#but still i did wish we got more isabel this update however much i loved the symbolism this time around

[theparanaturalenby]

I hope next chapter continues Isabel’s arc more, cause it’s really interesting to me.

[westwingwolf]

Title: Single Line Chapter 2

Archive: AO3

Summary: Will Sergeant Grey's prepared relationship paperwork for Tim & Lucy finally prove necessary?

Notes: Y'all asked for a sequel; and not long after posting the first part, I did happen to have an idea for a continuation.

"Chen!"

Lucy and Jackson looked up from where they were chatting about their latest arrest to see Tim coming toward them with a scowl on his face.

It had been a few months since Lucy and Tim had had their last shift together. From that time, they had transitioned into more an equal status as coworkers and become even better friends. Hanging out more off duty than they had while she was his rookie. Jackson had even recently pointed out that Lucy spent more off duty time with Tim than she did with Jackson, and they were the ones who lived together. She reminded him that since Jackson and her were now partners, they needed more off duty hours apart or risk ruining their friendship. He had asked her if she felt that way when she was riding with Tim, and she had chosen not to respond. But she definitely thought about it on her own; and realized that if given the choice, she would have spent as many hours with Tim as possible. Though she still refused to think too much about what that really meant.

All the same, she thought Tim had enjoyed the change in their friendship as well. He hadn't called her Chen in months. Not unless he was addressing her professionally with other officers around. And he certainly wouldn't have yelled at her in the middle of the precinct.

When Tim finally reached her and Jackson, he lowered his voice but the rigidness still remained. "You told my rookie we're married?"

"What?" That was not what she was expecting.

"WHAT?!" Beside her Jackson exclaimed more loudly.

Tim was temporarily distracted by Jackson's outburst which gave Lucy more time to think and realize what had happened. "Okay, this is all an honest misunderstanding. Yesterday, when you took that call for the bar fight, got slammed into a wall, and had to go to the hospital for a possible concussion; I heard about it and wanted to know what happened. But Jackson and I were guarding evidence so I couldn't leave the scene. So I radioed your rookie for an update. But your new rookie follows the rules more than you do. He is even more anal about the rules than Jackson was when we first started as rookies."

"Hey!" Tim and Lucy both turned to look at Jackson. Tim was clearly annoyed by his presence while Lucy silently pleaded with him to not make this worse. As much as Jackson wanted to watch this play out, preferably with some popcorn, he decided now was probably a good time to bail. He'd get the rest of the story from Lucy later. "I think I just heard Smitty call for me. So I'm gonna go be anywhere but here."

After Jackson quickly left, Tim turned his attention back to Lucy. "How does my rookie following the rules lead to us being married?"

"He wouldn't give me an update on your condition even after I told him I was your former rookie, and I'm your friend." She looked down as she quietly stated the rest. "So I might have insinuated that we were more than that."

When Tim hadn't said anything yet, Lucy looked back into his eyes. "I'm sorry. I was worried, and I didn't think about the repercussions. But it's going to be fine. He's not going to tell anyone else."

As if right on cue by fate, Tim and Lucy heard the booming voice of Sergeant Grey. "Bradford! Chen! My office! Now!"

Making haste, the pair filed into Grey's office. Both fearful of what he might say, but not wanting to give anything away in case they were wrong.

In almost stark contrast to his demeanor only seconds ago, Grey sat calmly at his desk while Tim and Lucy stood before him. "Officer Chen. Officer Bradford. Or should I say Officers Bradford, is there anything you wish to inform me about?"

Tim remained silent, and Lucy couldn't blame him. This was her fault entirely. "Sir, I'm to blame. Tim..." Tim shot her a quick look as if to say now was not the time to be informal. "Officer Bradford had no knowledge of my conversation with Officer Coleman, and I did not mean for that miscommunication to go as far as it did. I will, of course, inform Officer Coleman of the truth immediately."

To Lucy it felt like forever as Grey studied both her and Tim for some answer he seemed to be looking for in their body language. Finally, he spoke, "So I won't be needing this paperwork." He pointed to a folder sitting squarely in the middle of his desk.

"Paperwork?" She asked. Oh God, had he planned to write up an official reprimand over this? Was she still in trouble? She looked over at Tim who briefly met her eyes. He appeared worried for her as well.

"Paperwork informing the higher ups that two of my officers are in a romantic relationship and requesting that they remain in the same department provided they are capable of maintaining professionalism." Grey informed them with that classic lilt of his voice and a hint of a smile implying that he knew something they didn't.

"That's possible?" Lucy couldn't hide her surprise. She looked at Tim. "Did you know that was possible?"

He only looked at her briefly to shake his head before returning his gaze back to Grey. His stoic manner once again in place, but for a moment she thought she saw something in his eyes. A brief mixture of both hope and regret.

She turned back to Grey who began speaking as if he was waiting calmly for their attention. Not something he would do often. "It's rare, but it is allowed in special circumstances. However, since I won't be needing to file the paperwork today, I'll just put it back in my desk for later." He returned the folder to his bottom desk drawer. Taking notice that both Tim's and Lucy's eyes stayed on that very drawer until they snapped forward upon his sharp "You're both dismissed."

Just as they reached the door, he called back to them. "Tim. Lucy." They both turned to look at him. "The next time I'm informed of your marriage it better be because I was invited to your wedding." He smiled briefly before turning back toward his regular paperwork. Having silently dismissed them again.

Neither sure how to respond to that, they both quickly left his office. They could barely look each other in the eye before silently choosing not address the situation any further. Instead they both returned to their duties to finish out their shift.

By the time shift was over, the awkwardness still remained but walking to their cars together had become an end of shift ritual. Neither was eager to forego it so they walked in silence before reaching Tim's truck. Lucy managed an awkward goodbye and got only a few feet before she turned back around. They had never ended a shift without talking through their problems. Not since those early days. She couldn't leave it this way.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said before she could change her mind.

Tim looked back at her. "You already apologized. I'm not mad. There's nothing for you to worry about."

Lucy moved closer to him. "But there is. I didn't think it through when I let Coleman think we were married. I mean, I knew what I was saying. I knew what I wanted him to think. Because I wanted to know you were okay. But I didn't think about how you would react when he told you. And I realized later that when he spoke about your wife, you must have thought about Isabel. And I'm sorry for any pain that must have caused."

"I didn't," Tim stated. When Lucy looked at him curiously, he continued. "I didn't think about Isabel. In fact, Coleman's exact words to me when he first got in the shop today were 'I'm sorry I didn't tell Officer Chen about your condition immediately when she asked. I didn't know that she's your wife.' So after the initial shock, my only thought was 'I wish she was."

Lucy stood stunned. She watched Tim carefully for any signs that he was teasing her. That this was a trick. Like the one she played on him on their last shift. She regretted her false confession almost immediately. And for months now she had played back those words to him over and over in her head. Wondering just how false any of it really was. But in Tim's eyes she saw absolute sincerity. He meant it completely.

And suddenly that magnetic pull that had always been between them hit them with a full force. Moving toward each other quickly, they met with eager kissing. Lucy wasn't sure how, but at some point Tim had turned them around so her back was pressed against his truck. Only after they broke apart for air did it register to her that they had been standing in the parking garage kissing like they didn't care who might walk by at any moment. And it in truth, it didn't matter. Because Tim was leaning over her with his forehead resting against hers, as if he didn't want any space between them. Neither did she. Not when he was looking at her with so much love in his eyes.

When she finally caught her breath she asked, "Do you think Sergeant Grey will be annoyed with us if we tell him we need the relationship paperwork already?"

She was rewarded with a rare Tim Bradford smile and more kissing.

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Blinded in Chains: Chapter Four

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5089 Alternate: AO3 Author’s Note: Enjoy! Tag List: @justsmilestuffhappens @tkandbuck @poppy3019 @mysepticheartfan1 @idealuk @irrationalyperfect @claire-nyc​ @javachik @ordinaryxgirl​ @silverrose6​ @wifeofkyloren17​ @haileymatthewss​ @daughter-of-infinity​

Buck doesn’t sleep that night after he’s told they are going to wake up Eddie in two days’ time. Or, at least, he tries to sleep but fails. Instead, he is up most of the night staring at the monitor, watching the thin white line going up and down in the rhythm of Eddie’s heartbeat. They’ve slowly taken him off the ventilator a few hours ago to make sure that Eddie can breathe on his own and once they were satisfied that he can, they hooked him up to a nasal cannula.

Buck has a shift he has to go to in a couple of hours despite not sleeping. He debates with himself whether or not to call in sick. Not because he’s tired, he’s way too wired for that, but because he doesn’t know if he could stand being away from Eddie for long periods of time at such a crucial time. He needs to be here just in case something goes wrong. The nurses reassure him more than once that, at this stage, it’s very unlikely that anything will happen and that they will update him on his hourly calls.

It doesn’t calm Buck down any but it does somehow give him the strength to get up, drive home, take a shower and get dressed, and then drive to work. He gets there late but it’s okay because, by now, everyone knows where he’s coming from. Some of the other crew members ask him about Eddie and he gives them the good news before hightailing it to the locker room where Chimney and Hen are standing there, waiting to ambush him. He tries to sigh discretely at seeing them, having come to the locker rooms to not only change but to hide from all the prying eyes and questions.

“Hey,” Hen is the first one to greet him, her eyebrows furrowing. “You look tired, Buckaroo.”

“Did something happen?” Chimney asks next, leaning against the lockers.

Buck shakes his head as he makes his way over to his locker, unlocking it and starting to change. “They’re waking Eddie up tomorrow.”

The room plummets into silence as the other two take in that information. “I’ll be there,” Hen says after a minute, nodding pointedly.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Chimney sounds regrettable, frowning at the fact that he won’t be there to support his friend.

“I’m sure we can get someone to cover you.” Hen shrugs. “We’ll talk to Bobby.”

Buck finishes pulling on his uniform, feeling his anxiety rising incrementally. “I haven’t told Bobby yet.” They look at him. “I haven’t really told anyone yet.”

“Isabel? His parents? Christopher?” Chimney clarifies.

Buck shakes his head. “What if… what if I tell them and something happens?”

“Like what?” Hen inquires. “I thought Eddie was doing better?”

“I don’t know. He-he has been but…” Buck takes a deep breath. It’s suddenly way too hard to breathe. “It’s been… There have been so many close calls…”

Hen walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “Eddie will be fine. He’s getting better and if he wasn’t, they wouldn’t be waking him up. Nothing is going to happen to him, Buck.”

Buck nods slowly but Hen’s words don’t help him at all. “I’ve got to go tell Bobby.” He pushes past Hen and walks by Chimney without another word. He finds Bobby in his office. “Bobby, can I talk to you for a second?”

Bobby gestures towards the chair that is situated in front of his desk. “Of course.”

Buck enters the office, closes the door, and sits down in the offered chair. He clears his throat, willing his hands to stop shaking. “Eddie is going to be woken up tomorrow.” Bobby nods, a ghost of a smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “Chimney has to work but he was wondering if maybe someone could cover him so he can be there?”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. I want to be there as well,” Bobby says. The older man then looks Buck up and down. “You doing okay?”

Buck shrugs. “I’m doing alright. Nervous, I guess.”

Bobby gives him a reassuring smile. “He’ll be fine, Buck.”

“Bobby, in this line of work, I’ve been taught to always expect the worst to happen. There’s still time-”

“No, Buck,” Bobby interrupts. “Eddie is waking up tomorrow. Let’s not drown our relief and excitement for that in the worry of worse case scenarios.”

Buck looks to the floor, nodding minutely. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with him. “He might still be blind,” he says quietly.

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” Bobby shifts and his chair creeks, causing Buck to look up. “Are they going to test it right away?” Buck shrugs. The doctor hadn’t told him anything about testing Eddie’s sight and before Buck can state that, the bell rings. Bobby stands, sighing heavily. Buck knows this whole thing hasn’t been easy for him either. “Duty calls, Buck.”

Again, Buck nods and follows Bobby out, jogging to the firetruck.

*~~~*

Buck does eventually tell Eddie’s family and Eddie’s parents get a flight out that afternoon, arriving that night. They convene at Isabel’s with Buck coming over to check on Christopher before going back to the hospital to spend the rest of the night with Eddie. The first thing Buck is greeted with when he steps into the house is a lecture.

“You look too tired and thin,” Isabel chastises. She immediately hands him a donut from the half a dozen she had picked up after Christopher had begged her for some.

He smiles at her sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“You need to start taking better care of yourself, Buck.” She starts walking away and Buck follows her throughout the house.

Before this whole thing happened, Buck and Isabel hadn’t really known each other all that well. She knew Buck and Eddie were close friends and that Buck looked after Christopher sometimes, that Buck loves that kid almost as much as, if not just as much as, Eddie but her and Buck never really spoke much. After the accident, however, they’ve gotten to know each other a lot better. They’ve had long conversations with one another as they both sat next to Eddie in the hospital. Isabel always came by to visit her grandson every day and Buck was almost always there, never leaving Eddie’s side unless absolutely necessary. So it wasn’t hard to see each other and interact with one another. Now, she treats him as if he were her friend too, or maybe, if Buck really thinks about it, like Eddie’s boyfriend. Buck doesn’t correct her line of thinking and she never asks him, which Buck is grateful for.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says which earns him a playful glare. 

In the living room is Christopher with his grandparents. All three of them are on the floor, playing with a train set that Buck knows Eddie had bought Christopher for his birthday. Christopher hears him and Isabel enter the room and immediately jumps up. “Buck!”

“Hey, Buddy!” Buck crouches in order to give Christopher a hug. When he pulls back, he holds out the strawberry frosted donut to him. “Here.”

A wide grin spreads across Christopher’s face. “Thanks, Buck!”

Isabel swats him on the back of the head as Christopher turns around and heads back to the train set. “That was for you.”

“Sorry, Isabel,” Buck starts, standing. “I can’t resist that charming Diaz smile.”

“So I’ve gathered,” she comments, making Buck blush a deep red.

Helena and Ramon walk up to them, leaving Christopher to it. “Hello, Buck,” Helena greets, giving him a quick hug.

Buck gives the two his sweetest smile he can possibly manage. “It’s good to see you two again.”

“Wish it was under better circumstances,” Helena says.

Buck nods in agreement. “Me too.” He then looks past their shoulders to the nine-year-old playing on the floor. “Have you told him?”

Ramon nods. “Yes. He’s excited. It’ll probably be hard for him to sleep tonight.”

“He’s looking forward to finally talking to his dad,” Helena adds, a small smile in place.

 “Wait, you’re going to let him be there when Eddie wakes up?” Buck asks, astounded.

Ramon and Helena’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Of course,” Ramon says. “He’s Eddie’s son and deserves to be there.”

“Plus,” Helena continues. “I’m sure Eddie would love to see him.”

“See him?” Buck has to swallow to keep himself from raising his voice incredulously. “But he can’t see him.”

“We don’t know that,” Isabel states but Buck is already angry at the nonchalance of the whole ordeal.

“No, but they aren’t taking the bandages off his eyes before they wake him,” he states, trying to stay calm and quiet so Christopher can’t hear him. “What if they decide to take them off just after he’s woken up and he still can’t see? The whole thing is going to be traumatic and overwhelming enough as is. You don’t think not being able to see his kid who is right there won’t just add to that? No,” Buck shakes his head, determined. “No, Eddie needs to process the situation before he learns he might never set eyes on his son ever again.” He shakes his head again. “Not to mention how upsetting it’ll be to Christopher to have to learn that way that his father can’t see him and never will.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Ramon asks him.

Buck shrugs. “Christopher goes to school like normal and if Eddie is willing and wanting to, then we let Christopher see him.”

“Are you suggesting Eddie won’t want to see his son?” Ramon accuses.

Buck refuses to be intimidated. They don’t seem to understand the extent of the situation. Buck has seen things like this many, many times in his life due to his work. He knows how traumatic this can be for both parties. “No, of course, Eddie’s going to want to see him but the point is, is that he can’t see. He’s going to have to have time to wrap his head around that and be allowed to feel… whatever it is he’s going to feel instead of worrying about making sure his kid isn’t scared.”

“I think Buck is right,” Isabel speaks up, stepping closer to him. “Eddie will want to protect Christopher from whatever is happening. He shouldn’t have to be made to put up a front in such an emotional situation.”

Helena and Ramon exchange glances with each other before Ramon talks. “Fine, but you will be the one to tell him.” He points to Buck, the unspoken words loud and clear. He wants Buck to be the bad guy, to be the one who breaks Christopher’s heart.

Buck frowns, trying to ignore the heavy weight that has settled itself on his chest. “Okay,” he says quietly, sounding small to even his own ears.

He waits until Christopher is in bed before he talks to him. Buck tucks him in, sits on the edge of the bed, reads a book to him because Christopher begged him to, and then takes in a deep breath to begin talking. "Hey, Chris, listen, I know you're excited about your dad waking up tomorrow but I think it's best if you go to school and come see your dad later if he’s up to it."

Buck has a hard time looking at Christopher's crestfallen face, his heart breaking for the nine-year-old. "Why? he asks.

Buck sighs, running a hand on his thigh nervously, and explains in the best way he knows how. "Your dad is going to be really tired and confused when he does wake up and the doctors are going to want to do a bunch of tests on him. I think it would be less stressful for your dad and for you if there were fewer people there." He runs a hand through Christopher’s curls. “Do you understand?”

“I… I think so,” Christopher looks up at him with those big blue eyes. “I trust you, Buck.”

Buck pulls Christopher into a tight hug, the boy wrapping his arms around Buck’s shoulders. “Thank you, Christopher.” Placing a quick kiss on top of Christopher’s head, Buck pulls back, running his hand through those curls one last time. “Get some sleep.”

He stays there until Christopher falls asleep, praying that Eddie will be able to see his son again.

*~~~*

By some miracle, they are all allowed to pack into Eddie’s room while they await the doctor’s arrival. Buck sits in his usual spot, holding onto Eddie’s left hand while his parents sit on the opposite side of the bed. Isabel, Bobby, Chimney, and Hen all stand around in various spots of the room. Eddie would probably hate all the attention he’s getting if he knew they all were there.

Buck’s nerves are on overdrive. He can’t believe this day has finally arrived. He’s going to be able to talk to Eddie for the first time in weeks and it makes him feel giddy but anxious at the same time. He subconsciously squeezes at Eddie’s hand, watching his face closely. He wonders when the doctor is finally going to be coming to tell them when and how this whole process is going to play out.

It takes another half hour before the doctor knocks on the door and enters. Everyone turns to him and his eyes widen with how many people are there. “Hello everyone,” he greets. Buck, Helena, and Ramon stand, buck rubbing his hands on his thighs nervously. “I guess I’ll get right to it then.”

The doctor explains to them what is going to happen. He tells them that he is going to slowly decrease the amount of the drug that is keeping Eddie in the coma in order to transfer Eddie into the waking room as gradually as possible. He warns them that Eddie is probably going to be very groggy and confused at first, along with being pretty weak due to not moving for a while. He then says the one thing that Buck probably presumes Eddie’s parents didn’t want to hear.

“I believe it would be a less stressful transition into consciousness if there was only one person here when it happened. The rest of you are free to wait in here for a few hours since it will take a while for Mr. Diaz to waken, but I suggest only waiting for about two hours. Then you are welcome to wait out in the waiting room until we can exam Mr. Diaz more and let you know if he can see more people,” the doctor explains.

Helena grabs onto her husband’s hand. “Can it be two people? It’s just, we’re his parents and we would like to be here for it.”

Before the doctor can even reply, Chimney is speaking up. “It should be Buck.”

All eyes turn to Chimney. “What?” Ramon asks.

The doctor holds up his hands. “I’ll let you all discuss who is going to stay for the process but if you do decide that it’ll be Mr. Diaz’s parents, then I see no problem in letting them both stay. A nurse will be in shortly to lower the dosage of Propofol that is being given to Mr. Diaz to keep him asleep.” He then leaves, giving them all an encouraging smile.

Ramon turns back to Chimney. “What do you mean it should be Buck?”

“Think about it,” Chimney begins. “Eddie is going to want to act strong and tough for his parents and anyone else for that matter. He deserves to react to this situation in whatever way he needs to instead of pretending to be fine and hiding his emotions.” He shrugs. “And to be quite honest, Buck is the only person I’ve ever seen Eddie be vulnerable in front of to allow himself that kind of freedom.”

“Well, that’s why we didn’t bring Christopher,” Helena states. “Because Buck thought the same thing, that Eddie would want to put up a front for him.”

“And Buck is right, Eddie would do that but he would also do that for the rest of us as well, except for Buck.” Chimney shoves his hands into his pockets. “He’s definitely not going to show what he is really feeling in front of his family and, despite being friends with Eddie, Bobby, Hen, and I aren’t as close to him as Buck is.” Buck’s cheeks flame red. “Eddie trusts Buck more than anyone in this room and feels the most comfortable with him. Buck is Eddie’s best friend and so he’s more likely to let himself show his emotions, which is something he’s going to need to do.”

The room grows quiet and Buck’s cheeks feel hot with embarrassment. Eventually, though, Ramon drags his eyes from Chimney to Buck and then to Eddie and back to Chimney. He gives a curt nod before saying into the silence of the room, “Okay.”

No one says anything about the subject after that, everyone silently agreeing with Chimney’s statement. A nurse does eventually come in and start reducing the dose of Propofol as the group makes meager chit chat but the air is now strained with emotions and anxiousness. After a couple of hours, they all start to shuffle out of the room, the first being Chimney and then Hen, followed by Bobby. Isabel leaves next, giving her grandson a quick kiss on the forehead. Helena and Ramon are the last to leave, Helena squeezing her son’s arm gently and kissing his cheek. Ramon places a hand on Eddie’s blanket-covered foot and says something so quietly, Buck can’t make out what it is. They both then leave after that, telling Buck they’ll be waiting out in the waiting room with the rest.

Another hour goes by and Eddie still hasn’t woken. The nurses reassure him that this is normal, that they are gradually reducing the medication so it could still be hours yet before Eddie wakes up. Every once in a while, Bobby or Isabel or Helena will pop their head in and check-in to see if Eddie has woken yet. Buck has to tell them that he’ll shoot them a text message when he does, that they don’t have to wait out in the waiting room if they don’t want to (they refuse to leave even at Buck’s persistence) and to stop coming in to check.

That’s why, when Buck hears a knock on the door, he’s immediately annoyed. He turns, expecting to see one of the three but is then surprised to see Beth standing there. The protective feeling Buck gets in his chest is overwhelming. He stands, stepping in front of the bed to block her view of Eddie.

“What are you doing here?”

Beth links her hands together, shifting her weight onto one foot. “I heard Eddie was being woken up. I wanted to see for myself.”

“I’m not going to let you belittle Eddie’s survival to him,” Buck informs her. “Besides, the doctor only wants one person here when he wakes up”

She nods, looking angry. “And, of course, it’s you.”

“What’s your problem?” Buck asks, feeling annoyed. “I’ve done nothing but try and support you.”

“Support me?” She takes a step closer to him. “Is that what you call telling me to let my husband die?”

“Because he’s already gone, Beth. Eddie living isn’t going to change that,” Buck tries to reason. “That body that you keep visiting… isn’t alive anymore. The machines are keeping it viable so it doesn’t rot away but there’s nothing there. Your husband is gone, Beth.”

“No!” she snaps at him. “How is it fair that he,” she points over to Eddie, “gets to live while the rest of the people that were in that same explosion get to die? Why? Why him? Why not more of them? Why not my husband? If Eddie can survive it, why can’t Isaac?”

“Beth,” there are tears streaming down her face now, eyes blazing with anger and jealousy and unadulterated grief. “I don’t know why and it isn’t fair.” He takes a step towards her. “But I do understand. I really do. Because at some point I had to accept the fact that Eddie might not survive this either. That I might have to say goodbye to someone I love.” It’s the first time Buck has admitted his feelings towards Eddie out load and it certainly isn’t how he had pictured doing it. It’s the only way he knows how to get through to Beth, though, so he tries to not think about it too much for now. “And accepting that, that I might lose him, it felt like I was dying too. But I did it anyway because I had to.” Beth says nothing, watching Buck, so he continues. “So no, it’s not fair, but you tell me , Beth, how is it fair that Eddie now has burn scars covering his body and that he might possibly be permanently blind? How is any of this fair to any of us?” He takes another step closer. “We were all screwed over by this accident that could have been easily avoided and the anger you are directing towards me should really be directed towards the people who caused it.”

“I’m not ready,” she cries.

“No one is ever ready, Beth.” Buck reaches her, thinks about pulling her into a hug, but then decides against it. “But saying goodbye to Isaac, letting go of him, and moving on is better than holding onto a hope that is never going to come.”

Beth reaches up, wipes at her face. “I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Grieve,” Buck tells her. “And then live, not only for Isaac but for Chloe too because she needs you now more than ever.”

“I’m sorry.” Buck opens his mouth to respond when he hears a soft groan coming from Eddie’s bed. He looks over, seeing the older man stirring. Beth continues, catching Buck’s attention again. “I hope it works out between you two.” There’s another groan, causing Buck to snap his head in Eddie’s direction and when he turns back to face Beth, she’s gone.

Taking a deep breath and trying to push his feelings about that whole exchange away, Buck rushes over to Eddie’s bedside. “Eddie?” He grabs a hold of Eddie’s left hand. “Eds? Hey, it’s okay, you’re in the hospital.”

Eddie shifts, moving his head groggily. “Buck?”

*~~~*

Eddie wakes slowly, or at least, he thinks he wakes up. He can’t actually open his eyes to see where he is and he feels the panic starting to settle in. His breathing speeds up and his heart starts to pound hard in his chest but then he hears a familiar voice, a voice that could always calm him down.

“Eddie?” He feels Buck grab his left hand, hears the creak of a chair as he sits. “Eds? Hey, it’s okay, you’re in the hospital.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here, man.” Eddie can feel the pressure of Buck’s thumb rubbing against his knuckles but it’s weird. He doesn’t feel the flesh of it. There’s something wrapped around his hand.

And he can’t feel his right hand.

Panic surges through him again. “What?” His voice sounds thick and his words sound slurred. “What happened? Why… what’s on my eyes? Why can’t I…” he has to swallow, try and breathe. “Why can’t I feel my right hand?”

“Hey,” Buck’s soothing voice comes through Eddie’s heavy breathing. “Hey, Eddie, it’s okay, calm down.” He sounds concerned which really doesn’t help Eddie’s worried state but he does manage to take a few deep breaths to relax.

He’s exhausted.

“What’s going on?” Buck is quiet and if it weren’t for the other man holding his hand, Eddie might have thought he had left. “Buck?”

“Maybe the doctor should explain it to you.” The chair scrapes across the floor. “I should actually get a nurse.”

“No!” Eddie tries to tighten his grip on Buck’s hand but then realizes that he can barely move. He feels really weak, like a boulder is sitting on his limbs. “Please don’t leave.”

The slide of the chair against the floor tells Eddie that Buck has sat back down. He can hear Buck rub his hand against his jeans. “Eddie, I really think the doctor should explain things to you.”

Eddie tilts his head to the left, where he has been hearing Buck. “I want to hear it from you.” He’s having a hard time staying awake now, the crash of his panic-induced adrenaline rush exhausting him further. “Please.”

Buck takes a deep breath before he starts talking. His hand flexes in Eddie’s. “Do you remember what happened?”

Eddie tries to focus, groans a little when he tries to move his body but can’t find the strength, and recalls fragments of memories. He remembers the blinding light, hitting his head, the searing pain that had gone through his body. “Uh…” he starts tiredly. “Ex… explosion?”

“Maybe you should get some more sleep?”

Eddie shakes his head weakly. “No. I want… Explain.”

Another heavy sigh escapes from Buck’s mouth. It ghosts over Eddie’s face, making Eddie turn towards him more. “You’re right, there was an explosion. The factory had mixtures of chlorate and magnesium chloride in it. Do you remember?” Eddie nods his head slowly. “You and the rest of the crew members you brought with you, along with the employees, were in the room when the canisters blew up.”

“The employees?” Eddie asks. “Did they…”

Buck is silent for a few seconds before he says, “They didn’t make it, Eddie.”

Eddie feels his heart plummet. “And the crew?” His voice cracks and he hates it.

Buck doesn’t answer right away, he stays quiet for a very long time but Eddie still hears him swallow thickly in the dead silence. Then, when he speaks quietly, Buck’s voice sounds broken. “They all died, too.” Eddie lets out a ragged breath, feels how his whole body shudders with emotions. He sniffles. “Um… Hammond is on life support right now but…” A breath. “He’s gone, Eddie. Beth just needs to, uh, make the decision to… take him off.”

Eddie’s crying and for the first time since he’s woken up, he’s glad there is something over his eyes so Buck can’t see the tears that are soaking it. He takes in a shaky breath and when he goes to let it out, it catches in his throat and a sob escapes instead. Buck’s hand tightens around his, another hand lands on his bicep. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck says gently but his voice sounds thick, as if he’s crying too. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“I… I was supposed to keep them alive,” he cries and wishes he didn’t feel so weak so he can bring a hand up to cover his face. “It was my responsibility.”

“No,” Buck sniffles, hand leaving Eddie’s bicep and then coming back down wet, as if Buck had wiped at his face. “No, Eddie, this isn’t your fault. It’s the factory owners. He’s the one who didn’t disclose what they had in there. That’s not on you.”

“Wasn’t fast enough.”

“No one could have been, Eddie,” Buck reassures. “We shouldn’t have even been in there in the first place.” He pauses and Eddie takes in a trembling breath, calming. “Bobby has been a mess over it. He feels responsible as well but as I said, Eddie, the only one to blame is the factory owner. He put everyone at risk.”

Buck’s words really don’t help Eddie feel any less guilty but he does manage to stop crying. He’s the one who brought his coworkers and those employees into that room. He’s the one who didn’t move quickly enough to get them all out. He’s the one who led them straight to their deaths.

He had told them they would be okay.

He’s the one who lied.

“How did I survive?” he asks, voice now sounding even more ruined by his crying.

“I don’t know. Some miracle, I guess.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Not religious.”

There’s movement and suddenly Eddie wishes he could see what Buck is doing. “Neither am I.”

“My right hand… is it…”

“It’s still there,” Buck tells him. “Eddie, you got really badly burned. Some second-degree burns… some third. Your right hand was pretty bad. It is one of the spots that got the third-degree burns but also nerve damage.”

Eddie knows what that means. He’s seen it plenty of times out on the field during Afganistan and as a firefighter. “So I’m never going to be able to feel with that hand again,” he states.

He hears more shifting from Buck’s side, can practically feel Buck’s nervous energy. “That’s not the worse thing that happened Eddie.”

Eddie feels a chill run through his body. He knows what Buck is going to say next. It doesn’t take a genius to guess. “My eyes?”

Buck sighs heavily and the chair creaks. “Eddie, just keep in mind they don’t know the extent of the damage yet but…” Buck stops, as if he can’t bring himself to say it.

Eddie already knows. He’s seen this in Afganistan as well. The aftermath of an explosion can be brutal, including to the eyes or to the optical nerve. If it’s not the shrapnel that damages the eyes themselves, then it’s the shockwave that damages the optical nerve. Eddie shifts, tries to sink into the bed more. The movement makes him tired. “Is it partial or complete?”

“They don’t know yet.”

“Is it permanent?”

Buck’s hand rubs against his bicep briefly. “They don’t know that either” Eddie nods, feeling a suffocating heaviness engulfing his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” Buck asks, as if he had been expecting a different reaction from him.

Eddie shakes his head. He doesn’t want to talk at all right now. He doesn’t even want to accept that this is happening. “I’m tired.”

He hears Buck stand and he lets go of Eddie’s hand with one last squeeze. “Why don’t you get some more sleep and I’ll go get a nurse.”

Footsteps sound across the floor. “Wait.” They stop. “Christopher? Where is he?”

“At school.”

Eddie nods in satisfaction, finally letting his entire body relax. “Good.”

The footsteps don’t start back up for a few seconds and then Buck’s voice calls out softly. “Get some sleep, Eddie.”

It doesn’t take him long to do just that.

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: Don’t worry, Eddie isn’t going to always have this nonchalant attitude about his situation. He’s just tired, probably a little bit in denial, and it hasn’t really sunk in yet.

Thank you all for reading!! ❤❤

[bytheangell]

This is the Coda that Never Ends... Part 8

(Read on AO3) (Read from the start!) 

“Luke knows. How does Luke know? Do you think Alec told him?”  Jace is at the Institute heading into the cafeteria for a quick brunch with Isabelle and Simon. It isn’t so much that they planned the mid-morning meal to be a brunch specifically, just that they all freed up at such scattered times throughout the morning it’s the first chance any of them have to eat.

“I don’t know,” Izzy admits, biting down on her lower lip. “He’d tell me if he was.” There’s a doubt in her tone that neither of them acknowledge. “Right?” “Right.” Jace agrees, though he feels the same doubt. “But how else would Luke find out? And mom, too. You know she’s going to come by later and want to talk now.” He groans, thinking of the texts he got from her that morning and the lengthy explanation he’ll have to give to get out of this one.

“I dunno, maybe none of you managed to stay away like we agreed,” Simon suggests, the slightly bitter undertone of his words more than justified (as is the pang of guilt Jace feels over them). All this time Simon stayed away from his best friend because it’s what they all decided should be done, knowing memories he could’ve kept with her were taken as well, for her own safety. And now it’s looking like Jace may not be the only one who didn’t hold up his end of that agreement…

Jace feels rotten about it, of course he does, but there isn’t anything he can do to fix it now. Instead he looks down at the selection of food in front of him, eager for a topic change. It’s too late for a proper breakfast, but not quite late enough to catch the lunch rush, and what results is a tray with some breakfast leftovers and the start of the lunch options in a less-than-appetizing mix.

“You know if you asked them to make some of the lunch food early, they would. You are the Head of the Institute, what good is it if you aren’t going to get some perks?” Jace grumbles, eyeing the slightly hardening waffle on his plate next to some carrots and dip.

“Because with the trouble we’re potentially in here, I want to save all my good will and favors for something that matters, not for fresh french fries at 10 am,” Izzy returns, and Simon laughs at the comment before sobering up pretty fast (pretty fast for Simon, at least).

“You don’t really think this is going to be trouble, do you?” He asks, glancing between them. So much for the topic change, Jace thinks to himself.

“I don’t know, Simon. And I’d rather be safe than sorry and prepare for the worst.” Izzy says the heavy words with a sigh to match.

“...and what is the worst?” Simon prompts.

Izzy remains silent, as does Jace. He doesn’t know about his sister, but Jace has no idea what a worst case scenario would be here. Would it be Clary remembering and finding her way back? Would it be Clary remembering and deciding to stay away? Or trying to use her runes again, to communicate with the Angels? Is the worst case scenario the Clave finding out they knew and kept it from them, or the Clave not knowing and acting on their own before the few of them who already know have a chance to step in and stop them?

He’s starting to think that no matter how this plays out, each option has a potential for disaster, and while they wait on the sidelines for things to play out naturally all he can do is take his frustrations out on the unfortunate food selection in front of him, poking at a sausage link with his fork but not picking it up to eat.

Simon allows the silence to sit and drops the question. There’s still hope there, Jace can see it on his face. Hope that this is all going to be alright, that Clary will remember and they’ll get her back and everything will go back to the way it was before. Simon is the only one of them without a worst case scenario already in mind, and Jace wishes he could hold onto that sort of optimism. There was a flash of it back at the art gallery, a moment when Clary said his name in that alley where he thought maybe--

“There you are!” The words are quiet to the point that Jace doesn’t even realize he’s part of the ‘you’ being addressed until Underhill is sliding himself into an open seat across from him, next to Isabelle. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

Andrew’s words are rushed but quiet, and anyone who doesn’t know the particular reason he might be seeking out the three of them wouldn’t be able to see anything to worry about in his neutral expression. He does, however, glance around once just to make sure no one is close enough to listen before continuing.

“I think we may have a situation,” Andrew says. Jace puts his fork down, food forgotten. “I was going back through this morning’s footage and saw her walk into the old Jade Wolf restaurant.”

Jace, Simon, and Izzy exchange tense looks.

“It’s still under construction, the diner isn’t even open, what could she possibly being doing there?” Simon asks, more rhetorically than actually expecting an answer.

“How long did she stay?” Isabelle follows up, and this time they all turn to Andrew for the answer.

“She’s still there,” he informs them.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not upset about walking away from this enticing meal.” Already standing up from the table Jace pats his pockets to feel for his stele and the hilt of his seraph blade, just in case.

“Jace, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea--” Izzy starts, but falls silent at the shake of his head.  

“I’ll be more careful this time. Someone has to check up on her, though. I can glamour and stay out of site. You need to keep your distance from this in case it blows up in our faces.” This sort of thing is expected from him, but Izzy has a reputation to uphold now. She can’t be caught in the middle of this if things go south. “I’ll be fine. I wasn’t exactly trying to stay out of sight before when I thought the glamour was enough. I know better now.”

Izzy’s hesitant but they don’t have many options. If the wrong person shows up to that diner, a werewolf, or a vampire who might hold a grudge, or…

“Go. Zero contact, report directly back to me the moment you have an update.” Izzy must be thinking along the same lines as him, and he’s grateful for it.  

It doesn’t take him long to reach the restaurant, but when he does he immediately has to hide behind the side wall because Clary is exiting the front door. She looks upset, tucking hair behind her ear and turning her head back in sharp, on-edge movements as if she expects to be followed. He waits long enough for Clary to vanish from view and to make sure no one is about to come chasing out after her before going in the door she left through a few minutes prior.

“I thought I told you to--” The voice that greets him is a familiar one, though he isn’t used to hearing it so distraught. Normally Maia is the very picture of calm and collected, even in the face of danger. Perhaps more so in the face of danger.

He crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t break eye contact. “Please, don’t stop on my account. I’d love to hear all about what you told Clary.”

Maia falls silent in front of him. He doesn’t yell or demand answers, but he doesn’t react with any sympathy either while he watches her falter. If she went behind all of their backs and was talking to Clary, befriending her again when they were supposed to stay away, then she doesn't deserve understanding. 

“I fucked up,” Maia says finally. “But when she just showed up out of the blue I couldn’t bring myself to kick her out.”

“Why was she even here?” He's ready to go off on her, a lecture on bringing Clary back into their world when she should know better, but he needs to hear her admit to it first. 

“I don’t know. She doesn’t know, not really. She just said she felt drawn here, or something. But you didn’t see her, Jace. She looked so lost. I couldn’t -- I had to let her stay.” Jace isn’t sure who Maia is trying to convince more - him or herself.

“So let me get this straight. As far as Clary knows she jus wandered into the under construction diner of a total stranger who let her hang out for an hour?”

“...well when you put it like that…” Maia shrugs.

“Shit, Maia. You can’t just--” Jace starts, but stops just as quickly. He doesn’t have much right to lecture, after all. And it isn’t like Maia went to find Clary. Maia didn’t invite her here.... She didn’t ask for this. She also isn’t telling him the whole store.

“She looked upset when she was leaving…” Jace prompts, giving Maia a chance to explain on her own before he turns this into more of an interrogation. He’s been down that route with maia before and he doesn’t want it to come to that.

“That’s because I kicked her out after she painted this-” Maia turns and heads toward one of the back rooms, not bothering to stop and wait to see if Jace will follow. He does, stopping abruptly in the doorway at the sight of the voyance rune on the wall.

Jace immediately pulls out his phone, snaps a picture, and sends it to Izzy and Alec and Simon, with the caption: ‘Our favorite artist left this at Maia’s. I don’t think waiting is an option’.

“She said she didn’t remember painting it and wanted to stay and help me cover it up, but I panicked and told her to leave.” The slight widening of Maia’s eyes and the faintest tremor of her bottom lip are the only tells of the fear she’s kept from her voice so far. It comes through when she finally works up the nerve to ask what she’s been thinking this entire time. “Jace, what’s happening with Clary?”

Jace wishes more than anything he had an answer to that question.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Get to Know You Better Part 14

Summary: Gabrielle has a nine-year-old son who is a huge Captain America fan. He notices one of the actors on the subway and loudly points it out to her. That’s when Gabrielle realizes that actor was the man she had a one-night-stand with the week before.

Chapter Summary: Sebastian and Gabrielle can’t hide anything from James. And Jessie and Nick won’t let up.

Warnings: None

           I was pregnant. And it still came as a shock to Sebastian and I. It was nice to think about the possibilities but now those were a reality. And things had to be put in motion.

           Look for a bigger apartment.

           Give landlord my thirty-day notice.

           Shop for baby stuff.

           Tell James about the baby.

           I was nervous about the last item on the list. But we couldn’t start on any of the other plans until he knew or he’d get suspicious.

           I couldn’t stall much longer, my pregnancy would only last so long and there was so much to do. So, I sat down with him and Sebastian at his favorite restaurant. We sat outside with Captain sitting underneath the table at James’s feet.

           “So what do you have to tell me?” James asked before we even ordered food.

           “What?”

           “It’s pretty obvious that we went out to dinner because you wanted to tell me something.” He explained bluntly.

           “Well…we do.”

           “I know.”

           “What would you think about moving into an apartment with Sebastian?” I asked gently.

           James nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He smiled. “Can I take my stuff with me?”

           “Of course. And you’ll probably get a bigger room and you can decorate it however you want.” Sebastian promised.

           “Why are we moving?” James wondered but didn’t seem too worried about the concept.

           “Well, we need another room between the three of us because we’re going to have a new addition.”

           “You’re pregnant.”

           Sebastian nearly choked on his drink and I dropped my menu.

           “James Wilson, how in the world…”

           “So you aren’t?”

           “No, I am…I mean…” I cursed under my breath. Sometimes he was too smart for his own good.

           “How did you find out?” Sebastian seemed a bit fascinated on how he was able to come to that conclusion so quickly.

           “Mom was acting super weird. And you guys wanted to tell me something. Either you were getting married or you were having a baby. Mom didn’t have an engagement ring so…” He shrugged. “Plus she just confirmed it for me.”

           “An-and how do you feel about that?” I asked cautiously.

           He shrugged. “I think it would be cool. I kinda wanted to be a big brother.” He admitted shyly.

           “I think you’d be great at the job.” I smiled. “But if you weren’t okay with it, would you tell me?”

           “Yeah probably.” He tilted his head to the side. “But I think it would make you guys happy to have a baby.”

           “It doesn’t mean we love you any less,” I assured him.

           “Duh, I know you love me, mom. You never let me forget it.” He smiled.

           Sebastian and I laughed softly. “Well, we’re glad to hear it, buddy,” Sebastian said softly. “We’ll be a great little family, don’t you think?” He glanced over at me with pure happiness in his eyes.

           “The best.” I agreed.

================

           There was a loud ping waking me up at midnight. I groaned and turned over in bed. Sebastian grumbled and tried to pull me closer in his sleep.

           I artfully reached over to the nightstand without leaving his warm embrace. I grabbed my phone and winced at the brightness that suddenly flooded the room.

           Isabel: Have you seen this?

           She was sending me a link. It wasn’t rare. She often sent me links about weird medical news; she was a pediatrician or certain celebrity updates. Sometimes she took pictures of People magazines from her waiting room. I constantly had to remind her that the magazines were months old and Brad and Angelina weren’t together anymore.

           But my friend never texted me past ten unless she was drunk. Her words were coherent so I opened the link to a small celebrity gossip site, one that would report on Meghan Markle standing in line at the bank.

           Sebastian Stan allegedly dating single mother. Reporter tells all about the scandalous relationship.

           My blood ran cold. “No, no, no, no.” I started scrolling through the story.

           Sebastian started to stir. “Gabby…”

           “Goddammit, I knew it.” I hissed and sat up quickly.

           “Gabby, whasamatter?”

           “That snake. That sorry excuse for a human. Oh, my God, I knew it.”

           He began to wake up more when he heard the anger in my voice. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” He rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow.

           “Ooh, I’m going to make him wish he was never born.” I threw the covers aside and stood up.

           “Gabrielle, tell me what’s wrong!”

           “His fucking fiancee is a reporter. He told her to sell a story about us and she did!” I shook my phone furiously.

           “Nick?”

           “Yes!”

           “Alright, alright, sh…” He tried to coax me back to bed. “James is sleeping.”

           “I’m going to kill him, I swear to God.” I started rummaging through my closet.

           “What does it say, did you read it?”

           I held the screen up to reread the words out loud. “Jessie Bowen, who is engaged to the father of the child, tells about a custody case. And while the mother continues to date Stan, she has banned contact between the child, nine, and his father, Nicholas Walsh. She reveals the mother threatened Walsh and her several times. They plan to appeal the custody case, but one can wonder why the Marvel actor continues to see her.” Angry tears streamed down my cheeks.

           Sebastian was quiet for a second and I could tell he was suppressing an upset reaction. “You and I know that’s not true. They know it’s not true too but they can delude themselves into whatever they want. We just need to ignore them.”

           “So they can spread more lies about me? People I know will find out!” I exclaimed but tried to keep quiet for James’s sake.

           “And you can tell the truth. People know not to trust these sites.” He reminded me and yawned. “I don’t know why they weren’t painting me in a bad light too.” He wondered out loud. “I was the one about to beat him up.”

           “Because they want your fans to turn on me,” I replied sharply. “They want everyone to think I’m a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be in my own son’s life!” I sobbed.

           “Sh, sh, sh.” Sebastian got up and enveloped me in his arms. “It’s okay…we’re going to counteract this. I’ll contact my agent tomorrow and put out the real story.”

           “So we’re going to put ourselves under the microscope even more?”

           “We need to set it straight if it bothers you so much.” He gently ran his fingers through my hair. “But I’ll make sure people know to give you respect and privacy. Anything they have to say they can say to me.”

           “You don’t deserve to go through this. I brought you into this mess, it’s all my fault.”

           “Hey, look at me.” He tilted my chin up. “You’re not fighting this alone. I’ll remind you a million times if I have to but I have your back. When you love someone, you’re there to support them no matter what’s thrown at you. I know the real you, not the person they’re trying to make you out to be. Those lies won’t stand, not while I’m around to defend you.”

           I swallowed. “I hate him…” I whispered. “Why won’t he just leave me alone?”

           “Because he’s bitter. People who aren’t happy need to bring down people who are.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll handle this, I promise. But you need to sleep. All this stress isn’t good for the baby, right?” He rested a hand on my stomach and forced a smile. “Think about the positives. Try not to think about their lies, okay?”

           I nodded slowly and let him lead me back to bed. I curled up with him and tried to block out all the words I had read.

           They weren’t true. They weren’t true. They weren’t true.

Masterpost

Tag List: @jazzwoman897 @take-my-life-not-my-heart @gurveersidhuu @kimmiestrawberrykiwi @annoyingcolorcycle @kimberlydyan @darkrose97

[tangled23works]

Whatever It Takes

Part 1 - I Won’t Give Up

Also read it on Archive of Our Own

This is something I wrote recently. It’s a favorite trope of mine. Since my time is limited I won’t be able to update it regularly so that is why it’s part one of a series about married olicity. Read it and tell me what you think!

I’m not tagging anyone at the moment but if you’d like me to tag you, ask!

Five weeks after the words “I want a divorce” had been uttered, Felicity stared at her husband. The huge mahogany CEO desk was between them, a symbol of all the irreconcilable differences that had separated them through their marriage.

Oliver Queen was currently dressed to the nines in a gray Armani suit, looking confident and polished in a way that Felicity Smoak, daughter of a cocktail waitress could never hope to be. The Smoaks were the complete opposites of the Queens and that should have been her first clue that this marriage was going to fail spectacularly.

She tried to focus on Oliver but truth be told, she was a little bit overwhelmed by the entire situation. The moment she had entered the office for their scheduled appointment he had dropped a major bomb. “I’m not signing these papers, Felicity.” God, the way he had said those words had grated on her nerves. So calm, so easy, so implacable… As if she had brought him Chinese for dinner and he had replied with an ‘I’m not going to eat that, Felicity’ . Such a difficult man to love. Such a difficult man to divorce.

“And why not?” she finally asked when she had found her bearings.

She needed to learn the proper legal procedure for this. Felicity had no idea how one was supposed to divorce a husband that didn’t actually want to be divorced. But she needed to be prepared. Because if he had decided that he didn’t want to be separated from her, he would fight her every step of the way. Oliver Jonas Queen was a fracking force of nature.

She was planning to contact her lawyer and then to Google for possible solutions when she noticed that the silence had stretched for too long and that his ridiculously attractive eyebrow was raised in a way that meant that he was waiting for her to focus. So she forced herself to pay attention and raised an eyebrow of her own. He didn’t laugh at her pathetic attempt. Not that he would have anyway because Oliver Queen and smiling were two things totally incompatible.

“I thought that would be obvious. I’m not signing them because I don’t want to be divorced.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to be divorced?” she asked, exasperated. “There is no reason for us to be married anymore.”

“Isn’t there?” And that annoying eyebrow was raised again.

“From the moment we met, we knew that this had an expiration date. It’s not like you love me or anything,” she fake-laughed.

They had been married for 18 months after all and for most of that time she had wished nothing more for her husband to love her. She had wished and prayed and thought of several ridiculous ways to make that happen. But it never had. Felicity Smoak would never be loved by Oliver Queen.

“Nevertheless,” he began, not bothering to deny any of what she had just said, “we are a couple and I’d like us to remain one.”

“You know, Oliver… Sometimes even I believe that you are a robot like everyone says you are.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath and was afraid that she had hurt him somehow. However, it didn’t take him more than a few seconds to recover from that verbal jab.

“Sweetheart,” the word sounded so hollow that Felicity felt like crying, “you know better than most that’s not true.”

He was talking of course about their sex life and he was not wrong. If there was one thing that they had been good at, it was sex. Until it had become a burden that she couldn’t bear any longer. Not because he was hurting her. Oliver would never, not in a million years hurt her. At least physically speaking. No, the truth was that he didn’t have any feelings for her and eventually, she had been unable to respond. It seemed that some part of her couldn’t deal with that anymore. Having sex while he didn’t give a shit about her had started to feel a lot like torture.

Felicity cleared her throat. “Anyway, you still haven’t given me one single reason why we should remain married.”

“Because of the contract you signed on your own free will. And based on that document, you have to wait at least five years before filing for divorce. I know that you’re the math whiz here but by my estimation, 18 months is not enough time.”

“When we agreed to get married, we thought Isabel Rochev had a chance at taking your company and destroying the family name. Now that she’s out of the picture, there’s no need for you to have a wife.”

“There’s every need,” he countered. He didn’t yell or even raise his voice but she knew that he was getting pissed. “Give me a chance. And if I fail, I’ll let you back out of the agreement.”

“Oh Oliver,” she said, feeling uncountably sad, “marriage is not a QC project. Better people than us have tried and failed. You cannot force personal relationships to succeed like you did with the company.”

“I can try.”

She studied him for a long moment. His clear blue eyes, his scruffy, square jaw, the way his hands rested on top of the desk and realized something.

“You’re really not going to sign the papers, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” he replied softly.

“And I can’t say or do anything to convince you otherwise?”

He shook his head.

“When you say you need time to try, how much time are we talking about?”

“Give me six months.”

“Six months? That’s too long.”

“No, it’s really not. In about six months we will have been married for two years so no one will be able to accuse us of giving up if we actually get divorced.”

Ah, so that was his problem. Of course, the son of Moira and Robert Queen cared more about what other people had to say than the fact that his wife didn’t want to live with him anymore. Appearances mattered to the Queens; people, not so much.

“I need time to think about it.”

“You’ve had five weeks, Felicity. More than enough time.”

“So, I’m assuming you want to move back in?”

During their separation, Oliver had been staying at The Strand. It was a weird choice. Although the luxurious hotel was considered one of the best in Star City and Felicity could easily imagine the CEO of Queen Consolidated booking a suite there, she thought it strange that he hadn’t chosen to stay at his parents’ house.

“Yes. I’ll ask Diggle to bring my things to the loft later.”

“Okay. By the way,” she said nonchalantly, “you’re staying in the guest room.”

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Oliver. I might have agreed to prolong this marriage for six months but you’re not going to sleep with me until I think it’s a good idea.”

“And how am I supposed to fight for us when you’re sleeping upstairs, as far away from me as possible?”

“That was the least of our problems, Oliver.”

His blue eyes narrowed. “What was our most important problem then?”

“The fact that you have no idea who I am. You don’t even see me,” she admitted. It was painful but it had to be said. She could have also added ‘You wish I was Laurel Lance’ but this was not the time or place for that particular discussion.

When he didn’t comment on that, Felicity sighed. Getting Oliver to talk about feelings was like trying to convince Moira Queen to eat a burger at Big Belly. Unfortunately, neither of these things was ever going to happen.

Frustrated with this whole conversation and his refusal to cooperate, Felicity walked towards the door.

“Anyway, I have to go. Tell Dig I’ll see him later at the loft. Bye Oliver.”

John Diggle was the only person in Oliver’s life that didn’t think of her as the cute but worthless wife. Instead, he treated her like an actual person which was very rare in the life of Star City’s rich and famous. And that was why he was her favorite by far.

“I’m glad to see you again, Mrs. Queen.”

“Oh my God, Dig! If you don’t start calling me Felicity, I’ll hack your bank accounts and donate all your money to Greenpeace.”

“Great cause,” he laughed. “Where should I put Mr. Queen’s stuff?”

“In the guest bedroom.”

He quirked an eyebrow but didn’t comment further. Oliver’s bodyguard was a huge black man who had fought in Afghanistan before dedicating his life to protecting her husband. There was a story behind Dig’s decision to abandon the military in favor of following Oliver Queen around but Felicity was not privy to it.

“So, did you take him back or what?” he asked in that no-nonsense way of his when he returned.

“Or what.”

“Hmm,” Dig murmured.

“What? If you have something to say, just say it. Everyone else has an opinion on my relationship. After all, you might be the only person in this city who understands Oliver Queen.”

Dig folded his arms. “No one understands that boy,” he scoffed.

Felicity giggled. Hearing someone call her very mature and intimidating husband a boy would never stop being funny.

“Seriously though, if you decide to give him a chance you should do it with your whole heart.” He pointed towards the guest bedroom. “Sleeping away from each other is not going to bring you any closer.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, Dig. Our marriage is a façade. I wanted this to work so much. And I am the only one that tried. I tried until I lost sight of who I am. Maybe it’s time I focused on myself for a change.”

“Focusing on yourself is great but it’s not the way to save a marriage.”

“Then what is the way? Tell me because I have no idea. My parents got divorced when I was 7 years old. I don’t exactly have the best example of a healthy relationship in my life.”

He seemed to think about it for a while. “Well, from my experience the best way is to talk to each other. Communication. That’s the big idea.”

“Does that actually work?”

Dig gave her a soft smile. “It worked for me. I married the same woman twice after all.”

“Really?” Felicity asked, open-mouthed. She couldn’t even think of a universe where John Diggle and Lyla Michaels were not a couple. To hear that they had ever been divorced was a shock.

Dig checked his beeping cellphone and muttered an apology. “Oh no, John! You don’t get to share a juicy tidbit like that and then leave.”

The big man just chuckled. “Maybe some other time, Mrs. Queen. Alright?”

“Fine,” she pouted. Felicity hated mysteries with a passion.

“Just think about what I said. And remember, no matter who you think Oliver Queen is, he isn't a guy that gives up.”

"Maybe, giving up is the only option. Maybe, there's nothing left for him here."

[imgilmoregirl]

A Rose of the Forbidden Love

AO3 Link

Notes: Oh, God, I'm back! I'm so sorry for the lack of update, writer's block had taken me.

Chapter Sixteen

She was wearing black, but that morning at the church, everybody was. Rose wasn’t sure if she wanted to stand near the rest of the family or if it would be right for her to do it, as she wasn’t even a recognised relative of the Gold’s, but as soon as Adam saw her, he walked straight towards Rose and pulled her into a tight hug. For a long moment, she didn’t know what to do. She had hugged him many times before, but ever since Rosalie found out she was his daughter, she didn’t allow herself to look for him again.

People were staring at them and all she could do was to hide her face on his shoulder and breath in. He was suffering and even though she was still conflicted about her past, Rose couldn’t deny the fact that she liked Adam Gold very much and that he had been the father she needed ever since he found her, so she held him close and let him stay by her side during the whole funeral. Rosalie only left her father’s side when Belle appeared and she excused herself outside, where she met up with Neal.

They talked for a while about his new apartment and how happy he was to be finally able to bring Emma and their son to the town. Rose made plans of having lunch with them once they were settled and they watched as Fiona was finally buried before he offered himself to take her home. Neal dropped her at her building and Rose climbed up the stairs to her flat, finding her best friend cradling her daughter.

"Two funerals in the same week… It must be a record," Sabine said as she fell on the couch with a sigh.

Izzy was nestled on her arms, sucking at her own fist and blinking her deep brown eyes at her mother, Rose smiled at her reaching to take the baby from her friend's arms and kiss the top of her head. From all the madness of the last year and a half, little Isabelle was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she wouldn't change one thing about the past if it was to have her there.

"Yeah, at least I got some time to spend with Izzy."

No one was working on the company, in respect of Ivy's memory and Rose took the week to stay with her daughter a bit, while trying to help Roland cope with his wife's death. He still felt guilty and the messages Victoria Belfrey kept sending him didn't help with anything. Sabine brought a basket full of muffins from the kitchen and placed it on the coffee table for them, making Rose sigh happily. She was hungry and couldn't wait to bet a bit, but she was interrupted by the knock on the door.

"Is Roland coming over?" Sabine asked.

"No," Rose said. "I'm not expecting anyone."

Sabine arched and eyebrow at this, but moved to the door anyway, opening it to let out a loud squeal as she threw her arms around the woman behind it.

"Jacinda," she screamed. "Oh my God, I was missing you like crazy."

At the sound of this, Rose stood up looking at the two girls standing in there, happily holding each other and she quickly made her way to them, pushing Sabine aside to huge Jacinda too,

"I called you for months and you ignored me, silly girl."

"I know,” the Latina said, pulling away to glance down at her face. “Don't you hate me?"

"What? Never," Rose guaranteed. "You're just not allowed to play the nanny again."

Jacinda laughed, her eyes moving to the baby girl Rosalie was holding and handed to her. Of courses she knew she was never going to be alone with little Izzy, but it was good to know Rose didn’t resent her.

"In this case I'm glad to be home."

The days at the company were both a blessing and a pain for her. Rose loved her work, she loved to talk with her friends and plan for the next fashion show, what she didn’t like however was having to see her mother every day. She always saw in Belle’s eyes that she ached to have a conversation with her, but Rose didn’t feel ready for that, not even after Fiona confessed all the things she did and that eventually made Belle give her away.

There was this huge part of her, the one attached at her childhood memories, that made her feel the pain all over again whenever she thought about the many nights she spent crying, wishing she had a family. Someone – anyone – that would care for her. It was tormenting to keep thinking about that, so Rose just didn’t, she spent most of her time with Roland, trying to help him somehow, while they settled things in their apartment.

It was Sunday night and they were building up some new furniture, Rose sat on the floor, working with a few pieces of wood as he finished his work, adjusting a drawer to her dresser.

“I need to say,” he started, “I’ve never seen Henry look as happy as he did when Jacinda called him to say she was back.”

“I feel bad that I was the reason Jacinda felt like she needed to leave,” Rosalie said, trying to understand which piece went where.

A chuckle left Roland’s mouth as he sat by her side and took the wood from her hands, nailing it to the bigger slab without much effort. Rose definitely hadn’t been born for this kind of work, she’d modelling, or selling stuff, or anything else that did not involve building furniture.

“She lost Izzy, babe, this is not exactly a forgivable thing.”

“Yeah, but she is my friend and Izzy is fine now,” Rose pointed out with a little smile coming up to her lips. “Chubby, giggling and perfect.”

“In fact, she is.”

Although he was smiling, Roland’s eyes were fixed in an invisible point. She knew that look very well by now, it was the same he always wore when he was lost in thoughts. Dark thoughts, she needed to add. Rosalie reached to touch his forehead, brushing the hair away so she could call for his attention, making his dark-brown eyes look up at hers – some shades lighter.

“Rol, is Victoria still bothering you?”

“No, she stopped calling,” he told her. “I feel bad about Ivy, Rose, I really do, but I can’t spend my life blaming myself because of what she did, I need to start over with the family that should have been mine from the start.”

She nodded, pulling him into her embrace, kissing his cheek and letting him hold onto her as if she was his salvation. Rose loved him so very much that she wanted to take all of his pain away and, for a second, she wondered if what her parents felt, was the same. Was her mother so in love with her father that she would do anything for him? Had she, someday felt the same unconditional bond to her as she did to Izzy?

“We are going to do this Roland and we will do this right this time,” Rose promised him. “The three of us.”

He pulled away from her, just enough so he could cup her face in his hands and press an endearing kiss to her lips.

Rose was late for dinner with Neal’s family. It was all Alice’s fault. She had spent way too much time trying on new make-up styles on her, which meant they run late for the photoshoot and it just made the whole day a bit more complicated to her. Alone in the dressing room, she pulled on her jeans and t-shirt before reaching for the dress she had wore earlier, rushing to take it to Jessy, the girl who run their laundry section, when she heart the door opening behind her and realised that Belle was standing there.

She turned around very slowly, not feeling really ready for it. Rose and Belle had been balancing around each other for too long now and whenever Belle tried to approach, Rosalie would step away – ran away, actually. What Fiona said, had made her rethink the way she had been treating her mother lately, but although Rose didn’t want to be rude with her anymore, she also didn’t want to talk. The long, tense silence between them wasn’t something she wanted to break, but apparently, her mother did.

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you? That you were perfect,” Belle started. “Both times. And in the second one I didn’t even know you were my daughter.”

Shaking her head, she considered walking pass Belle and simply leaving – she was really late by now.

“I didn’t want to give you up, Rose. I know you must feel like I was mad and cruel, because now you’re a mother yourself and I’m sure that you look at your beautiful daughter and wonder how someone could leave behind something so precious like that,” she told her. “But you don’t know poverty. You may have grown in an orphanage, but you always had food on the table and clothes to wear, I didn’t. We were living in the worse conditions a human being can find itself.”

Rose swallowed hard at these words. The orphanage wasn’t the best place in the world, but at least it was something, she had a bed to sleep on and the nuns were really kind most of the time. She didn’t have a family, but Rose never knew the reality her mother talked about either.

“I – I’ve never considered that.”

Belle’s lips tightened as she traced the line of her arm with a finger. Her blue eyes were sad, the colour getting darker in the yellow lights of the room, almost matching the tone of the blouse she wore.

“I couldn’t afford to buy anything. I was starving, the winter had arrived and you couldn’t stop crying because you were cold and this thin white blanket I had wasn’t enough to keep you warm,” Belle continued. “We were both going to die and as much as I had accepted my fate, I couldn’t bear to think such an innocent life would be lost so little after it begun. I wanted you to live, so I gave you away.”

“You’re rich now. It seems you’ve worked things out,” Rose remarked.

The brunette nodded at her. The way she spoke in such a broken, suffocated voice made Rosalie’s blood feel cold in her veins. She was actually pitying Belle, because she couldn’t imagine herself going through the same thing with Izzy. Her baby was so small and hopeless that living in a dirty place with nothing to eat was simply unacceptable.

“I did, but it took me time and most nights I went to bed with an empty stomach. No tears left to cry,” the mother said. “Then I met this guy, Gaston. I didn’t love they way I love Adam, but he was nice to me and he helped me to become who I am today. He promised that if I found you, he would treat you like his own daughter.”

“And why… Why didn’t you look for my real father?” Rose questioned. “He could have helped if you told him you were with child.”

“He had gone to Italy, Rose. It is not easy to find someone who is living in another country, even more if you don’t have a penny to spend in your quest.”

Taking a deep breath, Rosalie nodded, clutching at the dress she was holding.

“I can’t understand what you’ve been through because I have never been in your place, but I know I would do anything to protect my daughter. Even if it killed me inside.”

Her mother waved her head positively and she considered saying something else, but it wasn’t the right time and Neal was waiting for her, so she just left.

Roland was having a talk with Neal while Emma helped Henry to finish his dinner and Rose fed Izzy with a bottle of formula. She was reclined on an armchair, eyes focused on her baby’s face when she heard steps coming from behind them, but she didn’t need to look up to know who it was. They had barely talked during that night and Rose was feeling rather awkward with it, but she didn’t know what to say to Gold when he kept looking at her as if he was expecting her to suddenly come to accept everything.

She was trying. Slowly, but she really was, however pressure wasn’t going to help with anything. He didn’t say anything though, as he took a seat on the couch near her, nervously tapping his fingers to his ankle.

“I didn’t know you’d be here, child. Neal didn’t tell me,” he said, sincerely.

“Yeah, he didn’t tell me either,” Rose sighed. “But he is a nice friend who’s trying to help us… I wanted you to know, that I’m not angry with you. I’m actually very happy that we met. You’re a good father to me.”

Gold blinked away some tears, reaching out a hand to stroke her face.

“Thank you, sweetheart. That’s just what I needed to know,” Adam smiled fondly at her, making Rose’s heart warm up. “Can I hold my grandchild?”

Rosalie nodded and handed the baby to him, watching as he kissed her daughter’s forehead so affectionally and deciding that if he had known from the start, then he would have been the most wonderful father that she could have ever asked for.

[iamwhelmed]

Win One, Have Two: Chapter 4

Let me preface this with an apology to all of you. I know I’ve skipped updates for over two months now, and I’m so so sorry about that. A huge load of things happened, and they happened all in a row. My birthday, and then my entire family got sick enough that I had three or four nosebleeds and my mother considered antibiotics. As of today, we’re still not all quite over that. And then, in late November, I lost my cat. She was my whole world. I loved her. She was older than I was and this was coming for a long time, but it still hit me, and it hit me hard. I won’t go into all of the details, but for a few weeks there I just couldn’t find the inspiration to write-- er, well, anyway. I had to write something for my creative writing class and... let’s just say it’s one of my least favorite pieces. Either way, I’d lost inspiration long before this train of events hit, and the train only made it worse. However, I think as a writer, one needs to push theirself, even if they don’t feel like writing, to write. That’s how we grow-- the difference between a hobbyist and an author is that one finishes their work. I intend to finish this fanfic, dammit. Anyway, here are the links on AO3 and fanfiction.net. Hope this extra long chapter was worth the wait!

Here it is on AO3

Here it is on Fanfic.net

He was early, he thought, glancing down at his watch-- early by a day. Ed snickered to himself and climbed the steps up the Guerra dojo, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Isabel was never a fan of surprises, but he had a feeling this would be different-- after all, it’d been a little over two weeks since he’d last seen her, last saw her smile and felt her nearly lift him off his feet. He was growing stronger, gaining muscle and therefore weight, and she wouldn’t be able to do that past the the next season, but for the moment he’d enjoy it. She probably wouldn’t be too proud to be lifted off of her feet, but he’d certainly try to repay the favor.

It was silently that he pressed his palms against the door and inched it open. There were a few grunts, and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor along with the occasional yelp-- telltale signs of a sparring match. He pressed further in, peeking inside with a grin.

Isabel and Dimitri moved back and forth, throwing punches and kicks and dodging each blow all the same as they bent forward and backward in a limbo, in a dance. Isabel winced when Dimitri’s hand came too close to her head, brushing by the tip of her ear as she sidestepped and brought her forearms up to block a surprise blow to her chest. Dimitri seemed less distressed than she was, but Ed could see the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his head. He plopped down on crossed legs by the doorway, setting patient hands in his lap as he watched them duke it out. It’d been a year or so since he’d last seen the Activity Club’s strongest have at it-- a treat he was beginning to realize he’d sorely missed.

Isabel’s sidestep left Dimitri falling forward with the force of his fist, and she took the opportunity to throw her arms around his waist and dig her head into his stomach, sending both of them falling to the ground. She’d been set on cornering him, then, too distracted to notice the way Dimitri tangled their legs on the way down, use the twist of his heel to change their momentum. She squeaked as she landed back-first on the floor, Dimitri pinning her with his hands locking her by the elbows to the floor. She squinted at him from behind the one eye that wasn’t covered in her unruly bangs, and he smirked at her the way Dimitri smirked at everybody, but with a blood-boiling hint of smugness in the glint of his eye. He leaned down, close enough that his nose was hardly an inch from her own, and whispered. “You’ve gotten stronger, Iz, but not strong enough.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

He wasn’t expecting her legs to wrap around his upper body, or for her to use that surprise to flip him over her head. He exhaled, sharply, and grunted as she flipped over on top of him, knee pressing against his stomach, hands curled around his shirt, tugging him up as she leaned down. She gave him her own haughty grin. She didn’t realize her breathing was labored until she spoke, or that Dimitri’s lungs were just as constricted. “Is that strong enough for you?” He took a moment to process how she’d won, or more accurately that he hadn’t, then snorted and smiled, lips, which her eyes-- for some weird reason-- fell to without her explicit permission, parting to say something.

And then there was a whistle.

They turned to look so fast they might have made themselves dizzy, eyes falling to their secret audience, who was then standing and clapping with a smile as wide as his face. “That was so cool, Izzy! Man, where’d you learn that? No way the old man has started teaching you judo.”

Dimitri blinked, and in the next moment he’d been dropped to the floor, suddenly much lighter without the weight of a second person towering over him. “Ed!” He sat up with one hand rubbing his head, eyebrow rising as Isabel rushed into Ed’s arms, wrapping her own around his neck as he took advantage, digging his head into the volume of her hair, of her neck, with a face so bright he’d have thought he was a man home from war. Isabel was no less buoyant than the enduring wife, laughing and swinging herself around and squeezing him closer every time Ed so much as made a move to pull away. Dimitri frowned.

Then he shook his head and smiled, and raised a hand. “Ed! Long time no see, my man.”

The two finally pulled away from their embrace, and Ed waved back with a grin and a flick of his wrist.

Isabel’s eyes met Dimitri’s, wide and-- good lord, glowing. “We were just sparring, since our resident AWOL club member is a little rusty.” She stuck her hands on her hips, and he snorted to the side, gazing at her in his peripheral.

“I must be if I let you pull what you just did…”

Her smile doubled in size, and he could have sworn the shimmer in her eyes diminished to a dull brown, sharp, like a predator, like an animal. Isabel turned and nudged Ed with the bend of her arm, playfully. “What do ya say? Wanna face the winner?”

He and Ed locked eyes, and for a second, just a second, there was a question hanging in the air-- something unspoken, something he wasn’t even sure Ed knew himself to be asking. Dimitri shrugged and leaned forward over his knee, and from there, Ed sprung to life again. “I’m as ready as a lunatic preparing for the apocalypse!”

“What do you mean you haven’t found anything? You’re the police! He’s a missing rich kid! What could possibly be higher on your priority list, woman?”

Suzy, Collin knew, was a fierce girl, and would become all the more tiger-like as the years passed them by, and he thought for sure that, given time… she’d get herself brutally murdered, or locked in a high-security prison. He’d just hoped, prayed, wished on several wishing wells and multitudes of tossed coins in fountains, that he would not be present, nor an accomplice when that day came.

The woman, the small, bony, wide-eyed woman, no younger than fifty, trembled in the presence of Suzy’s wrath, fingers shaking so terribly that she couldn’t even type a word, although Suzy had echoed the command like a mantra: Look up Isaac O’Connor. Has the case been solved? Any traces?

He wasn’t about to tell her they probably wouldn’t share that sensitive information with a couple of middle school kids, and he doubted the poor thing she was terrorizing would. “I-I’m afraid we h-haven’t found anything new, yet--”

“Are you serious right now?” Suzy pointed to the keyboard with one rigid finger, teeth grinding as each word fell from the wall of bone with a hiss. “Look. Again.”

“I-I’m sorry, miss! There’s simply nothing else to be done! Our men a-are working very hard to find your friend! I-I’m sure he’ll--” She squeaked when Suzy’s fist came down upon the desk, shuffling and unsettling stacks of papers, sending white sheets flying and swaying in the dead air of the police station. She wrenched her back against her desk chair until it hit the other side of her circular desk, wincing the more Suzy leaned closer.

“I don’t want excuses, Margaret! I want results!”

Collin sighed and pulled away from the front revolving door where he’d been standing; the red of Suzy’s cheeks meant trouble was brewing, and he didn’t want to be around to hear the tea kettle sound. “Suzy,” he set one hand on her shoulder, pulling her an inch or two off of the front desk, which she was near laying across by that point. “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” He winced, unprepared for the level of “shrill” in the height of her tone. “How can I calm down?” She raised one hand, gesturing to the frail woman behind the desk, who’d taken the opportunity to step away-- presumably to get help. “How can I calm down? These nicompoops can’t find one blue-eyed ginger kid, and I’m the one out of line?”

“Yes! Now come” he tugged at her arm “on!”

Her feet skidded against the floor, and though she waved around and pulled back and dug her heels into the floor, he somehow managed to wrench his arms enough to get her out the front door, down the front stoop. She tried to snatch her wrist away as soon her her toes tipped into the final step, and he let her. “What” she huffed, and he wondered, sardonically, if she’d tired even her lungs out with all the screaming she’d just done. He felt a deep, connected sympathy for the poor child she’d presumably have one day, then cringed and swept away the thought of Suzy as a mother immediately. “What did you do that for?”

“You are literally going to get yourself arrested.”

“For what? Complaining?”

“No! For being a public disturbance! In a police station!” He gestured to the still-swinging doors and the mess she’d left on the other side of them. “That’s like going to a train convention before proceeding to mock trains as the inferior public transit system!”

Suzy blinked at him, then glanced to the station doors, then back at him, and crossed her arms. “So?”

“So?” Collin bit down on his lip so hard he was sure it was going to start bleeding, swallowing the complete and utter disbelief and resentment that was starting to swell within him at a more alarming rate-- and higher volume-- than usual.

But blowing up and ranting at her about the poor ethics of the life she led was going to do nothing but get him drowned out like always. He had to be smarter about this-- had to be more like Dimitri about this.

He ran both his hands down his face and sighed into them. “Suzy, look,” he pressed his palms together and placed them at his chest, mildly surprised when she looked at him instead of through him, blue eyes narrowed, but for once, focused. “I miss Isaac, too. I’m worried about him. There are a lot of things that can happen to a missing kid our age out there and few of them are good-- but listen to me. There’s gotta be a better way of going about this.”

Suzy’s nose wriggled and she pouted up at him from when her downturned chin was set, looking like a scolded child as she wrung her fingers through the sleeves of her pink jacket. He would have been more in awe if he wasn’t so worried he’d lose her attention; there was something tamed about Suzy when she was quiet, when she was thinking and not scheming, and the serenity made her something to observe, like the return of the ocean after a tsunami, or the white flag on a battlefield as either army slept through the night. He couldn’t help but think that he should have taken a page out of Dimitri’s book a long time ago. She huffed. “Like what?”

She’d listened to him. She’d really listened! “I’m not sure, but maybe Mister Spender will have some ideas?”

Suzy sprung back to life then, tamer than before, but still fiery and still spoiled. “I don’t wanna ask him for help!”

Collin blinked, hands falling to his sides. Of all the--? “What? Why not?”

Her cheeks bloomed red, and she stomped her foot on the sidewalk for good measure, hands balling into fists. “I just don’t want to, all right!” She passed him by, then, each step as heavy as the irritation radiating off of her, almost like the auras Isaac had once described, and he watched her with a curl in his lip and furrow in his brow.

She must have been six, maybe five, and Catriona wondered how she was already seeing spirits-- how she already felt comfortable enough around them to be playing with them so carelessly, so freely. She could hear the girl’s mother somewhere, in the distance, like a bird chirping completely unaware of the woodsman coming to chop down its tree.

She placed a hand against the tree she took as cover, watching the child from the shadows as the spirit led her to and fro, from one end of the small stone bridge to the other. It was small, small enough to fit into the palm of her tiny hand, and fast, and it flew, in all probability the factor that drew the little girl to chase. It was cute, Catriona supposed, with a bushy tail like a squirrel and paws tinier than the smallest leaf, pure white with a stroke a red along its head to its hind end. Its ears twitched when the girl giggled, beady red eyes blinking back at her because it had no mouth to chirp back.

Catriona was sure it meant no harm.

Meant.

Perhaps it was a misstep, or the culprit was the sleekness of the stone after it’d rained in the early morning.

She slipped. She slipped and stumbled into the running river below, into the heavy crash of wave after wave as her small arms reached helplessly above the raging waters. Her mother drew closer, then. Probably heard the splash.

“Aggie!” Her mother was, understandably, panicked, eyes wide, hands shaking, screaming and reaching a powerless hand out to the wandering, blind fingers of her child. Catriona grimaced, licking her lip and cracking her knuckles.

“Love, I’m going in.”

Though she heard no response, she could feel his approval-- warmth, then something hotter, a passion, a drive.

The little girl, Aggie, floated down the river, out of sight of her mother, who’d only just begun climbing off her knees to chase her down the forestside. She called out to her all the while, heart racing, pounding like the veins in her chest were ready to pop, a hand outstretched in fear, in so much fear. She could only see the tips of her baby’s tallest fingers, overarching the water only enough to draw the attention of the only audience she had. “Aggie! Aggie, hold on! Hold on, baby!”

“It’s okay!” She paused, nearly tripping over her own two feet as a black-gloved hand raised in the air behind the bend of the river and trees, fingers beckoning her closer. “Aggie, right? I caught her, she’s fine!”

Lo and behold, just around the corner, she found a woman with hair the color of an orange sky-- the sunset-- holding a soaking wet Aggie in her oddly-covered arms. But that was her least concern, not when her baby was reaching out to her with tears in her eyes, fingers opening and closing with every inch she reached for her mother’s embrace. With a gasp, with a choked sigh, with a smile, she took her daughter in her arms and swung her around in a circle, holding her close, taking in breaths of her damp hair and laughing to herself as tiny hands clasped at her blouse. She turned to the stranger, her hero, hero daughter’s savior, and took in her odd state of dress with less scrutiny and more curiosity.

Her dress was long and formal and black, as though she’d stepped fresh out of a church, out of a money man’s funeral, though the lengthy slits on either side of her long, slim legs gave that thought pause. The woman smiled and straightened out her dress, shifting the shoulders so the straps of her off-shoulder neckline fell, well, off the shoulder and not on, giving her a smile as she set her hands at her hips. “My, my, little one, your mommy should be more careful with such an adventerous soul like yourself.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The stranger raised both hands defensively, eyes wide and lips curved. “Oh, dear, no, I’m not scolding you! No need to apologize! I was the same way, myself, when I was her age. My mother had quite the handful to deal with.”

She sighed and offered the stranger her hand, surprised when she took it to feel nothing but warmth. How were her hands not wet? Come to think of it, she looked untouched by even the wind, let alone water or the dirt of the forest floor. Odd... “My name is Mari. This is Aggie. I was-- I was so busy watering Mister Carver’s yard, you see, I’m a gardener, that I hardly noticed there was a river nearby and--!”

“You take your daughter to work with you? Well,” the stranger leaned forward and pressed a finger to Aggie’s nose, who giggled. “That seems an odd practice for a woman in this day-and-age. Does your boss know about this?”

“No! But I’ve been trying to find a proper daycare, I really have! It’s just that everyone is full, and babysitters are so expensive in this neighborhood--!”

“Lucky I’ve run into you, then!” The woman reached out of her pocket-- that dress had pockets?-- and held it out for her to take. “You see, I’ve just started my own daycare service, and I’m yet to find any children to, er, look after. Now that you mention it, it must be because they’re all already in established daycare communities.” She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and smiled. “My name’s Catriona. I’d say you and I need each other!”

Mari had only just finished typing her home phone number into the stranger’s-- Catriona’s-- contacts before she all but shoved the phone into her hands. “Yes! Please! Thank you so much! Give me a call at 8:30 when I get off and we’ll set our schedules out, okay?”

Mari and Aggie disappeared over the hill from which they’d came, and for a moment, Catriona felt deeply satisfied. She ran one hand over her arm and sighed. “My only regret is that you and I could never bear a child.”

She could feel him, his essence, enclose around her, then, drag her into his realm with all his stars and lights and the empty black sky. There was something so reassuring about his world, something so welcoming, though his space mirrored nothing but the emptiness of the night sky and the land above the clouds. “I know, my love.” He set a hand on her shoulder, and effortlessly, she fell back against his chest, placing one hand over his own. “Though, perhaps now, we could have a family.” She glanced over her shoulder to find him looking back at her. They smiled as she laced their fingers together.

“Max! My boy! You’re just who we’re looking for!”

Max squeaked and jumped three feet in the air, clutching the family album he held squarely against his chest. Dad peeked around the corner of the kitchen, and though Zoey didn’t go to poke her head out, too, he had a feeling she was in the other room, making popcorn; she had to, otherwise it’d be left up to their dad, who had a bad habit of decking each bowl in so much black pepper and salt (and sugar?), it became inedible for anybody but himself. Max had the sneaking suspicion he planned it that way. “What? Why?”

“We’re going to get a round of D&D in! You up for a fight against an ogre? Now mind you this is very different from the ogre from the last game! This one is the king of resentment, the last one was the king of righteous unfounded anger.”

Max sighed. He got enough monster-fighting a month ago, and if he never saw another monster for as long as he lived, until he died and started roaming the world as a ghost (because he would unarguably stick around just to do sick scooter tricks in the afterlife), it would be too soon. Besides, there was something he wanted to do…

“Sorry, dad. Maybe another night.”

His dad might have called after him again, he’d been clingy like that lately, but he stuck to pretending he hadn’t heard him over the slam of his door. He padded, slowly, over to his bed and climbed atop, resting his back against the headboard as he flittered the front pages of their family album open.

I just need to think for a little while.

He stopped on the latest pictures of his mom, pictures around maybe a year, maybe a month, before… He exhaled through his nose and smiled to himself, thumb running over her face as she tried to pick out a slice of cake in the heated window of a Baxborough bakery in the upper city. He always told himself, that if he could do it again, if he could go back and say things he hadn’t said, or take back things he had-- Max grimaced.

And yet, there he was, thinking the same thing again. He hadn’t learned anything the first time around, and now…

He ran his thumb over her picture again, wondering if he’d get it right a third time.

Isaac could only take a gasp of air before he was lurching over the toilet of another state park bathroom, hands clenching the side of the bowl like safety bars on a rollercoaster. His stomach clenched and he was throwing up all over again. His hands were clammy, and his entire body was sweaty, hot, leaving the bandages on his body clinging to him like a second skin.

His stomach wavered, and for a moment he thought his body was calming, that he could finally take a moment to breath.. And then he tasted bile in his throat and his face was once again uncomfortably close to the toilet bowl.

It took another fifteen minutes for the vomiting to stop, and another five for him to clean up. He left the bathroom with his hands in his pockets, feet swaying from side to side, but he could still walk… a little.

Why was he sick? He’d thought he’d taken all of the necessary precautions to keep his wounds uninfected, keep his body healing-- what had he missed? As far as he could tell, the wound in his arm was scabbing over, as was his eye (though it still stung like a fresh wound when he cleaned his face), and he’d cauterized the wound in his abdomen without it opening up on him. That was all he had to do, right? He frowned. The lever had been rusty… had he given himself tetanus? He’d had all of his shots?

He winced as his stomach once again became unsettled, raising one hand to set it against the churning skin. Not good. He was starting to get dizzy. He winced and watched the park move on around him, trying to clear his eyes. He could make out a dog catching a frisbee in the top of his mouth, hear the proud owner egging and cheering him on to bring it back to her “like a good boy”. He could make out a couple-- he thought, were they holding hands? Locking arms? Oh no, the world was starting to spin.

Isaac paused and tried to steady himself, closing his eyes and clutching the fabric of his jacket.

He could hear children laughing, hear people jogging by and the loud music pounding out of their earphones. There were girls giggling, gossiping, and some old woman talking to the birds she was feeding. And then-- police sirens?

Isaac inhaled, sharply, hand twisting into a fist at his stomach, teeth grinding together as his aura grew to tower over him.

Then it was okay. The police cars were only passing by, only chasing down a speeding driver. He was fine. His world was fine. He didn’t notice the woman walking by, didn’t notice her notice him.

He shook his head slowly, to clear it, and took one step forward, then another shaking one, and another, and before he knew it, he was walking to the exit. His aura died down, came to sit right above his shoulders. He didn’t think it’d left him very often in the month he’d been away from Mayview. There was always danger, always something to keep a lookout for. Sometimes it was monsters, surprisingly enough, sometimes it was the spirits he was looking to spend the rest of his time undoing the evil of, and sometimes it was other people.

He took another step forward, and for a moment his vision gave out, blacked out, left him blind and unsure. He squinted and blinked, but he couldn’t move his head freely. When his vision returned, and the world around him came into clearer view, he saw why-- he was face-down on the ground, knees freshly skinned from the brush with the sidewalk, palms of his hands itching and red and stinging. He took a moment to reorient himself, and by the time he did that, he had an audience.

Isaac tried to shoot up, tried to push himself off the ground at the first site of unfamiliar shoes as his feet, but his arms had lost all strength, and he found his mouth full of splintered, cracked concrete in the next moment.

The people around him started whispering, some asking if he was okay, others asking what happened because they hadn’t seen it but they’d noticed the crowd-- crowd, crap.

You’ve got to get up, Isaac. You have to! You’ve come so far, it can’t end like this!

He took a deep breath and pressed his palms to the sidewalk again, willing his arms to work-- work, please, just for a moment-- and still, he fell back to the ground, cheek scraping against the ground. That meant his hoodie had fallen down, which meant--?

“Oh my god! Oh my god, is that that missing boy?”

Isaac grinded his teeth and gathered the strength he didn’t have, using the tops of his feet to push him forward and not his hands to pull him up. Instead, he skidded forward before he could push himself up, and when he was on his legs again, he shoved past the crowd that’d surrounded him, giving every hand that reached to grab him a small shock, incentive to keep away. No bigger than static. He bolted for the woods, pulling the hoodie back over his head and tightening it by the strings.

“Hey, wait!”

A woman’s voice trailed after him, no different than the rest, so he sucked in his grinding stomach and pressed onward.

He didn’t see a woman reach out after him, see her stumbled up to the woods and pause, or her wide eyes as she followed the trail of blood he had no idea he was leaving behind, or see her steel herself and straighten up, hands clenched at her sides.

The next one was a teenager-- younger than the first, maybe fourteen or fifteen. He was alone, on a street corner in the wealthy, artsy area of the town, performing the act of a mime for free, save for the tip jar he’d set clearly to the side. She approached him silently, head tilted, folding her arms over her chest. He’d noticed her, and in an instant he went from pulling an invisible rope to forming an square-- a box-- around himself, went to work pounding against the fake wall soundlessly. His legs slid below him, and he began raising his hands above his head as though the ceiling was-- ah, she nodded-- the box was closing in.

“Do you really feel that box of yours?” He blinked at her, and she shrugged. “Unless, of course, that’s a trade secret?”

He frowned and, rather than forgetting the box he’d “formed” around himself, he pressed open the top and climbed out of it. It was all very impressive to see, especially for a boy so young. He stood up straight, and fixed her with a glare as he crossed his arms over his chest. “A mime isn’t supposed to talk you know?”

She laughed, waving an apologetic hand. “I know, I’m sorry about that. I just, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re performing for people who… aren’t really there?”

He sucked in his cheek and glanced away. “So? Somebody could be watching me from their cozy little apartment, right?”

“I have a feeling that isn’t who you’re performing for.”

He sighed and glanced around, like he was looking for art critics to pop out of nowhere and accuse him of ruining the name of the good ol’ mime. When he looked back at her, his lips were in a thin line. “Look, lady, what do you want? I could be ruining my whole career by talking to you in costume!”

“I don’t want anything, dear, I just want to talk!” She offered him her hand. “My name is Catriona. I think I know who you’re performing for. Tell me, have you had any near-death experiences, dear?”

Isabel was all smiles as she waved Ed and Dimitri off in the evening, which was great because an all-smiles-Isabel was Ed’s favorite Isabel. Even as they came to the front of the tunnel leading to the rest of the city, they could still turn around and see her standing on the front porch of the dojo, waving whenever they’d take a moment to glance back. Ed and Dimitri laughed together and gave her another wave; this time, she laughed too and went back inside.

“I’m glad I got to see Izzy again” Ed had a habit of mumbling to himself these days, the habit of a boy often scolded for his volume, he guessed-- he hadn’t expected Dimitri to hear him.

“Ed.”

“Yeah?”

Dimitri came to a halt, and a few steps later so did Ed. Something had changed in the air, subtly, quietly, but Ed had become more familiar with the world around him, more familiar with the way his lungs seemed to grow heavy--or his heart-- in preparation. Why? Well, that was anyone’s guess. Dimitri always had a lot on his mind, was always thinking, always considering. Ed stood still and waited patiently, while Dimitri stood even stiller aside from the motion of sticking his hands in his pockets. His head was down, and still, he was looking up at him. “You and Iz are still friends, right?”

“Wh-- yes! Of course we are! Best friends! Why? Wh-was it not obvious?”

Dimitri shrugged, eyes falling to the side. “No man, it’s just… it seems like you kinda want more?”

Oh no. No. Not this again. Not from him-- not from the Master Observer of their entire dang club! Ed screamed and tossed his head back, hands pulling and tugging at his hair. “Not you too! We’re just friends! I don’t like Izzy! Why does everybody keep saying that?”

“I don’t know, man” Dimitri usually started to grin there, and for a faint moment he did, and it faded into the same thin line with a downward twitch. “ ‘ts just the way you look at her.”

Ed balled his fists at his sides, face heated enough that he hardly felt the cold air of fall, and he was sure that heat reflected on the red of his cheeks. “Well I don’t like Izzy and I wish everyone would stop” he kicked the dirt “implying I did!”

Dimitri sighed. “Whatever man,” he began walking again, moving past Ed, carrying on down the road where they’d separate-- Dimitri would return to one half of Mayview, and he would return to the other. Ed exhaled through his teeth and followed. “I just thought you should know…”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“If you do like her,” Dimitri paused again, but he had no intention of looking back “you’ve got competition.”

Ed’s hands became dead weight, falling limply on either side of his legs, jaw just as loose.

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: Lights Out

Masterpost

4x20: Lights Out

Lights Out is an episode that had to be massively rewritten since Cory left for rehab at the time.  It’s a bit of a messy episode -- but, surprisingly, there’s more Kurt in it than you might expect.  

Intervention for Santana

Kurt and Rachel are waiting for Santana to come home (and how hilarious is it when she rolls in with that chair, lol).  They found out from Tina (btw - Tina sure does love giving them a ton of gossip) that Santana is now a Go-Go Dancer, and they’re concerned that she’s drifting.  

It’s nice that they have concern for her - which is a far cry from a few episodes earlier when they were wanting to kick her out.  But I do think there’s some merit to a story that explores the fact that some people don’t have their life planned out the way Rachel and Kurt seem to.  And Santana’s trying to figure things out. Now - I kinda wish the show had given Santana something a little more concrete instead of the non-ending that we ended up getting for her.  But it’s nice that they try here. 

Also - it’s funny that Santana mentions that she doesn’t want to be Funny Girl or a singing waiter, which she ends up doing both of in season 5.

Kurt gesturing that Santana has to keep her motor(s) revved.  Lol.  But yeah - Kurt’s the one who suggests taking some dance classes because NYADA apparently has a dance extension course for non-students.  And Santana’s not having any of it, and rolls her eyes at them as she leaves.  

A Return to Vogue

Okay - first of all, yes that line from Isabelle about Chris and Darren (the directors) is probably a nod to our Chris and Darren.  But, no, I’m not going to speculate about the behind-the-scenes stuff that may or may not have inspired it.  It really doesn’t pertain to Kurt’s story - and I’ve said all I’ve wanted to say on the matter in different posts.  

So - this episode kind of takes a look at things that we haven��t seen since the first half of the season.  We learn that Kurt is still working at Vogue.com, though in a much lesser capacity since starting with NYADA.  I’m glad, though, that it hasn’t gone away completely - even if he only mentions Vogue once more in the series.  Also - Isabelle proves to be the best boss ever, as she seems to understand that NYADA is more of a priority - though laments, with the rest of us, that the fashion world is at a loss because he prefers performing arts.  (I do wish they could have framed it that he could do both, but ah well.) 

You know, I have to wonder.  When Kurt first arrived in the city, he dived head first into everything NYC - with Vogue.com, and getting into NYADA and it was all craziness all the time, which of course was part of why things feel apart with Blaine.  But here - Kurt seems to be at some kind of balance, and I wonder if now that he’s settled in a bit more, and has had six months to kind of get used to the city -- if that also helps him feel more comfortable with the idea of getting back together with Blaine.  

He has had a lot of time to heal, too, and has had learned a lot from whatever actually happened with Adam.  And there’s kind of one more big thing that’s weighing on Kurt’s mind that kinda trumps the stuff with Blaine.... 

She also brings up his dad.  And this is the first time since Glee, Actually that we get any kind of follow up on the situation.  And when I think about it - I wonder if this is another one of those things that Kurt feels more comfortable confiding to Isabelle than other people.  I mean, I’m sure Rachel and even Santana know that his dad has cancer.  And Blaine is probably giving him regular updates.  But it’s another one of those things that he probably just doesn’t talk about it.  And Isabelle is the kindest person - whom Kurt does feel safe talking to about it. 

So - we learn that Burt is doing okay, and that the treatments are working, and he’s getting back on his feet again.  So, yay, good things! 

The biggest reason Isabelle has brought Kurt in is that she wants him to be a celebrity wrangler at some ballet gala function thing.  Of course, Kurt is super giddy and excited about this.  And it’s so nice to see Kurt be super giddy and excited about something again.  Of course he’s gonna do it - because if anyone else did - he would literally die. Lol - oh our lovely, overdramatic Kurt. 

And Just When You Thought It Couldn’t Get Any Gayer

Kurt comes bouncing home - overjoyed to tell his roommates that they can all go to this super huge, celebrity-studded ballet event.  Rachel’s bouncing off the walls with him.  Santana thinks it’s dumb. 

And then we get Rachel and Kurt - who apparently both went to the same ballet studio as kids - talking about how ballet changed their lives. Sure, why not.  

But hey BABY KURT flashback.  How adorable is he prancing around.  Kurt’s mom is the one who suggested ballet cause Kurt danced around to Blue’s Clues all the time.  And there were some mean people at that studio who made fun of him.  Boo!  But that’s where Kurt began to grow his thick skin - and even bbKurt was FU to all the haters.  

Santana isn’t moved by people’s past sob stories.  She is however swayed by pretty dresses apparently, as that’s what Kurt uses to get her to join. 

At The Ballet

Hey - they’re at the ballet looking all spiffy in their nice clothes.  And Isabelle has invited them to watch from the wings.  Even Santana - whom they get to admit that even she has taken ballet classes.  Because ballet is the cornerstone of every girl and gay man’s young life (rolls-eyes slightly).  But I mean - hey, it works for this story.  

I don’t know if we needed the whole five minute rendition of At The Ballet.  I mean - the episode comes to a complete stop, and there’s a lot of focus on Isabelle - which is a little weird, cause we don’t get much of her personal story in her very limited appearances on the show.  But, I mean, it’s nicely done.  And we get more flashbacks of bbKurt dancing around and having fun.  

Kurt doesn’t really sing much during the song, but he does have one standout line. 

Every prince has got to have his swan

Which - do with that what you will I suppose.  We can totally make it about Blaine if we want.  But which one is the prince and which one is the swan I wonder? ;) 

And - I mean, there’s the overarching theme that performance takes you away to a place that’s better than the life you’re currently living, and makes you feel safe in this make-believe world.  And I think that’s the point tying into Rachel, Santana, and Kurt’s stories -- how the importance of music in their lives is vital, and how it’s changed them. 

And Isabelle leaves us with her fairy godmother-esque advice.  You can take your time figuring things out, as long as your goal is something that you end up loving - that ends up filling your soul.  And that’s kind of a nice sentiment.  

Goodbye Isabelle! I will miss you! 

[hkvoyage]

Fic: Butterfly Wings - Chapter 30

Story summary A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU. Rating for this chapter: General (overall story is mature) Word count for this chapter: 6,140 Can also be read on A03 / FF Masterpost is here. The fantastic artwork produced by Cassie at CC-Graphics can be here.   Thank you to the amazing @lilyvandersteen for the beta work and support. ***** Surprise! I want Kurt and Blaine back together in this story as much as you do! Therefore, you’ll be getting two updates a week until they reunite. 

***** “As a kid I quite fancied the romantic, Bohemian idea of being an artist. I expect I thought I could escape from the difficulties of maths and spelling. Maybe I thought I would avoid the judgment of the establishment.” - Peter Wright February “I can’t believe I already have 1,850 followers for Surf’s Up! and every day I get more. I only posted a couple of comics on Tumblr a week ago.”

“I told you the webcomic would be a hit. I’m sure it helped that we blogged about it on our Krian accounts,” Blaine replies. “I have a few ideas for the story, but nothing has prepared me for the comments. I’m not sure what to do, because everyone wants Biffy and Jamie to get together.” “It’s way too early, Sam. The guys haven’t even come out of the closet! Don’t you know that the ship gets together at the end?” “Will readers really want to wait until the end? How do I keep the plot going?” “Sam, it’s pretty basic. Use the OMENS plan - Obliviousness, Missed chances, External factors beyond their control, No effective communication, and Smut in small doses. That usually works.” “Cool. I guess it’s the same formula for most Krian fics. It takes a while to create the comics, so I won’t post anything new for another month. Will people wait that long for an update?” Sam asks. Blaine thinks this question over carefully. He really wants Sam to succeed with his Surfs Up! webcomic. “It’s hard to say with only a couple of comics posted, but I have an idea. Why don’t you set up some dummy Twitter accounts for the main characters and get them chatting to each other? It would be an easy way of filling people in on their backgrounds and how they think about things. Give links to the Twitter accounts on your Tumblr master post and people will flock over to see what it’s about. You can even have a few scheduled Twitter Q&A sessions to answer questions about ‘Jiffy’.” “Hey, man. That’s a cool idea. I need to find something to do now that I can’t read KrianFeel’s fics.” “Did I hear you right?! You’re no longer reading KrianFeel’s fics? I never thought this day would come!” “Mercedes has banned me from reading them during her pregnancy. Something about not wanting to deal with so much kinky action in the bedroom.” “Then I’m not going to tell you about yesterday’s update...” “What happened, Blaine? I need all the deets!” Blaine laughs at Sam’s commitment to the story. “The chapter starts with Kevin and Brian doing homework together at their apartment in New York City. They both look up at the same time and realize that all their roommates are out… And they are alone for once. Brian waggles his eyebrows and Kevin gives him that smile – the one he uses when he understands what’s going to happen. The next thing you know, Kevin has Brian spread out on the couch, slowly stripping him of his clothes. Kevin starts to blow Brian, but then at the critical moment – at least from Brian’s point of view because he’s about to climax - Stan returns home. What a cock-block! It ends with a scene where Kevin tells Brian that Stan’s got to find his own place to live.” “Sounds like a filler chapter, so I didn’t miss much,” Sam replies with a deep sigh. So, how’s Mercedes doing? Is the pregnancy coming along nicely?” “That’s why I called you, dude. We went to the doctor’s this morning and Mercedes had a sonogram. I could see the baby! She’s about six inches long, and I could see her head. I could even hear her heartbeat!” “You know the sex of the baby? I thought that wasn’t possible for another month or so,” Blaine asks. “Nope, we don’t know for sure, but I’m certain it’s a girl. I want the baby to be a girl like Mercedes.” “Awww…” Blaine coos. “So dude, I wanted to ask you something important. Will you be baby Evans’ godfather?” “Oh my god! Absolutely! I’m so honored that you asked me.” “Of course I’m asking you. You’re my best bro. Mercedes definitely wants the baby baptized, and I’ll let you know the deets closer to the time. It will probably be after Mercedes’ national tour.” “Count me in. So how is the country and western singing going? Have you found any regular gigs?” “It’s hard to get into the country music scene in LA. I’d be much better off in Nashville, but that isn’t going to happen any time soon. Not with Mercedes recording and going on tour so soon after the baby is born. I’ll need to take care of my baby girl then.” There’s a pause in the conversation and Blaine can tell that Sam is thinking about how to break into the country music business. However, he waits patiently, because Sam will confide in him when he’s ready. “So what’s up with you, Blaine? I saw some pictures of you on Instagram with some tall hot dude.” “Oh… I went out a couple of times with a lawyer I met when I was signing the paperwork for the Westerville Monarch House. Connor is a really great guy, but I’m not sure if I’m going to see him again.” “Why the hell not?” “I like Connor a lot, but he’s never going to be the special one in my life, because he’s not…” “Kurt. Blaine, I know it’s tough but you’ve got to move on. Maybe Connor is your rebound guy.” “Connor doesn’t deserve to be somebody’s rebound guy. I really don’t feel ready to move on. I don’t think I ever will.” “Promise me that you’ll give Connor a chance and go on a few more dates. It’s not like you’re doing anything else and it beats staying home by yourself.” “Maybe,” Blaine sighs. He knows he should give Connor more time to see if things will develop. “Maybe what you need is a change in scenery. Come visit me in LA. It will be totally awesome! I can teach you how to surf and you can hook up with some of the dudes. They’re pretty buff and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind being your holiday rebound guy.” “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want a holiday rebound guy either. I’d love to hang out with you, but I just took some time off in India and went home for Christmas. I’m saving all my vacation time this year for when the Monarch House in Westerville opens.” “Just remember, you’re always welcome to stay.” ***** “Did you see the photos I sent you?” Michael asks. “Yeah, Dad. Monarch House really looks like a construction site now. I can’t believe the renovations already started this week.” “Believe it, son. I’ve gone every day after work to see how it’s progressing. Meagan is handling everything well. I think she’s going to make a brilliant director of the Monarch House. She might not have any experience with a project of this scale, but she’s smart, super organized and really committed.” “I have you and Mom to thank for getting everything sorted out. I could never have done it without you… Both of you. I can’t believe that you got the planning permission through so fast.” “You can thank Burt Hummel for that. It’s amazing what a call from a Congressman can do.” “You know Burt Hummel? Do you know he’s my Kurt’s father?” “I didn’t know Burt before this project. When the press release went out for the purchase of Monarch House, Burt called me. He said he was 100% behind the concept and would help in any way he could. When I mentioned we were waiting for the city council to approve all the plans, Burt said he knew the Westerville mayor very well - something about helping out his teenage daughter when her car broke down one snowy night in Lima. The very next day, the mayor called me and said the plans had been approved.” “Wow, I guess it does pay to have friends in high places. You didn’t… umm… discuss us as well?” “Of course we did, Blaine. How could we not? It was mostly pleasantries about how Kurt is doing in Paris and how you’re doing in New York City. One thing I’ll say is that if Kurt is anything like Burt, you know how to pick them. Burt seems like a decent and honest man.” “Well, don’t leave me hanging, Dad! What is the news on Kurt?” “Kurt is settling in nicely and boarding at an old lady’s house in Central Paris. He’s about to start his first modeling job with Dior. I think it’s a perfume ad. He also has a job for the Paris Fashion Week. Kurt is making friends and exploring the city.” “I wish I was doing that with him.” “All in good time, Blaine. Don’t lose hope. Kurt is so young. You have to give him some breathing space to experience Paris on his own. But make sure he knows that he’s still very much in your thoughts and heart.” “I’m not sure how to do that, Dad. Kurt is living on another continent.” “Tweet him, send him something that has a special meaning for the two of you. You’re a smart man, Blaine. You’ll think of something. Andersons are like the Canadian Mounties – we always get our man. Ha! I never thought I would be using that expression to describe one of our love lives.” Blaine rolls his eyes as he chuckles. That sounded a bit awkward, but he knows that his father means well. ***** Blaine has been feeling out of sorts all day. It’s been exactly one year since Isabelle brought one Kurt Hummel to his office as Vogue’s ‘fresh face’. At the time, Blaine had never suspected that his life would be both shaken and stirred. However, life hasn’t been the same since that fateful day. Until September, Blaine has spent most his free time with Kurt and has fallen deeply and irrevocably in love. Blaine has mixed feelings about the fateful night of the diva-off. He was so happy when Kurt finally kissed him. Sure, things went a little too far, but he was so lost in his emotions that there was no way he could pull back. When they left the theater, Blaine felt optimistic about his and Kurt’s future together. Then the ‘Klainegate’ video hit the Internet the next day, and nothing has been the same since. In hindsight, Blaine thinks that he should have gone after Kurt as soon as he left Vogue – when he was at Elle and still in New York City. However, at the time, Blaine felt hurt that Kurt had cut him off so completely by accepting the Elle job, moving and changing phone numbers. When Blaine finally decided to seek out Kurt in Ohio and see if things could be mended, he discovered that Kurt had moved to Paris. So exactly one year later, Blaine is just where he was this time last year. Alone. Blaine reflects on the telephone conversation he had with his dad a few days ago. As much as he wants to book a ticket on the next flight to Paris, his dad is right. Kurt is young and should experience Paris on his own for a while. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t let Kurt know that he’s thinking of him… missing him… wanting him. Blaine just needs to find subtle ways of getting that message across. Thinking that there’s no time like the present, Blaine tweets A year ago today, @KurtHummel walked into my office and life hasn’t been the same since. #InstantConnection, #FriendsForever Connor invited him out to the Comedy Cellar to see Ben Bailey do his standup show, but Blaine declined the invitation, knowing he would be poor company tonight. No-one wants to be with someone feeling blue in a place that’s supposed to make you happy. He had promised Amy he wouldn’t stay home by himself tonight – she emphasized that it wasn’t productive to drown in his sorrow. Blaine knows of only one place where he wouldn’t feel out of place this Saturday night, so he gets ready for a night out. ***** Blaine enters the Treble Club Jazz Club and takes a seat at the far end of the bar. It’s the perfect place to sit on such a busy night, hidden in the corner, but still able to see the stage. “Hey, Blaine. What will you have tonight?” the bartender asks, placing a coaster on the bar in front of him. “Not sure. I’m not in a bourbon and soda mood. Any suggestions?” The bartender nods and spends a minute or two mixing a cocktail. When he slides the tall glass towards Blaine, he merely says, “The Never-Ending Story.” Blaine sees a shimmer in the drink and gives the bartender a quizzical look. “It’s basically a Long Island Iced Tea but with Unicorn Tears gin instead of… well, gin. Blaine slowly nods, because whoever knew there would be a gin liqueur called Unicorn Tears. However, his attention is soon on Marley Rose, who steps onto the stage. She sings a long set - a mixture of soulful slow love songs and more upbeat country blues ones. Once the set is over and the encore performance has been sung, Marley Rose slowly makes her way over to the corner of the bar. “Blaine, what are the chances of you coming here three Saturday nights in a row? You’d think that you didn’t have half of New York’s eligible bachelors knocking at your door.” ‘New York Fashion Week is starting soon and so I’ll be out every night. Today’s a special day, and I didn’t want to be with anybody. Besides, I like it here - I like listening to you sing.” Marley Rose smiles at Blaine and takes a sip from her drink. Blaine is relieved that she gets it – she knows that he’s thinking about Kurt but doesn’t want to talk about him. “How’s the song-writing coming along? I was so excited when you told me before Christmas that you were playing the piano and composing again.” Blaine bows his head and places his two palms on his forehead. “I’m enjoying playing the piano, but the song-writing is another matter altogether. I actually composed a song called ‘I'm Never Saying Goodbye to You’. It is so melancholy that I had even considered submitting it to Adele. Song-writing is unleashing emotions that feel too personal and raw. I’ve got to figure a way out of this funk.” Marley Rose squeezes his shoulder and gives him an encouraging smile. “Maybe we can both do each other a favor. I’ve written the lyrics to a song called ‘All or Nothing’. I’m thinking that it needs upbeat music to accompany it, but I can’t figure out for the life of me a single musical note. Perhaps you could help me?” “Why not? E-mail me the lyrics and I’ll see what I can do.” ***** Blaine wakes up early Sunday morning, thankful that he had only one ‘Never-Ending Story’ drink last night. After a run in Central Park and a shower, he opens his e-mail and notices a new message from Marley Rose. True to her promise, she has sent him the lyrics to her new song. Blaine pours over the lyrics as he eats his breakfast. Then, with a newfound energy, he sits down at the piano. After doing his usual warmup exercises, he starts to compose the music. I can't stay here I am not the girl Who runs and hides Afraid of what could be And I will go there I need time, but know That things are always closer Than they seem Now I'll do more than dream yeah! The lyrics resonate with him, and he can’t help but wonder if the full story with Kurt has been told, or if there’s a new chapter waiting in the future. He hums out possible music to go with the rest of the song. Once he has an idea of where the composition is going, he switches on the mic and starts recording.

That it's All or nothing All or nothing Cause this is my life I'm not gonna live it twice There's no in-between Take it too extreme Blaine spends the rest of the day making minor adjustments and re-recording. When he’s satisfied with the end result, he sends Marley a text. Got my muse back and composed the music for the song. Want to meet tomorrow night to hear it? B 

Gathering all his courage, Blaine attaches the audio file to an e-mail for Wes with the following message: I’ve been working on my music again. Marley Rose wrote the lyrics and I’ve composed the music. It’s something that I want Kurt to hear. Could you please forward this to him? Thanks – B. ***** “Prêt sur le plateau,” the photographer calls out when the lighting is ready. “Ready on set,” Louis, his Parisian agent, whispers to Kurt. “Don’t worry, there are only a dozen or so things that you’ll need to learn in French. You’ll pick those up quickly today.” Louis and Kurt step out onto the rooftop of a skyscraper, with the cityscape of Paris in the background. Kurt is freezing, as the sun is weak on this winter’s day, but he’s thankful that the wind is blowing only softly. Kurt is wearing a charcoal-gray suit with a simple white shirt. Instead of a tie, the first three buttons are undone, exposing his neck and his upper chest. Fortunately, it’s slightly warmer with the photography lights beaming at him. Kurt is surprised at the traditional poses he’s asked to take – standing near the guard rail, adjusting his shirt cuffs, lifting up the jacket lapels, and stuff like that. It all seems so easy after posing for Elle on the dance pole. “I want the faraway look. Like you are thinking about a beautiful femme, or homme. And face the city.” Kurt turns and leans his upper half on the guard rail, taking in the mix of historic and modern buildings of Paris. There is only one person to think of to give him ‘the faraway look’ – Blaine. He calculates the time in New York City and wonders if Blaine is awake yet. Is he alone in his penthouse or waking up with the new man in his life? Kurt has seen photos on Instagram and Twitter of Blaine out and about with a tall and good-looking man. They weren’t taken at high-profile events, but rather at coffee shops, the theater and local restaurants. Blaine looks comfortable around this new man, but something’s missing. There’s no hand-holding or shared smiles – nothing to indicate they are lovers… yet. Kurt had zoomed one of the photos and stared at Blaine’s eyes, for they are always so expressive. Blaine’s eyes look warm, but they lack the sparkle – the way they used to sparkle when Kurt and Blaine were together. “Cut. We’ll take a 30-minute break to warm up. The look was parfait, Kurt.” Kurt dashes inside and goes down one flight of stairs, where the model prep area has been set up. Louis immediately comes over and throws a wool blanket around his shoulders. “Kurt, don’t look sad. You were magnificent on set. The Dior manager is very pleased with the shoot,” Louis says. “I’m not sad about the photo shoot. I was thinking about someone towards the end of the session, and I miss him.” “The world is a small place. Why don’t you invite him to Paris to visit you? After this photo shoot, you have two weeks before you’re needed for the next job. Paris can be very romantic, even in the winter.” “I wish that it was that easy, Louis. But the man that I miss has found another.” “Impossible! There is no such thing as finding another after you.” “That’s not what the photos on Instagram and Twitter say.” Louis goes off to get Kurt a hot drink from the canteen. Kurt desperately wishes that Blaine was here in Paris - but Blaine isn’t, and no amount of wishing is going to change that. Kurt finds his phone and opens Twitter. He’s surprised when he reads the tweet from Blaine, reminding him that they met exactly a year ago. Has it really been that long? Blaine’s message has been retweeted thousands of times, with #klaine tagged. Kurt tosses his phone aside when he reads the retweet, Why aren’t my babies together? Before reading the tweet, Kurt thought that Blaine had moved on with his life, with brand-new projects and a brand-new man. But maybe the tweet means that Blaine misses him? He picks up his phone and retweets Blaine’s message, And what an amazing year it’s been. #InstantConnection, #BucketLists, #GoodTimes, #FriendsForever ***** “How did the photo shoot go, Kurt?” “It went really well, Dad, although it was shot outside and it’s cold here. The ad is going to hit the March issue of the magazines.” “Let me know which ones so I can go out and buy ‘em.” “The ad will definitely be in the American issues of Vogue and Elle.” “Then I’ll buy Vogue next month.” Kurt laughs when he notices his dad’s earnest expression, obvious even through Skype. “You’re probably Blaine’s number one fan.” “Of course I am. I really respect what he’s doing in Westerville with that Monarch House project. We had a long chat about it, and I think I might be able to convince him to open the next one in Lima.” “Wait a minute, when did you have a long chat with Blaine?” Kurt can see his dad take off his cap and rub his head nervously. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.” Kurt wraps his arms around his waist and arches one eyebrow. “About what, Dad?” “After I dropped you off at the airport last month, Blaine came to the house looking for you. When I said that you were on your way to Paris, he looked as if his world was ending. Blaine was a mess. A snow storm started and I couldn’t send him back to Westerville in that state, so he spent the night.” Kurt shakes his head. He wishes that his dad had told him about this earlier. “And you just talked about his Monarch House project?” “No, of course not. It was all I could do to convince him not to jump on the first plane to Paris.” “Blaine wanted to come to Paris?” “Of course he did. Blaine is crazy about you. However, I convinced him that you need this time to figure out things for yourself.” Kurt rushes through the rest of the conversation because he wants some time on his own to think about this. When he gets off Skype with his dad, he heads down a floor and runs himself a hot bath. Once he’s soaking in a tub filled with his favorite lavender-scented bath oil, he thinks about what his dad told him. Kurt wonders what his reaction would have been if his dad had told him that Blaine came over when he had first arrived in Paris. He probably would have taken the first plane back. But his dad was right… He does need this time to experience new things and to gain a perspective on his relationship with Blaine. Kurt steps out of the tub and gets into his nightwear. After doing the long version of his nightly moisturizing routine, he heads back upstairs and crawls under the warm down duvet on his bed. Not everything his dad said made sense though. If Blaine is so gutted about Kurt moving to Paris, why is he dating another man? Why is it only now that Blaine is tweeting him? Kurt knows that Blaine is sentimental, so he must still like Kurt to remember the day they first met. But does Blaine like him just as a friend or could there be more between them? ***** “Café au lait et un petit pain au chocolat, s'il vous plaît (A coffee with milk and a chocolate-filled bun, please),” Kurt requests, sitting at the famous Café de Flore on Paris’ Left Bank. Kurt has switched his usual grande non-fat mocha order to something he feels sounds more adult. Besides, the flaky croissant pastry with fine dark chocolate chunks on the inside satisfies his sweet tooth. “Mon chouchou, I’m sorry I’m late. I was painting François and lost track of time,” Antoine apologizes as he slides into the seat across from Kurt. He snaps his fingers to grab the attention of the garçon and orders a double expresso. “Of course, I would prefer to paint a portrait of you,” Antoine adds with a wink. Kurt gives Antoine a tight-lipped smile. This isn’t the first-time Antoine has asked him to pose for one of his paintings. However, Kurt feels uncomfortable posing in the nude. Although Antoine promises he can cover up his ‘bits’, it doesn’t feel right that the first man to see him naked would be like this. Antoine hints at it, but never pushes, and Kurt is grateful for that. Kurt has met up with Antoine a dozen times since they properly met at the afternoon tea with Emmeline. They’ve played the tourist on the Left Bank and visited the Pantheon, the Sorbonne University and The Invalids. They’ve strolled through the Jardin des Plantes (“we must return in the spring when the first flowers blossom”). They’ve also explored the little shops and boutiques in hidden streets that Antoine knows so well. They have gone to clubs and bars and met up with Antoine’s friends. Wherever they go, Kurt notices that Antoine always attracts a crowd. His easy-going nature, good looks, and natural charm draw everyone to him like a magnet, women and men alike. Antoine has always been a perfect gentleman towards Kurt and makes sure that he’s included in the conversations, introducing him to his friends, who are artists, writers, musicians, chefs, and professional students. Kurt always enjoys himself with Antoine’s friends and is curious about their lifestyle. They seem to live in the moment, without thinking about the future. This isn’t a bit like he was raised in Lima, Ohio – where commitment and family are what really matter. “Mon chouchou, I have an idée magnifique (magnificent idea) for next Saturday if the weather is beautiful. Everyone must experience the Château de Versailles.” “I’d love to visit the palace where Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were married. It’s on my bucket list of places to visit in Paris.” Kurt bites his lip and wishes he’d never mentioned his bucket list – that’s something special between Blaine and himself. However, remembering the photos of Blaine with the new man in his life, Kurt is determined to get past Blaine and his feelings towards him. ***** Kurt is glad that he downloaded the audio guide app of the Versailles Palace the previous night. Kurt and Antoine have toured all the impressive areas inside the palace - the King’s Apartments, the Hall of Mirrors, the Queen’s Apartments, and the Chapel, but also lesser known areas such as the Gallery of Battles, and the apartments of Louis XV’s daughters. “This palace is so ornate and over the top. I can’t believe the royal family could live like this for a hundred years.” “Now you know why the French Revolution happened. Come with me, mon chouchou. We now need to explore les jardins (the gardens). If Kurt thought the palace itself was over the top and impressive, nothing has prepared him for the gardens. There are meticulous manicured lawns with paved paths creating intricate designs. The flower beds are mainly empty on this winter’s weekend, but the shrubs provide sufficient greenery. There are statues in small pools of water dotted throughout the gardens. “And I thought the palace was the main attraction. These gardens are something else altogether,” Kurt observes. “We’ve only seen a small portion of the gardens. There are almost 2,000 acres at the Château de Versailles. We’ve visited the most famous parts.” Antoine checks his watch and then adds, “Come with me. Let’s grab some lunch.” They stop in a small café, get ham and cheese baguettes and mineral water to go, and return to the gardens. They sit on a wrought iron bench, which is cold. However, Antoine soon has Kurt laughing with jokes and trivia about Marie Antoinette. “I had absolutely no idea that the children’s song ‘Jack and Jill’ was about Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette getting beheaded. It certainly puts a different slant to ‘and Jill came tumbling after’.” Suddenly, classical music is heard from speakers throughout the gardens and the swishing sound of water starts. Kurt looks up and sees the fountains come to life with spouting water. “You are in luck, mon chouchou. Usually the fountains aren’t switched on until spring.” Kurt puts the remainder of his baguette into his messenger bag and rushes from fountain to fountain to see the spectacular water shows. He makes sure to see the Latone, Saturn, Apollo and Neptune fountains. Antoine remains on the bench and laughs at Kurt’s enthusiasm as he takes photo after photo. The train journey back to Paris takes just over an hour and they arrive at the Left Bank in the late afternoon. “The day is still young. Come to my studio, Kurt. I’ll cook dinner and show you my artwork.” Kurt agrees and they wander back to Antoine’s place. After climbing the stairs up to the fourth floor, Antoine quickly opens the door and leads Kurt in. It is a large studio apartment. Half the space is taken by canvases, easels, and paints. The wooden floors are old and unrestored, with oil paint splatters making interesting patterns. There’s an old upholstered couch and a large king-sized bed, which are surrounded by studio lights – Kurt guesses this is also used for the models. There is a small kitchenette along one side and a door leading to the bathroom. “It’s modest, but it works for me. When I get inspired, I can paint right away. I’m planning to make a cassoulet for dinner. Have you eaten this before? “No, what is it?” “I think you Americans would say pork and beans, but it’s a lot more than this. It takes a while to cook, so let me get the casserole prepared and then we can relax.” Kurt helps Antoine with the prep work by chopping onions, carrots, tomatoes, and garlic. Antoine combines this with cubes of pork, ham, beans, and fresh herbs into a cast iron casserole dish and slides it into the oven. He then pours Campari and mineral water in two glasses to create an aperitif. “Santé, mon chouchou,” Antoine toasts as he clinks their glasses together. Antoine takes Kurt by the hand and leads him to the coach. Antoine then heads to the studio’s corner, where there are at least a dozen oil paintings leaning on the wall in the corner. One by one, he takes a painting and places it on the easel for Kurt to view. The first ones are landscapes of the French countryside – mainly fields of poppies and wheat. The next few paintings are classic stills of fruit and flowers. The last ones are portraits of young men in the nude. “You certainly cover the full range of subjects for your art. Which do you enjoy painting the most?” Kurt asks. “The landscapes are the best sellers and help pay the rent. I paint the others when I feel inspired, and currently I enjoy painting the portraits. I do charcoal sketches at first and then the oil painting later.” Kurt can see that Antoine is passionate about his art, as he rants on about the meaning of each painting, with hands waving everywhere and the same look in his eyes as Rachel gets when talking about Broadway. Antoine puts ‘Lucie’ by Pascal Obispo on the sound system and soon they are discussing other things they plan to do in Paris together. The meal starts with a terrine de campagne (country terrine or pate), served with crusty baguette and red wine. Kurt only nibbles at it because he can smell the rich cassoulet cooking in the oven. The main course is soon served with a simple side salad. “I can see why this is a popular dinner in France. The tastes go together so well and it’s hearty for a cold winter’s night.” “I’m glad you like it, mon chouchou. This recipe is from mami Emmeline. Apparently, she got the recipe from the executive chef at the La Fontaine de Mars restaurant decades ago. God knows how she pried it out of Jean-Guy Loustau.” After the dinner dishes have been cleared, Antoine places an artesian cheese platter and baguette on the coffee table and they relax on the couch. “I’m afraid that I can’t eat too much cheese if I want to be able to get into the suits that I model. I already broke my diet with the ham and cheese baguette at lunchtime.” Kurt’s cheeks flush when he sees Antoine’s glance move from his head to his toes. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. You are parfait (perfect) in my eyes. I’ll put this away, but I insist you join me for a digestif. Would you prefer cognac, armagnac or calvados?” Kurt has never tasted any liquors before, so he asks for the only one he recognizes. “Cognac, s'il te plaît.” After the drinks have been poured, Kurt takes a sip and finds he can’t stand the taste of cognac. He thinks about how he could get rid of the drink without Antoine noticing. He doesn’t want to appear unsophisticated, but there’s no way he’s finishing this drink. “So tell me about your life in New York City?” Antoine asks. Kurt talks about working at the Spotlight Diner and auditioning for roles in the theater without ever getting call-backs. He then goes on to relate the story of his Vogue internship interview and how he became a model that very same day. “What an incredible story, Kurt. What do you hope for in the future?” “I’m not entirely sure. I want to continue modeling until I get bored with it or people stop paying me lots of money. I’m thinking of studying musical theater and taking another stab at Broadway. I’m also thinking about studying fashion and get into the designing end of things. But for now, I’m enjoying Paris.” “Exactement, mon chouchou. You are young and don’t need to weigh yourself down with plans. This is the time you should live for the moment.” “What do you hope for in the future, Antoine?” “I hope that I continue to be inspired to paint, and people are inspired to buy my artwork. I want a place to live, good friends, and the freedom to do what I want. Une vie simple (a simple life).” When Antoine puts it that way, a life free of commitments and society’s pressures sounds ideal. However, Kurt does want to put down roots eventually, and get married and have kids. “There is one more thing I hope for, and as luck has it, you are here tonight.” Antoine slowly leans towards Kurt and presses their lips together. Kurt can feel the sensation of Antoine’s soft warm lips and it feels nice and comfortable. Kurt is pleased that he’s wanted by such an attractive and nice guy. But there aren’t any fireworks or butterflies in his stomach like he felt with his first real kiss. Kurt doesn’t think anything can compare to kissing Blaine. However, for now, it’s a welcome feeling. “Stay the night, mon chouchou,” Antoine whispers. Kurt jerks away quickly as if he has been burnt by fire. “I’m not ready for that… for things.” “Kurt, look at me. I’m not expecting anything. Okay, maybe more of the kissing. We can take this at any speed that you’re comfortable with. I’m very interested in you and enjoy your company. To see Paris through Kurt Hummel’s eyes is quite magical. So please, spend the night. I can always sleep on the couch if you want.” Kurt likes Antoine. He’s fun to be with, and this would take their relationship - can he call it that? – one step further. Kurt knows Antoine well enough to know he’s not a predator and will honor his word. But something holds him back. He can’t get Blaine out of his mind, and isn’t ready to take things further with Antoine yet. Kurt slowly shakes his head. “I think I better call it a night.” Author’s notes Song Marley Rose writes the lyrics and Blaine composes – “All or Nothing” performed by the Glee cast. Next up: Kurt models at the Paris Fashion Week opens and the Westerville Monarch House opens. It will be posted on Saturday.

[takaraphoenix]

Shadowhunters Recap: Season 3

[all Shadowhunters Recaps here] @nightingalestakeflight​

Okay, here we go. Final season.

Magnus is no longer High Warlock, having been demoted after siding with the Seelie Queen during the war. He’s also an alcoholic now. Just, mentioning it here instead of repeating all the time how his drinking increases; he drinks more and more and more, becomes snarkier and isolates himself more this season, plagued with PTSD from the torture he had to endure while in Valentine’s body.

Meanwhile, a serial killer has started killing people. An ominous, dark figure whose face we do not see. It’s Jace. Because when they didn’t bother tracking down Jonathan’s body, he had summoned mommy dearest with his last strength and now Lilith is on Earth, seeking revenge on the one who had killed her baby boy. Conveniently, for her, Jace having died and coming back left him mentally weak and allows her to sneak in and manipulate him, possess him. Making him kill people without Jace noticing. All those kills aren’t just random; they serve as sacrifices so she can bring Jonathan back to life.

The new High Warlock replacing Magnus has a bit of a cock-measuring contest with Magnus going on. Bit funny, bit annoying. Same can be said about him.

(Lorenzo Rey, funny but annoying to equal parts.)

Relationship update: Jace and Clary are now officially dating, Simon is now dating Maia, Isabelle has a very short-lived thing with a mundie named Charlie, Magnus and Alec are back at it as of the last season’s finale and they are now rekindling things with Maryse (remember: mommy dearest made a 180° after ditching her cheating husband. It cured her homophobia and racism!).

Raphael’s sister dies. She was old, so no funny business there. Just... a very heartbreaking moment for Raphael, in which he finds (platonic) comfort from Isabelle, showing the two rekindled after the whole addiction-to-each-other.

His sister’s death triggers an urge in Raphael. He missed so much with her, including her funeral because it happens during the day. He becomes obsessed with curing his vampirism. For that, he starts experimenting on this girl, Heidi, because she had been accidentally sired by Simon (remember how Simon was accused of murder for a hot second? She was the murdered party! But she’s not dead. Just a vampire now). After escaping from Raphael, Heidi naturally wants revenge. Most people don’t take well to being locked up and tortured.

Jace all the while starts to think he’s losing his mind. He has visions of Jonathan, can’t sleep, has these blackouts that he can’t explain. He talks to Luke, who had been friends with Jace’s biological parents. Turns out his biological mother had some serious mental issues and was suicidal too; naturally, the show doesn’t name what exactly she had, it’s just vaguely suicidal problems, as TV shows like doing. Natural conclusion that he comes to is that he has the same mental issues (which, I do consider canon anyway; boy’s been suicidal for two seasons now).

He’s ready to seek professional help... but Clary stops him from doing so, claiming she can find a “better” solution. That solution is to summon the angel that Clary and Jace had freed from Valentine’s imprisonment - promptly getting him killed by Lilith without getting actual answers.

Simon all the while has his own issues. He has a suspicious roommate named Kyle and when him and Simon investigate the guy, they find out that he is actually Kyle Jordan, Maia’s ex who turned her, and he was sent by the werewolf council to keep an eye on Simon, because aside from being a Daylighter and thus walking in the daylight, Simon now bears something called the Mark of Cain that makes him indestructible. Remember how last season finale, Simon made that deal to stay in the Seelie Realm? Yeah, the Seelie Queen used that to place this mark on Simon and then kind of let him go again.

Magnus does the so far dumbest thing he’s ever done by brewing an anti love potion; a potion that will make someone fall out of love and forget that love. Because Lilith gives him a fake name and a fake story that appeals to him. Magic this powerful that affects someone who has no say in this... should maybe, I don’t know, get screened first. Lilith needs the potion because supposedly Jace’s love for Clary prevents her from fully possessing him. She slips him the potion when they meet up in a bar.

Alec and Magnus have yet another argument, this time about Magnus’ immortality. Where Alec only now realizes that dating an immortal means... dating an immortal. And where Magnus mocks him for only realizing that now. Both have a point. They never address this issue again and also never propose any kind of solution or approach to go about this, at all.

Everyone finally learns that Jace died. Which had been kept a secret... uh... for plot-reasons, I guess. Not for logic reasons, for sure. Especially since everyone had seen Alec’s parabatai rune fade when Jace had died. But Jace is now fully possessed so Clary finally comes clean.

Jace, now fully possessed and for some reason being referred to as the Owl (it does not look like an Owl. I would provide a visual at this point, but quite frankly, that shit was nightmare fuel so I’ll spare you), goes and kills Imogen Herondale. Also known as Jace’s only family.

After that, Alec, Izzy and Clary manage to capture him, locking him up and bringing him to Magnus to fix him. Which is much harder than anticipated. He sends Isabelle and Alec inside Jace’s mind, where they realize Lilith has been mentally torturing Jace too by making him kill Clary over and over and over again. This season, basically, just piles trauma after trauma onto Jace. They manage to get him back, buuut then Lilith knocks out Magnus and kidnaps Jace.

Clary gets arrested for high treason, since she summoned the angel and used the holy wish for selfish reasons to bring Jace back to life, getting her sentenced to death. She, uh, gets out of this - let me stress this: this death sentence she got for reviving someone - by reviving Valentine, because the Clave has some questions for him still. Zombie Valentine does for a great distraction and Jace-as-the-Owl breaks in and kidnaps Clary.

Because Jace is not the only one Lilith is angry with.

Heidi the vampire girl holds Simon’s mundie family hostage to mess with Simon, revealing the truth to his mom, who did not take it well and unlike Scott McCall in Teen Wolf who just gave his mom a little time to get used to it and explaining it to her, Simon immediately concludes that he needs to fake his own death, erase her memories and instead make her believe that he’s dead, literally not even giving her a day to digest that her entire world was turned upside down.

Luke is abandoned by the pack. You might have forgotten, but he became alpha, right? He kind of forgot too. All he did as the alpha was use the pack to help Clary, losing a lot of lives in the war and not really... doing much for them. They got fed up with that and kicked him out.

Magnus feels guilty about Jace, since you know he made the potion that made it possible for Jace to be fully possessed in the first place, so he decides to go to Edom (that’s hell) to make a deal with his father, who agrees to help in exchange for Magnus’ magic and immortality. Good parenting all around. /s

However, Asmodeus thus breaks the possession and Jace gains full control of his body during the final show-down. At this point, however, Lilith already managed to raise Jonathan from the dead, using Clary as a means to tie Jonathan to Earth.

It is now also revealed why the Seelie Queen put the mark of Cain on Simon, because it has the power to banish Lilith, which Simon does in this finale. (Note: Simon tracked down the real actual Cain. Turns out that making Cain a vampire who could walk the Earth at day too had been Cain’s punishment for the whole brother-murder. We do not delve deeper into that, or the implications this has on faith and more specifically Simon’s faith because he’s Jewish.)

Jonathan kidnaps Clary, but after Simon used his mark to banish Lilith, there is so much destruction, they assume that she has been killed too.

(Jonathan’s real face, because resurrected, he doesn’t use Sebastian’s borrowed one anymore.)

Some time passes, because this was the mid-season finale, and Luke and Jace go out to search everywhere for Clary, believing her to still be alive. They find her in Paris and save her, but due to the rune tying her to Jonathan, she’s kind of compromised.

For completely inexplicable reasons, the show decides to make Luke and Maryse become a couple.

Heidi took over the clan - because Raphael has been banished for the experiments he did on her. And she is trying to stir some shit between wolves and vampires, killing nearly the entire pack - and leaving Luke framed for it. Maia kills Heidi in a very badass manner by injecting herself with holy water and then making Heidi feed on her, consequently killing her.

Aline Penhallow returns to the Institute! She doesn’t do much, sadly, but I guess it was the set up meant for more in the following season.

That alcoholism of Magnus’ keeps getting worse, because now he lost his magic too and feels useless without it. He tries borrowing magic from Lorenzo, but it does not become him, making him cough up blood.

Alec thinks that with the alcoholism and the PTSD, what Magnus really needs is marriage so he gets the family ring to propose to Magnus. Look, I’m not trying to be ship-salty here, but seriously. What Magnus needed was therapy and someone to call him out on the alcoholism and helping him get help. Marriage doesn’t fix real issues - but the writers don’t know that, because they suck so badly, they live in a pink-tinted world where love fixes all problems. As can be seen by mentally ill Jace, who has his load of PTSD from the previous two seasons already and has now just killed 40 people including his own grandma, but we will never bring his mental illness up again and he is a happy camper again now because Clary is back and they are in a relationship so all of his personal problems are magically fixed too.

(Note: Holy shit the saltiness in my notes about this season make the ocean taste sweet. The writers made a lot of very subpar decisions this season.)

Moving on. Simon goes undercover and finds out that Aldertree - yeah that bitch’s still around - has been experimenting on imprisoned Downworlders, “curing” them with something called Heavenly Fire. Raphael is now human again!

Clary has been going back and forth; trying to kill Jonathan, then helping him again, imprisoning Jonathan, then breaking him out again. The bond’s making her a bit wonky. So Jace goes undercover pretending that he will join them, which was just such a brilliant plan, truly, how could anyone ever doubt this would work. Clearly, it doesn’t, but he learns that Jonathan is trying to kill the Seelie Queen.

Alec breaks up with Magnus, after he summoned Asmodeus to try and help Magnus. He makes a deal with Asmodeus to break up with Magnus in exchange for Magnus’ magic being returned. Magnus will not question how his father returned to Earth and why he would give Magnus his magic back.

Magnus finally gets his act together and banishes Asmodeus to limbo.

Maia becomes the new alpha.

Jonathan tears reality apart, breaking a rift open between hell and the Shadowhunters’ home. Seeing as Alec truly has impeccable timing, he proposes now, just before Magnus sacrifices himself going through the rift to close it from the other side.

This is where the season ends and the show got cancelled. Thankfully, we got a two hour special at least tying up the loose ends.

While Alec is busy planning the wedding, Jonathan is still out there killing people. Luke uses that stuff Aldertree made to cure himself and become human again. Simon and Isabelle are getting together - sorry, forgot to mention, after two weeks of dating, Simon and Maia broke up again, I don’t think there was a reason aside from the writers remembering that Maia isn’t Simon’s endgame.

Isabelle goes to hell, because when her and Simon were investigating Aldertree, everything exploded - including the thing Aldertree was using to make his magic removal potion. It is now embedded in Isabelle’s skin and somehow makes her immune to hell.

The others follow her, because Clary is basically god now. After creating a resurrection rune, she is now creating a rune that ties Downworlder and Shadowhunter powers together, allows them to share. These are not normal rune-powers! Her special angel blood allows her to just break all known laws of magic and create new super powerful stuff. Like a god.

The Heavenly Fire embedded in Isabelle allows her to kill Lilith and also destroy hell. Don’t question it.

Clary gets a warning from a different angel, because the angels kind of don’t like that she’s down there playing god. No more creating new runes, or she will be punished. Should, quite frankly, be easy enough to do.

She does not do as she is told. Her brother has been out there literally wiping out entire Institutes (he also had sex with the Seelie Queen and then killed her). Clary is the only one able to get close enough to by now totally overpowered Jonathan and she... hugs him to death.

That’s not even a joke. She hugs him to death. She creates a new rune that gives her angel wings. And then she hugs him and summons her wings and uses them to hug him too and for some reason - something something demon blood something something angel blood, would be my best guess - that hug kills Jonathan.

She could have just stabbed him to death. She really liked stabbing things. But the writers needed her to break that one simple to follow rule so she had to create a new rune here, you see. Plot-reasons.

Magnus and Alec immediately get married. I feel like I need to remind you that three months ago, Alec was still in the closet and Shadowhunters were still deeply homophobic, but now we are celebrating Alec’s gay wedding inside the Institute, with all Shadowhunters present too. They truly did end homophobia with their love and man as a queer person I am so salty with those writers including homophobia as a big deal just to shrug it off and pretend “but you see, those two love each other. Love is beautiful! - oooh. We, the homophobes, now see that gay love is beautiful!”... Just don’t include homophobia at all then, please.

Clary starts losing her memories during the wedding and walks out. Outside, she loses them completely. This was the great punishment from the angel. Let me remind you, she is the freaking main character of this show. But instead of giving her the spotlight and happy ending that is going on over there *motions to wedding*, they are kicking her out of magic society and ending her alone.

Worry not, there is a time-skip though and it aged me a year too.

Luke, Clary’s father figure, is now living in Brazil, happy with Maryse and working for the very Clave that had turned its back on him when he got turned into a werewolf, but hey he’s a Shadowhunter now so they take him back and hey he takes them back to and it’s so much more important to have sex at the beach than to be close to his daughter who lost her memories. Sorry. Salty again.

Alec is somehow now the Inquisitor, the highest position the Clave has to offer, after only one year time. Even if you take the whole homophobia that would have definitely kept him from gaining this much power entirely out of the equation, it is still a ridiculous timeline to consider for a guy in his early twenties. But we see him be happy and successful in Idris, logic doesn’t matter.

Bat and Maia are now together and happy and successful, having taken over a restaurant.

Simon and Jace are now friends and even after a whole year, Jace is still hung up on Clary and apparently stalks her from a distance which Simon, her best and oldest friend, thinks is unhealthy. He’s right, but it also kind of sucks that Simon and Luke have seemingly moved on from Clary.

Clary is now an artist! But she is also miserable because she is all alone and doesn’t remember her life.

In the final shot, we see Jace stalking her art gallery showing, they lock eyes... and her memories come back to her. Making everyone in the audience question why exactly the writers thought it necessary to take them in the first place, because, again, Clary is the freaking main character of this show and goodness gracious did she deserve better than that ending. But hey! She got her memories back after a year of existential angst, so yay! /s

And that’s it, that’s the whole show. The end.

[helloanonymouswriter]

Undone || Malec

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/569888954-undone-malec-three AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520396/chapters/33638313

CHAPTER THREE

Everyone regrouped in the ops centre and Rafael made sure to listen out for details on how the evening had progressed. "What did you find?" the head of security asked.

"The box my mum used to keep Jonathon's things in." Clary replied.

"It was right where Izzy found Max." Jace explained.

"I know Max had his eyes on it." Alec confirmed. "He was so determined to prove himself."

"It's possible he found a way to use the box to track Jonathon." Jace continued and Rafael tuned out for a bit, turning his gaze to his exhausted brother.

"You should sleep for a bit, conserve your energy." Rafael prompted. Max looked like he was about to protest but sighed, knowing he wouldn't be of any help if he couldn't perform the spell. Rafael spotted the Shadowhunter that arranged their sleeping arrangements earlier. "Hey man." Rafael smiled apologetically.

"My brother's exhausted from fighting a hoard of shax demons today. Do you mind if he sleeps for a bit? Is there somewhere he can rest?" Rafael asked as nicely as possible. The Shadowhunter appeared indifferent about it.

"Sure, the spare rooms are down that hall then up the stairs. He can go in the one at the end." The man informed and Rafael nodded before turning to Max.

"Did you hear that?"

Max rolled his eyes. "We both know where the spare rooms are." He scoffed. Rafael shrugged and helped his brother up. "I can make it there myself, don't worry." Max assured. "Just stay updated on what's happening." Rafael agreed reluctantly and waved his brother away. He tuned back into the conversation.

"-without it. Alec, he could still be in the building." Jace cautioned. So they knew Jonathon was amongst them.

"We have to confirm he's still inside."

"He saw what the real Jonathon looks like, he will be glamoured as one of our own." Jace concluded and Rafael internally commended them on figuring it out as he turned to watch the perimeter for any sign of hellhounds.

"Hiding in plain sight." Clary added uneasily.

Alec breathed in and looked like he was forming a plan. "Okay ... okay Sebastian I want you and any other personnel on-" Rafael blocked out the rest of his father's words and his blood ran cold. Sebastian. That was Jonathon's alias. Rafael fixed the blond Shadowhunter with a gaze full of contempt. That man had caused so much pain and heartache in his family. He wished he could just end him there and then. He clenched his hands to stay in his seat and not throttle the person who attacked his uncle.

"-If Jonathon's still in the building, he's not getting out alive!" Alec assured right to Jonathon's face and Rafael would have been pleased if he didn't know that the bastard would, indeed, get out alive. Rafael glared as the blond half-nephilim, half-demon marched off to perform whatever devious deed was next on his list. Rafael hated having to be rational, but he really couldn't do anything that interfered with their timeline too vastly.

Just then Alec rushed past and whipped his phone out, finger pressing urgently on call. He groaned in frustration when the person didn't pick up. "Magnus please ... I need your help. I know things are complicated right now but ... I just ... I need you ..." Alec sighed heavily and stopped the voicemail. Rafael felt his heart clench - he hated seeing his parents sad. Although they had the occasional argument, they were too in love to ever continue for too long. Hearing the sorrow in young Alec's voice only made Rafael more aware of how it didn't start out so easy.

"Fuck this." Alec snapped suddenly and his son watched as he stormed out the institute to personally get his lover to help. Rafael sighed and dreaded the destination of the evening.

~

Max could only manage a couple hours sleep, his mind was too restless despite his body's protests. After a while he couldn't handle being alone in this foreign room in this foreign time without the comfort of his brother. He went in search for Rafael, hoping he was still in the ops centre. However as he rounded one of the corridors he stopped in his tracks and backed up. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he spotted his papa addressing his father and family about his uncle.

"Max's only hope for recovery now lies with brother Enoch." Magnus explained regretfully. Alec looked disappointed by the news and went straight to denial.

"There's gotta be something! Anything-"

"Brother Enoch." Maryse Lightwood said sternly and Max flinched a little at the sight. This was the Maryse Lightwood still struggling with her prejudices. Although she had come to love Max, he knew he made her sad at the same time - he was nothing like her son. He loved his grandparents but there was only so far their tolerance could go.

As the silent brother went to help little Max Alec became desperate. "No!" He exclaimed.

"Alec! I know you're scared..." Max tuned out of the conversation, shutting his eyes tight. He hated seeing the ones he loved so miserable and there was nothing he could do about it. After a moment he cast one last glance round the corner and saw his papa holding his dad's hand as a comfort. Max, despite the sadness it spawned, couldn't help but smile at the fact that Magnus would always care for his dad and would comfort him when Max couldn't. He let out a breath and headed to find Rafael.

Luckily he was still by the monitors, looking frustrated at the results. Max smiled at the sense of familiarity and security that Rafael gave him despite the painful reality around them, his throbbing parabatai rune and the lack of his family and friends. "Hey." Max spoke softly and Rafael jerked to attention. He smiled at Max's ruffled blue hair but it dropped a little when he noticed something amongst the birds nest.

"Maxie." He said in a low voice. "One of your mark's is showing. Might want to strengthen your glamour." Rafael whispered. Max frowned and reached up to find one of his horns showing. He flushed and concentrated his magic once again. Generally he wasn't ashamed of being a warlock and it was a lot more accepted at the institute in his time but he knew the reaction would be less than great in their current situation.

Just then Rafael's attention snapped to one individual who started talking to Clary. His eyes narrowed and he turned to Max. "That's Jonathon." He hissed and Max's eyes went wide. It was the blond head of security. "His alias is Sebastian. You were right, it did start with an 'S'" Rafael sighed and watched curiously as they interacted.

"Clary's tricking him into holding electrum." Max mumbled.

"Shit's about to go down." Rafael grimaced. The next couple hours were a blur as the sun began to rise. Both Lightwood-Bane brothers witnessed the whole Jonathon attack failure then deflated when they saw their papa leaving the institute with tears in his eyes not long after.

"Dad's probably a mess." Max whispered.

"They both are." Rafael agreed. "I heard the other Shadowhunters talking and uncle Max is okay." Max felt relieved despite knowing the outcome.

"That's good." He smiled. "So, any progress on the demons?"

"No ... they didn't even attempt a breach. What's stalling them?" Rafael asked angrily. "Look we should get some rest. I'm sure that if they attack we'll know about it but I need my strength if we're going to be along for this confusing ride." Rafael admitted, feeling his eyes getting heavy. Max agreed and helped his brother towards the spare rooms.

"Rafael! Max!" They heard Isabelle call and turned to see her jog towards them in those ridiculously high heels. Rafael smiled tiredly in reply. "I just wanted to say thank you for helping me find my brother, I don't know what I'd have done if we didn't find him sooner. So thank you." She smiled, eyes a little red.

"We didn't really do anything but we're glad he's ok. I hope you're able to get some rest." Max smiled.

"Oh I wish ... Alec's called us into a meeting about what happened with Jonathon. Where are you boys headed?" She asked, changing the subject.

"We were hoping to get a few hours sleep because we need to get back to tracking those demons as soon as possible. We've contacted our team and they're staying at a friends. We'll regroup when we can." Max explained, feeling responsible to take on the charade for once. Rafael needed rest and shouldn't have to think so hard.

"Ok you boys get some rest, I'm sorry you came in the middle of it all. If I get a chance to spare I'll help you with your demon problem. If not I'll get Alec to assign a Shadowhunter to help you on the case in the institute." Isabelle smiled and patted Max on his arm. She felt strangely fond of the blue-haired boy. He reminded her a lot of her Max and her protective streak was still raw. She watched with a smile as the brothers helped each other to their room and hoped that once everything was over they'd have the chance to really talk. They seemed nice and there was something comforting about them that Isabelle found herself wanting to explore further.

~

Rafael and Max had finally got the rest they needed and decided to spar. Like their father is provided much needed stress relief and their iratzes had already gotten rid of the previous day's kinks. They had a quarterstaff each and circled each other on the floor. Rafael watched his brother quickly assess the situation, looking for any directional decision's in the boy's eyes. He saw the decision made in hardened blue eyes and prepared as his muscles twitched and he struck fast and hard. Rune's already activated, Rafael dodged with ease and went to get his brother in the back as he flew fast. His reflexes were good though as he blocked the blow.

Max's arms strained a little as he pushed back against his brother's strength. Rafael was the strongest warrior in the institute, Alexandra coming in close second. Max wasn't sloppy by any means but he had to focus on the skill of physical battle as well as mental when his magic came into play. Despite the conflict, he managed to keep up and found his parabatai's skills comforting. He made a quick decision, ducking under his brother's staff and kicking him behind the knee.

Rafael's knee bent but he followed the motion, rolling forward and twisting so fast the he swiped his brother's feet out from under him. Max let out an 'oof!' as his back hit the ground. Rafael chuckled and stood, looming confidently over his brother. "Nice technique and reaction time but you let your guard down when you thought you'd gotten me. Don't stop there, keep attacking until you know I'm down for certain." Rafael instructed and held out a hand for his brother.

"Solid advice." A voice complimented from the side. The brothers jerked their heads to the training room entrance. Alec and Isabelle stood there, similar expressions and stances. Isabelle uncrossed her arms and grinned brightly at the boys as Alec gave a small impressed smile - only the lifting of the corner of his mouth really.

"Thank you, I train the others at the institute." Rafael smiled and made his way towards the head of the institute, Max following suite.

"Really? What family do you come from?" Alec asked curiously. Rafael froze for a second, brain running on fast forward as he struggled to grasp a lesser-known Shadowhunting family name.

"True...wright." Rafael blurted out. Max almost gave an exasperated sigh, he was pretty sure that was made up.

"I haven't heard of the Truewrights." Isabelle said thoughtfully.

"Our legacy isn't very vast and our name relatively new." Rafael tried to explain. Alec seemed to accept that as he looked ready to change the conversation. "Isabelle here said you helped out in the ops centre yesterday when things got crazy during lock-down." He started and Rafael gave a nod.

"He got the operating systems back up in record time once Sebas- I mean Jonathon disabled them. Thanks to that we were able to save and find some institute footage regarding the elite guards. The quick back up also alerted the other Shadowhunters earlier about the crisis." Isabelle explained with an impressed smirk. Rafael felt himself flush a little and just knew his brother was giving him a smug look.

"Impressive." Alec agreed.

"U-um, thank you sir." Rafael couldn't help but get flustered. It's not like he didn't compliments from the older version of his father, but he thought it particularly difficult to impress the young and stubborn version of Alec Lightwood-Bane. No doubt he had other pressing matters that may distract from small feats like helping out with the security system. Isabelle seemed insistent that he get recognition though. Both brothers could tell they'd gained her trust and she wanted to help them.

"How's your field-work?" Alec addressed the younger brother.

"Ready and awaiting orders sir." Max replied automatically, both brothers had gotten past the shock of their situation enough to function as usual. Max was a good warrior and completed orders with vigour. He didn't want to fall behind his brother. Alec looked pleased with the response and turned to Isabelle who Rafael noticed was wearing her gear.

"Then you can suit up and accompany my sister on mission. Rafael, I appear to be lacking a head of security. What would you say to a part time position? I assure you we'll help with your demon problem as soon as possible. We'll get some other Shadowhunters scouting for any unusual demon activity."

Max and Rafael's pulses sped up, both honoured. Rafael was acting-head back home and head of security was a position of honour and he felt overwhelmed that he displayed enough skill and competency to not only gain their trust so quickly but be offered a sought after position in a prestigious institute. "I'd be honoured s-sir." Rafael couldn't help stutter. Alec gave a nod.

"I trust my sister's judgement and you've both proven to not be involved in any of the chaos that ensued yesterday. We'd appreciate any assistance you can offer." Alec replied justly before turning to Rafael. "Shall we?" he pressed and Rafael stood to attention.

He turned to his brother. "Good luck Maxie." He gave a reassuring smile at his brother's anxious gaze. He knew Max didn't like being separated but being on mission would put him in his element - he should be alright.

"You too Rafa." Max turned his attention to Isabelle as Alec and Rafael left to sort out the business of the day.

"Well you're all warmed up, grab your blades and let's go." Isabelle grinned brightly and Max couldn't help but return her enthusiasm. He loved his aunt Izzy.

As Rafael and Alec walked to his office in comfortable silence, Alec felt the need to clarify something that's been bothering him. "Look." He started firmly as Rafael fell into step with him. "My head of security just turned out to be a psychopathic murderer in league with Valentine and I usually wouldn't be so ready to accept another outsider for the position. I didn't have a good gut feeling about Sebastian but he saved my sister's life so I ignored it. I have a good gut feeling about you so you better not betray this offer of trust do you hear me?" Alec warned.

Rafael could see the exhaustion and sadness in his father's eyes and he wished he could reach out to comfort him but knew that wasn't possible. All he could do right now is try and ease his mind about Rafael's loyalty. "Of course sir. I welcome punishment if I don't fit up to your standards."

Alec raised an eyebrow but kept quiet. Once they reached the office, they went straight to business.

PREVIOUS  NEXT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~HelloAnonymousWriter~

[realitycrazy2017-blog]

Why Maximum Bloggers See Their Blogs As a Commercial enterprise

New Post has been published on https://realitycrazy.com/why-maximum-bloggers-by-no-means-see-their-blogs-as-a-commercial-enterprise/

Why Maximum Bloggers See Their Blogs As a Commercial enterprise

Two bloggers, Martins and Smith were taking walks on the road and the following dialogue ensued:

Martins: Smith, how do you recall blogging?

Smith: Nicely, I assume running a blog is a huge Commercial enterprise

Martins: running a blog, a large Business? How?

Smith: Because it is run like another Enterprise

Martins: Do not you observed different companies are exceptional from blogging?

Smith: How do you mean?

Martins: other organizations are operated through real businessmen even as running a blog is operated by bloggers

Smith: Oh! I see! However what makes a Business?

Martins: agencies contain funding and that they generate income too

Smith: Truely?

Martins: Yes!

Smith: Don’t you invest time, cash and intellectuality into blogging?

Martins: Yes, we do

Smith: Do not blogs generate earning from AdSense, commercial, affiliate income, subsidized posts and hyperlinks, flipping, membership, and many others?

Martins: They do

Smith: Then how are blogs extraordinary from different businesses?

Martins: Hmmmmmmm! I Never considered these questions earlier than. I notion simplest those corporations with a tag are certified to be referred to as an Enterprise.

Smith: Anything that includes investment of any type and then yields income is a Business

Martins: Oh, I see! Thank you for the rationalization. I will start taking my blog as an Enterprise from now henceforth.

Are you continue to in doubt?

Do you still surprise if your blog is an Enterprise? Did you start your weblog as a past time? Did you construct your weblog Because you just wanted to share your mind with the arena? A whole lot of humans started for one purpose or the opposite – percentage mind, replace non-public album, promote Commercial enterprise brand, sell products, resolve humans’ issues, provide tutorials, and so forth. So everybody simply commenced with a dream, and everyone’s dream can be extraordinary from the subsequent man or woman’s.

But, a number of those dreams get modified as time goes by. New ideas crop up and get incorporated into the dreams. People who commenced with the motive of sharing their mind, updating their albums, supplying tutorials or solving problems begin to see why they must add a bit way of earning profits so as to preserve retaining their blogs or cope with different personal desires.

What makes blogging an Enterprise?

the subsequent characteristics make blogging a Commercial enterprise, and in case your blog has any of them, then you ought to bear in mind it for what it is – Commercial enterprise:

Generates Income: organizations generally generate earning for his or her proprietors. Earnings should come from selling products for your site (income), income from commercials, membership expenses, consultancy, and many others. So if your weblog receives money from any of these channels, your weblog is a Business.

It is a funding: Enterprise includes economic investment if you want to get make income or interest. Wikipedia defines funding this way, investment is putting cash into an asset with the expectation of capital appreciation, dividends, and/or hobby incomes

In other words, your weblog is an investment Due to the fact you’re procuring web hosting, website design/development, templates, plugins, unique scripts, webmaster services, and many others, with the motive to make some profits either in the immediate or in destiny. Other than investing cash, you also are making an investment some time on a totally extreme note. Wish you trust me in this?

Employment generation: Employment generated by blogs is a Two-fold aspect. The blog owner is gainfully hired, and secondly, he employs writers or preservation engineers to preserve matters transferring smoothly on the weblog. In an effort to create employment, you are both a businessman or government.

Retirement plan: An awesome Business helps to relaxed the future of the owner. Properly corporations are belongings for the proprietors to lean on during their pension years. blogging additionally provides that protection if it is Nicely dealt with and given the necessary interest it calls for.

Similarities between blogging and other organizations

With regards to Business, there are some distinguishable varieties of groups that effectively come to thoughts, and they consist of the following:

1. Sole proprietorship: This is the kind of Enterprise this is owned and managed by one character. Selections making is accomplished on my own, and the loss of life of the proprietor can also imply the death of the Enterprise. Maximum blogs are just like the sole proprietorship sort of Commercial enterprise in that the blogger runs his weblog by myself. He’s taking Selections alone, expands slowly and he is a jack of all alternate.

2. Partnership: Partnership Enterprise includes Two or greater folks coming collectively to do Commercial enterprise. whilst traditional groups can operate on a partnership stage, running a blog can also be a partnership funding. An excellent example of partnership blog is the LeapZone Techniques wherein Isabelle Mercier Turcotte and Margarita Romano was running collectively when you consider that 1996. Of course, they each make investments their money and also proportion earnings and losses together.

other types of Enterprise exist But we’re okay with simply these Two. At least they’ve helped us to make our similarities. Now that we’ve seen the different styles of companies, that takes us to the following factor.

Why then do blogging companies fail?

before now, a number of us were now not seeing running a blog as a Business. But now that we recognize, it is good to recognize why Lots of blogging companies fail. Don’t you know a few blogs fail? Properly, they do, Truely! The nagging question that desires a pressing answer is why do running a blog corporations fail?

1. Failure to make investments: One of the matters I pointed out in advance regarding Commercial enterprise is that Business calls for funding (both finance, time, intellectuality, and many others). Unluckily, A whole lot of bloggers who are hoping to make money with their blogs are not investing real money in raising the usual in their blogs to be able to make them marketable. Counting on freebies to run your blog in all elements would at first-class make your blog a dumping floor for substandard substances.

2. Lack of attention: Failing to attention on one’s dream or niche is One of the greatest motives why A variety of blogger sites fail to make it to their agencies. It has occurred to me within the beyond. When I started out my weblog in 2009, it changed into pulling site visitors and developing by using the day. Suddenly I misplaced awareness and started to pursue other desires. That weblog eventually paid the charge of my lack of awareness.

3. not pushed through ambition: If you are not ambitious enough as a blogger, it might be difficult as a way to achieve your running a blog Business.

“There is no good fortune in the Commercial enterprise. There’s the simplest drive, dedication, and greater power.” -Sophie Kinsella, Shopaholic Takes Manhattan

“To emerge as a hit, one ought to put themselves in the paths of giants!” – Lillian Cauldwell

The instant a few blogger sites gain a selected peak, they feel they’ve arrived and there’s no more want to improve or develop. The fervor to feature greater taste, innovation and new capabilities are really no longer there anymore.

4. Neglecting your clients: clients are the actual gem of every Enterprise and that they have to be treated with care and love. Sadly, Quite a few Enterprise proprietors do no longer recognize that their sustenance is ensured through the patronage of their customers. They virtually treat their clients with disdain.

“It isn’t always the agency who will pay the wages. Employers best take care of the cash. it’s far the client who pays the wages.” – Henry Ford

“If you do build an awesome revel in, clients inform every different approximately that. Word of mouth is very effective.” – Jeff Bezos, CEO Amazon.Com

“First-rate in a products or services isn’t always what you put into it. it’s far what the client or client gets out of it.” – Peter Drucker

My Phrase of recommendation

We stay in a world of excessive competition, and simplest People who are willing to head the extra mile to do what others are not inclined to do actually make it. As a blogger and a businessman, a good way to achieve your niche, you want to feature the subsequent in your portfolio:

Invest in your Business: Stop depending on freebies to run your Business. The reality there are freebies and still, there are paid variations of the equal product is enough to persuade you that freebies and paid merchandise are By no means the same. In as much as you’ll want a few freebies, you need also to invest actual greater to add some reducing side in your Commercial enterprise.

Stay targeted: In case you chase Two rats on the equal time, you will turn out to be getting none. As soon as you have got a dream, make certain to pursue it to a logical quit. Do not get unnecessarily distracted along the way. Distraction and lack of attention are dream killers, and so that they ought to be removed at all fee.

Be pushed by using ambition: Do not simply pass into any Commercial enterprise Due to the fact others are there. You ought to have the ambition and enough hunger to achieve your selected area of interest. If the ambition is strong enough, ok electricity might be launched to assist accomplish your dream.

deal with your customers like gold: Yes, you heard me Well! Your customers Do not deserve Whatever much less. They pay the bills, and in the event that they withdraw their patronage, you’re nowhere. One satisfied purchaser brings 20 more, But one disenchanted purchaser chases away 100 extra. Do you trust me?

Conclusion

Blogging is a Commercial enterprise and desires for blogger sites to be dealt with as such. Prevent treating it with levity Because your future may want to largely rely upon it. In case you need your running a blog Enterprise to prosper, you must be inclined to make investments money, time and intellectuality into it. Freebies on my own can In no way give you the exceptional on your Commercial enterprise. Remember that you Do not pay the bills, the clients do. So In no way deal with your customers shabbily Because they’re the cause, you’re nevertheless in a Commercial enterprise.