing opportunity.”  Aelin dodged around a worker moving hay, this time landing one foot in a pile of pig dung.  She didn’t flinch. “Isn’t that what this ranch is about?”

No it wasn’t.

Rowan opened the door of Hessina’s stall.  The mare was pregnant, due in late February, and had to be the sweetest horse he actually owned.  Rowan offered her a nose rub that she eagerly accepted.

“Are you even listening to me?” Aelin asked as Rowan closed the stall again.

“Hard not to when you won’t shut up,” he muttered.  He couldn’t tell if she’d heard him or not--her scowl remained perfectly etched on her face and she betrayed nothing as she walked with him to the next two stalls.

It didn’t take long to get most of the horses fed and ensure they had plenty of water.  The night wasn’t set to get too cold, so they wouldn’t bring out the blankets.  The heating system worked well enough to keep things warm but not freezing and these horses were all conditioned and bred for the chilly winter weather as it was.

By the time Rowan was ready to head back to the main house it had almost darkened completely outside.  Another long day done only for it to continue tomorrow and the day after.  He’d only been officially running the ranch for five years and he was ready to be done with it.

After making sure everything was set for the night, and checking in with the shift leader, Rowan decided he could leave everything as it was.  Lorcan would be in tomorrow to do a once over.  As the lead stable manager, he oversaw the functioning of the workers and the horses.  He even did a bit of training on the horses.  Not that Lorcan would ever admit to doing so.  

“You still here?” Rowan said to Aelin as he headed back to the cold night.  It was a twenty-minute walk, but the weather had been decent enough that he hadn’t wanted to bother with his car. 

“You never gave me an answer,” she said.

They walked across the long drive that led straight to the main house.  The road wasn’t paved, only gravel packed dirt that wound it’s way around the property.  When kids were staying in the cabins, Aelin had a room designated for her in the house, but she usually just went back into town where she rented an apartment.  As far as he knew, she was still planning on leaving when they reached her car.

“I already told you no,” he said.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make; opening the ranch up for a week.  Especially over the holidays.  He knew that Lorcan didn’t care about this time of year and there were a few ranch hands that wouldn’t mind the extra time to work.  But if the city program never paid him, he could never pay for the extra work.  And while he knew he could handle the work on his own if necessary…well, Rowan just didn’t see the point of approving this.

“It’s a lot to take on without much warning,” he added, before Aelin could rise up in a defensive retort. “Give me a day, alright?”

They finally reached the main house with its large wrap-around porch, the whitewashed wood, and three-story windows.  His cousin was probably inside already cooking up a meal that she’d filmed for her Instagram page.  It was the kind of house for a family, for someone with more to their name than Rowan did.  Sometimes he really hated coming home.

Aelin car, a small two-door Audi, waited from where she’d parked it that morning.  Rowan would be very interested to know how she planned on getting around once the snow started.

“I’ll take on any extra work you need,” she said, “cooking, cleaning, I’ll care for horses—”

“You hate the horses,” he said.

Her mouth twisted to the side. “I’ll do what I need to do.  Please, Rowan.  I think this would be a really good opportunity.”

Rowan didn’t know what surprised him more: the fact that she said please or used his first name.  He made the mistake of meeting her gaze, the gold undertones of the blue bright in the porch lights.  Shaking his head, Rowan muttered a curse.

“I’ll let you know in the morning,” he told her.

Aelin nodded once. “Thank-you.”

It was the most civil they’d been to each other in a long time.  Usually their exchanges ended in accusations, shouting, and name calling.  Aelin too seemed caught off guard by it.  She stepped back, digging for her keys in her pocket.  She nodded again before returning to her car.

Rowan remained outside as she made a quick U-turn in the large gravel drive.  She disappeared into the night quietly, the taillights soon lost as she curved down a bend in the road.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

Rowan already knew the answer he would have to give Aelin.  It was one he’d have to give his entire staff.  And he knew no one was going to like it.  Come new year he was going to sell the ranch to someone new.  And just like that the legacy his family had left him would be gone.

…

As she drove down the highway into town, Aelin found herself wringing the steering wheel of the car while imagining it was Rowan Whitethorn’s neck.  She knew, she knew, he was going to tell her no.  He would text her first thing in the morning and tell her that her request would be denied.  That the thing she actually cared about wouldn’t see the light of day.

He was a bastard.

She’d known it from the first day she’d met him so many months ago.  

It was her first full day in Oakwald, having left everything behind in Terrasen, and she was ready to start anew.  She’d expected things to be hard.  But she hadn’t expected Rowan Whitethorn to look at her with such contempt and tell her that she really had no business being there in the first place.  As if he hadn’t hired her just a week ago to fill a vacancy in his staff.

Not to mention the look he’d given her clothes, her car, everything about her was some big cosmic joke.  

Aelin sighed and turned off the highway to the bar where her one real friend worked.

Her little Audi was out of place among the trucks and SUVs.  She just needed to make it another two weeks without any bad weather and she’d have access to her new car.  Locking up, she hurried into the bar, already relishing the warmth awaiting.

In the span of one minute, the cold November air nearly sucked the life out of her.  The bar was a welcome reprieve as it was always kept at a decent heat.  Even with the scent of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, it had a comforting air about it.

Aelin went to the counter and slipped into a stool right next to Lorcan Salvaterre.

“Seriously?” he growled at her with a malicious side eye.

“It's the best of both worlds,” Aelin said with a cheeky smile. “You don’t like sharing your girlfriend, but she’s my best friend.  You still can talk to her and freely ignore me.”

Lorcan was not impressed by the explanation.  Back in the city, Aelin would have done everything in her power to avoid a man like him.  He was massive with long black hair and enough scars to indicate bad news.  His leather jacket strained with his broad shoulders and thick muscles.  And while Aelin would admit she had a thing for guys of a certain physique there was something dark about Lorcan that she couldn’t explain.  Which made it all the more surprising that he and Elide had started dating.

“Hey, Aelin!” Elide appeared from the swinging doors that led to the kitchen, carrying a tray of appetizers for another table.

“Hey!” Aelin called back.

Just a few months ago, Elide had told her about the confession she’d overheard where Lorcan admitted his feelings for her.  It had led to a heated kiss and a night that Elide said was the best of her life.  It was the only explanation Aelin needed or wanted.  She was glad her friend was happy, even if it was with Lorcan Salvaterre.

“Glad to see you’re still grumpy as ever,” Aelin told Lorcan.  She snagged a few pretzels in one of the many bowls set up along the bar.  She’d long gotten over her germ contamination worries.  

Lorcan grunted and sipped his beer.  Aelin rolled her eyes.

“You’re just like Whitethorn,” she said.

Another grunt.  Well, it was better than utter ignorance she supposed.

Elide appeared a minute later.  She leaned against the counter and raised a brow.

“Wow, you actually chose to sit next to Lorcan,” she said, “I’m proud of you.”

“I figured it would be better than making the old man upset that you would choose me over him to talk to,” Aelin explained.  “Besides, I think he’s warming up to me.”

Lorcan cut her a look that only had her grinning.

Elide snorted a laugh. “Yeah, besties the two of you.  What would you like to drink?”

“Just a coke,” Aelin said, “I should get home soon.”

“Coke and mozzarella sticks coming up,” Elide said with a wink.  She glanced at Lorcan. “Babe?”

Lorcan stared at his girlfriend for a long moment before registering what she said.  The corner of his mouth picked up in a smile and he shook his head.  

“Nah, I’m good.”

Elide only smiled fondly as she got Aelin her coke and went to put in an order for mozzarella sticks.

It was strange to Aelin just how enmeshed she’d gotten into this small town just in the past few months since arriving.  She never thought she’d find a place to belong more than in Terrasen, but there was something about Oakwald that she couldn’t deny enjoying.  It certainly helped that she and Elide had become such quick friends.  

But really, Aelin was glad to be out of Terrasen.  She needed a new start.  A new life.  Here, no one knew her history, her parents, anything beyond the fact that she was the new therapist on Whitethorn Ranch.  And she liked it that way.

Elide returned a minute later, her thick black hair piled in a new bun atop her head.  She often worked doubles all week long without much time for herself, let alone to date anyone.  But Aelin had learned a long time ago that Elide was as good as they came.  She worked hard, cared harder, and was one of the most genuine individuals she’d ever met.

“How was the ranch?” Elide asked.  She set another beer on the bar for Lorcan without his needing to ask for it.

“Good,” Aelin said, “it’s been slowing down.  But if Whitethorn wouldn’t be such an ass, it would pick up.  I pitched him my idea for the extra week over the holidays.  He’s just going to say no, though.” Beside her, Lorcan made a noise.  She shot him a glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, “it doesn’t matter.”

He looked up when the bar door opened and a few of his friends came in.  He rapped his knuckles on the counter before standing to go join them.

Aelin looked back to Elide. “How can you like him?”

“Because I do,” Elide said simply.  She leaned across the counter with a sigh. “I’m sure Rowan will approve your idea.  It’s a good one and he knows it’s what his ranch is for.  Take him the numbers and notes you came up with.  He can’t say no to concrete evidence.”

Aelin nodded absently.  When she’d come to Oakwald it had been in part to get away from Terrasen.  But it had also been a beckoning call from her cousin and his wife.

Lysandra Cavarre-Ashryver had been a close friend of Aelin’s for years when they’d grown up together in Terrasen.  They’d lost contact when Lysandra’s foster family took her across the country.  Aelin too had lost contact with her cousin after a series of messy family drama.  It was only after Aelin’s…accident a few years ago that they’d slowly reconnected.

And to be honest ever since talking with Lysandra and Aedion again, Aelin had slowly started feeling like herself.  It had only taken six years.

“I just…I really think it’s a good plan, especially for those kids,” she said.  This entire thing was the only thing keeping her afloat right now.  A job that gave her purpose, a chance to reunite with her cousin…it was better than being left with the reality of potentially going back to Terrasen.

Aelin shuddered at the thought and sipped her coke.  The carbonation danced on her tongue as she swallowed.

“He’s going to say yes,” Elide said.  She gave Aelin another look of assurance before going back to the kitchen to check on orders.

Aelin didn’t know what to think.  Elide had to be on her side, that’s what friends did.  But Elide was also not the kind to cling to false hope.

“Yeah,” she said to herself.  She had to believe that this would go right.  Because the alternative…well she didn’t want to think about that.

…

“What do you mean no?” Aelin asked.

She stared across the desk at Rowan who looked utterly passive as he sat in his chair, fingers steepled before him.

They were in the office of the main house where most of the “on paper” business of the ranch was taken care of.  Aelin had spent a bit of time here over the last several months.  Mostly to force Rowan to listen to her on a subject.  And just like all the other times before it was proving to be hostile and unproductive.

The office was simple in decoration with only a few framed pictures of Rowan’s dad, granddad, and great-granddad, a few knick-knacks on the shelves, and medals and certificates of recognition that the ranch had received over the years for various horses that had made nationals and other such things.

 Aelin didn’t like the room very much.  The rest of the house had a homey feel, but she believed that was because Sellene lived on site while she went to school at the local community college and hosted an online cooking show with Instagram.  It was Sellene that added the feminine touch to the main concourses.  Rowan hardly seemed like the domestic type.  If things were his way the entire house would be empty save for a display of guns.

“I mean no,” Rowan said.  He didn’t even look apologetic as he delivered the news.  “It’s too much work for the ranch in this season.  Most of the workers are already leaving until things pick up in the spring.  And if you can’t guarantee payment then I’m not putting in the risk.”

She pulled out the binder she’d curated with Lysandra and dropped it on the desk with a thunk.

“I have the costs and benefits listed, what the program will offer in payment before and after, they have releases all lined up, the programs director is willing to come down and help with whatever is needed supervision wise for the kids.”  Aelin flipped the binder open to the different graphs and spreadsheets. “If you’d just look it over.”

She was trying desperately to keep her voice even, to keep from shaking and revealing too much, but Aelin could feel a familiar sense of panic rising within her.  This was happening.  He was going to turn her down and she would be left with the solid evidence that she couldn’t even do something as simple as start a therapeutic program on her own.

“Aelin,” Rowan said.  He leaned across the desk and placed a hand on the open binder.  He didn’t even bother to look at the pages of carefully crafted data.  Instead, his stupid green eyes bore into her with what Aelin could only describe as pity.

The bastard was pitying her?

She slid the binder away from him, protective of it and all the work she’d put into its contents.  

“Fine,” she said.  She shouldn’t have been surprised.  In the last seven months of knowing him, he had always been cold and heartless. The kind of person that Aelin should have known better than getting into business with.  He wasn’t any better than—

“I have three conditions,” Rowan said suddenly.

Aelin snapped her eyes back to his.  He couldn’t really mean—

“First, you’ll be expected to pick up extra slack from the workers who already have approved time off for the holiday,” Rowan said, “and you’ll have to convince Lorcan to work over time.”

Aelin blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No strings attached?”

“Well, I doubt you’re going to get Lorcan to help.” Rowan shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He paused as if considering what his next words would be. “He doesn’t like helping people very much.”

“I know he doesn’t like me,” Aelin said, her body still thrumming with excitement. “No need to sugar coat it.  What was your third condition?”

Rowan adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “The program director needs to have at least a quarter of the payment to me by tomorrow afternoon.”

“She can have it to you by today,” Aelin said automatically.  She knew that just like her, Lysandra had been waiting for an opportunity like this to come along and had made sure she had sufficient funding all lined up.  Plus, there was Aedion who would go to hell and back if it meant getting Lysandra something she wanted.

Rowan didn’t seem convinced that her words held much weight but he only nodded. “Alright.  Then from the twenty third to January second you’re in charge.”

“Deal.  Done.”  Aelin agreed automatically.  She would have given him the twenty in her wallet and her library card if it would make a difference.  Which it should.  Her library card was worth gold.

Despite his agreement, displeasure was plain to see on Rowan’s face.  He still didn’t like this plan.  Well he could just suck it up.  By the time Aelin was through and was able to execute all the ideas she had—he would see.  This was going to be a brilliant idea, one that could easily become a new tradition for the ranch.

He held out a hand toward her and Aelin stared.  Did he want to shake on this?

“The binder,” he said, one silver brow raised.

Aelin felt a bit of heat rise in her cheeks, but she forced it back.  This binder was her baby.  Quite literally the thing that had pulled her through her master’s program, and hopefully to a doctorate.

“You’re going to be mean to her,” she said.

“It’s a binder.”

“It’s my child.”

Rowan’s lips parted in surprise.  Well, it wasn’t the first time she’d caught him off guard.  It was his turn to stare at her, those green eyes boring into her with such intensity Aelin would have thought he could actually see into her soul.

“I need to know what you’re going to put my ranch through,” he said.

Aelin pursed her lips.  She knew she’d have to relent, but handing over the binder felt like handing over a piece of her and she didn’t think she was ready for that.  Rowan’s hand still wanted expectantly and she glanced down at it.  His palm was upturned and she could see the roughhewn calluses on his fingers and knuckles.  His skin was clean though, the nails neatly trimmed and no dirt tucked in the nail beds.  She’d never quite realized just how big Rowan actually was, in all these months.  And here he was holding out a hand to her and all she could do was stare.

Like a maniac.

She dropped the binder into his hand.  He barely twitched.

“I’ll just wait to hear from your…friend?” he asked.

“Lysandra Cavarre,” Aelin said.  Technically Lysandra Ashryver, but Aelin really didn’t want to go into the complications of last names and what they meant.  She’d made it this far without any association to her past, she could keep it up a while longer.

“Lysandra,” Rowan repeated, committing the name to memory.  He nodded and accepted the binder onto his desk. “I’ll leave you to it then.  You’ve got a lot of work to do if you think Lorcan’s going to agree to this easily.”

“Oh, he’s even more of a bastard than you,” Aelin replied quickly.  She smiled as sweetly as she would if she were talking with someone she liked. “But I’m best friends with his girlfriend.”

With that, Aelin rose from her seat, collecting her bag as she went.  When she reached the door, she turned back and smiled again.

“You won’t regret this.”

Just as she was pulling the door of his office shut behind her, she could have sworn she heard the soft murmur: Mala save me.

Aelin smirked to herself as she walked back through the house.  If she was adding just a little bit of extra misery to Rowans day, she didn’t suppose that would be an issue.  The grumpy buzzard deserved it.

She passed the kitchen where Sellene was sitting at the counter, a pile of books for school in front of her.  Pausing, Aelin rerouted to just say hi to the Whitethorn cousin.

Sellene, a few years older than Aelin’s twenty-five, had always been a staple of the ranch.  Even when she was doing her schooling, she’d taken time off to help raise her younger brother Endymion after their parents passed, she was almost always at the ranch.  Now that Endymion had gone to his own college of choice, Sellene was now able to pursue her own desires.

“Hey, Sel,” Aelin greeted.  She went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle.

“Hey Aelin,” Sellene said. “Rowan giving you a hard time?”

“Has he always been so cranky?”  Aelin asked.  She sighed and leaned against the counter as she rested her elbows on the granite.  

Across from her, Sellene chuckled. “I guess you could say that.  Just be glad he likes you.”

“Please.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “He hates me.”

“If he hated you, do you think he’d keep you around?” Sellene raised a brow in question. “He’s an ass, but he knows you work hard.”

Aelin wasn’t so sure of that.  Really, she was convinced the only reason Rowan didn’t kick her off the ranch was because there were no other options for therapists to come out into the area.  It had only taken half a day for Rowan to call her in for an interview when she’d first applied.  The job offer came the next day.

“Whatever you say,” Aelin said. “You want to help me piss him off even more?”

Sellene sighed. “I would love to, unfortunately I am going to be headed out to visit Endymion during his break.  It’s harder for him to leave his job.”

Aelin shouldn’t have been surprised.  In the few months she’d been a part of the homestead she’d learned quickly that the Whitethorn cousins were a tight knit group.  Still, it would have been fun to pit Sellene against Rowan at least for a little bit.

“That’ll be fun,” she said.  “I’m sure he misses you.”

“Oh, I plan on embarrassing him to no end,” Sellene replied seriously. “He’s eighteen and thinks he’s the smartest person alive.  The boy’s gotta learn some humility.”

Aelin snorted a laugh.  Honestly, it was the same thing her own cousin would have said about her. 

Sellene shut down her computer sighed. “But I am going to miss this place.  It’s always the best being here during the holidays.  It’ll be weird not to see it all.”

It was a strange sentiment to share and Aelin didn’t quite know how to respond.  But she didn’t have time to ask about it.  It was already getting late in the day and she needed to call Elide to enlist her help.  And then tell Lysandra to send a deposit Rowan’s direction.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Aelin said, she’d have time to get more information from Sellene later.

“Yeah, good luck, Aelin,” Sellene said, smiling softly.

Aelin offered a wave before she hurried out of the house, phone in hand.  

It only rang once before Elide answered.

“Elide?” she asked. “I need your help.”

…

For some reason, Rowan had thought that Aelin wouldn’t succeed in meeting the three conditions he’d set out for her.  Because, really, how would she be able to convince Lorcan of all people to work over time?

He supposed this was his first lesson in not underestimating her because not half an hour after Aelin left his office the morning, he’d approved the project then he got a call from one Lysandra Cavarre asking for routing information that she could send money to.

By the end of the day, he’d gotten a text from Lorcan.

Your girlfriend’s a menace.

Rowan had stared at the message for entirely too long.

Not my girlfriend.

Lorcan’s brief response said more than anything else could: right.

The brief exchange caught Rowan off guard.  Not only for the fact that Lorcan didn’t insult Aelin, but the mere idea of calling her his girlfriend.  She was the bane of his existence.  In the entirety of her time on the ranch she’d demanded change, created chaos, and riled him up with all her little remarks.

Aelin Galathynius sought to drive him insane.  Even when he tried to return the favor, nothing he did seemed enough to deter her.  She only rose to the challenge.  He guessed he could respect her for that.

Three days after striking the deal with Aelin, Rowan woke early, as he usually did, and headed to the stables.  They still had two weeks of preparation before the holidays but there was still plenty to do.  

Rowan dressed quickly before heading to the kitchen where Sellene had left a smoothie and protein bar in the fridge for him.  When there were kids or other guests staying in the cabins, there was a bigger fanfare made for breakfast.  For now, this was usually what he got.  He’d much prefer making his own food, but he always appreciated the effort from Sellene.

He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl as well and headed out to his truck.  It was barely four-thirty in the morning but that was the life he’d set out for himself.  He’d barely made it down the deck stairs when he noticed the other car sitting in the drive next to his.

Aelin was leaning against the side of her tiny car, wearing a large flannel and jeans tucked into a pair of boots.  In her hands she held two thermoses.  

“What?” She called out to him. “Did you sleep in?”

Rowan crossed the yard toward her. “The sun isn’t even up.”

“Yeah, I hate it.” She took a long sip from one of the thermos’ before thrusting the other at him. “Here.  Black like your soul.”

Rowan stared at the thermos for a minute before he accepted it. “Thanks?”

The morning was dark, not even the horizon had started lighting, yet Rowan could still see the amusement playing in Aelin’s eyes as she watched him.  Her hair hung in a long braid over one shoulder, a few tendrils escaped around her temples.  She didn’t wear any makeup and still there was something so striking about the way she looked.

“It’s not poisoned,” she prompted.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a sip of the coffee.  It was strong and bitter, just as he liked.

“You said I’d need to help pick up the slack,” she said, following him as he walked to his truck. “So here I am.”

If he were being honest, Rowan was surprised.  Aelin had never stuck him as the type to do manual labor.  Or really work for that matter.  Her wealth and status had been obvious the first time he’d met her.  Then there was the car, the designer clothes, the manicures.  When he’d hired her, all he’d received were glowing referrals.  Another surprise.  Even now he was still trying to reconcile his initial impressions of her to who she really was.

“Here you are,” Rowan agreed.  He gave her another once over, unable to help but notice the curve of her hips beneath the open flannel.  Dammit.

Shaking his head, he unlocked the truck.  He could practically hear his mother yelling at him for not opening Aelin’s door for her, but his hands were full.  Besides, Aelin didn’t seem to notice.  She hopped up into the front seat.  Her movements were graceful and easy as though she’d done so a hundred times before.

Rowan settled into his own seat and started the truck up.  There was a small layer of frost on the windshield waiting for them.  His least favorite part of the day was waiting for the heater to get into gear and finally warm up.

“Are you always up so early?” Aelin asked suddenly.  She was huddled in her seat, staving off the chill which was the only thing about the early hour that seemed to be bothering her.

“Yeah,” Rowan said. “Unless Lorcan’s going to be in early.  But I told him to take the later shift until he comes in for your event.”

Aelin hummed at that as she took a long sip of her own coffee. “Interesting.  You should get more sleep.  It’s good for you.”

“I’m in the wrong business for that, princess,” he muttered.

“Don’t call me that,” Aelin said.  She cut him a glare, her lip curling slightly.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because.”  Another sip of her coffee.

Rowan said nothing and tried clearing the windshield.  It cleared well enough.  He at least wouldn’t be out on the open road, so a few skiffs of remaining ice weren’t the end of the world.  Putting the truck in gear, he backed up a bit before turning.

“Are you always such a morning person?” he asked as they headed down the long drive.

“Hell no.” Aelin made a face. “If I had it my way I wouldn’t get out of bed until noon.  This is my second round of coffee.  Do you have any idea how much I am not looking forward to today?  It’s going to be miserable.  The worst.  I hate mornings.”

She spoke with such vehemence that Rowan wondered if there really was a way for morning to be such a real entity for someone to hate.  It was also amusing, especially the way her nose crinkled in disgust.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” he said, clearing his throat. “You can’t hate that.”

“It’s pitch black and I can see my breath,” she deadpanned.  Sighing she adjusted in her seat. “C’mon, buzzard, you wouldn’t rather be in bed still?  All warm and snuggled up?”

“No,” he said.

Aelin chuckled in that nonsense sort of way she had. “Hmm, right.  Even you have to admit a lazy morning in is fun.  With the right company.”

Rowan stared staunchly forward.  Though, he could still see that insufferable grin of Aelin’s out of the corner of his eye. 

“Ignoring me now?” she pressed.

The sight of the stables had never been more glorious.

“No, you’re just impossible.”

“Thank-you.”

Rowan parked the truck in its usual spot and tried hard not to smile.  He settled with an eye roll.

“Let’s go buzzard,” Aelin said.  She threw the door open and hopped out of the truck. “Show me the ropes.”

If there was one thing Rowan knew to be true—it was going to be a long day.  Though as he clambered out of the truck himself, the thought didn’t seem as heavy as it once may have been.

…

In the end, the day wasn’t bad.  In fact, things ran far smoother than Rowan had been expecting.  He’d thought that by having Aelin shadowing him things would go a lot slower and he’d have trouble getting everything done, but she was a ready student.

She handled feed buckets with ease, tied perfect knots on the first try, she even mucked stalls without complaint.  If Rowan didn’t know any better, he’d have said she’d spent time in a barn before.  A lot of time.  She seemed to know her way around the equipment, knew the terms, and sometimes reacted before he even needed to give instruction.

When he tried to ask her about it, she told him he was insane.  

It wasn’t the first time someone had lied to him, but he figured it wasn’t worth trying to needle the information out of her.

The routine continued for the rest of the week.  Aelin would be at the ranch first thing in the morning with coffee and they’d work all day together until dinner when they’d return to the main house.  

“You know you still have a room in the house, right?” Rowan asked one morning. “You don’t have to do this back and forth.”

“Oh,” Aelin looked out her window as they passed familiar pastures. “I guess…I figured you wouldn’t want me there?  Sellene’s gone and all, why not have the place to yourself?”

It was true, Rowan often enjoyed his time alone unless he went into town to have a drink with Lorcan, Fenrys, and Connall.  A recluse, Aelin had called him on occasion.

The strange thing about it was…Rowan didn’t think he would have minded Aelin being around more.  She drove him mad, more often than not, but even in the last few weeks (days really) there had been a subtle shift.  One that he didn’t know how to identify.

“Your friend is coming with the new group of kids, right?” Shifting the conversation seemed the safer option so he didn’t hesitate.

“She and her husband,” Aelin agreed, he didn’t miss the look she gave him. “They were planning on staying at the house, if that’s still alright?”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of space,” Rowan said.  The house was enormous with five separate rooms and four bathrooms.  His great-grandfather had always wanted a home to welcome as many guests as possible so new additions were added on continuously in the early years.  His own parents had hoped to keep the house full of children.  In the end, it was only Rowan who waged war upon the floorboards.

Aelin nodded absently, her fingers drumming on her thermos absently. “I’ll come up with them and stay the week before and during.”

“Alright,” Rowan said.  The drive to the stables that morning was the same as ever with only another light dusting of snow falling from the sky.  As late December encroached, it wouldn’t surprise him if they were due for a storm.

“They’ll be coming tomorrow, I think,” Aelin said, “Lys and Aedion.”

Rowan started. “Aedion Ashryver?”

In her seat, Aelin visibly flinched.  She covered it almost seamlessly as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sat up a little straighter.

“He’s an ass,” Aelin told him. “Though, very good looking.”

Rowan could only stare.  The Ashryvers were practically celebrities in the world of horses and ranch work.  Evalin and her sister Andra made waves when they were young for their work in showing horses, not just in contemporary riding, but racing, and rodeo.  They’d set a standard for those that would come after as they changed the equestrian world for years to come.

He didn’t know much of what had happened to either woman after they’d aged out.  Only that they continued to run a ranch out in the countryside of Terrasen for breeding and training.  He knew there had been a scandal of some sort five or six years ago involving a rider and a trainer, but the story evaded him.

When they got to the stables, Lorcan’s own truck was already there and he’d turned on the floodlights to help beckon in the rising dawn.  They were still a week out from when the Christmas group of kids would come, so Lorcan shouldn’t have even been there.

Rowan glanced at Aelin who didn’t seem the least bit surprised at the sight.

“How did you get him to agree to this?” Rowan asked.

“I can be very convincing,” Aelin replied simply. “And Elide.”

Not sure he wanted to know the full details in that, Rowan let the rest of the conversation drop.

As always, Lorcan remained in his quiet way.  He went about his usual duties without comment, only nodding in acknowledgment as Rowan and Aelin entered the stables.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?” Rowan asked.  He rested his keys on the rack beside the doors, not yet ready to take off his coat to the morning chill.

“Couldn’t,” Lorcan replied with a shrug.  He nodded to Aelin. “Regretting your choices yet?”

“Nope.”  Aelin smiled brightly.  She took a long sip of her coffee and went to the row of shelves reserved for personal items.  

Lorcan shot Rowan a look that he ignored.  They’d had plenty of conversations about Aelin and the week she had planned for the holiday.  Besides, if Lorcan couldn’t say no to Aelin (even if Elide wasn’t a factor) they were both idiots.

Knowing better than to try and tease Lorcan about how quickly he’d fallen for Elide, he crossed the stables to where his friend was working on preparing some equipment.

“What’ve you already taken care of?” He and Aelin had gotten a slightly late start for the day--a mix of him waking up late and the frost and Aelin needing to steal breakfast from him. 

“Not much,” Lorcan admitted, “everything’s pretty much good.  The vet’s coming around for check-ups this afternoon.”

“Do you know how the cabins are looking?”

Lorcan shrugged. “Probably about the same as when the last group left.”

That shouldn’t have surprised him. “We’ll go take a look then come back to help prep for the vet visit.”

“Sure,” Lorcan said.  He glanced to where Aelin was kneeling before the ranch pig, dubbed Ex because it had been Endymion’s turn to pick a name.  The finalists of names fell between Frank and Excali-wilbur and Endymion did not disappoint.  “Have you told her yet?”

Rowan scowled. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure,” Lorcan said, scraping off a bit of dirt from an old bridle set. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The words sat heavy with Rowan the rest of the day.  He knew that Lorcan just liked screwing with him on occasion.  But there was also a part of him that worried if there was truth to Lorcan’s ominous words.  He really didn’t see what it mattered though--whether he was going to sell the ranch or not was his own business.

He really didn’t see what the difference was if he continued to owned the ranch or not.  Sellene and Endymion hadn’t expressed any in taking the land over for themselves and they were the only living relatives Rowan knew about.  Theirs were the only opinions that mattered.

Still, by the time he and Aelin finished getting the cabins ready for the guests in the coming weeks, he couldn’t help but feel a niggling sense of guilt.  He kept tamping it down of course.

It wasn’t until mid-day that the vet came around that Rowan was finally able to turn his thoughts in different directions.  They had two pregnant mares in the stables that year which was the biggest concern Rowan had.  They’d both foaled before but there was still plenty of room for things to go wrong.  Besides them, there were six other horses to be looked over.  It was usually a two-day affair, especially when weather got a little dodgy, but the vet seemed confident they’d finish up by the end of the day.

While the vet was in with Farasha, Rowan realized he hadn’t seen Aelin for a bit.  He might have had his misgivings about her, but she’d proven herself to be responsible and attentive in all her recent duties.  Even if she didn’t like horses.

Rowan glanced around the main floor of the stables before heading to the back stalls where the two pregnant mare’s were settled.  It was the warmest part of the large barn with the largest stalls.  His boots scuffed in a bit of hay as he went and he almost missed the soft voice talking to the horses.

Diana and Hessina, thankfully got along alright.  Sometimes pregnant mares could get a little feisty with each other, but the two had been inseparable when they’d been born the same season almost six years ago now.  Rowan remembered the day.

He stopped just outside Hessina’s stall and what he saw made him question just about everything he thought he knew.

Standing in Hessina’s stall with a set of brushes and other items was Aelin.  She carefully ran a curry brush over Hessina’s coat in methodic movements.  All the while she continued to talk softly to the mare.

“Alright, mama,” Aelin said, “let’s get you cleaned up.  You deserve it don’t you?  Especially before baby gets here, huh?  Look at you so pretty standing here for me.”

For a minute, Rowan thought he’d wandered into an alternate reality.  In all the months of her being on the ranch, Aelin had never approached one of the horses so willingly.  She’d kept her distance from the barn and the animals beside the pig and the goats.  He’d never have expected her to spend time with any of the horses, let alone grooming them.  And doing so with obvious practice and ease.

“I thought you hated horses?” he found himself saying.

Aelin froze.  It was the first time he’d ever caught her off guard.

“I never said that,” she replied.  She traded out brushes and ran a shedding blade over Hessina next. 

“You’ve never spent more than a minute with any of the horses in all the time you’ve been here,” Rowan said.

He entered the stall and grabbed a brush to use on Hessina’s mane.  Somehow, no matter what he or any of the stable hands tried, the long hair always got tangled even if they were careful to brush it the day before.

“That doesn’t mean I hate them,” Aelin said.  Her voice was soft, lilting in that way she’d used when she was addressing Hessina specifically. “Not when they’re such pretty girls.”

Her long fingers ran over Hessina’s sides, pausing over the swell of the mare’s belly.  It seemed as though she knew exactly how to handle a horse.  Or at least where to massage a pregnant mare’s muscles effectively or how to run a flat brush over the coat to leave it gleaming.  Truth be told, he’d never seen Hessina looked as relaxed as she did now under Aelin’s ministrations.  No matter what Aelin said, she was a natural.

Rowan tugged at Hessina’s mane with as much care as he could.  But he noted the twitch of her ears.

“Sorry,” he murmured, knowing he’d pulled too hard.  He glanced back to Aelin. “Seriously, you’ve never spent this much time with the horses before.  You know how to care for them.  And you can make a decent knot.  I thought you were a city girl?”

Aelin shrugged, walking to Hessina’s other side. “I am a city girl.”

“No.” Rowan shook his head. “There’s more to you than that.”

They stood across from each other now, more or less.  And Aelin wouldn’t meet his gaze as she brushed out Hessina’s other side.  Her lips thinned and Rowan knew she was thinking deeply on something.  

“I used to read all the horse books I could,” she finally said, “made my mom buy them all for me.  I had a whole bookshelf devoted to them.  And then I grew up.”

Her hands paused, fingers grazing over a few stray bits of Hessina’s mane.  A stray thought took her mind far away from that place.  Far enough that she stopped brushing entirely.  Hessina took offense to that and nickered, dipping her head back towards Aelin.

Chuckling, Aelin reached out and scratched the mare’s nose before she continued brushing.

“What about you, Whitethorn,” she asked, blue eyes sparking with delight as she finally looked at him. “Were you always in a horse boy phase or did it come suddenly?”

He rolled his eyes. “I grew up on this ranch, it’s all I know.”

Aelin paused at his words.  She looked as though she wanted to something, but the words were lost on her.  Instead, she shook her head and nodded at his work.

“You’re making that worse, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said defensively.

No matter what he said though, Aelin came over to take a look at the work he was doing on the mane.

“A girl’s pride is in her hair,” she said, whether to him or Hessina, Rowan had no idea.  

He could only watch as Aelin took over detangling and brushing.  Her hands were soft as she tugged and brushed.  Occasionally she would murmur something and give the mare an affectionate pat on the neck.

What he didn’t notice was how close he and Aelin were standing, not at first.  But the second he realized it; it was all he could think about.  He could feel the warmth radiating off of her and he could still smell the lemon verbena of her shampoo in her hair.  Even with the bit of sweat and dirt that lingered on her skin.

There was something about watching the methodical way she worked that was mesmerizing.  Nothing seemed to frustrate her as she went even when something didn’t detangle immediately or if she had to make a bigger mess in order to get things right.  She would only hum under her breath and continue.

“Do you—” she began to speak and spun almost directly into him.  She made a small noise of surprise and stumbled just a bit before Rowan reached out to steady her.  “Hell.  Sorry.”

She blinked up at him with those bright blue eyes and he noticed a ring of gold around the pupils adding to that light that always seemed to illuminate her.

Gripping her arms, he waited until she regained her footing before slowly pulling away.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded; mouth parted slightly as though she were about to say something.

The illusion shattered when Lorcan called out from the main stable.

“Whitethorn, get out here!”

It was probably better that way—for Rowan to leave Aelin there.  She turned back to Hessina and kept talking with those soft words and gentle inflections.  Whatever spell had been over them was long gone.  Though that was for the better.  Rowan didn’t need to get close to Aelin.  Not now.

So, he tried to forget about the last ten minutes and went to help Lorcan with whatever it was he needed.

…

When she was eighteen, Aelin had her first serious crush.

It was different than all the other little sparks she’d ever gotten before.  It was different, new, and completely reckless.  Oh, she’d never acted on it, not exactly.  And maybe it was better that way.  Because in the coming year (and several years after) Aelin would come to realize that boys, men, would never treat her well.  Especially not the ones that had country written into their bones.

So when she came to Whitethorn ranch at the beginning of the summer, she’d told herself it was for the experience.  It was for the work she loved.  It was for the kids who needed help.

And then there was Rowan.

They’d clashed the entirety of their working relationship and Aelin really didn’t know how she’d lasted as long as she did.  And here she was now, on the brink December and the New Year right around the corner.  

She sighed and straightened the small room designated for her at the main house.  Rowan had let her off for the two days leading up to the main camp days when Lysandra and Aedion would be arriving.  

The room was the next biggest aside from the master suite that Rowan slept in.  With its own bathroom and the large window that overlooked the back western side of the ranch with the mountains in the distance—Aelin loved it.

It was already decorated with a few things of the Whitethorn family.  A few black and white photos from the early days, hand embroidery frames, and a few porcelain figures in the inlaid shelving.  It was simple and homey and for whatever reason, Aelin didn’t feel the need to change anything.  Except for the piles of books and a few pictures of her own family.

As she straightened things up, and prepared the bedroom across the hall for Lys and Aedion, she couldn’t help but think of the last few days with Rowan.

She didn’t know how it was possible, but they hadn’t killed each other.  There weren’t even any attempts.  Sure, their words held just as many barbs as before, but it felt different.  Or maybe she was just hoping there was something different.  

For as much as she complained about how small Oakwald was and how difficult working on the ranch and the therapy work here was--she wanted to make this home.  She wanted this to be a place she could put down roots.  Here, no one knew her past.  No one knew who her family was.  No one knew every little detail about who she was other than simple being Aelin.

Her phone started ringing at the same time a series of honks echoed from the front of the house.  Grinning, Aelin answered the phone already knowing who was on the other line.

“Are you here?” she demanded.

“Bitch, what do you think?” Lysandra said on the other line.  In the background Aelin could hear Aedion: stop honking the horn, Lys.  She knows.

“I’ll be down in a second,” Aelin chuckled.

She flew from her room and down the stairs of the house.  She barely bothered with the slippers waiting by the front door before she threw the front door open.

The SUV hadn’t even come to a full stop before the passenger door opened and Lysandra got out.  Her long dark hair hung loose and she wore a simple gray sweater and jeans.  She screamed when she saw Aelin and ran across the yard toward her.

Aelin met her halfway, pulling her friend into a hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Lysandra was saying as she continued to hug Aelin. “It’s been so boring without you.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone with Aedion,” Aelin teased.  She pulled back, grinning.

Aedion huffed as he came around the SUV.  His blond hair, so similar to Aelin’s, long enough to just barely fit into a low tie, his handsome features slightly distorted with a scowl.

“I love you too, Aelin,” he said, trying and failing to hold his disapproving look.

Aelin launched herself at her cousin.  It had been a while since they’d seen each other between work and distance.  But she was grateful he had chosen to come and help both her and Lys.

“You do love me,” she insisted, “I introduced you to your wife, after all.”

Aedion pulled back with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, I’m forever in your debt.”

“I know,” Aelin said seriously.  She then turned and linked arms with Lysandra. “C’mon, I’ve got a room ready for you.”

Her friend didn’t immediately follow through, instead turning in the cold morning air, taking in the sweeping blue skies and acres and acres of land surrounding them.

“Seriously, Aelin, where are we?  This feels like a step out of time.”

She’d thought the same thing when first arriving. “It’s better in summer and you're not freezing your butt off.”

Indeed, during the winter the sun could be out and bright and happy like it was now, but it was still cold enough to want to literally crawl into a fireplace and never come back out like some sort of dragon.  

Aedion offered to get the bags, letting Aelin and Lysandra head up to the house.

“So,” Lysandra said as they went to the kitchen. “Where’s Rowan?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “He’s at the stables finishing things up.”

“But he’ll be here later?” Lysandra pressed; one brow raised.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been sleeping under the same roof and nothing’s happened?” Lysandra scoffed and accepted a proffered glass of water.

“Please, Lys, he’s my boss.  And an ass.” Aelin turned to find snacks or something else to offer while her cheeks flushed at Lysandra’s words.

“Mm-hm,” Lysandra hummed with obvious doubt.  “I’ve looked him up, he’s hot.”

“Lysandra!” Aelin spun on her friend who let out a cackle. 

“You should see your face,” Lysandra laughed. “You know I’m right.”

“He’s made my life miserable,” Aelin said, “and, like I said, he’s an ass.”

“Right.”  Lysandra merely sipped her water and sighed. “You keep saying that.”

Much to Aelin’s appreciation, Aedion entered the house, bags in hand.  She left Lysandra in the kitchen and showed Aedion to the room she’d set up for the two of them.  It was the one room just a little more isolated than the others, but that just made it feel a little cozier.  Which she didn’t think they’d mind.

From there, the rest of the day was relatively nice.  Even with Lysandra’s continued teasing about Rowan.  Thankfully, she kept most of it up when Aedion wasn’t around.

Aelin gave them a tour of the house and immediate grounds before heading out to the cabins reserved for the kids that would be arriving in the next several days.

She and Lysandra were able to go over the various activities and group sessions and plan out where each would take place and how transport would work.  Thankfully, the main house was a good central point and should the weather stay nice, walking wouldn’t be an issue.

“There’s supposed to be a storm,” Aelin said at one point, “but they’ve been saying it would happen for two weeks now, and nothing.  I think it’ll just hit Denver and move on.”

That was the hope.  But Aelin wouldn’t let herself worry about a snow storm right now.  They had a contingency plan in place, but the weather had been cooperating thus far that she doubted it would be an issue.

Later that night as they were fixing dinner, Aedion broke out his excellent cooking skills with a chicken and vegetable skillet, Rowan finally returned home. 

“Welcome back, Buzzard!” Aelin called when she heard the door open and shut.  She also heard the way he paused while trying to decide if he could get out of being social. “We just made dinner, come join us.”

Lysandra shot her a look, but Aelin ignored it.  Instead, she got an extra plate ready as Rowan slowly trudged into the kitchen.

“This is Lysandra and Aedion,” Aelin said, “Lys founded the group that we’re hosting next week.  And her husband, Aedion, is the muscle.”

She didn’t know why she didn’t mention that Aedion was her cousin, but the admission just felt off.  Aelin had spent so long distancing herself from her mother’s name and the attention that it got that it just felt natural not to bring it up.  Besides, that wasn’t the point of this visit or the event they’d worked so hard on.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rowan said, he didn’t smile, but Aelin supposed him joining them all for dinner was good enough.

“We’re just running through the week,” Aelin said.  She handed him his plate which he accepted. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about with the itinerary I gave you?”

Rowan didn’t answer immediately.  He settled in his seat next to her and took a bite of his food, thinking.  Or just avoiding talking.

“Nah,” he said after a minute. “Everything looks fine.  There’s going to be ten kids in total?”

“Maybe eight,” Lysandra spoke up, “it’s a little hard to get exact numbers right now.  Some kids are being shuffled so close to the holidays and their guardians are being…difficult.” She made a disgruntled sort of face. “But I know for sure eight of them are ready to go.  The other two we’re waiting on some consent forms.”

It wasn’t anything surprising to Aelin. But they would make the best of it and hopefully all the kids they’d planned for would come.

“There’s plenty of room no matter who chooses to come,” Rowan said, “so that’s not a problem.”

“You said you’re not going to be around on the Friday after Christmas though, right?” Aelin asked.  He hadn’t told her why or what he was doing, just that there was business on the ranch that needed taking care of.  She thought better than asking for more details especially when he was so guarded about the affair in general.

Rowan paused for a heartbeat in his ravenous eating and Aelin almost wouldn’t have noticed if not for the way his eyes skirted to hers and dipped away just as quickly.

“I’ve got a meeting planned most of the day,” he said, “but if anything goes wrong—”

“They’ll be fine.” Aedion spoke up with a wave of his hand. “If there’s anyone who knows how to embrace chaos to her advantage it’s Aelin.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, passing the water pitcher around the table. “I stole my dad’s truck once and it worked out fine.”

“I’m talking about the time you set off all those fireworks and nearly set the house on fire, but thanks for proving my point.”  Aedion grinned at her glare.

Rowan only shook his head from beside her. “What the hell kind of childhood did you have?”

“Normal, perfectly normal.” Aelin said.  Desperate to keep the conversation moving and away from any revelation of how she and Aedion were related, she kept talking.  “Besides, none of that will be happening this week.  I didn’t have time to find any fireworks.”

“Please,” Lysandra said, “you don’t even try not to cause problems.  Remember in college you stole that frats keg?”

“Because Archer Finn plagiarized my report on Edgar Allen--you know, he was an ass that’s all that matters.” Aelin had done a lot of questionable things in the name of justice.  But stealing that keg was damn near the top of the list considering the fact she nabbed it in the middle of the biggest party of the semester.  Truly remarkable. “So it was less of a problem and more karma calling his name.”

“So,” Rowan said, glancing over at her, “you really have been a menace all these years?”

She should have been affronted by his teasing but with the way he was actually smiling with amusement burning in his eyes and the levity of the night—Aelin found she couldn’t be mad.  Because here, for this small moment, Aelin wasn’t scared about what the future might hold.

…

Despite the teasing of her cousin and Lysandra, Aelin really did exist best in chaos.  She wasn’t at all intimidated when the week officially started for the outreach program.  She didn’t even have panicked stress dreams about it either.  Everything had been planned out in detail.  It was going to be a success.

And everything her friends had done to help make it possible just warmed Aelin all the more.  Between all that Lysandra and Aedion did on their end, to Elide volunteering her days when she wasn’t needed at the bar, and Lorcan willfully helping out (through whatever bribery Elide had offered), everything started off without a hitch.

The thing about therapy that Aelin loved the most was the breakthroughs.  The understanding that came with trauma and healing.  It was often a long hard journey, but it happened.  And when you worked with kids?  It made the work all the better.

The week wouldn’t be focused on the talk therapy of it all though.  Mostly they’d be going on hikes, cooking in the main house, learning about the horses and caring for them, and then a little of the therapy side.  This week was about feeling safe and finding joy in an otherwise hard spot of life and Aelin was determined to help offer that bit of peace.

After all the kids arrived, twelve total and ranging from twelve to seventeen years old, everything continued as expected.  The kids were paired off closer to their ages into the two different cabins and it all seemed to be working for the best.

Aelin found that two of the younger kids, Evangeline and Luca, were the more hesitant of being there.  Despite Luca’s outgoing nature, Aelin could tell there was a bit of worry in his attitude as he always seemed to look to her for approval in any of the activities they did.  Evangeline always sidled over to Lysandra.  It wasn’t a strange occurrence, just one they needed to be careful with.

Though, if Aelin knew Lysandra like she did, her friend had done work with Evangeline before and was fiercely protective of her now.  

“How many s’mores can these kids eat?” Rowan asked one night.

They were having an outdoor campfire with s’mores and other treats while Elide of all people told scary stories.

“Sugar is an essential food group, buzzard,” Aelin reminded him, “especially for teens.”

They stood just a bit away from the fire pit outside two of the cabins, just far enough away to not be distracting.  It was Thursday meaning the week would officially finish out on Monday and the ranch would be able to return to its usual winter hours and day to day functions.  Aelin was a little upset by the idea, but she was sure Rowan was as giddy as he could be over the prospect.

“I thought that was just you,” Rowan said.

Aelin kicked him with the toe of her boot.  If her hands hadn’t been stuffed into the pockets of her coat, she might have flipped him off.

“Ha, ha,” she said. 

“Seriously,” Rowan continued, “I’ve seen the stash you think you’re hiding in the kitchen.”

“Chocolate is good for the soul,” Aelin sniffed, “and I recommend the occasional indulgence as a therapist.”

Rowan shook his head, looking out over the fields behind them.  A ghost of a smile fell across his lips and even in the flickering shadows of the fire, Aelin thought it was the most beautiful sight.

“Occasional indulgence, sure,” he murmured. 

“We can’t all love kale as much as you do,” Aelin said.  She’d seen what he came home with from the store.  Kale and zucchini and any myriad of health foods.

He only smiled at her and Aelin felt it like a punch to the gut.  She had no idea what had happened in the last few weeks, but somewhere along the way the loathing had simmered away to…appreciation?  Admiration?  Whatever the feeling was, she didn’t know where it came from, but it was here all the same.

“Thank-you for agreeing to this Rowan,” she said, before she could lose her nerve. “For agreeing to let us host this week and letting these kids come here.  I know it’s not the most convenient thing.  But I know it means a lot to them.”

And me, she added silently.

His smile fell just a touch. “Aelin—”

Whatever else he was about to say was swallowed up by Lysandra announcing it was time to head off to bed.  The quiet contentment of the night disbanded as the kids all voiced their complaints and pleads for another story.  Apparently Elide’s tales about bloodthirsty witches were all the rage.

But it was well nearing eleven and they’d all been up late enough as it was and Aelin herself was exhausted.  They rounded everybody up and had them filter off to their cabins.  Elide and Lorcan would serve as chaperones that night, giving Lysandra and Aedion a break.

Hopefully it would put a stop to a small issue growing between Luca and one of the other boys, Aelin didn’t know all the details as Luca refused to talk further about it, but she was worried nonetheless.  And even if she wasn’t sure about the idea of Lorcan as a chaperone, Rowan assured her that he was surprisingly good with kids.  Aelin decided she would trust Rowan on that front, and let the issue slide.  For now.

…

Friday dawned dark and chilly.  The sky was full of gray clouds that stretched as far as the eye could see.  It made Aelin feel boxed in even if there was still just as much open air as before.  But those clouds hung low and didn’t budge.

She tried to not let it bother her, it was bound to happen eventually.  And in this area the weather was always changing.  By the afternoon there would be a break in the clouds and the sun would return.  Or else they’d just get a light skiff of snow.

The day was being treated as a small rest day, of sorts.  The kids had helped cook breakfast for everyone, played a few games outside, and they were now headed out to the stables to help build a shed for the goats.  

It was less of build and more of a supervision.  If the kids wanted to help they could, if not, Aelin had it on good authority the goats enjoyed chasing people as a game.  Plus, one of the stable hands that had volunteered to help out was a master sling-shot expert and could take the kids to the side of the barn to practice their skills (on non-living targets).  

They got to the stables just after lunch and clean-up.  This was going to fill most of the rest of the day and then lead into a few individual sessions with the kids.  No one had mentioned that it was Christmas or anything of the sort and none of the kids seemed to be having any major issues.  But Aelin wanted to have a chance to talk with them and see if this week had helped them at all.  From what she could tell it hadn’t done any irreparable damage, but kids could be excellent at masking their emotions if they really wanted to.

As the building commenced, Aelin took note of Rowan’s truck outside the stables in its usual spot.  Beside it was another car, a Tesla of all things.  She’d thought Rowan was supposed to be in a business meeting, not at the stables.

She made sure the kids were all occupied doing what they were supposed to, or at least just having fun, before she walked over to where Lorcan was exchanging water for one of the troughs.

“Is Rowan here today?” she asked without preamble.

Lorcan raised a brow and leaned against the fence, balancing the empty blue water barrel beside him.  “What?”

“Rowan,” she said, gesturing to his truck. “I didn’t think he would be on the property today.”

Looking away from her, Lorcan ran a hand over his jaw.  It was obvious he was trying to decide what to say exactly and that made trepidation rise in Aelin’s throat.

“He’s here, I can’t tell you more than that though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Lorcan said, pushing off of the fence, “that you can talk to Rowan about it.”

He walked away then, leaving Aelin to mull over the words that she already didn’t like.  She watched him trek back to the stables and a part of her expected to see Rowan walking out as though waiting for that exact moment.

It was foolish, she knew.  Whatever worry was gnawing at her gut was unfounded and she didn’t need to get caught up on this.

Aelin forced herself back to where the kids were helping out with nails and plywood, a few had wandered off to stack crates together which the goats started climbing on with ease.  She came to a stop beside Lysandra, stuffing her hands into her coat against another stiff breeze.  The air smelled cold, if that could even be a scent.  But she didn’t know how else to describe that stiff, clean sterility.

“What’s up?” Lysandra asked, leaning into her.

“Nothing,” Aelin replied, glancing one more time at the stables.  “Nothing, it’s fine.”

Lysandra didn’t look convinced.  She remained quiet though as she returned her attention out to the paddock of goats and kids.

Aelin did her best to try and pay attention to the kids and offer encouragement and commentary where needed, but her mind was elsewhere.  Which, she knew was stupid.  She shouldn’t be thinking about Rowan and what was going on with him and his “business meeting” if that’s what was really going on.  And she shouldn’t even care whether or not it was for business.  Right?

A part of her did care though.  A part of her wondered what his meeting was about and why he hadn’t gone into detail about it with her.  She knew they weren’t technically business partners, but she did a lot of work for him all the same.  And the things that she did were specific to the business and therapy modem that Whitethorn ranch was known for.  Shouldn’t she be at least a little involved?

Half an hour later, Aelin had almost completely distracted herself until she heard the sound of Rowan’s low voice.  She spun towards it, already knowing what she would say to him.  But the second she turned it wasn’t Rowan that caught her attention.  It was the well-dressed man walking beside him.

Aelin felt her entire body seize up as a cold numbness swept through her.  Static crackled in her ears and her mouth went dry.

Because there beside Rowan was the man who had ruined Aelin’s life.

With auburn hair hanging loose around his face and gray suit that never seemed to wrinkle or stain--Arobynn Hamel looked the same as the day Aelin last saw him.  She still hadn’t been released from the hospital after the accident, still unsure if she’d be able to walk again, and still unsure what her life would look like.  But she’d held on to hope.  She’d held on long enough for him to come and place blame directly on her shoulders before sauntering away as though he couldn’t have cared less about what happened to her.

She’d been nineteen then.  Nineteen and convinced that he was supposed to be the answer to all her problems.  That was the thing about glorifying people when you were a kid, you never understood just what a dangerous game that was.

She tried reaching out for Lysandra, but her friend had entered the goat paddock to help hold a few boards in place.  She was alone.  Alone and watching the second Arobynn saw her.  He immediately made a b-line towards her.

“Well, well,” Arobynn said as he approached.  Just as he’d always been, he had that cold arrogance about him.  It was the same sort of swagger than everyone in their circles had.  The kind of money and stature, that he was better than everyone else around him.  He had to be in his mid-thirties now.  Though, he didn’t look it.  He was just as handsome as ever. “Aelin.  What a pleasant surprise.”

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer.  Swallow and look past that perfectly charming smile he wore. “Hamel.  What are you doing here?”

Arobynn merely smiled, stretching his arms. “You don’t know?  Rowan and I are in the midst of a business deal.”

Behind Arobynn, Rowan appeared.  He looked just the same as he always did: brooding, stoic, and pissed to hell and back.  His green eyes flicked between Aelin and Arobynn, scowl deepening.

Aelin felt the pit in her stomach grow and she swore she was going to vomit.  She did her best to remain in control of her emotions as she looked at Rowan.

“What deal, Rowan?” she asked.  Though, she already knew the answer, didn't she?

“I’m buying the land,” Arobynn answered before Rowan could. “I’ve been expanding my business, didn’t you know?”

No, she didn’t.  Because Aelin had done everything in her power to avoid anything that had to do with Hamel in the last several years.  

As though sensing her distress, Arobynn flashed another sharp smile. “I look forward to working with you again, Aelin.  Just like old times, isn’t it?”

There was nothing she could say.  She couldn’t trust herself not to yell or scream or cry or any combination of the three.  That would be showing weakness.  And she was not weak.

“I’ll have my attorney look over your offer,” Rowan said quietly, drawing Hamel’s attention again. “We’ll be in contact.”

“Good,” Arobynn said, “I’d rather see this done sooner than later.  Whitethorn.”

Without any semblance of pleasantries, Arobynn left them and returned to his car.  That stupid silver Tesla that looked like a box and had no business being out on a farm.  For all Aelin cared it could go crash in a borough and get waylaid by hay and snow.  It wasn’t until the car silently pulled away and back down that Aelin felt her own voice return.

“You’re selling?” It was more of an accusation than anything.

Rowan straightened; arms still crossed over his chest. “Yes.”

“Why?” At least her voice wasn’t shaking.  At least she still sounded somewhat in control.

“Because I have to,” Rowan replied, but he looked away from her and Aelin knew that wasn’t the truth of it. “The why doesn’t even matter Aelin, you wouldn’t understand.”

A laugh escaped her.  Of course she wouldn’t.  Because she’d only been here a few short months, she wasn’t really a part of the life here or any of where the ranch had come from.  But she’d still put her blood, sweat, and tears into the ranch.  She’d wanted to see it succeed, that’s why Rowan had even hired her as a part time trauma specialist, wasn’t it?

“I know enough about this place,” she said, “it’s a staple of the community, of honest good work that no one else does, Rowan.  I know that much.  I understand that much.  That it’s helped more people get unstuck from life than just about any other program I’ve seen.”

He only shook his head, hand running through his hair.  The silver locks fell over his brow and for a moment, for one brief moment, Aelin thought she saw a part of him that she could reconcile with.  A softer allusion of the hard contours that Rowan often displayed.

“My reasons are my own,” he said firmly.  His eyes sparked with anger as he watched her. “And it doesn’t really matter beyond that. I can't keep doing this.  And--why do you even care?  It won’t even affect you that much.  Hamel’s going to keep it as a horse ranch mostly, and agrees with the work going on.  I don't think he'd change much.  He obviously likes you, so you can do whatever you want.”

Aelin couldn’t hide her flinch.  She tucked her arms around her middle more as an effort of protection and hiding than anything else. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Aelin.  You don’t need me here,” Rowan said, “this place will do well enough without me.”

“So you’re giving up?” She could only stare at him.  This wasn’t the Rowan Whitethorn she’d come to know, the one that she fought with on a daily basis.  This was someone else entirely.

“It’s none of your business, Aelin.”

“I’m a part of this ranch, aren’t I?  I’ve been here for months, and for what?”

“I never asked you to stick around.”  Rowan let out an exasperated huff. 

“He’s not a good man, Rowan,” Aelin said.  Most of the fight had gone out of her, replaced with dread and pain. “You don’t want him buying this land, your home.”

“He’s rich, what does it matter?”  Rowan pressed. “He’ll be able to do more with this place than I ever could.”

Aelin could only shake her head.  Yes, Arobynn was rich.  Rich enough that he could whatever he wanted, consequences be damned.  She tilted her head up just in time to catch a snowflake on her cheek.  The small chill was electrifying on her hot skin.  Slowly, more flakes continued to fall, fat and thick it looked like the forecast had finally chosen to be right.

“I can’t do this,” she finally said, “I’m going to check on the kids.”

She didn’t wait for Rowan to try and call her back.  She didn’t realize until she was entering the goat paddock that she had wanted him to.

…

It wasn’t until later that night as the kids were eating that Aelin had a moment to talk with Lysandra.  The snow had picked up and continued to fall throughout the afternoon driving them all inside, which after a week full of activities and being outside continually--it was a welcome break.

They were inside one of the cabins, pizza and soda spread out for the kids to enjoy.  Almost everything about the day had gone well.  If you didn’t count the Hamel matter.  The distraction and reality of what her life was spiraling towards wasn’t the best way to head into individual sessions, but Aelin had learned long ago how to compartmentalize.

Now, she was able to feel a little more relaxed as she and Lysandra were able to sit back while the kids started a terrible round of UNO.

“He’s so lucky I didn’t see him,” Lysandra said around a mouthful of pizza. “I would have kicked him in the balls then dragged his ass around from the back of a tractor, you know I would’ve.”

“I know,” Aelin assured her.

She picked at her pizza, appetite long since gone.  All she could think about was the fact that she’d seen and spoken with Hamel.  And she’d survived it.  

It was strange, being faced with a reality you thought was finally put behind you.  But that was life, wasn’t it?  You just kept learning the same lesson over and over again.  She just wondered what she was supposed to learn this time around.

“Did he say anything to Rowan?” Lysandra asked. “Does Rowan know anything?”

“I hope not,” Aelin said.  That would just be icing on the cake.  

Her past was a mess as it was.  Rehashing it and telling her side of things after someone had already been exposed to the lies of the story—well it wouldn’t do any good.

Still, Aelin didn’t want to think that Rowan knew about what had transpired.  Or if he’d think any different about her over it.  Most people did when they learned the truth and even if she was mad at him, Aelin didn’t think she could bear Rowan looking at her any different.

The story began back when she was sixteen.  Sixteen and in the throes of series equestrian training.  And she wasn’t the type to show in the dressage.  Aelin was a competitive rider in barrel racing, jumping, and the grittier events.  Her former trainer had just moved and who was to fill the position than Arobynn Hamel.

His methods were brutal and his words were cruel.  But young as she was, Aelin could only see what he could make of her.  And her parents had been none the wiser either.

Even after the drugs and borderline abuse.

Aelin shook off the memories. “It doesn’t matter if Rowan knows or not, does it?  He isn’t going to stick around.  He made that clear.”

“Are you going to stay,” Lysandra asked.  Her voice was painfully soft and Aelin had a hard time meeting her friend’s eyes.

“No.  I can’t…I can’t be around Hamel again, Lys.”  Aelin set her uneaten pizza aside. “After everything…I thought I finally had a place, you know?  That this was a good fit for me.  Even if Rowan’s an ass and doesn’t like me.  I liked the work.”

“Maybe if you talked—”

“No.” Aelin shook her head, cutting Lysandra off before she could even begin. “Rowan won’t talk it out.  He’d just sell the place faster if it meant getting rid of me.”

Lysandra sighed. “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “Whose side are you on?”

Lysandra didn’t answer, instead waving as Elide walked through the door, leaving a blistering trail of snow outside behind her.

“I hope it’s alright to stop by,” Elide said with a smile.  She grabbed a piece of pizza and settled between Aelin and Lysandra. “Lorcan’s still finishing up at the stables.”

“Good,” Lysandra said, moving over so Elide had plenty of space. “We need to talk sense into Aelin.”

“I’m not a miracle worker, you know,” Elide replied.  She grinned all the same and nudged Aelin’s leg with her foot. “What kind of sense are we talking?”

Aelin groaned, shaking her head.  One of the counselors took a few of the kids to the other cabin to prepare for bed.  It was nearing that time where they would all turn in.  The growing storm outside made the night feel sleepy and dark.  Not that Aelin minded.  Sometimes a lazy night was just what she needed, especially when she could curl up with a book.

“Lysandra thinks I’m being too hard on Rowan for deciding to sell the ranch,” Aelin told Elide, careful about how loud she spoke.  She didn’t want to risk upsetting the remaining kids or the other counselors.

Elide’s eyes widened at the news.

“You can’t tell—” Aelin said quickly.  She shouldn’t have even told Lysandra about Rowan’s plans.  Even if Lorcan already knew about Rowan’s decision, it was just in bad form for Aelin to be gossiping out it.

“I won’t,” Elide assured her.  “I promise.”

What Aelin had done to deserve friends like Lysandra and Elide, she didn’t know.  As she tugged on the end of her braid she didn’t know where to begin.

“I know I don’t really have a hand in this ranch or can’t tell him what to do,” Aelin said, “but I’ve put so much work into it that…”

Aelin let her words trail off.  Did it really matter what she’d done?  He obviously didn’t care enough to listen to her.  She couldn’t care.  She shouldn’t.  Because in the end, she always came out alone.

She was going to tell her friends that she was fine and it didn’t matter when the shouting started from the other cabin.

--

Back at the main house, Rowan and Aedion were settling everything in for the night.  After baking four giant pizzas for the kids (delivery drivers refused to drive all the way out to the ranch and the weather had taken a bit of a chilly turn) they settled in to watch the latest football game.  

What he didn’t expect was for Aedion to strike up a conversation.  

“You know,” Aedion said as a commercial break started, “I’ve never seen a place like this ranch before, it’s pretty remarkable what you’ve done.”

Rowan really didn’t know if that was true.  All he’d done was come in after his grandparents and parents established everything for him.  The last few years it felt like he’d barely been treading water.  Until the last few months when Aelin had swept in with her binders and her plans and damned conspiratorial smile.

“I haven’t done much,” Rowan replied.  Mostly kept everything afloat as best he could. “It’s mostly been Aelin bringing things back to life.”

It really was an apt description of the woman.  She was vibrant in the way she approached everything she did.  Never did she let anything pass by that was half-hearted or untended.  Rather, she made sure it was taken care of properly.  It was probably what made the fall season so successful.  No…no probably about it, it was what made the season one of the best in several years.

“She does tend to do that, doesn't she?” Aedion laughed. “It’s annoying as hell, because then she thinks she’s always right.  Which, I mean, technically she is always right, but she can’t know that.  She’d be insufferable if we told her.”

Rowan shook his head in agreement.  Though, if he thought about it, Aelin had enough confidence that even if she were wrong about something she would make things work in the end.  She had the faith and the sheer force of will to see something accomplished that an obstacle was merely a stepping stone to what she wanted.

“So,” Rowan began, a thought occurring to him as he thought about his own understanding of Aelin. “How do you know Aelin?  I never got that story?”

That earned him an amused look from Aedion who sat up straighter.

“She’s an Ashryver, you know,” Aedion said slowly, “as in Rhoe and Evalin Ashryver Galathyinius.”

Rowan froze at the pronouncement and slowly, painful understanding washed over him. “What?”

In the chair across from him, Aedion shook his head, blond hair falling in his face.  

“Doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t know,” Aedion chuckled wryly. “She doesn’t use her mom’s name very much, considering...But yeah.  Ashryver-Galathynius.  We’re cousins, were raised together through just about anything.  I was there in all of Aelin’s training when she really got into the horse scene.  She was the national champion in racing and show three years in a row until the accident.”

Rowan could only stare blankly at Aedion.  He didn’t know how he’d missed the similarities, hell, their eyes were even the same.  Why wouldn’t Aelin say anything?  Especially when he had given her so much crap about being a city girl.  She could have shut him up without any effort.

Though, at Aedion’s mention of an accident, he remembered something vaguely happening in the world of showing and competition.  That side of the horse world was something he’d never stayed completely caught up in.  Especially not years ago when he’d been so busy with taking the ranch over.

“She was nineteen, it was going to be her fourth year in a row of winning that championship,” Aedion explained, “and she’d put herself through hell for it.  She kept herself in the best shape, hardly ate.  Was always training.  Her trainer—” a sour look flashed over Aedion’s face— “her trainer wouldn’t leave well enough alone and always pushed her further than anyone should go, not at that age.  It was never proven, but I’m pretty sure they slipped her drugs and the horse too because they were racing barrels which is Aelin’s best event and next thing you know the horse gets spooked and Aelin goes flying.”

Aedion paused, running a hand over his jaw as he stared into the fireplace. “It’s a miracle she wasn’t paralyzed.  Or worse.  Arobynn never even got a slap on the wrist for it.”

Rowan’s gut churned in a sickening way.  “Arobynn Hamel?”

The dark look in Aedion’s eyes was answer enough.

Rowan remembered all the times in the last several months of how he’d berated Aelin for her lack of knowledge on a ranch, how she shied away from the horses.  He’d accused her of so many things that he just hadn’t known about.

“She recovered eventually,” Aedion said, “but I don’t think she was ever the same.  She never got on a horse again after that.  But she volunteered a lot at various stables back in Terrasen or at those camps for kids with autism, y’know?  Kinda like what you do here.  And then she got her degree and has talked about applying for a doctorate.  Damn.  She was always going to become something.”

“I didn’t know, about her past, I mean,” Rowan murmured.  His fingers tightened on the drink in his hand, long forgotten in the conversation.

“It’s why she tends to drop her mom’s name,” Aedion said, he shot Rowan a wry smile. “She doesn’t want that to be all people associate with her.  Her parents love her, don’t get me wrong, but they always put so much pressure on her.  Rhoe and Evalin practically raised me too and I got the same treatment.  The Ashryvers aren’t known for weakness.”

If there was anything Rowan had learned in the past week, it was the truth of that sentence.  Aelin was so much more than the city girl he’d first thought her to be.  Everything she had done in her time on the ranch had been to help the kids and families that came through.  She had worked so hard to turn this place into a functioning therapy ranch and she’d done a damn good job at it.

And he’d gone on to sell the ranch.

Not that he really owed the explanation to anyone.  Sellene was guilt-tripping him enough as it was.  But he’d found the last few months to be more bearable.  Somehow.  Impossibly.  Even with Aelin being as difficult as she was sometimes.  But that was what he liked about her.  She challenged him.  She made plans and got things done.  She was fearless.

And he’d gone on to sell the ranch.

The one place she’d said made her feel like she was coming home.

“I need to--” Rowan began, already reaching for his phone so that he could call her.

He didn’t get far though when the front door opened with a loud thud.  Rowan was on his feet in an instant, for some reason thinking it would be Aelin.  Instead, it was Lysandra and Elide with a very distraught Evangeline.  The young girl had tears streaming down her cheeks and snow was still melting in her hair from the storm raging outside.

“What happened?” Rowan demanded, already sensing the trouble afoot.

Evangeline shrunk back into Lysandra, shaking slightly.  Rowan doubted it was from the chill.  He cursed himself for adding to the girl's distress.  If he remembered correctly, Evangeline was in between foster homes as the last place was unsuitable.  That scar on her cheek was fresh enough that Rowan could guess what unsuitable meant.

He softened his voice. “Is everyone alright?”

Evangeline squeaked, her hair falling in her face.  Behind her, Lysandra made a soothing sound as she gently brushed Evie’s hair back.  Her glare cut right into Rowan making it clear what she thought about him.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Lysandra said, “you’re not in trouble.  Just tell Rowan what happened.”

Evangeline sniffed loudly and nodded. “It was Luca.  He and Derek got in a fight when we were playing a game and Luca left and I told him not to but—” Evangeline forced a shuddering breath “—but he left anyway out in the snow.  So I went and got Aelin and Lysandra.”

“Aelin went out looking for him,” Lysandra finished quietly.  She gave Evangeline’s shoulder a tight squeeze.  “But it’s turning into a blizzard out there, I don’t know how far either of them will get.  We left one of the other counselors to keep an eye on the rest of the kids.”

All Rowan could register in that moment was Aelin is out in the blizzard.  It took his remembering that they were all looking to him for answers for him to snap to attention.  He turned to Elide.

“Lorcan?” He asked.

“Finishing up in the stables,” Elide said, “he’s probably still there.  And probably let her take a horse.”

Rowan doubted that.  Even if Lorcan wasn’t fond of Aelin, he wouldn’t let her go out in this weather.

“Try calling him,” Rowan said, “see what he knows.”

When Elide nodded and stepped away, he looked back at Evangeline who was still shaking against Lysandra.

“It’s alright, Evangeline,” he said, “you did the right thing by letting us know what happened.  Are you still cold?”

“N-no,” the girl stuttered softly.

Rowan held out a hand to her anyway. “Come have a seat by the fire, I’ve got hot chocolate in the kitchen too.”

Hesitantly, Evangeline accepted his offer.  He got her settled in the chair he’d vacated and found one of the many fleece blankets Aelin had left lying around.  After wrapping her up, Aedion had his phone out and played a Disney movie to distract the girl.

The adults huddled together in the kitchen while Rowan readied the promised hot chocolate.

“Lorcan said that Aelin took off on one of the mares,” Elide said quietly.  She still held her phone to her ear, the call with Lorcan active. “He wants to know if he should go after her.”

“I’ll come out to the stables now, have him wait for me,” Rowan replied.  He pulled a freshly heated mug from the microwave and dumped in a cocoa packet.  It wasn’t the best but it’s do in a pinch.  Besides, knowing that Aelin spent so much time up here there was bound to be whipped cream in the fridge and marshmallows in a cabinet.  “I’ll ride out with him.”

Lysandra took the mug from him. “Then go.  I’ll finish this.  I don’t know about riding horses.”

Rowan looked at Aedion who shrugged.

“I mean,” the other man said, “I know how to stay on.”

“Good enough,” Rowan said.  He turned to Elide next. 

“I’ll wait at the barn with blankets and flashing lights,” she said before he could get a word out. “Now let's go, the snow is only going to get worse.”

It was more than enough to kick the rest of them into action.

After finding all the spare coats, socks, and blankets they could, they piled into Rowan’s truck and made the quick trip across the drive to the stables.  All Rowan could focus on was the snow.

It no longer fell in thick innocuous fluff, rather it had turned to tiny flecks of ice that could cut skin.  The heavy wind didn’t help anything either.  The weather had quickly dissolved from mediocre to abysmal in the span of an hour.  The snow was no longer sticking to the ground, instead billowing in icy white clouds all around them.  Any semblance of being on an actual road was lost.

Rowan tried not to let it bother him.  He tried to remind himself that Luca wouldn’t get far in this weather.  Aelin was an experienced rider…even if she hadn’t been on a horse in nearly ten years.  His gut still churned in trepidation and a mild sense of panic set his heart to racing.  It was fine.

They reached the barn to find the side door open and Lorcan’s outline waiting with two horses already geared up and ready.  

Piling from the truck, Rowan threw on his coat and grabbed the thick goose down parka for when they found Luca.  He wrapped a scarf around his face as best he could to protect from the wind.

Aedion had the same idea.  He’d also found a hand to pull down over his hair and ears.

“No,” Lorcan said as soon as he saw Elide’s smaller form emerge from around the truck. “Absolutely not.  Go back to the main house.”

Had her arms not been full of blankets and spare coats, Rowan expected Elide would have flipped her boyfriend off.

“Make me.” She gave him a look that offered no room for argument and slipped into the stables.

Lorcan turned to Rowan, fury clearly written in his face.

“She’s going to stay back and keep the lights on for when we make our way back,” Rowan told him.  “She’ll be fine.”

In any other situation, Rowan was sure Lorcan would have argued further.  Instead, he passed off the reins to Goldryn.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said.  He then turned to Aedion to offer the other horse.  Rowan had no doubt a third was already saddled and bridled just inside the doors.

Rowan made no promises as to what sort of decisions he would be making.  He merely got one foot in the stirrups and hauled himself up.  They’d wasted enough time and he wanted to get out there and find both Aelin and Luca.

“Rowan!” 

He turned to see Elide running towards him.  She waved an object in one hand, a flashlight.

“Phones will be useless,” she explained. “And I can’t find any walkie-talkies.  Morse code, yeah?”

Smart.  He accepted the light and clicked it on and off again. “Thanks.”

“Just find them.” Her dark eyes were pleading but nothing else about her smaller stature betrayed any of her worry.  When Rowan nodded in assurance, she turned back to the stables.  Rowan tucked the flashlight into the front of his coat before finally turning towards the direction he thought Luca would have gone from the cabins.

As the wind picked up and sent another cloud of snow to wash over them, Rowan tensed for a moment before urging Goldryn on.  They had some ground to cover before they made it to the cabins.  But it had been at least twenty minutes since Luca had run off.  Even with the terrible weather, a determined kid on the run could do a lot of damage.

“C’mon girl,” Rowan called, nudging Goldryn into a canter.

He knew this land better than anyone.  And he wouldn’t let anything happen to Luca or Aelin if he could help it.

…

Ice cut into Aelin’s skin as she and Farasha continued through the snow.  She hadn’t thought to grab a scarf or face covering, hadn’t thought to find a thicker coat.  The best she’d grabbed was a thin lap blanket.  All she’d heard was that Luca ran off into the storm after an argument with one of the other kids.  She would have thought about strangling Luca if she weren’t so worried about him.

“Luca!” she called out, wincing at the cold wind nearly choking her own voice.

She hadn’t even let her own panic take over at the thought of riding again.  She’d saddled up the large horse in record time and told Lorcan to ready two other horses for him and Rowan to come search with her.  It hadn’t even occurred to her that Rowan may not come, may not care as much as she did.  But even if she was pissed off at him, she couldn’t imagine that he would stand idly by when a kid was caught out here in the weather.

Her fingers were stiff as she gripped the reins, grateful at least for that bit of distraction.  It had been ages since she’d been on a horse and ridden.  After breaking her back in a nasty fall and dealing with the repercussions from Hamel, she had sworn she would never get on another horse.  She had sworn she would never return to this life.  But here she was because all she wanted to do was help the kids who needed it.

She shuddered and not just from the cold.

The terrain wasn’t terrible, even with the way the rolling snow covered the ground and how dark the night had gotten.  Even in the last seven months Aelin had grown used to the land.  She’d spent hours walking, running, and just enjoying the ranch.  Between walks with the kids she worked with or helping with moving the small herd of goats from pasture to pasture—Aelin felt like she knew the ranch as well as anyone.

Yet, as the wind continued to howl and the snow beat relentlessly against her side, Aelin had the sickening feeling she was getting lost.  She fumbled for her phone and pulled up the flashlight.  It hardly made a difference, in fact, the light was swallowed up almost as soon as it left the phone.

Aelin bit her lip to keep from cursing.  She didn’t want any more cold air in her mouth finding its way down into her lungs.

How long had she been out here?  An hour?  Two?  How long would Luca last with just his pajamas and simple coat?  

Beneath her, Farasha grunted.  It would only be a matter of time before the horse had had enough and would insist on turning back.

With numb fingers, Aelin patted the horse’s neck.  They would find Luca.  They had to.

The only logical direction Luca could go from the cabins was the main house.  But if he were too embarrassed or upset, he may just go in the opposite direction.  But all there would be was darkness.  Empty and heavy.  Or…or maybe…

Aelin thought back to the first day Luca had arrived and when she’d showed him the old homestead.  It was an old cabin that Rowan’s great-grandfather had first lived in upon buying the land.  She’d told Luca the same story Rowan had told her: with hardly any money his great-grandparents made that tiny cabin a home until they could till the land and make a living come spring.  They’d survived against all odds and used it as a sign of a new beginning.

Spurring Farasha on, Aelin took off for the cabin.  Luca had been enthralled by the story, asking question after question, he even asked to visit the cabin a second and third time.  

Okay, okay, okay. It was the only thing Aelin could think that wouldn’t send her into a different sort of plummeting thoughts.  

Even as the icy wind and sharp snow continued their assault, she told herself that everything was okay.

Aelin was beginning to lose hope, letting the soul wrenching feel of dread rise up within her.  It had been too long.  There was no sign of the cabin nor of Luca.  

This was her fault.  It was all her fault.

A flicker in the distance caught her attention.  A shadow mingling with the already thickly cloying shadows and manipulations of the storm.

“Luca!” Aelin yelled.  As Farasha continued diligently on, the small old cabin came into view and there, trekking towards it was a small hunkered shape. “Luca!”

The shape stopped and Aelin heard a voice in the wind.  Hope rose within her, beating against the dread and panic.

“Hold on!”  Sensing her urgency, Farasha pressed on, though Aelin could tell it was with reluctance.  

It took several agonizing minutes to move the few yards closer to the cabin but they made it.  And there, trying desperately to reach the old cabin was Luca.

Aelin let out a string of curses as she slid off of Farasha.  She gripped the lap blanket in one hand, keeping it close as she ran to Luca.  The boy couldn’t reach out to her, his arms wrapped tight around him.  His coat was too thin for this weather, his old boots unlaced.  Aelin swore his skin was blue, not just his lips.

“A-a-aelin?” he stuttered, the sound of her name was too soft from his mouth.

Aelin threw the blanket around him.  She pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around his middle as she tried to rub warmth into his limbs.

“What were you thinking?” she asked, unable to curb her own panic.  “Luca.  Luca.  Luca.”

The boy trembled against her.  He was trying to talk, to apologize, but Aelin kept him tugged against him so tight his words were muffled.

Ice stung Aelin’s eyes as she pulled away and knelt before him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, speaking over the sound of the wind.

He nodded even as his body still shook.  Hell.  

Aelin drew Luca back against her side. “It’s going to be fine.  I’ve got Farasha and we’re going to get back to the house.  Everything’s fine.”

She wasted no time in leading Luca to the horse.  She boosted him up into the saddle, helping him scoot as far up as he could.  Aelin braced herself as she scrambled up on the horse behind him.  The motion wasn’t as smooth as it could have been.  Combined with lack of practice, cold, and, admittedly, fear, Aelin didn’t let it bother her.

Once settled, she pulled Luca against her chest and reached for the reins.

“We’re alright,” she told him.  What else could she say?  “We’re going to go back to the house and get you warmed up.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Luca chattered. “I knew I shouldn’t have left.”

Aelin shushed him gently. “It’s okay.  Everything’s okay.”

Luca trembled against her chest but fell quiet as he tucked his face into the blanket, she’d given him.  The wind had picked up and snow swirled around them.  Aelin squinted, trying to keep ice from pricking her eyes.  It only made tears start to well and track down her cheeks.  In a matter of seconds, she could feel her skin freeze.  Aelin dared not blink for fear of her eyes freezing shut.  Instead, she tapped her heels against Farasha’s side.

Even with the added load of Luca, the horse surged forward.  Aelin had no idea if they were headed in the right direction.  All she could do was hope that the horse had a better sense of where they were than she.  But with how dark the night had fallen and the increased snowfall, Aelin couldn’t help the panic welling within her.  She had found Luca, sure, but that was only half the problem.  

Now they had to trek back through the storm to the stables.  Aelin guided Farasha as best she could, but the sheets of snow that swirled around them certainly didn’t help.

To ease her own worry, she wrapped an arm around Luca, keeping him close.  He was still conscious, which was good.  She tried asking him questions to make sure he stayed that way but after a few rounds of feeling like her throat was freezing and Luca’s continued shudders--she stopped.  

Come on, she thought to herself.  She was strong enough to do this.  Strong enough to get Luca back safely.  Even if no one else thought much of her--she could see this through.

And then what?  She’d be out of a job.  Likely forced to move back to the city and she didn’t want that.  She didn’t want to stay here either if what Rowan said was true.

If Arobynn Hamel took over the ranch Aelin knew she couldn’t stay.  Hamel was cruel to say the least.  Vindictive, arrogant, abusive.  He had pushed Aelin beyond her limits and was the reason her life had changed forever.

She wanted to hate Rowan for what he had planned.  But how could he have known?  She never talked about her past as it was.  It wasn’t even any of his business if she did leave.

Damn him.  Damn him for giving up on this place in the first place.  And damn him for making her think that she almost had a home here.

A shiver rolled through Aelin’s body.  How could she still feel the cold?  Everything was numb at this point.  She didn’t even know how she could remain upright in the saddle, let alone hold the reins.  But the cold had settled in so deep that it was simply an extension of who she was now.

They passed by a fence post that Aelin didn’t recognize.  Or did she?  Was it the one along the easter paddock?  That meant they were near the stables right?  

The top of the post only had a thin layer of snow on top, the barbed wire extending along to the next post already had icicles forming.

As if sensing her unease, Farasha moved a little faster.  But, really, there wasn’t much the horse could do.  Not in these conditions.

Aelin tilted her face up to the sky, as though that would do anything.  All she could see was the mass of snow and ice continuing to fall.  The gray sky overhead a mass of terror and pure power.  Never had she felt so insignificant until that moment.  She was a small speck in comparison to the universe overhead.  

She dropped her head again and stared forward, willing herself to see some chance of hope.

There was nothing.  Nothing but white.  Nothing but gray.  Nothing but--

A flash of light.

Aelin straightened in the saddle and stared at where she’d seen the flash.  She hadn’t imagined it.  She couldn’t have.

There it was again!

A quick flash followed by a longer one.  The flashes continued in somewhat the same manner, like morse code.  

Aelin’s fingers were too stiff to try for her phone.  She would have dropped it before managing to get it unlocked.  All she could do was guide Farasha towards the light.  Aelin had never learned morse code beyond SOS.  But she’d been out on this land plenty of times and she knew there weren’t any strange flashing lights around.  And these flashes seemed too deliberate in any case.

It was the only reassurance she could hold on to.  That and keeping Luca in one arm.

Another few minutes passed on until Aelin could hear a voice on the wind.  She didn’t register it at first, but it was familiar.  The shout came again; long and steady.

“Luca!  Aelin!”  Their names were drawn out into multiple syllables but it was someone shouting for them.

Not just someone.  Aelin would have recognized that voice anywhere.

The flashlight beam grew stronger the closer they got and Aelin could soon make out a shape sitting astride a horse.  

“Rowan,” she whispered, more to herself than anything.  Because who else could it be. “Rowan!”

It was only a minute later that had Goldryn loping toward them with Rowan.  He still had the flashlight in one hand, beaming brightly against the night.

“Aelin!” he yelled.  He drew in close, close enough to grab her shoulder.

The flashlight helped illuminate him enough that Aelin could see the taut lines of his face, his eyes wide in panic.  The scarf around his lower face had fallen away and snow was building up in the creases.  But it was him.  He was here, staring at her like she was the greatest damn thing he’d ever seen.

“We’re fine,” she said, loud over the storm. “But we need to get Luca warmed up.”

Rowan dropped his gaze to the boy who was still pressed against Aelin’s chest.

“Let's go,” he said, “it’s not that far.”

Aelin could only nod as he turned Goldryn and led the way to the stables.  Farasha, blessedly brilliant beast that she was, followed without any prompting.  

The tightness in Aelin’s chest loosened with each step made.  They had made it.  It really was going to be alright.

Quicker than Aelin realized, the stables came into view.  Bright light from the floodlights broke through the storm and she could see the doors were cracked open just a bit.  Two other horses were by the doors being tended to.  It took Aelin several moments to realize it was Lorcan and Aedion waiting there.  They soon disappeared into the barn, taking the two horses with them.  

When Rowan and Aelin reached the stable doors, both men had returned.  Lorcan wasted not time in coming to Aelin’s side.  He grabbed Luca from the saddle, hauling the boy into his arms and taking him inside.  Aelin could only stare after.  She had no idea if she could move, let alone blink.

It wasn’t until Rowan appeared in her line of sight that she did blink, miraculously without frozen eyes.  She had no idea when he’d gotten off his horse but here he was right beside her.  He reached out, one hand going to her side as he gently tugged her off of Farasha.

She fell into him.  It was an accident, really.  But her body was still numb and she might have been in shock, but she went tumbling off of the saddle in as inelegant a dismount as could be imagined.  Rowan’s arms stayed around her, keeping them both upright.

“I got you,” he murmured into her ear.  He kept a firm hold on her as she slowly regained her balance.

Somehow, he still had warmth to share.  As he kept her tight in his grasp, Aelin could practically feel her own body leeching it off of him.  She was desperate to feel anything other than the raging cold threatening to freeze her entire body.  

Lorcan appeared in another minute and helped with Farasha, Aedion took control of Goldryn.

Rowan led Aelin into the stables that were already infinitely warmer than the storm outside.  There seated on a few bales of hay was Elide, well at work with getting Luca wrapped in a fresh blanket and tugging a hat over his head.

“You’re half frozen,” Rowan said.  He kept walking Aelin away from the opened doors of the stables.  “What the hell were you thinking?”

Aelin could only stare at him.  

The familiar scowl was in place and his brow was furrowed as he worked to get her out of her wet coat.  A thin and useless coat, he pointed out.  He replaced it by draping a thicker one over her shoulders, holding it in place when she didn’t take it herself.

All she could do was stare at him.  He had come for her.  He had gone out into that storm and came to find her.  Luca too.  But with the way he was staring at her and brushing the messy strands of hair from her face--all Aelin could really process was that he was here for her.

“You’re fussing,” she managed to whisper.

“Of course I’m fussing,” he said, incredulity spreading across his face. “Aelin, you’re freezing.”

Of course she was.  She’d spent the better part of an hour (more?) searching through a blizzard on a horse looking for Luca.  Her entire body shook with cold and a mild panic of what she’d just accomplished.

Rowan tugged the coat tighter around her as he kept talking.  But Aelin couldn’t hear what he was going on about.  A shrill ringing started in her ears blocking almost everything else out.  And then the shivers wouldn’t stop.  Her entire body was shaking and it was all she could do to stay on her own two feet before she pitched forward straight into Rowan, vision going black.

…

When Aelin woke, she found herself surrounded by a thick warmth that engulfed her.  It was far welcome from the dreams of freezing snow and wind that she’d had all night.  Grateful for the thick blankets tucked all around her, Aelin snuggled in deeper, breathing in a familiar scent of pine.

Her eyes snapped open with sudden awareness.

She wasn’t in her own bed.  

Pain lanced through her head as she tried sitting up.  The sheer weight of the blankets piled on top of her was enough to keep her down though, for at least a minute longer.

What the hell had happened?  Her body ached as though she’d run a marathon and she was certain her toes were frozen solid and—

And there had been the blizzard.  And Luca.  And she’d gotten on a horse and rose out into a blizzard to find him.

That thought alone spurred her on.  She shoved the thick quilts aside, pausing only at the patchwork of the top blanket that was a blend of greens and silvers in a pattern she couldn’t quite make out, but it was handmade.  She could tell that much.

Aelin then realized that she was in Rowan’s room.  If not for the scent of pine and the obvious splashes of green throughout the decoration, then the picture on the bedside table.  It was of a boy no more than ten with a shock of silver hair standing on a dock that overlooked a lake.  In one hand he held up a fishing line with a giant fish dangling from the hook.  Beside him was an older man, his father, who had a proud grin on his face as he wrapped an arm around the boy.  And there was another picture of a woman with tan skin and brilliant green eyes smiling down at a bundled baby in her arms.

She was in Rowan’s room.

The thought shocked her enough that she remained seated on the edge of the bed right up until the door opened.  Mind still reeling, Aelin could only watch as Rowan himself slowly stepped into the room.

He stopped immediately upon seeing her awake and sitting up.  Dressed in his usual attire of jeans and flannel she almost would have guessed she hadn’t been asleep that long.  If it hadn’t been for his disheveled hair or the stubble on his chin and cheeks.

“You should be asleep,” Rowan said.  He held a cup of water in one hand and slowly walked it over to her, setting it on the bedside table she’d just been examining.

“I was,” Aelin replied, even with the short words her voice rasped with disuse and exhaustion. 

Rowan who now stood just before her, his knees brushing hers, reached out and brushed a few messy strands of hair from her face.  His fingers were warm against her skin and the calluses rough as they scraped gently along her cheek.  The expression in his eyes held something Aelin wasn’t sure how to read.  She’d thought she’d gotten decent enough at interpreting Rowan that it unsettled her just a bit.  

Instead of the depthless sea of green she was so accustomed to, he was now guarded and hesitant.  Compared to his usual assurance and confidence--Aelin was at a loss of what to say.

“Drink this,” Rowan said, filling the silence.  He pushed the glass of water into her hands along with a few pain pills and the granola bar. “And eat.  The pills will settle better with something in your stomach.”

Aelin set the items aside. “I’m fine.”

“Aelin.”

The warning in his voice had Aelin’s hackles rising.  She set her jaw and glared right back at him.

“I’m fine.” 

They stared at each other, neither budging.  And they could sit there all day for all Aelin was concerned.  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep or of any of the other details of her passing out, but she did know she was still pissed Rowan and she would hold out for as long as--

“Please,” Rowan said, voice uncharacteristically soft, “just eat something.”

The breath stilled in Aelin’s lungs.  When had she ever heard him say please?  It was such a strange word coming from him that Aelin automatically reached for the granola bar and unwrapped it.  She took a few bites before swallowing the pain pills with some of the water.

“Happy?” she asked, placing the water back on the bedside table.

Rowan, as expected, remained silent.  When he turned aways from her, Aelin thought he was going to give her some peace and quiet, but he was only putting a little distance between them. Which was probably for the best considering Aelin was having a difficult time breathing normally when he was so close.  She would blame it on nearly getting hypothermia.  That was it.

“Do you have any idea how stupid it was for you to go out like you did?” he demanded.  He’d stepped back closer to the window, pale light filtering through the thin curtains to illuminate him enough that Aelin could better see the outlines of his face and the stiff way he held himself.

“I was trying to find Luca,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Get help,” Rowan said, “it was a blizzard Aelin, what if something had happened?”

“Exactly.”  She rose to her feet, blinking back the fuzzy blackness along the edge of her vision.  She wasn’t going to let him berate her. “I couldn’t let something happen to Luca.  He was my responsibility.  It’s a miracle I found him at all.”

Aelin waited expectantly for him to say something else.  To continue to tell her how stupid she was, how upset he was.  That she’d made mistake after mistake.

But he didn’t.

Rowan stood before her, hands on his hips and lips pressed tight together.  Silent.

“I wasn’t going to leave him,” Aelin said, and she was shocked to find emotion beginning to clog her throat. “I couldn’t.”

And then Rowan did the absolute last thing she expected.  He hugged her.

One moment he was two feet away looking as mad as she’d ever seen him, the next he was pulling her into a bone crushing hug.  His arms wound around her, one hand buried in her hair to keep her close.  It took Aelin a few seconds to reorient herself but she carefully returned the hug.

Several different questions and emotions swam through Aelin’s head.  Most of which dealt with the variety that Rowan was actually displaying affection of one sort or another.  He wasn’t a stone wall of silence in that moment but someone who cared.  At least, that was how she chose to interpret this display.

“It’s alright,” she found herself murmuring. “Everything’s fine.”

She realized belatedly that the anger she’d felt rolling off of him was actually fear.  That he’d been scared for her.  She marveled at it really, that Rowan Whitethorn would be worried about her.  

Aelin gently eased back, just enough that she could look at him with a bit more clarity.  Her entire body was still brimming with exhaustion, she could feel her own tiredness thudding through her bones with every beat of her heart.  It was only a small, dull ache though in comparison with the unyielding depths of Rowan’s dark eyes.

She didn’t go far though.  The warmth radiating off of him was welcome, feeling almost as though she were back in bed and wrapped in the many blankets.  Being so close to him was strange, different.  She’d never allowed herself to get so close to him before that now, being held by him--she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe and secure.

“Sorry,” Rowan said, though he didn’t release her entirely as one hand trailed softly along her side.

Not knowing how to navigate any of this--Aelin avoided a direct response.

“How’s Luca?” she asked.

“Fine,” Rowan said, “he woke up twenty minutes ago and is perfectly fine.”

“Good,” she said, genuine relief flooding her. “That’s good.”

“We had him and Evangeline stay in the house, Evie stayed in your room,” Rowan went on to explain. “Because the weather was so bad, Lorcan and Elide stayed the night too.  They’re with the rest of the kids down at the cabins.”

“Rowan, I,” Aelin began, knowing that she did at least owe him a little of an apology.  In part for her recklessness (though they would both know she wasn’t really sorry) and for the way she acted after learning about Hamel. 

“Don’t,” he said, quick to cut her off.  His fingers dug into her sides grounding her right where they stood. “You don’t need to say anything.”

“I’m sorry,” she said anyways, he gave her an exasperated sort of look that made her smile. “Not about Luca, I stand by going after him, but Hamel.  There’s more to that than I’ve told anyone.”

Rowan cleared his throat, eyes flicking away for a brief moment before resettling on her. “Aedion might have told me a little about that.  And about…”

He trailed off when Aelin turned away.  She didn’t know why she did, why she wanted to ignore her past and lock it back up again where no one, not even she, could find it.  But she did.  Because she knew how it sounded, how it looked.  The spoiled rich girl from the good background with everything at her beck and call falls into a mess of drug use.  Even if she hadn’t known about it.

When the backs of her knees hit the bed, Aelin collapsed onto the mattress.  She was exhausted anyways and really just wanted to sink back into the blankets and fall asleep.  Maybe pretend none of this had ever happened.

“I ended the deal with Hamel,” Rowan said.  “Literally just got off the phone with him to tell him I wasn’t selling anymore.”

Aelin felt her jaw fall open as she stared up at him. “You what?”

If there was anything he could have said to shock her, that was it.

“I’m not selling,” Rowan repeated.  He looked as serious as he ever did, not a fleck of emotion on his face.  It was a strange beauty he held, Aelin thought at that moment.  The hard planes of his face, his sharp jawline, and the full curve of his lips—all of it combined together in such a way that nearly stole her breath away.

“Why not?” she whispered. “Not to him or not at all?”

He swallowed, throat bobbing.  Aelin thought it curious, why would he care about this so much to end the deal that, as he’d said, would bring in a great deal of money?  And why would he care enough to not want to talk about it further?

“No deal at all,” Rowan said, “my attorney’s processing a formal citation for it now.”

“Why?” she asked again.  Why did she care so much?  Was it her own love for this ranch that has somehow developed over these brief few months?  Was it no more than the desire to know that Hamel was getting screwed over? 

This time when he came towards her, Aelin didn’t move.  She only watched as he slowly drew closer until once again, his knees knocked against hers.  He hovered over her, his broad frame blocking out the light from the window.  But he wasn’t imposing, wasn’t a cruel thing engulfing her.  It was just Rowan.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he said. The admission sent shivers running along her arms, racing down her spine. “Not after, everything.”

“Everything,” Aelin repeated, trying hard to ignore the way her heart was hammering in her chest and how her stomach dipped at the low timbre of his voice.  “It was the binder, wasn’t it?”

She couldn’t help the teasing words.  The binder that had outlined this week of kids coming to the ranch had included a brief plan of continued action to take on seeing more progress made for various revenue opportunities for the ranch.  Really, Aelin hadn’t expected Rowan would read much into it.

Rowan snorted a soft laugh, head tilting up as though he were looking to the heavens for help.

“Yeah, I guess that was it.” His words weren’t convincing.  Not even in the slightest.  Especially not when Aelin saw that small spark in his eyes, the way he was so close yet still so far.  And Aelin, despite everything that had happened, wanted him closer.  Rowan, she knew, was too chivalrous and wouldn’t do anything to push her over whatever line they were toeing.

She reached up, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt, the fabric soft against her skin.  

“I told you it was—” Aelin never had the chance to finish teasing him further when he swept in to kiss her.

It was a soft brush of his lips against hers, barely anything at all.  And still it made her breath catch, caused goosebumps to race over her skin.  She arched into him, eagerly seeking out of his touch.  She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so wild in her own skin.

Rowan cupped her cheek with one hand as he drew her closer. The deepening kiss nearly drowned her.  He paused only once, hovering before her in a silent question.  Aelin responded by fisting her fingers in his shirt and dragging him to her.  His lips turned insistent against hers, drawing a small sound from her throat.

In all her time at the ranch, Aelin had never known Rowan to be so gentle or careful.  But the way he treated her as though she were something to be cherished, something to be loved—it had her heart seizing in her throat.  

She wanted more, needed more, and given the way Rowan’s hands ran through her hair and down her sides she knew he did too.

Which, of course, was when a soft knock came at the bedroom door.

“Aelin?”  It was Lysandra come to check on her.

She and Rowan broke apart, putting just enough distance between them.  There was no guilt or regret in Rowan’s eyes, rather a promise just for her.

Aelin straightened, adjusting her mussed shirt.  “Come in.”  She reached for the half-eaten granola bar and started to finish it off, just so she could have something to do with her hands and maybe detract from what she and Rowan had been up to.

The look on Lysandra’s face said she wasn’t convinced.  She raised a brow, fixing her look solely on Rowan before turning to Aelin.

“I told him not to bother you,” she said.

“I was already awake,” Aelin said honestly.  

Lysandra hummed, her mouth curving into a smirk. “Sure.  Well, there’s a real breakfast downstairs.  And Luca wants to thank-you in person for finding him.”

“Thanks, Lys,” Aelin said.

Her friend waited a moment longer before turning to leave.  She left the door open behind her.

Aelin waited until Lysandra disappeared down the stairs before she rose to her feet.  She was tired and still a bit achy but she knew that if she and Rowan remained up here any longer it would only result in an embarrassing call out.  That or Aedion would be sent to collect them.  And for her cousin's health and Rowan’s own sanity, Aelin thought it best not to avoid the inevitable.

Automatically, she reached out for Rowan and took her hand in his.  She laced their fingers together and gave him a small squeeze.

“I never did thank-you,” she said, stepping closer to him, willing to snatch just one more moment.

Rowan arched a brow. “For what?”

“You came to find me,” she said, “even after everything.”

His face softened and Rowan brought their clasped hands up between them, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

“I’ll always come if you need me,” he promised.

Aelin smiled, unable to help it.  For the first time in ages, she felt a small bit of joy begin to kindle deep in her chest.  Where once it might have scared her, now it was a welcome feeling, one that she would keep close deep within her.

“C’mon, buzzard, before she sends Aedion up to get us.”  She tugged him to the door with her so they could join the fray awaiting downstairs for them.

And over the next few days, Aelin wouldn’t know what the future would bring.  She didn’t know if anything would happen between her and Rowan or if this was some strange moment shared together.  She didn’t even know what would happen with her career.

What she did know was that she wanted to fight for it, whatever may come.

…

Epilogue—Six Months Later

It was the howling of a dog that woke him at six in the morning, not his usual alarm.  At first, Rowan was keen to ignore it and instead try to fall back asleep.  But the dog howled again, mostly out of need for attention than anything else.  He rolled over in bed, one arm reaching out to the warm body beside him.

“Your child is calling,” he grumbled.

Aelin cursed from where she was tangled in the blankets. “You’re the one that bought her.”

Indeed, Rowan had purchased the dog that let out another howl outside.  He’d figured if he were going to keep the ranch, they should have a dog.  What he hadn’t planned on was the little demon to end up being almost exactly like Aelin.  He should have known.

Snorting a laugh, Rowan tugged her closer, ignoring the way Aelin’s blonde hair was splayed out messily, nearly engulfing him.  He wrapped a hand around her waist, keeping her close.  She was soft against him; curves and angles fitting perfectly with him.  No matter how many times they woke like this, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

Aelin rolled over in his arms so they were face to face and she could hook her leg over his hip.  Already she had one hand buried in his hair as she settled down again.  Rowan cracked an eye open to watch her.

Eyes closed and a look of contentment on her soft features, Aelin still remained the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  The nightgown she wore was a poor excuse for covering.  The thin straps had fallen down her shoulders and left her chest almost perfectly exposed.  The hemline rode up far along her thighs.  And he was well aware she wasn’t wearing underwear beneath.  

He had no idea how they’d come to this point—no idea how he’d managed to not screw things up beyond measure.  Given the way they’d started—they by all means should still hate each other.  But here they were, tangled together in a mess of limbs.

He realized too late that she’d opened her eyes.

“Staring?” she asked.

“Always.”

Aelin grinned in that delightfully bright way she did.  It was enough to strike any man dumb.  Taking advantage of his distraction, Aelin swooped in for a quick kiss.

“I’ll take care of the dog if you make me pancakes,” she said, already climbing out of bed.

Rowan, however, had another idea.  He snatched a hand out, catching her wrist to pull her back down on the bed.  Aelin yelped in surprise, nearly falling on top of him.  She caught herself though, one hand braced on the mattress next to him.  Golden hair fell around them as a curtain, a tangled, messy curtain.

Leaning up, Rowan caught her mouth in another kiss.  This one far more than a simple peck.  Aelin sighed against him as one hand trailed along his bare chest, her fingers working in soft caresses at his side.

As he deepened the kiss, Rowan sat up and wrapped an arm around Aelin.  He pulled her fully into his lap, fully intending to have a proper morning together when the alarm clock finally went of and that damned dog started another round of howls from outside.  Groaning, Rowan tried keeping her close for just a moment longer.

“Sorry cowboy,” Aelin said breathlessly as she pulled back. “Our child is calling.  And you’re going to be late.”

She brushed her fingers through with a fond smile before getting out of bed.  This time Rowan let her go, though he wasn’t happy about it.  

Aelin threw on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt before she ran downstairs, calling for Fleetfoot the entire way.

In the six months since the blizzard that brought them together, many things had changed.  Normally Rowan would have shied away from it all.  Change never meant anything good.  It meant things would be different, that there was a new reality set forth before him.  And, always one to stay the course, he’d never pursued much beyond what he already knew.

But he supposed the change Aelin wrought within him was just what he needed.  And not just in keeping the family ranch.  But she made him want to be different, to be better.

After he changed, Rowan headed downstairs.  Aelin was outside with Fleetfoot, the golden lab that was supposed to be a herd dog but much preferred human company than goats.  He watched them through the kitchen window as Aelin threw a ball for Fleetfoot to chase.  

The golden sun already illuminated the sky setting everything alight.  Spring came swiftly and full of new opportunities.  And for once, Rowan didn’t dread it.

Even though he was running behind, Lorcan would kick his ass for it, Rowan whipped up a batch of pancakes and already had a few on the griddle by the time Aelin and Fleetfoot scampered back inside.

Fleetfoot pranced around happily and dashed into the kitchen to make sure Rowan knew she was there.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan said as the dog rubbed against one of his legs. “Go ask your momma for treats.”

Aelin instead fixed Fleetfoot’s food dish with the allotted portion of kibble.  Though, Rowan knew the dog would get at least one treat before the hour was out.

While Fleetfoot attacked her breakfast, Aelin came and wrapped her arms around Rowan’s middle.  She pressed her forehead into his back and sighed as she rested against him.

“You didn’t have to make pancakes,” she told him quietly.

Rowan flipped the few that were on the griddle before turning to accept a full hug.  He brushed the escaping bits of hair that flew from her bun out of the way and shrugged.

“I wanted to.”  

“Hmm,” Aelin hummed and pressed up onto her toes to kiss him.  Chaste and sweet, the kiss still held a lingering promise of what exactly she wanted to do to him. “Well, thank-you.  But you should go.  Lorcan’s going to be pissy enough as it is.”

“Yes dear,” Rowan said.

He let Aelin take control over the pancakes and grabbed a protein bar from the fridge before heading out for the day.  He paused when he reached the door looking back at Aelin as she pulled the batch of pancakes from the heat.

“I love you,” he said.

She looked up, blue eyes dazzling with her smile. “Love you, buzzard.”

The door closed softly behind him as he hurried down the porch to his waiting truck.  Beside it was the SUV Lysandra and Aedion had left behind, taking Aelin Audi with them once the snow let up.  The chrome silver was spattered with mud and dust looking as though it perfectly belonged where it was.  The sight brought a small smile to him.

His truck rumbled down the road to the stables where they would already be preparing for the first spring camp of the season.  They were expecting fifteen kids in total with another week planned for the wait-listers that hadn’t gotten in the first time.  

The day after the blizzard, Rowan officially terminated any agreement with Hamel that had been talked about, just as he’d promised Aelin he would.  They’d faced some backlash, but it was remarkable just what a few loyal names could do to help make things right.  Though, Aelin’s own determination in not letting the man have any more control over her said enough.

Now she worked in town at the singular therapy office, providing help to those who wanted.  When she wasn’t there, she was at the ranch helping him and continuing to plan and host events for more kids and individuals seeking help and comfort for their traumas and other mental health concerns.  Just like she’d always wanted.

Rowan drove past the wide-open field of the ranch his family had called home for over a hundred years.  And when he glanced in the rearview mirror at the ranch house fading into view behind him, he hoped that it would remain that way for a few more generations after.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

<3 reblogs appreciated.

[skijumpingf1]

The End (D.Prevc X D.Tande)

This was my way of coping with Daniels retirement. So this oneshot is about the whole situation around the retirement (Domiel´s version). I was on a field trip from uni these past weeks so had to write this on my phone, and it is probably not as good because I hate to write on my phone. But I had like an urge to do this. So enjoy! This is set in my interconnected oneshot series (last part is here) and it is from Domens perspective just to let you know.

Wordcount: 3984

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I am a bit nervous as I stand in the arrival hall at the airport in Ljubljana. Daniel was just training over in Norway and seeing his family. Judging by his mood over the phone at least one of those didn’t go so well. He seemed a bit stressed, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Maybe he hasn’t figured it out yet. I hope it has nothing to do with the fact that he officially moved to Slovenia a few months ago. He seemed happy with it but maybe he got homesick.

After planica it was pretty clear that Daniel would move and not me. Still, I gave it a bit of thought and he spoke to his family. His mom was hesitant, but she loves us together (and me too) and she knew that we were ready for the next step. Our national teams were pretty open about it too. So, we went apartment hunting in the area of the airport. The commute from our home to the airport shouldn’t be high when he would fly that much. To be honest, the first few weeks were a bit like heaven and hell at the same time. Heaven in the way that we could finally spent as much time together as we want. Hell because we went public at the same time and we may have underestimated the attention we would get. Especially here.

We were recognized almost every time we went outside. That lead to us not going anywhere which wasn’t good for Daniels acclimatization here in Slovenia. Eventually the attention got less and less, and we could move on.

Now that Daniel lives with me, it is my regular duty to collect him at the airport. I still love seeing him again. But today I am not just thrilled that my boyfriend is back.

His flight has landed about fifteen minutes ago and customs and stuff is always quick here so he should be out any minute. The door between the secluded area and the world outside opens and a few people in suits step out. I peak behind them. Daniel is coming out next. Automatically I form a smile at him. I spot him first and I get a moment of just looking at him when he doesn’t feel seen. He looks worried. Or stressed. Maybe unsure even. I swallow hard. So, it wasn’t my imagination that something was up. Then he notices me and his face lights up. His steps are getting faster and then he is back with me. I open my arms and pull him into a tight hug. “I missed you so much.”, I greet him.

“I have been gone for just six days.” “Yes, and? I still missed you.” The apartment was painful quiet without him. I even went to my parent’s house for a night. Officially to hang out with my sisters but I was there because I couldn’t stand the emptiness.

“I missed you too.” He presses a small kiss to my lips and takes my hand. I grab his suitcase but not without him complaining that he could do it himself. On the drive back home, he updates me on his family who are planning on visiting in a few months. This makes me think that something on the ski jumping side is up. Which is kinda scary. His from isn’t the best right now but he never acted this down. Something must have happened. Did he fall again and not told me? Or the team? After last season the whole dynamic changed. It wouldn’t surprise me if there would be still tensions inside team Norway after that.

“What’s up?”, I ask when I put a glass of wine in front of his face. We reheated the Lasagne that I made this morning for us (Yes, I actually can do a proper lasagne.) Now he is already sitting down waiting for me to do the same. “Nothing is up. Should be something up?” I take a sip from my glass and sit down. “I don’t know. Tell me.” He frowns a bit. His beautiful face is making a grimace. “I hope it is nothing major, so I didn’t want to tell you. You know the rule. I don’t know if I am really serious yet.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Oh god. He is thinking about retirement. That’s out rule. No talk about retiring if you are not serious.

I know him. The way he acts, the way he talked. He really thinks about it. “But you are serious considering it, aren’t you?” “I mean, it crossed my mind a few times. Especially this past week.” He doesn’t look at me. Daniel studies the tablecloth. I reach over the table and take his hand. “It is okay, Daniel. If you are considering it, talk it through with me.”  He finally looks up and I can spot a few tears in his eyes. I squeeze his hand tighter. “I know how hard Peros retirement was for you. I don’t want to burden you with another potential hard hit.” “You know the worst part was that he didn’t spoke to me, right? So, talk to me. Why are you considering it?” I can’t believe we are actually having this conversation now. In a few years for sure but it is so soon. Obviously, I would respect his decision either way, but I would miss him greatly in world cup.

“After Planica I hoped that every time, I would jump the fear would be getting less overwhelming and at the beginning it was like that. I don’t know what changed but now it feels like the opposite. Every time I am at the gate the fear is getting stronger and stronger again. Maybe it has to do with my bad form and that I am not trusting myself a hundred percent. Maybe it is me getting older.” Gosh sometimes I hate him. Why doesn’t he tell me stuff like this? It must be overwhelming to fear the thing he loves. Conflicting and hurtful. I know how much he loves it. I have seen it first hand. It is a passion we share. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it is to start losing it.

Daniel takes a sip from his wine. The Lasagne is long forgotten. “Do you think it could change again when you get into shape?” He raises his shoulders and sighs. “That’s what I am trying to find out.” I run my hand through my hair. That is a lot to be honest. “Ok.  If you want to talk it through, let me know. And I mean it. If you can’t sleep because of it wake me up.” He raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on my cheek. “I will try but I know that topic is hard for you too.” “Obviously I want you to continue with ski jumping. It means that we can spent so much more time together. Especially since it would be the first season since we are out. But if you just torture yourself with it, let it be. I can understand it. Ultimately ski jumping should bring you more joy than fear.”

Ziga stares worriedly at me when lift my weights. There is really no reason for it. I am doing everything like I do usually. Same weight, same posture. “What?”, I ask my teammate as soon as I set the weights down. “You just look emotional. That is rare.” “Very rare.”, adds Lovro who just finished his rotation on the weights too. I sigh and let myself sit down at the bench. “A lot on my mind recently.”, is my vague answer to the unasked question. “Care to elaborate?” I actually would but it is not my thing to share. So, I couldn’t. Also, it wasn’t like Daniel made up his mind in the last two days. Even though I think I know in which direction he will decide. Subconsciously he knows he can’t continue. But he needs to figure it out himself.

“Nope. I don’t want to elaborate.” “Ah, it is Daniel. Do you want to propose? I mean I think you guys are endgame, but you just moved in together. Maybe wait at least half a year.”, Timi chimes in. My eyes widen. Proposing and marriage can wait a few more years. Until we are comfortable living together. “No, I am not proposing. It just complicated stuff. Stuff that I can’t really talk about now.”  My teammates look not sacrificed but that is not my problem. “Don’t you think Daniel would be okay with you talking about it with your friends? I mean he knows how teams work. He probably talks about you with his teammates as well.” Normally I would agree but this is a sensitive topic. Daniel isn’t sure yet. And I don’t want him to get pressure from the guys since he trains with us quite often. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk about it with you guys.” I wink at them and stand back up. Lovro rolls his eyes. “Idiot.”

When I come home a few hours later. Another car is parked in front of the house. A car that I am pretty familiar with. What is Peter doing here? Did I forget that we were supposed to babysat today? Normally Peter would remind me twice before he brings his kids to our home. Slowly I enter the airy apartment that always reminds me of Daniels flat in Oslo. “I know it is a hard decision, but I don’t think it is a decision anymore.”, I hear my brother speaking. Oh. Seems like Danny invited my brother to talk about his potential retirement. Judging by Peros last sentence he also thinks that Daniel already made up his mind.

“I am home.”, I call out loudly to make my presence know. It was only fair, and I don’t want to spy on boyfriend. I take off my jacket while I hear rumbling in the living room. Seconds later Daniel is standing in the small hallway. A half smile on his lips. He is wearing jeans. Probably because Peter is over. Normally he prefers sweats at home. Or just boxers, my favourite choice. He closes the distance between us and puts an arm around my torso to pull me in. “Hei.”, he whispers. We are so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. I lean in and kiss him softly. As soon as I wrap my arms around him, I can hear a mumbled noise. Peter. I almost forgot he is here too. Reluctant, I let go of my boyfriend.

“Hello Peter.” My brother is standing in the doorway and has a smile on his lips. He is always so weird about Danny and me. He still looks so ... proud, I guess. As if he still couldn’t believe it. “I don’t want to annoy you guys any longer. Daniel if you want to talk again, I am free most of the time.” Peter pats me on the shoulder when he passes us on the way to wardrobe. “Or you could stay for dinner. If Mina doesn’t mind of course. Daniel made Kjøttboller.” Both of them look at me in surprise. It was not typical for me at all to spend more time with Peter than I needed. Especially outside of our childhood home. Mum hosts a Dinner once a week since I moved out. Whenever we could, Tuesdays were spent there. Recently I used this to speak with Peter more. It is weird but I miss him around. Apart from the dinner I only see him at hand overs for babysitting.

“If it wouldn’t burden you, I would love to try whatever Daniel made.”, Peter replies. “Don’t expect too much. There just meatballs.”, says Daniel and than he presses as short kiss to my lips.

“Do you have time to fly to Norway soon?” We are both not sleeping that night. He didn’t tell me that he is going to retire yet. But I know he knows that I know. If that makes sense. Daniel probably hasn’t said it out loud yet. Not even to himself. Saying something makes something more official. It is like when you say I love you for the first time. It is a big step that can’t be taken back. Nevertheless, the unspoken words are hanging between us. Both too restless to sleep because of it.

“I am going to Wisla. But I could fly to Norway before or after that.”, I answer his question. His hand is running over my chest. It is dark so I can’t really see him, but I think he is sitting a bit up. “I need you there when I tell people. Without you I can’t do it.” “Of course. Tell me when to book flights and I will do the rest.” I swallow hard. Just don’t start to cry, Domen. Daniel is now living here. I will see him more often now since he doesn’t need to go back to Norway that often. And Danny will probably come to a few competitions at least. I close my eyes. “I am proud of you.”, I say and try to hide my trembling voice. “Don’t you think it is cowardly to just give up? To just retire?” There it is. Retire. Fully officially spoken. I turn to my side to face him. I trace his hand on my chest and take it into my hand. “I think it is brave that you know when to stop and to leave the world you have known forever.” It is quiet on the other side of the bed for a few moments. “Thanks, I needed to hear this.” “I love you, Daniel. Of course, I know what you need and now you need a big cuddle session.” As I speak, I wrap my arms around him and pull him into my side. “I love you too.”

The whole flight to Oslo, Daniel squeezed my hand so bad that I almost asked him if he changed his mind. But the look of relief on his face when he realized that he wouldn’t need to jump this time he was back in Norway, made me realize that he was just scared. Scared of what his family and team will say.

The first stop of our list is his family. Trude Tande breaks out in tears as soon as her son announces his retirement. Tears of relief, I should add. Daniel told me once that she always is nervous watching him jump but after Planica it got worse. After we left his family home, we get to his trainer. The only time Daniel said it makes more sense to be alone when he tells someone. So, I wait in the car. He is already in there for half an hour. I don’t know if it’s long or short for this kind off conversation. I never had one myself and I never occurred to me to ask my brothers about their talks with our coaches. I run my hand through my hair while I text Nika to ask how she has been doing. Our schedules didn’t really align the past couple of weeks, so I just saw her once. I would probably have to wait a few hours for a reply since she is in the gym right now.

I look at the watch in the car. Now it has been 40 minutes. At what point should I go in and storm into the office? An hour? Just as I open the car door, Daniel comes out of the building. His eyes puffy and cheeks red. I slam the car door behind me and take a step towards him. He wraps his arms immediately around me when I reach him and buries his face in my neck. “Everything will be alright.”, I say because I don’t know what else to say. Daniel is clinging onto me, and I brush lightly over his back. “It was just so hard seeing the petty look on his face.”

We stand there for a while. I don’t know for how long exactly. At some point his cries get less and less. “Are you okay getting in the car?”, I ask him. He nods quietly and I let him go but without really letting him go. I still hold his hand until he is sitting in the passenger seat. Before I close the door, I give him a small kiss. I take a deep breath outside the car. It hurts so much seeing him like this. We both know it is the right decision, but ski jumping was such a big part in his life. Of course it hurts.

“Should I call the guys and cancel?”, I speak when we finally reached Daniels flat. He invited his teammates and a few old friends to his apartment in Oslo, which he kept until now. It is time to tell them about the retirement as well but after the conversation with his trainer I don’t know if it is the right thing to do today. Some of his teammates are on the way to Wisla as well and booked their flights over Oslo to be here. But I am sure they would understand if he would cancel. “No. I think I have to do this today and I want them to know.” While I nod, I wrap my arms around his torso. He is too restless to sit down, but I trap him near the couch where I sit. He puts his hands over mine and breaths in. Finally, the nervous energy leaves. “Do you want a shot maybe? Or a glass of wine? Beer?” My boyfriend turns inside my arms until he faces me. I open my legs for him and invite him to take a step closer to me. He runs a hand through my hair. “I have a better idea to get the energy out.”, he smirks. “You know the guys are coming in an hour, right? And we need to do the food.” I know logically that it isn’t a good idea, but I let my hand run down his spine until I reach his ass. “Strong words for someone who is practically forcing me onto his lap.” “Force of habit.”, I reply while I put more force in to get him on top of me. He chuckles. “We make it quick.”

 Daniel looks so much relaxed when the doorbell rings. While I put the last mini pizzas in the oven, he opens the door. Andres Fannemel is the first to arrive. He is already retired and not much around in the ski jumping community at the moment. I probably haven’t seen him in at least two years. But Daniel and him kept close contact. “If you want something to drink, Domen is in the kitchen and will get you something. I just put some music on.”, speaks Daniel and the hallway.

I can hear the steps of the Norwegian and swiftly put the last utensils in the cupboard. “Domen.”, nods Anders when he enters the kitchen. “Hey Anders. How is it going?” The retired ski jumper shrugs. I don’t think he is particularly fond of me. Maybe he thinks it was my fault that we took so long to make our relationship public or maybe he just doesn’t like me. But it has gotten better of the years. “Good actually. How are things with you?” “Still trying to figure my form out. Apart from that everything is relatively fine.” Apart from the fact that all my close people in world cup chose to retire. First Cene, then Mac (who just took a break but somehow hasn’t been back), of course Peter and now Daniel. “Are you coping without Peter in training?” “It has been harder than I thought but it is okay. I am a bit closer to my other teammates now.” I take a glass out and give it to Anders. He looks suspicious at it. “Behind you are the drinks.” “And how are you coping with this?” He pours himself a coke into the glass and leans against the table. “With what?”, I reply hesitantly. A smirk is building on Anders face. “It is kind of obvious. Never have I ever seen that Daniel hosts a team dinner and the way he spoke about ski jumping the last few weeks. You forgot that I am already retired. I know what leads to this decision. So, how are you coping with Daniels retirement?”  

Daniel pops into the kitchen. “Rob just texted that he and the others are almost there. The flight from Trondheim was delayed.” Just as he speaks the doorbell rings, and he is out of the door again. Anders still looks awaiting at me. “For him it is the best decision, and I am happy for him. Personally, I would want him to continue but not under those circumstances. Luckily, we live together now. Without that I would be way more stressed about this.”

Daniels flat is packed with ski jumpers and ex ski jumpers. I get a few surprised glances when Dannys teammates realize that I am also here. It is uncommon that I would join a team get together from team Norway. I mean I have done it from time to time but not regularly. But this one is a Daniels place, so I don’t think it is too strange. But it raises suspicions. Robert takes one look at Daniel when he arrives, and I know that he could tell like Anders. It is the way his gaze softens when he picks up on the energy of Daniel and me.

“So, Daniel, why are we here? What’s up?”, says Marius once everyone is settled in with drinks. My gaze shoots up my boyfriend who is already looking at me. I give him a warm smile and lean a bit against him. Again, I am sitting on the couch, and he is standing. This is our thing now apparently. He sets his hand on my shoulder and holds himself steady. Daniel looks up at his friends. I do the same. Some look worried, some look curios. Anders looks proud. “Ehm, I invited you guys over to officially tell you that I am retiring.” I can feel the way he tenses through his hand on my shoulder. I lay my hand on top his and wait on the reaction of his teammates. Robert is the first to speak. “Daniel it was a pleasure.”, he stands up and gives my boyfriend a hug. “I don’t know what to say. My god, Danny.”, Halvor follows. A few seconds later Daniel is surrounded by his teammates in a big group hug.

Next day is the day of the official public announcement. The team thought it would be fitting to shoot the video at the holmenkollen hill. I must agree that the location is perfect. It still is the last place where Daniel won. I am standing behind the camera and watch my boyfriend prepare. The whole night he was up to find words. “Okay Daniel. When ever you are ready.” And then he begins. He is more pulled together than I thought. A proud smile appears on my face. When our gazes meet, he nods barely visible. “I have given this decision a lot of thought. There is a mental barrier that remains after my fall in Planica, the fear has grown bigger than the joy of jumping.” I smirk when I hear a version of my words from when he told me.

When he is done, he takes a few steps in the direction of the hill. I follow him. Daniel looks up the hill with a smile laugh. “I can’t believe this is it. This is really the end.”

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

sped here at the speed of light to demand to know what "of claws and spiderwebs" is about. such a cool name it is entirely possible i am obsessed already.

ive been DYING to talk abt this

its a spider-man au and it was inspired by across the spider-verse (i have been obsessed w those films since 2018 soo)

i don’t follow the movies’ plot so it’s not really spoiler-y but i’ll explain everything under the cut!

OK SO

basically the story revolves around the black brothers (no surprise here): the black family used to be a big industry in the technological field, but after being caught selling weapons to villains, sirius and regulus’ parents (along w many other important and rich people) were arrested, and the company was shut down.

sirius and regulus ended up living w alphard (who used to be the mind behind the greatest inventions before he left the company, when business started to get shady), and although they struggle w money, alphard wants them to have the best education possible, so they go to prestigious schools (sirius studies physics in uni w james and peter and they’re all besties, regulus is still in high school but has amazing grades)

BUT!!!

one day regulus found out uncle alphard was actually a criminal, the prowler, and that’s how he could afford to support his two boys. however, when alphard’s health started to quickly deteriorate, regulus decided that, to let his brother have the future he deserved, he was going to take his uncle’s place in the world of crime. regulus and alphard begin to work together, making technologically advanced gadgets for the prowler and getting that bag!!

(alphard despised the idea of making regulus into a criminal, but reg is set on his idea and the two bond over their passion for tech)

in the mean time, sirius went on a school trip to visit a (for now unnamed) lab and got bitten by a radioactive spider: he got powers, showed them to james and peter as soon as he could, and decided to become spider-man and fight crime!!

of course, this will lead sirius to fighting his own brother, so that’ll be fun…

A FEW MORE THINGS!!

euphemia is captain of the police, and james admires her a lot, so he starts to investigate on his own: he notices that the prowler’s tech is very similar to some prototypes the black family was working on, so he wants to help sirius discover the criminal’s identity…not sure how well that will go for him

remus and lily work in the lab sirius was visiting when he got bitten as apprentices and the spider was their secret experiment

reg is a skater boy

bellatrix was thought dead, but actually she had also become a criminal under the name of doc ock (my woman is deranged and a tech nerd sooo)

[arionawrites]

dear big sister,

your birthday was this month. i didn't say happy birthday. i don't know how to reach out to you. i don't know how to talk to you. i don't remember the last time you said happy birthday to me. i don't know if you remember when it is. i don't want to assume that you don't but i can't think of a single reason to believe that you do.

dear big sister,

i have two little siblings. i don't know if i should say that i have two little siblings or if i should say that we have two little siblings. one of them is nine and the other is five. neither of them recognize your name when i say it. they are my entire world. they give me reason. grandma called them my kids when i was visiting her last week. i helped raise them as much as i could before moving out and continue to do what i can while going to see them as often as possible. i call. i chaperone field trips. i show up.

dear big sister,

i wish you had shown up. when i was twelve my entire life fell apart and all i wanted was something familiar. you were still familiar despite having moved out two years prior and me hardly seeing you since. i wanted you there, even if it was just to pick me up and take me away for a few hours. i would have loved those hours with you.

dear big sister,

i almost died when i was fourteen. i know you know this. i know dad told you. i know he said no to visitors because i was in the ICU and it was scary and touch-and-go and his intentions were good, he didn't want to overwhelm me or himself or my (our?) little sister, who wasn't even a year old at the time and couldn't understand why she wasn't allowed to lay in bed with me like i always let her do at home. i know you made a post on facebook. i left the hospital. that post was the only thing i got from you.

dear big sister,

i am the big sister now and it is the best thing that has ever happened to me. i love them with every single piece of who i am. i would do anything in the world to make them feel happy and loved.

dear big sister,

i find it hard not to wonder why you don't love me like that.

dear big sister,

congratulations on getting married. i'm sorry i'm only saying this now. i'm sorry that i'm not saying it to you directly. i didn't know you were getting married until after it already happened.

dear big sister,

i still remember you calling me my senior year of high school and saying you would love to go to my graduation. it was the first time i had spoken to you in at least a year or two. when the call ended, i sat down and i cried because i was so happy. why didn't you call again to tell me you couldn't make it? you had my number. it would have sucked to hear after getting so excited, but i would have understood, and i would have preferred to know ahead of time, even if it would have hurt.

dear big sister,

i can't imagine not going to my (our?) little siblings graduations. i can't imagine not seeing them on their birthdays. i can't imagine spending the holidays without them. going more than a week without seeing them makes me anxious.

dear big sister,

is it me? is that why you never felt like this? is it my fault that you don't love me like i love them? did i do something wrong?

dear big sister,

i don't know when (or if) i'll get married, but i will invite you even though i don't know if you'd actually come. i want you to be there.

dear big sister,

i wanted you to be at my graduation, too.

dear big sister,

i told my therapist that i want to process my traumas and get better, and then i told her that i was scared, too. when she asked me why, i told her that i'm afraid that part of getting better means having conversations i'm afraid to have, conversations that could put strain on my relationships. that i'm scared to track down your number and give you a call and try to explain all of this and have you get angry, get upset, or, worst of all, confirm my worst fears of you having never seen me as a sister at all. my therapist told me that i don't need to have those conversations. she said that i need closure and that there are ways to find closure that don't involve that confrontation.

dear big sister,

i am writing this to you and i hope you never see it. i am trying to find closure to this constant gnawing resentment that only serves to make me feel guilty for being angry. i do not want to be angry. i do not want to resent you.

dear big sister,

happy late birthday.

[fanficfish]

no ones doing this so i will

random purrfect tale headcanons for Oliver (best boy)

Probably has a list of all the best restaurants in the area in his phone's notes app. Ranked, witth details.

has totally also chased his housemates out of the house when they start committing kitchen crimes. He gets nervous when Boss Mo starts trying to cook.

almost joined the swim team during his short stint as a student before realizing he'd have to shower literally every day and hell nah he ain't doing that, but damn were they persuasive.

The MC originally got him into some not-ripped clothes, but he still kept his old stuff since it was actually decent once ran through the wash (he spent most of his time as a cat before, after all). Later, Boss Mo dragged him out to a clothing store and then Bangs did the same thing, because "Oliver those shirts look so out-of-season/worn/you've worn the same thing three times this week, do you not have any other clothes?" MC thinks it's kinda fun seeing what he comes home with, because surprisingly Oliver has reasonable taste. MC's still the one picking out half of his outfits though.

haa been freeloading off the MC'a streaking service account to watch Oliver and Company and Ralph Breaks the Internet.

Also got into those travel shows and has a list of places he wants to visit. He really wants to visit Greece. For the cats.

Sometimes he lounges in the window or on places he probably shouldn't be, like a cat, but in his human form. He has broken a shelf and fallen out a ground floor window this way.

He's also gotten very distracted by butterflies before. The dwy he went to school and they took a field trip to the butterfly sanctuary was a time.

When people ask about his ears he usually goes with a "oh yeah, aren't they cool? I think it's a pretty popular trend" then goes on his way. A few times he's said "i'm a cat obviously" with a deadpan look and people weirdly just accept that his quirky.

he's a regular at the fishery and it's now a whole thing where he and the workers are very chill with each other.

he still doesn't like rain a lot but the snow is interesting, especially fresh snow. He'd rather not be in it but he thinks it looks very pretty.

has a wecat blog that's just food and cat pics. His main salmon acount is for regular studd.

[chronicangel]

I actually think it would be really funny if Gotham had a reputation for being like, a really cool and fun place that you want to go.

Like I know the running gag in fandom (and a little bit in comics, too) is that Gotham is a cesspit, famed for its insane vigilantes and impossibly high rates of violent crime, but when I think about real-life cities with very high crime rates and sort of a smoggy aesthetic, they are often places that people want to go.

Like, New Orleans is in the top ten cities in the world for homicide rates according to the data from 2022 (all the other 10 are in Mexico, and I can't speak as much to them because I've never been, but I at least recognize Tijuana, which is #5, as a place other people seem to refer to as a tourist destination for Americans), and yet there is a very real and very large crowd of people fully devoted to going there every year for Mardi Gras. I know multiple people who fantasize about living in the French Quarter, and when my grandparents took me there once as a teenager, I remember driving around with my grandmother to look at all the old, pretty buildings.

People famously think of New York City as a dangerous city with high crime rates (although the last few years have really reflected those crime rates going down), and yet it is also one top 10 of the most popular cities in not only the US but the world for tourism. My Dad lived in upstate New York from 2021 until this year, and just moved to North Jersey (significantly closer to the city), and for a while, he would rent a hotel in Times Square for a weekend every time I visited. If a band or artist is touring the US, it would practically be a crime to skip NYC, and there are the huge drawing forces of tourist destinations like the Statue of Liberty and Broadway. In fact, I lived halfway across the country from NYC and I still knew people who went on high school field trips there with their theatre programs.

I grew up in a college town in Southwest Missouri, and for most of my young adult life, I must have gone to St. Louis at least a half-dozen times a year. We went on a field trip to Six Flags when I was in 8th grade. I took a mini-vacation there in July 2023 where I paid for an Airbnb for a week and went to the zoo three or four days in a row so I could really take my time with it. I went on a day-trip in May of this year with a friend from work where we walked around the city to the tune of 19,000 steps. And all of that despite the fact that I spent my entire life hearing about the gang violence permeating the city, and the fact that St. Louis was ranked as the most dangerous city in the United States for several years in my lifetime.

I just moved to Philadelphia, which is in the top 50 cities in the world for homicide rates (see the link on New Orleans), because I've been coming here since I was a teenager and it's always been a home away from home to me. And when I went on my first walk around the neighborhood after moving here, I proudly bragged to my friends about how I had only been catcalled five times, two of which were by the same dude (some guy on my block who yelled at me at the beginning and the end of my walk) and one of which was by a child, so statistically that was a pretty good walk.

My point with all of this is that there are lots of very dangerous places in the world that people still idolize and want to go to. Within the lore of DC Comics, Gotham is a city that was first established in the early 17th century, with beautiful Gothic architecture and the Delaware Bay framing its edges. It would also be the largest city in New Jersey by a long shot, and I can imagine that with the real-world affectionate rivalry between New York and Jersey, citizens of the state would loudly defend Gotham as the superior city to NYC, cesspit or no (the same way that Missourians will hold Kansas City over Kansas' head until the end of time, or until they give back what's rightfully ours).

I imagine people from all sorts of places and all walks of life would go on two-week trips to Gotham during summer vacation to see whatever iconic landmarks stuck out to them, or maybe even to try to catch a glimpse of Batman and the other famous vigilantes-- I think if I heard that there was a vigilante in one of the big cities only a few hours away from my hometown, I probably would have been drawn to it like a magnet the second I was old enough to decide where to spend my breaks.

Also, just looking at it realistically, most of Gotham's crime happens at night and in very specific parts of the city-- which is also true of big cities in the real world. So it's extremely likely that a tourist could spend weeks or even months in Gotham and still never be directly subject to the sort of crime that Batman and Robin and whoever else might be there at the time are dealing with. I can easily imagine plenty of folks from Metropolis deciding to take a day trip to Gotham, which is just across the bay and would logically only take a couple hours tops to get to (assuming there's an operational ferry, and why wouldn't there be?), walking around the city looking at gargoyles and trying famous restaurants, and then packing on up and going back to Metropolis to say, "Yeah, people talk a big talk, but I've been to Gotham and it really isn't that scary."

You know, the way we all do with real cities.

[poupeesdecirque]

Travel Blog - Büsum (North Sea) - 20/21/22 September 24

Took me the whole week to finally have time to write the travel blog for my trip to the north sea. I can tell it was an amazing weekend and a lot of things settled for me, Mom & I had time to talk and we didn't have each other much this year bc it was either me or her traveling or working.

I didn't expect work to mess with me so hard that I wasn't even able to think of putting the photos onto the laptop... I am currently trying to work through a huge backlog. But more important if you are interested read further, a post with some HQ impressions of the trip is queued up and will be posted later on :)

Friday

It was not the first time for us to travel to Büsum, i like the small town it's very relaxed and I love the wattenmeer, i love just walking there and therefore I was looking forward a lot to this trip.

Did you know the area there is known for cabbage? So yes that field is a lot of ... cabbage.

Arrived we were able to check into the Hotel and visited a restaurant that had opened last year in the place a very good pancake place was once before. They had closed in spring though as there was a fire ... I am glad they were able to reopen.

After eating a Kaiserschmarrn we walked around the town. We had planned to take photos later on so we decided it would be best to check restaurants for dinner while taking a stroll. The weather was beautiful and reserving a table was the smarter choice here.

There were truly quite a few interesting things to see... like those french bulldogs (if you take a photo you were asked to donor something for animals which we gladly did).

Then we went out for photos. I took overall 5 dolls with me, can you spot which one got photos here :D?

The day ended with us having dinner at a rather traditional place. This is only the second time I had fish without batter... I am proud I have progressed so far from being a picky eater. It was quite late already, we fell into bed.

Saturday

As you might know I am an early bird... I took the time and went out for a small walk to enjoy the sunrise a bit before we attended the hotel buffet.

The hotel we stayed in is over 100 years old and the walls are decorated with 100.000 shells from all over the world, it was impressive.

My only complain here is that the serving sizes were itty bitty small... like 1 serving of yogurt was 1 teaspoon.. for someone who loves their yogurt it felt weird to get more than two servings (which was still only two teaspoons) :') the buns were like 1/4 of a normal sized one.

Anyways after breakfast we had planned to hike. Morning the Watt would be ours as there was supposed to be ebb and in the afternoon we decided to walk in the other direction this time as Mom never went to Deichhausen.

Inbetween we went to a Cabbage festival, met Mom's cousin and got some snacks. We had to hike over the Deich and there were several herds of sheep munching through the grass.

In Deichhausen we just relaxed for a while before we went back over the Deich and were greeted by a lots of sheep again.

There was also the Manga Day and we went to a Bookshop (I actually restricted myself oh boy so many good books) and I got those three previews for free, it's the first few chapters each. I haven't had the time to read them yet.

Here is my snack from inbetween and what I got for dinner. The Burger is with a potato-vegetable patty, topped with halloumi and roasted veggies. Side was Coleslaw and sweet Potato Fries. If you know me... you know I need to end my day with something sweet.

Then we watched the sunset once more (top photo). I was incredibly beat as I managed to walk almost 35k steps that day and even watching TV in the evening was too loud for me.

Sunday

The last day came way too soon as we only had the half day to hike once more, then we wanted to check out an old car/US car meet up, and ofc the drive home.

Once more itty servings at the breakfast. Can we talk about the croissants? The cereals next to them are NORMAL sized... so tiny.

We took a long stroll in the Watt before we headed to the meet up.

It was really interesting but I have to say the noise, the people and the sunlight lead to a sensory overload for me, I dodged two panic attacks and just wanted to flee :') so we did.

Before we went home we OF COURSE had to buy some cabbage. ... there is a lot of cabbage on my menu this week.

Traveling back took forever because of traffic and blocked roads (4 hours for a 2,5 hour distance). I'm just glad the next time I travel to Hamburg will be by train.

[apathetic-dry-rot]

Wilting Nerium- Chapter 4: Kill Bill

CW: Mental Breakdown/Panic Attack, Marijuana Usage, Gun Purchasing.

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the content in this fanfic or game in real life!

Lawrence Oleander belongs to Gatobob

NOW PLAYING: Kill Bill- SZA

It was a slow day at the reserve, our last three stags all accounted for, their does and fawns following behind them. Milo’s mate had passed on due to grief, the pair unable to have conceived any offspring before Milo’s death.

Most of our visitors were traveling families, or weathered retired folk who wanted the silence of nature. There was the occasional school field trip, too, but I never really stayed around for those unless absolutely necessary, I stuck to monitoring the animals.

It was 4:50 in the afternoon, and I was packing up the last of my things when the bell on the visitor’s center’s front desk chimed. My eyes rolled into the back of my head.

I just wanna go the fuck home, come on, are you serious right now?

“One second!”

I took a deep breath before walking out to the desk, putting on my best customer service smile. This was usually Lola’s job, but she was sick, so I had to cover for her.

“Thank you for visiting the St. Lawrence River Nature Sanctuary, what can I help you with today?”

I took in the appearances of the two girls in front of me.

One had her hair in a braid, falling over her right shoulder, with a yellow tank top that brought out the yellow highlights in her baby blue eyes, while the other girl’s matching blonde hair was falling loose around her shoulder, rectangular glasses perched on her nose, and a loose short-sleeved blue flannel hung on her slim frame.

Probably twins.

The braided one smiled at me kindly, her eyes scrunching up.

“Hi! Um, my sister Laurel and I were wanting to enroll in the volunteer program? We tried to come in yesterday but you guys were already closed.”

“Uh, yeah sure, um…”

I began hunting for the applications, Lola’s organizational skills being questionable at best.

After a few moments, and ruffling through a multitude of drawers, I pulled out the applications and a sign-in sheet.

“In, uh, In addition to the applications, I’m gon- ‘scuse me, gonna need your names on this sign-in sheet so the actual front desk person knows you stopped in today, I’m covering her position.”

The one with glasses- Laurel, nodded, while the braided one spoke up again, reaching for the sign-in sheet.

“Oh, yeah no problem!”

She scribbled something down, passed it to her sister, who did more of a scrawl, before passing it back to me. I set the sheet down on the desk, wiping my hands together awkwardly.

“So, um, when you guys are done, just, uh, just ring the bell and I’ll come get the applications.”

I gave them my name, and told them to holler if they needed anything, not missing the way their eyes lit up with recognition, looking between themselves and back at me with a look of heavy sympathy.

No, not sympathy, it was pity. Fuck. Here comes the spiel.

“You’re the one from the news, right?”

I cleared my throat, nodding, having my response ready.

I don’t remember anything after leaving the Jackalope until I woke up in the woods.

“Um… yeah. Yeah, that’d be me.”

I let out a half-hearted awkward chuckle, shifting back and forth on my feet.

The pair looked at each other again, then back at me.

“And you really don’t remember anything?”

I cleared my throat, scratching at my scalp impulsively.

“I mean, I remember blacking out in an alley after some guy swung at me, and I remember pain… a lot of it. But other than that, no. Not a thing. Woke up in the woods tied to a tree and left for dead.”

They looked at me with varied degrees of horror on their faces, Laurel speaking up in a hushed tone.

“So, the cops literally can’t do anything?”

I shook my head no, watching as their expressions fell into shock and disbelief.

“That’s such bullshit! It’s incredibly unfair, shouldn’t they at least be trying to find anything?”

I shrugged noncommittally.

“All they were able to do was I-D the guy that swung on me, but they were never able to track him down, so they gave up.”

“Oh my god, that’s awful.”

I shrugged, indifferent.

“That’s the way the police system is. Nothing I can really do about it.”

Lie.

The girls exchanged sympathy with me before finishing their applications and leaving with enthusiastic goodbyes.

I went back to grab my bag, stopping at the front desk to organize Lily and Laurel’s papers before I locked up. The papers crinkled in my hands and I froze at the names on the papers, my breath catching in my throat.

Lily and Laurel Oleander.

The venture home was a haze, people blurring together and time feeling nonexistent as I meandered through the streets to my flat, locking the door behind me as the dust settled. I leaned back into the door with a heavy sigh, sinking to the floor and curling into a ball. The sun was setting as I sat there for what felt like ages, my eyes unfocused and hot tears slowly dripping down the apples of my cheeks and off my chin.

I didn’t move until it was almost completely dark, standing up on trembling legs and opening a small drawer in my desk where I kept a sparse collection of pre-rolled joints that I had made shortly after the party, reaching in and grabbing a random one and a green lighter, sinking onto my bed and lifting the joint to my lips and lighting the end.

I just want it all to stop. The thoughts, the fear, the anxiety, everything.

After a few minutes of smoking, time seemed to fuzz in a more positive way as my brain was enveloped in a dream-like haze.

After the joint was done I grabbed my keys and wallet, and once again left my apartment into the near empty streets.

Winter seemed like a blessing, the people clear out earlier, when the sun goes away.

I wandered for a bit, finding myself in a slightly more populated area of the town where some stores and antique shops were nestled in a sort of strip mall.

I’d kill for a burrito right about now.

Hungrily, my eyes scanned the area, a scarce amount of food trucks remaining. I zeroed in on my target- a random Mexican truck.

Fucking bingo.

A few short minutes, and $12.79 later, I found myself on a bench with the most mouth-watering, greasy, divine burrito I’d ever laid eyes on in my hand. I took a bite and nearly moaned, grease from the ground beef and sour cream falling onto my face.

This is the best burrito I’ve ever had in my entire fucking life.

It felt like nearly instantly that I had scarfed the tiny piece of heaven down and wiped my face clean, the weed haze dimming slightly, as I took another look at my surroundings. There was only one store that was left open that caught my eye.

Tom’s Gun and Pawn Shoppe.

I slammed the door to my apartment shut, hinges crying as I walked over to my desk, setting down my personal belongings and the brown paper bag onto the faux wooden surface. Plopping into the chair, I sighed, rubbing my face before holding my hand on my mouth, staring at the bag in front of me. Slowly, and as if on their own, my hands reached in and wrapped around the two items inside, the box in my right hand making a small jingle sort of clinking noise as I moved it around and held the two items in my hands. I paid no mind to the box and dropped it gently onto the desk before cradling the other, significantly more important item, in my hands as I contemplated if what I was doing was even considered to be in sound mind.

A Beretta 96.

Word Count: 1323

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Couch Confessions and Heavy Petting

🖤 All Previous Parts Here 🖤

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO/Omegaverse dynamics (knots, slick, vaguely confusing reproductive explanations), mpreg, mentions of murder, mentions of fighting, sad boys, feeling left out, mentions of masterbation with a hairbrush, mentions of choking kink, masterbation, heavy petting, boys in love 🖤 Rating: explicit

They never ended up getting the call that Dom's father was dead but they found out what happened through the fucking media pretty quickly. Just a few days later it was plastered online but not in the way they thought it would be. 'Justin Harrison, Machine Gun Kelly's Future Father-in-Law Arrested in Hospital' was the last thing they assumed to see and the punk felt… mildly insulted to be honest. Was he chopped liver?

It seemed as if he'd crawled his ass inside the store to call for help and there must have been something obvious or perhaps the police were just waiting for an excuse, it wasn't like the bastard had been all that careful in his work. Justin was caught for fraud and forgery, even a connection with a mob of sorts. Dominic had been overwhelmed and at least a little calmed. They wouldn't have to deal with him for a while and even though he didn't snitch about who nearly took his life, the kid's family knew. He'd never been so harassed.

It had been two weeks since their trip and at first the singer had been flying high on finally getting revenge but after the calls started that pride began to fade to pain. It wasn't just his family, lots of rags wanted to interview him and eventually Gavin came for a visit to take his phone and set him up with a new one. It was the first time Kells liked the guy but he had to get everything off the device first. He couldn't lose all those memories and job or not he didn't trust anyone with images of his lover nude- and they both had plenty. Once that happened everything felt quiet again, especially with Tom fielding the social media bullshit.

Colson had been holed up in their music room for a few hours, trying to get his own suits off his back, they wanted him to ride the wave and speak out about it. They thought it would be great press since he came from 'the wrong side of the tracks' and was doing so well now. To him it felt like an after school special and that wasn't his vibe. Considering he was still the type to curb stomp an asshole and leave him for dead he didn't think speaking out about crime was right. He was sure it would come to light eventually but for the time being he just wanted to focus on his pack. They were so close to time anyway, he couldn't split focus yet.

When he was finally able to hang up with the men he ran a hand through his hair and wandered out to find his mate. When he didn't find Dom in the bedroom he was worried but of course his beautiful ball of bitch couldn't get far on his own and he found him on the couch, staring dead eyed at yet another news story. There was an oversized hoodie wrapped around him, a thick fuzzy blanket in his lap, and those damn white girl UGGs on his feet. The kid looked comfy but exhausted. "You cold sweetheart?" He hummed, leaning over the back of the sofa to kiss his lover's hair. The stench of depressed omega clogged his senses and a low whine got stuck in his throat. Did he have to remove all forms of media so his fiancé could rest? Shit.

"Yeah. Ain't it freezing?" Dom asked back with a soft tired voice but… fuck no. It was almost his birthday, smack in the middle of summer. Their flat was one of the few places around that actually had air conditioning but they didn't have it too low, the punk shouldn't be shivering that was for damn sure.

Colson sighed and hopped over the couch, bouncing as he landed and he grinned when his partner rolled his eyes. "What?" He huffed, laughing softly. He curled an arm around the kid's shoulders and cuddled close, fully ignoring the shit getting spewed from the news.

"Show off. Rude if ya ask me. I can't move like tha' no more."

"Cool cause I didn't ask. I know it gets you hot having such a badass alpha." He gave him his best cocky smirk which only got a bigger scoff but Dom's lips twitched in a smile and that's all he wanted. "Can we turn this off? You got cartoons here? Come on, just ignore it." He groaned, pressing his cheek to his boyfriend's temple. "Isn't it time to focus on my Jellybeans?"

The look Dom gave him would have shriveled a lesser man, as it was Col still had to swallow a whine. "Yours? YOURS? Tha's jus' it ain't it? We yours, I ain't me own bloody person! I'm an incubator for ya GIANT fucking spawn and a warm 'ole for ya cock. I'm your omega! Not fucking me anymore! 'Ey don't even fucking say me stage name Colson! It's jus' your mate, your every'fin!"

When the rant started to calm Kells arched a brow and pet a palm over the punk's belly. He knew aggression could work up their babes and he worried about any strong emotion starting labor. "You done? You forgot tight hole." The screech in response was immediate and the singer wiggled as if he'd somehow get off the sofa by himself. It was precious but Col just pulled him closer and pressed a loud over exaggerated kiss to his cheek. "Settle your ass down bitch. You're straining so much you're gonna push our kids out early- shiiit. I'm sorry this is happening but guess who's fault it isn't? Mine."

"If you 'adn't beat 'im…" Even as he tried to make the point he felt awful about it. He was proper proud of his daddy for kicking ass and he stopped the sentence short. He wouldn't let his family ruin anything else. Not between them. They'd been doing amazing. It seemed like having a new way to mark up the punk really soothed the fearl beast inside the alpha and seeing the ring of bruises on his own skin made Dom purr. He sighed deep, tears welling his eyes but he laid a palm over the rapper's. "We'd be fucked so fank you. Jus' 'ard."

"Yeah I get it, you're a spoiled little princess and you want to be in the spotlight." The bastard teased and he couldn't help but giggle.

"Fuck tha'! It's awful Cols. I don't know 'ow you 'andle it."

"Once a dirt bag always a dirt bag? Eh, I'm cool with it. This is probably the nicest I've been talked about in years. Especially considering the pedo shit is starting back up again." Even though he tried to shrug and act like none of it affected him, Dom could feel the pain. See the dark circles under his lover's beautiful blue eyes.

"Wait- cause of me? Fuck tha' I'm not tha' baby face. I'm a full grown man. Ya know 'ere you wouldn't even get shite for calling a seventeen year old 'ot. It's all fucking bollocks." He didn't mean to bring up old drama, it just slipped out and the alpha turned to look at him with wide eyes.

"Babe… how the fuck do you know about that?"

Dom swallowed hard and looked away, his lip rolling between his teeth. "Um, it was brought up in an article?"

"Bull-fucking-shit doll, you were just surprised they were using you to call me out. How do you know about that?"

"I… maybe… I'm sure I jus' seen it around. Shut up." He huffed, his cheeks pink. He tried to squirm away again but Col wouldn't let him. He kept him close. "I maybe 'ad a crush alright? Been a fan a lot longer 'an you." He didn't know why he was tearing up again but he felt exposed being honest. It wasn't like he was hiding it on purpose but it made him feel unequal in their relationship and he was already feeling that.

"How long?" Colson couldn't help but ask. He could barely believe it. He knew both his bitch and their photographer roommate used to blast Candy all the time but he just assumed it was something they found after they started messaging each other.

"General Admission." It was barely above a whisper but the kid went limp as if he felt defeated but honestly it was exactly what the rapper needed to hear. "I saw Alpha Omega and… I dunno. 'Ad a crush. You amazing Cols ya know tha'. It was actually um…" He trailed off, pulling his hoodie sleeve up to his mouth to nibble on. The next words were muffled he was so nervous and Kells found him absolutely adorable. "It was the firs' time I got wet."

Whatever sweet heart eyed moment was starting to build between them got shattered with those few words. The alpha's dick twitched in his shorts and he leaned close to his mate, getting right in his face. "Yeah? Bullshit. That couldn't be the first… You were- what? Eighteen?"

Dom dropped his hand and took a deep breath, the vibe between them had shifted and his daddy was in a mood. Sometimes he was almost overwhelming but he loved every moment. God he could taste the man's need. "Me body never worked like it was supposed to. Figured I came out wrong and I'd jus' be a beta wiv an extra 'ole. Docs said it was jus' taking time and Justin was pissed but I was okay wiv it. 'En I saw you and…" He moved closer, their lips so close he could lick him if he wanted. "I got so wet daddy. Got so needy I 'ad to touch me'self."

Col growled, his chest rumbling with it and he reached up to wrap his hand around his lover's jaw. His pulse raced in his chest, all his fears vanishing on a wave of need. He didn't know how he deserved all this but fuck he was thankful. "What did you do?" He rasped, flicking his tongue out to taste the boy's lips and when the punk blushed hotter he licked over his pink cheek.

"Found a 'airbrush-"

"You own a hairbrush?"

"Wanker. If ya don't wanna 'ear…" He trailed off and Kells snapped his fangs close to Dom's ear before he nibbled playfully at the lobe.

The rapper slid a hand down over the blanket, his palm cupping his future wife's hard sweet cock. He slipped the other into his own shorts, fisting his dick as he teased his mate. Dom was talking about masterbation so it just fit. He was just helping because his overly pupped baby momma couldn't do it on his own anymore. That was all. "Tell me."

"Put ya video on repeat-" His voice dropped to a whimper, his hips pushing forward. He could feel himself drenching his briefs and probably the blanket between them. He was never joking when he said only Col could make him feel this way. For anyone else it wasn't the same. "Rolled on me side and put- put um- fuck-" His lover's touch got harder, those long talented fingers rubbing over his cunt as his palm put all the right pressure on his cock. He could hear the way Colson's fist stroked his own and it drove him just a little mad. It always felt like a waste if they didn't finish inside each other.

"Where did you put it?" He demanded. Their play felt almost innocent compared to the way they normally made love. He could still see the dark skin on his future wife's neck, they'd been going hard lately and he meant to take a day off but of course they couldn't. They never could. His pace picked up, he knew they wouldn't last long and they didn't need to. If he got them off quick and dirty they could rest, he wasn't really breaking his vow for a gentle day. He wasn't actually fucking the punk. Right?

"Well first I touched me'self. Me f-fingers! Put two inside me- ohfuckdaddy-" He slurred, a bead of drool rolling down his chin. Colson struck, licking his baby's spit up before he nipped his plush bottom lip and tugged. When he let it go the omega almost broke but he pulled his touch back a little. He wanted the story before he'd let him cum. "In me pussy. Was so tight. So so- mmmfuck! Barely fit. Didn't feel like enough. Wanted to feel you. Oh God alpha-" Dom was shaking, his body trying to roll and grind his dick against his mate's hand.

"I can promise you that hairbrush wasn't it either." He joked, his voice low and desperate but laced with pride.

"Course not. I didn't know. Wanted to 'urt cause I knew you'd be too big." It shouldn't be hot but it so was and Kells had to squeeze the base of his knot to keep from blowing his load too soon. The singer was so into his own pleasure he didn't notice, he just kept going. "Needed to ache for you. From you. Shoved the 'andle deep and fucked me'self- fuck Colson! Fucked me'self 'ard and fast. Was so loud. So wet. Jus' for you. Ever."

That was it, that one vow broke the man and his cock jerked, his knot popping in his fist. White heat spilled over his palm and soaked his boxers till he full body trembled, watching Dom watch him. His rhythm over his mate's pussy faltered but the kid kept squirming and he kept the pressure for him. It wouldn't take much. "Slut. So fucking horny for me. Did you jerk that cute little dick or just play with your cunt?"

Dom flushed, he was swimming in sweat and slick but he didn't care. He was too close to pay attention to anything else. "Firs' time was jus' me cunt. Didn't fink you'd like me cock so- so- fuck! So much-" He could barely talk anymore, he didn't know how Kells was speaking or if maybe they were just that mentally connected that he was reading the alpha's mind.

"Love your dick. It's precious. I'd love to feel it- yeah baby. Can see it. You're close huh? Cum for me." He commanded, panting so hard it was barely louder than a thought but it didn't matter. Dom felt his permission and he shattered for his alpha. Warmth spread through the blanket, his bitch's slick gushing free and drenching everything in its path. He could feel that part of his lover that was barely more than a clit twitching against his palm and he didn't know what gave him more pride, the singer's orgasm now or all the times he'd gotten his boyfriend off before they even met.

Dom moaned as his daddy helped him through his pleasure but the moment he felt overstimulated the man pulled back and started helping him out of everything that was overheating him. "Not cold anymore huh?" He joked and the punk whined back. Of course he wasn't but he was definitely spent. How had they gotten there? How had a conversation about him feeling like he was disappearing end up with him talking about the first time he saw Col?

When he caught his alpha's still red rimmed gaze he felt his belly flip. Did it really matter if anyone else saw him when his daddy only had eyes for him? With his devil he felt more seen than ever before. His mate loved him and his babies would too. If it took the world a little while to catch up that was alright. The only man to ever make him slick himself was just as obsessed with him, the wanker he'd had a crush on for years. He was the omega to the Machine Gun's alpha, nothing could make him feel more special. "You still got that hairbrush?" Kells teased and he rolled his eyes. He couldn't let the bastard see how dick whipped he was for him.

"You filfy Cols." He scoffed, his nose wrinkling but inside he was fighting the biggest smile.

"Yeah yeah. Can't fuck me up bitch. I'm the only fucker that's ever gotten Yungblud wet." He winked, trying to cheer his lover up more but he wasn't lying about the pride. How could that not make him feel incredible? His baby momma was amazing.

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28 @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker if anyone else wants tagged let me know! Hope y'all enjoyed this little... Talk. I know it's more a slice of life chapter but big things are coming, I just want to feel up to giving them the attention they deserve 🖤

[alphynix]

Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 3: Walking With Victorian Beasts

[Previously: the Jurassic and Cretaceous]

The final section of the Crystal Palace Dinosaur trail brings us to the Cenozoic, and a selection of ancient mammals.

Image from 2009 by Loz Pycock (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Originally represented by three statues, there are two surviving originals of the Eocene-aged palaeotheres depicting Plagiolophus minor (the smaller sitting one) and Palaeotherium medium (the larger standing one).

The sitting palaeothere unfortunately lost its head sometime in the late 20th century, and the image above shows it with a modern fiberglass replacement. Then around 2014/2015 the new head was knocked off again, and has not yet been reattached – partly due to a recent discovery that it wasn't actually accurate to the sculpture's original design. Instead there are plans to eventually restore it with a much more faithful head.

These early odd-toed ungulates were already known from near-complete skeletons in the 1850s, and are depicted here as tapir-like animals with short trunks based on the scientific opinion of the time. We now think their heads would have looked more horse-like, without trunks, but otherwise they're not too far off modern reconstructions.

There was also something exciting nearby:

The recently-recreated Palaeotherium magnum!

This sculpture went missing sometime after the 1950s, and its existence was almost completely forgotten until archive images of it were discovered a few years ago. Funds were raised to create a replica as accurate to the original as possible, and in summer 2023 (just a month before the date of my visit) this larger palaeothere species finally rejoined its companions in the park.

Compared to the other palaeotheres this one is weird, though. Much chonkier, wrinkly, and with big eyes and an almost cartoonish tubular trunk. It seems to have taken a lot of anatomical inspiration from animals like rhinos and elephants, since in the mid-1800s odd-toed ungulates were grouped together with "pachyderms".

———

Next is Anoplotherium, an Eocene even-toed ungulate distantly related to modern camels.

(Apparently the sculpture closest to the water is a replica of a now-lost original, recreated from photo references in the same manner as the new Palaeotherium magnum. I can't find a definite reference for when this one was done, though – I'd guess probably during the last round of major renovations in the early 2000s, at the same time as the now-destroyed Jurassic pterosaur replicas?)

Anoplotherium commune is a rather obscure species today, but it was one of the first early Cenozoic fossil mammals to be recognized by science in the early 1800s. Depicted here as small camel-like animals, the three statues are positioned near the water's edge to reflect the Victorian idea that they were semi-aquatic based on their muscular tails.

Today we instead think these animals were fully terrestrial, using their tails to balance themselves while rearing up to reach higher vegetation. Their heads would also have looked a bit less camel-like, but otherwise the Crystal Palace trio are still really good representations.

———

Next is a sculpture that's very easy to miss in the current overgrown state.

Who's that peeking over the bushes?

Going all the way around to the far side of the lake reveals a distant glimpse of the Pliocene-to-Holocene giant ground sloth Megatherium.

A better view of the Megatherium | "Tree Hugger" by Colin Smith (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Fossils of Megatherium americanum had been known since the late 1700s, but the 1854 Crystal Palace statue was still one of the first life reconstructions of this animal. Its anatomy is actually very close to our modern understanding, depicted with correctly inward-turned feet and sitting upright to feed on a tree with its tail acting as a "tripod".

However, we now know it didn't have a trunk-like nose, but instead probably had prehensile lips more like those of a modern black rhino.

Something weird also appears to have happened to the Crystal Palace Megatherium's hands. Early illustrations of the sculpture all consistently show it with the typical long claws of a sloth, but today it's missing its right hand and its left has only a strangely stumpy paw – suggesting that at some point in the intervening 170 years there was an unrecorded crude repair.

———

And finally we end the trail with three Megaloceros, the Pleistocene-to-Holocene "Irish Elk" that's actually neither exclusively Irish nor an elk.

A closer look at the second stag and the doe.

There was originally a fourth giant deer sculpture in this herd, a second resting doe, but it was destroyed sometime during the mid-20th century. The stags also initially had real fossil antlers attached to their heads, but these were removed and replaced with less accurate versions at some point by the mid-20th century.

One of the stags' antlers suffered some damage in 2020, ending up drooping, and since then one antler has either fallen off or been removed.

In the 1850s Megaloceros giganteus was thought to be closely related to deer in the genus Cervus, and so the Crystal Palace reconstructions seem to be based on modern wapiti – specifically in their winter coats, fitting for ice age animals – since both the stags and the doe sport distinctive thick neck manes.

The stags from the other side.

We now know Megaloceros was actually much more closely related to modern fallow deer, and so probably resembled them more than wapiti. Cave art also shows that it had a hump on its shoulders, and even gives us an idea of what its coloration was.

———

…But wait!

There's actually one more thing.

A small statue sitting on the far side of the deer herd, missing its ears, and seemingly representing a Megaloceros fawn.

Except it's actually something very different and very special.

Ceci n'est pas un cerf.

Some recent investigation work revealed some surprising information about the Crystal Palace mammal statues – much like the nearly-forgotten large Palaeotherium, there was originally an entire group of four small Eocene-aged llama-like Xiphodon gracilis that had disappeared from living memory.

There was also no historic record of a fawn with the giant deer, but instead a suspiciously similar-looking sitting sculpture is illustrated among what we now known are the four missing Xiphodon in early records.

An 1853 illustration of the sculpture workshop. The four Xiphodon are shown in the center, directly in front of a Megaloceros stag and doe. (public domain)

Somewhere in the late 19th or early 20th century three of the Xiphodon must have been completely lost, and the remaining individual was misidentified as a fawn and placed with the giant deer herd.

———

Rediscovering a whole extra species among the Crystal Palace statues is exciting, but it also demonstrates just how much of these sculptures' history has gone completely undocumented. 

The mammal statues especially seem to have suffered the most out of the "Dinosaur Court", being often overlooked, neglected, disrespected (at one point the Megatherium was inside a goat pen in a petting zoo!), and subjected to cruder repairs. A total of five original statues are now known to be missing from this Cenozoic section – the original large Palaeotherium, the three other Xiphodon, and the second Megaloceros doe – compared to the two pterosaurs lost from the Mesozoic island.

Hopefully the excellent recreation of the lost Palaeotherium magnum is the start of a long overdue new lease of life and conservation attention for all of the Crystal Palace sculptures. It was disappointing seeing them all in such an overgrown state, and with signs of ongoing disrepair in places such as the plant growing out of the big ichthyosaur's back.

But there has been some resurgence of interest and public attention in the Crystal Palace sculptures over the last few years, so with any luck these historic pieces of early paleoart will survive on to their 200th anniversary and beyond, to keep on reminding us of where things began and how far our understanding of prehistoric life has since come.

[cookinguptales]

and I guess if it's disability pride month and I'm already feeling stroppy

every time someone comes at me with that stupid petition to save the mütter museum it's like

*leans forward into the microphone*

you're asking me, a disability rights writer and strong repatriation supporter, to try and save the collection of stolen bodies displayed in dehumanizing ways that made a fortune off of marketing disabled corpses as quirky and spooky and fun.

you're asking me to support the organization that fucking bribed gravediggers and lied about being a family member so they could steal the corpse of the (currently not concretely identified) saponified woman and put it next to the gift shop where they (at the time) sold soap lady on a rope.

you're asking me to support the organization that let donators "adopt" the skulls in the hyrtl collection without seeing an ounce of irony when they knew, they knew, that most of that collection housed the skulls of the disabled, criminalized, and impoverished. when we have josef hyrtl's notes where he talked about how it was better to steal the corpses of POC because they're cheaper. when they knew that not one of those people had the equivalent of $200 spent on them in their lifetimes, and that their lives often could have been saved if people had, but they also knew that these people were worth more to the museum-going public dead than they were alive.

when we fucking know that josef hyrtl's tomb was encased in concrete so no other grave robbers could return the fucking favor.

you're asking me! to support a museum! that I visited for a class on the history of medical ethics! and I had to go inside via a locked-to-the-public service elevator, unlike all my classmates! because a museum making money off of disabled bodies didn't have a dedicated entrance for living ones!

fuck you!

the saddest thing about the mütter museum is that I think some people working there really are dedicated to medical education. they gave me space to cry during that field trip after I heard a kid tell her dad that the body of a man who'd purposefully donated his body to the museum for education was going to give her nightmares. a real fucking person. one who'd willingly donated his body, the best-case scenario for that disaster of a museum. and her dad just laughed. because that's the vibe they go for there.

it's fucking dehumanizing.

I'm not against medical education; I actually think it's super important. but I've been to medical museums all over the world now, and the Hunterian model is not an effective way to teach. (though it does make lots of money, and has since Hunter first started having tea parties to show off stolen organs in bottles to his fellow rich friends in his fucking living room.) there are so many ways to teach about medicine and the history thereof without displaying, again, mostly stolen bodies in jars.

the depressing thing is that they know that there. I know that because their modern temporary exhibits tend to be really good. they're respectful and they're interesting and they're well-designed and they're deeply educational. I saw a few during various visits I had to make for classes. their exhibit on the way that medicine changed during the civil war? great! fascinating. important.

but the fact of the matter is that no matter how much their staff tried to get me in that building without missing too much of the tour the rest of my class got (but I very much did miss some of it) and no matter how much their staff acknowledged my concerns and no matter how respectful their modern exhibits are, the lion's share of their collection is still based on turning stolen othered bodies into a sideshow. that's their main draw and it's how they make their money. there is literally no way to thoroughly modernize a museum with a ghastly history while that's the case.

so uh no. I won't be signing your petition.