#do not give us just one career track we WILL DIE INSIDE

[insufficient-earth-skills]

Yes yes YES! You touch upon all the points and beats that make this scene one of my favourites and one I always rewind at least once because it makes me giggle but also makes me wanna do fisticuffs with Elendil, like so:

In the beginning, when Isildur’s sitting on that edge/fence, I looked really hard at those passersby and thought like one of them could be Valandil? There’s a dark head of curls BUT he walks by with his head ducked down and that does not seem like Valandil lol. He would just stone cold ignore Isildur.

It’s like in that interview you linked in your previous post, where Maxim talked about how in that episode Isildur is going through his options that have the best chance of him getting what he wants and I think that’s something we cannot forget: he has ambition. I’ve only started to grasp this after a couple of rewatches, but like, Isildur and Valandil are not that different. They both have a goal of ‘getting somewhere’, of serving Numenor, even, they just have very different ideas of how to get there.

Isildur has the luck that he’s from a rather well-off family, with a father who has followed the obvious career path for a competent man in the sea guard. And yeah, in the aftermath of his mother dying and the grief taking up a significant amount of your energy, narrowing his bandwidth, it probably seemed like the most prudent option to take his father’s advice and go for the same career. (Maybe he had a hand in getting his friends on the ships as cadets, too? Even though Valandil is clearly proud about the fact that he’s wanted this since he was a child. But how does that work if the 3 of them are set to take their sea trials at the same time, if Valandil was already training as a cadet while Isildur was getting himself thrown out of other guilds before signing up as cadet? Or is it like an age thing where you train with each other but you can taken the trials when you hit a certain age, no matter the amount of training you had? Thinking too hard about the world building is my forté, sorry, I digress.)

I want to add too, that in that first scene with Elendil, Isildur and Eärien, Isildur references that he heard from Anarion that Elendil himself deferred his sea trails TWICE!!! And then in trying to convince Isildur to stay on, he tells him that ‘the watery part of this world has a way of healing even the deepest of hurts’. Isildur counters with ‘The way it’s healed your’s?’ (which at this point we do not yet know refers to his mother but point still stands -) and it really throws into sharp relief for me that yes, 1. Elendil may not be over the loss of his wife and 2. he kinda threw himself into his career and expects his children to do the same, in order to make sense of his life as a widower. That may very well be why, as you mention, he doesn’t really put that burden on Eärien because even though she is struggling with getting accepted into the builders guild, she is clearly working hard for it and more importantly in this discussion, she has one goal, one ambition: making it into a specific guild. Which on the outside looks like she has it together but that is not necessarily the case. It’s just that for Isildur, it looks more obvious because he is constantly changing his mind about his occupation.

And then in the ‘recruitment’ scene I can really see Elendil’s POV really well because obviously, there is more at stake than his son’s individual career. If Elendil makes the mistake of signing someone up without the correct training, this might be a danger to the other ensigns (ensignees?). So there is his opinion as a captain to take into account, as well as him being a father who wants his son to succeed within the structures of their society, which all in all is not a bad thing. (And then Elendil’s line about how Isildur has been feigning fidelity to the traditions of this island while all the others around them have been living it for years, what a fucking line in light of the fact that the most faithful thing to Numenor Isildur will do is to grab a bunch of people and fuck off out of there on a couple of ships right before the island drowns, FUCKING WILD.)

Like, Elendil is obviously a very skilled captain which is not just being able to steer a ship in a harbour but also warrants people skills and being a mentor and such. So he knows how to coach people in a professional setting. And that’s what he’s trying to do with his son, except he’s kinda glossing over the fact that that’s maybe not the right way to convince Isildur. Like, he may have just explained to him the reasons for why he deferred his own sea trial when he was a youth. ‘Listen, these were my reasons and I worked through them or whatever and then I decided that I wanted to contribute to society in this way and worked hard for where I am now.’ I mean, big chance Isildur would still say no, though.

Isildur very much listens to his inner voice instead of people around him so his actions will always follow this.

Anyway I did not expect this show to make me feel so many things about a boy in his early 20′s but here we are, 5 paragraphs in and I could keep going. I will save it for a later time, however, like somewhere next year maybe when we’re starved for content.

Bonus:

Heavy side-eye Elendil when he sees his son sitting and knows what is coming.

Bonus 2:

VERY much a fan of Isil’s leather sleeve ties!

personally i feel like we don't talk about this scene enough

[mamasplat]

Hi, I'm new to your asks, and I just wanted to say that you True Serena True Run and Calem Run are my favorite things right now! I love them so much, I simply cannot wait to check out your blog.

I was just wondering if you still took writing requests?

If you do, I'd love to see a scene between Calem and his dad (we've already seen his mommy issues, now we need to see his daddy issues)

[also, a smidge of Kalosshipping with slowly creeping demi realization just for me? pretty please?]

Oh my god I’m so sorry it took me this long! But hey luckily for you we’re on the heels of a holiday that fills me with a grudge strong enough to kick my writers block aside for the sake of me venting my past frustrations through that reformed emo boy.

Calem doesn’t really have much in way of daddy issues, Louis is a great father! Catrina just does enough damage for two which he is trying to fix.

Quick notes!

You will notice Shauna is mentioned here, and while I’ve hardly brought it up I have given her and Calem a sense of solidarity while being total opposites. Shauna was seen in fanon (at least on wattpad) as an obstacle to a lot of die hard shippers and I lost track of how many comments I’ve spotted that label her along the lines of being a slut or whore. Much like I do regarding Magma Admin Courtney’s fanbase interpretations I take this into account and give Shauna the tragedy of girlhood: catty teenage gossip getting you ostracized at least a little.

I don’t get to explore it in this little oneshot but the idea of Shauna being a romcom obsessed girl and being the one to try and help Calem understand himself and his differences makes me feel very fuzzy inside.

more of a chekhov's gun to my kalosshiping stuff- it gets a solo upload outside of the main dabble collection. I do have one scene written out on my true kalos run based irl blog which is the scene where Calem would have his realization, or more accurately, Shauna calls him out on what’s happening- regarding his feelings towards Serena and how they’ve shifted in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar to him.

Sooo I could flesh that out into a full one! I already have a wip. Ya know…if you guys wanttt

◇─◇──◇─◇

The Combees and the Fletchling are Using Evasion Strategies (Hey That’s Banned in Tournament Scenes!)

◇─◇──◇─◇

Dad wasn’t always home, it used to be family trips.

Calem, mom, dad, the fresh snow of Anistar and Snowbelle.

It was mutually beneficial, dad’s ace needed cold climate somewhat regularly, mama’s Glaceon would never turn her nose up to the chilled breeze.

The only thing keeping them in the town of Vaniville was the deed to the house.

If not for the old time-y HOA they’d have the rights to do whatever they wished with the land as well.

It was his grandma’s, when she passed then it went to his mom, and one day it would be his.

And when the home is his to care for, he’s sure his parents will finally move to their snowy escape.

When his mother started to take his training seriously the house went on lockdown.

Hardly leaving, rigorous daily routines, not a moment to breathe.

It’s worth it, it'll all be worth it.

The abnormal cold of the yard in the summer, the mesmerizing mane of a neck that went far over the privacy fence, the rain created by the hose in his hand to get his father’s Aurorus prancing a ‘bout. Her trainer tending to his Hippowdon.

The neighbors always knew when Louis was home.

His mom never was one to talk to about feelings, let alone anything related to romance- it would earn him nothing but scorn for not having his full focus on his career. She wouldn’t let him be dulled by a pretty face.

Dad was easier to talk to, a lover boy in his own right who held no shame to brag about his teen years with Catrina and just how much Calem’s grandparents hated him.

His mom sounded like a much friendlier person when dad gushed about her. And maybe she was. He remembered his mom being much more caring when he was still too tiny to train. She means well, he thinks.

“You said if I needed to I could talk to you about anything, not as a parent but as an equal.” It’s never easy starting this kind of conversation, sitting there in one sided uncomfortable silence waiting to find the right stepping stones… “is that still true?”

“Of course, what’s up?” Casual, friendly, not uttered like a dog's command to speak. An easy flow.

He won’t turn away from the gentle giant of a fossil before him, not unless prompted at least. “When did you start like…..liking people..?” Stumbling far too vague to truly get his concern across.

“What do you mean? Like romantically because oh boy i-”

“Sexually.”

…and now the silence formed a new.

“Well, hormones are a natural thing.” His father reassures before he sees the full picture, “normally people start experimenting young, i think i was around 13 when i started getting into my own feelings. But I was a little younger than you now when I actually got physical.”

“And you know me and your mom were real sneaky back-”

And he already knows where he’s trying to lead the conversation, protection, finding the right person, all advice under the pretense that Calem’s interested in any of it.

“Gross.”

“Alright alright-”

He would rather die than learn any more about his parents sex life, his mom’s mom already said too much and nothing nice of it either.

“Look at glaceon and hippowdon, they like each other a whole bunch! They sneak around to keep us from getting onto them. And that’s all fine but-”

“They’re in the same egg group…” His words an unpleasant drone.

“Yup! And when they get too much alone time we have to call the professor to rehome the egg,” or they could’ve just given the egg to Calem- but his mom insists he isn’t ready for anything beyond his espurr. “it’s not their fault! But people can prevent that with condoms and birth control.”

“You know you could just get hippowdon neutered.”

His father chooses to ignore him. The same way he’d ignore his mom and the professor. He would not neuter his hippowdon out of a deep sense of dick sympathy-

“You have a major advantage because you can use modern advancements.” He expressed like some…weird car salesman for condoms.

“I mean like, I don't want to.”

“Don’t wanna what?”

He hears the amusement in his fathers voice and it makes things harder. He shuts off the hose much to the Ice type's confusion.

“Why don’t I feel this way?”

It’s a cutting tone, it’s a tone his wife spoke in. It gets him in gear. Turning his attention fully to the boy, crouched with dusty knees on the path of their front yard.

“Hey there’s no shame in it. What’s got you so worried about it?”

He lowers the hose, the fossil lowering her head sorrowfully.

“Why am I like this.”

Homeschooled since 3rd grade to be ran like a competitive race horse by his own mother. And even when he was in school he wasn’t well liked. His inflections didn’t come out right, his expressions didn’t seem natural, his smile only quirked at one side. Hiding behind teachers legs, under tables, trying to hide in closets to avoid eating lunch around others-

Louis tried, god he tried. While Catrina didn’t see reason to worry Louis did. Kids need friends- he got him into gymnastics for a few years, got a girl to go be his friend and got lucky enough that she’d stay around regardless of Calem’s lack of conversation.

It’s not enough to soothe the obvious.

“You’re just a little behind your peers, that makes you smart. You would not believe how many of my friends were teen dads.”

A different time back then, wild times where he and his ruthless wife ran the battle scene like a block party.

“I’m not behind, I’m not even there. I’m not in the race- whatever other stupid metaphor people use to avoid saying what they mean.”

He’s not a saint, but he’s not interested. He’s a guy- he had some guy friends and more so he had guys who picked him like a scab. He was best friends with a girl who had been randomly labeled as easy. He had a target on his back; the only difference now is that he’s learned to sneer at the crude comments and explicit suggestions.

Magazines, TV, videos, photos, online, physical media- sex sells and it’s all people expect of someone his age.

“You can’t rush love, son.”

Boots thudded with more weight as the conversation went, his movements and minuscule gestures quick and hasty. Not out of any aggression but rather to distract from the heavy weight in his stomach that made everything just a little too much.

“It’s not just sex. I’m not self conscious, I'm indifferent. Why does everyone think that.”

The words bark and crackle, frustration mounting and fracturing a stoic facade as his meaning is lost in translation time and time again. More like a blurt defense to his mother rather than a conversation with his father.

“Oh that’s not what I meant, I just mean…you can’t knock what you haven’t tried, Cal.”

His father’s words are laced in a low chuckle, earnest and kind. And it does nothing but salt a wound Calem can’t identify.

“You don’t get it. No one gets it.”

He’s only leaning into the stereotype, but maybe there’s a reason the stereotypes exist. Maybe hard headed teenagers are just some projection of adults who refuse to dig deeper into the uncomfortable truths of maturing, from adults who forget what it’s like to be young and confused.

The door shuts a little louder than he wanted. And his dad simply sighs. Shaking his head with a dulling smile.

He’s not mad, he’s just dejected.

◇─◇──◇─◇

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

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[omegas-spaghettios]

The Batch can 100% rescue Crosshair, y'all just haven't thought about it.

I have seen some posts and comments bemoaning Crosshair fans' frustration with the Batch not rescuing him. "Omega is their priority, they can't do it without putting her at risk, the Empire is too powerful.", all things I have read that supposedly make it so the Batch can't attempt to liberate Crosshair.

All of them are false.

I am going to go into excruciating detail of all of the ways I can think of that the Batch could reasonably do it.

Also, all of these are not just my ideas! I talked with @bimormondisaster pretty lengthily about this, a lot of the ideas are hers, check her out!

Now, the first "reason" why the Batch can't.

1) They can't put Omega at risk

I agree that taking Omega to try and liberate Crosshair is putting her at risk. But guess what? Cut Lawquane exists.

Cut has already shown he would happily take Omega in and raise her in his family. I seriously doubt Rex or the Batch have lost contact with him when he moved, they could contact him and ask him to watch Omega, he almost certainly would. Best case scenario the Batch succeeds and Omega just got a fun few days at Cut's house, they all have a reunion where Crosshair gets to see Omega and Cut again, they can have a nice reunion and celebration party. Worst case? The Batch fail and die, where Omega is safe and in good hands with Cut's family. Since the Batch's chips are removed and there is no evidence in canon to suggest they can be replaced, there is little risk of the Batch being reprogrammed and hunting after Cut.

Omega is also just part of the Batch now, guys. They've said this. The Batch has agreed to let her take any risk they take, and she could be incredibly helpful on a Raid on Kamino if it came to it, she could be a big help in saving Crosshair and I'm sure she would LOVE to help.

2) Kamino/The Empire is Too Powerful

First of all, no they aren't. The Clone Wars has shown us on multiple occasions that Kamino is able to be infiltrated. During the Rookies arc, we see that Ventress made it on planet with Aqua droids. They relied on Debris to build attack ships, but Ventress and the droids got there BEFORE Grievous did. This shows it is possible to get on planet undetected. Then the Conspiracy arc shows that if you are smart, you can navigate Kamino's defenses. Fives and AZ ALONE managed to infiltrate the medical bay, the DNA chambers, and the place where the earliest clones were being grown. They did that on there own! Not to discredit Fives, he is incredibly capable. But so is the Batch. Tech probably already knows that place inside and out, but if he doesn't he can learn very quickly. Omega also likely knows the facility incredibly well. If they don't, they could just convince a Droid like AZ to help or flat out reprogram them. Also, once in the facility, Hunter would certainly be able to track Crosshair. Bonus points, Fives got from the water up into the facility undetected, so between those two TCW arcs there is a clear demonstrated path to get into and around the facility.

Also, the Batch's entire Clone Wars career was designed around impossible missions. They were the ones called in when literally no other clones could cut it, I seriously doubt Kamino is the worst thing they have waded in to.

But even if it was too hard to do that for them (it isn't), they could try other avenues. The Batch could create a staging ground and dare Crosshair to come after them, which is almost certainly would. The Galaxy is so freaking big the writers could come up with countless planets and staging grounds for the Batch to create a good defensible position, but a good idea is a CIS war outpost.

We saw in Rebels that many old outposts and forts from The Clone Wars were abandoned. While I severely doubt that the Republic ones have been abandoned by this point in the timeline, they could have pretty good luck finding a CIS one. Most of the droids were deactivated, so finding a Fort or outpost or armory and seizing it should be easier than storming Kamino. They may have to deal with scrappers or pirates, but they are decidedly less intimidating than Kamino. Take a CIS post, take a few days to learn it, get it running, and modify it for a battle, and they're golden! Those facilities were DESIGNED for war, the hard part is just getting it functioning. They could fix it up, dig in their heels and dare Crosshair to attempt it, which they could capture him during the battle.

3) "They don't have the manpower"

Sure they do, I have already established that Kamino is not impossible to get around, one clone and Droid did it, for Christ's sake. But fine, they don't want to do it with just Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo. Good news! They have allies!

They could ask Rex. Rex at least has Trace and Rafa, undoubtedly more. If they went to Rex and asked for his help in exchange for their help in the future, that can boost their numbers.

Then they have Cid. Now she will charge. But if they spend time doing jobs and saving up, they could pay for Cid's help in acquiring supplies or allies who would be willing to help for hire. Cid also might just be willing to point them in the direction of someone who could help.

Then there is Saw Gerrera. They would have to find him, but I'm SURE he would help. If they went to him and said "hey, we need your help rescuing a brother, in exchange for your help we will give you guided access to Kamino and help you sabotage or damage it while we are there." Saw would almost certainly jump at the chance.

Then, absolute worst case scenario, they could find battle droids. We have already seen in the series where they could find some, they are probably not incredibly hard to get. They might even be on Bracca, too. They could take some time and find droids to reprogram and build themselves a force that way.

Even just ONE of those 4 options could help. If they went for all 4, they legit have the allies to form a small army, that's enough.

4) How to remove Crosshair's Chip

This isn't criticism I have seen but it's more evidence, you can remove his chip easily. Do it on Kamino during the raid, for one. The procedure itself takes only a few minutes. Granted, that is a lot of time in a high stress situation. But even if Crosshair took as long as Wrecker to recover, taking an unconscious Crosshair out of Kamino would be just as easy if not easier to take than an unconscious or tied up Crosshair with an active chip.

I also doubt the empire figured out why the Batch were on Bracca, most likely thought they were just scavenging. They could return to Bracca on another ship and use their facility. But if they don't want to do that, the ship Rex went down on in Season 7 has one. If not that, Tech has worked personally with the equipment on the ship, he could certainly find somewhere in the Galaxy with comparable equipment to do the procedure.

In Conclusion

Please stop saying shit to Crosshair fans about this. The Batch is well within their power to do this, they have the resources available. They can do it now, but they haven't yet. I am aware a lot of these resources were found during the first half of the season. But now they have them and no explicit goal, they can 100% look at all of these ways or even ways I haven't thought of, pick one, and do it.

[disfordevineaux]

Hello ! So if you finished watching season 4, could you share your opinion on it ? Did it meet your expectations ? Was the ending satisfying ?

HELLO! Yes, yes I have. Pretty much the second it came out I was watching it. I have pretty much been in a gif making coma for the last 3 days since its release, and I think the fact it's over has now just hit me.

I really liked s4. It was rushed, yes, but that's understandable considering the context. S4 was clearly not the initial plan. Not many Netflix aminated TV shows reach S6 or past that, so I have a feeling they were going for 6 seasons but had to cut it short. It's better than it getting officially cancelled. Which is most likely why season 4 was full to the brim with actions and character development. So I'm not mad at the quick end but I would have loved at least one more season to really flesh the development and plot points. No more so than the Devineaux development in regards to the new Julia and Chase dynamic.

Before I go into that I want to address the solo Chase-ness that was fantastic. Chase got his ass kicked like 5 times this season, once by a chair.

And was clocked by a frisbee for good measure too.

Oh, and landed on his car another time. The pain in his face... I- help this man.

But he got to kick some of his own asses this season too ofc.

Anyway, Chase really stood up and said ‘I am a Himbo’ this season and it filled me with joy. Just look. veryveryveryvery handsome as always I approve of this message.

Enough said.

Let me get on with the big thing I want to talk about. The Chase and Julia dynamic reinvention.

If I’m honest, it did feel quick, due to time constraints, but not out of nowhere. My expectations for Chase and his growth was blown out of the water. I was incredibly impressed with his physical display for admiration for Julia in the end. His way of officially apologising, (as someone said on a rb of one of my posts), Chase is a person of action and his grand gesture of giving Julia the spotlight, as well as a few glowing compliments and a callback and twist of what he used to say, was a great twist on just an ordinary apology. I adore how you can clearly see that he means it.

It was monumental, if a subtle display of respect that clearly struck a positive chord with Julia, and only could have with Julia. Just look at her face in the gif above, PURE. She clearly seemed as though she had decided to forgive his past transgressions after his help in her rescue.

Most definitely helping in her decision to return to ACME to be his partner again. Know she isn't alone and that Chase truly has changed for the best. I love how Chase was complete rapture that she had decided to return, even going for a hug. The guy really went from S1 striving to be stoic all the time, to allow himself to wear his emotions and expressiveness on his sleeves. Just, good vibes right there. It felt like the s4 Chase we got was always there but hidden by his ego and by himself deliberately.

Wholesome stuff my guys. My heart was FULL. I tell you. FULL. I slapped my hand to my chest in awe. He even asked: ‘But your academic career?’ and was happy to be finally able to hunt down real criminals with her, as, and I quote, a family. Adorable.

Don’t even get me started on the fist-bumping. I would throw myself into a pit of fire for them.

And those inside jokes? I could be here all day. Their dynamic now, if not nearly displayed a much as I wanted, was nourishing to my soul. Just LOOK

And that is just one scene.

After the first time jump of 3 weeks, they appeared to be finally enjoying one another company, a true team. Then after 6 months, it seemed even more natural, playful too. They trusted each other's abilities and opinions. Sharing their belief that Carmen was good as well as supporting one another as good partners should, especially Chase. They look so comfortable in each other presence it was immaculate.

They appeared content, and I loved that most of all. Chase was genuinely interested in Julia’s explanations and it was heartwarming to see. Julia appreciating it too. Watching them interact as close friends now was such a treat. The last 2-3 episodes, in particular, Chase even asking her to continue and adding onto her historical divulges. Awesome stuff. And Julia running into Carmen just as she was about to punch Chase’s lights out was pretty sweet too, as well as her getting one in on Cleo, GO GIRL GO. Julia this season had so much more depth. Loved it.

Also, finding out Chase’s name is in fact a self-given nickname was right on theme with the show. So many people with real names we will never know.

Back onto the expressions and his enthusiasm. I mean LOOK. This dude- AND THE CAT JACKET RETURNS!

He just loves his wordplay.

Anyway- The effect Julia had on him was profound and just fantastic to see. He wanted to be better. Chase will no doubt rub off some of his own flairs onto her in due time I'm sure.

Chase working with carmen and the small interaction we got were great as well. Still a little rigid, but full of intrigue.

Chase wanting to go and save Julia, because he earlier felt as though this was all his fault, was precious too. And the whole Tigress and Chase fight scene was amazing. He trapped her inside a casket, iconic. And Chase showing up as Julia is like ‘omfg Devineaux is that you?’ As he just all suave says ‘fashionably late as always’ and pushes his messy hair back like HOOO BOY you lovely little stinker I would die for you. He was ready to fight 1 v 3. No one has the same determination as a Devineaux. For an ordinary guy, he is really able to keep up with the best, if not behind a tad I MEAN UM. DUDE SLID DOWN THE STAIRS AND JUMPED RIGHT INTO A HOLE. No second thought THEN SWUNG HIMSELF OVER NO PROB? Who is this athlete of a man?

Like my man, you are not graceful at all please let carmen do it.

In the end, he really did save them both which was vindication, Speaking of vindication:

Okay, I really went off track and hardly said what I wanted to say. I got carried away with gifs. I think I said what I wanted to say? Right now my brain is still mushie.

To finalize: I was content with the end. Zack and Ivy joining ACME as Carmen has some time to go truly find herself was an interesting idea. The 2 year time jump at the end left a few holes but hey, I’ll take it. Shadowsan returning to his brother was so nice to see, and Player all alone in the restaurant kinda broke my heart. The entire storyline with Chase and Julia was absolutely, revolutionary. It was what we deserved, what they deserved.

I think my love for Chase really made me live for the scenes and moments we got of him alone and interacting with others. Season 3-4 really were his crowning glory. I'm proud of him.

Also, I want to mention the Zack/Turtle scene because I nearly died when I saw it the way the turtle wiggles and the way he rUNS I- okay goodbye.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Four

“Dang it!” I bellow eight days later, as my body gives way and topples over, having used too great of force to yank a now dead primrose from the ground.

Yesterday morning I had come outside to discover the yellow evening primroses, the flowers Peeta had planted upon his arrival back in Twelve, had all but died.

And I didn’t even notice. I’ve been so distracted with everything else going on in my life—namely Peeta and his blonde companion—that I entirely forgot about the flowers. The flowers that my sister was named for. The flowers meant to represent her when she was no longer alive to represent herself.

The idea that I could forget the plant, that I let myself lag on the simple duty of keeping them alive and watered and healthy, felt as if I had let my little sister down all over again. It felt as if I’d failed Prim a second time.

And it’s more than I can handle. I can’t even endure the thought. The very implication that I am, in any way, dishonoring my sister’s memory is entirely unbearable. Even if it is just me implying it, inside my head.

But in any case, it looks like the primroses are too far gone and I don’t have even a chance at resurrecting them back to life. I took too long to notice their wilting, I was too caught up in other things, that I let the plants die and now there’s no going back.

For a split second I consider returning one of my mother’s many calls to ask for gardening advice. She has always had a green thumb and been able to grow whatever she set her mind to. I never had any of those skills. I was a hunter by nature, not a nurturer.

No, that was Prim. The soft and gentle one, who loved animals, who could heal any wound she could identify, who could garden and grow herbs just as well as our mother.

And I miss her so much. I miss my little sister so very much that I almost breakdown into tears right then and there, right in front of the dead primrose bush outside my house.

“Katniss?” I hear someone call in the distance. I recognize the voice instantly.

And rapidly get up and make a beeline towards my front door.

Unfortunately he’s determined to catch me. After eight solid days of evasion, Peeta is dead set on catching me at any given opportunity before him.

It’s almost funny how once upon a time it was him who wished to avoid me. It was him who craved distance between us, who acted icy and detached at every encounter, whether forced or by chance.

Now it’s him trying to force an encounter between us, trying desperately to make up for hurting me, trying to still be a part of my life, even after I pronounced our relationship finished.

The bread he left on my doorstep—that I immediately tossed in the garbage—is proof of that. The cheesebuns he left on my counter who met their demise to a flock of birds on my back porch is proof of that. The cookies he baked and passed through Greasy Sae when I went to trade at the new, rebuilt Hob is glaring proof of his efforts.

I did actually eat those but I made sure to do it in private, where Peeta would never know if his token was accepted or not.

Because I don’t want him to think we’re okay. I don’t want Peeta to believe me and him can still be friends, with Bailey Robyn, the uptight, controlling blonde still lingering over his every move.

Okay, maybe I’m being a bit overdramatic. Bailey isn’t residing over Peeta’s every action. She probably doesn’t even know he’s made all these treats for me. And she surely wasn’t sitting by his side in the corner of Greasy Sae’s booth when our eyes briefly met before I stubbornly stormed out.

But I feel like she is. I feel her presence overcast in every one of Peeta’s actions, in every deed he partakes in, in every moment I run into him. Maybe it’s only inside my head but it’s enough reason for me to avoid Peeta. It’s enough reason that I wish to stand by my words eight days ago and cut him directly out of my life. With a chainsaw if necessary, I wish to cut the invisible cord that has tied me and him together for so long now.

“Katniss!” Peeta calls again, his arms grasping my waist just in time to prevent my escape into the house.

“Go away,” I mutter under my breath, ire and ache still seeping off me even after a week separating this moment here with our last interaction.

“Why are you upset?” He asks, a little breathless now from the race to my front door. But even tired, concern still manages to leak into his tone. His blue eyes still show anxiety for my well-being.

And it’s still not enough to thaw me.

“You know why,” I say rigidly, pulling my front door open and shoving his hands away from me.

“No, no, I mean,” he quickly tries to correct his question. “I meant, what’s happened out here that has you upset?”

I audibly huff, my eyes about as warm as a popsicle in a snowstorm. The last thing I want to do is stand here and recount just about anything to Peeta, especially in regards to the way I’m currently feeling.

Especially after the last time we spoke about our feelings, when I chose to let him in and allowed him to see the vulnerable parts of me that I never trust anyone with.

Only for him to turn around and side with Bailey over me.

But knowing how persistent Peeta can be when properly determined—his intensity to train like a Career, Brutus’ murder and him warning District Thirteen about Snow’s incoming attack all fly to the top of that list—I merely gesture widely to my backyard, where the dead flowers lie.

It only takes Peeta a moment to click it all together, to his credit. Though I’m hesitant to even offer him that right now.

“I’ll replant them,” he instantly offers, like a dog begging to fetch his owner a carcass bone.

“Don’t bother,” I say, about as rude and uninviting as humanly possible. “It’s not your responsibility.”

I’m just stepping into the house when Peeta’s hand shoves on the door, hard enough to keep it open. For a split second, I contemplate putting all my strength behind it and slamming his fingers in the door. But even as mad as I am—even as wounded as I am—I won’t physically harm Peeta.

After all, he already lost his leg once about I tied it in a tourniquet. I may have saved his life but I also cost him half a limb and that thought alone stops me from nearly taking his fingers off too.

“Katniss, I want to,” he pleads and his eyes are so big and blue and I feel my heart involuntarily melt a bit upon at the sight. “I want to replant them.”

I release an unconscious breath, for the first time in over a week not completely hostile towards the boy with the bread, who in my eyes, completely turned his back on me. Or so it feels. “I’ll just end up killing them again, Peeta. I’m serious. Don’t even bother.”

“Then I’ll tend to them,” Peeta throws out, getting more and more desperate the more I refuse, it seems.

I’m about to brush off his offer once again when another voice joins us. “Oh, let him do it, sweetheart. The boy needs a hobby besides baking,” Haymitch chimes in, standing at the bottom of my porch, looking drunk as ever.

“You love that baking is his only hobby,” I shoot back at the paunchy, old man.

“Well, not anymore. Since you two started fighting he’s been making me fat. I need a break.”

I’m about to come back with another comment, probably one to suggest Haymitch doesn’t have to eat everything Peeta brings, when we’re joined by a third presence.

Of course, she has to join us. Bailey can’t seem to let Peeta go anywhere without her nowadays.

“What’s going on?” She murmurs, looking around at all our tense body language. Well, at mine and Peeta’s tense body language. Haymitch is currently sitting on the bottom step of my porch now, as relaxed as Buttercup is in the window.

Peeta opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it again, glancing back at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to discuss his offer to help me with his girlfriend or if it’s the fact that he clearly knows I dislike the notion of Bailey in my business, but either way I’m a little pleased when he closes his mouth and adverts eye contact away from the blonde.

Instead it’s my drunken mentor who elaborates. “The girl’s flowers died. Your boyfriend just wants to replant them.”

To my utter astonishment, Bailey seems amendable to the idea. “The flowers for your sister?” She inquires, looking right at me. I shoot her a quizzical—and perhaps slightly unfriendly—look out of the corner of my eye but she continues on anyway. “Peeta, you should help her plant them again. Especially since you let them die-“

But I’ve heard enough from her—and everyone else here, for that matter—and I turn to Peeta, my hand still holding the doorknob tightly, ready to slam it shut. “Fine,” I cave, my tone anything but grateful. “Go ahead and replant the primroses. If that’s going to help you, then go for it.”

I don’t wait to hear a response from any of the parties now camped out on my property. Instead I shove Peeta’s fingers off my door—first time I’ve touched him in eight days—and throw it shut with such a force I feel the walls in my entryway shake.

“She’s always been a spitfire,” I hear Haymitch mumble as three sets of footsteps make their way further from my porch.

I barely catch Peeta’s response. If I hadn’t been standing by the door, unintentionally listening to hear what they may be saying, I would have missed it altogether.

“That’s the best thing about her.”

/

It’s just mere hours later before I’m disturbed once again. This time not by a crew of three but by one solo intruder.

“Sweetheart?” Haymitch barks, evidently not too keen on the fact that I decided to turn every light in my house off after returning home from the Hob.

“Go away,” I mumble out, knowing well and clear that he can’t hear me from upstairs. I’m in my bedroom, lying in the safety of my own bed, in my own private sanctuary, where I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone at any cost.

Of course, it only takes a few minutes of bumping into things and cursing for Haymitch to track me down. “Girl, it’s six at night?” He says incredulously.

“So?” I snap, as he turns my light on, effectively blinding me.

“Did you just forget about dinner tonight?” He asks, his voice neither kind nor hostile. In all honesty, he just sounds puzzled.

“Why are you in my room, Haymitch?” I murmur, rubbing my eyes until they adjust to the beaming brightness and pulling myself upwards now. Off his dismissive glance, I let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Of course, we’re not really talking about me skipping a meal. I highly doubt Haymitch truly cares if I miss dinner by my own accord. He surely wasn’t too interested in my meal intake when he brought me home from the Capitol and dropped me off on my doorstep.

No, we’re referring to the weekly dinners me, Peeta and Haymitch have at the old man’s pig sty. The same dinners I’ve brought Delly along to, that Haymitch is constantly passing out drunk during, that Bailey has been crashing nonstop since arriving here in Twelve.

When I came home from trading at the Hob tonight, I decided I was done with those dinners. I don’t need to subject myself to bossy Bailey any longer, and my resolve to keep Peeta out of my life as much as humanly possible is still strong. Despite the fact that I agreed to let him plant the primroses in my garden again and tend to their growth, I still don’t wish for us to be friends. I still don’t want to subject myself any further to him and Bailey’s exhibits.

And I figured no one would mind my absence anyways. At least not for a few dinners. I knew eventually Haymitch would try to push me to come back and Peeta would probably ask me very sweetly to join again, but I didn’t think the first night I skipped would be a huge production.

And okay, maybe there is a small part of me who deep down hopes if I refuse to come, Bailey may be disinvited in order to make me feel welcome again. It’s a long shot and not one I’d consciously admit to counting on, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small, minuscule part of me wishing for that to happen just the same.

Haymitch glances at me suspiciously now. “You’re always hungry, kid.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most enthusiastic eater I know.”

Okay, he is blatantly confused apparently. His drunken goggles are blurring his perspective of reality, it would seem.

In any case, I flop backwards on my bed and roll away, hoping if I ignore my mentor long enough he’ll just evaporate into thin air.

But for some reason, Haymitch is weirdly dogged tonight. “Come on,” he urges, shaking my shoulder a bit too roughly. “I know the boy always says you’re just like me, but this little display is over the top, Katniss.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you even want me at those dinners, Haymitch? You have Peeta and Bailey there.” I can’t stop myself from throwing the extra emphasis on Bailey, as immature as it may be.

However, the old man isn’t interested in dignifying me with a response. “And Delly. And Johanna. And Annie Cresta.”

That catches me completely off-guard. “What?”

In the time since the war ended and I returned to Twelve—or rather, was exiled to Twelve—no one from the other districts have visited. I have barely seen anyone I know in the last few months, outside Haymitch, Peeta and Delly.

“Some of which are anxious to see you at dinner,” he adds, gesturing for me to get up.

I shoot him a mordant glance. “Johanna’s anxious to see me?”

“I said some. Meaning Delly and Annie,” he clarifies. Off my still hesitant expression, he reaches down and tugs on my wrist, trying to get me out of bed.

“Fine!” I exclaim, feeling strangely embarrassed now as I realize that our roles are suddenly being reversed. I’m the one who always forced him out of bed, who made him come to meals, who fought with him to hurry up and get moving.

In the end, I don’t bother cleaning myself up or trying to appear presentable. Johanna and Annie won’t care and Peeta doesn’t get to care anymore.

And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if Effie Trinket or my entire prep team were here, I’d never stand a chance of looking anything but plain next to Bailey.

It’s not that I care that she’s so blatantly pretty. It’s just that her looks are one more thing about her presence to be bothered by, and that list is getting long and extensive. Even after her apparent approval of Peeta gardening my primroses, even after no negative interactions in eight days, I still sense hostility with her. And I still can’t stare at her without feeling my stomach churn.

Because every time she’s around, I know I’m about to be the odd one out. For whatever reason, outside of Delly, the people I care for, hold a deep affinity for Bailey Robyn.

And it bothers me above anything I can express. It bothers me beyond words, beyond measure, beyond any sense of feeling.

“Look who I found,” Haymitch announces as we enter through the threshold of his filthy residence.

“Katniss!” Annie exclaims and tosses her arms around my neck, despite the fact that we’ve never been too close. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation in person. The only true communication between me and Annie is the letters she sends, the ones filled with details of her life in Four and Finnick’s son. The ones I rarely respond to, but always read just the same.

Still, despite the fact that Annie might as well be a glorified stranger to me, I return the embrace, instinctively at first and then, simply because I want to. Because no one besides Peeta has given me any sort of affection in months and I miss it. Now that Peeta has put conditions on our relationship, I am hungry for any physical touch at all.

It shocks me to realize, in that moment, just how completely starved I am, for closeness.

I hug Annie for far longer than I think anyone watching anticipated but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to welcome it too.

Then again, her husband died and left her with seemingly no family at all to help raise their baby. So perhaps she’s just as desperate for a human touch—I suppose besides her son—as I am.

I don’t receive the same welcome from Johanna, unsurprisingly, but as soon as me and Annie break apart, she shoots me a satirical glance and pulls on a piece of my hair.

“Ow!” I exclaim, my thick brows furrowing in confusion. “What was that for?”

“It was sticking up,” she explains with a shrug and then smirks. “Did you just roll out of bed and come here?”

“Did you?” Her outfit is just denim pants and a low cut t-shirt. Not that different from my attire.

“Yes. And I’m not ashamed of it.” She runs a hand over her hair which has grown out to about length with her shoulders. “But I know how to use a hairbrush, at least.”

I roll my eyes as she nudges me. “This is dinner,” Haymitch deadpans as he makes his way to the table. “Not a Capitol Beauty Contest.”

Jo examines the unwashed table as we follow the grumpy man’s lead. As of right now, the table is completely void of substance. “Doesn’t dinner imply food?” She asks and Annie laughs lightly, suggesting she was thinking along the same lines.

“Haymitch doesn’t believe in cooking himself,” I retort, earning a look from the old man. “He’s waiting for Peeta to arrive with food.”

“You’re more than welcome to provide the meal, sweetheart.”

“And what are you providing?”

“The residence the meal is served at.”

“And what a residence it is!” Exclaims a completely different voice, a higher pitched soprano.

And like clockwork, three blonde heads round the corner of the dining room, abruptly joining the party.

Delly looks as enthusiastic to be walking with Peeta and Bailey as I am to be in their company right now. Which she further evidences by hurrying to the seat at my right.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a grin,” Haymitch remarks as he pulls out a bottle of white liquor and pours it into a half-clean glass.

“Wonder why that is,” I murmur out loud before thinking better of it. After all, Haymitch seems to care for Bailey more than me nowadays. I should probably not stir the pot before the food is even presented before me.

But he doesn’t reply back. Even if he did, I doubt I’d notice anyway.

Because, in the flash of a second, the attention of the room is completely shifted.

I knew Bailey was coming with Peeta. She’s practically glued to his hip at all times of day, almost as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. But it would seem that Haymitch did not inform Johanna or Annie about Peeta’s new relationship, effectively catching them both by surprise at the additional dinner guest.

And there’s little room for doubt to anyone with eyes that they’re together. Their hands are practically singed as one, in an airtight grasp, her manicured nails intertwined with his long fingers.

For a split second I wonder if that’s what my hand looked like inside Peeta’s last week. I wonder if this is what Bailey saw before her, when she caught us roaming through town at the crack of dawn.

“Barley?” Johanna says in a shocked voice.

It takes a moment for her comment to compute in my brain. “Bailey,” I correct, trying to be helpful. Though I’m unsure where she even managed to get the name Barley at all. Especially if Haymitch didn’t warn her about the girl Peeta was bringing and I strongly suspect he didn’t.

Jo looks at me like I’m insane for the amendment before turning back to Bailey and Peeta. “You’re dating Bailey Barley?” She say incredulously.

Bailey Barley? Is that a nickname? Now I’m the one who’s completely lost at sea, feeling like there was a good chunk of time I somehow missed.

Bailey’s blue eyes stare into Jo’s now, not exactly friendly but not as belligerent as I’ve seen her before. As I saw her last week.

I don’t know nor do I understand what they’re silently communicating, but I do comprehend one thing without a doubt.

Johanna knows Bailey. Somehow, someway, Johanna knows Bailey even more than I do.

Peeta doesn’t seem too confused though. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the exchange at all. Instead he drops Bailey’s hand—not soon enough, in my opinion—and moves to set some kind of meat and potato meal down on the table.

“Where did you get the meat?” I ask abruptly, recognizing it as deer. I just shot my first in a long time only the other day. How on Earth did Peeta get deer meat around the same time I did.

“I traded a cake for it. At the Hob,” he explains nonchalantly, avoiding my bewildered eyes now.

I just stare at him for a second, debating on even further commenting.

The Hob is where I traded the deer after killing it. Peeta literally baked a cake and traded it for meat, just because I wouldn’t speak to him.

He literally traded a cake so I could eat the meat that I hunted myself.

Something about that scenario vindicates me slightly. And I have to wonder if I’ve become sadistic with time and solitude.

My attention though is pulled back to Johanna and Bailey now. “What’re you doing in Twelve?”

Bailey takes her seat, between Haymitch and Peeta, with grace. “Peeta and I met in the Capitol,” she states simply. “I decided to come here and spend some more time with him. Get to know him a little better.”

As if to punctuate her words, she places one dainty hand on top of Peeta’s and gives it a squeeze.

I can’t even fight my eye roll.

“I see,” Jo murmurs, casting a sideway glance at me, none too subtle. “Well, it looks like you did... that.”

Delly snickers into her water glass and I don’t miss the way Bailey shoots her an irritated glance. Peeta seemingly does though. Haymitch is already too tipsy to care if an actual fight breaks out among us, his white liquor kicking in quick.

Annie on the other hand, who I’ve always believed to often be oblivious to all those around her, decidedly cuts the tension here. “Well, I’m hungry. Peeta, pass me a plate.”

And just like that, we’re having one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had to endure.

Read More On AO3

[the-gc-record-club-blog]

HEAUX TALES (JAZMINE SULLIVAN)

Selected by V Nasty

OBELLA’S TAKE

Favorite Song: On It ft. Ari Lennox

Spit Yo' Game/Talk Yo' Shit: My honorable mention is Ari’s Tale because that skit is actually one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. God, I would die for Ari Lennox. But that is neither here nor there. Jazmine did that with her brilliant display of the diversity of femininity and womanhood, powerful female vocalists behind the insane vocals Ms. Sullivan already has going for her, and a selection of songs that give us grief, confusion, insecurity, empowerment, and self-love all wrapped in one. It has bangers but also has ballads and it never felt like too much of either. A very well balanced R&B hit album if I do say so myself... and I do... say so myself that is

Lit-mus Test: 🔥����🔥🔥

VANESSA’S TAKE

Favorite Song: Put It Down Spit Yo' Game/Talk Yo' Shit: I really enjoyed Reality Show, the album before this one (and I recently got the shock of my life in remembering that it came out in 2015!!), but somehow Heaux Tales is even better. Jazmine Sullivan has been a consistent presence for years but doesn't get nearly enough credit for being one of the greatest vocalists in the game - and improving on the model with each new release. "Put It Down" gives me everything I could want in an R&B song and she's singing/spittin from *within the gd fibres* of her bag; the call/response/harmony segment at 00:20-00:28 sounds so perfect to my ears that it literally gives me goosebumps. I'm weary of skits on albums as they rarely do enough to convince me that the album wouldn't be better without them, that's the only reason why this didn't get a 5-flame rating. But Jazmine is at her zenith on Heaux Tales - she found the perfect mix of bangers and ballads, and I'm struggling to find better words to describe this but her attitude/swagger on this album is off the charts. As such, I'd be remiss if I didn't write in an honourable mention for "Pick Up Your Feelings" because wheeeeew get out the way!

Lit-mus Test: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

OCHIENG’S TAKE

Favorite Song: Bodies - Intro

Spit Yo' Game/Talk Yo' Shit: I thought Jazmine's career was much older than it actually was, seeing as though most of my experience with Jazmine is through her singles from her debut album. It's actually crazy to think about but Jazmine is actually younger than J Cole, who has been around for a while but I hardly consider him a veteran. I think the reason I thought Jazmine's career had a much longer run than it actually did is because her biggest hits are dated so clearly by their sound. This isn't a bad thing by any means, but it worried me going in. You often see when people relied on a certain sound during their prime they try to recreate that magic by using a completely different sound that's not suitable to their strengths in an attempt to adapt. I think Eminem and Nas are recent examples of this. However, Jazmine came through in full effect and delivered an amazing project. From the opening track she had me hooked and now I need to go through her discography in full! Lit-mus Test: 🔥🔥🔥(and a half for good measure)

CALVIN’S TAKE

Favorite Song: Girl Like Me (feat. H.E.R.)

Spit Yo' Game/Talk Yo' Shit: For better or worse, one of the first things I'll do these days when I look at any piece of content is: how long is this? In a noisy world (some of y'all need to pipe down for real), you kind of have no choice but to be good, be brief, and be gone if you're going to break through. Enter "Heauxtales" - thank you Jazmine Sullivan. What I love about this album so much is not just that it's 30 minutes long - it's the clarity of the concept, and how quickly Jazmine pulls us into it. By track four (seven minutes in) we know: Jazmine's grown. But she seems to be going through it. She needs to get it together. Is she too grown to be going through it and not have it together? Antoine is going through it too. Ari, we hear you. Men ain't shit but: can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em! It would seem that people (but Jazmine is specifically doing this one for the ladies)...have needs and contain multitudes.

None of this would have connected without the power of the vocal performances on the project. It's almost scary that the power to belt out a hook like on "Pick Up Your Feelings" can exist inside a human that isn't 50 feet tall or lives on top of a mountain ruling over their subjects. It's a vulnerable album that's presented very confidently, because Jazmine seems so accepting and present within herself, her feelings, and the contradictions within them. That willingness to lay it all out makes it (to me) sound fresh, without chasing trends.

Lit-mus Test: 🔥🔥🔥🔥 (and a half for good measure)

[donutloverxo]

Strong woman

Authors note- This was written for a very sweet anon. I hope you like it. Happy reading💕

Please do not steal or repost my work. Reblogs are more than welcome.

Summary- You have always secretly wanted to be dominated. Steve fulfills your wish.

Warnings- smut, spanking, dom Steve, sub reader, mentions of pornography, sexist workplace.

Word count-2k

Masterlist

It was another mission. Another day where little boys with big egos - who were much younger and inexperienced than you questioned your authority.

Being a female shield agent was tough. If you had a dollar for every time your authority was questioned or someone had called you bitch or cunt, you’d probably be richer than Tony Stark.

Here you were getting yelled at by Director Fury for your teammates mistakes.

Still you took it like a champ. Not being fazed by him one bit.

You had learned years ago, if you have to survive in this field you have to be stone cold. At work you adapted somewhat of a resting bitch-face and a don’t fuck with me attitude. It was the only way to get people to actually listen to you.

Though in the process you had lost yourself. Being someone else for most of the time wasn’t easy, it felt very isolating. You often wondered if it was worth it.

You could never talk about your love for makeup or baking. Or crack a smile just because you felt like it or even wear a pretty pink dress.

You had never been able to hold a stable relationship. No one could understand why you loved and somewhat hated your job at the same time. Being taller than most men didn’t help either.

In other words, men were scared of you. You were well aware of that and had accepted nunhood for the rest of your life.

That was until you met him.

At six foot two he was one of the few men taller than you. You felt so precious and womanly whenever he hugged you or bent down to kiss you. His muscles were so hard and tender at the same time. He also had one of the most beautiful smiles which matched perfectly with his sparking blue eyes.

All your life, you never would’ve guessed a man from the forties, a man out of time, would be able to understand you. To support your career but at the same time call you out whenever you overdid it.

You didn’t have to pretend with him. You could stop in your tracks and gush over how cute a small puppy is or watch chessy romcoms and let your feminine side breathe.

You hadn’t been dating for long before you two became intimate. He was quite nervous, so you had to take the lead.

While you didn’t mind guiding him or telling him what to do, sometimes you just wished he’d tie you to your bed and just do whatever the hell he wants with you.

Own you and dominate you and push you.

There was an easy solution to this problem. You could just ask him to be more dominant but you weren’t willing to risk it. You had finally found ' one'. Besides, who cares if he isn’t into fucking you till you passed out?

After an hour long lecture from Fury you took a long shower in the locker room and called Steve to let him know you were headed to your place. He offered to go there first to cook you some dinner. As much as you didn’t want to be a bother you couldn’t refuse. After all he did make delicious chilli.

You wiggled the keys in your apartment door and closed it behind you. You smelled the delicious food and smiled to yourself. Not coming home to an empty house surely was something else. Maybe someday you could make this a permanent arrangement.

“Steve?”, you called out for him and went inside the living room to see him sitting on your sofa staring at the screen of your laptop. “What are you doing?”

“Oh... I”, he looked at you as you were staggered, “I needed to check my emails. But this was already on”, he tilted the laptop so you could see the screen and you felt as if you could die right there.

You had left your pretty hardcore bdsm porn on.

“Look! That’s probably an ad!” How were you a spy but such a terrible liar at the same time?

“Doesn’t look like it,” he replied and went back to looking at the screen. His jaw clenched and eyes squinted. “You like this stuff?”

You cringed and shut your eyes hard as if doing that would get you out of this situation. “I... yes, it’s mine. But you were gone for like a week! I had to make do with something. I have needs!” you screamed at the end and covered your mouth to stop embarrassing yourself further.

“Believe me I know that,” he smirked “what’s that?” he asked pointing at the screen.

You were surprised at how calm he was. Shouldn’t he be out the door by now?

“That’s a... uh.. flogger”

You noticed his adams apple bob as he swallowed. “Looks interesting. Do you want to try it?” he looked at you expectantly.

You suddenly felt put on spot. Was this a trap, a test? What were you supposed to say? You decided to just go with the truth. You can’t dig yourself out of this hole no matter how hard you tried.

“Well...yeah..”

He stared into your eyes as if he was looking through your soul. “Then we should. Where do you want to start?”

“I... well I’ve always wanted to be spanked. Not by a whip! But you know.. because I’ve been a bad girl”

“You have been a bad girl. Watching such things while I was gone. What should we do with you” he closed the laptop and put it on the coffee table in front of him.

You looked at his buldging cock straining against his jeans. He spread his legs and rubbed his jean clad thighs smirking down at them. He looked up at you willing you to speak. “I asked you a question”

“Whatever you see fit, " you replied, trying to sound sultry. “Sir,” you added for good measure.

“Get over my lap,” he ordered.

You felt your body moving before your mind could register what he had said. You bent over his lap and rested your weight on it as he stroked and groped your clothed ass.

“I think five slaps should be enough," he hummed, "Did you touch yourself?” he stopped stroking waiting for your answer.

“Yes, I did," you bit your lip already feeling aroused and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Well then... how about ten slaps?” he asked giving your ass a squeeze.

You moaned and frantically nodded your head. “Yes, sir”

“Do you think I’m going to spank you over your leggings?” he asked, his tone on the verge of annoyance.

You pulled your leggings and panties down as fast as you could and gripped the arm of the sofa dripping in anticipation.

“Good girl,” he praised you and stroked your ass in circular motions. “You will count for me?” he asked though it was more of an order than a question.

“Yes, sir."

He bent over to kiss the hair behind your ear. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he whispered in your ear. His voice tender and loving, a stark contrast to how he was speaking before. You nodded yes.

He slapped your right cheek hard. The noise echoing through your living room.

You gasped feeling him stroke your burning cheek. “One," you sighed.

He took a few moments to admire your ass, entranced by it. He had always loved it. He loved looking at it when you wore tight pants or bent down to pick something up. He loved grabbing it when you bounced on his cock. He most definitely loved how you would grind against his crotch while dancing.

But this was something else. Looking at his handprint on your asscheck he felt a surge of possesiveness build inside him. No one had done this to you before. You were trusting him and being completely vulnerable in front of him.

He raised his hand, this time aiming for your left cheek. You cried and jumped in his lap.

“Two.”

He felt a wet spot on his jeans right between your legs. He couldn’t resist dipping his fingers in and tracing your lips, staying away from your clit. You had been a bad girl after all. He played with your pussy for a while before returning to the task at hand.

You were a shaking, moaning and crying mess for the next few slaps. His thigh drenched completely by your juices. You had tried to play with your tits in the middle of it but Steve swatted your hands away threatening to not give you your reward. So you were doing your best to take your punishment like a good girl.

“Come on, doll, just two more,” he tried to sooth you as spanked you again.

“Nine!” you screamed holding onto a throw pillow.

He stared at your swollen ass. You would have trouble sitting for the next few days. He looked at your glistening pussy. It looked so tempting.

Fuck it. You had been a good girl so far. Maybe he’d give you a teaser of your reward.

He dipped two fingers in your pussy and heard you sigh. He pumped his fingers a few times before bringing them to his lips and sucking on them. Making sure to be loud so you could hear him. You looked over your shoulder curiously and whimpered.

“Have patience. Just one more left, princess,” he cooed at you and stroked your ass getting it ready for the last blow.

Your mind was foggy but you felt your insides tingle at his nickname. No one had ever called you that unless it was an insult. You never thought you’d melt hearing it from a man’s mouth.

You felt his last hard slap on your ass and cried out loud enough for the whole building to hear.

“Ten," you said and smiled, your mind hazily.

He stroked your ass for some time before pulling you off of him and placing you on the sofa. He grabbed a pillow situating it under your hips to raise your ass. You probably didn’t have enough energy to keep up on your own. But there was no way he could wait now.

“You ready for your reward, princess?, he asked lining his cock upto your pussy.

You hummed and nodded. He lightly slapped your ass and you gasped, not expecting it. It felt absolutely lovely on your raw sensitive ass.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, yes, sir I am,” you replied, your voice faltering.

You felt him slowly push into you and groan as he bottomed out. He stayed in there for a few minutes to let you get use to it. But you will never really get used to how big his cock is or just how amazingly he used it to fuck you.

He started moving in slow torturous strokes. His pelvis rubbing against your ass deliciously.

“Stev... sir, harder please," you begged and stuck your ass up to get him even deeper in you.

“As you wish, doll," he groaned and picked up his pace, slamming into your pussy brutally.

You moaned and groaned and thrashed on the sofa. You didn’t know how long he fucked you, you lost all concept of time. You felt the all too familiar knot tightening in your belly and clenched around him.

“You gonna cum?” he asked, his brooklyn accent even more evident now. “Go ahead cum.”

You yelled and released all over him, falling onto the couch, completely fucked out.

His thrusts became erratic and unsteady he groaned and released in you until there was nothing left. You felt sleep come over you before you could say or do anything.

You jolted awake when you felt a cool liquid on you ass. You looked over and saw Steve massaging something on your ass.

He looked up at you and smiled. “Did I wake you?”

You hummed and laid your head on your pillow still feeling weak. “What is that?”

“It’s aloe vera I found it in your bathroom,” it was something that was part of your seven step beauty routine. “I read it will help with the swelling.”

You hummed again already half asleep.

“I read some other things too”, he said while massaging, “things we could try together”

“Oh?” you exclaimed and looked at him. He smiled and winked at you. You quickly turned around and buried your head in the pillow.

You had created a monster.

[recklessmark]

serendipity

he was the one i wasn't looking for —Nikki Rowe

—2:07am, 3rd december

you’ve just gotten out of work, exhausted. people always said choose the job that makes you happy, and you chose your job for the money. not to sound greedy but you would rather die in a mansion. so it’s not weird when you are waiting at the bus stop at 2am in the morning, a well-paid career requires more than you expected.

“do you have a lighter?”

you looked up from the ground to see a 5’9 man standing in front of you. you observed the stranger’s figures, you’re used to be outside this late so dealing with creeps is not a problem. but to be honest, this man looked handsome, he had something that radiates a childish energy. generally you would say that he’s fine as hell. he had a cigarette between his teeth, which made you assume that he was wanting to light up the cigarette.

you snapped out when he cocked an eyebrow at you, your hand dived in your bag to find the lighter. you do smoke, not regularly but sometimes it helps you relieve stress.

“here you are.”

the corner of his mouth curled up, the light of the small fire made his face brighten up, your heart unintentionally beated faster.

“thank you.”, he gave you back the lighter and then shifted to stand next to you.

“you smoke?”

you heard he asked, blowing the white smoke into the cold air of the snowy season and then it slowly vanished.

“yes, occasionally.”

he nods, “i know when people smoke.”

as if he could read your mind, many people around you do not know the fact that you smoke but a stranger you met 2 minutes ago can know it without you saying anything.

“i think it’s your bus.”

the transport slowly approached you, there’s only one bus active from 12am until the next morning.

“hey, we will meet again.”

the stanger gave you the last sentence before he walked away making you smile slightly. oh, you forgot to ask what his name was.

—5:20pm, 18th december

you almost tripped over while rushing to catch the last bus. you had a survey to do in the downtown, if you missed this bus you couldn’t go back to the city until the next day. fortunately, you were still quick enough to be the last passenger on the bus. while you were finding a seat for yourself, you saw a familiar man, you must have met him before but you’re clearly not a person who has a good memory. however this man is special enough to make that scene quickly flashed back in your mind, he was the stranger you met that day.

“hello, do you mind-?”

“oh hi, it’s you! alright you can sit here.”

the man moved to sit next to the window, left you a seat next to him.

“thank you.” you sit down and continued talking to him.

“did you cut your hair? i didn’t recognize you.”

he chuckles, “even my mom can barely recognize me.”

you don’t know if it’s considered a coincidence when you met him again, you didn’t complain though.

“oh, i forgot to ask you that day, what’s your name, i’m y/n.”

“i’m mark, mark lee.”

when you two had already arrived in the city, mark invited you to have dinner with him and who are you to refuse it? every second being with mark was pure joy, he told you funny stories which gave you a lot of serotonin. he’s definitely the finest man you have ever met in your life, well, you didn’t just fall for a man you only met two times throughout your whole entire lifetime, you didn’t.

“y/n, i think i should tell you this.”

“yes?”

“i’m moving to another town, for working.”

you could’t tell if you were sad, shocked or bitter but it’s complicated what you felt. it’s like somebody stole something from you, a precious thing.

“when?”

“tomorrow.”

that meant this was probably the last time you could see him. mark was a stranger after all but why did you care about him so much. before you two splitted in your directions, mark suggested to exchange numbers and you did, you genuinely wanted to keep in touch with this guy.

“hey, text me when you get home!”, mark hollered with a wide smile.

—7:54pm, 20th december

you‘d just gotten out of the shower, water running on the strands of your hair and dropping down to the floor. you quickly stepped towards the nightstand to find your phone when you heard the message ringtone.

|7:54pm| mark lee: hi, how are you doing? you didn’t text me :(

you bit your lips as the message popped up on your lockscreen, you almost forgot about mark.

|7:55pm| you: hi, i’ve been being busy lately, i’m so sorry

|7:55pm| mark lee: don’t be, you look prettier when you smile :) and take some rest tho, no need to tuck in those paperwork.

|7:56pm| mark lee: oh but i have something to tell you, i’ll come back to your town, for christmas break. can i take you out for a date on christmas?

you blinked at the text message, feeling butterflies in your stomach. he’s literally asking you out for a date, a date on christmas specifically. you do know some guys have a crush on you but you weren’t ready for commitment but mark, there’s something about this man that makes you want to go for him. you want mark in your life.

you didn’t notice that you were smiling until the screen of your phone went black, reflecting the obvious curl on your lips. you realized you had left mark on read for ages.

|7:59pm| you: sure! text me when you’re back!

|8:00pm| mark lee: okay, goodnight ❤️ *have a nice dream about me :)*

you flopped yourself on your bed, the moonlight dancing on your face. december, always be the best time of the year.

—11:16pm, 24th december

you’re walking along the pathway, it feels like the first time you enjoy your christmas night outside since you spent your time inside the apartment every year. mark is stepping slowly beside you, he gave you his scarf when you two got out of the restaurant, in case you’re getting cold. you inhale a deep breath, the fresh air mixes with the charming cologne of mark lights you up.

“i have something to show you.”

mark stops at his track, turns around to face you. you two are not alone, there are plenty of people walking pass you, some of them are delighted family. you look at him, your hand comes to catch his arm, pulling him to a bench beside the street.

“what is it?”, you ask softly.

you see his hand shoves inside the pocket of his jacket, taking out a small velvet box. you curiously wonder what’s inside when mark hands you the box.

it’s a platinum manacle. it’s curved with a word said ‘serendipity’ on the surface. mark takes the bracelet out of the box, his hand find yours, spreading some warm into your cold hand. and then he put the bracelet on your wrist, the metal sparkles in the darkness.

“gladly it fits you, i made it myself. the curving part was challenging, hopefully it doesn’t look to bad.”, he muses while tracing his thumb along the cuff.

“i love it.”

you words made mark raises his head up as his eyes meet your gaze. you give him a nonchalant smile.

“do you know what ‘serendipity’ means?”

mark asks quietly, his hand plays with your fingers.

“an unexpected luck, i don’t know but there’s one thing i know for certain-“, you intertwine your hand with his, “my serendipity is you, mark lee.”

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[ink-fireplace-coffee]

Short Story: Kiss me, for I am dying.

A/N: this story was crafted yesterday at midnight so I can't assure the quality of it at all. It is inspired in a theatre/legend we have here in Spain called Los Amantes de Teruel, or The Teruel Lovers in english. It's like the Spanish less known version of Romeo and Juliet.

Word count: 1901.

TW: mentions of death.

I don't have a general taglist or anything on the sort, but @nathandoesntknow asked me to tag them, so here you go! enjoy my midnight weird af inspiration I guess.

------

Five months ago, Jaime would've just left if he saw that on the rooftop of the campus was already someone.

Five months ago, if he had seen that stranger sitting there- feet dangling in the air and looking at the sunset- was Isa, he would’ve turned on his heels and left before she could even so much but noticed him.

Or maybe he would’ve “asked” (more like demanded) her to go somewhere else.

Jaime and Isa hated each other. Pure and simple.

Ever since the first day of university, when Isa had given him a “you are annoying” look after Jaime had accidentally hitted her backpack, launching all her stuff through the hall.

No matter how many times he had tried to convince her that it hadn’t been on purpose, she had said that it was his fault over and over again.

If that wasn’t enough, they had not only been forced to sit next to each other for their whole third year (since it was extremely rude to tame someone else’s seat after the first week of classes) but they also were constantly competing on the top of the class.

If Isa had a 95% on the midterm, Jaime had a 98%.

If Jaime had scored a 9,9 out of ten in that essay, Isa had gotten the full mark.

Everyone saw it as a nice academic competition, the kind that made you better every day and it was healthy. Sometimes it could also be mistaken for a nice banter, or even a bit of university drama.

Isa and Jaime saw it as a live or die battle where only one of them could succeed.

Spanish had been the only subject Jaime had ever been really good at, for as long as he could remember. His zeroes in maths had always mattered less next to his tens in Spanish.

When he had told his father that his dream was to become a spanish teacher, the old man had simply nodded and said “I was not expecting less”. And so, one entrance exam to Salamanca’s university later, Jaime knew he was starting to walk the path of his future.

But while his passions were words formation, syntax and how the language had developed into today’s form; Isa had decided to study the career for a whole different reason.

It was clear that she felt completely herself when discussing novels and authors. Her essays on every single topic were excellent quality (even Jaime had to admit it) and they always provided a new, fresh way of thinking.

And maybe that's why some months ago, whatever they had agreed on had taken place.

Now, when the morning classes had already finished, Isa was already on the rooftop, a book in hand and a notebook resting on her legs.

“You are late. Again.” She remarked when she saw Jaime’s blond hair.

“Some of us have life, Isabel.” he answered in the same cold tone and took a seat in front of her.

“Being the teacher’s pet is not having a life.” They both held each other's gazes for a while, until instead of intimidating, they were staring.

The wind whooshed, making the students snap back.

Jaime cleared his throat and Isa focused on her book .“What are we revising today?” asked him.

She tapped the pages of her notebook with a pen. “Los Amantes de Teruel. Spanish version of Romeo and Juliet, I believe. Since you haven't finished it, even though it was due yesterday.” Isa added, a sassy remark included in her voice.

Jaime rolled his eyes.

Lovers of Teruel.

It is true that he had been stuck for three months in a 170 pages novel. But there were far more interesting things to do than read how two fools felt in love only to die at the end.

“I would've finished it if I hand’t been busy correcting someone’s homework.'' He remarked, as he searched for his own copy of the book inside his backpack.

Isa just scoffed, and gave him another “you are annoying” look. Jaime had to make an effort not to smile.

“You know? I wonder if those death stares are unically for me, like a personalized stare.”

“Oh, right, because you are so important in my life that I decided to give you an specific look whenever you say or do something stupid.”

“I mean… You asked me for help that day, so I guess I must be somewhat important, dear Isa.”

“I asked you for help?” she repeated, astonished “You were roaming this rooftop for weeks until I got fed up with how creepy it looked and told you to help me with that assignment, which, for the record, was perfect.”

That was true. Her assignment had been flawless, but Jaime would rather die than to admit that out loud.

“Are you planning on finishing this book with me or do you want to keep talking?” He grinned then “I’m sure there are a ton of other things you could use your mouth for, but I’d like to be prepared for my exam next week.”

Her slight blush felt like a personal win. Until she stroke back, of course.

“One: that is extremely gross, and I don’t want to know about the weird fantasies you have with my mouth. And two: it’s your turn ‘Diego’, so read.”

Since there was no point in reading plays in silence and to themselves, at the beginning of the book (three months ago), Jaime and Isa had divided the roles, taking the two main characters with them: he as Diego and her as Isabel.

“You were practically born for this role” had joked Jaime and Isa wondered how far from the ground they were… and how hard she would have to shove him.

They read some scenes out loud, stopping to make some points on the narrative, paraphrase or make a summary of what they got so far. If it was true that individually they worked really well, as a team it was almost magical.

“Kiss me, for I am dying” said Jaime/Diego for the second time. Isabel had just rejected his lover, since she had already married and didn’t wish to deceive her now husband.

“And then Diego dies because he can’t bear the pain that causes him not being able to love Isabel.” the girl closed her book, and got up, stretching “It’s late, we should go before the campus closes.”

Jaime nodded and tagged alone, but stayed quiet the whole time until they were about to leave the university.

Then, just before partying ways, the question escaped his lips “Would you kiss me if my life depended on it.?”

Both of them looked equally surprised. When he didn’t add anything else, Isa understood he was waiting for an answer.

Well, what do you answer when someone asks that without a warning?

If there’s one thing Isa had clear was that Jaime and her weren’t friends. They weren’t even study buddies! They were just two students of the same class who happened to help each other out every now and then…

And for what?

“Let’s be glad that it doesn't.” she finally said, and turned away, wanting to run as quickly as her legs could carry her.

Would you kiss me if my life depended on it?. Two college students were replaying the same question over and over in their heads. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Isa didn’t have the guts to go back to the rooftop in the next few weeks. Since Jaime had handed in his essay on the novel, she had assumed he had finished it on his own.

That was good, right?

Now, both of them averted their eyes, and tried really hard not to cross paths.

What had been Jaime thinking when he asked that?! Oh right, he had been not thinking at all!

Still, not knowing the answer to the damn question was getting on his nerves. Not that he desperately wanted Isa to kiss him, that could never happen but…

Hypothetically he wanted to know.

Two weeks before finals, they both bumped into each other at the rooftop. Seeing Jaime’s figure -his back to her and his face to the orange sun-, made Isa stop on her tracks.

The door slammed closed and the guy turned around.

Awkwardness was all over the place.

“The library is super crowded and-” started to explain her. He nodded.

“I know, that’s why I’m here.”

A few minutes of silence and then:

“You finished the play.” commented Isa.

“Yeah, I did” Jaime rubbed his neck, nervous “Thanks for sharing your notes, by the way. They were really helpful.”

“Oh, um, no problem.”

“And, about that question…”

“It 's okay! You don’t have to explain anything.”

“No, really, I don’t know how it happened.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need to apologize, really.”

More silence in between them.

“I can go if you want me to.” offered then Jaime. She lifted up her gaze at him.

“The rooftop is big enough for the two of us, and I know you don't like studying at the library.”

Isa had been thinking about how much she noticed about Jaime without actually wanting to: his likes and dislikes, how he frowned slightly when there was a concept he was not following, his happy smiles whenever there was something he was pleased about…

He was grinning like that now.

“Earth calling Isa, are you there?” She blinked a few times.

“Yeah, totally. Here. Present.”

Jaime decided it was now or never.

He lifted up his hand, the one holding the book and showed it to her. "We never finished reading."

"You handed in your essay already. Why would we finish reading it?"

Clearly none of this was working. The guy slided his backpack on his shoulder. "I should go, Alejandro needs me for this book analysis-" he rambled.

"Go" Isa nodded and then smiled. "Teacher 's pet."

He just laughed awkwardly and headed out.

Isa had hated every single second of that conversation. Even if it's true they never had a friendly relationship, they had somewhat grown closer along the few months they had tutored each other.

What did Jaime really mean to her? He was insufferable sometimes, that's true. Arrogant in class and a stupid know-it-all…

But he was also brilliant. And he was kinder than he wanted to show: he had given her his jacket to go home when it was raining once; and even shared his notes with her when she had been sick.

The girl ran downstairs.

Jaime was about to go inside the teacher's office when she finally got to him. In a final effort after her sprint, she tried grabbing his arm.

The guy turned around, really surprised.

"Isa, what-"

"Ask me again." she demanded.

"What?"

"Ask. Me. Again" Isa pleaded out of breath. Her courage would flee anytime soon and then-

"Bésame, que me muero." he whispered.

Kiss me, for I'm dying.

Their lips touched.

"Do you like this ending better?" she asked after the kiss, a sly smile already forming.

He tipped his head back and laughed "Much better."

In Spain whenever someone mentions Lovers of Teruel, we have a saying that sort of finishes the sentence: stupid her and stupid him. Since they both die foolishly.

Luckily, we can assure that the sentence does not apply to Jaime nor Isa.

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track nine

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Eden arrived in New York in the biggest coat she could find in a store in Los Angeles, which came equipped with a furry hood and enough stuffing in it to make her resemble the michelin man when she climbed into the car. 

She leaned back against the headrest of the seat with a sigh, an iced coffee in each hand. Her eyes closed for a minute, like she was trying to find her inner peace, and then she sat up and passed a cup to Indy in the driver’s seat.

“Vanilla, oatmilk right?”

“Always,” Indy laughed, taking a sip before putting it in the cupholder. “So uh, I love you and all, but are you finally gonna tell me why you changed your flight and made it so much earlier?”

“Drive to your place, and I’ll explain.”

Eden waited until she got out of the majority of the traffic.

“So, I had my original ticket and I was just gonna rent a car and show up, you know this, we planned it. But then I had the brilliant idea to come early and kidnap you,” she grinned, sipping her coffee.

“You’re kidnapping me?”

“Kinda. Well, reverse kidnapping I guess cause I’m forcing you to host me. You told the boys you were Christmas shopping like I said right? So you’re clear for a few hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Well good, cause we’re having a girls moment, because you need me.”

“I need you?” Indy laughed. She could never imagine possessing the confidence that Eden manifested every day, but she hoped one day she could have a fraction of it. 

“Yeah, because you’re surrounded by Dolan twins, not Dolan twins girlfriends. And I’m sure neither of them have shut the fuck up about everything going on, right?”

Indy sighed, which Eden took as a yes. The two had been talking more and more, but especially since the absolute blow up on social media. Eden had been the first one to text her that day with a simple message.

Been there, I know how much it sucks but it’ll pass. Call me later when you’re up for it

Indy hadn’t called. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want Eden to think she was weak. Instead she’d gone onto Eden’s instagram, tried to see how she handled things, and from the first few scrolls on her feed it was blatantly obvious that she didn’t give a shit. Just a few weeks prior she’d posted a picture of her and Ethan in the mirror dressed up for a date, his hand fully grabbing her ass with the caption miss you bby. Indy scrolled the comments, blood boiling at some of the shit people said to her. She wondered if she’d ever get to the point where she could even stand to reopen her own instagram, much less post with reckless abandon. 

“We love men who think they know what it’s like to be a woman,” she teased, shaking her head as they continued down the road. “They’ve got such a protection complex, both of them, but Gray especially. Don’t get me wrong, I love it most of the time. Actually, it’s kinda hot. But holy shit does it get annoying when they underestimate you.”

Indy had experienced it first hand in the last week, and she couldn’t disagree. It was like she was on lockdown. Gone were the days of Grayson meeting her in the lobby of the building, or waiting for her outside of Jets. When he came to her apartment he was in sunglasses and a beanie, sometimes even a scarf pulled up over his mouth in an attempt to hide from any cameras he couldn’t see. He relaxed marginally when he got inside, but the only time he really seemed to catch his breath was when the sun set and they were tangled in each other’s arms, or when they were off the interstate on the back roads to Jersey. His shoulders would sink a bit, and his grip on her hand would relax when they took the exit. Something about the trees, still coated in snow, made him feel safer, made him feel like he could protect her somehow. 

It felt like a breath of fresh air to walk into her lobby with someone by her side. There were no cameras, but Eden wouldn’t have cared even if there was. She held her hand and walked in as if she’d done it a thousand times, though she had to wait for Indy to hit the right elevator button. 

When they got inside the apartment, Eden plopped herself down on the couch with a smile and patted the cushion beside her. 

“Alright, spill. Give me all the details, how’s it been going?”

Indy started to talk, and then she couldn’t stop. It spilled out of her like water, every single thing that had happened since her graduation date. Eden listened intently to each detail, from the way they’d changed their walking path to the hospital to the fact that he was looking into a new paint job for the truck to make it less recognizable. 

“And he’s just so paranoid, and I mean I guess I am too in a way, cause I like my privacy too. But it’s like he thinks I’ll die if a picture of me gets out or something, like damn, I’m a little sensitive sometimes but I’m not that fucking fragile.”

“You should have seen Ethan when the pregnancy rumors started for me. One big lunch at Monty’s later and all of a sudden I’m 3 months pregnant and I don’t know which twin’s it is,” she rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee through her straw with a smile.

“No fucking way.”

“I thought he was going to actually murder the dude from Hollywood Fix for that one. We burned through two Relax candles that week. Wild.”

“Jesus christ.”

“But hey, you already got the engagement rumor out of the way, so pregnancy is probably next. To be safe though, never even look in the window of a wedding dress store, and definitely don’t go to the baby section anywhere.”

Eden said it all so casually, as if making sure to avert your eyes from a wedding dress in a window was a totally normal thing to do. Indiana’s breathing picked up at her words, afraid that somehow she’d accidentally start a rumor about herself that would come back to bite Grayson.

“Isn’t that exhausting though? Being worried about that shit all the time?”

“You get used to it, and you adapt. Like the topaz ring for Lisa. That’s from Ethan and Grayson together, but they decided to send Gray in because if Ethan got spotted in a ring shop there would be an article about our secret wedding on DailyMail next week. Of course, that plan didn’t work out for Gray so well either, as we now know. Why the fuck he didn’t think about that is beyond me, but whatever,” she laughed. 

“No one was supposed to know about me,” Indy said, and her words didn’t resonate until they hung in the air. Was that what it was? The sudden shift in him being so damn worried about someone possibly seeing them together? It made her palms sweaty and she rubbed them on her pants before she spoke again.

“When did Ethan get over it?”

Eden scoffed. “He’s not over it. Still makes him want to lose his mind when someone says some shit about me. He broke a knuckle last year punching a wall cause a news outlet got pictures of me in a bikini while we were in Hawaii and said I’d gained weight.”

“That’s… absolutely fucked Eden, I’m fucking sorry.”

“I put it on my instagram story and laughed it off.” She shrugged her shoulders, as most women do when they have to accept unsolicited opinions from strangers. But something about the confidence she exuded when she said it made Indy believe that, somehow, she really had just brushed it off for the most part. 

“Is it hard to do that? Laugh it off?”

“Sometimes.” She sat up, getting more serious as she looked at Indiana. “But here’s the thing babes. Someone is sitting in an office somewhere, probably in their little house, with a bunch of clutter on their desk writing shitty articles about me. Meanwhile, I’m living in a nice ass house in LA with my hot ass boyfriend who bought me that bikini and took me to Hawaii. So who's actually winning?

“People talk shit about you when they wish they were you, that’s just how the world works. It’s shit, but once you accept that it changes your perspective on a lot of things. I mean honestly Indy, who gives a fuck what dolantea with 7 a’s the end has to say on instagram when you have Grayson fucking Dolan in your bed every night?” She raised her eyebrows, happy to see the smile she got out of Indy. “And if you ever tell him I said that I’ll put Nair in your shampoo.”

“My lips are sealed,” Indy teased, suddenly filled with a boost of confidence. “You have a very interesting perspective on the world Eden, I like it.”

“Coming from the college grad, I take that as a major compliment.”

“Believe me, there’s plenty of dumb people with college degrees. Doesn’t mean much at the end of the day.”

“But it gets you into a career that means something,” she mused. “I mean, being a doctor is a big deal, you’ll help a lot of people.”

Indy chewed on her lip. Every intrusive thought she’d had in the last few days that didn’t revolve around Twitter had to do with her imagining herself as a doctor, but it always faded into something else. It was her at a patient’s bedside, her helping them get to their feet, her sending them home with their family. Things that nurses did, not doctors. 

“Yeah. I hope so,” was all she could say. 

“That wasn’t very Indy of you.”

She quirked an eyebrow at Eden and waited for an explanation.

“You always keep a convo going, and you let that one drop, which means you probably don’t want to talk about it. But I’ll listen if you want to get it off your chest.”

“I don’t know… it’s just. The more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe being a doctor isn’t exactly what I thought it would be.”

“Oh. Well, then don’t be a doctor.”

It was Indy’s turn to scoff. “It’s not that simple Eden.”

“Isn’t it though?”

Indiana couldn’t come up with an answer. So instead, after the silence became too much, she deflected, making Eden walk her through the plans for the day.

A few hours later, once they’d gotten ready, they headed out to Jersey for the early birthday surprise, which Lisa was in on. She had ordered a massive vegan cake from one of the bakeries in New York that Indy picked up on the way, making Eden hold it for the majority of the ride. But when they got to the start of the driveway, she pulled over and had her counterpart climb into the trunk of the SUV, sticking a shiny blue gift bow on top of her head while she held one hand on the cake box to keep it steady.

Grayson appeared on the porch at the sound of the gravel crunching, cocking his head to the side when he noticed that Indy was backing in. He jogged up to the window when she put it in park, waiting for her to roll it down so he could lean in to kiss her. She hummed and smiled at him.

“Happy Birthday.”

“It’d be happier if you were out here,” he mused, leaning back to pull on the door handle, frowning when he realized it was still locked. 

“Go get Ethan for me, tell him I need help getting the cake out of the trunk.”

Grayson turned to do as she asked before he did a double-take at the very cake shaped box in the passenger seat.

“But…”

Indy repeated her sentence with a tight smile, but he still just frowned.

“Is that not the cake? Mom let it slip that she ordered one, I can just get it, cause Ethan is grumpy.”

“BITCH JUST GO GET HIM.”

Eden’s yell was so loud that Grayson jumped, putting a protective hand on Indy’s shoulder, though he didn’t know what he was protecting her from until he peeked into the car.

“Oh thank god,” he laughed at the sight of her, half hidden by the back row of seats. “He’s been moping for like three days!”

“Oh believe me, I know. Now go get him, I’m getting a fucking leg cramp back here.” 

Gray grinned, already feeling his brother’s happiness somehow as he bounded into the house, yelling incessantly until Ethan finally came trudging down the stairs, muttering profanities as he stepped out into the New Jersey cold.

“Bro, be nice, Indy worked really hard to make this birthday nice for both of us, even if Eden couldn’t be here. Just help me carry the cake,” Grayson said, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

Ethan took a deep breath and nodded.

“Dee, open the trunk babe!” Gray called, having to turn away to hide his grin. But he looked back quickly, not wanting to miss his brother’s face when the door lifted and revealed his girlfriend, sitting adorably with a bow on her head. 

Ethan just stared for a moment, mouth hanging open so wide that it made Indy laugh as she watched in the rear view mirror.

“You little shit!” He finally said, closing the distance and pulling her into his arms and out of the car, spinning her around for a moment before peppering kisses all over her face. It was like he couldn’t let go. Every time he went to pull back he caught sight of her face again and pulled her back against him until they were both shivering out in the cold, wind whipping at their exposed hands and ankles.

Grayson helped Indy out of the car, warming her lips with a welcoming kiss before they moved to unpack the car, letting the lovebirds have their moment. Lisa greeted her as soon as she made it in the door and sat the gifts down, her hair smelling like she’d just put on hairspray. Eden and Ethan trailed in moments later hand in hand, with Ethan yelling about how Li had been in on it the whole time.

In terms of birthdays, it was a chilled out evening. The twins birthday used to be a huge event, full of laughter and excitement. Now, there was a blanket over the scene, a silent understanding that one person was missing from the table - one who should have been a year older just a few days prior. But they made the most of their time together, eating the cake first gathered around the table before moving into the living room and starting on presents. 

Grayson kept a hand on Indy’s knee unless he was unwrapping, looking over at her with a warm smile any time that he could. Lisa’s gifts were first - new sweaters, Ethan’s red and Grayson’s green, a bottle of shampoo each, specific to their hair texture. They gave each other such an incredulous look that Eden and Indy couldn’t help but laugh, only growing louder when Lisa leaned over to smack their heads lightly. They got individual gifts too - a new helmet for Ethan for his longboarding trips and a nice drill that Grayson had asked for. They both stood up to kiss her cheek in thanks before they settled back down to open gifts.

Indy was let in on the tradition that Ethan always opened first because he was older, and she was more than happy to lean on Grayson and watch his brother open his gifts. He started with Eden’s, eyebrows shooting up when he pulled out an odd arrangement of things. A bottle of sparkling cider, sunscreen and a pair of swim trunks that were adorned with a pattern made of a picture of Gizmo. He checked the bag for anything else before looking back at Eden and waiting.

“Read the bottle.”

He held it up to his face, reading aloud. “Passionfruit Cider. Made and bottled on Maui. Oh shit. Oh SHIT! Are we going back to Maui?”

“We’re going in March cause that’s the only time when I could put two weeks together where we both don’t have work.”

Indy sunk down even further despite already being on the floor while they celebrated. She looked at the tiny box she’d brought for him, wanting to reach out and hide it behind her back.  

She didn’t get the chance to, because Ethan had already grabbed it, reading the tag. 

“Indiana you didn’t need to get me anything,” he said, and his sincerity made her feel a fraction better.

“Well, it’s no trip to Hawaii, so don’t get too excited. And your mom helped.”

He unwrapped the box carefully, opening the lid and staring down for a moment. 

“It’s a key,” he murmured, reaching in and pulling out the necklace, a silver key which sat on a matching chain horizontally.

“It’s a copy of the key to your house here, but as a necklace. I know you really miss home while you’re gone, and you wear necklaces sometimes, so I thought I could make you a little reminder.”

“You made this?” He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah! It’s not much, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it's perfect Inds. Seriously, I love it, thank you so much.” 

Indy blushed anyways, not really believing his words but trying to accept them as he leaned over to hug her, grateful for the change of subject when it was announced that it was Grayson’s turn. 

He started with Eden’s, smiling wide at the tool belt that he pulled out, yelling when he realized it was customized with his name on the side.

“You can use that to build that side table you keep telling me you’re gonna make me,” Eden teased, which devolved into a moment of playful bickering. Indy used the time to line up the boxes in the right order, biting her lip when she handed him the first one.

“That’s way too many gifts,” Grayson said, frowning at her a bit.

“It’s really just one, it’s like a - well they go together - just, just open it.”

He did as she asked, pulling the paper off and unboxing the first one.

“A fucking nutcracker! Fuck yes!” He yelled, starting to look at it a bit closer. “Wait. WAIT. Is this Cudi?” 

“What!?” Ethan piped up before Indy could even answer.

“Bro it looks like Man On The Moon End of The Day cover, look at the fucking colors, and the moon.” He pointed to specific parts on the body of the doll, showing his brother who leaned over his shoulder.

“Open the next one,” Indy laughed, passing him the box.

He was quicker with that one, yelling so loud that Gizmo started to yell in the kitchen as he recognized the album art from Man On The Moon II, all tans, blacks and stars. 

“Holy fucking shit these are so fucking cool! Give me the next one, holy fuck.”

Indy passed them along, laughing when each reaction was just as dramatic as the first. The Indicudi was Indy’s favorite, with the mixture of reds and oranges. The collection started to take shape as he sat them out next to one another, adding the simplistic Satellite Flight nutcracker next, followed by the neutrals of Speedin’ Bullet 2 Heaven. Passion Pain and Demon Slayin’ matched well with the bright colors of Man On The Moon III, and Grayson was so excited by the end of the six that he had to stand up and run a lap before he came back and pulled Indy to her feet. 

“You like them?”

“You got me Cudi’s discography in fucking nutcracker form. I fucking love it, and I fucking love you.” He kissed her like no one was in the room, her heartbeat so loud in her ears that she didn’t even hear Lisa’s ‘awe’ from behind them.  

“I love you too,” she murmured against him, letting him hold her for a minute before he dropped back down to his knees to look at the collection, dissecting every detail like a six year old with a brand new toy. 

Ethan was just as enthralled, and she wished she could be as chilled out as Eden seemed as she sat and watched them. But instead, she was running numbers in her head, trying to calculate how much a trip to Maui for two would cost with airfare and lodging put together. 

She’d thought she’d gone overboard with the $300 collection of nutcrackers. For her, it was anyways - she’d timed her showers for two weeks and left them lukewarm in an attempt to save some money on her utility bill to justify it. Her mind spun for a moment as she thought about the little stack of Christmas presents hidden under her bed. A sweater for Lisa, a roll of film for Charlie to go with the new camera Dev was buying her. Fuzzy socks and a candle each for Eden and Cam that she’d found on a good sale. The thought of them sitting next to big extravagant gifts she was sure would arrive on the 25th made her deflate, so much that Grayson sensed it enough to pull himself away from his new toys.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I’m here,” she said, giving him a smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was have him worried about her on a day that was supposed to be about him. He returned one in hopes it would lighten her mood, but he knew not to push it. In fact, he didn’t bring it up until they were back at Indy’s apartment, in their pajamas after eating extra cake that Lisa had sent home with them. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” Indy asked, tracing H-A-P-P-Y-B-D-A-Y on his chest.

“I did. Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it was good. But today was for you, it doesn’t really matter what kind of day I had.”

“It always matters what kind of day you had,” he countered. “You seemed kinda upset when we were giving presents.” 

“Oh, yeah, it was no big deal. I just didn’t feel like I got you guys enough stuff. 21 is a big birthday.”

He leaned back enough so he could see her face, frowning down at her. 

“First off, it’s only a big birthday because you can drink, which doesn’t matter to me. Second, you gave us both more than enough, I have no idea why you think that.”

“Eden got Ethan a trip to fucking Maui.”

“And?”

“I got him a key. On a chain.” 

“Which is probably the most thoughtful gift he’s gotten in a really long time.” 

“It cost $20.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you can buy people whatever you want.”

“We’re just in different life stages,” he said. “You’ll be making bank once you’re out of school, you just have to get to that point. And even then, it doesn’t matter what you buy people for gifts. They only care that you’re there with them.”

Indy resisted the urge to repeat her words back to him again. She didn’t really expect him to understand where she was coming from.

“Yeah, I hope so.” She ran her hands down over his ribs under the covers, smiling when she felt him sigh under her. “By the time I pay off my loans Ethan and Eden will probably have three kids, you’ll have to spot us for all the baby shower presents.”

It was Grayson’s turn to fall quiet. He could see it - see Indy in a little pink sundress out in their LA backyard, celebrating a new baby on the way, talking with Eden and Lisa, helping Adele organize tables. And he wanted it. But he held her in his arms and thought about all that would come for her before that time came, and his heart tightened in his chest when he realized that he wouldn’t be there to see it.

“Tell me about school.”

She sat up a bit, running her hands through his hair.

“That’s what you wanna do with the last hour of your birthday? Hear about school?” 

“Yeah. Just wanna hear you talking to me,” he said, ignoring the tightness in his throat. 

She did as he asked, talked about the classes she had left and what order she’d have to take them in, the application process, the in’s and out’s of medical school as he tried to memorize every inflection of her voice, her laugh, and the feeling of her pressed up against him. 

When they woke up, it seemed that the holiday season had fully taken hold overnight. Suddenly, the days were flying by in blurs of Christmas lights and shopping. The pair were together 24/7, attached at the hip every moment that they could get away with. When Grayson was recording the podcast, Indy was just out of sight on the floor listening. While Indy was clearing out her laptop from the semester, Grayson was sitting behind her on the bed braiding her hair. Before they knew it they were trying to fit Bekah’s presents, and the cookies they made for the nurses into an already packed backseat of the truck on Christmas Eve.

A blanket of snow still rested in the city, muffling the city sounds it seemed as they drove. They were bundled up enough that Grayson wasn’t worried about them being recognized in the short walk to the hospital, and they shed their layers once they were inside the warm walls. They took the elevator, not minding the slow climb up to Bekah’s floor. But when they got to the desk to sign in, the nurses looked weary. Indy chucked it up to having to work the holiday and hoped that the cookies would lift their spirits when she left them on the counter. 

Bekah’s room had a small tree in the corner, covered in colorful lights and generic silver and red ornaments that were identical to those in every other room of the hospital. Bekah hardly reacted when she saw the duo enter in, though she tried. She sat up as much as she could but ended up back flat on her bed. 

“Hey Beks, hold on, let me help.” Indy rushed over to her side, fumbling for the buttons to raise the back of her bed up so she could sit up and see the room. Grayson held up her stack of presents with his biggest smile, the one Indy loved where he would clench his teeth. Bekah lit up, grinning wide at the two of them. Her skin was pale, and they could tell that she’d lost weight, but her smile was just the same. 

“Earrings, you double as Santa on the weekends or something? They already give the sick kids pity presents, you didn’t have to go so hard.” 

“These are from Indy actually,” Grayson said. Indy bit her tongue. She’d picked them out, but Grayson had footed the bill.

“They’re from both of us,” she corrected. “You feel good enough to open them now?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” 

And she was good. But she wasn’t great. Just unwrapping the boxes seemed to zap out the small energy store she had left. Indy wished she’d had the foresight to package them in bags instead of boxes, make it a bit easier for her to open. But the excitement was enough for her to make it through opening the new Christmas blanket, which was covered in cats and dogs in festive sweaters, a Harry Styles crewneck and new fuzzy socks. The last box was an Among Us shirt, with a little purple crewmate peeking out of the pocket - Bekah was notorious for how many hours she spent playing (Gray and Indy would sometimes hop on and play a few games with her when they weren’t there). 

“You guys are the best,” she said, letting the pile of presents rest on her bed. She yawned, so hard she leaned back and her beanie slipped off her smooth head. Grayson watched as she reached for it and winced, and suddenly he was watching his dad there in the bed, trying to get to his phone on the bedside table, wincing in pain. His breath caught in his chest and he blinked hard, trying to come back to reality.

And then Bekah closed her eyes, and laid perfectly still. It was quiet in the room for a moment, and a wave of nausea rose in Grayson, so strong that he raised his hand up to his mouth.

“Beks?” He choked out.

“She’s okay, she’s okay.” Indy rushed to reassurances. “Look, look at her monitor.”

The blips on the heart monitor line meant much more to Indy than they did to Grayson, but he recognized them enough to catch his breath.

“Sometimes, when someone is exhausted like that, they lapse in consciousness for a little while. It’s a defense mechanism, she’s okay.”

“For a second I thought - fuck,” he huffed, running his hand over his face. Indy moved beside him, taking his hand in hers and kissing his knuckles one by one.

“What the fuck.”

They both turned to the bed, where Bekah’s eyes were open again. But they were unfamiliar somehow, none of that usual Bekah charm that warmed the dark pools of brown in sight. 

“Bekah-” Indy tried, but she was cut off.

“You two are dating? Seriously? What is this, community service date night?”

“Beks-” Grayson spoke up.

“I never ask for much, but fuck you two. Fuck you.”

“Bekah, hey.” Indy took a step towards her bed, and Bekah recoiled.

“I try. I try really fucking hard not to think about how fucked up and shitty my life is. I’m 15, and I’m dying. I’m never gonna go back to school. No prom, no graduation, no wedding. Not even a fucking boyfriend before I die and everyone forgets me. The least you could do is not rub it in my fucking face.” 

“Bekah, you can’t think like that. You’re gonna get better, you’re gonna get all those things,” Grayson said, blinking through the tears that had formed without warning in his eyes. They fell down his cheeks in uneven droplets, hot and unfamiliar. 

“Yeah? Just like Emma was gonna get better right? Well, her funeral was last week. She’s never going to play hide and seek again, much less anything else. What about Damion from my last radiation rotation hmm? God was gonna come down and heal him too right? Then why is he dead, huh? Where’s God in all this? Where’s my fucking happy ending? I’m gonna get the inside of a box, that’s what I’m gonna get, and no one will fucking admit it because I’m a kid, and I’m supposed to be here longer than this! I’m supposed to have more time! I’m supposed to get to do stupid shit in college, and grow up, and find my person but no. I’m never going to get those things, so fuck you both for throwing it in my face.”

“Bekah-” Indy’s voice broke on the word.

“Get out. Both of you, out.”

“Bekah please.”

“OUT!”

Her yell was loud enough to alert a passing nurse in the hallway, and she stepped inside.

“You two need to step out of the room please.”

The sobs didn’t take hold until they were in the hallway. They ripped out of Indy without warning or grace, and Grayson did all he could to hold her pieces together as she started to shatter. 

“Shhh, Dee, hey, it’s okay, let’s go outside,” Grayson tried to comfort her through his own tears, leading her towards the doors.

A hand caught his shoulder and he turned his head to see Jessica in her scrubs, coming out of another patient’s room.

“What did she say?”

Indy perked up from where her face had been buried. 

“What did Bekah say?” She asked again

“She’s agitated, talking about how her life is being cut short, how she’s dying. She told us to leave.”

Jessica sighed, looking down at her shoes. 

“We’re on our last resort. A final round of chemo and radiation. If this doesn’t work, we’re out of options. And it’s going to be brutal, it’s spread to her brain. You’ll have to be patient with her, she’s probably going to go through some personality shifts. She’ll be more emotional, more irritable. Sometimes she might be disoriented. This type of cancer, when it’s in the brain, it’s unpredictable. One minute she could be fine, the next she could be completely unrecognizable. Give her a few days, wait until after the holidays when everything is back to routine, and give it another try okay? Hopefully it’s better when things are a bit more normal.”

“Yeah,” Indy sniffled. Jessica put a hand on her shoulder.

“Indiana her face lights up when you two walk in that room. She talks about you guys non stop when you aren’t here. She’ll come around from whatever it was, okay? Just give her some time. We’ll be here to take care of her, don’t you worry.”

Indy wasn’t sure why, but she pulled Jessica into a hug. The woman was surprised, but she reciprocated anyways with a squeeze. 

“Sweet girl. It’ll be okay,” she murmured, which only made the tears flow even more when she let go. 

Indiana transferred from one set of arms to the other, back into Grayson’s strong grip which only loosened when he pressed the button for the doors. When they made it to the ocean hallway, it all hit at once, and her legs gave out. She caught herself on the support bars as Grayson lowered her to the ground. They came in waves that she couldn’t control, not for want of trying. 

“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stuttered, trying to force air into her lungs. Someone down the hall pulled a door closed quietly. 

“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay. Breathe baby, just breathe,” Grayson murmured, running his thumbs under her eyes to try and wipe her mascara, which was running down her red cheeks in dark streaks. He waited until she was able to take a few solid breaths before he spoke again. 

“C’mon, let’s go to Jersey. I’ll take you to Jersey.” 

She put most of her weight on him while they took the stairs out into the cold streets. It had begun to snow again, and the cold only added to the stinging in her eyes as he led her to the truck. She wondered in that moment how many times he’d had to hold her together, and her stomach twisted in guilt for a moment at the thought. Even still, she huddled into Grayson until he opened her door for her, immediately moving over as close to him as she could, pushing the middle console up to make it a bench seat and scooting to the middle when he climbed in.

His Dad had once told him it was important to be a confident one handed driver - you never knew what you’d have to hold in your passenger seat, he’d said. At the time, he was referring to the four large pizzas that ended up leaving a permanent grease mark in his jeep seat. But Grayson was thankful for the advice as he maneuvered the car out of the spot and out of the parking garage with an arm still around his girl.

The roads were quiet, and he questioned it until he remembered that it was in fact Christmas Eve. He slowed down when they got to the Jersey neighborhoods, looked at all the lights, all the families he could see in the windows, huddled around their bright trees. He could remember those nights like they were yesterday, him and Ethan sneaking to the top of the stairs to try to catch a glimpse at the big man with the red sack. When they were five they’d seen him and ran to wake their sister. They’d all watched in amazement as he placed presents under the tree and ate the cookies they’d left.

He’d found the santa suit in a box in his dad’s closet when they went through his things after his funeral. 

“Does your family have any Christmas traditions?” He asked quietly, running his arm quickly over Indiana’s arm in a bid to keep her warm as he drove. The cool wind that was whipping the snow around seemed to be outrunning the heater in the truck. 

“We did. We would watch Elf the night before, cause it was mom’s favorite. We did the cookies, the stockings, all that stuff too. But we always had grilled cheese and soup for dinner too.”

“Grilled cheese and soup?”

“Yeah. That was mom’s idea too. She always said we could leave extra room for a good Christmas morning breakfast if we ate grilled cheese and soup. So we always ended up in the living room with our plates and bowls and Christmas PJs watching elf. Turns out, warm soup was always her trick to get us to go to sleep early. Made me and Charlie tired I guess. She told me it worked like a charm every time. What do the Dolan’s do?”

“Ours is more Christmas morning. We do the whole giant breakfast thing. We open stockings first, and Santa presents, then we do breakfast and then we do the rest of the presents. Used to drive us crazy when we were little, cause all the presents would just be waiting for us. But Mom said it was so we were grateful for our food too, cause it was a gift that we had it on our table at all.” 

“Li is a good mom,” Indy sighed, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her eyes were tired, the kind where your eyelids feel like they weigh ten pounds a piece, but she fought with them and won, still awake when they made it to the house. She hopped out and moved to the backseat, but Grayson caught her.

“I’ll carry the stuff in. Go get cleaned up, take a hot shower and relax. Mom will be worried, she always knows when someone has been crying, it’s like a sixth fucking sense.” 

For once, Indy didn’t argue. Instead, she went in the house as quietly as she could, grateful that even Gizmo didn’t seem to note her arrival. She snuck up the stairs to Grayson’s closet, grabbing an old thick flannel and a sports bra that she’d left, plus some sweatpants, considering she’d left her bag in the truck.

She had never been so thankful for a shower. She lost track of how long she let the warm water wash over her head, closing her eyes and focusing on the feeling of the stream against her skin. It was peaceful, but surreal in a way. She thought about where she’d imagined herself on Christmas Eve night at the beginning of the year, and it looked so vastly different than where she was, on the cold tiles of a New Jersey shower with her boyfriend carrying in gifts downstairs. The thought of him waiting for her gave her enough motivation to get cleaned up, though she had to resort to using Grayson’s shampoo and bodywash, which was an unlabeled Wakeheart sample he’d been testing out it seemed. It smelled fresh, with a vanilla mixture that was reminiscent of Jet’s.

Indiana was in higher spirits when she sauntered down the stairs, and her heart swelled a few sizes when she heard a familiar song in the background - the title screen of Elf, waiting on the TV in the living room. She checked rooms until she found Grayson, standing in front of the stove with two pots and a skillet going. She didn’t have to ask. Instead, she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. 

He spun around, spatula in hand until they were chest to chest as he watched the stove over her head, holding her close to make sure she didn’t get burnt. He nuzzled into her wet hair, and then sniffed harder.

“You smell like me,” he noted.

“Had to use your stuff. I like that body wash though, which one is that?”

“Can’t remember. Let me see.” He reached around and caught her arm, smelling her skin.

“Ah. That’s Polis.” 

She looked up at him. 

“Polis? Like… Poland?”

He chuckled against her, flipping over a grilled cheese.

“Polis as in the end of Indianapolis. A smell that makes you seem put together and professional with a sweet note at the end. Vanilla. Like your lattes.”

As he often seemed to, he rendered her speechless enough that all she could do was press a kiss to his chest and wrap her arms around him, under his sweatshirt to trace on his back.

L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

He kissed the top of her head and stirred the soup. 

Ten minutes later and they were cozied up on a makeshift palette on the floor under a few blankets, with soup and sandwiches in hand. Grayson had made himself three vegan grilled cheese and tomato soup, and caved and given Indy the last can of chicken noodle in the cabinet because he knew it was her favorite even if it wasn’t vegan, though her grilled cheese was vegan as well. They watched Elf play, laughing and noting all the familiar NY scenery. Indy swore the man in the red jumpsuit had come into Jet’s before. They sipped their soup out of the bowl, and Indy listened to Grayson talk about the cinematography, trying to follow all that he was saying. 

Once the bowls and plates were sat aside, they found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms, and Nicole’s old trick seemed to work, considering Indy was asleep before the end credits. Grayson carried her upstairs and put her to bed before going back down to clean up.

Though he tried to get into bed without waking her up again, he didn’t quite manage it, his weight moving the mattress just enough for her to stir and open her eyes. 

“Sorry baby, it’s just me. You fell asleep.”

“Hmmm. C’mere,” she murmured, opening up her arms. He laughed, knowing that if he laid on her the way she was asking that he’d press all the air out of her lungs. Instead, he pulled her on top of him and slotted their legs together, revealing in the feeling of their skin pressed together. She was warm for once since she’d been under the covers, and he hoped his fingers weren’t cold as he began to trace patterns against her back. 

“I love you,” she hummed, tracing a swirl over his ribs lazily.

“I love you too.”

“Forever.”

“Hmm?” He asked.

“I’m going to love you forever. I can feel it. I’m yours forever Grayson Dolan, and don’t you forget it.”

He pressed a kiss to her head and felt her finger against his ribs. F-O-R-E-V-E-R.

“I’ll love you forever too Indy. Forever.”

The tears returned.

------------------------------------------

Grayson was the first up the next morning, after a restless night of sleep - or so he thought. Lisa was in the kitchen, watching the snow continue to fall outside. It coated the trees outside and muffled the woods in a blanket of white. Lisa turned to greet her son, and frowned. 

“Have you been crying?”

He hadn’t shed a tear since the night before, but he should have known she would know. A mother always does.

“Just some stuff with Bekah. She’s not doing well, and I feel bad cause I won’t see her again until next time we come visit after we leave.”

“You can always call, and she’ll have Indy. She’ll be okay love.” She stood and ruffled his hair as she passed, headed to pour him a cup of coffee.

“It’s not as good as Indy’s, but it’ll do,” she smiled, rubbing her hand over his shoulder. They sipped in silence for a moment as the world woke up.

“Do you remember the year Dad dressed up for Christmas? When we were five?”

“Oh yeah. That was your Poppy John’s idea, he did it for Sean when he was little. Said it made him believe in Santa for a few more years. Your dad wanted to keep you guys kids as long as he could, and he knew Cameron was going to figure it out sooner than later. He also knew you two would be spying. You tried it when you were four, but you both fell asleep on the stairs before you could see any action. He told you Santa must have carried you to bed when you woke up that morning.” 

“Holy shit, I remember that.” He paused for a moment, reflecting. “You all always went all out for us on the holidays, I never really thought about it. Thanks.”

Lisa smiled the warm smile that only mom’s could really give, and patted his hand on the table. “I just hope you’ll do the same for your kids one day. I know you will.” She paused for a moment, and then she smiled. “You remember what he told us, on that last Christmas? About what he was gonna do?”

Grayson could hear his father’s voice in his head for a moment, and it made his throat tight.

“Yeah. Said he’d give us white Christmases for the rest of our lives if he could.”

Lisa lifted her mug towards the windows.

“Merry Christmas Sean.” Her words hung in the air, and Grayson swallowed the lump in his throat, watching the snow fall. 

Eventually he went back to bed to coax Indy awake about an hour later, smiling at her bedhead when she rolled over.

“Merry Christmas Dee,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Her eyes widened a bit quicker than normal.

“It’s Christmas!”

“Yep,” Grayson laughed, brushing her hair out of her face. She caught his hand and pulled him down over top of her, the covers wedged between them as she kissed him.

“Merry Christmas,” she said against his lips, and he melted into her. He couldn’t think of how many Christmas morning’s he’d woke up wishing to have someone there with him. It brought a new kind of excitement that quieted his mind for the time being, and he happily scooped her up and sat her on her feet so they could go wake up the other duo of the house. 

By the time they convinced E squared to arise - which took jumping on the bed, a promise of lattes and the threat of cold water - Lisa was already halfway done with breakfast.

Grayson hadn’t exaggerated - there was a huge assortment of fruit, pastries and coffee to get everyone started. 

“Stockings first! Well, coffee, then stockings!” Lisa clapped her hands and passed out mugs. Indy channeled her Jet’s days to make the lattes quickly, funneling in behind everyone as they headed to the fireplace to grab their stockings.

She melted when she noticed the I. 

“Lisa, you didn’t need to do that.”

“Oh hush. Okay red E is Ethan, white E is Eden…” she trailed off as she passed them out, slightly confused when she watched Ethan reach underneath the tree to pull out a stocking for his mom that the boys had filled. 

Indy was let in on the stocking tradition when she opened it. Everyone got essentials - a new toothbrush, socks, chapstick, lotion. She also threw in each person’s favorite candy and a giftcard to a local ice cream shop in town with vegan options. Lisa’s stocking was more extravagant, with some of her favorite high-end hair products, a certificate for a free massage, and lots of bath bombs that were Wakeheart testers. She hugged her boys necks when they all stood up, up on her tiptoes so she could reach. Everyone funneled into the kitchen after that, the boys in charge of the vegan meat options while Indy and Eden helped with the biscuits and cinnamon rolls. They ate around a full table, laughing and telling stories of Christmas. Eden won the most interesting story with one about her holiday with her extended family back in the Philippines, in which they’d spent Christmas using buckets to get water out of the house from a monsoon that had made landfall, a rarity for that late in the year. 

Time seemed to fast forward as they moved to open presents. The boys spoiled Lisa, as they always did. A new iPhone, expensive tennis shoes to help her back while she worked. New signs for the garden beds that Grayson built and Ethan painted, a canvas print of the picture Charlie had taken from Thanksgiving. They saved the topaz ring for last, knowing it would make her cry. Her tears were enough to get Ethan’s eyes prickling - forever the mama’s boy, who just hugged her while she let it out, Grayson joining in a few moments later. She opened her sweater from Indy, complimenting the color, and a new set of Airpods from Eden, seeing that she’d lost her first set. 

They moved on to Eden next. She also got a new phone from Ethan, which she smacked his arm for buying considering she knew how expensive they were, ignoring the fact that her phone barely held 20 minutes of battery anymore. Grayson got her a new sketchbook with a set of top line pencils and markers for her to sketch out her work designs, and Indy bought her a pair of Nike’s that she’d had her eyes on. Lisa got her a gift card to her favorite restaurant in LA - a non vegan one that she proposed could be used on a girls date when Lisa came to visit.

Indy was next. She had always hated opening gifts in front of people but she swallowed her un-comfort and proceeded through the boxes. Lisa bought her a nice blow dryer, remembering that she’d complained about hers once and raved about the one that she let Indy borrow. Eden bought her a new outfit - it was a bit out of Indy’s comfort zone, with the patterned pants and bright top, but she hoped she’d be able to pull it off. Both Eden and Gray assured her that she could. Ethan bought her a print of the state of Indiana, laughing at the way she tried to pretend that she loved it. 

“Read the back.” 

She flipped it over, squinting to try to read his messy handwriting that told her to check behind the tree. Sure enough, she found a box with a stethoscope in it. Top of the line, one of the more expensive brands.

“Every doctor needs one of those things, at least that’s what google told me. It’s got your initials on it too, cause apparently people try to steal them.” 

He dismissed her claims that it was too much, and instead urged her to open Graysons gifts. The first was a speaker, because ‘Cudi needs to be played loud and well’, followed by a bag full of clothes. She pulled the first piece out and gasped.

“You bought me scrubs?”

“Yeah. I know you were stressed out about them being expensive, and I knew you’d use them. I bought five sets, I hope that’s enough. And I asked the nurses at Frazier what the best brand was, but if you don’t like those I have the receipt.” 

“I’m sure they’re perfect. Thank you bub, I love them.”

She knew that Grayson had held back, and she was appreciative, especially as they got closer to his gifts. Luckily, Ethan was born first and therefore got first dibs. He got a custom longboard from Eden that she’d designed with all his favorite things, including a thermal painting of a very scandalous picture of her on the bottom that she’s covered with a piece of paper so Lisa didn’t see. Grayson got him an envelope with three tattoo appointments that he’d managed to get with their favorite artist in LA, who was usually booked up for months in advance. Lisa bought him a new jacket and boots, while Indy bought him a pair of headphones designed for the inside of a helmet, so he could listen to music while he skated. 

Grayson was the last to go. Eden got him new sweatshirts since he ‘wore the same ones all the time’, while Lisa bought him a sweater and jacket. Ethan bought him extra organizers for his closet and a minimalistic nutcracker, though he admitted it didn’t stand a chance of taking the spot of one of the Cudi nutcrackers, which stood tall on the mantle. Finally, he opened his bag from Indy, smiling when he pulled out a few things. The first was a journal, made of recycled paper and bound in a dark green cover with his name on the front in gold. The next was a Jet’s gift card, a small inside joke between the two of them. The final one was a picture frame. It was simple, black with flecks of gold along the edges. Within it, the first picture they’d ever taken together, in the mirror of Indy’s room where half his body was covered in her writing, labeled muscles. 

“Can’t lie, I spent most of my budget on your birthday. But I have a matching picture to put on my shelf, so I figured you might like it.”

“I love it,” he reassured her, kissing her cheek quickly, a sweet moment before the bustle of clean up began. The afternoon flew by with movies playing in the background and the snow continuing to fall outside. The boys cleaned off the cars, and after sunset, they appeared with a duffle bag each and a mischievous look on their faces.

“C’mon, we’ve got one more gift to show you guys.” 

Lisa waved goodbye from the front porch as both couples climbed into the truck, the girls in the back.

“Do you know what this is about?” Eden whispered.

“No idea.”

So they waited patiently until they finally put the pieces together - it only clicked when Ethan got out and opened the gate.

The trail looked different from the seat of the truck. Partially because it had been cleared out, but mainly because they weren’t on the back of a quad, with the wind whipping in their faces.

Hidden away in the snow covered clearing, the tiny homes were covered in snow. The lights inside were glowing a warm yellow, inviting them in from the cold. Grayson parked halfway between the two, coming around to get the duffle bag before turning around, a sign for Indy to climb on his back.

She didn’t argue, considering he had the advantage of snow boots over her, and climbed on, hugging onto him tight as he trudged through the snow to the front door. He kicked the snow off his boots on the small front porch and then opened the door, the draft of warm air already enticing. 

The inside was more beautiful than Indy could have imagined it would have been. She remembered trying to visualize it when Grayson had explained where everything would be - it felt like years ago, that warm fall day. But the kitchen was exactly as he had said it would be, minimalistic with dark wood that looked black in the dim light and white cabinets. The stairs were beautifully done, and Indy found herself climbing to the loft to find the queen size bed that awaited them, with the triangular window that looked out over the trees. 

“This is incredible,” she mused, looking down over the balcony at him. He beamed up at her, taking her in. Her skin glowed in the warm light, her hair washed yellow in a beautiful tone as it hung around her shoulders. He found himself kicking off his shoes and climbing the stairs to meet her, abandoning his plan of giving her a full tour in favor of exploring her instead. 

She followed his movement like water in an ancient stream, cut out and formed just for her to flow along, and they ended up on the bed with her back against the soft mattress.

“Are we christening the house?” Her words were muffled by his lips, which were eager and hungry against hers, a feeble attempt to drown out his thoughts. He kissed her incessantly instead of answering, pressing all her buttons to make her melt for him. The heater was small and nestled downstairs, goosebumps rising in the cold air as they lost layer after layer, chasing the heat of each other.

He held her as close to him as he possibly could, blocked out the cold and the doubt as he bit onto her shoulder and rocked her in sync with his hips, watched her head fall back and his name sing from her lips as she came undone over and over again until she was putty in his hands. He came so hard he saw stars, slowing down with her still in his arms.

She was in such a daze that it took her a moment to come to her senses and remember that she needed to go downstairs to pee and get cleaned up. As soon as she was out of his sight, the realization of what he’d just done came crashing down on Grayson. The guilt crushed his lungs as he finally admitted to himself that he knew he was hurting Indy. He knew she deserved to know where his mind was at, where it had been ever since Ethan had brought it up. He’d been selfish, and cruel, and as he sat there naked he’d never felt more ashamed in his life. He scrambled to get his clothes back on before Indy came back up. 

She was still blissful, her legs a bit wobbly as she tried to navigate the unfamiliar stairs. But she frowned when she saw his winter coat. 

“Those aren’t pajamas.”

Grayson jumped at the sound of her voice.

“Yeah, uh, Ethan texted me, he said their heater isn’t working, asked me to come look at it.” 

“Oh. That sucks, you want me to come help? I can hold a flashlight or something,” she offered.

“No, no it’s cold, you just stay here and relax, I’ll be back. Might take a while, but I’ll be back.”

“No promises that I won’t be asleep,” she teased, climbing under the covers. “This bed is better than mine I think.”

“Get some rest, I’ll be back soon.” 

“Okay. I’ll save a spot for you. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He headed down the stairs, slipping his boots on as quickly as he could and choking back his sobs until he was out of the door. He trudged blindly across the yard, only guided by the lights from the windows, and he knocked on the door.

He couldn’t imagine what he looked like when Eden opened the door. But it was bad enough that she didn’t say a word. Instead, she simply turned and called for Ethan, who took one look at him and pulled on his coat, following him out into the snow towards the truck. 

Safe inside the cab and in the presence of his brother, Grayson fell to pieces. Ethan could only remember a handful of times that his brother had cried so hard, and he held him tight in his arms as best be could, shaking with him as the sobs ripped their way out of him. 

Ethan didn’t even attempt to talk, only to console as best he could until Grayson could finally breathe. He pulled the extra inhaler out of the glove box and made his brother take a few puffs when he started to wheeze, holding the canister up to his lips.

“Breathe Gray, c’mon, you’ve gotta breathe so you can talk to me. You gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can help. Hey, I’m right here, it’s me. You can tell me, it’s okay.” 

Grayson finally caught his breath enough to calm down, with his hands gripping onto Ethan’s jacket collar like his life depended on it.

“I’m gonna break her E. I’m gonna destroy her and it’s all my fault. I love her, fuck, I love her. What am I supposed to do?”

Ethan sucked in a long breath through his nose, looking over at Grayson’s house.

“You haven’t told her.” It wasn’t a question.

“I wanted to, I fucking can’t. Every time I think I can tell her I just think about what it’s gonna do to her. What it’s gonna do to me. I don’t know what the right thing is here E, you gotta tell me.”

“You know I can’t do that.” 

“Fuck that, you’re me, we’re each other, you know me better than I know me. Tell me what to do.” 

Ethan could barely see his brother’s face, but the little bit of light from the moon showed enough pain in his eyes to have Ethan’s stomach twisting. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed.

“You know what I’m gonna say.” 

Grayson’s breath hitched once, and then a new wave of sobs took over. He shook so hard that Ethan was convinced the entire cab was shaking with him. Ethan held him, willed himself to absorb some of the pain, as much as he could, anything to help. 

“If it’s the right thing why does it hurt this bad?”

“I don’t know Gray. I don’t know.” 

“I love her.”

“I know.”

“She loves me.”

“I know.”

“Then how is this the right thing?”

Ethan paused for a moment, holding steady on Grayson’s shoulders.

“What would dad say? If he was here with us, right now, what would he say?”

Grayson pressed into his eyes with the heel of his palms and sniffled.

“He’d say that it wasn’t fair. He’d be mad that I hadn’t told her yet, and he’d say that she’s a good person who shouldn’t have to give up on her dreams for mine. He’d tell me to do what’s best for her, I know that. God, FUCK!” He smacked the dashboard so hard that Ethan heard something crack. He wished there was a way that he could protect his brother in that moment more than anything. Usually, he could step up, take the heat, take the attention off him if he needed. It was one of the few times that he felt truly helpless.

“You don’t have to do it tonight. You still have a few days. Just think about what you want to say, and bring it up whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m never gonna be ready, Ethan. That’s the love of my life, and I’m just supposed to walk away? And what’s she gonna say, when she finds out I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and I haven’t said shit, huh? She’s not gonna want anything to do with me. She’s not gonna love me anymore, Ethan, and I can’t live with that. I can’t.” His voice cracked, and Ethan’s heart cracked with it.

“If it’s meant to work out, it will somehow. We’ve always believed that.”

“How?” It was a plea more than a question.

“I don’t know Gray. I don’t know.” 

Grayson didn’t know how long they sat in silence. They didn’t need words, just the comfort of each other’s presence as he ran through line after line of what he was going to say. He had to do it then, there was no other option. He had to tell her as soon as he got back, or he was afraid that he never would. But every time he closed his eyes to think, his mind was flooded with her, a kaleidoscope of memories and moments that he couldn’t imagine not making more of. He thought of the way his soul ached every time she cried, and he couldn’t fathom how much worse it would be when he was the cause of it. 

He threw the door open without warning, stepping back out into the snow. It took Ethan a few steps to catch him, but when he did he pulled him into a hug, a real one, and pressed his face into his shoulder. 

“I love you bro. We’ll get through it. You’ll be okay.” 

Grayson always knew when his twin was lying, but he tried his best to believe it. The cold wind stung on his wet cheeks as he went back to the house, kicking off his boots. He took the stairs one at a time as slowly as he could, his panic growing with each one. 

When his foot cleared the final step, he saw her.

She was asleep, curled up under the covers in her New York sweatshirt, hands folded underneath her face. He just stared at her, tried to memorize every feature on her face.

He could have stood there for hours, but she stirred only a moment later. Her eyes peered open just enough for him to see the blue, and then they closed again, a small smile stretching across her lips.

“Come to bed baby. S’warm.” 

Every cell in his body screamed at him, tried to pull him back as he slid out of his coat, out of his flannel, stepped out of his pants. His brain called him every name in the book, told him he was pathetic, weak, manipulative.

But his heart beat just a bit slower at the thought of being in her arms, even if it was just for a moment, the familiar home he’d made for himself comforting enough to let him drown the rest out and climb under the covers and over to her, pulling her into his arms as he pressed his lips together and let his eyes fall closed.

[alexwritesfiction]

hear my heartbeat? (just focus on that)

words: 2370

genre: fluff, angst, mlm friendship

tw: a bit very sad hmm

a/n: i love this idk why. i really shouldnt be writing so much angst holy hell. please read it!

—

in which michael can't sleep because if nightmares and ashton helps him.

—

Michael hated sleeping. He couldn’t even think about it. Just the thought of closing his eyes sent shivers down his spine. He used to love sleep. Heck, that was all he did back when he could. But things change, especially for him they did. He started to play in a band. With his best friends, no less. And he couldn’t have been more elated.

He needed to sleep, he craved to. Every night he’d lay down, terrified but with a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe he’ll sleep. Maybe, he won’t wake up in the middle of the thrashing and sobbing.

All he could do was hope, and he was running out of it at an alarming rate. For the past couple of shows he’d looked horrendous, as if his eyes had been painted red. He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. Didn’t feel like himself anymore.

He kept feeling worse and worse every day. It only doubled whenever he was struck with the realization that he should be happy that he even made something out of his career.

Lord, if Ashton could hear him right now, he would’ve no doubt broken down. And Michael couldn’t afford that. He needed Ashton to stay strong the way he was. He lived vicariously off him.

He thought Ashton didn’t know. But then again, he was the band dad after all. It was his job to protect his family. Where the band is, home is.

Today they were going to be playing a show in Copenhagen. The venue they were staying at only had two rooms, which means they’d have to share one each.

Sure, they’d shared rooms before, even beds, all four of them. But, this time, it was different. This time, Michael was different.

This scared him further. If he didn’t sleep alone, they’d know. He couldn’t bear the thought of having a nightmare while one of his bandmates was sleeping beside him. He could picture the disappointment on their faces. They’d hate him for not being okay. He was supposed to be fine. Michael had always been the chill, happy go lucky guy. The soft one, but strong. Oh, how untrue it was.

He may have been fine from the outside, but he just about was erupting like a volcano inside. And the lava ruined him every day. It was like he was the sun: bright from the outside, but just a big ball of black in the inside.

“C’mon Mike, we got to go,” Calum’s voice bounced off his door and he knocked. Michael currently sat in his stage clothes, trying to calm himself down as he curled into a ball. There was some shuffling outside the door, and then it burst open.

He looked up to see Ashton barging in with a wild look on his face. His face fell as he saw Michael curled up. But Michael, ever the tension diffusing machine, stood up faster than light and flashed a bright smile at him.

“Let’s freaking rock the stage tonight!” Michael grinning, hopefully throwing Ashton off track. He couldn’t let him know. But he could see it in Ashton’s eyes that he did. The look was gone as fast as it came, Ashton returning a soft smile.

Michael smiled gratefully, walking out the door, only to be held back by his arm as Ashton pulled him back and crushed him into a hug.

Michael inhaled sharply. He felt safe in his arms. He could breathe a bit better, even though it might just be a casual hug. His arms tightened against Ashton and then slowly tried to pull away. He knew that if he stayed like this any longer, he’d cry. And tears were weak. They weren’t manly. Especially not just before a show.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know,” Ashton whispered in Michael’s ears, his voice cracking a bit at the end. Michael trembled, recognizing the words he’d said to his band whenenver one of them had felt bad. Michael took it upon himself to cheer them up. If only he could do that to himself.

“Ashton,” Michael said. Because what else was there to say, really. Nothing made sense in Michael’s mind. Other than Ashton.

“Boys, we really do gotta go!” Luke yelled from somewhere.

The hug just ended like that. Ashton held Michael to an arm’s length, scanning his face for any sign of weakness. He knew Michael was sad, but one thing he didn’t know that Michael had one of the best poker faces. And right now, the most heart-breaking thing was that he wanted to die, but his smile said that he couldn’t be happier.

Ashton, finally satisfied, nodded at Michael, signalling at him to go on stage. Michael heaved a sigh of relief. He just merely got out of that one, he thought. If he gets paired with Ashton to sleep on the bed, he would be doomed. He could feel it.

But he couldn’t risk messing up on stage. So, he stood and thought of how rainbows were magical and how kittens could make his heart melt. And when he finally felt ready to go, he did. And he rocked it.

---

He’d messed up. Bad. One of the best shows and it was his fault it messed up. He ran down the stage and to the backstage, ripping the guitar off his chest. Hot tears streamed down his face as he fell near the washrooms. Sobs wracked his body. His bandmates came after him, yelling his name.

“Michael, it’s okay",” the hushed him, standing tall over him, and peering down with pity in their eys. Michael hated pity. He didn’t need pity. He needed to just let it out.

Next thing he knows, he’s being lifted and engulfed into a hug by his best friends. This only made him cry harder. He should’ve stopped, should’ve calmed down. But he just couldn’t. The emotions kept erupting, the lava kept erupting and Michael wasn’t in control of his poker face anymore.

He heard Ashton say that he’d be rooming with Michael tonight, and he was so caught up in just breaking down that he was powerless.

“Let’s go” Ashton stated, and Michael barely nodded, wiping his endless tears with his long sleeves. One could have said he looked adorable even while crying, and Michael would have laughed at them. Right now, he could just imagine Ashton giving him a lecture on how to get better or think positive. But that's never helped. Still, he was determined to not let Ashton down. He was the one person to have cared for Michael even in the darkest times, when Luke and Calum and Ashton rose to shine and Michael was overlooked.

They reached a door, and a man, possibly a bodyguard opened it up, eyeing Michael up and down like he couldn’t believe someone could be so wrecked. he had disgust in his eyes, and Ashton noticed it too.

“You’re fired. Go home” Ashton said in his taking-no-shit voice. The man spluttered before rapidly nodding his head and looking at Michael one last time before walking away.

“Stupid freaking humans,” Ashton muttered, and Michael couldn't have agreed more. He giggled in between his crying, and it sounded like a frog wailing due to his croaky throat.

And then they both were laughing uncontrollably at the atrocity of it all. Michael didn’t know how much more he could cry, so he started laughing, and Ashton joined in until they were in peals of laughter, just laying on the bed,

Ashton laid back down, head on the pillow, Michael using Ashton's stomach as a pillow, and it didn’t feel awkward. Not one bit.

They calmed down after a few minutes, the hazy tension returing. Michael braced himself as he heard Ashton take a deep breath. His stomach bloated beneath Michael and he chuckled.

“You can't sleep, can you, Michael?” Ashton asked, his voice reflecting that he already knew the answer. Michael just chose not to answer that question. Ashton already knew, there was no point in saying anything. Except one.

“Go on, tell me how I should get better,”

Michael hadn’t meant for the words to come out so bitter and he sat up straight as hurt flashed in Ashton's eyes. But he recovered quick. He knew Michael hadn’t meant those words.

“I- I'm sorry – I didn’t – I didn’t mean that-” Michael struggled to explain, his hands flailing in different direction, once again on the verge of crying.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Shh. It's all right, Michael.” Ashton sat up and rested Michaels hand to his sides.

“I know you,” he breathed, and with that, Michael confirmed his suspicions. He was shaken for a second. He did not know why. Why was he so affected? He already suspected Ashton knew.

Michael’s mind was a hurricane, and it was spinning faster and faster. He couldn’t think of what to say to Ashton, how to handle this situation. That got to him, his ability to diffuse tension suddenly not acting.

“I can't sleep, Ash,” he said brokenly. Ashton locked eyes with him like he wanted to tear down the mask in his eyes and pull Michael out of whatever hole he falling into before it was too late. Michael already thought it was too late, but Ashton believed it never was. He hoped it was true.

It all comes down to hope, Michael thought, everything always comes down to hope. He hated that word now, with every fibre of his being.

He wasn’t aware that tears had started falling again, he just stared like a pale dead body at Ashton.

“I don’t hate you, you know,” Ashton said suddenly, surprising Michael with his words. He didn’t believe Ashton. How could he not hate someone so…sad?

Michael truly was a contradiction of himself. He could believe Ashton had his back and that he hated him simultaneously. That’s how he worked.

“I love you, Michael,” Ashton whispered into the dead silence of the room. His hands reached out to Michael’s cheeks, wiping away the drops that showed his weakness. Michael couldn’t hold himself in, he flung his weight onto Ashton, almost attacking him. They both fell back onto the pillows and Michael held onto Ashton for dear life.

Ashton sighed, softly rubbing Michael’s back until his tears dried and he could pass out from exhaustion. But Michael couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, not when he’d cried so much.

Ashton had closed his eyes when Michael shifted his face from his stomach to look up at him. Ashton hummed in acknowledgement as if to say that he’s still there. Just…there. For him. And weirdly, that was all Michael needed to feel confident in telling him what he was about to.

“Hey, Ash?” he poked Ashton’s cheek repeatedly. Ashton didn’t respond, mocking him for being cute.

“Ash, Ash, Ash,” he kept chanting, finally cracking the curly haired boy up and making him pop one eye open. The tension that had been there had been dissipated as soon as cheeks were poked.

Michael had a soft smile on his face as he gazed up at Ashton. He blinked a few times, realizing they hadn’t even had the time to change their clothes. He still felt comfortable. Nothing other than Ashton could make him feel that way right now.

“Yeah?” Ashton murmured, raking his hands through Michael’s hair, which oddly felt like heaven.

“I can’t sleep,” he repeated his sentence from earlier, making Ashton confused. Why would he say that again?

“You already said-” he started, Michael cutting him off almost instantly.

“I have nightmares.” He stated. He felt Ashton inhale sharply at this. Ashton could never have imagined the extent of his acute insomnia. His hands stilled in Michael’s hair.

“God, Michael,” he stammered, “when were you gonna tell us?” Ashton asked, quietly as if the prospect of Michael keeping it to himself had hurt him. And it had, but he couldn’t focus on himself right now. this was about Michael, and he would be damned if he didn’t help him.

“Probably never,” Michael said truthfully, still lying on Ashton’s stomach. He grabbed Ashton’s hands from his hair and held them preciously between his own.

“There’s so many things I want to say to you right now, Mike. I just don’t know if I should say them now.” Ashton explained, and Michael understood perfectly. He’d known that feeling all too well.

“So, don’t,” Michael chuckled.

“Come here,” Ashton said in a voice that left no questions. Michael crawled up and lay his head on Ashton’s chest. He could feel a steady thumping beneath him and sighed and he put a hand over Ashton’s waist, cuddling up.

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.” Ashton said after a few seconds. And he did. He paid attention to ever heartbeat, the feeling calming him down. He felt like the volcano had erupted and now it was just calm, like a boulder had been lifted off his chest. He knew it would last, but he couldn’t bring himself to get away from Ashton. He believed then that Ashton was the one he could go to without hesitation.

Michael smiled, his eyes unconsciously fluttering close. Ashton peered down after a few minutes when he heard small snores. And he saw the best sight he could’ve seen, as Michael slept cuddled up to him. Slept because he felt safe. In his arms.

Ashton couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and he had to do a double take before finally letting a grin spread on his face. He adjusted the pair of them so that they held hands, Michael on his chest with his other arm on Ashton’s waist, and Ashton’s hand resting on Michael’s head. He fell asleep too, in a while, the thought of Michael still on his mind.

If someone had seen them now, they’d have seen a couple. Two boyfriends sleeping. But it went far deeper than that. They were best friends. Brothers, more accurately. And neither of them could care enough as to what anyone thought they were.

Because that’s what they were, in the simplest words.

Michael and Ashton.

read it full on ao3 here :)

taglist under the cut! leet me know to be added!

@petitpancakes @skinni-ciggis @bubblegum18 @cbfjdx @fckingpernico @5sos-taylor-b99 @dumbsouvenir @i-like-5sos @heartbreakgirlisagoodsongcalum @neptune-falls @metanoiamorii @thescatteredscribbles @little-boats-on-a-lake @talesofsorrowandofruin @w-l-ink @baguettethebooklover @euphoniouspandemonium @wannabeauthorzofija @lady-of-himring @the-writing-avocado @ink-fireplace-coffee @your-local-bi-disaster @a-completely-normal-writer @felonyfairy @cool-but-confused

[moral-turpitudes]

Unfinished Business: Part 1

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Slight mentions of past Abuse, Drugs.

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

+ random character/group I made up (Romboldi & The Black Hats)

Word Count: 3,084 omfg I really did the most but I just kinda ran with it.

Summary: Y/N’s current occupation requires her to encounter Thomas Shelby, a man she thought was in her past for good, but as fate would have it, she has to face him once again, because no one can forget a Shelby. 

Requested by: @msbzowy​

Summary of request: “...Thomas lost any contact with the reader and one time while on a business deal he meets her because they’re both involved in the business. They would be fighting a lot but eventually something happens between them and the old feelings come back? You can make it sweet or steamy. No specific deal in mind, just like the general idea! Thank you in advance!” 

A/N: This was requested as a oneshot but I had so many great ideas for it based off this awesome request, so I figured I’d turn it into a 2 or 3 part fic possibly. Let me know if that’s something you’d want to read. :)

Part 1 | Part 2

Y/n walked down the wooden staircase after receiving a phone call, one hand gliding down the rail, and the other holding her suitcase. Her nerves consuming her as she ran down the hall and out the door of her house in New York. The spring air filling her lungs as she quickly walked to the edge of the street, attempting to hail a cab. As she waved her hand out, she smiled as she saw one stop and handed him some cash for his efforts. She wasn’t much for pointless conversation, especially now. She was on her way to one of the biggest meetings of her career, a career she had found herself in only 2 years prior. It was a job most people wouldn’t want, but it paid well, and since she fled Small Heath, she needed the income and the protection. 

Small Heath was a series of bittersweet memories. Seeing her friends at the tailor shops, walking down the dark cobblestone streets, and becoming particularly close to a man named Thomas Shelby. After the war, he got heavily involved in the business, dealing with rival gangs, going after commissioners, committing arson, murder, dealing with bets at the tracks, and breaking hearts most of all. In the matter of heartbreaks, y/n was his first true victim. 

As the cab rolled down the city streets, she glanced out the window, remembering all that she left behind. 

Tensions in the blinders were running high at the time of her departure from the company, back when they had a business meeting with a rival group, the Black Hats from New York. The blinders wanted to transport weapons and ammo for a cheaper price because of recent financial troubles, but they weren’t having it and the Black Hats declined, but not without blowing up one of Tommy’s supply areas. This smuggling shit was risky business to say the least, as these were being smuggled along with drugs.....snow to be exact. The little blue bottles were like gold, taking away the pain of the day while giving you the energy to go on to the next, sucking you in like a rip-tide at sea until you were consumed by the need for more. She had been all too familiarized with it because Tommy struck a deal with a huge supply of it before she left. He didn’t use it often, but Arthur was a different story.

It came as a shock to her, as she had been dating Tommy for a year before everything came crashing down. She was confronted by him at a family meeting saying that she needed to leave, that she had no place there despite her skills. She was a great shot and was helpful on many occasions, but to have her there would pose a risk they weren’t willing to take after they bombed him. So, in true Tommy fashion, he gave her some money, bought her a boarding pass, and sent her on her way to New York to start a new life, his cold eyes staring as he watched her board the ship, emotionless.

This only fueled her need to get back at him, to show him what he had lost, while also proving to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her. She could make a name for herself, even if that meant working for the enemy. 

Pulling up to the brick building, she realized she was now in the belly of the beast, the Black Hats home-turf. She was never seen with the Shelby’s when they visited him in Small Heath, as she was always doing secretary work at Tommy’s place, or perched high on rooftops, aiming at the men below who had came to charlies yard for their meetings. She was always out of sight regarding those men, but now here she was, working for them. She came to them seeking any position, lying about where she came from, supplying them with her forged papers, and even hiding her accent. For as big as this gang was, they weren’t the brightest, as they accepted her in with little apprehension. 

She earned a good living for herself though, quickly becoming their main contract killer. She would travel the country and take out the people on their hit list, and in return they’d provide her with housing and a guard that would check in every so often. 

As she walked in through the heavy double doors, she nodded to one of the guards who let her through into the leader, Mr. Romboldi’s office. He smiled as she came in, fiddling with his golden ring around his finger. 

“Ah there she is...little miss Quick Shot. Nice of you to join us.” He said using her nickname she’d earned among her peers. She could hit a target from various angles and distances without much help and came to like the name she made for herself. Y/n soon nodded and stood at attention like the others, ready for the days orders.

“We have some unfinished business in Small Heath, as I’m sure you’re all aware. It’s been a while since we’ve been overseas, and we’re going to send someone tomorrow to discuss our deal once more as they’ve had recent success in a certain business venture that I’m sure we’d appreciate here.” He said with a serious look in his eyes.

“What venture?” One of the men asked.

“Gin. Buying stocks in it, selling bottles, transporting cross-country, we Americans love our gin and Mr. Shelby has a new supply. He tried to low-ball us last time with the ammo, the guns, and the snow, but I’m going to send him an offer he can’t refuse this time.” He said smirking.

“What offer is that?” Y/n asked, putting on her fake accent.

“You.” He said looking at her. Y/n’s heart sank, as she looked at him and nodded. She never wanted to see him again after he booted her out like she meant nothing to him, even if it was to save-face for him and the company and for her safety. 

“You’re going to get him to supply us the gin and get him to pay us full price for our efforts with this am I clear?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” y/n said. 

“If you fail, we’ll be meeting again under very different circumstances.” He said, an evil smile playing at his lips.

She’s known him long enough to know that he meant he’d kill her or Tommy, and as much as she hated the man who broke her heart, she still loved him at the same time, and she couldn’t let him or his family die over a silly business deal.

As soon as she was dismissed, she grabbed her suitcase and headed off to the boating docks, buying a ticket and boarding the ship. She knew her boss didn’t care when she left, as long as she got there sometime that week. And besides, she was too anxious to wait around for tomorrow, knowing this was time sensitive. 

After the grueling ride aboard the ship, she went into London after going through the necessary checks. She used her alias and made her best impression, and then went on to Small Heath as assigned. When she got out of the car, she smirked as her red heels hit the black soil covered streets. Walking by a shop, she saw a women’s tailor and decided to stop in, buying a well made pant suit. It fit well and was a nice gray color with pinstripe detailing. Looking around further, she decided on a gold pocket watch, and nice hat to match, and then went on her way after buying it all. 

Walking down the street, she saw the Garrison, causing all the memories she had with Tommy and the rest of the blinders to start coming back. They were like brothers to her and despite her bitterness, she still loved them, as they were not particularly happy in seeing her go, as that was solely Tommy’s decision. 

Y/n shook the thoughts from her head, and waited outside the shop, leaning her back against the coal-black wall. While lighting a cigarette and taking a drag from it, she looked off into the distance seeing a man in a peaked cap riding a dark horse, much different than the white one she saw two years ago. As he pulled up near Shelby Company Ltd. He stopped in his tracks as y/n took another drag of her cigarette, looking at her pocket watch.  

“Nice horse Tommy. You’re right on time.” She said relishing in the fact that she could use her normal accent. Her sunglasses and new brimmed hat helped in disguising her face.

“Thank you miss....Who are you?” He asked his eyes burning a hole through her shaded lenses. She smirked and took them and the hat off, revealing her face.

“Y/n...” He said, his eyes growing wide. He immediately took her inside and to his office, shutting the door behind him. 

“What on earth are ya fucking doing here?” He asked.

“That’s not a nice greeting for someone you haven’t seen in two years Tom. But given what happened I didn’t expect anything nice from you anyways. I’m here on business.” She said, walking past him to put her cigarette out. He watched as she walked towards him, her arms folded over her well-fitting suit, standing in front of him.

“What business is that?” He asked. 

“Oh you know, just a little...mafia business back in New York. Nothing too big... except that you’ve pissed off my boss. And now I’m sent here to try to make a deal.” She said making herself at home in one of his leather armchairs. He raised an eyebrow and sat on the edge of his desk near her. 

“What deal? Who are you working for y/n?” He asked.

“The Black Hats. Mr Romboldi to be exact...ring a bell yet? The son of a bitch who took me in after you booted me out without a goodbye? Yeah, him. He still remembers your little low-ball offer for the guns, the ammo, and-” She chuckled as she remembered the drugs. “-the fucking snow.” She said giving him daggers.

He looked down, y/n could see the gears turning in his head.

“I told you to leave and not go anywhere near them y/n. Why the hell are ya working for em aye?” He asked angrily. 

“You and I both know I couldn’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs and making pies for someone I never loved all day. I wasn’t going to be some house wife to some old bastard while I could’ve been out shooting and working a meaningful job. I wasn’t going to let myself rot.” She said, her own voice raising. 

“You didn’t have to choose this life though. You could’ve left this behind like I wanted you to.” He said lighting a cigarette. 

Y/n chuckled. “I remember what you told me one time, when I first started getting involved in Peaky business. You said and I quote, ‘you can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want.’ And you know what Tommy? I wanted this life, I wanted you, I wanted to make a name for myself, I wanted the thrill of this job because I often feel nothing. But I’ve only gotten half of that.” She said getting up, pacing around the room as he watched.

“What did you not get y/n?” He asked too focused on the mafia issue at hand to realize she mentioned him.

“You, you fucking idiot! But you threw me out, no goodbyes, no letters, nothing.” She said, her eyes filling up with tears.

“Y/n...that was two years ago. I was trying to protect you.” He said noticing the tears running down her face. 

“I had a job. I had a life here. I’m not expecting you to ever want me back but god damn it I’d like an apology. Hell, you didn’t protect me from shit.” She said, thinking about some of the things she had to do to get through to some people for her boss. She shuddered at the thought.

He looked hurt, seeing her like that, and despite it being two years since that day, he still loved her all the same, he was just terrible at showing it. He never thought he’d see her again, and in that moment he decided he wasn’t going to let her go again. 

She wiped her eyes as she felt him walk up behind her, she tensed up, not knowing what would happen next. He put his hand on her shoulder lightly, and she turned around to face him, her eyes still bright and hopeful after all that had happened. He loved her, and after she left, he mentally beat himself up over it every day. He turned to snow for a while, along with his opium, but what he truly needed was y/n. Fearing she may be too angry to every take him back, he hesitated as he brushed the tears from her cheek and kissed her. 

Instead of slapping him or walking out, she deepened the kiss, which surprised Tommy, as he pulled her as close has he could, not wanting to let her go. When they parted, lightly gasping for air, he smiled slightly and so did she. 

“I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry y/n.” He said stepping back from her.

She looked at him as she processed what happened, she never expected to fall right back into his arms after all she went through, but here she was, being sucked in by his ocean blue eyes once again. 

She straightened her blazer out and pushed a stray hair out of her face. 

“Why did you kiss me Thomas?” Y/n asked taking another cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. 

Thomas thought for a moment, trying to pick his words less recklessly this time around.

“When I forced you out, I stayed up every night beating myself up. I’ll never get those nights back, but those nights made me realize something y/n.” He said.

“If you’re going to break my heart again just say it already.” She said tapping her heel impatiently. 

“I love you...y/n.” He said looking at her, studying her as she moved anxiously. He loved the way she looked, the way she carried herself, the way she wasn’t afraid to call him out. But he was terrified for the first time in his life that the woman he loved wouldn't return those very words back to him.

She looked down, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I came here not only because of an order Tom...but because deep down despite my hate for what you did, I knew why you did it. And even though two fucking years have passed, I still haven’t been able to get you out of my head. So, I guess what the fuck I’m trying to say is that I love you too, you bastard.” She said looking up at him a light smile playing at her lips.

He smiled and walked over to her and took her hand in his, kissing it lightly. 

“I promise to never do something so foolish again y/n. I swear on me fucking life...so am I forgiven?” He asked.

She took his words into consideration and nodded, bringing his lips to hers. Breaking away, she walked around the room slowly, remembering all of their fun times in here after-hours. 

“So, about Mr. Romboldi, y/n how serious is this?” He asked.

“Well, he said that you’ll have to pay them full price for their services. He wants your gin. He sent me to persuade you to pay him for distribution and sales in the states......and It’s not easy Tommy, smuggling things.... especially alcohol back to the states........I hate him and his men believe me, but they risk their lives getting that kind of stuff so I think you should consider paying a full price.” She said.

“And if I don’t?” He asked. 

Y/n sighed. “I was also sent here because he knew you couldn’t refuse an offer if it came from a pretty woman. Now, he may have been right on that part, but he doesn’t know that I’ve been working under an alias for him, and he doesn’t know I know you. They think my name is Y/N Anderson, from Virginia. And so if you don’t take this offer, they’re going to find out, and then Mr. Romboldi and his men are gonna waltz in here and kill you, me, and everyone you care about because they’ve already been wronged once, and they don’t like being wronged a second time.” She said sternly, taking another drag from her cigarette.

He sighed and ran his hands over his head, his face growing angry.

“What is it Tommy?” Y/n asked, noticing his behavior. 

“After all this time, I thought maybe I’d be done for a moment y/n. With this whole empire of a business. But I think that moment will never come...before I stupidly forced you away, I had everything. I had this going great, and at night I could sleep. But now, when I do sleep, I dream. And in my dream, someone wants my crown.” He said with a sad look to his eyes. Y/n came over to him and hugged him gently, feeling him relax at her touch.

“Well, I’m here now. And the only way you’re going to get a break and get to keep your crown is if you help me fucking take care of this Thomas.” She said. 

He sighed and took a moment to think.

“Alright...in that case...you’re going to call him from a payphone tomorrow. You’re going to say I accept his offer now that we have the fucking funds to do so, and you’re going to tell him we can meet in a weeks time. We’ll meet in charlies yard again.” He said.

“So we have a deal then?” She asked grinning, still embracing him.

“We have a deal.” He said. 

“So now that I’m here...where shall I stay?” She asked.

“Well, first I’m going to re-introduce you to the family which I’m sure they’ll love. Then, I’ll be taking you to my place.” He said.

“And why is that?” She asked a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

“Because we have some unfinished business.” He said, before pecking her lips and ushering y/n out the door and into the family meeting room.

[lumau]

Chapters: 3/7 Fandom: The Invisible Library - Genevieve Cogman Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Irene (The Invisible Library), Kai (The Invisible Library), Peregrine Vale, catherine (the invisible library), Lord Silver (The Invisible Library), Li Ming (Invisible Library), Ao Shun (Invisible Library) Additional Tags: ilcharacterweek, Angst, Some Humor, Some Romance, all a bit trippy, but it'll make sense, potentially additional tags per chapter, minor spoilers for the dark archive and all other books Summary: 7 chapters, each focussing on one of the main / favorite characters (written for 2021 Invisible Library Character Appreciation Week)

Chapter 3 - Vale

additional safety notes for this chapter: contains reference to death / suicidal thoughts

 ╳

Vale’s cane tapped on the dark, polished floor as he strode briskly down the corridor.

This, he could feel it. This was it.

His usual instinct that helped him to meet the right people at the right time had never failed him, and he would trust it also in this case. While his whole system was on full alert, there was the smallest twitch in the corner of his lips. He quietly muttered to himself, as he briefly bent down to check the floor, before continuing onwards with even more determination.

“If my record were closed tonight I could still survey it with equanimity. Today I crown my career by the capture or extinction of the most dangerous and capable criminal in Europe.”

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, but, as expected, the hall was empty. Very well. He had sent Strongrock to meet up with Winters, which should distract both of them sufficiently. This was one matter he had to face alone.

In front of him the corridor ended and opened into a vast space. Not only the ceiling lay hidden in complete darkness, but also the other sides of the wide room. It was impossible to make out how far the room stretched in any direction.

Vale stopped in his tracks and stood completely still, listening intently. He could not hear any noise by another living thing, but found that he could make out a vague rushing sound, like water running down a stream in the far distance. And still, he knew that he was not alone.

Ahead of him a narrow bridge stretched out over the darkness that lay below. There was only one way onwards.

Vale was perfectly calm when he pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket. He set down his cane, leaning it against the wall of the corridor, and in his usual firm and clear manner, he wrote out a few lines, before cleanly ripping the sheet from the book and sticking it behind the cane’s handle.

 My dear Winters, my dear Strongrock! I write these few lines through the courtesy of my adversary, who awaits my convenience for the final discussion of those questions which lie between us. I am pleased to think that I shall be able to free society from any further effects of his presence, though I fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends, and especially to you.

However, my career had in any case reached its crisis, and no possible conclusion to it could be more congenial to me than this. I made every disposition of my property before leaving London, and handed it to my sister Columbine. Pray give my greetings to Inspector Singh, and believe me to be, my dear fellows,

Very sincerely yours, Vale

With one deep breath and not a moment's hesitation, Vale turned to face towards the narrow plank across the unfathomable chasm. As he began to walk, he could make out a shadow opposite him, the dark figure of a man, walking towards him at the same, steady pace. 

Vale felt his heart pounding fast in his chest, but no sign of the thrill of anticipation passed through to the outside. There was the familiar weight of his revolver against the side of his leg. Without his cane it did give him something to focus on, a target for his senses, to keep them alert and focussed. He knew that if he only slipped for a second, it would be a lost game. Only fools underestimated their enemies, and while Vale was prepared to die, he would not do so without taking his with him.

The light was so low that he could still not make out more than the outlines of the man opposite him. The bridge was so narrow that neither of them would be able to evade the other. 

"It is a dangerous habit to finger loaded firearms in the pocket of one's coat."

Vale startled for a second, as the voice rang out ahead of him, loud and clear, an echo in the vast chamber. He drew to a halt, the figure opposite mirroring his step. Vale smiled, and pulled out his revolver. 

"You evidently don't know me," snarled the voice.

“On the contrary," Vale answered in a light tone, that gave none of his tension away. "I think it is fairly evident that I do. Pray, spare me the chatter. If you have anything to say, then do it now."

"All that I have to say has already crossed your mind."

“Then possibly my answer has crossed yours," Vale replied.

“You stand fast?”

“Absolutely."

The silence was cut by the faintest rustle of fabric, and with one swift motion, Vale raised his pistol, just as the other moved in the same manner, and pulled the trigger.

The shot was an explosion in the vast, empty room. Within the same moment Vale knew that something had gone wrong, even while the sudden, blinding light made it impossible for him to see. Then the fragments of broken glass came hurling towards him and he understood.

It was an instinctual move to dodge the bullet that had ricocheted from the mirror that sent his foot over the edge of the bridge. His weight tipped with nothing to grasp for, and he fell.

╳

“Strongrock?”

Vale stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the shattered glass and fragments of what looked like it had once been a chair that were strewn all across the floor. The figure kneeling crouched over in the middle of it all had nothing of the poise and energy he knew his friend to hold in almost any situation, but it was clearly him. With a critical glance around Vale quickly took in the scene. Just a moment ago he had woken slouched in a dark corridor without any recollection of how he got there. But as he followed the faint noises around the corner and was faced with this scenery, all his senses immediately sprang to high alert. He itched to investigate the rubble and this odd place. Yet, the dragon’s state seemed the most pressing issue for now.

“My dear fellow, are you alright?”

He went down on one knee next to him and touched a hand to his shaking shoulder. Kai flinched and looked up at him. His face was streaked with tears and ashen. Tiny cuts stood out dark against his deadly pale skin. Kai stared at him in shock with the expression of someone who had just seen a ghost, or believed he had. Vale frowned, clearly something had shaked his friend to the bones, and he knew this was not easily done.

“Vale? You… are you real?” His voice was hoarse and small, and Vale could hear the desperation in it. It met some part inside his chest with a stinging pain.

Vale swallowed down a lump in his throat, and gave the dragon’s arm a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Quite, for all I can account for, I am very real.”

“I thought I had lost you,” Kai slumped forwards in a shudder of sobbs, clasping onto Vale’s arm.

Vale was taken aback by the outburst, wondering what might have inspired it. He put his hand on Kai’s heaving back. This was a moment where Winters would say something sympathetic and yet constructive, witty but kind. He on the other hand was rather out of his depth, and while he had faced many distraught clients and victims, they weren’t generally his friends as well.

It took him a moment to regain his composure. As Kai sat up, he looked more miserable than Vale had ever seen him, but his eyes had regained some of their sharpness now. He focussed on Vale, and there was something in his look that he had not seen there before.

“Vale, please forgive me. I don’t even know what I can say to express how sorry I am.”

“I can’t see what you should apologize for and what has upset you that much. Won’t you explain to me?” Vale asked softly.

Kai took a deep breath to steady himself and told Vale what had happened. His face drew into a pained expression as he told him of his struggle to free them, and his desparation as he simply couldn’t do anything. He averted his eyes, clearly fighting to find the words.

“I just had to do something. It was not as if I would not have tried to help you and Catherine as well. Please, Vale, you must believe me,” he pleaded.

Vale paused, thinking rapidly. This was all very curious. “You might have fallen victim to some sort of wicked illusion. Surely you must see that this is so, as I am right here, unharmed?” 

Kai swallowed, then shook his head decisively. “But that is not the point,” his voice rose to an urgent tone that Vale had rarely heard from him, at least not directed at himself, “I betrayed you. How can you be so dismissive about this?”

Vale took a moment to consider. 

“My dear Strongrock, had I been there, I would have implored you to save Winters. And it would have been the sensible thing, too, as her abilities might have enabled further action," he said calmly. "I would have expected nothing less of you. There is nothing to forgive.”

Kai stared at him, aghast, and Vale could see a whole array of emotions pass over his face. He was so obvious, still, and it was one of the things that made him such a fine person.

“Why do you have to be so utterly noble?” Kai grunted, but the strained expression on his face had softened somewhat. In a spontaneous gesture, Vale held his hand out for him. Kai took it, and then leaned forward to pull him into an embrace. 

Vale was startled, but forced himself to not just hang in his arms boardlike. That was usually not an appropriate reaction. Instead he settled on returning the embrace, and for a moment, he thought he shared the others relief and allowed himself to relax a bit.

And then, the screams started outside.

╳

(with abbreviated quotes from The Adventure of the Final Problem by Arthur Conan Doyle)

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 27

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Pairings: Damon x Oc, Tyler x Oc for a hot minute, Elijah x Oc for a hotter minute, Klaus x Oc endgame. Warning: Mental and physical abuse in some chapters.

Alaric spoke to one of his buddies at Duke University and got Katie into a three week medical internship program for students who want to pursue a career in the medical field. While she was there, away from Mystic Falls and the vampire/werewolf craziness, she started to change. She felt free and more herself than she had in a long time. It only made her more eager and excited to get into college and out of Mystic Falls.

Her third day there they were given a tour of the nearby hospital’s neonatal unit and nursery. “Babies who are not held, nuzzled, and hugged enough can stop growing and if the situation lasts long enough, the baby may even die.” The instructor who was leading around the group of students told them where they stood in the middle of the room full of clear hospital bassinets and incubators, a few of which held babies. “Baby Smith here is a prime example.” She told them as she walked over to a bassinet with a baby inside wrapped up like a burrito in a white hospital blanket. “Her father signed all rights over before she was born and her mother passed away during the birth.”

“So she’s orphaned.” Katie was talking more to herself than the nurse, but she caught the nurse’s attention.

“Yes.” The instructor answered. “What is your name?”

“Katie.” She answered.

“Katie, would you like to hold her?” she asked, putting Katie on the spot. “She needs all the love she can get.” Katie just nodded and stepped through the group to the hospital bassinet. “Do you know how to hold her?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Katie answered with a smile down at the baby as she gently slid her hand under her head and another under her back. As she picked up the tiny baby and moved her into the crook of her arm, making sure to support her head, it started crying. “Hey, sweetheart, no tears.” Katie told the baby softly, temporarily forgetting about the other people in the room. “I got you, it’s alright.” She started gently bouncing the baby, humming a lullaby and the baby’s cries quieted.

“You have the magic touch. Baby Smith usually cries the whole time she’s being held.” The instructor told her with an impressed look. “Does anyone else want to give it a try?” Katie almost didn’t want to let the baby go, but she knew she had too.

--That night—

~Dream~

Elijah opened the door of their cabin, letting Fiona, who was cradling a six month old baby in her arms, inside. “He is absolutely perfect.” Hannah gushed as she caught sight of the little boy’s dark complected face that was surrounded by a soft hand made blanket.

Elijah moved behind her and took a peek at the baby over her shoulder. “Hannah is right, as usual.” He told Fiona then looked at Hannah with a look that said he was kidding with her. “May I?” he asked with a motion to the baby.

“Of course.” Fiona told him then passed him the baby.

The sight of Elijah, a strong man that some would call a monster, holding something as small and fragile as a baby caused Hannah’s heart to skip a beat. Fiona saw the look on her friend’s face and nudged her shoulder with hers. “Do you need this?” she asked holding burp cloth out to her.

Hannah blushed and slapped it away. “Oh stop it.”

“You know,” Fiona started with a look between Elijah and Hannah as she sat down at the dining table, “Julie over at the inn is in bad health and looking for someone to take in her two year old if you two would like to consider it.”

“Oh, Fiona, I don’t…” Hanna drawled with an unsure look at Elijah.

“We will talk about it.” he told Fiona surprising the hell out of Hannah. Elijah’s eyes found Hannah’s before he looked back down at the baby in his arms and started talking to him in a soft voice that made Hannah smile.

~End of Dream~

The whole time she was gone she dreamt of Elijah.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie walked into the boarding house to find that, nothing had changed. That was until she walked into the parlor and saw Damon, covered in soap suds while wrapping a red throw blanket around his hips and Elena stood across from him covering her eyes. “What’s going on here?” she asked a little shocked at the scene.

“Elena doesn’t know how to knock.” Damon answered with a smirk. “I thought she was you.”

“He’s covered now. You can put your hand down.” Katie told Elena who peeked through her fingers then dropped her hand as Damon walked over and kissed Katie on the cheek.

“Sheriff Forbes gave us another location to check.” Elena told Damon as she pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket then held it out to him as Katie ducked under his arm and he wrapped it around her shoulders. “Memphis.”

“Another dead end, you mean?” he asked as he took it from her.

“You don’t know that.” Elena told him.

“You’re right, Elena. This could be the one.” Damon told her. “After almost two months this could be the clue that tells us Stefan’s alive and well and living in Graceland.”

“Fine. I’ll go by myself.” Elena took the paper from him and walked around him, but he whooshed in front of her and took the paper.

“And let Klaus know that you’re tracking him? He thinks you’re dead. Let’s keep it that way.” He told her as he looked at the paper.

“It’s a new lead, Damon.” Elena argued. “We haven’t had one in a while.”

“Okay. I’ll check it out. If I find anything, I’ll call you.” he told her then turned around and walked off leaving Katie alone with Elena.

“So, how was med. camp?” Elena asked with a sigh and an aggravated look on her face.

“Good. I’m going to be a pediatrician.” She answered getting a raised brow look from Elena.

“Really?” Elena said as she pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair making it fall around her shoulders.

“Yep.” She said with a shrug as she watched Elena gather her hair back up and tie it back up into a ponytail. “Are you excited about your birthday party tonight?”

“I don’t even want a party. Caroline is-”

“Being Caroline?” Katie asked with a smile and Elena nodded. “It’s happening, so the least you can do is make an appearance and eat a piece of the cake I’m making you.”

“Wait, you’re making the cake?” Elena asked as Katie headed into the kitchen to get to work.

“Yep, you said no gifts so I’m making you something you can’t say no to and it’s not technically a gift if everyone enjoys it.” she told her as she started looking around the kitchen for cake pans.

“Since when do you cook?” Elena asked as she sat down in one of the barstools.

“If you ask Elijah you might have to run to the store and buy a second one, but that was before these were invented.” She told her as she grabbed the chicken shaped timer and set in within arms reach. “So I guess the answer to your question would be since freshman year, home economics.” Katie said as she slammed a cabinet door shut. “How is it possible that there isn’t a single cake pan is this big ass kitchen?” she turned around to see Elena looking at her. “What?”

“Do you miss him?” she asked, making Katie give her a confused shake of her head. “Elijah. That’s at least the fiftieth time you’ve mentioned him this summer.”

“I’ve been at a medical camp half the summer and a lot of medical emergencies happened when we were together. It’s just drumming up old memories.” She answered truthfully as she tapped her ear and pointed up.

“Have you heard from Bonnie recently?” Elena asked, getting the hint that Katie wanted to change the subject.

“I talked to her this morning. She compared her father’s family to wet paint that never dries.” Katie answered as she pulled her car keys out of her pocket. “I have to go buy cake pans you wanna tag along or…”

“No, Caroline is on her way over with Tyler to decorate.” Elena answered so Katie waved over her shoulder and left.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie worked on the cake all day and was putting the finishing touches on it when people started showing up for the party. “Are you done with that yet?” Caroline asked as she walked into the kitchen to see Katie still slaving away over the cake.

Katie ignored her and finished writing Elena’s name in cursive with black icing. “Done.” She stood up and motioned to the cake with the hand that wasn’t holding the icing bag. “What do you think?”

Caroline walked around the white three tiered, topsy turvy cake covered with pink and black poke-a-dots glaring at it with her appraising eyes. “A professional could have done it better, but I think Elena will like it.”

“Okay, now that I have your seal of approval I’m going to go get dressed. Make sure no one messes with this please.” Katie didn’t wait to hear what Caroline had to say as she headed up to her room to change.

She was straightening the neckline of her white, spaghetti strap sundress with a scoop neck and a floral print of small red flowers, when Damon walked into her room. “I missed you.” he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

As Katie turned in his arms a hard box in his pocket brushed her leg. “What’s this?” she asked, tapping it with her finger.

“Elena’s birthday gift.” He answered as he stood up straight and pulled a small black box out of his pocket then opened it for her to see Elena’s necklace that Stefan had given her laying on a pad of white fluff. “Alaric found it in his apartment. I thought it might make her feel like she still has a piece of Stefan.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Katie thought out loud then walked over to her dresser and grabbed a pair of small silver hoop earrings off of it. “So how was the road trip?”

“Interesting.” He told her. “Stefan killed two people, but the interesting part is there was a secret werewolf holding cell under the house.” He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he said, “I’ll meet you down at the party.” as he tucked the box back into his pocket and left the room. Katie couldn’t help letting her ears follow Damon up to Stefan’s room where Elena had been getting ready. “I got you something.” She heard him tell her. “I know I promised not to buy you anything. So don’t worry I didn’t pay for it.”

“You stole it?” Elena asked and Katie rolled her eyes.

“No.” Damon told her with a scoff. “I found it.”

“My necklace.” Elena said quietly. “I thought I’d never see it again.”

“Alaric found it in his loft. I figured you’d be happy to get it back.” he told her.

“I am happy.” Katie could hear the sad, but slightly happy tone in Elena’s voice. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Damon told her.

Katie left her bedroom just as she heard them walking by and a little jealousy shot through her when she saw Elena’s arm looped through Damon’s. He could see it on her face so he held his other arm out to her. She took it, but as soon as they were at the bottom of the stairs she let go and headed to the kitchen to make sure no one had messed with the cake. However when she got in the kitchen she found that it was gone.

Worried she headed to the parlor where she saw Elena and Caroline getting a cup of beer from the keg in the corner. “Caroline!” Katie called getting Caroline’s attention so as soon as she could Caroline and Elena headed over to her where she stood on the steps.

“I moved the cake to the laundry room.” she told her then offered her a cup of beer.

“Thank god.” Katie sighed as she took the cup from her. “Where’s Damon?”

“I think I saw him go outside with Alaric.” Elena answered.

“Happy birthday by the way.” Katie told Elena then looked at Caroline. “I’m gonna go see if Damon wants to dance.”

She found Damon and Alaric out back sitting on the brick half wall between the cement and the grass. “How was the internship at Duke?” Alaric asked when he saw her walk up. “Did you decide if med. school was right for you?”

“Yep. You’re looking at a future pediatrician.” She told him with a proud smile.

“My girl, the future doctor.” Damon said as he grabbed her hips and pulled her to stand between his knees as he pulled her in for a kiss.

“Hey, can you keep the p.d.a. to a minimum please?” Ric complained and Katie laughed as she moved to sit beside Damon on the brick wall.

Before she could ask Damon to dance Elena walked out, said “Drink”, grabbed the glass of bourbon out of Damon’s hand and took a large drink. “Jeremy’s smoking again.”

“Is his stash any good?” Damon asked, getting a slap on the arm from Katie.

“You’re an ass.” Elena told him with a pissed off look then turned her eyes to Alaric. “Talk to him, please. He looks up to you.” she put the glass in Damon’s hand spilling it everywhere.

“You’re screwed.” Damon told Alaric who just shook his head.

Katie nudged Damon with her shoulder to get his attention and he looked over at her. “Wanna dance?”

“Na, I’m good.” He told her then refilled his glass with the bottle that was sitting between him and Alaric.

Katie sighed in disappointment. “Okay then. I’m going to go get another beer.” She said more to herself than him as she hopped down off the wall and headed inside. She had gotten a refill and was headed to her room to change shoes because the ones she was wearing were impractically high heeled when she saw Caroline leaning on the wall watching Tyler and Slutty Sophie dancing as she drank straight from the bottle. “Would you two just hook up already and get it over with?” Katie asked, getting Caroline’s attention.

“He’s had all summer to do something about us.” Caroline told her. “Besides, it’s…complicated.”

“Okay,” Katie started as she walked up the steps to stand beside her and watch people dancing on the dance floor, “weren’t you the one that told him you didn’t want to go there after he kissed you?” Katie asked, getting a look from Caroline across her shoulder. “You are also the one that said and I quote, It’s easy. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy. Sex.”

Caroline laughed remembering that she told Elena the same thing when she first met Stefan. “That’s not exactly one of my best quotes.”

“Either way the ball is in your court now. Pick it up and take a shot.” Katie told her with a smile and a pat on her shoulder as she headed up to her room. She expected to find some random couple making out on her bed, but instead she found Stefan, sitting at her desk reading her journal. “Stefan?”

He looked up at her with an emotionless face then whooshed over to her and stabbed her in the neck with a vervain dart causing her body to grow weak. It affected her more than it should have considering she ran out of vervain two weeks into her trip and hadn’t had a chance to drink any since she got back. She stumbled to her bed and grabbed the post of the footboard, holding herself up. “Hello, Katie.”

“Why are you doing this?” She groaned.

“Because I need to send a clear message to my brother.” He told her as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What message?” she asked quietly.

“He and Elena need to let me go.” He told her in a matter of fact tone “Just like you need to let him go.”

“What?” she asked with a weak frown.

“I thought I heard you kiss Elijah before we went to Klaus.” He grabbed her journal and held it up. “I was right. You need to let Damon go. The longer you draw this out the more it’s going to hurt him.” He told her as he pushed buttons on his phone. Before he could hit the call button Damon walked into the room and Stefan grabbed Katie, holding her back to his chest with his arm wrapped around her chest. “Hello brother.”

“Stefan.” Damon greeted him worriedly. “What did you do to her?”

“Vervain.” He answered as if it was obvious.

“I swear if you hurt her…” Damon threatened.

“Now that I have your attention.” Stefan said, making Damon look back at him. “I need you to stop following me. It’s causing some…problems.”

Katie, growing weaker and weaker as the vervain spread through her system, couldn’t hold her head up any longer and it fell limply back onto Stefan’s shoulder. “With who, Klaus? I’m supposed to care what he thinks?” Unlike Katie, Damon could see the stake in Stefan’s hand and knew that if he made even one move toward her Stefan would stab her and possibly kill her.

“What you’re supposed to do…is let me go.” Stefan answered as Katie’s eye’s slipped shut, slowly losing consciousness.

“I’ve got a birthday girl downstairs that isn’t going to let me do that.” Damon answered.

Stefan stabbed her in the side with the thick stake making her wake up and scream. “I said…let me go.” He let Katie fall to the floor then whooshed out the window.

Damon pulled the stake out of her side making her scream again before she passed out. Damon sighed and picked her up in his arms. He laid her on her bed and brushed her hair out of her face. He tore a clean page from the notebook on her desk, wrote her a note and left it on her bedside table in case she woke up and he wasn’t there. Reluctantly he headed down stairs to make sure Stefan hadn’t gotten to Elena.

When Katie woke up she saw the note. “Went to find Elena.” She read then tossed the paper to the side as she stood up and walked over to her door. The party was still going on, but as she pulled the door open Damon and Elena’s voice’s hit her ears and she stopped. “All summer, every single time I came to you with a lead you made me feel like an idiot for having hope.” She heard Elena saying.

“You were an idiot. We both were.” Damon told her as Katie made her way toward Damon’s room.

“Tell me what you know.” Elena demanded and Katie could tell just by the tone of her voice that she was really upset with him as she should be.

“I know you need to get back to your party, Elena.” He told her dismissively.

“We’re supposed to be in this together. Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been tracking Klaus’ victims?” Elena told him.

“Because they’re not Klaus’ victims, Elena, they’re Stefan’s!” Damon snapped at her.

“What?”

“He’s left a trail of body parts up and down the eastern seaboard.” Damon told her, his voice agitated.

“No. You’re wrong.”

“I’ve seen it happen before. He’s flipped the switch, to full-blown ripper!” Damon practically yelled at her and Katie wanted to step in, but she knew Elena needed to hear what he was telling her.

“Stop it Damon.”

“No you stop, Elena. Stop looking for him. Stop waiting for him to come home. Just stop!” instead of standing out in the hallway eavesdropping Katie went back to her room to wait for them to get done arguing. “Stefan’s gone and he’s not coming back. Not in your lifetime.”

Katie didn’t know where Damon went from there, but he didn’t come to her. So she headed down to the party that was almost over and started compelling people with the line, “you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here”.

She was picking up the plastic cups and trash that lay around when she heard Damon destroying Stefan’s room. Deciding that it would be best if she didn’t interrupt she kept cleaning. She was picking up the study when Damon found her. “What are you doin’?”

“Cleaning. This place is disgusting.” She shoved a plate with half a piece of cake on it into the black trash bag she held in her hand.

“That’s what maids and compulsion are for.” He took the trash bag out of her hand and tossed it to the floor. “Come shower with me. You still have blood on your shirt.” His hands found her hips and pulled her into him. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since you and Elena started fighting about you keeping secrets from her all summer.” She answered as she lifted her eyes to his. “I guess I really could use a shower.”

TVDTVDTVD

“Are you okay?” Katie’s eyes didn’t look at his, but at her hand that rested on his chest, knowing their conversations like these usually went better without eye contact. “I heard you in Stefan’s room earlier.”

“It’s been a long time since Stefan and I have been as close as we have been recently. I screwed everything up.” He answered.

“You didn’t screw everything up.” She told him as she trailed her fingers down the center dip of his abs. “It wasn’t your fault Tyler bit you. I never thanked you for saving him and Caroline. I know you mainly did it to try to stop the sacrifice, but it still means a lot.”

“You need to stop…just stop trying to make me feel better about this.” Damon snapped at her. “Stefan is gone because of me.”

“Stefan may be gone and he may be off the rails, but he is alive.” Katie sat up and looked at him with insistent, stubborn eyes. “Had you not done what you did not knowing you would get bit, my friends would be dead. Dead, Damon. It sucks that Elena may never see Stefan again, but one of these days you and I will and well go Lexi 2.0 on his ass as soon as we do.”

“Katie, he vervained you and staked you in the side.” Damon argued.

“But he didn’t kill me. If he was really as gone as he wants us to believe he would have killed me.” She argued. “I will help you get him back even if it means I get staked in the side a thousand times over. Hope isn’t lost, Damon, not yet.”

“Either way I’m done chasing him.” Damon’s words made Katie breathe in a deep breath then led it out as she nodded.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie woke up from another Elijah dream to the smell of burning paper and sat up in bed with a sigh as she saw Damon throwing his research on Klaus and Stefan into the lit fireplace. “Are you sure you want to do that?” Katie said as she grabbed one of his shirts out of his dresser and pulled it over her head. “Maybe you should sleep on it. You might change your mind and decide to not give up on him.”

“I have slept on it, Katie. Last night, nothing’s changed and nothing is going to change. So Let it go.” He told her, not looking at her.

“Okay.” She sighed as she held her hands up in surrender then headed to her room to get dressed.

TVDTVDTVD

She was sitting on the couch in the living room reading a book when Damon walked over and sat down next to her. When she didn’t look up from her book he started walking his fingers up her hand and over her arm. She smiled but didn’t look at him so he grabbed the book out of her hand and tossed it across the room. She laughed as he grabbed her by her shoulders and moved her to straddle his lap. “Are you bored?” she asked as he slid his hands up her sides. He hummed as she started unbuttoning his shirt then grabbed his sides and caught his lips in a kiss.

He had moved her around to lie on the couch when his phone started ringing. He ignored it, but as soon as it was done ringing it started up again. So he pulled it out of his back pocket with an aggravated groan and answered it. “Bad time Ric.” Damon told him as Katie started kissing his neck, not paying attention to Alaric. “She what?” Damon’s change in tone made her stop and pull back to look at his eyes, wide with worry and aggravation. “Yeah we’re headed your way.” Damon told him as he got off of Katie and hung up the phone. “Stefan and Klaus are in the Smoky Mountains. Elena talked Alaric into going with her to find Stefan.” he told her as he headed to the door.

“Is she insane?” Katie asked as she stood up and rushed after him.

“She has to be because I’m about two seconds away from locking her in a padded cell.” He said as he walked over to his car and pulled the door open as Katie opened the passenger door. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going with you.” she told him as if it were obvious.

“No. Tonight is a full moon and we will be in werewolf country. It’s too dangerous.” He told her over the roof of the blue mustang.

“All the more reason for me to come with you.” she argued and he took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “I’m not going to just sit here and not help make sure my friend gets her stupid ass back here in one piece.”

“Fine, just…don’t do anything stupid.” He told her and jerked his head for her to get in the car.

TVDTVDTVD

When they found Alaric and Elena halfway up the mountain, Damon, still pissed at Elena, pushed her off the ledge she was standing on into the water below. “Damon, Katie, what…? How are you even here?” Elena asked, soaked from head to toe as she stood waist deep in the muddy water.

“Thanks for the tip, brother.” Damon told Alaric over his shoulder.

“You sold me out.” Elena asked Alaric with her hands held out to the sides over the water.

“You think I’d take you to a mountain range of werewolves on a full moon without backup?” Alaric asked, getting a pissed look from Elena.

“Just get out of the water so we can go home.” Katie told her with an aggravated tone.

“No.” Elena answered making Katie sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Get out of the water, Elena.” Damon told her with more force.

“No. If I get out of the water you’re going to make me go home.” She stated the obvious as Katie dropped her hand from her face and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, because I’m not an idiot like you.” Damon told her as he propped his arm up on the tree beside him.

“Right now, you’re both acting like idiots.” Alaric spoke up, over their arguing.

“You gave up on him, Damon.” Elena told him standing her ground in the water.

“I didn’t give up on him, Elena.” Damon told her as he walked a little close to the small ledge. “I faced reality. Now get out of the water.”

“No!” Elena argued as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What’s your big plan Elena?” Damon asked as he hopped down to her level. “You gonna walk into a campsite full of werewolves,” he started walking out into the water, “roast a marshmallow, and wait for Stefan to stop by?”

“My plan is to find him and help him.” Elena argued. Seeing as how this was going to take a while Katie walked over to a tree and leaned back against it, content to watch them argue. “This is the closest that we’ve been to him since he left. I’m not going home.”

“Klaus thinks you died when he broke the curse. That makes you safe.” Damon told her with a glare. “This?” he asked with his hands held out to the sides. “This is not safe.”

“I’m not leaving before we find him.” Elena told him.

“It’s a full moon tonight, Elena.” Damon told her really getting aggravated.

“Then we’ll find him before then.” Elena told him and as a moment of silence passed Katie realized something. Damon was actually listening to Elena and considering letting her stay. Normally Damon didn’t listen to anyone but himself, and on the rare occasion, Katie. “Damon, please.” Another moment passed Katie turned her eyes up at Alaric to see if he was noticing the same thing Katie was, that Elena had more power over Damon than they thought. He looked at her then down at Damon and Elena then back at her.

“Ok.” Damon caved. “Okay, but we are out of here before the moon is full and we’re wolf bait.”

“I promise.” Elena nodded.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Katie asked, jealous anger bubbling to the surface. “The plan was to bring her home not go on a hike in werewolf territory. I’ve lived in Irish werewolf territory as a human and I gotta say I’m not liking it any more as a vampire that could die from a single nip.”

“If you don’t want to be here, go home.” Elena snapped at her.

“Unfortunately I’m just as stubborn and stupid as you are, so no. I’m not going home unless you’re coming too.”

“Not happening.” Elena told her stubbornly.

“Then let’s stop wasting daylight.” Alaric spoke up with a look between the two girls.

They had been walking in silence for an hour when Alaric, who was walking behind Damon and Elena spoke up again. “So you lived in Ireland?” Katie knew he was trying to break the tension and she decided to let him.

“In the 1800’s, yeah.” She nodded.

“Why didn’t you just move out of werewolf territory?” he asked just to keep her talking.

“Because I was a struggling single mother with nowhere else to go.” She answered. “They killed my sister one full moon. Bit my son another, and one would have ripped me to shreds on another. Elijah saved us both.” She saw Damon look back at her at the mention of Elijah. “Before Elijah showed up I wasn’t even aware werewolves were a thing. I just thought there was an overpopulation of wolves.”

“How you doin?” Damon asked Elena when he noticed she was getting winded.

“Fine.” She told him aggravatedly.

“You know I can help you.” he told her.

“No thanks.” She replied as they climbed a small hill.

“Just one little whoosh.” He told her as he moved his arms out in front of him like superman.

“Yeah, with my luck, you’d drop me.” Elena said with a groan as she took a large step up.

Alaric looked at Katie who was still walking beside him. “You’re not whooshing me.”

Katie laughed with a shake of her head at the thought of how awkward it would be to have to grab him and whoosh him that far. She loved him as a teacher and friend of friends, but it would have to be an emergency for that to happen.

They had been walking for what felt like forever when Alaric said, “We’ve got about a mile left.”

“And the sun isn’t far from setting.” Katie told them, getting antsy.

“I can see that, Katie.” Elena told her with an attitude. “The moon doesn’t reach its apex for a while. We have time.”

Damon’s walking slowed, sensing someone else around them so Katie opened her ears and heard someone’s shambled footsteps and beating heart. She was about to say something when a guy in jeans and a red flannel shirt over a grey t-shirt stepped out of the woods. He had blood on his face, dripping from his eyes and down his throat and his t-shirt. When he saw them he looked up and said, “Vampire”.

In a flash he grabbed Damon, spun him around and pinned him to a nearby tree. Damon was keeping him from biting him with his hand on his throat. In a flash Katie grabbed the werewolf guy around his waist and slammed him on the ground. She pinned him down with her body and placed her converse clad foot under his chin to keep him from biting her. “Someone wanna help me out here?” Katie asked, surprised that the werewolf seemed to be on the verge of overpowering her when most werewolves couldn’t take a vampire out of wolf form.

Alaric grabbed a wolfsbane dart out of his backpack and stuck the guy in the neck with it, weakening him enough that Katie could stand up, but she kept her foot on the guy's neck as Damon and Alaric started tying him up. “Let me guess. Hybrid.” Alaric said getting a look from all three of them. She only moved her foot when Damon tapped her ankle then picked the guy up from the ground. After using everything they had the guy was tied to a tree, but still managing to fight. Nothing seemed to be holding him down for long. “Alright, that’s the last of the vervain.” Rick said as he tied vervain soaked ropes around the guy. “We don’t have enough stuff to hold him. I don’t think we’re gonna make that ridge before the full moon.”

“If we can get him to talk we don’t have to.” Elena was reaching her hand out to the hybrid guy when he took in a deep breath, lifted his head and screamed out as his neck started twitching, the sickening sound of breaking bones filled the air around him.

“Is he turning?” Damon asked with a frown as he looked up at the setting sun.

“It’s impossible. It’s still daylight.” Elena said as she too turned her eyes up to the sky.

“Tell him that.” Alaric popped off.

“There aren’t supposed to be werewolves out here until the moon is full.” Elena said freaking out as Damon placed his hands on the hybrid’s shoulders keeping him pinned to the tree.

“Those ropes and us are nothing to a wolf, much less a hybrid with wolf and vampire strength.” Katie told Elena and Alaric as the hybrid leaned forward trying to bite Damon.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Elena said and Katie breathed a small sigh of relief that Elena was starting to see the light on this whole adventure of hers. “Damon, we’ve gotta get out of these mountains, now!” she shoved Damon and he took his hands off of the hybrid as they all made a run for it.

Katie wished with everything in her that she could just whoosh away to safety and a dark part of her thought about it, but she couldn’t leave Elena and Alaric behind. So she stuck with the group. The sun had completely set when Elena tripped over a tree root and they all stopped and turned to look at her to see a wolf staring her down where she sat on the ground.

Katie’s eyes looked at the wolf, then Damon who knew what she was thinking just by looking at her eyes. Damon mouthed the word no at her. She was about to whistle at the wolf to get it’s attention before she ran when Damon said, “Here doggie, doggie.” and zipped away with the wolf on his trail.

“Son of a bitch, Damon.” Katie cursed him as Elena stood up.

“Come on. Let’s keep moving.” Alaric waved his hand for them to follow him.

“We can’t leave Damon.” Elena argued.

“He can handle himself. Let’s move.” Alaric argued.

Elena looked at Katie. “Go after him.”

“I can’t Elena. So let’s go before I throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you down kicking and screaming.” Katie told her as she put her hand on Elena’s back and gave her a small push to get moving.

“I’m the reason he’s out here, Katie.” Elena argued.

“I’m the reason he’s out here.” Alaric snapped at them. “I told them where we were and I’m telling you to keep moving!” Elena hesitated, but started walking down the mountain.

Katie was leaning against Alaric’s car waiting for Damon, seriously considering going to find him when he came out of the woods and she whooshed over to him. “Are you okay, were you bit?” she asked, getting an aggravated look from him.

“I’m fine, Katie Cat.” He sighed as they started walking toward Alaric and Elena who were getting out of the car as they neared them.

“Damon, are you okay? Did you-” Elena asked as she rushed over to him.

“I’m fine, bite free. Get back in the car, please.” Damon told her as he put his hand on her chest and pushed her back.

“Can you just give me a minute to appreciate that you’re not dead?” she asked.

“I’ll give you ten seconds, 9, 8...” he grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her around. “Hey Ric, did you happen to see where I parked my car?” he pushed her toward her car.

“Damon, stop being such a caveman.” Elena complained as he opened her door and pushed her into the car then shut it behind her.

TVDTVDTVD

“What happened out there?” Katie asked as they headed into the boarding house, Katie walking behind Damon. “You haven’t said a word since we got in the car.” He turned and looked at her with wide pissed off eyes. “You’re mad at me. Why am I not surprised?”

“Probably because you know I’m pissed at you for even thinking about letting that wolf chase you. Do you have some sort of death wish?” he asked as he walked closer and closer to her. “If you keep putting yourself in harm's way you’re going to end up dead and you know it.”

“What I know,” she started as she took a step back, “is that my best friend, my family, was in danger and I will die before I let my family die knowing there was something I could have done to prevent it! If you call that a death wish then fine. I have a death wish!” Damon just stared at her.

“No. I refuse to let you get yourself killed just because you think you will come back in god knows how many years.” He told her with rage in his eyes.

Katie took a deep breath and held it as she placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the ornate rug that covered the floor. Those three words, I refuse to. They started ninety percent of the sentences that her grandfather had ever said to her and in that moment, in the tone of voice Damon was using with her, she got jerked back in time and heard her grandfather’s voice in her head. Then once again heard her first father’s voice telling her ‘you will do this’ or ‘you will not do that’. “Damon,” she let the breath out and looked up at him, “I have been told all my life, in both of my lives, what I can and can’t, will and will not do. Please don’t be another one of those people who refuse to let me do something. What I do with my life, my choices, are mine to make.”

Damon didn’t say a word as he walked to the front door, opened it, walked out and slammed it behind him causing Katie to jump and the pictures on the wall to shake. With a heavy sigh she dragged herself upstairs to her room and took a shower. When she was done she threw on some cheer shorts and a tank top then sat down at her desk and let her hair fall around her shoulders in loose wet ringlets. She grabbed a pen and opened her journal to a fresh page.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I love Damon, I do, but when he says things to me like he did tonight it makes me wonder if why I put up with it. When we first got together it was just for the fun of it. Then I saw how good of a person he could be and I fell for him. Even though I knew we wouldn’t last…I fell. He’s fun to be with, but here lately it feels more like we spend more time fighting to have a relationship than we do actually having one. When we’re not fighting about Katherine or Elijah we’re finding something else to argue about. I’ve never actually seen a functioning relationship, but I’m pretty damn sure this is not what one is supposed to be like.” She lifted the pen from the paper, debating on if she even wanted to write down what she was thinking and feeling. If she wrote it down, she’d have to accept it and it would become all too real. But she forced herself to put pen back to paper. “I’ve been dreaming about Elijah. I know it’s no longer the spell making me have dreams. It’s me. It’s my subconscious pushing me to be with him. To follow my heart and stop pushing back everything I feel for him. I love Damon. He has been with me through everything and we’ve been through so much, but it feels like we are slipping apart and I don’t know what to do.” Getting aggravated she threw the pen on the desk and slammed the journal shut.

She thought she heard something and she followed the sound to Damon’s room where he was getting out of the shower. “What?” Damon asked as he wrapped the towel around him.

“Where’d you go?” she asked timidly.

“I needed some fresh air.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying to me right?” she asked as she leaned on the door frame.

“I went to Elena’s okay?” he told her then turned to his dresser and pulled the drawer open.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“Because I know how jealous of her you can be.” He told her in a choppy tone without making eye contact.

Katie bit her lips closed and nodded. “Okay. Goodnight I guess.” She went to her room, flipped off the light switch, slid into bed and closed her eyes. The image of Damon on his deathbed filled her mind as his words echoed through her head, “Thank you for choosing me. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Feeling the stabbing pain of her heart breaking, she rolled over and pressed her face into her pillow then covered her head with the second one she never used and sandwiched her head between then as she let the tears flow.

On any other night, Damon would have come to her in the middle of the night, claiming that he couldn’t sleep without her, but tonight…he didn’t.

[nerdythebard]

#11: Gilan [Ranger's Apprentice]

Hello there!

NO! ...Not yet. One day, maybe.

Anyway, today we're building Gilan, a Rangers from the fantastic Ranger's Apprentice series by John Flanagan. This request was made by my best friend, @iximaz. They sure know I love challenges. Now, let's see if I can surprise them with this build.

Next Time: The Question... the First Question, the oldest question in the universe, that must never be answered, hidden in plain sight!

Now, what do we need to make Gilan work?

Silent & Deadly: Every Ranger's ultimate party trick. They are able to move in complete silence and blend into the environment so well, people tell stories about their supernatural powers... Rangers are basically Medieval ninjas, and Gilan was stated to be the best of them all at Unseen Movement.

Look at my Horse: All Rangers have a special, almost familiar-like bond with their mounts. We shall give Gilan a horse, or at the very least skills to obtain and maintain a horse.

Brains & Brawn: Rangers are trained in a large variety of topics, ranging (heh) from survival and archery to cooking and sewing. We need to be a little skill monkey.

---

Gilan is a Human (although a Tabaxi would also work if you're feeling adventurous). As always, pick a Variant option, it's just better. We get a +1 to two abilities of our choice, go for Dexterity and Wisdom. We also learn Common and one language of our choice, one skill of our choice (Investigation), and we can take a feat. Skulker works fantastically for sneaky Rangers; we can hide in lightly obscured places, missing an attack doesn't reveal our hiding spot, and we don't get a disadvantage on Perception checks in dim light.

Gilan is the son of one of Araluen's most respected knights, but he himself doesn't seem to use his position and family privilege enough to give him the Noble background. Instead, let's focus on his Ranger career and make him the Folk Hero. This background gives us proficiency in Animal Handling and Survival, proficiency with land vehicles (carriages, wagons, etc.) and one set of artisan's tools (woodcarver's tools let us create our own arrows), and we get the Rustic Hospitality feature; if we're good to common folk, we can find a place to sleep or hide in their settlements.

ABILITY SCORES

Dexterity is our highest score, we're sneaky and we're accurate with a bow. Follow that up with Constitution, we need endurance for long travels. Wisdom is next, almost all of our knowledge is practical street-smarts and survival techniques.

Next is Charisma, we've managed to charm at least one lucky lady, who knows who else fell for Gilan (fan-fiction writers do!). Strength is a little lower than I want it to be, especially since we are trained in swordsmanship. Finally, we're dumping Intelligence - we're not stupid, we just need other abilities more.

CLASS

Level 1 - Ranger: Unsurprisingly, we start with Ranger (Revised). Our Hit Die is a d10, we get [10 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiency with light armour, medium armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. Standard leather armour sounds like the right choice for a Ranger, and we can't forget about a bow, daggers, throwing knives (here: darts) and - in Gilan's case - a sword. Our saving throws are Strength and Dexterity, and we get to choose three class skills: let's go for Insight, Perception, and Stealth.

We start off this class by choosing our Favoured Enemy: beasts, fey, humanoids, monstrosities, or undead. We get +2 to damage rolls against our chosen type, as well as an advantage on Survival check when tracking them and Intelligence check when recalling information about them. We also learn one language of our choice.

The Natural Explorer feature grants us several benefits when exploring the wilderness:

We no longer suffer from difficult terrain;

We have an advantage on initiative rolls;

On our first combat turn, we have an advantage against a creature that hadn't made its move yet.

Additionally, if we're travelling for longer than 1 hour:

Difficult terrain doesn't slow the group's travel time;

The group cannot become lost, unless via magical means;

The group cannot be surprised, even if engaged in an activity (foraging, tracking, etc.);

If we move by ourselves, we can move stealthily at a normal pace;

When we forage, we find twice as much food;

While tracking other creatures, we also learn their exact number, size, and how long ago they passed through the area we're currently at.

Level 2 - Ranger: At this level, we get to choose our Fighting Style, and Archery is a no-brainer, it's the preferred combat option of all RA Rangers. We get a +2 bonus to all attack rolls we make with our ranged weapons.

Although RA Rangers don't use magic, D&D Rangers get access to Spellcasting. Wisdom is our spellcasting ability, we get no cantrips, and we begin with two 1st-level spell slots:

Beast Bond is a divination spell that creates an empathic bond between us and a beast of our choice, like a horse. For 10 minutes (concentration), we can communicate telepathically with our beast, and it is able to reply with simple emotions and concepts that we understand. The beast also gets an advantage on attack rolls against any creature within 5 feet of us. Just remember the password.

Hunter's Mark makes us focus our attention on a particular target. For 1 hour (concentration), you deal extra 1d6 damage to the marked creature, and we have an advantage on Perception and Survival checks related to tracking and finding it. If the marked target dies before the spell ends, we can use a bonus action to mark a new creature.

Level 3 - Ranger: We gain the Primeval Awareness feature, which lets us communicate simple concepts and ideas with beasts around us. We learn of the beast's emotional state, mood, and intent, which might save us from a fight.

Additionally, we can spend 1 minute concentrating, and detect if our Favoured Enemy type is somewhere within 5 miles of us. We learn the enemy numbers, presence, and the general direction from us.

This is also where we pick our subclass, our Ranger Conclave. For quiet and stealthy Rangers, who keep mostly to the shadows and avoid open conflicts, the Gloom Stalker Conclave works best. First, we learn the Disguise Self spell, which lets us change our appearance for 1 hour. We also gain the Dread Ambusher feature, we can get our Wisdom modifier added to our Initiative roll. At the start of our first turn, our ground speed increases by 10 feet and lasts so until the end of that turn. If we make an Attack during that turn, we can make one additional Attack. If that attack hits, the target takes extra 1d8 damage. Finally, we get Umbral Sight, which grants us 60 feet of darkvision. We are also invisible to creatures with darkvision if we're moving in the darkness.

We gain one more 1st-level spell: Snare utilizes 25 feet of rope to create a concealed trap that lasts for 8 hours. A creature that walks into the radius of the trap must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw, or be hoisted 3 feet in the air and restrained until the spell ends.

Level 4 - Ranger: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement! Let's put two points into Dexterity, to get it maxed out ASAP.

Level 5 - Ranger: From our subclass, we get the Extra Attack. This lets us attack twice during one Attack action.

We get another spell from our Gloom Stalker Magic table: Rope Trick uses at least 60 feet of rope to create an extradimensional space that fits up to eight Medium-sized creatures for 1 hour. Attacks and spells cannot reach the space, but anyone inside it can observe the surrounding area.

We also unlock 2nd-level spells: Pass Without Trace enhances our stealth skills for 1 hour (concentration). For the duration, each creature within 30 feet from us that we choose gets a +10 to their Stealth checks and cannot be traced via magical means.

Level 6 - Rogue: Jumping ships for the rest of the build. When multiclassing into Rogue, we gain proficiencies with light armour (got it already), thieves' tools, and we get to choose one class skill; let's get Acrobatics.

1st-level Rogues begin with Expertise. We select two skills and double our proficiency bonus (NOT modifier) for checks involving those. Stealth and Perception are the skills every RA Ranger must hone. We also learn Thieves' Cant, a system of phrases/gestures/sounds used by Rogues in their line of work. Additionally, the Sneak Attack feature gives us extra 1d6 damage to any creature we have an advantage against. We don't have to get an advantage to roll Sneak Attack if another enemy of our target is within 5 feet of it, or the target is incapacitated.

Level 7 - Rogue: At this level, we gain Cunning Action, which is a series of actions we can use as a bonus action on our turn. These include Dash, Disengage, Hide, and Aim (if you include Unearthed Arcana: Class Feature Variants).

Level 8 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack die increases to 2d6. We also get to choose our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, there is no Ranger-like subclass for a Rogue, but I did mention that RA Rogues were basically ninjas, right? The Scout Archetype got us covered! This stealth-and-survival subclass gives us two features at the start: Skirmisher makes us very difficult to pin down, letting us move up to half of our ground speed when the enemy ends its turn within 5 feet of us, and not provoke an opportunity attack. Survivalist gives us proficiency in Nature and Survival skills. Since we already have the latter, our proficiency bonus is doubled for Survival checks.

Level 9 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Once again, let's increase our Dexterity to get it to 20.

Level 10 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack die once again increases, this time to 3d6. At this level, we gain Uncanny Dodge. When an attacker that we can see hits us with an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage.

Level 11 - Rogue: We get another Expertise option. Once again, we have a choice between two skills, or one skill and our thieves' tools. Let's go for Insight and Acrobatics.

Level 12 - Rogue: At this level, we get Evasion. This incredibly useful feature allows us to nimble our way out of some AoE effects, such as the Fireball spell. When we are forced to make a Dexterity saving throw that would result in taking half damage on a successful one, we take no damage is we pass and half damage if we fail.

Our Sneak Attack die also improves to 4d6.

Level 13 - Rogue: Another level, another ASI. This time, let's raise our Intelligence by two points, to get rid of the negative modifier.

Level 14 - Rogue: We get another subclass upgrade. Superior Mobility increases our ground speed by 10 feet.

Our Sneak Attack die becomes 5d6.

Level 15 - Rogue: Once again, we get an ASI. Let's put one point into Strength and one into Intelligence.

Level 16 - Rogue: Our skill increase with Reliable Talent. From this point onwards, we cannot roll lower than 10 when making checks for skills we are proficient in.

Our Sneak Attack die becomes 6d6.

Level 17 - Rogue: Time for the final ASI of the build, to round up the odd numbers, raise up Strength and Intelligence once again.

Level 18 - Rogue: This time, we get the final subclass upgrade of the build. Ambush Master grants us an advantage on our Initiative rolls. Additionally, the first creature we hit during our first combat round becomes easier to hit; all attacks against it are made with an advantage until the end of our next round.

Our Sneak Attack die becomes 7d6.

Level 19 - Rogue: Our senses are so sharp at this point, we don't even need sight. With Blindsense, we can detect creatures within 10 feet of us, even if they are hiding or invisible.

Level 20 - Rogue: Our capstone is Rogue 15 and the Slippery Mind feature, which grants us proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

Finally, our Sneak Attack die becomes 8d6.

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And that's Gilan the Ranger. Let's see what we created:

First of all, we're an absolute legend when it comes to unseen movement and sneaking around. With the Skulker feat, Expertise in Stealth, Pass Without Trace spell, and Reliable Talent we cannot roll lower than 27! We have darkvision and blindsense, which is rare for a human, and we can hide from other creatures with darkvision. We have a large repertoire of skills we're proficient with, and with a +7 to initiative, we're definitely be somewhere in the front of turn order.

Unfortunately, our sword skills are pretty neglected, even with a +7 to attack and damage rolls. Extra Attack helps out slightly, though. Our AC is 16, and we have 149 Hit Points on average. Our Intelligence and Charisma are also pretty low, so saving throws on those abilities might be tricky.

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Anyway, that's it for Gilan. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll see you next time... for a very... difficult build.

- Nerdy out!