#let it be known that hannah's brushes have truly been changing my life

[jackshiccup]

*yurifies your hijack* perks of having a gf who can motorcycle

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 58

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Sunlight shining in through the curtains of the two windows of their bedroom attached to the nursery pulled Katie from sleep and as her eyes fluttered open they landed on Klaus’s hand on hers that rested on his chest. Her head was laying on the shoulder of his arm that was wrapped around her back. She thought he was asleep, but when she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting his scent wash over her like a comforting wave, the sound of his sleepy chuckle hit her ears and a blush colored her cheeks. However, her embarrassment faded when he turned his head and buried his nose in her soft auburn waves, breathing her in. A bright sleepy smile lit up her face as she looked up at him and he gave her a gentle smile back as he took his hand off of hers to brush a wave behind her ear. “Good morning, Big Bad Wolf.”

“Good," he paused as he whooshed around, now hovering over her from the side, "is a vast understatement, Little Phoenix.” he started trailing kisses down her neck. “Waking up with you in my arms feels bloody magnificent.” he told her and she laughed as he kissed his way to the hollow of her neck then down to the valley of her breasts. When he cupped both of them in his hands over her champagne, satin pajama top she took in a deep breath and bit her lips closed to mute her moan. A chuckle left his lips when he looked up from her chest to her eyes and he saw the veins under them. Once again he drank in the sight then gave her a crooked smile as his hands kneaded her breasts making her bite her lip again.

“Are you trying to torture me?” she asked breathily.

“My touch is torture?” he asked playing dumb.

“It is when I know it can’t lead to more for fear of waking our daughter.” she answered, a choked moan leaving her lips when he pinched her nipples between his thumb and pointer finger.

Knowing she was right, Klaus sighed and rolled off of her. “Fine."

Katie rolled over, straddling him as she looked down at him with a flirty twinkle in her eyes. "Just because we can't make love doesn't mean we can't fool around. How else will I learn to be quiet?" Klaus sat up and wrapped his arms around her making her laugh when he bit her neck with a growl.

After thirty minutes of making out and giggling like a couple of carefree teenagers, Klaus took her left hand into his, looking at the emerald cut diamond on her finger. “Tell me, have you thought about what you want our wedding to be like? Venue, color scheme, date, etcetera…”

“Venue...anywhere but Saint Ann's. Color scheme...something simple like cream with one pop of color, maybe blue or red?” she asked, getting a look from him that said he was considering it. "And a date…" She sighed and took his hand in hers, absentmindedly playing with his long fingers.. "I don't know...when your douchebag brother is no longer capable of crashing the wedding in an attempt to murder our flower girl?"

"How about dark azure blue as the accent color and we shoot for a week after whenever Finn is taken care of?" He asked with a Hopeful look.

"Both sound perfect to me." She agreed.

"Really?” he asked and she noticed his surprise. “I would have thought you’d want a longer engagement.”

“Why would I want to put off what I’m sure will be one of the happiest days of my life?” she asked. “I want to marry you as soon as it is safe to and two vital purchases have been made.” he gave her a curious look. “A wedding band for you and a dress for me.

“Speaking of…” he started as he got out of bed, went to the wardrobe in the room and pulled out a white, cotton garment bag with Kleinfeld Bridal written in the top right corner of it.

“You didn’t.” Katie told him with a tilt of her head as she got out of bed.

“I did.” he answered as he hung it on the open door of the wardrobe. “Of course that was before you changed your mind about it.”

“Oh no.” Katie pressed the palm of her hand to her head then looked up at him. “I am so sorry you went through all that trouble for nothing.”

“It was no trouble, I assure you.” he told her and she dropped her hand from her face. He motioned to the dress bag. “Look at it, make sure it’s the right one.”

As she grabbed the zipper pull he turned his back, still not looking at it just in case she changed her mind once she saw it in person. When the zipper was undone she pushed the garment bag aside revealing ivory satin, lace and swarovski crystals along the sweetheart neckline. “How did you find it?” Katie asked as she grabbed the pull and zipped the bag back up.

“I called Caroline.” he said as if it should have been obvious.

“She wasn’t suspicious as to why you wanted my dream dress when I wasn’t alive to wear it?” she asked as she walked around him and slipped her hands up his chest to hold the sides of his neck.

“I told her that I had planned on asking you to marry me and wanted to put it in your coffin with your ashes.” he answered. “She called me creepy, but gave up the information nonetheless.”

Katie laughed at Caroline calling him creepy as Klaus wrapped his arms around her waist. “Please tell me you don’t actually still have my coffin.” Katie told him, remembering that at one time she had her own, custom built antique white coffin.

“I don’t. It burned with the plantation.” he answered then grabbed her hand and pulled her back over to the bed with him. “Speaking of Caroline, that reminds me, there is something you should know about a friend of yours.” Katie gave him a curious look as he sat down in bed, leaning back against the headboard and she straddled his lap. “When I called your father to tell him about your death he asked if Nate had anything to do with it." Her curious look turned to a frown. "As it turns out Nate was a descendent of your half brother from your first life.”

“I didn’t have a half brother.” she said with a confused shake of her head.

“Bradley was going through some old family history files when he saw a familiar face. Nathanial Cian Easton.” Klaus answered. “Bradley’s files started with your first father at the top of the tree then followed three branches from him. Yours and your sisters from your mother and the youngest, a son, born by a woman named Nyarai.” Katie narrowed her eyes in thought as she shook her head before a look of realization struck her like a light bulb going off over her head. She slid off of Klaus and leaned back against the headboard beside him, her fingertips pressed to her lips. A few minutes passed before she looked up at Klaus. “I’m guessing you knew her.”

Katie nodded as her hand fell to her lap. "She was Mother's lady’s maid." Katie answered in shock. "A few years after my sister was born, Nyarai had a son. Everyone speculated who the father could have been because she was unwed and was never seen with any suitors." Katie sat up on her knees and looked at Klaus. "I guess Father decided Mother was incapable of producing a male heir." Klaus placed his hand over hers.

"Bradley feared, given the hatred your family harbored for the curse Hannah put on the women of your family, Nate’s line included, that he may have turned to put you down if you ever became fully reincarnated." Katie's eyes dropped to the comforter that she pulled up over herself, hating that one simple soul linking spell could do so much damage to a family. Klaus cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her head. "It was never Nate’s intention to kill you." He reassured her. “I never would have let him near you if I thought, even for a second, that he meant to bring you harm. He cared about you.” Katie was thinking about how things might have been different if she had known that Nate was her blood family, when Hope’s happy morning squeals filled the air. “It would appear as though our daughter is awake.” Klaus said with a smile in his voice as he took his arm out from around her waist.

“And she’s in a good mood.” Katie added as they both slipped from the bed. “Most mornings she wakes up crying.” While Katie threw on a satin robe Klaus went to their daughter and picked her up.

“Good morning, Princess.” he told her, getting a happy squeal from Hope in return as he walked back into the bedroom. He was opening his mouth to say something when a knock on their door cut him off.

Katie walked over and pulled it open. “Good morning.” Rebekah greeted them as she walked into the room then turned to Katie. “You never gave me an answer about the whole maid of honor thing.”

“And you feel an answer is important enough to warrant bursting into our room?” Klaus asked and Rebekah looked at him over her shoulder where he stood in the doorway to Hope’s room and rolled her eyes then looked back at Katie.

“Regardless of your answer I’d still like to take you dress shopping today. Seeing as you have no interest in wearing the one of a kind dress Nik hunted down for you.” Rebekah told her, making Katie give her a small smile. “We'll make a proper girls day out of it.”

“I appreciate the thought, but shouldn’t you be trying to find a way to bring Kol back like you promised?” Katie asked.

“If anyone can multitask it’s me.” Rebekah replied. “And that’s still not an answer.”

Klaus started laughing and Katie looked past Rebekah to him. “You know the longer you make her wait, the more persistent she will become.”

Katie thought about it, Caroline was miles away, unable to help her plan her wedding like a maid of honor should, but Rebekah was right there practically begging for the job. Not to mention it was starting to feel like she and Rebekah truly were sisters. “I suppose it is possible to have two maids of honor.” Katie thought to herself. “Rebekah, would you do me the massive favor of being my maid of honor?”

“Really?” Rebekah asked with wide, excited eyes.

"It would be kind of a co-maid of honor situation because I promised Caroline a long time ago that if I ever got married that she'd be my maid of honor. She, Bonnie and Elena will always be lifelong friends of mine but," Katie walked over to her and grabbed Rebekah's hands "over these past few months you haven't just been there for Hope, you were there for me too. You didn't let me shut down and push you away or spiral or hyperfocus to keep from letting too much in at one time...You are my best friend now."

"And sometime very soon we'll be sisters." Rebekah told her with a smile then engulfed her in a hug making Katie laugh before she let her go. “Meet me in the courtyard in an hour.” she told her as she walked to the still open bedroom door then turned back and gave Klaus a cheeky look that was totally Rebekah-like even in the new body she was hopping a ride in for the time being. “Or do you plan on making her moan your name at top volume again? Because if that’s the case I��ll take Hope to the other side of the house and give the two of you a few hours longer.”

“Rebekah!” Katie grabbed a throw pillow off of the bench at the end of the bed and threw it at her head, but she easily dodged it with a laugh.

“Was that a yes or a no? I can’t tell.” Rebekah asked.

“That was an, it’s none of your bloody business.” Katie answered with a wide eyed look. Rebekah just shook her head with a smile on her face as she shut the door.

“Well, I never thought I’d see that.” Klaus said, making Katie turn to look at him, still holding his content daughter.

“See what?” Katie asked as she walked over and wrapped her arms around both of them.

“My sister and my finacée, besties.” he answered with a toothy smile.

“Would you prefer us go back to the love, hate relationship we had before?” Katie asked with a playful look.

“Nope, I actually quite like it when the people I love get along with one another.” he told her before Hope squealed and smacked Katie on the chest making them both smile down at her.

“So it seems the king and his princess will have the palace all to themselves today.” Katie commented as she grabbed Hope’s hand and Hope wrapped her little fingers around one of Katie’s. “Is that okay with you?” she asked and she looked up at Klaus. “You’ve never had her all to yourself before.”

“Rest assured she will be perfectly and completely spoiled rotten while you are away.” he gave her a closed lipped smile that showed off his dimples, making her smile back. “You deserve a day without our daughter on your hip just as much as Hope and I deserve to get to know one another.”

“I would say if you need anything call me, but I no longer have a phone to reactivate. It got blown up along with the pictures of us and old voicemails from you that were on it.” she told him with a disappointed look.

“That is why…” he set Hope on her play mat then went to his bedside table, “I got this as soon as you agreed to come home.” he turned back to her and handed her a new cell phone. “All of your photos and voicemails were stored in the cloud and have been downloaded on it as well as all of your contacts. So you can call your Mystic Falls friends and inform them of your miraculous rise from the dead whenever you wish.”

She turned on the phone to see he had set her background image to a picture of the painting he had bought for her on their first date that now hung in the bedroom of their quarters, making her smile at the memory of that day. “You’re awesome.” she told him as she tucked her phone into her back pocket then pecked him on the lips. “I was actually hoping you could help me call Caroline this time.” Katie told him as she glanced at Hope to make sure she was still on her mat. “I don’t want my voice to be the first one she hears when she answers the phone.”

“What would you like me to say?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, assuming that she would want his name to pop up on Caroline’s phone instead of Katie’s.

“I don’t know, you’re you, be creative.” she shrugged.

He smirked at her as he pulled up Caroline’s contact information and hit call. “Hello?” Carline’s sleepy voice answered.

“Collect call from,” Klaus started, then held the phone out to Katie for her to say her name.

“Your very best friend in the whole wide world.” Katie filled in the blank.

“Do you accept the charges?” Klaus finished.

Katie could hear the rustle of blankets and the springs of a mattress popping as Caroline moved around in her bed. “Klaus, if this is a prank it’s not funny.”

Katie laughed. “It’s not a prank, Care.”

“Katie?” Caroline’s voice perked up. “How are you alive? Klaus said that the witches killed you and your baby. Bonnie saw you on the other side.” Caroline asked as Katie took the phone and put it to her ear.

“Well technically they did, so he wasn’t lying about that, and they did try to Kill our daughter, but we stopped them. Her name is Hope, by the way.” Katie answered. “I had her blood in my system when they killed me, so I came back."

“You’re a vampire again?” Caroline asked and Katie hummed a positive answer. “That’s why you disappeared when Bonnie saw you, because you were no longer on the other side.” Katie once again hummed a yes. “So why did he tell me the two of you were dead?”

“The witches who took her and tried to kill her were acting on the behalf of Esther. It was her decree that Hope never be allowed to live. So we let everyone believe the witches had succeeded and went into hiding. It was the only way to keep Hope safe.” Katie explained. “But Esther is no longer a problem, so we’re no longer in hiding.” Katie decided to leave out the part about Finn to make the explanations shorter. Caroline was quiet as she processed everything. “I am so sorry we had to lie to you guys again.”

“Katie, seriously?” Caroline asked. “You were protecting your daughter, I’m not mad. Well, I mean, I’m a little mad, but I’ll get over it.”

Klaus picked up Hope. “I’m going to go feed her.” he told Katie who nodded and watched him walk out of their room with Hope in his arms, talking to her in a sweet voice as he did.

“I can not picture Klaus holding a baby, much less feeding one.” Caroline commented having heard him.

“He’s actually settling into fatherhood a lot better than I thought he would, all things considered.” Katie replied with a soft smile on her face. “How’s everyone back home?”

“Mystic Falls as a whole is flourishing considering vampires can’t cross into its borders.” Caroline answered.

“What?” Katie asked with a squished up face.

“A bunch of crazy Travellers put a spell on the town that cancels out all spirit magic that enters it. So if we go inside, the magic keeping us alive disappears and we’ll die of whatever killed us the first time.” Caroline explained. “So for example if you were to pass through the border, your throat would be slit and you’d be dead, permanently this time.”

“That sucks.” Katie said, not knowing what else she could say to something that sounded so crazy

“Tell me about it.” Caroline scoffed. “I’m guessing Klaus told you about Bonnie and Damon?” she asked and Katie hummed, sadness at never seeing their faces again, washed over her and her eyes watered. “Well, Damon’s back, but Bonnie’s not. Apparently Bonnie’s grams put them in a prison world for some murderous psychopath named Kai before the other side was destroyed. Damon made it, but Kai messed up the spell before Bonnie could get out. We don’t know if Kai killed her or if she’s still just stuck in there with him.”

“I really don’t know what to say to all of that.” Katie admitted as she placed her fingertips to her lips.

“And on top of all of that, after Damon disappeared instead of grieving like a normal person, Elena started taking some kind of witchy concoction that let her see him. The more she took it the more blood thirsty she got so she asked Alaric to compel away all her memories of her and Damon. Now Damon’s going crazy trying to get her to remember their relationship.” Caroline practically ranted.

“Poor Damon.” Katie sighed as she pushed her hair back out of her face. “I don’t care what happened, if Klaus ever died there is no way in hell I would ask Rebekah or Elijah to compel away all of my memories of us. No matter how much it would hurt.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but yeah...poor Damon.” Caroline agreed.

“So what about everyone else, Stefan, Matt, Jeremy, your mom, Bradley…” she listed the first people that came to her mind.

“Well, after Damon and Bonnie disappeared Stefan just left and started over somewhere else, but now that Damon’s back, so is he.” Caroline answered. “Matt is...still Matt. Jeremy is dealing with losing Bonnie in usual Jeremy style.”

“So booze and pot?” Katie asked.

Caroline hummed a positive answer. “Mom's still mom. She and your dad are still going strong even though he can’t go home.” Caroline got quiet for a second. “Oh and Tyler’s back. He’s human now and has turned over a new leaf, he’s even started going to college at Whitmore, but we’re not back together. No matter how much he apologises I just can’t be with someone who would try to kill your unborn baby.”

“That’s...good to hear.” Katie commented. “The, not giving him a second chance, part. I could kind of care less about anything other than he’s dropped the whole revenge thing against Klaus.”

“Hey, why’d you call your dad Bradley instead of Dad?” Caroline asked, sounding like she thought she might be overstepping somehow.

“Probably because after I left Mystic Falls he never once called to check in or even sent a single, “Hey, how’s it going?” text.” Katie answered. “If he were any kind of dad he would have.”

“You know that’s a two way street, right?” Caroline asked. “You could have called him just as easily as he could have called you.”

“He’s the one who abandoned me and left me with Grandfather. I don’t think it should be my job to extend the olive branch even more than I already have by giving him a chance in the first place.” Katie answered.

“Fair point.” Caroline agreed.

“So where’s Elena, aren’t you two sharing a dorm room?” Katie asked, a little confused.

“We did, but I...dropped out.” Caroline answered. “I couldn’t balance college and trying to find a way to fix what the travellers did to our home.”

“I’m sorry.” Katie said with a frown. Caroline had been so excited about college the last time they had spoken.

“Eh, college will always be there when I’m ready to go back.” Caroline replied indifferently.

Rebekah opened the bedroom door catching Katie’s attention. “Have you seriously not even showered yet?” she asked, seeing Katie still in her robe and her hair a tousled mess.

“Who is that?” Caroline asked, not recognizing Rebekah's new voice.

“That would be my now official future sister-in-law who is stuck in the body of a witch thanks to Esther. It's a long story.” Katie answered Caroline then covered the speaker of the phone and spoke to Rebekah. “I am talking to my other maid of honor, give me a few more minutes and I’ll start getting dressed.” Rebekah rolled her eyes and closed the door.

“Wait, hold on,” Caroline said in a serious voice, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Katie just giggled in response. “Klaus proposed?!” Caroline asked and Katie could easily picture the shocked and happy look that she was sure was on Caroline's face at the moment.

“And I said yes.” Katie answered.

“Oh my god, Katie, I’m so happy for you.” Caroline practically squealed. “Wait, that’s why Klaus called me wanting the style number of the dress you liked on Say Yes to the Dress, isn’t it? Did he find it? Have you set a date yet? What is your theme? Please tell me it's not sunflowers and burlap. That look is so overdone these days.”

“Caroline.” Katie laughed.

“I know, I know, I need to calm down, but I can’t help it. I’m just so happy and excited for you.” Caroline told her then took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, I’m calm. So tell me what you have planned so far.”

“Not much honestly.” Katie answered. “Klaus did find the dress, but I'm not going to wear it.”

“What, why? It’s freaking gorgeous.” Caroline asked, sounding disappointed.

“Because it’s not me anymore.” Katie answered. “Since you like it so much, why don’t I send it to you? You can save it for your own wedding someday.”

Caroline scoffed. “Yeah, okay, like that will ever happen.”

“Hey, you never know. Your one true love could be right under your nose and you just don’t know it yet.” Katie told her jokingly.

“So do you have a new dress in mind? I can get Mom to dig out your mom's dress and send it to you if you want.”

“No, that's okay.” Katie answered. “Rebekah is actually waiting for me to get dressed so she can take me dress shopping. I’ve kind of asked her to be a co-maid of honor. I hope that’s okay.”

Caroline was quiet for a few minutes before she sighed. “Yeah...it’s fine. I just wish you guys could get married here in Mystic Falls so that I could be the active maid of honor.” she could hear the sadness in her voice.

“I know, me too.” Katie agreed, sounding almost as sad.

“Okay...go dress hunting with your future sister-in-law.” Caroline told her, pouting. Which only made Katie smile.

“You will have your responsibilities too, Care. Don’t worry.” Katie laughed. “I’ll talk to you later and text you a picture of the dress before I buy it.”

“You better. I want every detail.” Caroline told her seriously.

“Oh, and can you get Elena and Damon to call me when they have a chance?” Katie asked and Caroline said she would before they hung up.

TVDTVDTVD

After showering, braiding her bangs back out of her face, tying the rest of her hair up into a messy bun and getting dressed in a pair of dark wash, distressed denim shorts, a black form fitting tank top with a sheer lace racerback and a pair of strappy black sandals she found Klaus in the kitchen feeding Hope a bowl of mashed bananas and oatmeal cereal. She grabbed a blood bag out of the icebox and was about to rip it open when Klaus noticed what she was doing and spoke up. "Have you forgotten that the hired humans offer more services than just housekeeping?"

She looked at him to see a smirk on his face as he jerked his head at the woman standing quietly in the corner of the kitchen with her hands folded politely in front of herself. The woman walked over and held out her wrist “I’m fine. Thank you.” Katie told her so the woman nodded and went back to where she had been before.

Klaus thought it odd that she refused fresh blood when once upon a time she referred to blood bags as tv dinners, but he brushed it off thinking she was just in a hurry because Rebekah was rushing her.

When she was done putting the blood in a coffee tumbler she walked over to them and slid her hand over his shoulders as she leaned around him, “Okay, I’m headed out.” she pecked him on the lips as Hope babbled and hit the tray of her high chair with a spoon.

“Be careful. We still don’t know Finn’s whereabouts.” he warned her.

“I will. Promise.” she answered then kissed him again. “Just...do me a favor and don’t feed her beignets while I’m gone.”

Klaus feigned shock. “I would never.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Katie told him, walking backward toward the door. “If I find a trace of powdered sugar on her you will pay for it.” she pointed at him playfully.

“Is that a threat?” he asked with wide, joking eyes.

“That’s a promise, Big Bad Wolf.” she laughed then turned and walked out.

TVDTVDTVD

After a completely montagable day of wedding dress shopping Katie picked a dress that both Rebekah and Caroline agreed on. But, while her maids of honor could agree on a wedding dress for her they couldn’t agree on any one maid of honor dress for themselves. So to stop the arguing over speakerphone, Katie finally told them she didn’t care what they wore as long as their dresses were matching shades of azure blue.

Rebekah also insisted that to make it a proper girls day they had to get their hair and nails done. So when Katie walked into the courtyard with her hair that had grown six inches since her last haircut, cut shoulder length and layered, Klaus took notice, his eyes lingering on her a second or two longer than usual. “You look refreshed.” he told her as she walked over and sat down beside him where he sat on the floor with Hope on a blanket beside the fountain in the center of the courtyard. Hope had a teething ring in her hand slinging it around. “And you cut your hair.”

“Do you like it? I’ve never thought to ask if you have a preference when it comes to the length of my hair.” she asked as she reached up and twirled a shoulder length auburn curl around her finger.

“As long as I can run my fingers through it I’ll be happy.” he answered and she smiled as he slipped his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. “Did you have a good time?” he asked as they turned their attention to Hope.

“Yes, and I found a dress. It’s at the tailors, but once they are done they will call me for the final fitting.” she answered.

“One step closer.” he told her with a cheeky smile that made her bump his shoulder with hers and shake her head.

Katie leaned down and looked Hope over. “Hmm, is that a speck of powdered sugar on her onesie?” she asked then looked over her shoulder at Klaus with a raised brow and a smirk.

Klaus laughed, “You are looking for reasons to punish me.”

“Maybe.” she said with a noncommittal shrug as she sat up. “But who’s to say you won’t like your punishment?”

“Come here you.” he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, kissing her deeply. “You can save your punishment for later tonight.” he told her when the kiss broke. “I’ve asked Camille to babysit so that you and I may have a date night. It’s been too long.”

"Would you like me to cook dinner?" She asked with a Hopeful look.

"Well, I'd be hurt if you didn't." He answered with a mock serious look then gave her a smile.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was setting a basket of cheddar biscuits in the center of the dining table in the small dining room when Klaus joined her. “It smells delicious, Love.” he commented as he sat down at one of the two place settings and she sat down across from him. Soon after, the woman that had offered Katie her wrist earlier that day, brought out two plates of jambalaya. “It seems someone has expanded their Louisiana recipe book.” he told her with a smirk as he grabbed his fork and took a bite.

"I also know how to cook crawfish etouffee, gumbo from scratch, and catfish Courtbouillon." She told him with her head held high. "If it sucks, blame Rebekah. She was my guinea pig."

Klaus took a bite and hummed, enjoying the Cajun cuisine. "You are truly talented, Little Phoenix."

She just smiled, happy he liked it and things fell comfortably silent for a few minutes as they both enjoyed their meal, but eventually Klaus grabbed a cheddar biscuit from the basket and asked, "I've been thinking about a venue, but I do not know much about your preferences. Where did you picture your dream wedding taking place?"

"My teenage wedding dreams never really made it past the dress." She answered and he gave her a look that told her to give him something to work with. "When I was talking to Caroline earlier today she mentioned that she wished we could get married in Mystic Falls and I pictured the double staircase in the entryway of your mansion-”

“Our mansion.” he interrupted her with his fork pointed at her. “Your father took your house there, besides once we say our vows what’s mine becomes yours.”

“Oh, so you’re not going to make me sign a prenup?” she asked with a challenging lift of her brows to which he rolled his eyes and gave her a ‘seriously?’ look. “Anyway.” she laughed. “I pictured flowers and twinkling lights on the railing of the stairs. Everyone sitting down below, looking up at us at the top of them, while we say our vows.” she answered. “But that was just a fleeting thought.” she shrugged then took the last bite of her jambalaya.

“Is that what you want, to get married in Mystic Falls?” he asked

“No.” she answered with a shake of her head. “I’ve just always liked that house. Even before you renovated it.” He gave her a curious tilt of his head that asked her to explain why. “During the summer, before I was old enough to work at the grill, I would sneak out at night and ride around the back roads of town on my bike. The road the mansion is on was my favorite one to take and every time I took it I’d stop and stare at that house, trying to imagine what it must have looked like in its prime because even when it was broken down and falling apart it was beautiful.”

“Maybe we could go there on our honeymoon.” he suggested. “You can visit your friends. I know you still miss them.”

“I do miss them and I would like to visit Mystic Falls, but we can’t. Vampires can’t enter Mystic Falls right now or we’ll die. Something about travelers casting an anti magic spell on it.” she told him sadly and they both got quiet for a minute.

When they were done eating Klaus stood from the table and held his hand out to her. “Come with me.” she placed her hand in his as she stood then let him lead her to the main entrance of the compound that they hardly ever used. Showing her the double staircase that led up to a curved balcony with tall cream colored columns on each side of it that went from floor to ceiling. “I know it’s not as grand as the mansion, but-” he slipped his hand into hers, taking over her reality, changing the entryway before her eyes.

The metal railing of the stairs was decorated with white hydrangeas, little azure blue flowers and twinkling lights. A priest stood up above them, under an arch decorated with greenery, flowers and more lights. All of their friends and family stood below, looking at them with smiles on their faces. She looked down at herself to see she wore a trumpet silhouette dress with a satin skirt and a sexy bodice of strategically placed lace that let a tasteful amount of cleavage and side boob show. “I recognize this dress. It’s the first one that popped up on my google feed when I typed in “Pnina Tornai” and “sexy”.”

“Feel on top of your head.” he told her with a smirk.

So she reached on top of her head and when she felt cold metal, pulled it off to see in her hands a simple cletic knot tiara with a single blue teardrop sapphire at its peak.

“You’re trying to give me a big head again, Big Bad Wolf.” she told him as he let the vision fade. “Is that your way of telling me you want me to wear a tiara?” she asked with a raised brow.

“You can wear whatever you'd like.” he answered. “What do you think?” he asked with a motion to the entryway.

“I think you solved the no venue problem.” she told him with a smile.

“So you like it?” he asked as she stepped around to stand in front of him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“It’s perfect.” she told him then caught his lips with hers. She had meant for it to just be a peck, but he deepened it, pulling a sigh from her as she melted into him. When it broke she gave him a smirk that let him know exactly what she wanted and he whooshed them up to their quarters.

TVDTVDTVD

They were lounging in their pj's in the bed in their quarters when Katie remembered they had forgotten about dessert and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. "What are you doing, Love?" Klaus asked curiously.

"Nothing." She told him evasively and when he tried to sneak at her phone she turned it away from him.

They were fighting over her phone when a knock sounded at the door. Katie slipped from the bed and Klaus followed. When she opened the door the woman from the kitchen, who Katie had gotten to know while she was cooking, holding a round silver tray of square pastries covered in powdered sugar came into view. "You made beignets." He observed with a closed lipped smile at her. "You spoil me."

"That was the plan." She told him as she took the tray from the woman. "Thank you, Laura." the woman nodded.

"You know what goes splendidly with beignets?" He asked as he walked over to Laura and grabbed her hand. His irises turned amber before he bit her wrist. After a few seconds of drinking he looked up at Katie and watched as she swept the woman’s straight brown hair away from her neck, letting blood fill her eyes as she looked into Klaus’s and bit the woman’s neck.

After a minute they both let go of Laura and Klaus dismissed her as he wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist and pulled her into him. His other hand grabbed her thigh and pulled her leg up as she pressed her against the wall by the door, their bodies writhing against each other as his lips traveled the exposed skin of her neck.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie’s head rested in Klaus’s lap, his hand absentmindedly playing with her loose waves, both lost in thought. Katie glanced up noticing he looked a little worried. “You okay?” she asked as she sat up, covering herself with the throw blanket that was usually on the back of the couch.

“Finn and Kol were not the only members of my family that Esther pulled from the other side before it’s collapse. She also brought my father, Ansel, back.”

“What?” Katie asked, curious as to why Esther would bring back Klaus’s father.

“She tried to use him to get me to take her up on her offer to become mortal.” he answered. “She offered to put me in the body of a wolf, to let me join Ansel and have the father I always wanted.” she knew when tears formed in his eyes that it didn’t end well between them. “I used to tell myself that my real father must have had no idea I existed, but he did know. Mother forbade him from seeing me. So, according to him, he waited knowing that one day I would trigger my curse and need my real father.”

“But Mikael killed him before he could step up.” Katie finished and he nodded.

“Ansel thought I should accept mothers offer. That as a wolf I would be king to an entire species and would know true peace.” Klaus continued. “I would be lying if I said the prospect of it all wasn’t appealing, that I wouldn't have liked to have been the son of Ansel.”

“But his offer was too little too late.” she finished.

“Not to mention he knew Hope was alive.” Katie’s brows furrowed at his statement. “When a werewolf is in their animal form they feel everything more acutely. Ansel said that when I was a boy, after each full moon he would wake closer to my village, having been drawn to me in the night. Since he’d come back each month he would wake further from New Orleans. He was drawn to Hope.” Katie blinked at him knowing the look on his teary eyed face. “He wanted to help me protect her, but I knew mother would take his good intentions and twist them against us. So I killed him…” Katie reached up and wiped a tear that fell. “I wanted to trust him. I wanted my father, but I would not be able to forgive myself if something happened to Hope...to you, because of my selfish need for a father.”

She moved to straddle him, holding the sides of his neck as she rested her forehead on his. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked and he gave her a look that said it all. He was afraid of what she’d think. "I'm not disappointed in you, Big Bad Wolf.” she lifted her head and slipped her fingers through his hair. “I just wish that for once, you could have everything you want." he simply grabbed her sides and rested his forehead on her chest.

After a few minutes of comforting silence she slipped from his lap, put on a cotton robe then walked over to the table in the entry room and grabbed the tray of beignets. She put them on the coffee table between the two couches in the sitting room then sat sideways in his lap, grabbed a beignet and rested her arm on his shoulders as she held the pastry up to his lips.

He took a bite and let his head fall back with a hum, enjoying the flavor of the fluffy, sugared, New Orleans donut. “Is there anything you can’t cook?” he asked as he opened his eyes and took the beignet from her fingers and took another bite.

“Soufflé and divinity.” she answered then licked the powdered sugar from her fingers. “I’ll screw it up every time.” Klaus didn’t reply, his mouth too busy with the dessert. “I did a good job then?” she laughed.

“Have you tried your little masterpieces?” he asked and she shook her head no so he held the last bite up to her lips.

She took it and made a surprised face. “Why is this so good? It’s just dough and sugar.” she asked with her hand over her mouth.

“I told you, the food here is some of the best in the world.” he told her with a look at the tray on the table. She grabbed him another off of the tray and handed it to him. She watched him eat the pastry, both of them completely relaxed and content. “Everything alright, Love?” he asked when he saw her eyes watering.

“Perfectly.” she answered quietly. “I just really missed moments like this is all.”

Klaus cupped her cheek in his hand, slipping his thumb over her cheekbone. “Why don’t we go look in on our daughter before we call it a night?” he asked and Katie slipped from his lap and held her hand out for his. He took it then got dressed and they walked hand in hand to their daughters room. Cami was asleep in the rocking chair while Hope was fast asleep in her crib. “Should we wake her?” Klaus asked with a look at Cami.

“Yeah, that chair can’t be comfortable.” Katie answered as she walked over and rubbed Cami’s shoulder, waking her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Cami echoed as she rubbed her eyes.

“Thanks for watching her.” Katie told her as Cami stood up. “We got it from here.”

“Are you sure?” Cami asked with a look at both of them who gave her a nod. “Okay.”

When Cami left both Klaus and Katie moved to look at Hope, their hands resting on the railing of the crib. “She is perfect isn’t she?” Klaus asked with a smile down at his daughter.

“Like her father.” Katie answered as she wrapped her arms around one of his and rested her head on his shoulder. He just gave her a smirk as he grabbed her hand and led her to their bedroom where he laid down on his back and she snuggled into his side. “Goodnight, Mo Rí.”

Klaus looked down at her and placed a slow lingering kiss to her lips. “Goodnight, Mo Bhanríon.”

A/N: I'm going to try to put together a tag list for this story. So if you want to be added to it let me know.

[seafrost-fangirl]

Lovely Letters I - A Day’s Difference

Laurie x March!Reader

1126 Words

Requested by @psychshawnjuleshanluke

A/N I’m aiming to make this series three parts, and I have two other Laurie one-shots planned for after this one.

~*~

     The day your life changes began the same as the days before. Waking just before the sun's rise to help Marmee with her morning preparations and lending a hand to Hannah in the kitchen before Jo would come blundering down the stairs with Beth at her heels, Meg telling them to slow lest they fall and break their ankles, and Amy, ever the lady, trailing daintily behind Meg. Today, however, was special. Meg and Jo were going to a dance in town this evening. You had been invited as well, but you'd hurt your ankle ice skating the other day. Although it wasn't broken, you feared dancing would only aggravate the injury. 

     "Are you absolutely, positively sure that I can't go?" Amy whined. "Y/N isn't going. Couldn't I take her invitation?" Meg glared disapprovingly at her youngest sister. "Amy, twelve is much too young for this kind of engagement. You'll have plenty of chances when you're older." Amy merely huffed in response. 

     "Count yourself lucky, Amy." Jo countered. "I thoroughly wish I wasn't going!" You scowled at Jo and swatted her arm. "Oh do behave Josephine March! It was very kind of the Thompsons to invite us this evening. You don't have to stay the whole time, but you must at least make an appearance in order to be polite." Your comment made Jo groan and go thundering back up the stairs, stomping all the way. 

      The rest of the day was spent in preparation for the party that evening. While it mostly consisted of Meg fretting over her and Jo's dresses and Jo hiding in the attic, that's not to say the day wasn't without its headaches. Jo seemed to exist purely to torture poor Meg. From not having the proper gloves to burning off a lock of Meg's hair, you didn't feel your nerves settle themselves until they left sometime after sundown. 

     After shutting the door behind your sisters, you turned around to survey the scene in the sitting room. Marmee had come home some time ago and had placed herself in her comfortable chair by the fire, Amy was still pouting in her corner chair, and Beth was content on the floor with her dolls. As much as you longed to spend some time with your family, the day exhausted you more than you realized. You walked over to your mother and kissed her goodnight. 

     "Retiring so early dear?" She asked voice laced with a mild concern, perhaps thinking you may be ill. You gave your mother a tired smile. "My sisters have drawn all my energy from me Marmee, and though I have a little left I would rather use it to prepare for bed than have them drain the rest upon return." She nodded and gave your cheek a quick pat. "I'll try to subdue them when they arrive home so as to not wake you, darling." You thanked your mother for her kindness before saying quick goodnights to your remaining sisters and began ascending the stairs that seemed much shorter earlier that day. 

     A lifetime later you arrived at the room you shared with Meg and Jo, though it seemed only two girls lived here as Jo would often sleep in the lonesome attic to write her stories. You quickly brushed the tangles from your hair and slipped into a night-dress, and fell into a wonderfully dreamless sleep devoid of dances, responsibilities, and loud sisters. 

     Pity that didn't last long. 

     You woke after what seemed like only minutes of rest when you heard loud bangs and shouts from downstairs. So much for Marmee keeping the girls quiet. You felt wicked for thinking such a though, especially when you heard Jo repeat the words ‘Meg’ and ‘hurt’. You were awake in a moment with the most horrible thoughts firmly lodging themselves in your mind. Had she fallen? Had she been attacked? Was she bleeding or did she have any broken bones? 

     You flung yourself down the stairs so fast you missed the figure standing at the front door.

     “Marmee! Meg! Is everything alright?” The sight you saw before was not nearly as terrible as you had envisioned. Meg was sat up in Marmee’s chair with ice on her ankle and her head in her hands. “Oh Y/N! It’s nothing, truly, I’m sorry we woke you. I’m more embarrassed than anything, really.” You let out a sigh of relief and glanced down at Marmee who was knelt down beside Meg, but instead of you or Meg, she had her eyes cast past you to the door. 

     “And this, Mr. Laurence, is my other daughter Y/N.” You turned and finally saw the stranger who darkened your doorway and were fully unprepared to find your breath stolen from your lungs. There, stood before you, was the most handsome boy that had ever graced your sight. 

     The first thing you noticed about him was his eyes. A shinning green that seemed to resemble the emeralds you’d seen in Aunt March’s finest jewelry. The waves of his hair reminded you of the soft lull of the sea on a spring day. And his smile - oh his smile! The happiness radiating off of him could bring joy to even the most destitute of souls. 

      You all at once became very embarrassed that you were in a nightgown in front of a stranger, and hoped he’d think your flushing cheeks the result of standing so close to the hearth. You gave a quick bow of your head and greeted him simply with “Mr. Laurence.” and cursed the small tremble of your voice.

     When you looked back to him, his smile had morphed into a playful smirk. “Just Laurie, please. No one calls me Laurence save my grandfather.” Marmee stood from her spot next to Meg and brushed the dirt from the front of her skirts. “Well,” she declared “then Laurie it is.” 

     Laurie. The boy, the savior, thief of breath and heart. Laurie.

      All too soon he was leaving your home, his only purpose truly being to deliver Meg and Jo safely. As Amy and Jo assisted Meg to your room, you saw Laurie to the door. 

     “Well Ms. March, due to the lateness of the hour I think it is high time I head home. No doubt my grandfather is waiting up for me and shall make the fact known the second I walk through the door,” said Laurie, as he stepped down onto the small porch. He gave a quick bow of his head, but before he could depart you said “Y/N actually. No one calls me Ms. March,” mirroring his own words. Once again, his burning smile blazed to life.

     “All right then,” he replied. “Y/N it shall be.”

~*~

Taglist For Laurie

@theshowtunecockatoo

[lixiescheesestick]

(candy)

Hwang Hyunjin.

A person you despised alongside his friends. The person that turned your middle school to high school life into a living hell. The cause of your anxieties and sadness on most days.

Since middle school, Hyunjin was always on the more popular side. His friends and him being the mischievous rebelling brats that people somehow adored. By the time high school war around the corner, nearly everyone was acquainted to the 9 boys.

Nearly Everyone.

You were more of a loner. During middle school, you had many online buddies, but in school you were bullied. Being called a nerd, having rumours spread about you, being tripped and having to turn up at the nurses office at least twice weekly because you scuffed up your wrists when you were pushed around. And all thanks to that damned boy.

You never knew what Hyunjin had against you, but most days he would bully you, provoke you, annoy you. At first you told him to stop but then others got involved. And it all escalated, to all the rumours and the scuffing. You hated it.

It was now your last year in high school, and everything was the same. You walked onto the grounds, chatter surrounding you as you tried your best to avoid the boy you hated oh so much.

Of course luck wasn't on your side as you ran directly into his broad chest. He held you by the arms and pushed you back making you stumble and fall. Of course it wasn't the worst thing ever, but it sure was embarrassing.

"Hey, watch where the fuck you are going twig head."

A new nickname. How creative.

You nodded curtly, getting up and looking down as Hyunjin carried on down the hall. His friends brushing past your shoulders making you wince by the time they were past.

You power walked toward you locker, avoiding all eye contact with other students as you arrived to find something extremely strange.

You weren't sure how to react as you came across one of your favourite sweets stuck to your locker barely holding up with some scotch tape attached to it.

You thought it might be a joke, as you looked around and tried to find any kind of camera or a bickering student. But all looked natural so you came to the conclusion that someone had mistaken your locker for a different one.

You took out your things, leaving the candy stuck as you turned around to go to your class, bell ringing in your ears loudly.

Little did you know someone was watching your every move, and were devastated that you hadn't taken their gift.

-

It was day two, and yet another one of your most favoured sweets was stuck to your locker. This time a little note with scribbled writing saying 'For Y/N'.

You smiled a little. It was genuinely stuck there for you and that gave you joy. Nobody had ever gotten you anything, and now you seemed to have a secret admirer. You tugged off the tape, unwrapped and chucked it into your mouth, feeling content and sliding the note into your locker, keeping it safe before the bell rang and you ran towards you class.

-

This went on for a few weeks, each day there was a new sweet with a small note by it. Some saying you look beautiful when you smile, some saying you lost a little wait and you should look after yourself.

You felt loved by someone for once in your life. The small notes making your day and the sweets giving you energy. You even ate more because your, what you called, secret admirer told you to look after yourself and eat a little more.

Of course, you were curious to see who was behind the adorable gesture. But you decided to keep to yourself, afraid that your new buddy would leave you if you seemed sceptical. So you settled accepting and smiling on a daily basis.

-

It had now been officially 1 month since you started receiving candies, and to say you were happy was an understatement.

Your school life began improving too, students mocking you less and Hyunjin was hardly to be seen. When he did pass you in the halls he wouldn't even spare you a glance. All this made you hope that he had gotten over his daft hatred toward you.

Everything seemed brighter, you even got more confident and everyone saw the change.

-

It was a few days later as you got to your locker. Your candy not there making your face drop. Why isn't it there? Had the admirer had enough of you? Was it because you never returned their notes?

You began to get anxious again. Thoughts swimming in your head making you feel alone.

In the end you went to class, sad and afraid of being lonely in the big world yet again.

You went around the corner, when suddenly your phone went off. You checked and it was an email from your school saying that your first two periods were officially cancelled. You looked up to see the students in your class all walk out, talking away about some things that you have never had someone to talk about.

You decided to turn around and head toward your locker, stopping when you realized a familiar figure stood before it, using tape to put something down.

You walked up to him, tapping his shoulder. You anxiety bubbling in your stomach as you asked what he was doing in a small voice.

Hyunjin whipped around, eyes widening when you were standing there, looking toward his feet rather than at his eyes. 

He felt many emotions pass through him in that moment. Adoration, guilt, happiness.

He coughed to break the silence.

"Are you going to stare at my shoes all day? Look into my eyes if you are even daring to talk to me-"

He was trying to sound like his mean self, but he couldn't do it. As soon as you looked up at him with your beautiful E/C eyes, his breath hitched. A small blush dusting his cheeks as he pursed his lips.

You truly were stunning, he knew this. He had basically been your stalker for the past few weeks. In reality, he had never been this close to you.

"So… what do you need Hyunjin?" you asked, a little louder.

He was lost. What would he say to you? He knew what he had put you through, yet he too did never know why. He had adored you from first sight, and never knew how to cope.

"I-I.. well… you see.." he sighed out, utterly defeated. He knew it would be dumb. He was the reason you were bullied for so long, yet he needed you to know the truth of you should have known anything at all.

"Hold out your hand for me." you did. It was a small kinder chocolate bar with a note attached to it. You looked up at him confused. It was him?

You wanted to say something, but you were speechless. The person you swore yourself to hate until after school was stood there, being a person you had begun to like due to the smiles he put upon your face.

"Look, let me explain. I know you are probably really devastated. I mean, I feel like I have ruined your high school life in many ways and now suddenly I am here to tell you that I have been the one writing those notes and giving you candies. I only recently realized the reason, that being that… I have a huge crush on you. Heck, as if I realized. Chan helped me. I hope this past month has been a good enough sorry and I hope you don't hate me because I really would like to take you out some time. So.. would you forgive me…?"

You looked up at him, close enough to see his face for once. You never realized how handsome he truly was. The small spot under his eye, his plush lips and fair looking skin.

You contemplated the things he had done to you. The bullying, rumours, anxiety inducing encounters.

But he still had done something good for you. Making you decide to be forgiving. All the bullying would possibly be in the past now.

You smiled up at him, finally getting a few words out of your  mouth.

"I forgive you. Even if it possibly bites me in the ass at some point." You both chuckled as you continued. "And.. if you really do want to take me out some time, go ahead."

You never saw his smile brighter, as he pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you.. thank you so much for not rejecting me.. after all I have done.

Thank you."

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

a/n: thank you to my best for helping me with this 🥺 ily💞

oh my god, Hannah's posting 2 days in a row?! what's this nonsense? enjoy while it lasts 😂😂

[winterisakillerwrites]

Brave Face - Part One

Title: Brave Face

One Shot: 1/3

Character: Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Genre: Angst

Rating: M

Summary: A wedding is one of the happiest days of one’s life. It is the beginning of the future and for Amelia Evans this was no different. Tom HIddleston stood watching her as she walked down the aisle while considering every choice that had brought him here. For better or worse, his life was fundamentally changed.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So full disclosure this story came about completely by accident. I had this vague idea in my head and it probably would have stayed that way had I not been talking to @redfoxwritesstuff and said “So I have this idea…”. This literally grew from a ‘huh, this should be straight forward’ to ‘holy fuck what have I gotten myself into?!’. All in all this is a 13,000 word one shot that has been split into three parts to make for easier posting/reading. Hope you all enjoy.

The room was filled with the bright, potent scent of flowers. Everywhere he turned, Tom Hiddleston found garlands of wildflowers in pinks, and blues and yellows lining the walls, the windows, and the aisle. It was beautiful and so perfectly her. She had always loved wildflowers, had always had them spread in bunches throughout her tiny flat. Their scent always seemed to cling to her skin. It was one of the many things he could now admit openly to always loving about her. She was calm and open and gentle in her care. Such a wonderful contrast to his own ambitious and vibrating nature. They had always been such a contrast. Two people who on first glance didn’t seem right at all but on further inspection just seemed to click.

His head rose as he heard the door slowly creak open and the swell of violins filling the room. She stood, arm in arm with her father, smile blinding and wide. He felt his knees go weak at the sight of her; blonde hair piled elegantly at the nape of her neck, green eyes filled with warmth and happiness covered ever so slightly a veil of white lace, the soft and shimmering white of her dress with its floral overlay and cream ribbon cinching her waist. She was a vision. He could hear the murmurs of the people surrounding him and could see the faint blush that stained her cheeks.

Tom fought the tears that were threatening to spill as she continued her slow walk down the aisle. He could see the shimmer in her eyes as her father leaned over to whisper in her ear. She was truly stunning; regal and graceful and absolutely perfect. Each step she took echoed the beating of his heart. And suddenly she was before him, a bright smile on her face, another step and she passed him.

He could feel the lump in his throat growing as her father paused at the end of the aisle and, with a kiss to her cheek, turned and offered her hand to the man beaming before her. Tom wanted to hate him, wanted to scream and curse and beg her to change her mind. To pick him. But he held his tongue. That choice, that desire, was something he had absolutely no right to. And the bitter knowledge of that burned.

Try as he might, Tom couldn’t make himself focus on the words the minister spoke. He could see the man’s lips moving, knew enough to get the gist of what was happening, but none of it seemed real. The only thing his mind could grasp was that Amelia, his dear, sweet Amy, was standing before him pledging her life to someone else. And he had no one to blame other than himself.

He had met Amelia Evans what felt like a lifetime ago. They had been in the same circles at Cambridge; interacting but never quite connecting until the summer before their final year. He’d always thought she was a beautiful woman; bright and intelligent and not afraid to show it. She kept him on his toes and while they argued over points of philosophy and belief, Tom found himself captivated.

By graduation they were nearly thick as thieves, with family and friends alike asking when they would finally settle down and make things official. Tom had always brushed them off; Amy was special to him, that he could not deny, but he was young and there was so much of life he’d yet to experience, to explore. Marriage and commitment were wonderful ideas, but not something he was even remotely ready to contemplate. She seemed to understand and accept his resistance; agreeing they were still young and this was not the right time for them to entertain such notions.

They’d taken things how they’d come. Amy had been one of his largest supporters when he’d been accepted into RADA. She had gone to as many of his productions as she could between her work and the other commitments that consumed her days. Her support had meant everything and when he’d been approached by an agent and given the opportunity to really, truly do what he loved on a potentially wider scale, Amy had been right beside him encouraging him.

It hadn’t been an easy path; he was frequently away filming, auditioning, getting his face and name out there. There wasn’t an opportunity he didn’t take or a part he didn’t try for. All the while he’d been secure in the notion that Amy would always be there, in the background offering her love and her support.

And then seemingly out of nowhere it happened.

Suddenly his name was on everyone’s lips, he was sought after for roles, wanted at parties, his face was on billboards and buses. He’d done it and Amy had been there, the pride and happiness radiating from her in waves. Tom had thrown himself into the melee completely; there were so many chances he had to take, so many people he couldn’t not meet. This boom wouldn’t last, he knew that, and he could not let himself miss any chance, any moment. And she was there, quietly cheering him on from the sidelines. A gentle word of comfort when he needed it. His voice of reason and encouragement.

But along with opportunity came an attention that Tom was equally baffled and fascinated by. Suddenly, he was the one women approached at parties, the one they stopped in the streets, the one they talked of and fantasized about online. It had seemed so surreal at first. He couldn’t understand what had changed, what was so different about him that caused the heads of admittedly stunning women to turn and give him a second glance. It was immensely flattering and he’d flirted shamelessly with him. What was the harm in enjoying the attention they lavished on him?

He hadn’t truly acted on any of it. Not at first. A whispered word here, a touch there, a brush of lips against a cheek that lingered just a fraction too long. It was almost a test, how are would they let him push? How far would he let himself? How much could he get away with? Hollywood was such a long cry from the life he’d known in London. And what was truly the harm if Amy would never know?

So he continued to dance along that line of flirting and seduction until he’d found himself pressing the warm and willing body of a gorgeous woman who’s name escaped him into the soft mattress of his hotel room. Her nails in his back, her breathless cries in his ear and they chased release in each other. And the next morning it was easy to convince himself that it had been just a momentary lapse in judgement. It was done and over with, though he’d kept the number she’d left on the pillow beside him, why he couldn’t truly say. It wouldn’t happen again and there was no reason at all that Amy had to know about it. They were happy and this would be a complication that neither of them honestly needed.

Tom could still so clearly picture her face the day Amy had confronted him. The day everything had changed. Her flat had been his first stop, save for dropping his luggage off, since landing at Heathrow that morning. It had been far too long and he’d missed her. He hadn’t been prepared for the quiet, cool reception she’d given him. He’d found her sitting in the living room, staring at the opened magazine in her lap. Amy had raised her head up as she heard him enter the flat; pain, confusion, and a desperate sort of hope shining in her bright eyes. Wordlessly, she’d stood and held out the magazine to him. Colorful photographs greeted him; images of himself and…Holly? Hannah? Heather? (God, he couldn’t remember her name) kissing and grinding against one another in the backseat of a cab. Followed by images of them kissing and heading into an elevator at his hotel. Fuck, Luke was going to murder him.

“Is this true?” Her voice was steady but quiet, her eyes pleading with him to tell her that these pictures were false, that he hadn’t done exactly what she feared he had.

Tom swallowed thickly, casting his eyes quickly downward. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He tried to gather his thoughts, tried to figure out what he was going to say.

“Thomas, please tell me you didn’t do this…” She only ever called him Thomas when she was cross with him.

“Amy, you have to understand…” he pleaded, needing to keep her calm. He tried desperately to think of a way to explain. Amy would understand, she always understood. Hell, she had seen firsthand just how much his life had changed in the last year. These things happened. And it wasn’t as if he and the girl (…God, what was her name?) were serious. “It was just one night…”

Clearly, that had been the absolute wrong thing to say. Amy paled; he watched in horror as all the color drained from her face. He reached out to her but she backed away as if she’d been burned. She shook her head, eyes filling with tears. “You son of a bitch,” she hissed. “You fucking, FUCKING bastard.”

“Amy, please…” He took several steps towards her, his hands raised in supplication. She had to understand. It hadn’t meant anything. He had to make her understand.

“No,” she bellowed. “No! Fuck you, Hiddleston!” She shook her head in angry disbelief. “To think I even thought that you…” Her voice trailed off and after several moments she let out a quiet, mirthless laugh. When she raised her head again and locked her eyes with his, Tom was taken aback by the anger and fury in them. This wasn’t the gentle, understanding Amy he knew. “We are finished,” she hissed. “I want you gone and I never want to see you darken my doorway again. Get your shit and get out.”

And with that she turned on her heel and left. He winced as he heard the door slam behind her.  

Tom found himself standing in the now empty living room, wondering just what the fuck had happened; just how all of this had spiraled so far out of his control. He’d never seen Amy like that. Never. She was the calm one, the rational one. She was the one he had always turned to when he needed a voice of reason. This wasn’t his Amy.

She now was gone.

The idea didn’t want to compute. She would have to come back, Amy always came back. They’d had their fair share of arguments throughout the years and even when he knew she was so angry she was fit to burst, even when she left to clear her mind, she’d always, always, always came back. But as the minutes crept by his conviction began to waiver.

Tom swallowed thickly. Surely she hadn’t meant it. She was angry, clearly, and had needed to scream at him. To vent. And once she had calmed she would come back and they could talk about all of this rationally.

But soon an hour had passed. And then another.

Nothing. No sound of her feet on the stairs, no jingle of keys in the front lock. Just nothing.  

He pulled out his mobile and cursed. He’d completely forgotten that he had placed it on silent mode while he’d been on the train earlier that day and hadn’t yet switched it off. He hadn’t been quite sure what he had expected when he turned on the screen. But it certainly hadn’t been this. Nearly a hundred texts and far too many missed calls glared back at him from the tiny screen. All from Luke.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Bracing himself he cued up his voicemail and worked through the waiting missives. Each message grew steadily more frantic until finally ending in: “If you do not get your sorry ass into my office yesterday I will drop you, so help me God.”

With a weary sigh of resignation, Tom made his way out of Amy’s small flat, making sure to text Luke that he was indeed on his way. He needed the man in his life; his career depended on him having someone he could trust to keep his name, his face, in the right circles. And as far as he was concerned, Luke was it.

The meeting had been more or less what he had expected; nearly an hour of both Luke and his agent giving him a sound and thorough bollocking about his carelessness. Yes, he admitted, he’d been stupid and reckless. Yes, he would make sure he was more discreet in his extracurricular activities from this point onward. Yes, Amy knew. No, she’s currently not speaking to him. No, he doesn’t think she will say anything to the press. Yes, he trusts her.

He tried to ignore the way Luke was looking at him; both in weary frustration and resigned yet seething bewilderment. He’d known that Luke and Amy had gotten on well on the occasions they’d had the chance to interact. Just as he was well aware that Luke, his friend, did not approve at all of what he’d done. But Luke, his publicist, would do all he could to make the worst of it go away. To spin whatever the fallout was in Tom’s favor. That was what he was paying him for. But he couldn’t shake the unease he felt at Luke’s silent disapproval. At his quiet condemnation.

Looking back it was easy to see just how far off track he’d let himself go. How easily he’d let the flattery and unexpected praise of his peers, the fans, the press go to his head. How easily he’d let himself be led by his desires and not by his head. All he had seen was the warm smiles and the willing bodies. God, he’d been a complete and utter ass.

But as he’d left Luke’s office that day, Tom had been so convinced that he had everything in hand. That this would eventually blow over and Amy would come back to him. He didn’t let it worry him when she hadn’t called by the next morning. Nor the following afternoon. She was angry and she needed time to calm, time to think things through. But by that evening, the unease had slowly started to creep in. And when the boxes arrived the following morning that unease began to blossom into a full blown, disbelieving fear. He’d signed for the boxes in confusion and carried them into his living room.

Inside he’d found various books, pieces of clothing, and several other small bits and bobs that he hadn’t realized had found their way into Amy’s flat over the several years they had been together. And sitting on top of the final box of clothing was the key he had given her to his own flat along with several pictures and various things he had given her over the years. He shook his head in disbelief. No, this had to be some sort of mistake.

Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and his keys and hurried across town to hers. There had to be some other explanation for this. There simply had to be. But only as he tried his key in the lock only to find it wouldn’t budge, did it start to dawn on him that maybe he had been terribly wrong in his belief that everything would be alright. He tried the key again. Nothing. A white hot panic surged through him. This couldn’t actually be happening. He knocked on the door. No answer. He tried again. Nothing.

Maybe she wasn’t home. That must be it. Okay. He pulled his phone out. He would call her and she would clear all of this up. He dialed the number quickly, shoving the phone against his ear. “We’ve sorry this call cannot be completed as dialed. Please check that the number you have dialed is correct and try again.”

Tom pulled the phone from his ear and stared in stunned disbelief. Wordlessly, he hung up and dialed again. The same message greeted him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t seem to think straight. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t say for sure how long he stood there, staring at her locked door. All he knew was this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. They were Tom and Amy, no matter what happened they were always Tom and Amy.

When his mobile rang sometime later, he’d half convinced himself that it was Amy calling to explain, to forgive. But his mother’s name was what greeted him as he pulled the phone from his pocket. He let out a resigned sigh and answered. “Hey mum.”

“Tom, darling, are you alright?” Diana’s voice was as warm and soothing as it had ever been. For that brief moment he was a little boy again and sure in the knowledge that everything would be alright because his mum was there. “…I’ve not heard from you in several days.”

He leaned back against the wall, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been a bit busy as of late, mum. Nothing to fret over. Are you alright?”

She chuckled softly. “I’m well, dear. Quite well. Looking forward to tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh? What’s happening?” Something was niggling at the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite seem to catch hold.

He heard the exasperation clearly in his mother’s tone. “Seriously, Thomas, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” He didn’t speak for several moments as the realization dawned. He cursed at himself, yet another disaster to add to the ever growing list. After it became clear he wasn’t going to speak, Diana let out a sigh of her own. “You and Amelia are supposed to be coming by. Sarah is here and Emma plans on trying to stop by sometime in the late morning. It’s been ages since I’ve had all of my children together under my roof. Please tell me you’re still coming.”

“I…I should be able to mum,” he hoped she hadn’t caught the uncertainty in his words. “But I don’t know about Amy…Somethings come up…” He didn’t know what to say to her, how to even begin to explain what was becoming startlingly clear; Amy was gone and he wasn’t completely certain any more that she would be coming back. But she will, he told himself fiercely. She has to. “But um…I’ll be there, mum. Alright? I can’t not see my mum.”

“Good lad.”

He set out early the next day, hoping to avoid as much of the commuter traffic that always seemed to clog the roadways as possible. He was acutely aware of the silence in the car and found himself missing the way Amy would hum along with the radio or spout random facts about the places they passed. He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts away. This would all blow over, it had to, and if not…He tried not to think on it. But if not…Then he would move on. It wasn’t as if she was the only woman in the world. There were others. Yes, she was important but she wasn’t where the world started and ended. He was still young, he had plenty of time to figure it out. And in the end either she would be there or she would not. But it wouldn’t come to that. He was certain.

The house was much the same as it had been the last time he’d been there…God, how long ago was that? Christmas maybe? Yes, Christmas. Now it was heading into late August. He shook his head as he killed the engine. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as the front door opened and Diana jogged out onto the drive towards him. Tom quickly climbed out of the car and pulled her tightly into his arms. God, he’d missed this. Missed his family.

“Oh my darling boy,” she whispered into his chest as she returned his tight hug with equal fervor. “It’s so wonderful to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home,” he breathed into her short, white hair. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this, missed home, until that moment. “Are Sarah and Emma here?”

He felt her nod into his chest, “They’re inside.” She pulled back and watched him with a quiet, but no less intense, scrutiny. Her brows slowly rose in concern. “Tom,” she started, her tone soft and light. “What’s happened? And don’t you dare tell me nothing. I’ve known you all of your life, don’t you go thinking you can lie to me.”

Tom let out a soft sigh. This was certainly not the place he wanted to have the conversation he knew his mother sought. “Let’s get in the house shall we?”

Diana narrowed her eyes at him, staring for several moments before quietly nodding. “Alright. But then, young man, you are going to talk. Something’s happened and it’s clearly got you out of sorts.”

He nodded and allowed her to lead him into the house. There was something about coming back to the home you’d grown up in. It was comforting in a way that Tom couldn’t quite put into words. He could hear the soft rumble of his sisters’ voices echoing from the kitchen. Diana, who was several paces ahead of him, made her way into the kitchen he heard her call out, “Look who I’ve just found in the front drive.”

“Tom!” his elder sister yelled, jumping up to embrace him as he made his way into the brightly lit room. A laugh of surprise fell from his lips as he gratefully returned her embrace. “Glad to see that fame hasn’t gotten you forgetting your family, little brother,” she teased with affection. Sarah pulled back and he saw her looking behind him in expectation. “Where’s Amy? It’s been ages since I’ve seen her…”

A sharp jolt of unease threaded through him. “She um…She couldn’t make it,” he finally answered, offering what he hoped was an apologetic smile. He could see the confusion in Sarah’s eyes. Amy was as much a part of the family as he was, as far as his elder sister was concerned. She never missed a chance to visit, especially not when Sarah and Emma were sure to be there. He cleared his throat and tried to think of a way to explain. “Things…Things haven’t been going too well as of late and we’re rather on…on a bit of a break.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, not knowing quite what else to say.

“You’re unbelievable!” Emma hissed at him as she jumped up from her seat opposite, her light eyes narrowing as she brought her hands down on the counter with surprising force causing everyone to jump at the sudden noise.

Diana blinked in confusion. “Emma! What on earth…?”

Tom watched as his younger sister gathered herself before she turned towards their mother. He could see the disbelief and ire burning in her eyes. “Tom’s become quite the liar as of late.” Her words were matter of fact and felt like a slap in the face.

“Now wait just a minute…” Tom started, taking several steps towards Emma, his own eyes narrowing in anger.

But Emma stood her ground, arms crossed at her chest, staring her elder brother down. “You are not on a break, Tom. You went off and fucked around and she left you and you bloody well know it.” She took a deep breath, marshalling her thoughts. “And what I can’t begin to fathom is why the fuck you did it. What were you thinking? Were you even thinking? My God, this whole mess has seriously gotten to your head, hasn’t it? Because the Tom I know…My big, dork of a brother…That Tom wouldn’t do this.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs, and he stood gaping at her. Around him, he could hear the confused and agitated voices of his mother and Sarah, firing questions at both him and Emma. He couldn’t make sense of any of it. “You don’t understand,” he finally managed to choke out. “This is between Amy and me, it’s none of your business!” The anger was coming back in full force. How dare Emma say such a thing! He was still her brother…That hadn’t changed. He had simply needed to adapt to the changing world around him. That didn’t make him a bad person. That didn’t change who he was fundamentally. Why couldn’t she see that? And just what did she think gave her the right to stick her nose into a situation that clearly did not concern her?

“She told me, Tom,” Emma hissed, ire warring with disappointment in her eyes. “I’d stopped by her flat to return a book she’d lent me and I watched her nearly fall to pieces in front of me. My god, she was near hysterical! I’ve never in all the years I’ve known her, ever heard nor seen Amy so bloody shattered! She loved you and you threw that away! How could you?”

“It was a fucking mistake!” The words flew from him in panicked anger. “Things just got completely out of hand! It’s not like I sought out to fucking hurt her!” He finished, his chest heaving with the effort and with the anger coursing through him.

“Thomas.” He froze at the sound of his name and found himself turning slowly towards his mother. Diana’s voice had taken on the quiet, disappointed tone that he’d only ever heard when he’d well and truly messed up. He could see the disappointment clear in her eyes and it cut him near to the bone. “What have you done?”  

He couldn’t stand the look on her face and hadn’t been able to meet her eyes as he’d stumbled through his explanations. His reasons. But he could feel her eyes, along with Sarah and Emma’s on him, and wanted nothing more than to disappear. For the floor to swallow him whole. Anything to make it stop.

It was with a weary exhaustion that Tom finally pulled himself from the car later that evening. His head was spinning and he felt far older than his thirty-one years allowed. Cursing, he fumbled with his keys the front door lock and once it gave way, pushed his way inside the darkened hallway. He could still so clearly see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes and the judgement and anger in both of his sisters’. How things had gotten so far off track, he didn’t know. Yes, he’s made a mistake and he could and would own that. He’d been stupid and careless, but even so…He ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could take any of it back. And unless Amy talked to him, he couldn’t work with her to move past it. If she would let them. No, she had to. She’d always been there, always had his back. She couldn’t just walk away now.

And though he knew it was futile, he checked his mobile once more; the stubborn hope that she had called refused to let him be.

Nothing.

He felt the tightening in his chest grow as he fought to control his breathing. She would come back and everything would be fine. He had to believe that. He simply had to. But the weeks passed and nothing. Her number still refused to connect no matter how many times he tried to call, her work refused to accept his calls, and she never answered her door when he knocked; it was as if she’d disappeared.

Sooner than he would have liked, the world came calling and was once more he descended into the hum and rush of what his life had become. Promotions, interviews, meetings about possible projects and charity events. The next several months of his life passed in a blur. But every night, without fail he would try to call. And every night he would receive the same “this call cannot be completed” message when he’d dial her number.

Until everything came crashing down.

Tom was utterly exhausted. He’d been awake for more hours now than he even cared to count and he knew in all honesty that he should have long since been sleeping. He had tried desperately to sleep. But sleep was ever elusive and, try as he might, it steadfast refused to come. So he’d found himself pacing around his hotel room instead; another basic, boring room in a hotel whose name he couldn’t even recall let alone its actual location. He’d been running around so much as of late that he’d begun to feel a constant and distressing sense of disconnect with the world around him.

He’d been pacing for the better part of an hour before stopping and grabbing his distressingly silent mobile from the desk. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he took a deep breath and dialed the number he knew by heart. He held his breath as he waited…For it to ring, for Amy to answer. Please, please answer, he pleaded. Please.

“We’re sorry but the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”  An oddly cheering pre-recorded voice answered.

The line clicked off.

Tom pulled the phone from his ear to stare blankly at its screen. Disconnected? No, that couldn’t be right. He refused to accept that. Absolutely refused. He took a deep breath and dialed again.

“We’re sorry but the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

Click.

Without conscious thought, he pulled back his arm and threw the phone at the far wall with all the force he could muster. A giddy wave of hysterical laughter rushed out of him at the sound of the glass screen cracking on impact. It sounded hollow and so very wrong to his own ears. But he couldn’t seem to halt it now that he’d begun. It was as if someone had flipped a switch in him and all he could see was a violent shade of red. Books, pillows, clothing, anything his fingers touched ended up thrown across the room, heedless of the mess or noise  they made as he did so. And just as suddenly as he’d snapped, he came back to himself, eyes widening as he took in the destruction around him.

Tom staggered backwards, nearly tripping over his feet, and sat wordlessly on the edge of the bed. His mind racing along with his heart and the world still felt alarmingly off balance, leaving him gripping the edge of the mattress in a vain effort to steady himself. Panic roiled through him as the realization began to sink in. Amy was gone and she wasn’t coming back. Oh god, she wasn’t coming back.

Next

[winterisakiller]

Brave Face - Part One

Title: Brave Face

One Shot: 1/3

Character: Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Genre: Angst

Rating: M

Summary: A wedding is one of the happiest days of one's life. It is the beginning of the future and for Amelia Evans this was no different. Tom HIddleston stood watching her as she walked down the aisle while considering every choice that had brought him here. For better or worse, his life was fundamentally changed.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So full disclosure this story came about completely by accident. I had this vague idea in my head and it probably would have stayed that way had I not been talking to @redfoxwritesstuff and said “So I have this idea...”. This literally grew from a ‘huh, this should be straight forward’ to ‘holy fuck what have I gotten myself into?!’. All in all this is a 13,000 word one shot that has been split into three parts to make for easier posting/reading. Hope you all enjoy. 

So this is normally slotted for Thursday updates but as I’m a moron who hit ‘post’ instead of ‘save as draft’ part one is going up early.

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @blacksuitofdoom

The room was filled with the bright, potent scent of flowers. Everywhere he turned, Tom Hiddleston found garlands of wildflowers in pinks, and blues and yellows lining the walls, the windows, and the aisle. It was beautiful and so perfectly her. She had always loved wildflowers, had always had them spread in bunches throughout her tiny flat. Their scent always seemed to cling to her skin. It was one of the many things he could now admit openly to always loving about her. She was calm and open and gentle in her care. Such a wonderful contrast to his own ambitious and vibrating nature. They had always been such a contrast. Two people who on first glance didn’t seem right at all but on further inspection just seemed to click.

 His head rose as he heard the door slowly creak open and the swell of violins filling the room. She stood, arm in arm with her father, smile blinding and wide. He felt his knees go weak at the sight of her; blonde hair piled elegantly at the nape of her neck, green eyes filled with warmth and happiness covered ever so slightly a veil of white lace, the soft and shimmering white of her dress with its floral overlay and cream ribbon cinching her waist. She was a vision. He could hear the murmurs of the people surrounding him and could see the faint blush that stained her cheeks.

 Tom fought the tears that were threatening to spill as she continued her slow walk down the aisle. He could see the shimmer in her eyes as her father leaned over to whisper in her ear. She was truly stunning; regal and graceful and absolutely perfect. Each step she took echoed the beating of his heart. And suddenly she was before him, a bright smile on her face, another step and she passed him.

 He could feel the lump in his throat growing as her father paused at the end of the aisle and, with a kiss to her cheek, turned and offered her hand to the man beaming before her. Tom wanted to hate him, wanted to scream and curse and beg her to change her mind. To pick him. But he held his tongue. That choice, that desire, was something he had absolutely no right to. And the bitter knowledge of that burned.

 Try as he might, Tom couldn’t make himself focus on the words the minister spoke. He could see the man’s lips moving, knew enough to get the gist of what was happening, but none of it seemed real. The only thing his mind could grasp was that Amelia, his dear, sweet Amy, was standing before him pledging her life to someone else. And he had no one to blame other than himself.

 He had met Amelia Evans what felt like a lifetime ago. They had been in the same circles at Cambridge; interacting but never quite connecting until the summer before their final year. He’d always thought she was a beautiful woman; bright and intelligent and not afraid to show it. She kept him on his toes and while they argued over points of philosophy and belief, Tom found himself captivated.

 By graduation they were nearly thick as thieves, with family and friends alike asking when they would finally settle down and make things official. Tom had always brushed them off; Amy was special to him, that he could not deny, but he was young and there was so much of life he’d yet to experience, to explore. Marriage and commitment were wonderful ideas, but not something he was even remotely ready to contemplate. She seemed to understand and accept his resistance; agreeing they were still young and this was not the right time for them to entertain such notions.

 They’d taken things how they’d come. Amy had been one of his largest supporters when he’d been accepted into RADA. She had gone to as many of his productions as she could between her work and the other commitments that consumed her days. Her support had meant everything and when he’d been approached by an agent and given the opportunity to really, truly do what he loved on a potentially wider scale, Amy had been right beside him encouraging him.

 It hadn’t been an easy path; he was frequently away filming, auditioning, getting his face and name out there. There wasn’t an opportunity he didn’t take or a part he didn’t try for. All the while he’d been secure in the notion that Amy would always be there, in the background offering her love and her support.

 And then seemingly out of nowhere it happened.

 Suddenly his name was on everyone’s lips, he was sought after for roles, wanted at parties, his face was on billboards and buses. He’d done it and Amy had been there, the pride and happiness radiating from her in waves. Tom had thrown himself into the melee completely; there were so many chances he had to take, so many people he couldn’t not meet. This boom wouldn’t last, he knew that, and he could not let himself miss any chance, any moment. And she was there, quietly cheering him on from the sidelines. A gentle word of comfort when he needed it. His voice of reason and encouragement.

 But along with opportunity came an attention that Tom was equally baffled and fascinated by. Suddenly, he was the one women approached at parties, the one they stopped in the streets, the one they talked of and fantasized about online. It had seemed so surreal at first. He couldn’t understand what had changed, what was so different about him that caused the heads of admittedly stunning women to turn and give him a second glance. It was immensely flattering and he’d flirted shamelessly with him. What was the harm in enjoying the attention they lavished on him?

 He hadn’t truly acted on any of it. Not at first. A whispered word here, a touch there, a brush of lips against a cheek that lingered just a fraction too long. It was almost a test, how are would they let him push? How far would he let himself? How much could he get away with? Hollywood was such a long cry from the life he’d known in London. And what was truly the harm if Amy would never know?

 So he continued to dance along that line of flirting and seduction until he’d found himself pressing the warm and willing body of a gorgeous woman who’s name escaped him into the soft mattress of his hotel room. Her nails in his back, her breathless cries in his ear and they chased release in each other. And the next morning it was easy to convince himself that it had been just a momentary lapse in judgement. It was done and over with, though he’d kept the number she’d left on the pillow beside him, why he couldn’t truly say. It wouldn’t happen again and there was no reason at all that Amy had to know about it. They were happy and this would be a complication that neither of them honestly needed.

 Tom could still so clearly picture her face the day Amy had confronted him. The day everything had changed. Her flat had been his first stop, save for dropping his luggage off, since landing at Heathrow that morning. It had been far too long and he’d missed her. He hadn’t been prepared for the quiet, cool reception she’d given him. He’d found her sitting in the living room, staring at the opened magazine in her lap. Amy had raised her head up as she heard him enter the flat; pain, confusion, and a desperate sort of hope shining in her bright eyes. Wordlessly, she’d stood and held out the magazine to him. Colorful photographs greeted him; images of himself and…Holly? Hannah? Heather? (God, he couldn’t remember her name) kissing and grinding against one another in the backseat of a cab. Followed by images of them kissing and heading into an elevator at his hotel. Fuck, Luke was going to murder him.

 “Is this true?” Her voice was steady but quiet, her eyes pleading with him to tell her that these pictures were false, that he hadn’t done exactly what she feared he had.

 Tom swallowed thickly, casting his eyes quickly downward. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He tried to gather his thoughts, tried to figure out what he was going to say.

 “Thomas, please tell me you didn’t do this…” She only ever called him Thomas when she was cross with him.

 “Amy, you have to understand…” he pleaded, needing to keep her calm. He tried desperately to think of a way to explain. Amy would understand, she always understood. Hell, she had seen firsthand just how much his life had changed in the last year. These things happened. And it wasn’t as if he and the girl (…God, what was her name?) were serious. “It was just one night…”

 Clearly, that had been the absolute wrong thing to say. Amy paled; he watched in horror as all the color drained from her face. He reached out to her but she backed away as if she’d been burned. She shook her head, eyes filling with tears. “You son of a bitch,” she hissed. “You fucking, FUCKING bastard.”

 “Amy, please…” He took several steps towards her, his hands raised in supplication. She had to understand. It hadn’t meant anything. He had to make her understand.

 “No,” she bellowed. “No! Fuck you, Hiddleston!” She shook her head in angry disbelief. “To think I even thought that you…” Her voice trailed off and after several moments she let out a quiet, mirthless laugh. When she raised her head again and locked her eyes with his, Tom was taken aback by the anger and fury in them. This wasn’t the gentle, understanding Amy he knew. “We are finished,” she hissed. “I want you gone and I never want to see you darken my doorway again. Get your shit and get out.”

 And with that she turned on her heel and left. He winced as he heard the door slam behind her.  

 Tom found himself standing in the now empty living room, wondering just what the fuck had happened; just how all of this had spiraled so far out of his control. He’d never seen Amy like that. Never. She was the calm one, the rational one. She was the one he had always turned to when he needed a voice of reason. This wasn’t his Amy.

 She now was gone.

 The idea didn’t want to compute. She would have to come back, Amy always came back. They’d had their fair share of arguments throughout the years and even when he knew she was so angry she was fit to burst, even when she left to clear her mind, she’d always, always, always came back. But as the minutes crept by his conviction began to waiver.

 Tom swallowed thickly. Surely she hadn’t meant it. She was angry, clearly, and had needed to scream at him. To vent. And once she had calmed she would come back and they could talk about all of this rationally.

 But soon an hour had passed. And then another.

 Nothing. No sound of her feet on the stairs, no jingle of keys in the front lock. Just nothing.  

 He pulled out his mobile and cursed. He’d completely forgotten that he had placed it on silent mode while he’d been on the train earlier that day and hadn’t yet switched it off. He hadn’t been quite sure what he had expected when he turned on the screen. But it certainly hadn’t been this. Nearly a hundred texts and far too many missed calls glared back at him from the tiny screen. All from Luke.

 Shit. Shit. Shit.

 Bracing himself he cued up his voicemail and worked through the waiting missives. Each message grew steadily more frantic until finally ending in: “If you do not get your sorry ass into my office yesterday I will drop you, so help me God.”

 With a weary sigh of resignation, Tom made his way out of Amy’s small flat, making sure to text Luke that he was indeed on his way. He needed the man in his life; his career depended on him having someone he could trust to keep his name, his face, in the right circles. And as far as he was concerned, Luke was it.

 The meeting had been more or less what he had expected; nearly an hour of both Luke and his agent giving him a sound and thorough bollocking about his carelessness. Yes, he admitted, he’d been stupid and reckless. Yes, he would make sure he was more discreet in his extracurricular activities from this point onward. Yes, Amy knew. No, she’s currently not speaking to him. No, he doesn’t think she will say anything to the press. Yes, he trusts her.

 He tried to ignore the way Luke was looking at him; both in weary frustration and resigned yet seething bewilderment. He’d known that Luke and Amy had gotten on well on the occasions they’d had the chance to interact. Just as he was well aware that Luke, his friend, did not approve at all of what he’d done. But Luke, his publicist, would do all he could to make the worst of it go away. To spin whatever the fallout was in Tom’s favor. That was what he was paying him for. But he couldn’t shake the unease he felt at Luke’s silent disapproval. At his quiet condemnation.

 Looking back it was easy to see just how far off track he’d let himself go. How easily he’d let the flattery and unexpected praise of his peers, the fans, the press go to his head. How easily he’d let himself be led by his desires and not by his head. All he had seen was the warm smiles and the willing bodies. God, he’d been a complete and utter ass.

 But as he’d left Luke’s office that day, Tom had been so convinced that he had everything in hand. That this would eventually blow over and Amy would come back to him. He didn’t let it worry him when she hadn’t called by the next morning. Nor the following afternoon. She was angry and she needed time to calm, time to think things through. But by that evening, the unease had slowly started to creep in. And when the boxes arrived the following morning that unease began to blossom into a full blown, disbelieving fear. He’d signed for the boxes in confusion and carried them into his living room.

 Inside he’d found various books, pieces of clothing, and several other small bits and bobs that he hadn’t realized had found their way into Amy’s flat over the several years they had been together. And sitting on top of the final box of clothing was the key he had given her to his own flat along with several pictures and various things he had given her over the years. He shook his head in disbelief. No, this had to be some sort of mistake.

 Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and his keys and hurried across town to hers. There had to be some other explanation for this. There simply had to be. But only as he tried his key in the lock only to find it wouldn’t budge, did it start to dawn on him that maybe he had been terribly wrong in his belief that everything would be alright. He tried the key again. Nothing. A white hot panic surged through him. This couldn’t actually be happening. He knocked on the door. No answer. He tried again. Nothing.

 Maybe she wasn’t home. That must be it. Okay. He pulled his phone out. He would call her and she would clear all of this up. He dialed the number quickly, shoving the phone against his ear. “We’ve sorry this call cannot be completed as dialed. Please check that the number you have dialed is correct and try again.”

 Tom pulled the phone from his ear and stared in stunned disbelief. Wordlessly, he hung up and dialed again. The same message greeted him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t seem to think straight. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t say for sure how long he stood there, staring at her locked door. All he knew was this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. They were Tom and Amy, no matter what happened they were always Tom and Amy.

 When his mobile rang sometime later, he’d half convinced himself that it was Amy calling to explain, to forgive. But his mother’s name was what greeted him as he pulled the phone from his pocket. He let out a resigned sigh and answered. “Hey mum.”

 “Tom, darling, are you alright?” Diana’s voice was as warm and soothing as it had ever been. For that brief moment he was a little boy again and sure in the knowledge that everything would be alright because his mum was there. “…I’ve not heard from you in several days.”

 He leaned back against the wall, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been a bit busy as of late, mum. Nothing to fret over. Are you alright?”

 She chuckled softly. “I’m well, dear. Quite well. Looking forward to tomorrow afternoon.”

 “Oh? What’s happening?” Something was niggling at the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite seem to catch hold.

 He heard the exasperation clearly in his mother’s tone. “Seriously, Thomas, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” He didn’t speak for several moments as the realization dawned. He cursed at himself, yet another disaster to add to the ever growing list. After it became clear he wasn’t going to speak, Diana let out a sigh of her own. “You and Amelia are supposed to be coming by. Sarah is here and Emma plans on trying to stop by sometime in the late morning. It’s been ages since I’ve had all of my children together under my roof. Please tell me you’re still coming.”

 “I…I should be able to mum,” he hoped she hadn’t caught the uncertainty in his words. “But I don’t know about Amy…Somethings come up…” He didn’t know what to say to her, how to even begin to explain what was becoming startlingly clear; Amy was gone and he wasn’t completely certain any more that she would be coming back. But she will, he told himself fiercely. She has to. “But um…I’ll be there, mum. Alright? I can’t not see my mum.”

 “Good lad.”

 He set out early the next day, hoping to avoid as much of the commuter traffic that always seemed to clog the roadways as possible. He was acutely aware of the silence in the car and found himself missing the way Amy would hum along with the radio or spout random facts about the places they passed. He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts away. This would all blow over, it had to, and if not…He tried not to think on it. But if not…Then he would move on. It wasn’t as if she was the only woman in the world. There were others. Yes, she was important but she wasn’t where the world started and ended. He was still young, he had plenty of time to figure it out. And in the end either she would be there or she would not. But it wouldn’t come to that. He was certain.

 The house was much the same as it had been the last time he’d been there…God, how long ago was that? Christmas maybe? Yes, Christmas. Now it was heading into late August. He shook his head as he killed the engine. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as the front door opened and Diana jogged out onto the drive towards him. Tom quickly climbed out of the car and pulled her tightly into his arms. God, he’d missed this. Missed his family.

 “Oh my darling boy,” she whispered into his chest as she returned his tight hug with equal fervor. “It’s so wonderful to have you home.”

 “It’s good to be home,” he breathed into her short, white hair. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this, missed home, until that moment. “Are Sarah and Emma here?”

 He felt her nod into his chest, “They’re inside.” She pulled back and watched him with a quiet, but no less intense, scrutiny. Her brows slowly rose in concern. “Tom,” she started, her tone soft and light. “What’s happened? And don’t you dare tell me nothing. I’ve known you all of your life, don’t you go thinking you can lie to me.”

 Tom let out a soft sigh. This was certainly not the place he wanted to have the conversation he knew his mother sought. “Let’s get in the house shall we?”

 Diana narrowed her eyes at him, staring for several moments before quietly nodding. “Alright. But then, young man, you are going to talk. Something’s happened and it’s clearly got you out of sorts.”

 He nodded and allowed her to lead him into the house. There was something about coming back to the home you’d grown up in. It was comforting in a way that Tom couldn’t quite put into words. He could hear the soft rumble of his sisters’ voices echoing from the kitchen. Diana, who was several paces ahead of him, made her way into the kitchen he heard her call out, “Look who I’ve just found in the front drive.”

 “Tom!” his elder sister yelled, jumping up to embrace him as he made his way into the brightly lit room. A laugh of surprise fell from his lips as he gratefully returned her embrace. “Glad to see that fame hasn’t gotten you forgetting your family, little brother,” she teased with affection. Sarah pulled back and he saw her looking behind him in expectation. “Where’s Amy? It’s been ages since I’ve seen her...”

 A sharp jolt of unease threaded through him. “She um…She couldn’t make it,” he finally answered, offering what he hoped was an apologetic smile. He could see the confusion in Sarah’s eyes. Amy was as much a part of the family as he was, as far as his elder sister was concerned. She never missed a chance to visit, especially not when Sarah and Emma were sure to be there. He cleared his throat and tried to think of a way to explain. “Things…Things haven’t been going too well as of late and we’re rather on…on a bit of a break.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, not knowing quite what else to say.

 “You’re unbelievable!” Emma hissed at him as she jumped up from her seat opposite, her light eyes narrowing as she brought her hands down on the counter with surprising force causing everyone to jump at the sudden noise.

 Diana blinked in confusion. “Emma! What on earth…?”

 Tom watched as his younger sister gathered herself before she turned towards their mother. He could see the disbelief and ire burning in her eyes. “Tom’s become quite the liar as of late.” Her words were matter of fact and felt like a slap in the face.

 “Now wait just a minute…” Tom started, taking several steps towards Emma, his own eyes narrowing in anger.

 But Emma stood her ground, arms crossed at her chest, staring her elder brother down. “You are not on a break, Tom. You went off and fucked around and she left you and you bloody well know it.” She took a deep breath, marshalling her thoughts. “And what I can’t begin to fathom is why the fuck you did it. What were you thinking? Were you even thinking? My God, this whole mess has seriously gotten to your head, hasn’t it? Because the Tom I know…My big, dork of a brother…That Tom wouldn’t do this.”

 The words felt like a blow to the stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs, and he stood gaping at her. Around him, he could hear the confused and agitated voices of his mother and Sarah, firing questions at both him and Emma. He couldn’t make sense of any of it. “You don’t understand,” he finally managed to choke out. “This is between Amy and me, it’s none of your business!” The anger was coming back in full force. How dare Emma say such a thing! He was still her brother…That hadn’t changed. He had simply needed to adapt to the changing world around him. That didn’t make him a bad person. That didn’t change who he was fundamentally. Why couldn’t she see that? And just what did she think gave her the right to stick her nose into a situation that clearly did not concern her?

 “She told me, Tom,” Emma hissed, ire warring with disappointment in her eyes. “I’d stopped by her flat to return a book she’d lent me and I watched her nearly fall to pieces in front of me. My god, she was near hysterical! I’ve never in all the years I’ve known her, ever heard nor seen Amy so bloody shattered! She loved you and you threw that away! How could you?”

 “It was a fucking mistake!” The words flew from him in panicked anger. “Things just got completely out of hand! It’s not like I sought out to fucking hurt her!” He finished, his chest heaving with the effort and with the anger coursing through him.

 “Thomas.” He froze at the sound of his name and found himself turning slowly towards his mother. Diana’s voice had taken on the quiet, disappointed tone that he’d only ever heard when he’d well and truly messed up. He could see the disappointment clear in her eyes and it cut him near to the bone. “What have you done?”  

 He couldn’t stand the look on her face and hadn’t been able to meet her eyes as he’d stumbled through his explanations. His reasons. But he could feel her eyes, along with Sarah and Emma’s on him, and wanted nothing more than to disappear. For the floor to swallow him whole. Anything to make it stop.

 It was with a weary exhaustion that Tom finally pulled himself from the car later that evening. His head was spinning and he felt far older than his thirty-one years allowed. Cursing, he fumbled with his keys the front door lock and once it gave way, pushed his way inside the darkened hallway. He could still so clearly see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes and the judgement and anger in both of his sisters’. How things had gotten so far off track, he didn’t know. Yes, he’s made a mistake and he could and would own that. He’d been stupid and careless, but even so…He ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could take any of it back. And unless Amy talked to him, he couldn’t work with her to move past it. If she would let them. No, she had to. She’d always been there, always had his back. She couldn’t just walk away now.

 And though he knew it was futile, he checked his mobile once more; the stubborn hope that she had called refused to let him be.

 Nothing.

 He felt the tightening in his chest grow as he fought to control his breathing. She would come back and everything would be fine. He had to believe that. He simply had to. But the weeks passed and nothing. Her number still refused to connect no matter how many times he tried to call, her work refused to accept his calls, and she never answered her door when he knocked; it was as if she’d disappeared.

 Sooner than he would have liked, the world came calling and was once more he descended into the hum and rush of what his life had become. Promotions, interviews, meetings about possible projects and charity events. The next several months of his life passed in a blur. But every night, without fail he would try to call. And every night he would receive the same “this call cannot be completed” message when he’d dial her number.

 Until everything came crashing down.

 Tom was utterly exhausted. He’d been awake for more hours now than he even cared to count and he knew in all honesty that he should have long since been sleeping. He had tried desperately to sleep. But sleep was ever elusive and, try as he might, it steadfast refused to come. So he’d found himself pacing around his hotel room instead; another basic, boring room in a hotel whose name he couldn’t even recall let alone its actual location. He’d been running around so much as of late that he’d begun to feel a constant and distressing sense of disconnect with the world around him.

 He’d been pacing for the better part of an hour before stopping and grabbing his distressingly silent mobile from the desk. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he took a deep breath and dialed the number he knew by heart. He held his breath as he waited…For it to ring, for Amy to answer. Please, please answer, he pleaded. Please.

 “We’re sorry but the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”  An oddly cheering pre-recorded voice answered.

 The line clicked off.

 Tom pulled the phone from his ear to stare blankly at its screen. Disconnected? No, that couldn’t be right. He refused to accept that. Absolutely refused. He took a deep breath and dialed again.

 “We’re sorry but the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

 Click.

 Without conscious thought, he pulled back his arm and threw the phone at the far wall with all the force he could muster. A giddy wave of hysterical laughter rushed out of him at the sound of the glass screen cracking on impact. It sounded hollow and so very wrong to his own ears. But he couldn’t seem to halt it now that he’d begun. It was as if someone had flipped a switch in him and all he could see was a violent shade of red. Books, pillows, clothing, anything his fingers touched ended up thrown across the room, heedless of the mess or noise  they made as he did so. And just as suddenly as he’d snapped, he came back to himself, eyes widening as he took in the destruction around him.

 Tom staggered backwards, nearly tripping over his feet, and sat wordlessly on the edge of the bed. His mind racing along with his heart and the world still felt alarmingly off balance, leaving him gripping the edge of the mattress in a vain effort to steady himself. Panic roiled through him as the realization began to sink in. Amy was gone and she wasn’t coming back. Oh god, she wasn’t coming back.

Next Part

[hannah-deserved-better]

Castiel addresses his grief

This is chapter two of a new fic I have up based on 15X3 after Castiel leaves the bunker. Lots of raw angst and emotion and a step towards healing. Warning, this contains mentions of some domestic abuse and mention of a miscarriage. 

You can find Chapter one on my ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21426580/chapters/51052330

Pairing: Castiel and Hannah

"Castiel…" Hannah murmured as she sat huddled on the end of the bed, draped in a blanket while Castiel finished bandaging the last of her wounds. She cradled her cup of hot chocolate while her bare, swollen red feet soaked in a hot pail of water. She felt warm, the memory of the long walk she had just endured beginning to fade.

"That's the basic summary of the last five years," Castiel explained as he put the bandages on the table and sat down beside her. "Lucifer had a son who became my son. I… loved him, Hannah. Like he was my own. He had nothing but good in him; there was no trace of Lucifer in him. He destroyed his soul, helping people, and then God… Chuck- our father- took him from me."

Hannah gazed at Castiel's face. The pain was so clearly etched in his eyes. Her initial reaction to all of this news was to be wary of this Nephilim, and it confused her why Castiel would ever allow such a thing to live, but as Castiel continued his story, she found herself feeling sad that she had never known him. It was evident to her what a profound impact the boy had had on the other angel, and the grief of his loss was still so raw. 

"He was my son," Castiel murmured, dropping his gaze as his voice cracked ever so slightly. He said nothing for a moment, seemed to have to compose himself. When he did speak again, his voice was soft, heavy with emotion. "I know… I'm not supposed to feel this. I'm an angel… but I can't help it."

Hannah sighed and set the mug on the table and turned to him. She reached out and gently laid a hand on the top of his hand. He paused a moment before turning his hand over and gripping hers. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, the two pairs of deep blue eyes met, and for a moment, a brief moment, Hannah felt as though they had both become entranced in each other's gaze. The depth of feelings and emotions she saw in his, and the reassurance and sympathy she hoped she conveyed in hers seemed to bind them both somehow together.

"You told me once how emotions can be a dangerous temptation," Hannah said slowly. "How it's easy to get caught up in your feelings. I remember. I remember how it felt working with you; the emotions slowly seeping their way into my being." She thought about the past and how it was emotions that led to her wanting to give Caroline up, letting her return to her husband. She thought she was doing the right thing, but as it turned out…

It was Hannah's turn to drop her gaze, to feel her own emotions. The hurt and pain Caroline was feeling were still writhing around inside of her, and she hadn't quite sorted it out yet. She felt Castiel squeeze her hand, and she glanced up. "Emotions can cause so much pain," she told him. "It would be easier to simply turn them off and not have to worry about them. But… after having felt them so profoundly, I don't think I can go back to the way I once was. Can you?"

"No, I can't," he admitted sincerely. Hannah could sense the emotions he was barely keeping contained. Not just for the loss of the Nephilim, but for everything. The past decade of hurt and trauma was suddenly too much for him to keep away, and it all came up. 

"I only wanted to make things better," he said as tears began to trickle out of his eyes. "But no matter what I do, I always mess up, and everyone close to me gets hurt. I've done so many terrible things, I can't possibly make up for it but Jack… he was better than me. I wanted to make sure he was better than me."

His sad lament moved Hannah deeply. The pain and sorrow he had been through wasn't something she could easily make go away, but she needed to find a way to comfort him. To let him know he could confide in her. 

Hannah glanced around the motel room. It was a small room with two beds, and warm air bellowed out from the wall heater under the window. It was late, and all that could be heard was the hum of the heater and Castiel's distraught breathing. Slowly, she took the blanket that he had draped around her off and set it aside. He watched her with interest as she stood up, got her feet out of the pail, and dried off before returning to him.

"Let me help you," she urged as she came to stand beside him. Watching her for a moment, realization dawned on his face, and he stood up, taking off his trench coat and black suit coat and hung them up. Then he took off his own shoes and crawled up further onto the bed, slipping under the blankets. She took the blanket she had and draped it over him, and then she crawled into bed with him and pulled him over, letting him rest his head on her chest. She held him tight in her arms.

"Now," she instructed. "Give me all your pain and your grief." Castiel lifted his head to look at her. There was surprise in his eyes as if he'd never considered anyone would ever permit him something he so obviously needed, a literal shoulder for him to cry on.

"It's so much," he admitted. "Everything. The leviathans, all the death, and destruction I've caused in heaven and on Earth, you…"

"Me?" she raised a brow, confused. 

"You… how you died." He glanced away for a moment. "It was my fault." Hannah sighed as she remembered. Ephraim and Jonah, what had happened to Castiel. She felt the guilt inside of her over the situation. 

"That wasn't your fault," she said slowly as she pulled him back to her, clutching his head to her chest like he was more precious to her than treasure. "It… it was Ephraim and Jonah's plan. I was against it, but they talked me into it… I should have been stronger. What they did to you… that was my fault."

Castiel said nothing, just lay his head on her chest, indulging in the intimacy between them. After a while, he murmured, his voice heavy again. "I have no one anymore, Hannah," he whispered. "My actions have left me alone. The Winchesters don't trust me, and everything I did was for them. Maybe I never truly belonged with them. I have been caught between them and heaven for so long, always walking the thin line between my friends and my own kind. I thought I could have both; now I don't have anything."

With that, Castiel couldn't hold back the emotions anymore. He buried his face in her chest, and Hannah responded by holding him tight. And he wept. He wept hard, everything he had endured, everything he'd been through, it all came out right there as his body trembled in her arms. His pain affected her so profoundly she felt tears slowly creeping into her own eyes as she let him cry on her. "Shh…" she cooed softly into his hair.

The hours passed as Hannah held the weeping angel, saying nothing, just holding him, rubbing his back, smoothing his hair, letting him get everything out. After a time, it began to rain again outside. The soft tapping of the rain falling on the window and roof added to the sounds of sorrow. 

After many hours, Castiel finally lifted his head to look down into her face. His eyes were swollen and red as he squinted down at her. "Thank you," he offered. "No one's ever…"

"They should have," she responded. There was a pause between them before he took a deep sigh.

"You… should sleep," he told her. "If you only have half your grace, you need rest." She shook her head and looked away. She began to think about Caroline about her vessel's pain and how she had been avoiding it.

"Hannah," he murmured as he reached over and brushed a strand from her hair. "What is it, what's wrong?"

Now it was her turn to feel emotion. She tried to sort out her thoughts and feelings. "If I sleep, she'll find me," she began. "Caroline…"

"Wait, I thought you said she was willing," he responded as he shifted in bed so that his head was propped up on his elbow as he lay on his side to face her. 

"She did," Hannah began, laying flat on her back beside him and squeezing her eyes shut. "But only because she had no other choice."

"Hannah, tell me," Castiel urged. "Tell me what you are feeling."

Hannah pursed her lips and sorted out her thoughts before returning his gaze. "Caroline has not had the best life," she began. "And it's all my fault. What happened to her, it was all because of me." She paused a moment before continuing. "I thought I was returning her to her husband out of compassion. I felt sorry for what I'd put her through over the year, and I wanted to give her her life back."

"Go on," Castiel encouraged as he reached over and lay a hand on her hands, which rested on her torso. He waited patiently for her to continue.

"It wasn't bad at first," Hannah began. "He was just happy to have her home. But as time went on, the trauma she suffered while she was with me began to cause trouble. Remember when we first met?"

Castiel nodded. "In the warehouse with all the angels Gadreel murdered," he answered. Hannah shuddered as she remembered it.

"He… hurt me, he tortured me, and he killed everyone else right in front of me," she began. "Caroline had never been through something like that before, and over the year, she endured so much more when we were together, and when she was finally allowed to return, she found she couldn't adjust. She had nightmares, flashbacks, a lot of trouble."

"I'm sorry," Castiel replied. "I know full well how traumatizing it can be. My own vessel, Jimmy Novak, I don't think I can ever forgive myself for what he went through."

"Well, Joe was even worse," Hannah began. "He was patient at first, but then things changed. He was paranoid she'd leave him again. He'd spend late nights out getting drunk and then coming home and taking things out on her. He blamed her for every little minor thing, and she felt she had to endure it because she felt guilty and responsible. She tried to tell him the truth about angels and possession, but of course, he didn't believe her. He claimed she was making it up to avoid facing the fact that she'd left him for another- for you."

Hannah swallowed when she saw the flash of guilt in Castiel's eyes and the look of sympathy as he realized where this story was heading. And Hannah felt overwhelmed with emotion. She sucked in a breath as the lump in her throat got bigger, and tears moistened her eyes. She had to pause to compose herself, not sure she could continue, but somehow she found the voice too.

"It wasn't terrible at first," she gasped out. "When she'd go out, he'd ask her where he'd been. He started checking her phone, her credit card. He was convinced that she'd leave him again, so he began to restrict how long she could be out, she controlled who she was with. Before I met her, she worked at a local library, and eventually, she was forced to quit because he couldn't even stand her to be away from the house for more than a few hours.

"Then, about two years after… me… she found out she was pregnant. She thought he'd be happy, but all he did was accuse her of sleeping with another. He was convinced you were still around…"

Castiel scoffed as he thought about that. "I had no idea," he said. Hannah nodded. She knew the truth, after all.

"She lost the child, the stress and the misery she was under was too much," she continued. "And that's when he really began to make her suffer. She quickly became a prisoner in her own home. He'd keep her inside; he put cameras all over, he'd even gone so far as to put bars on the windows and doors. She was locked up all day when he went to work. And when he came home, he'd beat her. For the smallest infraction, for not cooking dinner correctly, for having watched television for too long while he watched her on the camera from work. Sometimes he would beat her simply because he had a bad day at work.

"Whenever she tried to protest, he'd tell her she brought it all on herself for what she'd done." By now, Hannah couldn't contain her own emotions. She let out a sob, tears streaming down her face as she gathered everything she had left to finish the story. "When I found her, she was in the kitchen bleeding to death," she said. "He'd finally decided to be rid of her, and he'd stabbed her. I… I managed to heal her despite my diminished grace, and I managed to get us away, but now her pain, her misery, its all part of me. And whenever I close my eyes, her pain is there. The pain I caused…"

Now it was Castiel's turn to care for Hannah. Saying nothing, he simply reached out for her, and she gratefully moved into his arms, burying her face in his arms and crying.

Nothing else was said that night. Nothing needed to be said. Castiel had let out all the hurt and pain he'd felt and so desperately needed to release, and now Hannah was doing the same. There was an unspoken bond between them now — a bond based on mutual emotional hurt. Castiel was the only one who could understand her pain, other angels cared very little for their vessels, but she could never erase the pain and the torment she'd caused to Caroline, and she knew he felt the same way.

Hannah knew that neither of them was finished feeling pain. They both had a long way to go before they could feel the healing they both so desperately needed. But they knew they could do it together. She needed him, and he needed her, they were each other's rocks, the shoulder each of them needed.

What Hannah didn't realize was that, as she finally drifted off to sleep in Castiel's arms, he stayed awake. He lay in bed beside her, watching her, guarding her. He was afraid she'd disappear, that she was still one of Chuck's cruel tricks and that she'd be gone any minute and he'd be alone again. He'd watch over her tonight, tomorrow, and every night from here on out just to be sure she wasn't just an illusion.

[escapingreality1992]

Loki’s Immortals Healer Ch. 8

The healer lies in the infirmary still unconscious from her wounds, the damage deep from where she protected the blonde prince instead of letting some be inflicted on him. The people of Asgard wait until she wakes, worry apparent on their faces. It's been at least a day since the attack, since Clara's past came back to plague her, to torture her. None, however, worry as much as the raven-haired prince, not like Loki does.

The God paces his room wondering how to visit his love. They wanted the secret relationship to remain secret. He settles on disguising himself as a guard and ventures down to her. The disguise isn't necessary. There's no one to see, no one to listen in the infirmary. He reveals himself at this, sitting by her bed, holding her hand. He's always been good at sneaking around but he grows weary of pretending to be someone else just to see here. He loves Clara clear as day but he knows...no fears...what Odin would think. A God in love with a mortal. He wouldn't approve despite the love they share. 'Their lives are so short,' he'd say. 'Fleeting and gone in a blink of an eye,'

Loki doesn't care. His heart is full now that he has her. His life complete. Someone watches him with Clara in the shadows of the room. His mother, the one that saw through all the secrets. She watches her son as he sits with their healer, looks on as he bows his head and sheds tears for his beloved.

"Please wake up. Clara, please. I need you," the sorrowful words fall from his lips. He doesn't notice his mother's movements as she walks towards them.

"Loki, she'll be all right. Give it time. Our healers are doing all they can. The wounds were deep but they say she's healing well," Frigga tells him. She startled him but he doesn't pull up a disguise. She's known about their relationship for a while. Thor only found out the night he and Clara were tortured. Both his brother and his mother approve of it. They're glad he's found someone he could bring himself to care for. Loki's eyes are red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I can't lose her. She means too much to me. Why couldn't we have found them sooner? Stopped them before they could have hurt her?" Loki asks, anger and sadness mixing in his voice.

"We couldn't have know they were here until it was too late. Neither she or Hannah knew there was an insider among that apartment. They acted quickly to get to her. Nothing we could have done to stop them," Frigga tells him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"But I..."

"Someone comes. Loki, disguise yourself," Frigga warns. Using his magic, Loki pulls up the guard disguise, hiding in plain sight as both warrior brothers Erik and Josef come to spend a little time with the girl who changed their lives in an astounding way. Loki and Frigga exit the room and venture to Loki's chambers, the disguise disappearing.

"Try and be more careful. If someone had seen..."

"I'm tired of hiding. I love her and I don't care who knows. I'm in a constant state of worry. What if she never wakes? I wouldn't know how to cope with her death," Loki snaps, earning one of his mother's scrutinizing looks.

"I apologize. I'm only tired. I do mean what I say. I don't want to keep hiding our relationship. I desire to marry her and the moment she wakes, I plan to ask her outright if she would take me as her husband," Loki states, a look of determination on his features.

"Do as it pleases you then. Stop with your disguises. Visit her as yourself. She will wake Loki. She's strong enough to survive this. She has survived them once before, only this time, she has more to live for. She has you to live for," Frigga reassures him. Loki nods before entering his room, the absence of Clara beside him weighing heavy on his mind.

The next few days are tiring. Whenever Loki visits Clara, he no longer hides, sitting bu her side and holding her hand. He no longer cares who sees, who knows. He only wants to be near her as her body heals; a few scars have now embedded in her skin from the deeper wounds. He winces at some of them as the bandages are re-wrapped in different salves that would prove wonderful in healing the injuries; the scars don't bother him as he loves her no matter what she looks like.

On the fourth day, Clara's friend Hannah visits, eyeing Loki suspiciously, not fully trusting him, even though he helped in defeating the ones who tortured her. She thinks he still wants to do Clara ill will. This is not the case. He truly loves Clara, even from the moment she first entered his life.

"She hasn't woke yet. The healers say she is close to it though," he tells Hannah, his glistening green eyes never leaving Clara's face. He watches as she breathes, as she sleeps, the beauty of her face peaceful. Hannah and Loki don't speak to each other, the only thing the angel gives him is a nod, acknowledging his statement. She's sitting on the other side, her hand grasping Clara's, a silent prayer in her mind.

The only thought that runs through Loki's min is that he wants Clara as his bride. The next day would give him the chance to ask her the very question.

The next day Clara stirs but there is no one to greet her as he eyes crack open. Hannah has returned to her apartment and Loki - because he's so exhausted - has fallen asleep in his room, book in hand now splayed on his chest. Odin and Frigga are asleep also, holding each other close. Thor is with the Warrior Three and Lady Sif having a drink. Clara is alone. The thought that first crosses her mind is she needs to see her beloved prince, her Loki.

"Miss Clara. Thank goodness, you're awake. Wait a moment. Before you go anywhere, you must drink some water and we need to check your bandages," one of the healers tells her. As much as it slows her down from seeing Loki, she complies with their orders. As soon as she is cleared, she bolts from the room and searches for him, a surprise waiting for her when she approaches his chambers. Little does she know that a ring with a golden band and green gemstones awaits to be placed upon her finger.

Clara's POV

I knock on the door of Loki's chambers before trying the handle when no one answers. I find it unlocked and the sight before me nearly stops my heart. Loki is sound asleep, book on his chest, his bare chest. Silent as a mouse, I make my way over to him and sit down upon the soft sheets, close enough to let my fingertips graze his cheek.

"Mm. Clara, that feels wonderful. Don't stop," he mumbles in his sleep.

"Loki, wake up. Open your eyes," I say brushing my fingertips across his cheek again. Slowly, he opens his green eyes meeting my gaze.

"You're always here in my dreams. I do wish you'd awaken. I need you," he states.

"Loki, this isn't a dream. I'm here. Right now, I'm here with you,"

Reality hits him, a surprise but grateful expression spreads across his features, his hands grasping my face and pulling me into a deep kiss.

"Oh, Clara. How I've missed you. I worried you might've never recovered. But you're here with me now,"

"I'm here. I'm sorry if I scared you. I never intended for the assault to happen. I didn't know there were insiders," I told him, crawling on top of him.

"Wait, Clara. Please wait. They know about us. Our relationship. Everyone knows. I couldn't disguise myself for long. I-,"

"Sh. I don't care. Let them see. I want you. Only you," I interrupted him, kissing him, my tongue penetrating his mouth. I enveloped him in my arms, his hands ripping off the slip I wore, leaving me in only underwear. Our tongues fought for dominance, his hand exploring all over, the fiery passion filling the room. I moved my lips to his neck, eliciting a soft moan from him. I trailed more kisses to his chest, my hands swiftly removing his pants and underwear, freeing all of him. I lifted my body to take off my own before lowering myself, sheathing his length inside me, both of us moaning with my movements. Soft moans escaped from our lips, Loki guiding my hips as I rocked back and forth, my wetness coating him.

"Clara, I'm close,"

"Me too. Loki, you feel so good,"

We climaxed at the same time, still moving to ride it out, both of us breathing hard. We shared a few kisses while he stayed inside of me before I got off of him.

"Stay here. I've got something for you," he told me, sliding off the bed to retrieve something from the bookshelves lining his walls. I shifted under his soft sheets, not intending to leave anytime soon. He joined me back on the bed, sitting in front of me, a timid smile on his lips.

"Loki? What's -,"

"I've been thinking about this over the past few days. The assault really put things in perspective for me and now I can't go on without you in my life. I love you and I refuse to be parted from you. Clara Jean O'Neal, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Loki proposed, bringing tears of joy to my eyes. I didn't hesitate with my answer as he opened the box containing a ring that definitely would let everyone know I belonged to him.

"Yes, I will marry you," I accepted. His smile beamed bright as he pulled the ring out and slipped it on my finger, his mouth on mine sealing our forever love. The events that followed would put that same love to the test leading to more catastrophic events.

[allthelovehannahblog-blog]

finding a love for fashion

“While I tore away from the pattern of sweatshirts and leggings, it was like watching a baby giraffe learn how to walk when I began figuring out how to piece together outfits with the shoes and accessories to match.”

      Something went seriously wrong in my brain when I was a young teenager, I think I missed the part where we were supposed to learn about good taste in clothing. I mean it really just went right over my head and out the door. Hell, I still don’t know if I’ve grasped the concept and it’s been six years since I began my journey to finding my niche in fashion. But I do know one thing – I understand it a hell of a lot more now that I’ve had experience experimenting with styling.

      Let me explain this a lot less dramatically – every day in the eighth grade I wore a sweatshirt and leggings. Now, I’m sure if any of my former classmates are reading this they might remember the weekly cycle of hoodies, or maybe they don’t, I just know that it haunts me daily. This seems harmless, right? No one really cares what you wear in the eighth grade, so why am I making such a big deal about it? These seemingly pointless sweatshirts have ended up playing a far larger role in my life than I would have thought at the time. My sweatshirt inventory consisted of a University of Cincinnati sweatshirt I stole from my father (sorry dad, I know you loved that sweatshirt), some old hoodies from previous club soccer seasons thrown in the mix, and finally my beloved One Direction sweatshirt (may they rest in peace).  The 1D hoodie was short-lived, thanks to the boy who made fun of me in Spanish class (I’m not mad about it or anything). Every morning for that year of my life, I would roll out of bed and throw on one of these select sweatshirts, pair it with some leggings and maybe brush my hair.

      Diving deeper into this specific era of my life, there are many reasons that I could blame this lack of style on; being lazy, not having anything else to wear, not knowing how to style myself or my body type, anything really. But looking back from where I am now, I now know the true culprit of this phase – my lack of confidence. Obviously, I know thirteen-year-olds aren’t the most confident species, but I really (…and I mean really) suffered from low self-esteem. I figured if I could hide behind these pieces of clothing, they would draw the least amount of attention to me – therefore encouraging me to become the girl no one noticed.

      My parents always pushed me to change the way I carried myself, probably because they were sick of me looking the exact same every single day, but I couldn’t get past the little voice in my head that told me I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough to dress the same way as other girls. For years I just pushed the memories of my sweatshirt stage aside, wanting to block out how embarrassing I was in junior high. Well, how extra embarrassing I was in junior high.        

      It took some time, four years kind of time, to finally figure out how to break out of my shell and express myself appropriately; high school was a whole new world of self-discovery for me – I slowly gained that bit of confidence I had been missing. While I tore away from the pattern of sweatshirts and leggings, it was like watching a baby giraffe learn how to walk when I began figuring out how to piece together outfits with the shoes and accessories to match. Nothing ever went too terribly wrong, but I can promise you that some of these outfits weren’t always fit to be displayed in a fashion magazine (a bright red pleated skirt and a striped t-shirt is definitely a no, sorry). For a while I fell back into the pattern of outfit repeating every week, I still go through those phases every now and again, sometimes it can all come down to where I am mentally.

      This past year has really done wonders for me, I truly began to pinpoint the exact style I want to be known for; I think being away from high school has really helped with that. When you’re stuck in the same place every day for four years you tend to get sucked into the habit of not really caring how you look. I’ve discovered that my personality can be shown through what I’m wearing. It took some experimenting to really pinpoint what it meant to understand fashion – and my god am I beyond happy to have made that realization.

 all the love,

hannah

[hiyo-silver]

Apple Cider

Summary: The losers always do the same thing. Every fall is the same: apple cider, brownies, and The Nightmare Before Christmas.

ao3 + my masterlist 

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @cozystan @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @vampbyler

This a little birthday present for Hannah! @reddiesetrichie I hope you had a lovely birthday and I hope you enjoy the fic!!!!

The crisp fall air flows effortlessly in through the front door as Stan struggles to shut the door behind him.”I’m home, nobody set the house on fire, yeah?” he calls in question, the question would sound comedic to anyone outside of their life, but it’s a valid assumption seeing as he’d left them baking brownies when he’d gone to get groceries.

The seven of them have always been chaotic and messy and loud, but that’s often how they like it. The date is October 28th and it’s one of their last quiet days at home together before the holiday season truly ramps up. Stan unravels his scarf from his neck and hangs it carefully on his rack on the wall, adding his coat atop it afterwards.

He runs his hands through his dark hair and looks himself in the hall mirror before going to join the others in the kitchen. His nose is tinted pink from the cool air, as well as the olive skin on his cheeks, his green eyes shine with the wateryness of the outdoors. He’d be embarrassed if he was to see anyone but the six loves of his life.

He finally steps into the warm kitchen, his boots clomping against the wood floor, completely ruining his effort to step up behind Beverly and hug her around the waist, which he does anyways. Since he couldn’t surprise her, her decides to tickle her sides instead; this results in a high shriek from her, turning quickly to give him an expression of false anger.

“How was shopping, did you get the apple cider?” she asks with a grin that makes her freckles crinkle up in her smile. He loves the little wrinkles around her eyes when she smiles, the familiar green shine is another favorite of his, he has a habit of thoroughly studying each of their faces when he can; simply a part of the pure warmth he feels whenever he sees them. If he can memorize every piece, maybe he can imagine them detailed enough to enjoy that warmth all the time.

“Yup, and the marshmallows Mike wanted,” he says as he pulls away just enough to survey the kitchen for anything they may have done in the process of baking, only seeing the mess they’d left of flour and box of eggs on the counter. “No scorch marks this time, I’m proud.”

“Hey, we can be successful sometimes,” Ben quips, sticking his tongue out at the other boy. Stan simply walks over and considers wiping the chocolate off Ben’s lip but instead presses his own lips to them, warm and soft.

“You taste good,” Stan teases, wiping another mark off Ben’s cheek with a teasing grin that his lovers have all learned to love. They may not always understand his humor, but they do enjoy it even when they’re confused. At least him being humorous means he’s happy, and having them all happy is the best they can do.

“You do too, new chapstick?” Ben asks with a little grin, he licks his lips for a moment of processing. “Peppermint,” he says surely, looking Stan in the eye with a menacing grim merely in the spirit of feeling successful.

“Yup,” Stan returns with his own grin, looking over to Bill and Eddie, both sitting on the marble counter and swinging their legs back and forth. One of Bill’s hands is in Eddie’s and one is holding onto a chocolatey spoon from making the brownies. Eddie only lays his head on Bill’s shoulder breathing evenly and generally looking content despite being zoned out.

“Hey, you awake?” Richie asks as he pops into the kitchen, immediately noticing Eddie leaning on Bill’s shoulder with his brown eyes covered by his thin eyelids. Eddie jumps slightly and Bill glances over as well, both of them emerging from their own little worlds.

Eddie nods, “Just getting some rest before you came back, you know how much it takes to keep up with you?” he teases with his own sleepy smile as the fire returns to his eyes, the brown becoming even deeper as the fog clears up. His eyes and hair rival the shade of the chocolate spoon that Bill is finally getting off the counter to clean it off.

Richie blows a raspberry in Eddie’s direction, slapping Bill on the left asscheek as he walks to the sink, causing Bill to whip around to wink at him, which Mike notices over at the sink himself. Mike grins back, chewing his lip to avoid chewing them out, though it definitely can be a contest with them sometimes.

“Hey Bill, giving me a hand now?” he asks warmly, taking the sticky spoon from Bill’s hands to put it in the warm water to soak with the other baking utensils. Bill nods with a small smile, “Can you help me load these into the dishwasher? It’s probably too much to hand wash,” Mike says with his own nod.

“Gotcha, Mikey,” Bill agrees, rolling his thick sleeves up to his elbows to keep his flannel dry. He pulls the measuring cup from the water with a grimace at the feeling of the water on his skin. He turns the sink up to a warm setting to rinse it out one final time. Both he and Mike get droplets of water redirected at them.

“Ah, careful,” Mike chuckles warmly, turing the sink off for Bill as Bill goes to place the cup on the top row of the dishwasher, “You should work more on the plates, less splatter,” he jokes, ruffling his big hand into Bill’s ginger hair.

“Actually I think I’m going to go get ready, you good with this?” Bill asks, his wide blue eyes meeting Mike’s deep coffee colored ones. He gives an innocent smile, really just one to avoid responsibility at all costs, though they usually let him off the hook, knowing the responsibility he took over them so many years ago in Derry, Maine.

Mike nods with a small sigh, smiling slightly. It’s almost funny to him how Bill can turn on the puppy dog face so easily and so quickly. “Only because you’re cute,” he says, drying his hand quickly on the towel and brushing his thumb on Bill’s cheekbone.

Bill smiles back, a happy hum escaping his throat as Mike touches his cheek, a hot blush rising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Why thank you, Michael Hanlon,” Bill says, making an attempt to be smooth but his voice shakes with a giggle that wills itself to escape.

Bill jogs himself up to the shared room they have, their bed unmade. It makes him chuckle, they’d spent so much to get it custom built to be long enough for them all to fit but they never make their bed in the morning, the sheets always wrinkled and the blankets all strewn about. They all like different levels of heat in their sleep, leaving it all a mess of blankets and sweaty skin. They’d have it no other way.

He opens one of his drawers, pulling out the fleece yellow fabric. He shakes it out so it’s unfolded properly. He grins to himself. It’s Halloween soon enough, costumes can start now if he so pleases. He undresses, frowning slightly at the fact that he did in fact get his flannel sleeve wet, but only at the edge of the fold so it isn’t so bad, he’s changing anyways.

He pulls on the onesie, pulling the hood up even before zipping it all the way up with the satisfying hum of the zipper on plastic. He looks himself in the mirror, smiling at the face on the hood, that of Pikachu from Pokemon. He, Richie, Eddie, and Stan used to watch it together on the worn couch in the Denbrough basement. Of course it’s meant to spark memories, but also looked at the coziest one at Target, and the most like something that would make the others chuckle.

He starts to leave the room and just as he is about to open the door when the door opens before he has the chance to open it. Before him stands Richie, he should have known. Richie is the only other person in the house who can be as lazy as Bill.

Richie suppresses a laugh at Bill’s appearance. “Nice look,” he chuckles out. “Can you say pika-pika?” he teases with a smug expression. Bill pouts back at him, sticking his tongue out for a moment.

“No, but I can kiss you,” Bill says equally as smugly, leaning in to peck Richie on the tip of his nose, leaving the boy giggling at the ticklish feeling of Bill’s chapped lips.

“You need to use more chapstick, dickweed,” Richie smirks, “I was about to get ready in comfy clothes too,” he admits, punching Bill playfully in the shoulder. “We’ll probably all nap together on the couch with a movie tonight, it’ll be nice,” he says, already setting the expectation in his head.

“Definitely,” Bill hums with a soft smile, walking back and plopping back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over himself childishly with a sweet sigh. “I’m tired,” he hums out, watching Richie’s back as he pulls off his shirt. He chews his lip at the slight muscles moving against his pale skin, the freckles that dot his back looking like constellations in Bill’s happily biased eyes.

“You can nap when we all get settled, promise,” Richie teases in his shirtless state, kissing the top of Bill’s head happily, “We’re probably watching The Nightmare Before Christmas,” Richie grins, one of his absolute favorites for the Halloween season.

Bill sits himself up, just continuing to wait for Richie to change so they can go down together. Richie finally pulls up some Spongebob pajama pants and a plain gray v-neck. He finally turns around and puts his hands out to help Bill into a standing position. “The brownies are gonna be really good, ya’think?” he asks with an excited grin, Richie’s sweet tooth has always been the largest, he can’t help but guzzle candy and sugary drinks.

“They will be, I would know, I licked the spoon,” Bill says with his own chuckle, clasping his fingers contently with Richie’s so they could walk downstairs together in their respective silly and childish pajamas.

It’s easy to see that nearly all seven of the losers let their childishness and immaturity bleed into their adulthood together. Bill’s psychologist doesn’t seem to understand him being the way he is as an adult, even nearly nonverbal around anyone but his partners. They’d been deeply traumatized, but time together helps heal the wounds of their pasts.

Richie and Bill finally find themselves in the living room, plopping on the couch to find the places they often claim, it’s always a race to the loveseats for these guys. They follow the three c’s in their relationships. Communication, care, and lots and lots of cuddling.

Ben comes in next with a silver bowl of popcorn, placing it on the coffee table. He spots Bill’s onesie apparel even under the snuggly blanket he and Richie had chosen, “You went straight for the nostalgia, huh?” he asks just as teasingly as Richie had been, all of them clearly remember the Pokemon series from their childhoods in vivid detail.

“Yup,” Bill hums, obviously quite proud of himself in his appearance despite the fact that he’s already overheating, but at least he is cozy. “I like remembering. At least the happy stuff,” he says, the second part coming out in a smaller and more shy voice. He doesn’t like remembering the difficult parts. Even though Pennywise has escaped his mindscape finally, Georgie still haunts his nightmares on occasion.

Ben settles himself on the very end of the loveseat, snuggling up to Bill’s side to leech off his warmth and keep close, hopefully in a comforting way. He’s been trying his best to be better at noticing when Bill is upset about something, he hopes to be better at comfort but he generally sees himself as mostly socially socially inept through adulthood, but the losers would never judge him. It’s just one of many millions of reasons he loves them.

Mike comes in next, the brownies they made as a group all stacked neatly onto a serving plate, making all of their mouths water as soon as they see them and the rich smell fills the room. “Gimme, gimme, gimme,” Richie begs with a pleading smile in Mikes direction.

Mike chuckles at his tone, setting the plate close to the loveseat (bursting already with three people on it) before going to sit on the other loveseat and already messing with the remotes to find his way to Netflix and look through the Halloween movies, only to remember Richie’s insistence on The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Bev trails in next, plopping herself happily in the lap of Mike, pulling the nearby blanket over the two of them with a satisfied sound of her own. “Same movie that we watch every year?” she asks, nibbling at a piece of popcorn, obviously content with the situation her statement is meant to reference. They watch the same movies every year. None of them are any too fond of change, and it’s just fine for all seven of them.

Eddie comes in draped around Stan’s shoulders sleepily, the two of them settling on the other couch with Mike as he looks around their circle to make sure all have settled. Bill is laying with his head in Richie’s lap, already probably drifting off to sleep, understandably so due to how he’d been up early working on stuff for his class the next day. Richie is happily knawing on his brownie, looking expectantly at Mike to start the movie. Stan cuddles up to Bev who is already snuggled into Mike’s lap. Eddie leans his head on Stan’s shoulder and breathes out in comfort. Bill only stirs slightly as the opening song plays, Eddie not at all.

It’s the same every year, and they would never dare have it any different. They can imagine themselves deep into their sixties all on the couch watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with brownies and popcorn, several cats probably settled at their feet.

[officiallaxgirl]

Things I Wish I Knew Before I Played College Lacrosse

Let me preface this by saying getting to play in college is an honor, and something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. No matter your division or alignment, you’ve accomplished something that soooo many people dream about. 

Something that people don’t stress enough about playing in college is the mental stress. Playing a college sport can be draining, both mentally and physically, and even emotionally. You’ve invested years of your life into your sport, and you’re attached. It’s tough to detach yourself from something you truly care about. I realize there are so many things I wish someone had told me before I got to college and started playing, and I hope some of what I learned helps you too! Disclaimer: I was by no means nor am I the greatest player ever, also most of these things you’ll learn with time but why not get a head start. Let’s get to ittttt.

1. Have Your Skills Together

    Stick skills are a HUGE part of lacrosse. If you’re looking to get playing time and stand out, make sure you can catch with both hands and catch very well on the run and under pressure. Even if you think your stick skills are perfect, keep that stick in your hand because especially at the higher level, you gotta be ready to go. If you’re looking to play a specific position, know the ins and outs of that position well enough to be able to execute if you are put on the field, but also be open to playing somewhere new. You don’t need to know everything about it, but be able to play what you say you can play, and don’t be afraid to ask questions. Just be ready to play and be ready to learn. Everyone will drop passes here and there, but if you have your catching/throwing/field sense together it will take a load off of your back and make your transition much smoother.

2. Be Prepared to Build Relationships

   In High School, you were most likely on a team with all your friends and you all joined together/played together. College is different, you’re coming together with really talented people from all over. Be ready to respect everyone, learn from others, and be open to making new friends. It sounds cliche, but it kind of sucks when you don’t really get along with anyone and you’re on a bus for 8 hours by yourself. You don’t have to force the relationships, but just be open to being a good teammate and remember that you’re all there to work together, win, and have fun.

   This applies to your coaches too. You may constantly feel like you need to impress your coaches and make sure they like you, but don’t let that be your main focus. Just be yourself and PLAY, but also be a good listener and be ontop of your game. Coaches notice everything, and if they don’t the captains do and they pass along what they see. It can be really hard if you feel like your coaches don’t like you or favor others, and thats something you just have to navigate as you go along. Focus on your game and being your best. Also make friends outside of lacrosse! It’ll be a breath of fresh air you need sometimes when team things are a little stressful. You’ll make amazing friends both on and off the field, but make an effort to have both.

3. Get Your Emotions In Check

   I am a very emotional person. I say i’m not, but I am. I cried when I watched Hannah Montana: The Movie (but who didn’t, tbh). Before you start playing, get your emotions in check and be ready to rely on yourself to continuously keep it together. Playing a college sport tests everything you believe in. You will doubt yourself so many times and ask yourself why you’re there, what you’re doing, why this isn’t working, etc. DO NOT talk yourself out of something you’ve worked so hard for. Be prepared to tell yourself to snap out of it and WORK. My downfall is that I was constantly in my head and it clouded how I played, I overthought everything, and that 1 second of overthinking could lead to a missed opportunity. Practice or find a way to brush things off when they happen, and after playing take time to yourself to work through your emotions and take care of yourself! Getting sad about dropping passes or missing shots only makes more bad things happen, but if you can brush that off and keep going that’ll give you a big leg up. Do not put more pressure on yourself than necessary/than already there....you will freeze up and start to feel like a headcase....not fun nor healthy.

4. Do Not Compare Yourself to Other Players

   Ohhhh boy, do I wish i’d known this way ahead of the game. It’s okay to be inspired and to draw tidbits of inspiration here and there, but don’t let yourself get bogged down in comparing yourself to other players. You yourself are there for a reason, figure out what makes you the special player that you are and use that to stand out! Time spent comparing yourself to others just hurts you in the process (im telling you, those college emotions hit you all at once and mess with your head).

5. Decide Who You Want to Be

   Eventually, there’ll come a time when you realize that you’re kind of in a box as a player. It happens. Coaches don’t necessarily do it on purpose, but sometimes you’ll be put in a box. I believe that you can either accept the box you’re in, if you feel like it’s a good/healthy place for you, or work to change your box/how your coaches perceive you. Some believe that being a role player is a positive thing, as every team has them, but that doesn’t always have to be you. Be willing to fight for what you want and who you want to be, but don’t hurt yourself in the process. 

   Outside of lacrosse, know that sometimes balance will be very hard to achieve. In college, you’ll be exposed to new things (parties, trips, new people), and you have to decide if you want to be an amazing lacrosse player (which will pull you away from your social life) or a socializer (which will pull you away from lacrosse). Some people can do both, but there’ll come a time when you have to decide where you’re going to put a majority of your effort into, and there’s nothing wrong with choosing what feels best for you (as long as its safe!).

6. You Are MORE Than the Sport You Play

   When I started playing lacrosse overall, I wanted NOTHING more than to be the greatest player alive. I would’ve done anything for it. I put my worth into my lacrosse skills, and I realized once I got to college that it may not have been healthy. I see that trend a lot sometimes, we delve so far into the things we love that we forget we have other qualities. Lacrosse is not what defines you, its part of you. You are more than your sport, the minutes you play, whether or not a coach favorites you, etc. Outside of lacrosse, just like in lacrosse, are tons of amazing things, and remember you started playing for fun.

7. Be Willing to Work

   I mentioned this above, but playing in college will force you to be healthier, fitter, and more of a hard-worker. At every level, you’ll be expected to be on top of your grind. When you’re at practice, you’re there to focus and put in work to succeed for you and your teammates. Be prepared to grind everyday and bring your A game. Nothing will come easy, even if you’re the top player there’ll always be some challenge presented by your coaches (to make you better). Take advantage of the competitive atmosphere and do your thing.

8. STUDENT Athlete; Student Is First For A Reason

   Remember why you’re there.....schooool. Don’t let your academics suffer for the sake of sports. I know sometimes you’ll feel pressure to just let things slide, but for the sake of your future stay focused on school. I’m absolutely guilty of not being 50/50 for school and sports, and its normal! A lil 60/40, 68/32 here and there doesn’t hurt too bad, but stay on top of your work cause just like in high school, you could be ineligible to play if your grades are looking rough.

    9. If It Isn’t For You, That’s Okay 

   Playing a sport in college isn’t for everyone. It could be the practice times, being away from friends, team dynamic, traveling, etc. So many things factor into it, and sometimes the school just isn’t the right one for you and thats okay! There’s nothing wrong with deciding to change your path. You are still an awesome athletic talented badass person and if you’re doing whats best for you, then its all good.

10. Have FUN

   There’s gonna be times when it feels like lacrosse is your life and the only thing you have going on, and sometimes that can be a heavy weight. But always always always have fun. Think of it this way: you’re going on a dive in a really really cool ocean and there’s tons of cool fish and buried treasure etc, but eventually you’ll have to come up from the dive and get back to land. You don’t want to spend the whole dive worrying about whats on land, if the other divers are seeing cooler fish than you, if you brought enough sunscreen, or whatever else will take away from the beauty of the dive. You’ll be able to do another cool dive someday, but make the most of the dive you’re doing now. College lacrosse is that current dive, and alumni games/leagues etc are your future dive. I wish i’d realized that there was more to lacrosse and sports in general than playing time, but it kind of isn’t my nature (turns out my #1 trait is that I am a Competitor, go figure. Yes, cat is out of the bag, I quit because, though i’m slightly ashamed, my mental health was suffering because I was so hyperfocused on being this perfect player and I just stopped enjoying what I was doing). So young college laxers, there’s sooo much more to your experience than how much you play. Please take advantage of all thats offered to you.

All in all, you are going to be great no matter what you do. Go into college with a clear mindset and do your thing! Whether there’s tons of pressure on you or not, remember you are a special player and you have soooo many things going for you in and out of lacrosse. I look forward to hearing about you all’s lax journeys and know you always have a fan in me!

[unrequitedmime]

I smash through the door first, Diana right behind me. Together we split up and search the house. I search downstairs, she searches upstairs. I hear voices upstairs, and follow them.   Diana is standing in the doorway to Hannah's room, her back to me. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail today, and a few strands hang by her cheeks. I fight the urge to tuck them behind her ears as i brush by her. As i slip past, i make the mistake of inhaling. My lungs choke. Daisies. She has always smelt like Daisies. Hannah sits at the foot of her bed with her head in her hands. Broc stands at the wall, arms crossed, gaze low. His whole entire body is pulled taut, and the tension in the room nearly knocks me off my feet. For a moment i ignore the apparent urgency of the situation, and allow myself to appreciate Broc's presence. I've missed him. Diana lets out a sigh and pushes past me. She races to Broc and suffocates him in a hug. He blinks himself out of his thoughts and a broken smile spreads on his face as he squeezes her back for one moment. Diana takes a small step back and looks up to him. Diana is tall, but Broc is taller. He's taller than me, and his body is rippled with muscles after years of training and serving as an agent for the Centre. With his deep black hair that's greying the edges and his serious green eyes, he could pass as Diana's father. He practically is her father. "What are you doing here?" she whispers, "Is something wrong?" He stares at her for a few moments in silence. She sees something in his eyes, and takes a shaky step back. "Broc?" Hannah stands up suddenly, and i blanch back in surprise. Her face is streaked with tears, and her mascara runs down her face. Her body shakes with sobs as she strides past me and down the stairs. Broc stares after her, helplessness and desperation shining in his eyes. And something else. Love. I gulp. I knew it. I turn around to follow Hannah, to help her, but Broc's voice stops me dead in my tracks. "There's been an attack on the Centre." My heart stops. Diana takes a sharp breath. I turn around, "How many casualties?" Broc stares hard at me, "42." Diana makes a strangled sound and sits down on the bed. She stares at the ground for a moment before jumping up. "Macie?" she gasps, "Is she okay?" Broc swallos and nods, "She was shot, but she will recover." Diana's face crumbles, and i want to take her into my arms. She's lost too much. She can't lose her 15 year old sister, too. It would destroy her. I take an instinctive step towards her, and her face turns my way, shining with stress.  "Wyatt," Broc's voice is hard, and i frown before turning to face him, "Many people were injured in the conflict, and many died," he pauses, "George didn't make it." oh. George. Without warning, my limbs begin to tremble, and my insides feel like they're being squeezed. A sick feeling washes over my stomach, an ocean, crashing and thrashing. I don't know how, but somehow i feel the grief slowly engulf my heart. I feel it wrap its cloak of despair around my miserable body, and it settles itself into the smallest cracks, making them bigger. Weakening me.  I hear Diana saying my name, feel her fingertips brushing against my arms. But it doesn't matter. George is dead. My best friend is dead. Dead.  I had met George when i was 15. The year i fell in love with Diana. He was new to the centre, and we had connected immediately. I usually spent my time with Diana, so i wasn't that close to him at first. But one day in training, he had beat me in the ring. Brutally. I was so ashamed. He was a lean, pale, boy with a head of dark curls and deep, innocent eyes. It was clear he was not a fighting agent, his future was with the technological side of missions. He knew i was embarrassed that i had lost the match, and instead of gloating, he had wrapped up my bloodied knuckles and told the instructor that i had won. He had intrigued me. That night i had gone to his room and thanked him. Somehow, i ended up staying for hours. We talked until the early hours of the morning. There was something about him that put me at ease. That made me feel comfortable. We were able to tease each other fluently. We didn't need words, because we always understood. That first night, he had talked about his life, and i talked about mine. I had found out that he was an orphan, as most of us were. He had three older sisters, but they weren't agents. They had chosen to live their life as normal civilians. Because of the rule within the organisation that states that agents are not to interact with any civilians unless on missions, George hadn't seen his sisters in 2 years. He missed them, but his parents had died to make sure he was able to fulfil his destiny as an agent, and he honoured their deaths by staying in the Centre. I told him about Diana, and Broc, and about my sister, who had also chosen to remain a civilian. I hadn't seen her in 5 years. I had stopped missing her when i was 12.  From that night on, George was my best friend. Him and Diana never connected, so usually they maintained polite small talk when they were together. One day he had admitted that he wanted to be a real agent; a fighter, and for two years, we organised weekly sessions so that i could personally train him.  He eventually became one of the best fighters in the centre.  Everyone loved George. He was funny, charismatic, but he also had a brilliant mind, and an astonishing ability to remain calm and work well under pressure. He was kind, selfless. Loyal.  And now he's dead.  "Wyatt," Diana's voice shocks me out of my memories.  I blink and realise her face is right in front of mine, her big eyes staring into mine in worry.  "Are you okay?" she whispers.  I stare at her for a moment.  "Ecstatic," i whisper back.  She flinches.  Everything is crumbling.  I look to Broc, who's eyes are also shining with worry. And pain.  "What happened? How did you not see it coming?"   He runs a hand through his deep waves and shakes his head. When he speaks, he sounds tired, older, "There had been whispers of a resistance. Of a growing team of rebels. Apparently they believed that the centre shouldn't exist. That it is corrupt. At first no one worried, they were just whispers after all. But eventually they started taking action, making themselves known. They were intruding on missions, forcing agents to take their side, spitting lies about the centre into their faces. Creating doubt. Rumours of attacks rippled through the centre," he looks down for a moment, and his shine with regret, "I should have realised they were more than rumours. I could have saved a lot of lives."  Diana takes a deep breath, "And they attacked the centre?"  Broc looks up, "From within. Agents that had been serving their whole lives suddenly turned on their colleagues, their friends. It was a war zone."  "Why are you here?" i croak.  "The law. When there is an attack, all members are to hide. We are to take refuge in hidden towns and stay low. No one is to contact one another. We stay out of sight, and we stay safe. I knew you two were here, so i came here immediately to hide myself."  Diana and Broc continue talking in low voices, discussing the attack and what to do next. I don't listen. I can't listen.  My mind tries to focus, to form coherent thoughts that can help comfort Broc and his traumatised mind, but all that comes is George's face.  He's dead. He's truly gone.  I stumble away from Broc and Diana, away from the two most important people in the world to me.  There used to be three.  Everything is crashing within me.  I rush down the stairs, and stop when i reach the bottom, panting. My body is equipped to fight demons and never tire, yet by the time i reach the bottom of the stairs, i'm exhausted. I slowly make my way to the front door, needing to escape. I stop when i hear sobs behind me.  I find Hannah at the kitchen table, head in hands. The sunlight shines through the floor to ceiling windows leading to the back deck, and i can see a large oak tree out the back. There's a swing under it, and behind the tree are endless woods. The trees call to me, beckon me to dive in to the mystery of their forest.  I know its my grief calling, not the spirits of the trees. It's that deep pit within me, that crashing ocean. I might fall in. I might fall forever, i might drown. I want to jump.   I sit down across from Hannah, and she looks up at me in surprise. She opens her mouth to say something, probably to tell me to leave her in peace, but she sees something in my eyes and she closes her mouth.  We stare at the table in silence, our hearts heavy.  I can feel mine weighing me down, pushing me down.  I notice Hannah has a photograph in her hand. I stare at it. She notices me staring.  "I had a son."  Her voice shakes. It's whispers strain with pain and the delicacy of heartbreak.  "When i was young, i married an amazing man," she says quietly, "He was an agent too, of course, and one of the best," she takes a shaking breath, "We had a son, and we were happy. A perfect family," she smiles for a moment, and the sadness in her smile takes my breath away, "And then my husband went on a mission," the smile falls away, "A hard one. A dangerous one. And he came back a changed man. He became obsessive. Dedicated to his work. He loved it. Eventually, he loved his work more than he loved his family. He stopped coming home at night, and threw himself into dangerous missions. He was careless, and suddenly cold. We split, and it was decided that he wouldn't be included in our son's life. That he was to be forgotten. My son was still young. He never remembered his father, but he was loyal to the agency, and when it was time, he was sent to the Centre."  She smiles. "He was a great agent. Absolutely wonderful. But he was also an amazing son. Loving and respectful and dedicated. I love him with all of my being."  She goes silent for a while, "He was in the attack."  She doesn't need to tell me the rest. I know.  She begins to cry again, her body shaking with depression and despair. With grief.  I stare at the table for a while, wishing i could take away her pain and make it my own. My heart is choking in grief, but i would suffocate it to save Hannah from her pain.  "Who is the father?" i finally ask.  She takes a shuddering breath, "Pardon?"  I swallow. My throat feels like sandpaper.  "Your son's father. Your husband. Who is he?"  Hannah stares at me for a long moment, and opens her mouth to respond, but Broc's voice interrupts.  "There you are," he slowly enters the room, Diana behind him. Diana stares at me in sadness, i stare back blankly. Broc's shoulder's are slumped, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He's suffering. The attack must've really been hard on him. The attack, that's right. George is dead. The ocean crashes. I ignore him, and turn to face Hannah. She's staring at Broc and Diana, analysing them. Her eyes shout the word "LEAVE." Diana hears them. She pulls Broc out of the room despite his stern words, and leads them out the front door. Hannah and I sit in silence. "My best friend died," i say to the table. It stares back at me, silent. Unsympathetic.  "I'm sorry for your loss," Hannah whispers. "I'm sorry for yours."   She reaches her hand across the table, and rests it on top of mine.  "What did we do to deserve this?" she says quietly, "What did we do wrong?"  I close my eyes, and listen to the cracks of my heart.  "Nothing," i whisper back, "Absolutely nothing."

unrequited