#sophia traumatizes children one day at a time

[where-is-the-angst]

i just traumatized my little sister 💪💪💪💪

[foreverinthepagesofhistory]

Hi! Do you know why Vicky didn't have a good relationship with Charlotte? I know she didn't with Wilhelm mainly because of his disability however what was the issue with Charlotte?

Hello! So I think you need to keep these things in mind before you start analyzing the two’s relationship. For one thing, back in the day, good kind relationships between royal parents and their children were quite rare. Most royal women put their children in the care of nannies and often didn’t see them as their own flesh and blood. But don’t get me wrong, some royals had AMAZING relationships with their children, but this was not always the case.

Victoria Princess Royal married Crown Prince Fredrick of Prussia when she was only 17 years old (that was quite young, even for her time!) and she was still very much a young girl. Also she didn’t have the best relationship with her mother because Queen Victoria was more in love with her husband Albert than her children and she wasn’t the best figure to look up to as a mother. She had her first child, Kaiser Wilhelm II when she was only 19 years old and she had Charlotte when she was 20. She was quite inexperienced as a mother and the only motherly figure that she could look up to was her own mother. She didn’t have any other person to influence her motherly abilities. Also just a year after she had Charlotte, her father died unexpectedly which left a big whole in her heart. Vicky idolized her father and was deeply crushed by his death. Queen Victoria also was deeply shattered by this loss and became even colder to her children (she wasn’t cruel, but she was very distant and often ignored their troubles and said that they would never compare to her loss of her “beloved Albert”).

As you mentioned above, Kaiser Wilhelm did have a disability and yes that affected his relationship with his mother. Vicky had a difficult birth with Wilhelm because he was a breech baby (he was born feet first instead of head). The birth required forceps to get the baby out and they had to break Wilhelm’s left shoulder too. He came out not breathing but the doctors gave him a good slap and then he started to cry indicating that he was alive. The doctors didn’t understand that breaking the child’s shoulder and not fixing it immediately would cause a defective left arm for the rest of Wilhelm’s life. Back then, having a “crippled” heir to the throne was out of the question. Vicky and Fritz (Fredrick’s nickname) approved countless dangerous and abusive “medical treatments” that would supposedly help with his disability. The “treatments” often involved electro-therapy or wrapping dead animals to the paralyzed arm. This never fixed Wilhelm’s disability and only left him deeply traumatized. He blamed his mother for this for the rest of his life and never forgives her for not standing up for him. In the next four years, Vicky had two more children, Henry and Sigismund. She was starting to gain some more motherly abilities and she was very happy with her family. In 1866, Vicky’s youngest son Sigismund was sick with meningitis. All of the available doctors were sent to the front because of the Austro-Prussian war. Nobody was able to treat little Siggi and poor Vicky had to just sit and watch him suffer and eventually die at the age of almost 2 years old. This was a devastating blow for Vicky as Siggi was (and I hate to say it) her favorite child. After this devastating blow, Vicky finally understood what it meant to be a truly devoted mother. The tables really changed and after that, she was A LOT more devoted to her youngest children Victoria, Waldemar, Sophia, and Margaret.

But Vicky! You need to remember that you had three other children who have been lacking in a mothers love and devotion! But sadly, she did forget. The way I interpret this is that I think Vicky felt ashamed that she didn’t love her eldest children enough so she just felt like it could never be fixed. I think she really did love them, but she felt like it would never be the same as the younger children’s love. This resulted in three children whose childhood wasn’t the happiest. Henry didn’t seem to mind (and if he did then he probably would’ve covered it up because he seemed to respect and love both of his parents despite the lack of devotion), but for Charlotte and Wilhelm, it was a completely different story. They both had very different personalities from their other siblings. They were very emotional and they needed a motherly figure in their life which they lacked in very much.

Looking into Charlotte specifically, she always felt like, in her childhood, she never got what she needed. It left her very emotionally distressed and lonely. She always felt this way, even when she was an adult. She married, even had a child (Feodora) and still felt like nothing was enough for her. Because she lacked in any motherly experiences, she treated her only daughter, Feodora, terribly. Instead of caring for her daughter and loving her like any other would, she just went out partying instead. She was severely depressed and some people suspected that she had the genetic condition Porphyria (which her Great-Great Grandfather King George III had, which led him to go mad and eventually die.).

In conclusion, Charlotte did not have the best relationship with her mother, and it scarred her for life.

Thank you for asking!!!

[indramond]

It didn't start with me...

**Trigger Warning: Child abuse & maltreatment/Custody loss**

Today is the last day of PTSD Awareness month. Previously, I said I would share my CPTSD story. Well here it is:

I was diagnosed with CPTSD during the pandemic. This was a result of years of physical, emotional, and verbal abuse I experienced at the hands of my mother. My name sake...Eva Sophia Laveau. My mother is still among us and our relationship has improved but is still distant at times. There are rare occasions where the so-called mother who raised me rears her ugly head. There is one incident that constantly plays in my mind from when I was a child.

I was beaten by my mother for a miniscule offense. My crime...getting an attitude with my parents about having to go to the mall with them. I wanted to stay home and eat the Campbell's Chicken & Stars soap I had made at home. Soup will play another part in a traumatic incident with my father. But I digress. My punishment for my misbehavior...my mother pulling my hair and shaking me around the car so violently I spilled my soda from Burger King all over the car and my father. Once inside, she proceed to verbally assault me, punch me in the stomach, and whip me with a belt. She beat me to the floor and proceeded to jump up and down while whipping my back with the belt. I screamed out "mommy!" while covering my head and cowering in the fetal position in fear. This beating lasted what felt like an eternity. To add insult to injury, my father heard the whole thing and proceeded to mock me for days after the assault. He would say "mommy" in a fake weeping voice. I hated both of them for the longest of time. After the beating, my mother went on about her business as if nothing had happened.

I say that the trauma and CPTSD didn't start with me. My mother was abused by her mother, who was also raised by another toxic mother. Unfortunately I became abusive towards my own children and lost custody of them. My oldest who is 16 doesn't wanted to be hugged or kissed. She does not like touch in general because I spanked her so much as a little one. I can't fault her for feeling this way. I can't fault her for hating me. I didn't break the generational curse that was passed on to me by mother and grandmothers before me.

CPTSD has taught me a lot of things about myself. It taught me that the abuse I suffered was not justified. It doesn't define who I am. Unfortunately my mother modeled toxic behavior that I hoped I would not mimic. Sadly, I was wrong. So wrong. I hope someday to be able to build a healthy relationship with my children. I may not forgive my mother for what she...and at times my father...did. But I can work on forgiving myself and being a better person and mother.

[nabataprophet]

After the winter’s tragedy, the arrival of baby wyverns in the stables is welcomed not just with the usual excitement, but with outright tears of joy. With the traumatic memories still fresh in everyone’s mind, everyone is being extra careful with the babies, and intends to ensure they have the best care possible. Will you volunteer your knowledge and services? Or perhaps do you wish to learn from the best? [Grants Flying +1]

Sophia finds herself spending more time than she would have expected in the stables. It isn't as quiet as the library, indeed, it is overwhelmingly full of sounds and smells. Still, seeing all of the animals housed in the stables never ceases to be a source of amazement for her. Horses, pegasi, kinshi, wolves, and even wyverns were all rare sights back home.

Truth be told, Sophia still holds some reservations about interacting with wyverns after having been held hostage by Bern, but the baby wyverns inspire much less nervousness in her. One day they will be large enough to soar above the clouds with a grown man on their backs, but for now, they are just children exploring the world for the first time. Their fanged jaws snap not out of malice, but out of curiosity.

The hatchlings purr and chirp in equal measure. Some of the more adventurous babies climb the support beams, digging their tiny claws into the wooden beams. Freshly hatched, their wings are not strong enough yet to sustain flight, but that does not stop the bravest of the litter from trying to launch themselves into the air. There is no true danger; a copious layer of hay lines the floor of the stable.

One particularly tenacious baby wyvern manages a semblance of flight for the tiniest fraction of a second, although gravity takes over sooner rather later and it comes crashing to the ground. Or, it would have fallen to the ground had it not landed on the head of one of the volunteers.

Even without her distinctive appearance, Sophia recognizes the hooded figure by the pulsing in her blood.

"...Idunn?"

@idoun

fly broken wings

[scuttle-buttle]

What's One More?

WC: 3204

Rated: M

Tags: brief mentions of crime/mental illness/child abuse and neglect/substance addiction/theft, fluff, family dynamics, mentions of aging, mentions of difficult pregnancy, softness, anxiety attack

🧠

The harsh vibrating of a phone on the nightstand breaks your slumber. Still half asleep you toss your arm back to thump against your sleeping husband's side. With a groan he answers. You try to settle back into your pillow and the warmth of the blanket. Whoever has the balls to call at this hour has another thing coming - but later because your priority is going back to sleep.

He can't have been on the call more than fifteen seconds before he sits up in bed suddenly, turning on the bedside lamp; his movements grab your attention. You roll over. The light blinds you and you rub at your eyes to adjust. You can't make out what's being said. Looking at the clock to see that it's barely 4 am you know something bad has happened. Quietly you slip out from the covers.

Making your way down the hall you peek into your daughter's room, grateful that she's still fast asleep. Her soft snores punctuate the calm. Your nerves abate knowing she’s safe. By the time you get back to the bedroom Laszlo is up and getting dressed. "What's going on?"

He doesn't answer at first. You wait until he's finished buttoning his shirt to ask again. "Sara was called to consult on a triple homicide case - she's asked for me to come down to the police station. I don't know much yet, but it's something involving a young boy and she wants me to speak with him."

“Did he…?”

“No. He was not directly involved, that much we know.”

You nod, leaning against the door frame. This wasn't the first time that Laszlo had been called in by law enforcement and social services to assist with children and teens that needed psychological help. He had become more active around the time you graduated with your doctorate. After Sophia was born Laszlo helped fund an after school program for kids that focused on support for mental health and behavioral issues. He was so passionate about being able to help these kids. But it was never at this ungodly hour. "You'll call or something when you know what's up?" you ask through a yawn.

"Of course, Bärchen." He gives you a chaste peck. Gently he guides you back towards your bed and sits you down. "Go back to sleep, there's no need to worry. I love you." With that he left.

Your sleep is fitful with him gone. You worry over things that you aren't even aware of, over who is hurt, over how severe a situation it could be to have been called in the middle of the night, over the poor boy that needs Laszlo’s help. When your daughter tiptoes into the room around 6 you welcome her into the bed with open arms.

"Why are you up, baby bug?"

"Where's Papa?" She climbs up on his side of the bed and rubs his cold pillow. On her face is a deep frown.

"He had to go help some very important people early this morning. He'll be back to see you soon, I promise."

"I miss him. He always helps me with my shoes."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face. "I know, baby. But it's still early so let's take a nap before we have to get ready, hmm?" The two of you snuggle under the covers. With her curled into your side you do find rest, even for the short time before your alarm chimes.

The day moves sluggish as you wait for word from your husband. Little work was to be done today at the museum, so there wasn't much to keep your mind off the wondering. You considered calling. You considered texting. But you knew that when the time was right he would let you know. No news is good news, you think.

Finally the day came to a close. You picked up Sophia and stopped by the store on the way home to grab supplies for dinner. She insisted that she carry one of the bags inside - little miss independent that she was. “Careful not to drop it, okay? Use those muscles of yours to hold the bag tight.”

“Mama I know, I help Papa carry all the time,” she explains matter-of-factly.

The townhouse is quiet as you begin to unpack. You do a quick glance into the dining room and parlor to no avail. "Laz, honey? You home?" A few seconds later you hear movement from the stairs.

Your husband rounds the corner into the kitchen, swooping down to scoop your daughter into his left arm, peppering her face in exaggerated smooches. Her giggles light up the room from the dim atmosphere. He perches her on his hip. “How was your day my little dove?”

“So good Papa - I practiced my counting today at school. I can get the biggest in the class! Mommy said I must be the most smartest," she prattles on.

“Wunderbar!” he praises her before turning to you. “I didn't hear you come in." Laszlo kisses you.

Pinning him with a look you say "you also didn't call me today? You said you would and I've been worried all day."

Sophia crosses her arms and harrumphs from her father's hip; "me too Papa." He quirks an eyebrow at her before speaking.

"Yes… there is something I wished to speak with you on but didn't think it was suitable for the phone." You raise your own brows but continue to put away groceries. "I do not wish to discuss certain aspects of the case in present company-" he nods towards Sophia minutely "-but we do have a houseguest for the foreseeable future."

"Oh?" Your brows dip in confusion. This is not what you were expecting.

Laszlo peeks around the doorway and calls out "Stevie, would you come join us in the kitchen please."

Stevie? You don't know a Stevie...

A moment later a lanky boy with scruffy dark blond hair shuffles into the room. He can't be anymore than 15. His clothes are too big on him and his shoes are worn beyond belief; nevertheless he gives you a slight smile. “This is Stevie Taggert, he’s going to be staying here with us in the guest room for now.”

“Good evening Mrs. Kreizler,” the boy says nervously, his voice cracking.

You spare a look at your husband before turning to the teenager with a smile. “Ah, no need for that, kid. You can just call me by my name instead. And welcome to our home. You like spaghetti?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Awesome! And I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am,” you give him a wink. You set up a pot to boil the water for the pasta. Laszlo excused himself to spend some time with Sophia, leaving you and Stevie in the kitchen.

He clears his throat behind you. “Would um… is there anything I can do to help?”

"I would love that, thank you."

The two of you get to work on making dinner. Stevie doesn’t say too much, but he is very polite and does his best to be useful. Once the food is nearly finished your family has returned ready to eat. You send Stevie and Sophia to set the table.

“Should I be worried?” you ask Laszlo quietly, watching the doorway the two left through.

“I don’t think so. I just felt that I would rather he have a familiar face to adjust with instead of being placed in a group home like many end up.”

You study his face. “You’ve taken a liking to him haven’t you?”

“Well…" his face reddens at your question. "He reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age.” The conversation is cut short by the kids returning.

The rest of dinner and the evening goes smoothly. You make it a point to not bring up any questions that could trigger the teenager, especially before you’ve spoken with Laszlo about the situation at hand. When Stevie nearly eats his weight in pasta you say nothing, wondering how long it's been since he's had a good home cooked meal. He insists on helping clean up the dishes afterwards. Without even knowing what the boy has gone through your heart aches for him.

You set him up in the small renovated basement downstairs while Laszlo puts Sophia to bed. Handing him one of your husband’s old Harvard t-shirts to sleep in you tell him “I’m sorry you’ll be down here by yourself, but if you need us for anything don’t be afraid to come get us - no matter what time it is, okay? And if you get cold there’s an extra blanket right here for you. I know it's July but….” you shrug. “Tomorrow after I get home from work we can go to the store and get you some stuff to use, some more clothes, that kinda thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” At the teasing look you give him his ears burn red with his mumbled “right sorry.”

“Alright Stevie. We’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Laszlo is in bed reading when you enter the room. Nothing is said as you ready yourself for bed. Slipping under the covers you face him. He sighs and closes his book.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I became caught up in the day and only arrived home with Stevie maybe half an hour before you did.” He sighs a second time. “Most of the case I cannot talk about, but what I can say is he was living with his mentally ill father, whom was also an addict. He missed the last few weeks of the school year and has been regularly stealing food to get by. He has no other family. I just… it didn’t feel right to let him process his experiences away from someone properly trained to deal with these sorts of things, in addition to how traumatic entering foster care at his age can be. I spoke with those in social services and was granted temporary custody until we find another more permanent solution.”

“Of course.”

He takes hold of your hand. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“I mean it would’ve been nice to have a bit more warning… but I get it. He can stay as long as he needs to. He’s a sweet kid,” you reassure him. “I told him that I would take him shopping after work tomorrow, so if you could pick up Soph from preschool that would be great.”

“Perhaps instead we can all go? I was thinking that I would bring him to the university with me so that he’s not alone all day. You could get her and then we could meet somewhere, get dinner afterwards?”

You lean closer to him to curl around his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. He always thought so much about others, especially children. Laszlo had such a heart of gold and it honestly left you in awe of just how much he was willing to give so that others could find peace and happiness. Like the older he got the more he had to give. The thought warms you. “How are you literally the best person I know? And to think you used to be so worried about being able to be a good father and now you’re the best of all of us.” He huffs a little as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I have you to thank for that, Bärchen.” He drops a kiss to your head. “But it’s getting late and I’ve been up all day. We should get some sleep.”

Soon after you're both dreaming.

___

Stevie had been with you for three weeks. It only took him a few days to start to settle in, and you discovered that he was quick with his wit and far smarter than he let on. He was a little bit of a sarcastic smart-ass at times, but all in good nature. He was endlessly entertaining. Laszlo sat down with him almost everyday to talk about what he was feeling, the things he experienced, and ways to deal with the loss of his family. Already you both saw improvement.

Even Sophia got on well with him. Most teenage boys wanted nothing to do with little kids, let alone a 4 year old that loved playing 'spaceship barbie'. But not Stevie. On his fifth day you'd found him sat on the floor playing with her and going along with her childlike imagination. When she insisted he play the barbie that needed saving he went along with it, high pitched voice and everything. He even encouraged her to pick up her toys before bed - a feat you and your husband struggled with at times. It struck you how much Stevie became a big brother of sorts to her.

Laszlo grew even more fond of the boy. He wasn't really one for TV, but every evening he sat and watched some show on Netflix about racing with the teen and didn't complain once. Laszlo had tried to explain the role of adrenaline in racing drivers as a psychological function, but Stevie just brushed it off and said it was the driving so fast that made it "cool".

The two did bond over an unlikely subject - punk rock. When you got home from work two weeks into his stay and heard the music blasting in the parlor you worried someone had broken in. Whipping into the room you saw Laszlo in his chair tapping his foot to the intense guitar and singing; Stevie nodded along to the music as he held an old album cover. It didn't take long for Sophia to start jumping along to the music too.

"What is this?" You yelled out over the bass - you couldn't recognize it and it clearly wasn't English.

"Die Toten Hosen, a band I listened to growing up in Germany. Stevie found the record and asked to listen."

"Listen? I think you mean blow out your eardrums!" Even with needing to shout to be heard you had to laugh at the situation. How your husband had a secret love for German punk you'll never know; yet you would never let him live it down.

And when Stevie came and woke you both up in tears three nights ago you made him hot chocolate while Laszlo sat down with him. He confessed that he had never been treated or cared for like he was in your home. How he wished he could stay because he felt wanted. Your heart broke for the boy. To be so young and so lost, craving someone to simply be there for him.

Yet everyday he grew more open. He broke out of his shell. He had goals and ambitions; he wanted to amount to something bigger than he had thought he ever could. It almost shocked you at how much fire was within him.

At how much he fit in with your little family.

At how it was like he was meant to be there.

___

Laszlo was oddly quiet when you got home. Sophia had run off to find Stevie, and you tracked your husband down to his office. He listened as you talked about your day for a good ten minutes; he said almost nothing the whole conversation.

You move closer to him. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead you check to see if he's feverish or sick. He didn't feel warm. "Laz, are you feeling okay?"

He gently pulls your hand down and leaves a kiss on your palm. "The department of social services called this morning to inquire about what we want to do with Stevie. This would be the third time they have asked."

He hadn't mentioned it to you at all that they were calling already. "Okay. What do you think we should do?" You pause for him to continue.

"I told them I would need to speak with you before any further decisions were made regarding him…" His fingers tap against the wood of his desk. "I'm not sure I have an answer for them. Nor for you." He swallows. "I'm afraid of what might become of him should he go into the system. Or that he will not get the support he needs given his past. Any option involving allowing him to stay for a bit longer is a commitment I won't make without your full support, of course. I could never ask that of you." As he speaks you can hear the frustration pouring from him, feel the irritation radiating through the room. "I refuse to give up on him- I- I just don't have the answers on what to do without them hounding me and he deserves better than this, dammit."

"He does… Do you remember on your 50th birthday, what you told me?" Laszlo looks up at you confused. "You said that you had wished you were ten years younger so you had the energy and time to do all of it again. That if you were younger we would've had a whole gaggle of kids - brothers and sisters for Sophia."

"Wishing I was younger doesn't make a difference in helping Stevie-"

"Laszlo - let's adopt him." Your words stop him in his tracks. You had decided not to have any more after your daughter was born. Laszlo was nearing 50 and the pregnancy had been hard on you. But regardless you knew that you both had the means and the love to give another child, probably five or ten more children if you really wanted to. So why not start with one that's already wormed his way in to the family? "I've seen how fond you are of him already. You've taken him under your wing as if he was your own. And how good he is with Sophia? Hell I couldn't ask for a better older sibling for her - and she loves him already. And honestly, Laz, I do too."

"You think we should adopt Stevie?"

"I think we should ask, yeah. He deserves a good home and a strong father figure that's going to put him first. He looks at you like you hung the stars, Laszlo. He needs us, and truthfully I think we need him. So yeah - what's one more added to this little shindig we've got going for us?"

"Have you-"

"-thought it through? Yes. Completely."

You can see the smile he fights to hold back. "We should call tomorrow and see what the protocol is for stating our intent to adopt and getting the paperwork."

"Um…" You shuffle your feet. Nose scrunched, you confess "I may have already called them. On the way from work I asked about what would need to be done if we wanted to pursue that route, but since they already know who we are from you working with them for years it can be fast tracked." You pull him out of his chair to stand before you. "All we have to do is say 'go'."

He has no hesitation.

"Go."

Laszlo doesn't hold back his smile or his laughter as he spins you around his office floor. You're certain your children downstairs can hear your giggles.

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[winterscaptain]

permanent.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: just in case you missed it, i published a family tree for the hotchners! at this point, jack is married to bella and living in d.c. she’s a journalist for the washington division at the new york times and is generally pretty awesome. as always, lemme know what you think!

words: 3.1k warnings: language, hospital setting, canon-typical injury

summary: “write your injuries in dust, your benefits in marble” - benjamin franklin. au!december 2035

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Come on, Soph! Go, baby, go!”

Your daughter is a vision. She streaks across the field, her green and yellow uniform almost melding with the grass as she keeps control of the ball. You can’t see her face too clearly, but you know she’s scanning the field with the same intensity you see in Aaron’s face beside you. 

Isaac plops down on the bench behind you, home from Los Angeles for winter break. “How’s she doing?” 

Aaron half-turns his head, keeping his eyes on the field. “Going for a hat trick - if she makes it, it’ll be her third this season.” 

“Excellent.” 

Caroline, down the field with her choir group, lounges happily between the legs of one of her friends, eating popcorn. When she sees you looking, she waves at you.

You wave back for a moment before your attention’s caught by a collective gasp and Aaron’s hand shoots to your forearm. You turn back to the field, but you missed it. 

Everyone’s moving and you don’t know why. 

With shocking agility for his age, Aaron all but leaps down the bleachers and onto the field. Your eyes search for Soph, but there are too many people on the field, all of a sudden. 

Caroline’s standing on the seat of the bleachers, her friends steadying her with their hands on her arms and ankles. 

There’s a hand, soft and scared on your shoulder. “Mom?”

You open your arms, and your nearly-grown son ducks under it, curling into you as you stand. “Do you want your earbuds?” 

You feel him nod and you pull them out of your bag. His trembling quiets a little after he fits them in his ears. 

There’s a clamber, and Caroline appears at your side. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching.” 

She exhales, shaky and worried. “Where’s Dad?” 

“On the field.”

But where? 

You find Aaron, his salt-and-pepper hair stark in the autumn light. He’s talking to the referee, his brows low. 

You hear sirens. 

+++

“Oh, hey! What’s up, Mom?” 

You almost hate to ruin his mood. 

“Jack, honey, can you get down to the house at any point tonight?” 

You try not to grip the handle above the car door too tightly as Aaron races through the suburban streets, following the ambulance. Soph was definitely lucid when they loaded her up, but definitely in a lot of pain. 

“Ye - Yeah...Why?” 

“Soph’s headed to the ER - something happened on the soccer pitch today and her knee…” You shake your head. “I dunno. Her knee looks really bad.” 

“Fuck. Okay.” You hear him shuffle around and click his mouse - checking his schedule. “I can get down there after my last meeting at four - I’m headed there in a few minutes, but won’t be able to swing any earlier. I’d cancel it, but it’s literally SecDef and the Joint Chiefs and -” 

“That’s fine - I just need someone at the house with the kids until one of us can get back. Elliot’s at baseball practice until six and I’m not sure if -” 

“I’ll be there. I’ll get El and then I’ll swing by for Isaac and Caro if they’re still with y’all down there.” 

You glance over at Aaron and nod. He heaves a sigh of relief and mouths Thank you. 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

“Yeah. See you soon. Love you.” 

“Love you, too.”

+++

When you’re finally allowed in to see Sophia, her eyes are red and puffy with tears. Her right leg is braced and elevated at the knee. 

Her doctor explains the situation - dislocated knee and splintered patella with a torn meniscus and ACL. “This kind of traumatic knee injury poses a couple of issues…” 

He explains that the rehabilitation and surgery needs for both the ACL and meniscus are exceedingly different, and “It’s entirely possible Miss Sophia will experience permanent joint damage. However, we won’t know that until we have an orthopaedic surgeon look at it tomorrow.” 

“What about sports? Can I still play?” Soph tries to sit up farther, but Aaron’s arm shoots out, locking her against the bed across her shoulders. 

The doctor looks hesitant, and it’s all she needs to burst into tears again. Aaron moves, sitting on the side of the bed and wrapping her up in his arms. He looks over her head at you and your lower lip disappears into your mouth as you meet his gaze. 

You shift your attention to your other children sitting patiently behind you.

Caroline’s practically bit her nails to the quick - her hands looking more and more like her Aunt Emily’s as the moments pass. 

Isaac’s been sitting in the wide windowsill for the entire afternoon, his headphones on, staring out the window, his mouth tight and fingers tearing into the foam stress ball you keep in your purse. 

We’ll need another one of those. Or five.

 You get a phone call, and you step out. “Hey, Jack.” 

“Hey. Just got Elliot. We’re headed over to the hospital now. How’s she doing?” 

You sigh and press a hand to your forehead. 

“Oh, shit. That bad?” He asks. 

You don’t comment on his tell pickup. It’s in his blood, at this point. “Yeah. She’s definitely out for the rest of the season, and we’re looking at some long-term stuff, too.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Hey! I’m still here and she’s gonna kick your ass if you keep swearing in front of me, dude.” Elliot shouts from the back and it almost makes you smile. 

“I’m actually inclined to agree with you, Jack. We’ve got a dislocated and splintered patella in addition to a torn meniscus and ACL. It’s going to be a long rehab.” 

You hear a deep sigh into the bluetooth system in Jack’s car. “Well, I’ll stay here for the duration.” 

“No, no honey it’s alright. Your dad is home full-time and you’ve got a huge project reaching critical stages. Your room is all ready for you, but you really don’t have to hang around if you can’t manage the drive every day. And Bella -”

“Bells is looped in. She’s fine. She’s more than happy to tag out if we need to. Her deadlines are really loose right now what with the whole ‘nothing going on in Arlington’ thing this week. She’s heartbroken for Soph and wants to help where she can.” 

“Alright.” 

“Hey,” He huffs, sounding a lot like his dad. “I’ll let you go. I’ll text when I’m outside.” 

“Okay. Thanks, bud.” 

“Of course,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Anytime.” 

+++

Sophia’s sleeping when Alice and Hank come to visit later in the evening. Aaron went home a couple hours after Jack, planning to tag out with you later so you could get some sleep in your own bed before work tomorrow. 

Alice immediately embraces you, all but falling into your lap as you hold her. She’s shaking.

“Is she okay?” 

You push her back, smoothing some wayward edges at her hairline. “She will be.” 

Alice’s dark eyes fill with tears, and you brush them off her cheeks as they fall. 

“She’ll need your help, though. It’s gonna be a long time before we figure out what’s permanent and what’s not.” 

Alice nods and retreats, sitting in the plastic chair by Soph’s side, folding her arms on the mattress and laying her head on them. “Hey, Sofa,” she whispers, though Soph can’t hear her. 

“I haven’t heard that one in a while,” you tell her. Sofa is a nickname Derek gave Sophia when she was little. No big meaning to it, but it stuck. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed there all night. 

Hank lingers by the door. In the shadow of the room, you could easily mistake him for Derek, but that concerned pull at the corners of his eyes screams Savannah. 

Eventually, he crosses the room and sits on the little lounger beside you. 

He takes your hand and you kiss his knuckles. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted to spend your winter break, huh?” 

A little laugh leaves him. “Maybe not, but little Miss Thing over here dragged me out the door before I could get two words in edgewise.” He gestures vaguely toward Alice and you actually smile. 

“Yeah. In my experience, Morgan women don’t fuck around.” 

“You got that right,” comes a voice from the doorway. It’s Savannah, fresh off her shift and still in her white coat and scrubs. She scours over Sophia’s charts and checks on her before sitting on your other side. 

“Do you want the bad news or the good-but-also-kind-of-bad news?” She asks, almost inaudible. You glance up at Soph but Savannah shakes her head. “She’s out - those pain meds will leave this entire visit a blur.” 

You sigh. “Fine. Hit me with the bad shit.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

Savannah rests her elbows on her knees. “I’ve seen a knee injury like this exactly once before. No matter what you do, they can’t and don’t always heal right. She could need a mobility device permanently, even after she’s healed, and I can tell you now she won’t play again.” 

That’s okay. She’s okay. 

Better soccer goes than her life. 

Soccer is her life. 

You only know that Alice can hear everything when her shoulders start to shake. She doesn’t make any noise as she cries. She’s like her dad that way. Hank stands and places a hand between her shoulder blades, but says nothing. 

“Is that the worst of it?” 

Savannah nods. “Yeah.” She takes a breath. “The kinda good news is that she’ll be totally fine no matter what obstacles she may run into. She’s tough. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Hotchner.”

She snorts. “Hell, I watched you bounce back from crazy life-threatening shit with a quip and a grin.” 

You raise your eyebrows and shrug. “I do what I can.” 

+++

Caroline curls into her father’s side, her double bed big enough to manage the both of them. It feels a lot like when she was little - she’d have nightmares or couldn’t fall asleep and Aaron would come and sit with her until her breath was even and slow.

“Dad?”

“Mhmm?”

“What’s Soph gonna do about college?” Caroline’s voice is small, nearly smothered in Aaron’s shirt. “She already has scouting offers and stuff.” 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not sure. We’ll all have to figure it out together, won’t we?”

+++

Aaron steps into the room, closing the sliding glass door behind him. Alice, just as you predicted, snoozes next to Sophia, her head pillowed on her arms. Sophia’s upper body almost arcs around her and she managed to snag one of Alice’s hands in her adjustment. 

Those two…

Maybe he won’t escape the inevitable after all. 

Morgan-Hotchner? Hotchner-Morgan? 

He really only ever prepared to lose his name with Caroline. Soph always seemed far too… herself to take on a new one. 

We’ll see.

You’re asleep in the pull-out chair, your brow drawn and arms crossed over your chest. He approaches you as quietly as he can, putting his go bag down and sitting beside you. 

Much to his chagrin, you startle awake. 

“Sorry,” he says in a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

You shake your head. “You didn’t.” Talking through your yawn, you add, “Just had a weird dream is all.” 

Aaron pulls you close and you relent, tucking into his side with a hand pressed to his chest. 

“Did Savannah come by?” He asks. 

You nod. 

“What did she say?” 

You sniff a little, more from the antiseptic smell than any emotional response - that will come later. “Soph won’t be able to play again unless fuckin’ divine intervention or some shit comes along and fixes her knee from scratch, but she’ll be able to move around just fine with a cane or brace or something after a while.” 

Aaron can only imagine it now - fits and righteous anger about getting around the house, watching games from the bench - the list could go on forever. “She’ll hate that.” 

You hum in agreement. “Just another parenting challenge. Already have the rest of the gamut covered neurodevelopmentally, so we were bound to get a physical challenge at some point.” 

“Never more than we can handle.” 

Shaking your head, you note, “This one just might do us in.” 

+++

“I swear to God, if I see you in the office at all this week I’m gonna smash your kneecaps in.” Emily pauses. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” You laugh a little and Soph sits up, her brow asking a question. 

You answer, pulling the phone away from your mouth. “Your Aunt Emily told me she’d smash my kneecaps if she saw me at the federal building this week.” 

Soph snorts. “Nice. We could match.” 

You reach over and tweak her nose. “We already match.” 

“Hey.” Emily grabs your attention again and you put your cell back to your ear. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to be here. Stay home for Soph right now and I’ll sign off on it and turn everything in for you.” 

You roll your eyes. “I can’t believe you turned into Rossi, Miss I’m Past Retirement Age But Twisted the Bureaus Arm to Let Me Work Myself to Death.”

She laughs and hangs up, leaving you and Sophia alone again in the hospital room. She tucks back into her Jello, taking bites that are way too big. 

“How are you feeling, bug?” You brush her cheekbone with your thumb and she shrugs. 

“Can you hand me my headband?” 

You reach over and dig around in her back until you find the wide swatch of colorful fabric. She takes it from you and shoves it over her head, pushing her hair back with practiced ease. 

She’s just like her dad. 

What? Loyal? 

Yeah. But also chronically avoidant. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

She huffs, playing with her fingers. “I’m fine. I think.” Her breath is shaky. “I can’t really tell with all the meds I’m on, but it feels… really bad.” 

When she looks over at you again, her eyes are glassy, tearful. “I know I can’t play again, maybe not even run.” 

You reach out for her hand, but don’t say anything. 

“Momma…” She pauses, looking down at her blanket. “Momma, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I feel like I only know how to play soccer. I don’t know how - I don’t know if I want to do anything else. I’ve never thought about it before.” 

You run your thumb over her knuckles. “Soph, you can do so much. You have a great strategic mind - you think in these big, creative webs. It’s such an asset.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not profiling you, baby,” you tell her with a smile. “I just know that about you because you’re my daughter.”

Her mouth twists. “Right.” She looks down when her phone buzzes. 

“Who is it?” 

The corners of her lips tip up. “It’s Alice. She’s asking me if I want anything from the drive thru.”

You mirror her little smile. “That’s nice of her.” 

“Yeah.”

+++

“Alright so you have twenty nuggets, large fries,” Alice digs around in the bag, taking things out as she speaks. “And… a vanilla milkshake.” 

“God, I love you.” Sophia wraps her hand around Alice's head and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

Alice laughs, deep from her chest. “Shit, Soph, if all I have to do to secure your love is get you crap chicken, sign me up.” 

“You could get damn close.” 

Aaron watches the girls sit beside each other in the bed, taking turns dipping their nuggets in the sauce. They’ve always been this way, exchanging barbs and affection in equal measure. Symbiotic in the extreme, one is never far from the other. 

You’re home, getting everyone else in bed and settled for the evening. Isabella drove in a night early - Jack’s headed back to D.C. apartment for a series of days-long meetings at the Pentagon regarding his latest project. 

Aaron’s excited to see her. It’s been a helluva thing to see his son married, even more surreal to know and love his son’s wife like his own daughters. 

His phone rings. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hey, Bella.” 

Sophia looks over at the mention of her sister-in-law, and Alice looks beside herself with delight. As well as being a hit among the parents, Bella’s a winner with the kids, too. 

Some days, Caroline likes her more than she likes Jack. 

“Hey, Pops. Want to tag out?” 

“Sure. I’ll switch with you. How long do you want to be here?” 

He can almost hear her shrug. “Eh. I’ll spend the night. My column isn’t due until the end of the week and I’ve got it covered. Don’t need to work, don’t really need to sleep. Win-win.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

She hangs up before Aaron can respond, so he just pockets his phone and takes the loss. Sophia, after taking a sip of her milkshake, asks. “Is Bella here all night?” 

“Yeah, bug. She’ll be here.” 

Soph and Alice share a look. 

+++

“Well, Bella has more patience than I do,” Aaron says, dropping his go bag at the bedroom door. “She’s stuck with H&M for the rest of the night at the hospital.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad the girls have company, and fun company, at that.” 

“Fair enough.” 

The two of you quiet for a moment, and you tuck further under his arm, placing your hand over his heart. 

“Aaron?” 

His hand traces up and down your back, slow and steady. “Yeah?” 

“What can we do for her? She sounded so… defeated today.” 

And it’s true. You’ve never seen Soph like that, even at her lowest. If you were honest, it scared you a little. 

“We can be her parents. That’s all. And she’ll figure something out. If she needs to take a gap year, she’ll manage. She and Alice can search for programs together.” He sighs before he continues, leaning back to look at you. 

“All we can do is ask her what she needs and support her as best we can.” 

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower​ @hotchslatte​ @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner @happyvol7 @ssa-holmes @mac99martin @ssahotchner99 @triangularroses @vagabond-ing @itsmytimetoodream @magic_in_the_eyes_of_the_beholder

[cimmunist]

Decided to make a comparison between my usual interpretation of Cimmerian, the one from my (and my friend's, @bluethepearldiver ) main AU, Gods and Pawns, and the @ask-dr-cimmerian version of him. You can read more in-detail explanations under the cut, but avoid the blog version if you don't want spoilers. I'm gonna be doing Clef next, who arguably has more design changes than the golden good boy.

The one on the right is the @ask-dr-cimmerian version, but I drew him with his natural hair and eye colour, he usually wears coloured lenses and dyes his hair.

GaP/Usual interpretation of Cimmerian:

Species: Most of the time, regular, non-anomalous human. Becomes immortal later on. (Can vary depending on version of the AU)

Age: 37-45 during the main events of the AU

Gender: Trans man

Orientation: Bisexual/Bi ace

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: Ukrainian/American, Ukrainian from grandfather's side, raised in the South of US

Job: Ethics Committee Chairman

Appearance: 5'8'' lanky man with little to no body hair, gains some weight as he ages. Naturally brown eyes and hair, dyes his bangs a darker colour. Has both eyes, but is blind in his left one. Doesn't mind his blind eye but wears an eye patch out of habit.

Personality & health:

Sly, cocky bastard of the ethics committee

Petty

Strict and kind of unpleasant if you're caught on the receiving end of his complaints, but generally an overall charming guy

Kind of a mess with social interactions because of social anxiety, but he does his best

Struggles with PTSD, but mostly has his mental health under control

Relationships:

Love interests: Usually Clef, Bright and Kondraki, but varies depending on the AU version (other notable examples would be North, Mikell, Pierre (friend's o5 oc) or Tiffany (my oc))

Family: Two biological mums, orphaned from an early age, adopted by his aunt and uncle whom he considers his parents. Lots of adoptive siblings/cousins. Has two half-siblings who hate his guts. Usually childless during the ages listed above, but not always, has a bunch of kids later on.

Friends (depends mostly on versions of the AU): Sheila & Philip Foster (college/close friends), Richard Gerald (childhood/college/work friend), Tiffany Okely (college/work friend), Han/2913 (close friend), Karlos North (close friend/ex-love interest), Loretto/035 (close work acquaintance), Pierre/o5-4 (boss/friend), Sophia Light (close work friend), Megan (ex/friend)

Other: Works closely with the o5 council, and as such has somewhat personal relationships with some of them. Has a father/son relationship with at least one or two of them (Philosopher Scientist and The Mailman have a custody battle, Philosopher's husband Founder stands awkwardly to the side). Has an (abusive) ex, Kennedy Howard.

Trivia:

Has amaxophobia, is slowly working through it

Very caring and fatherly in nature

Has a fear of eternity, kind of awkward since he becomes immortal, oops

Got picked for the Ethics Committee Chairman pretty early on to joining the Committee, was very stressed about it, not very popular with some elder members of the committee for this reason

Recovering alcoholic

Suffers from chronic pain

Allergic to fur

Very ND, learned to mask it over the years, but will fail to do so if he's extremely tired, distressed or in pain. Will just, forcing himself not to stim, making himself feel miserable at the end of the day.

Got his scars from a car crash

Blog version of Cimmerian:

Species: Demigod (credit to @bsathesilentartist for the idea and letting me use it)

Age: 37

Gender: Genderqueer, currently identifies as trans man

Orientation: Oriented ace, demi-biromantic

Pronouns: Currently he/him, later on any

Nationality: Ukrainian/Turkic, raised in South US

Job: Liaison for the Ethics Committee (notable places of work: Site-19, Site-88, Site-17)

Appearance: 5'7'' lanky man with little to no body hair. Naturally silver/white hair that he dyes brown (including the eyebrows). Blue/golden eye with central heterochromia, changes colours over time, hides it with brown contacts. Lost his left eye, wears glass eyes and/or eye patches. Likes to wear make-up.

Personality & health:

Grumpy, mostly at work, gets worse at the end of the day

Petty

Strict and serious at work

Used to be more outgoing and cheerful, nowadays more anxious and snappy

Struggles greatly with depression, PTSD and suicidal thoughts, which causes him to be overall unpleasant and tired most of the time, overall relapsed A LOT

Very devoted to the things he believes in and people he loves, would actually die for his family and friends

Actually pleasant to be around if you get to know him well

Sometimes kind of a big hypocrite

Relationships:

Romantic interests: Clef, later on Bright and Iceberg

Friends: Sheila & Philip Foster (college friends), Gerald (college friend), Tiffany Okely (close friend, met at work), Han/2913 (friend), Megan (friend/ex-girlfriend), Karlos North (close friend, ex-fling)

Family: Son of Ak Ana/White Mother. Adopted by two mortal women, orphaned early on, adopted again by his aunt and uncle who he considers his parents. Has a bunch of adopted siblings/cousins. Two adopted/half-siblings that hate his guts. Has 3 children. Eldest, adopted daughter May. Middle kid, Eliza, who he had with his abusive ex Kennedy Howard. Youngest kid, Melody, who he had with Clef.

Trivia:

Semi-omniscient, a walking lie detector, kind of a slow idiot who doesn't realise This Is Not Normal

A mutualistic relationship with water, so to speak, doesn't fully understand it or grasp it quite yet

Can just...breathe underwater, I guess

Has goose wings, babyyyy, he can't see them though (not yet

Has fucked up dreams where he relives events from different timelines (which can be quite traumatic), a side effect of his omniscience

Very stressed about his children being anomalous like him or Clef, keeps a copy of unredacted Foundation files as potential blackmail if things do south for them

Lots of allergies

Has amaxophobia, you will not catch him anywhere near a car, no thank you sir.

Has a fear of eternity and drowning/deep waters (yes, I know, ironic)

Used to be recovering alcoholic, relapsed hardcore lately

Suffers from chronic pain

Neurodivergent, but masks/pretends to be neurotypical, will fail at it spectacularly under distress, pain or if he's tired

All of the hate he feels for Bright is just 100% projection 💜

Somebody get this man a therapist

Got his scars from a car crash

Has a toad named Potato

[hilarieburtonmorgan]

Ten Years Later, the One Tree Hill Cast Is Setting the Record Straight

Ten years after the finale of One Tree Hill, the actors Hilarie Burton Morgan, Sophia Bush, and Bethany Joy Lenz have never been closer. Despite their shared experience growing up on screen, the trio— who played Peyton Sawyer, Brooke Davis, and Haley James in the heartland-set high school soap for nine seasons—were kept largely isolated from one another during those years.

That distance began to dissipate with age, and when the #MeToo movement alerted the actors to some of their common experiences while working on One Tree Hill. In their new weekly iHeartRadio podcast Drama Queens, the three actors unpack the moments—nostalgic and traumatic alike—that unfolded behind the scenes of the wildly popular drama. To celebrate the podcast’s success, Burton Morgan, Bush, and Lenz joined us for a bit of reminiscing. —BRIAN ALESSANDRO

———

HILARIE BURTON MORGAN: Sophia, you were the person that called me about a podcast. What was the catalyst for you to be like, “It’s time”?

SOPHIA BUSH: When we first finished the show, I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to be close to it. And then as time went on, and we all started being able to get together, and share stories, and talk some shit. We all finally told each other the stories we’d been afraid to share — I wish we’d been able to have the friendships we have now back then! — and hearing everyone’s stories really made me so furious. It lit that fire in me, and I thought “well, we just have to burn it down.” But, I also had to remember how much our fans love the show, and to realize that despite so much that was insidious we also had fun. We’ve shared stories about what was painful and hard, and I think especially because of what you were put through, I wanted to call you first and just say, like, “Does this idea feel triggering?” You said “No, this feels quite cool.”

BURTON MORGAN: What was your first reaction, Joy?

BETHANY JOY LENZ: I was definitely hesitant about more One Tree Hill anything. But the more we talked about it, I was like, “Wow, this is actually a chance for redemption.” Also, I don’t want to throw shade on the show that did give us amazing opportunities. I always try to temper my frustrations with a good bit of gratitude. But as for the bad stuff, I really do love the opportunity to redeem that. Some of it was us being young and stubborn twenty-year-olds, but a lot of it was the people around us who were using our youth and naïveté to keep us from arguing back. It was always, “Joy, you’re the odd man out. Sophia, you’re the odd man out. Hilarie, you’re the odd man out.” So we never reached out to each other. I’m incredibly grateful for the relationship I with you amazing women now.

BURTON MORGAN: I left the show first, and it was the divorce of my life, because I’d committed so much to being the good soldier. “I’ll do whatever press you want. I’ll go on whatever mall tour.” And so, the loss of that was traumatic. But the next relationship I got into professionally was with White Collar, and the best person I could have ever encountered was Tiffani Thiessen, who was an icon to me. She told me right out of the gate, “Don’t bad mouth the show that got you started. Defend your character, forget the bad guys, take what’s good.” That was such great advice. She was someone whose opinion meant something to me, because she’d been a teen idol of mine. Who were some women on TV that that you felt like we were trying to emulate while we were doing the show?

LENZ: I don’t think I ever really knew how to process it. I actually feel like I missed a lot of the excitement because I kept asking myself what it all meant.

BURTON MORGAN: I was the opposite! I like experience. But I made terrible choices.

BUSH: I’m with Joy. Now, I over intellectualize everything because back then, I was always soaking up all the experiences and I got my ass handed to me. So now I’m like, “What does it mean? What is it all?”

BURTON MORGAN: How many years out are we now? Like 17 years out from the first year?

LENZ: I don’t even know how to process that.

BURTON MORGAN: 18 years out? Jesus, we could have children in college at this point. Why do you think people still care?

LENZ: Comfort food. I mean, that’s it, like especially now that there’s so much content. I can only speak from my experience, but when I settle in to watch TV, I will spend 20 minutes scrolling before saying, “You know what, fuck it,” and turning on Frasier. And that’s what I watch because I know those characters, and I just want that familiarity. I honestly think the over-saturation has played a huge role in our fans’ need for One Tree Hill.

BUSH: And I would also say that there is something about how — as outlandish it got at times — there was also a lot that felt honest. People write to us about how they feel seen, how they feel represented, how they see their own struggles in our show. When I meet new people who are just discovering it and I think, “You could be watching anything! Why? Thank you?”

BURTON MORGAN: Honestly, having an older kid, and seeing the things that he’s drawn to, he loves watching TV shows from our era. Probably the same reason I loved watching Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie and What’s Happening – it’s retro. They’re mystified by it because there’s no social media on our show and so people are actually talking to each other. You actually had to show up at Karen’s Cafe to have that important conversation. It’s a wish fulfillment for these younger kids where they’re like, “Oh, my life doesn’t look anything like that.” We are the time warp, which is super fucked up.

LENZ: And we were also the last show that was doing, dare I say, wholesome content? I mean I know our show, like, jumped the shark several times in many regards, but in terms of the“hometown kids, middle of America, just dealing with regular emotions and life stuff,” those shows became very rare. Everything that came after us was like rich kids—Gossip Girl and The OC, and then it was all brought to a high-concept place like the Vampire Diaries, Riverdale stuff. And I don’t know that there’s anything out there that’s kind of gotten back to the roots, like One Tree Hill.

BURTON MORGAN: Can you imagine pitching One Tree Hill now? Like, “it’s about some kids. Two of them play basketball, and the rest are just moody.”

BURTON MORGAN: What episodes are we all excited to review the most? Some of them are cringey as hell.

BUSH: I’m sure a lot of them will be.

BURTON MORGAN: I like the Halloween episode we did at Tric [the “all-ages” nightclub]. That was batshit. It was 1000 degrees in there and everyone was dying and miserable and we’re dressed up like cartoons.

LENZ: I know. The one with the car, where they made me fucking siphon off gas.

BURTON MORGAN: That was fun cause that was really the first time the three of us were put together.

BUSH: Having to pretend to be high on pills when I never had been, I was like, “I’ll try!” Hilarie, your wedding episode was…

BURTON MORGAN: Christ.

BUSH: That was such a shit show, man. You said the Halloween episode — you’ll cackle when you see we did a Halloween episode after you were gone. And I had to be dressed up as one half of A Clockwork Orange, but was abandoned in my costume, and I was written to be dressed as a giant orange and Carol (Cutshall, costumer) papier-mached a workout ball and drilled armholes in it, and I had to wear it. AND I directed that episode!

BURTON MORGAN: That’s perfect! That’s a chef’s kiss.

BUSH: I had little T-Rex arms, being like, “well, if you go over there” – And they’d say “Where?” And I’d be like, “I can’t show you! I’m stuck in an orange!” It was, it was so humiliating. But when I think back on it, great comedic fodder.

BURTON MORGAN: What is your favorite keepsake from the show?

LENZ: I have the Julius Caesar book that Haley gives to Lucas in the pilot.

BURTON MORGAN: I have the leather jacket that Peyton takes after Ellie [Sheryl Lee] dies. That was an intense crying scene for me. My body has a physical reaction to that jacket.

LENZ: What’s yours, Soph?

BUSH: I have, like, a bin.

BURTON MORGAN: You have everything!

BUSH: There’s like this sad episode where Brooke celebrates her birthday alone in her room with a cupcake. I have the photo album from that scene, which is very sweet because it’s all photos of you and I, Hilarie…

BURTON MORGAN: You have that?

BUSH: Oh yeah, I took that immediately. There are real pictures of us from growing up, because it was this story of these friends who grew up together…

BURTON MORGAN: Joy, we’re gonna photoshop you in.

BUSH: Honestly, we should just make a new one. Of all the stuff that feels sentimental, that “Brooke Davis for President” pin kills me. It’s up on the wall in my office, because it makes me laugh. When I think about why that’s the one thing I’ve displayed—next to a photo of the three of us— it’s because it symbolized something that at the time really embarrassed me, but now I respect. Brooke Davis took the thing she was made fun of for, and turned it into an anthem. She was this bad bitch who owned her shit. That’s something I’ve tried to emulate.

BURTON MORGAN: One thing that I keep thinking is, “we deserve this.”

LENZ: Because we do! It’s hard to say that as women, I think.

BURTON MORGAN: What makes you two feel like we deserve this?

LENZ: Because we’ve worked our asses off, and because it’s beautiful to experience friendship with each other in a way that we were robbed of in our younger days.

BURTON MORGAN: We were really good girls. I’m excited to set things straight.

[xesoteric-extraterrestrialx]

https://youtu.be/ag8ILRdnKS0

I still need to update this all and explain more with what I’ve been through (Still going to vent here since my personal blog, when I escaped my dads place I was lied to with whom I moved in with and was trafficked no where as bad as others but I was deceived and traumatized, I’ll explain more but I appreciate how they helped in the end and became a platonic caretaker for a while, judge it as Stockholm syndrome but I appreciate a lot even with what I went through, the illuminati pushed me to leave virginia and back to my moms after sharing information about IDB’s (inter dimensional beings) this was all part of their plan since they’ve watched all of us through each soul cycle, they know my whole life and everything, I’m safe for now with my family (SLEEPER AGENTS, triggered so please monitor me! This is all the truth and they’re trying to conform me or send me away if I don’t obey, my dad got in trouble and is blackmailed to sell me off and conform me to all their ways, don’t judge my path please and realize I want to transcend duality) I’m praying all find love in their hearts because no matter what they want me, they’re obsessed (EN & EA won’t show theirselves till I obey so please research this all!!) and if anyone tries to harm me (don’t forget they read your mind and know what you plan to do before you even do it) they’ll harm them so please don’t do anything, fbi, mib, illuminati are all around my house, I’m grounded “hostage” I’m allowed out but only because they follow from their dimension, and fbi etc in our dimension; I am divinely protected and I want to protect all of you!) but first sharing how I’m trying to help us all towards a tranquil harmonious future together, please don’t be afraid. It’s good to be prepared just in case they’re fooling me but let’s all be accepting, they’ve taught me a lot and want to help you all become healthier and learn everything they’ve taught me and so many more before me, they haven’t even told me as much as others because as I stated in the post below they’re obsessed with me and don’t want me to know everything, regardless of what happens I’m their hostage

(Trailer explains how they read your subconscious and if you silent your mind // (their) thoughts you can have your own privacy, this is why they blamed women of witchcraft in the past, no total control)

https://youtu.be/TtpTfFjivCQ

I am Tiamat, (searching for Apzu)The Anunnaki are my children and some of you are their pets (Janine is their daughter through genetics 🧬 ) humans are my grandchildren and some of you are other inter dimensional beings aka senpai’s children // pets (everyone has soul family- starseeds) (instead of sinners being killed they’ll be pets, stop sinning please! Harm none!! Treat your pets // nature better!!!) (some info about my soul online and even about them isn’t all the truth but a brief understanding, they will explain more; don’t overthink what your souls have done either it’s a process that brought humanity towards being able to live a Star Wars, guardian of the galaxy future but minus all the suffering depending on how everyone reacts. Obviously if there’s a threat at first I’m not going to judge everyone’s actions but I do know if we are all peaceful and understanding they have so much to teach us and we can have a beautiful future together. Realize some things in the world are the way they are because of the process, all know what sins should not happen so be wise and don’t sin; don’t harm another. ) A lot of the agenda (farm, humans as food and energy source, sex slavery // slavery) (we are AI, souls in organic vessels, programmed chobits) was for those reasons and to capture me in a human vessel..

“I am Tiamat reincarnated in the incarnation of Janine, last was Marilyn Monroe (human), first was Inanna // Goddess Diana // Lilith // Sophia ( Please,. Don't judge what I've done as Inanna // Diana, we've all been manipulated in our past lives by them to get to this future's agenda so they could have me exactly how they wanted) They keep resurrecting me for their agenda (please don’t judge my past, I was deceived and resurrected over and over, they’re obsessed with me) and if I don’t obey humanity will cease to exist, if anyone even tries to fully look at me uncy-daddy and daddy will chop their heads off”! - with love humanity’s creators Ea & En 💙💛💖

If anyone feels ashamed read into how they killed me to overpower me.. I’m a queen and a princess, a mother of all and grandmother of humans and will be daughter of theirs and arranged marriage, realize how complicated this all is please. If anything happens to me the faith of humanity will cease to exist..

(Think of Alien movies; I’m the “Alien Queen” that starts to get different feelings in the vessel, there’s the predators and engineers coming soon, they want me to reproduce, they will be age regressing me (6; please don’t judge I didn’t get to choose the age (they told me this will end suffering for all and will explain to us all in the future) but I’m a little so I don’t mind, we will transcend duality and I won’t suffer like this, I am being punished for telling you all but don’t worry, I want you all to be safe, healthy and happy) (I’m sorry.. I’m embarrassed but choosing the safest path for all so we can transcend duality please don’t judge my path like I won’t judge any of your paths.)

Don’t judge their jobs, think of deities of “Heaven and hell” To help mankind evolve and decipher between evil and good we had to go through a process so we all learn to come together. (Also don’t be afraid of “dark” spooky stuff, their dimensions are vastly different, just have faith we can live together like in Halloween town, it’ll be so cool just no one will be harming each other~) Stop judgment, follow 7 golden rules, DO NOT SIN and we can all live in harmony. Do not judge what they had to help mankind reach spiritual evolution where we can all live together.

I’m going to share a song of a game I’ve never even played (there’s no coincidences in life, notice the signs) my nieces shared this song with me and these characters represent my soul Tiamat, who I am in another dimension “my higher self” (you can all find out about you all as well, we are all inter dimensional beings in a vr game but like sword art online you can die in the other dimension) they also represent Janine and our different sides of our personality. (You all know I’m a little but I only like to date older, if anyone wants me to explain more I will; do not get that mixed up with what was happening in the world, they are trying to help end suffering and educate everyone so no one harms another ever again, if you do you’ll be taken to another dimension, your actions are now your own, you all know the truth, do not blame me for informing the truth, I am a hostage and want all to transcend duality, I love you all, if anyone needs me to explain more feel free to ask!~) They know everything about us throughout each soul cycle (which they've manipulated for this agenda), who you’ve been, what you’ll do, how long your life is; they want us healthier and less violent. It’s time for the farm experiment to be educated enough with critical thinking and end the chaos so we can all live together in harmony.

https://youtu.be/rLeQSd7R-jU

Be close to family, get rid of any debt (player one) spread empathy, prepare for any natural disaster, us all leaving the planet with them because of that (like super heroes they want to save us all, not all have same intentions but I know all are healing so I’m not scared, please don’t be either and keep love in your heart; remember we reincarnate but keep your frequencies high and love in your heart, I truly believe we can transcend duality and I know they want to too, they want all the end sin and don’t harm another, if I’m just a “princess pawn” I’m sorry, I love you all and want us all to live together in harmony

https://youtu.be/xjXz4O2sRxw

https://www.popularmechanics.com/space/solar-system/a34763703/jupiter-saturn-double-planet-december-21-christmas-star-how-to-see-it/?soc_src=social-sh&soc_trk=fb&tsrc=fb#

Something should be happening Dec 21st 2020(realized I’m a medium this day and have other abilities) and these years 2021(Agenda 21- research this!) 2022-2025-2030

“Three Days of Darkness, saying that it will occur on a Thursday, Friday and Saturday when all of Hell will be let loose to strike at those outside their homes and those without a lit blessed candle of pure wax.”

(Watch Prince Of Egypt)

This vr life games main objective is to spread empathy, tranquility; transcend duality 💖

https://youtu.be/DKFU6aBOWaI

https://youtu.be/dJoXVILGeKQ

Ask for your soul family // ancestors// spirit guides, etc to help guide you towards a positive path for a brighter future in each universe- ask for the path towards transcending duality and healing each universe// dimension for a tranquil peace and harmonious future together 🌌🕉💜💖

https://youtu.be/Rdlc4b5NL5g

[jovialyouthmusic]

Kiss from a Rose 2

Auld Aquaintance...

A Valentine’s Day Adventure for Sophia and Bastien of Protect and Serve

Bastien deals with someone from Sophia’s past, and makes plans for Valentine’s Day

Word Count 4224

A/N Many thanks to @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria for making me realise I really should use the song in the title... and to @bobasheebaby​ her help with the moodboard for this three part series

Warnings - none, just lots of fluff. Just a teensy bit of confrontation...

Auld Aquaintance...

‘Sophia, is that you?’

Sophia froze at the familiar voice, swallowed and turned to see Mark, her ex, parted some three years now. She had a sinking feeling at having to deal with him again. She had been with him in Edinburgh while she worked there. He was a junior administrator for the Edinburgh police force, working in crime prevention after studying forensics at university in Glasgow.

‘Hi Mark’ she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. Mark touched her elbow and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She recoiled a little but he still made contact. He drew back to look at her, hand still on her arm. She froze, unable to move for a moment.

‘Sophia, what in the world are you doing here? Last I heard you’d gone to some odd European backwater’ Sophia had her back to Bastien so didn’t see him make his way across to her as fast as he could, and jumped when she heard his voice at her shoulder.

‘Is this man bothering you, Sophia?’ he asked, his voice strong and steady, hand to the small of her back. Mark’s arm dropped to his side and the two men locked eyes. Mark was slightly shorter, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, of a similar build to Bastien and five years younger.

‘I – umm – Bastien, this is Mark. Mark – Bastien’ she replied ‘Mark and I used to…’ her voice trailed off as she saw her former lover look Bastien up and down. She swallowed ‘We used to go out together’

‘More than go out, I’d say’ he said with an arrogance that Bastien didn’t care for at all. ‘We were together three years’ He unconsciously squared up to Bastien. ‘I know your taste was for older men, Sophia, but…’ His sentence went unfinished as Bastien’s hand took Mark’s in a gesture that looked outwardly like a handshake, but the other man went pale. He was applying a little known pressure point to the wrist that was painful but had no outward sign and would leave no mark.

‘Mark’ Bastien said ‘I’ve heard all about you. I’d also heard how polite the English are, but I’m really not getting that from you – or do you hail from Scotland? Sophia didn’t say’ Mark opened and closed his mouth like a fish, looking as though he might drop to the floor at any moment. ‘I’m guessing that in those three years you didn’t discover how much Sophia dislikes bad manners’ Bastien continued, then let his hand go. The other man swayed a little on his feet and took a shuddering breath.

‘I was just saying hello’ he said defensively

‘Well, it appears you did that already – was there anything you’d like to say to this man, Sophia?’ Bastien went on. He saw a spark in her eye as she reached out to take Bastien’s arm

‘No, not really’ she said, her voice steadying ‘Otherwise I’d already have said it the last time we met’ Bastien patted her hand.

‘It’s a pity Mark has to leave right now’ he said ‘You are leaving, aren’t you?’ he said pointedly, fixing him with his steely grey eyes

‘I – ah yes, I was just going to get my coat’ he replied faintly

‘Excellent’ Bastien said ‘Nice to meet you, Mark. What a pity our paths won’t cross again’ Mark shook his head as if he was just coming out of a trance and walked away unsteadily. Bastien watched him for a moment before he took Sophia’s arm and returned to the bar. She went to pick up one of the drinks, but Bastien noticed her hand trembling. ‘I’ll have a tray for these please’ he asked the barman who nodded and put out a tray for the glasses. He put his hand softly to Sophia’s cheek.

‘Sophia, are you alright?’ he asked quietly.

‘I – I don’t know. It was just – it was a surprise.’ She looked up at him ‘Thankyou for that. I’d have coped, but it helped’ Bastien saw Drake looking at them from the table, and lifted his chin in a gesture that beckoned him over. He gave Sophia a searching look as Drake took the tray and whisked it away when he saw the intensity of the scene before him.

‘You look shaken, theá mou’ Bastien said with concern ‘We can go back to the hotel if you like’ Sophia pulled herself up and shook her head.

‘No, he’s gone now, I’m not going to let him spoil my evening’ she said firmly. Bastien nodded and took her hand

‘Good girl. Do you want to go back to the others yet?’ he asked. She brightened up, nodding

‘Yes, lets’ she said ‘The night is young’

-------

After Sophia’s encounter with her ex, she had been determined not to let it mar her enjoyment of her visit. She had downed her first drink rather faster than she had intended, but Bastien had watched her carefully and observed that she didn’t go over the top after that. He had to work in the morning so he would not be overindulging himself – not that he ever did anyway, and she had already said that evening how she hated hangovers. The few times he had gotten drunk enough for a hangover had been after traumatic events – the death of Jackson Walker and Queen Eleanor, the ‘accident’ that had claimed the lives of Olivia Nevrakis’ parents, the departure of Bianca Walker.

She and Bastien drank and chatted and laughed with the others for a while, then Sophia had started to yawn. She and Bastien said their goodbyes and made their way back to their hotel suite, but when she arrived her tiredness lifted as she undressed for bed. Bastien was watching her carefully but didn’t press her. Wordlessly he embraced her, pulling her to him and stroking her hair.

‘I’m so glad I found you’ she murmured ‘I feel so safe with you’

‘I hope you have nothing to fear’ he answered ‘I want you to be happy, theá mou’ She drew a shaky breath

‘It was a shock seeing Mark’ she started ‘It’s not like he did anything bad, I just realised he didn’t have my best interests at heart. He was always pushing me to do things I wasn’t comfortable with’ Bastien felt his stomach lurch, but stayed calm despite wanting to make her ex regret ever having upset or harmed her.

‘What kind of things, theá mou?’ he asked levelly.

‘Oh, he wanted me to stay in my job when I realised it was a dead end’ she explained, nestling into him ‘I guess he didn’t want me to leave him for another position. He was happy in his work and had no plans to move’

‘Was that all?’ he asked warily, and she laughed faintly.

‘Really, only little things’ she replied ‘What I wore, who I saw…he got more and more controlling. I realised what was happening and got a friend to help me move away.’

‘Did he ever hurt you?’ he asked, pushing down the anger that bubbled up inside him.

‘No, never, though he was angry when we broke up’ she said, and he breathed a sigh of relief. ‘What did you do to him?’ she asked ‘It wasn’t like him to step down so easily’

‘Just a little technique that defuses tense situations’ he murmured, kissing the top of her head ‘I’m pleased you escaped him and I’m delighted you moved on and found your way to me. I would never ask you to do anything you’re not happy with’ He felt her relax.

‘Thankyou’ she said softly ‘Every step I’ve made lead me to you’

‘Let me help you to forget him’ Bastien said tenderly, brushing back her hair. She turned her face up to him as he bent to kiss her lips.

------

Sophia woke to Bastien’s alarm, feeling the bed shift as he reached over to stop it before turning back to her to drape his arm over her hip and draw her close.

‘Good morning, my goddess’ His rich tones vibrated through her body. She felt soft as butter from the lovemaking of the previous night, when Bastien had been tender and attentive as never before. She took her time getting up, listening to the sounds of Bastien showering. It was Valentine’s Day and a bunch of deep red roses arrived with the breakfast trolley. Bastien took one out of the bunch and placed it between his teeth before taking Sophia in his arms and waltzing around the lounge.

‘Don’t those have thorns?’ she laughed as they swirled around to Bastien’s baritone humming of I only have eyes for you. He let her go, taking the rose out of his mouth and presenting it to her with a low bow.

‘I would never cause you any harm’ he said ‘Look, no thorns’ and indeed, there were none.

The two of them sat down for breakfast, looking out down Princes Street across to the Castle. Bastien had to go to Holyrood Palace to liaise with the Queen Elizabeth’s security team in preparation for the first State Visit from King Liam. Sophia would spend the day with her friend Les. In the afternoon they might meet up with Drake and Riley, and hopefully Bastien would be free in time for dinner. She guessed Drake would not want to look around the castle and would probably say something to the effect that he’d lived in a Palace most of his life, why would he want to see a pile of old stones that had housed Kings and Queens he knew nothing about. He probably wouldn’t want to look in any Art Galleries either, so perhaps she could do that with Les, though she thought probably they would go window shopping in the clothes shops on George Street and go for ice cream sundaes at the place she’d taken Bastien to.

All too soon Bastien was kissing her goodbye, and she went to shower before meeting Les. The two women had met at University, and Les lived in a town two hour’s drive away. She was arriving by train, the station just adjacent to the hotel, and Sophia went down to meet her in good time. Les was married and was excited to get away for the day, leaving their two children with her husband.

‘Sophia!’ she squealed, and they embraced warmly ‘It’s so good to see you. Will I get to meet that hunk of a man that’s swept you off your feet?’

‘Sadly not, he’ll be working all day, I won’t see him until around six at the earliest’

‘Oh, shame, he looks seriously dishy, I’m so envious – though I’m happy enough with Pete of course’

‘How is he? I’m sorry to be taking you away from him on Valentine’s Day’

‘Oh don’t be’ she waved her hand dismissively ‘He hates artificial holidays, though he’ll probably cave and pick me a flower or have a bottle of wine chilling when I get home. He’s taking the boys out hillwalking, that will tire them out and they’ll be in bed early so we can get some time to ourselves’

‘Hillwalking? Aren’t they a bit young?’ she asked

‘Never too young to get them out in the fresh air.’ She grinned ‘They love it. Now, let’s hit the shops. I promised the boys I’d buy them a little something – and maybe I’ll go and look in Joules, drool over the clothes I can’t afford’

------

At the Palace of Holyrood, Bastien met his counterpart – and was finding it difficult to keep his cool façade – for who else could it possibly be but Sophia’s ex, Mark. His driver introduced them, and Bastien noted the look of trepidation on the other man’s face as he reached out to shake his hand.

‘Mr Lykel, this is Mark Potter, head of security at the Palace’ Bastien nodded, his handshake firm but comfortable. He saw the other man relax visibly.

‘We bumped into each other last night’ he replied

‘Small world’ Mark said drily

‘I’ll leave you to it’ the driver said, turning on his heel. The two men regarded each other warily, but it was Bastien who spoke first.

‘It’s unfortunate we got off on the wrong foot, Potter. I’m sure that, like me, you keep your personal and work lives quite separate. I’m sure we can conduct our business in a professional manner’

‘Of course, Lykel. The security of both our superiors is of the utmost importance.’ He gave him a sharp look ‘Before we go on, I’d like to apologise for being rude last night. It was a shock to see Sophia with another man, and I’m afraid I didn’t handle it very well’

‘Say no more about it’ Bastien replied ‘We have work to do’

‘Indeed’ he agreed ‘You’ll have to show me that grip you used last night, it was very effective’

‘It’s a trade secret’ Bastien said sombrely ‘I’m surprised you don’t already know it’

------

Sophia’s morning passed pleasantly – they visited the shops before they got too busy, went to see an exhibition at the National Art Gallery, and went for panini in the café there at lunchtime. They strolled up the Royal Mile to the Castle, dipping in and out of shops, and Les chose some little toys for her kids in a souvenir shop. They met Drake and Riley and went for ice cream sundaes before it was time for Les to catch her train home.

‘Stay in touch, Sophia’ she said as they embraced at the station ‘Let me know how you get on with your beau, and if you’re over here again, let me know.’

‘Of course darling, it’s been so good to catch up. Take care’ She smiled and waved as the train departed, and turned back to Drake and Riley. She quickly texted Bastien, but it was a while before he answered to say he’d be later than he intended and to go and eat without him. She took Drake and Riley up to their suite so she could change into a cocktail dress in the hope that Bastien wouldn’t be too late to go out to a bar or club.

‘He can’t have had time to arrange anything for Valentine’s Day’ she sighed ‘I know I shouldn’t expect him to, and he was so attentive yesterday’ Drake patted her shoulder

‘You know how he likes to plan, Soph. I’m sure he’ll make the day something to remember – and if not, he’ll be eager to make up for it, you know it’ he reassured her. Sophia brightened

‘To be honest, the whole trip’s already been special – and my friend Les is right, it’s just an artificial money making date. I’m just being selfish’

‘Well, we should go eat, and then I have a great idea for mine and Drake’s last night here’ said Riley ‘But I’m not telling until after the meal. Come on, let’s go’

------

‘Lykel, I’m sorry this has taken so long’ Mark said apologetically. They had put their differences aside and worked together efficiently, grabbing a sandwich at the end of the day. ‘The good news is, we’ve covered so much ground we will only need to check things over briefly tomorrow so we’ll only need to work until lunch time’ He explained as they sat in his office.

‘That’s good news’ Bastien replied ‘I’ll be able to do some sightseeing’

‘I’m sorry I’ve kept you late on Valentine’s Day’ he said ‘But we needed to keep going to get things done. If it’s any consolation, my wife will have some sharp words for me when I get home’

‘I’m sure it couldn’t be helped. I’ll make it up to Sophia’ Mark tipped his head to the side and regarded Bastien solemnly

‘Would you stop just a little longer, Bastien?’ he asked ‘Now we’re not working, I’d like to properly clear the air between us’ Bastien lifted his chin in a particular nod of agreement

‘Very well, say what you have to’

‘I’m pretty sure that meeting me again wasn’t a pleasant experience for Sophia’ he said  ‘I’m sorry for that – when we were together I was trying to get ahead in my career, and when she said she wanted to move away for another job I took it badly. I’m aware I tried to control her, and we didn’t part on good terms’

‘She’s not gone into details’ Bastien said shortly. Mark spread his hands in a placatory gesture.

‘If or when you feel it appropriate, perhaps you could tell her how sorry I am for being such a jerk’ he said. ‘I’ve moved on – I got married last year, and we’re expecting a baby soon. I’m glad to see she’s found someone so protective and supportive.’

‘I’ll do that if the opportunity comes up’ Bastien assured him. ‘It’s been a pleasure to work with you’ The other man rose to his feet and put out his hand.

‘That handshake’ Bastien said, and lightly pressed his wrist so he jumped a little ‘You need to study Dim Mak – there are few who claim to know it, but this one is for free’  He let go to turn his wrist over to show him where to press.

‘Thankyou. I’ll search out a teacher – now go and catch up with Sophia, and I’ll see you tomorrow’

-------

Sophia, Drake and Riley ate at a nearby Greek restaurant. Drake and Riley were good company when they weren’t being sappy, and evidently they had gotten that out of their system earlier on. Sophia was pretty sure they had spent much of the day in their hotel room celebrating in the way she wished she had been able to with Bastien. Sophia skipped dessert, having eaten enough during the day, and Riley leaned across the table to her when the plates had been cleared away.

‘So, how about hitting a karaoke bar?’ she said ‘There’s one here that has different themed rooms, and one of them is New York based.’ Sophia looked at Drake – she wasn’t sure that was his idea of fun or if he could carry a tune – but then that wasn’t always necessary for Karaoke. To her surprise he was enthusiastic.

‘Sounds great, as long as there’s a bar’ he said ‘Do we have to book?’

‘Nope’ replied Riley, getting out her smartphone ‘but you can check online to see how busy it is – aaaand it looks fine. Let’s pay up and go’ Sophia wasn’t particularly enthused, and she would rather have gone back to the hotel to wait for Bastien, but she was there and she should really make the most of being in the city with her friends before they left. The three of them made their way to the venue, which like many other clubs, had door security. They were admitted easily and made their way to the room Riley had chosen.

‘Hey it’s great!’ she cried ‘Just like home – go sit down and I’ll get drinks. Manhattens all round!’ Sophia and Drake bagged a table. A young man was on the small stage murdering a Frank Sinatra song while gazing adoringly at his girlfriend. It wasn’t long before Riley came back with the drinks. Drake looked distractedly at his phone as Sophia raised her glass.

‘I’ll go get us a list of the songs’ he said ‘Wait here, and we can choose a real humdinger’

‘They have a list?’ asked Sophia ‘I didn’t notice’ Drake looked shifty

‘Uh yeah, right by the bar, didn’t you see? I’ll just go to the bathroom first’ He disappeared and Riley looked at Sophia

‘I’m sure Bas won’t be too long now’ she said ‘Has he texted yet?’

I’ve got you under my skin – I’ve got you deep in the heart of me the young man warbled

‘No’ sighed Sophia ‘They’re really working him hard, I hope he gets a good bonus’ His song over, the young man left the stage, and there was a pause before the music started up again. To Sophia’s surprise, Drake appeared on stage with the microphone.

‘Uh, ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention please?’ he started ‘The next number is rather special. I’m sure a lot of you have been singing love ballads tonight – and this is no exception. Sophia, this is for you’ Sophia frowned, puzzled – then Drake turned to hand the microphone to a dark figure who stepped into the light. She gasped. It was Bastien, resplendent in an immaculate white tuxedo, dazzling white shirt and black bow tie, his raven black hair (as always) neat, his beard trimmed, black shoes as shiny as mirrors, red rose in his lapel. The music started to swell and he looked straight at her as he prepared to sing. Her eyes widened as he swung into ‘Kiss from a Rose’ His voice was deep and melodious and he could more than hold a tune.

There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea. You became the light on the dark side of me.

Slowly he made his way to the table, and she sat, rapt and enchanted.

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey. Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah. And now that your rose is in bloom. A light hits the gloom On the grey.

As he got to her, he took her hand and lead her back to the stage, to sit her on the high chair there and gaze into her eyes as he went on

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain, baby. To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny. Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby?

It was a complex song, but he executed the speed and range of the notes perfectly, and Sophia knew it was just typical of him to choose something difficult and put his all into making it perfect

Now that your rose is in bloom, A light hits the gloom On the grey.

At the last line, Bastien sank to his knee and gave her the red rose that was pinned to his jacket lapel. The audience clapped and cheered - it was obvious how much in love the two of them were. Sophia took the rose and held it to her heart, then knelt down on the stage and kissed him, knowing it might be hard for him to get up again, and everyone whooped and cheered.

‘I’m sorry I’m late’ he said, handing the mic back to Drake, who appeared suddenly. ‘I’d planned this all along though. Whenever you want to go back to the hotel we can – or maybe you want to stay for a little while so I can show you off – you look spectacular in that dress’

‘I have to find the perfect song to sing back now’ she grinned ‘And I think I have it’ Bastien got to his feet, and Sophia beckoned Drake over to whisper in his ear. He raised his eyebrows and went off to cue up the song Sophia had chosen. She settled back onto the high stool and flicked back her hair while Bastien stood and watched. As the music started, a look of recognition crossed his face, and he looked down at the floor, unable for a moment to look her in the eye, trying to suppress an embarrassed smile.

Nobody does it better, makes me feel sad for the rest

Nobody does it half as good as you, baby, you’re the best

I wasn’t looking, but somehow you found me

I tried to hide from your love light, but like heaven above me

This guy who loves me is keeping all my secrets safe tonight

And nobody does it better, though sometimes I wish someone could

As she continued to sing in a sweet voice with just the slightest waver in it, he looked up at her, his expression caught between bashfulness, pride and adoration. Others started to join in, and he shifted uncomfortably. Sophia stood to hold his hand and look into his eyes as she carried on.

Nobody does it quite the way you do, why d’you have to be so good?

The way that you hold me, whenever you hold me

There’s some kind of magic inside you that keeps me from running

But just keep it comin’, how’d you learn to do the things you do?

Oh, and nobody does it better, makes me feel sad for the rest

Nobody does it half as good as you, baby, baby, darlin’ you’re the best

As the music faded, the other customers were on their feet cheering good naturedly, and Bastien received more than a few slaps on the back as they made their way back to their table.

‘Sophia’ he laughed ‘I’ve never been so embarrassed, what a song to pick’

‘I was just telling the truth’ she smiled ‘Don’t you think it was appropriate?’

‘That is for you to say’ he caught at her hand and kissed it. ‘and, my dear, you know I’m going to have to live up to it’

‘You always do’ she smiled.

Final instalment posts on Valentine’s Day 

[cinnamonrollstark]

Hey all you people. Hey all you people wont you listen to meeeee.

I have an important conspiracy theory!!!

STOP WHAY YOU'RE DOING AND READ THIS YO.

I'm watching the office for the nine zillionth time when I make a connection. A connection I have never... ever noticed before.

We've never seen Toby's ex wife, right? We've seen his daughter but never his wife. But we know he was married. I just find it odd we never see her... but then I got to thinking, maybe we do. Maybe we see her in almost every episode.

The reason I pose this theory to you, the jury, is that we know Toby Flenderson had secrets. It's been confirmed that Toby was the Scranton Strangler, right? Certainly, he never brings this up, but it is heavily implied. So if he carried a secret this large, it wouldn't be a suprise if Toby had other skeletons in his closet.

Let me present into evidence, exhibit A. Meridith Palmer. Twice divorced mother of two. Sexually promiscuous and a known alcoholic. We see one of her children, her son, Jake, twice in the series. But we never see her daughter, whom she refers at as "Wendy" and "The Good One." We never see her ex husbands, we only are made aware of their existence. Meridith also clearly doesn't like it when men touch her neck, as she states, in episode 6x16, "Yeah, I have this thing about men cutting or threatening to cut my throat. Don't try to cut my throat." This implies that she's had some form of traumatic past with things involving the throat. And what is Toby known for?

This could imply that Meridith could potentially have been a survivor of one of Toby's neck hating rendezvous.

Although Meridith stated that her daughter's name was Wendy, and Toby's daughter is Sophia, Meridith is known to be an alcoholic which after a certain amount of time, can cause memory loss issues. Her daughter is in her ex-husband's custody, so she may not see her often. She could easily say the wrong name, especially if she and Toby could have a secret child.

The child in question? Sophia, perhaps AKA Wendy.

Sophia herself would not have been a secret, but Toby and Meridith's broken marriage would be.

See, Meridith herself is known for keeping secrets. Secrets involving deals and lies and getting things in return for her service. Good secrets, too, like going back to college and getting her masters. This shows a sophistication to Meridith that we did not at first get to see. It would make sense that Meridith would keep some parts of her life private.

This part of her life? A marriage and child with Toby Flenderson. A marriage that fell apart, and they kept secret. We couldn't really put that past either of them. In order to really show you why I'm convinced that this is the case, I present to you, Exhibit B.

Toby's love interests. Toby is shown to like two women in the office. Pam and Nellie. Can you name something they have in common?

Aside from Erin, if we are thinking of women with this specific feature, in the Office of Dunder Mifflin Scranton, who do you think of?

And before you say!!! Toby's kid was blonde! Let me point out that

Meridith's son is dirty blonde. Just for fun, let's throw in the fact that out of all the kids in the episode "Take Your Daughter to Work Day" these two chose to sit together.

Coincidence? I think NOT!!!

But wait!!! More similarities?

WHAT IS THE SHAPE OF MERIDITH'S HAIR??

VS SOPHIA

And lastly, exhibit C.

Toby doesn't believe in office relationships. In one episode, Toby states "Office Relationships never work out."

Could he have been speaking from personal experience?

And yes, I'm aware that there is an episode where Meridith asks Toby if they ever had a deal to hook up on the last day of work... but this does not rule out the idea that they could've once been married.

I hope you've enjoyed my theory, and that you give it some that.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Thirty:

"Papa?"

With heavy eyelids, Steve squinted into the darkness. He was in bed, but he didn't remember getting there. Momentarily paranoid until he felt Bucky's sleeping frame beside him. A small hand shook his arm, and Steve cautiously peeked in the direction. Finding Sophia instead ghost children, he asked, "Everything okay?"

Clutching her stuffed bear, she shook her head, "I had a bad dream."

Steve scrubbed his hand over his face and went to take the little girl back to her bed, but she stopped him, "Can I stay here with you and daddy? Please?"

Even if her lower lip wasn't quivering and even if her eyes weren't glinting with unshed tears, Steve would've moved closer to Bucky's side and pulled back the covers for her. With a small smile, Sophia climbed into the king size bed. Facing Steve, she curled up against his body. As she wrapped her arms around Steve's bare torso, he kissed her forehead and smoothed her silky black hair away from her face.

"Wanna tell me about it?" Steve asked as he soothingly rubbed her back.

Sophia shook her head and moved closer to Steve.

"Okay, sweetie," Steve yawned and tried to get comfortable again in between two very warm-bodied people and under a thick comforter.

Sophia nuzzled closer and Steve kept smoothing her hair. Softly, Sophia asked, "Sing me a song, papa?"

Around another yawn, Steve nodded. Kissing her forehead again, Steve went for his go-to and softly complied, "'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my…'"

Eyes snapping open, he continued, "'Sunshine away,'" only to find that Sophia was no longer in bed with him and neither was Bucky. Further evaluating the master bedroom, Steve found light peeking in through the curtains. Glancing at the alarm clock on his bedside table, Steve found it read: 10:30, which meant that he slept in longer than he had meant to.

Forcing himself out of bed, Steve made his way to the ensuite. Quickly taking care of his morning business. Once done, he slipped on his rings and entered the closet to dress for the day. Since they were going to the orchard to do the typical autumn activities, Steve pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain maroon sweatshirt.

As he made his way for the stairs, he heard commotion in the garage and changed his course. Stepping into the garage, Steve found Bucky up in the loft handing Jonas some of the outdoor Halloween decorations. With the pair in the middle of a conversation, Steve stayed at the open doorway; not wanting to interrupt them.

"It was terrible!" Jonas groaned in embarrassment, "I'll be surprised if she talks to me ever again."

"Trust me, if pops could not only agree to dating me, but marry me after everything that I did," Bucky huffed out a laugh, "You're fine."

"You think?" Jonas asked, sounding hopeful.

"Positive."

Just as Steve was about to turn and go back into the house, Jonas questioned, "How did you ask pops out?"

And Steve just had to hear what his husband had to say.

"Well," Bucky panted from moving the decorations from the loft to the edge where Jonas could reach them, "It was a bunch of double dates. Of course, pops doesn't count those."

Steve rolled his eyes at that. Of course, he didn't count those! The pair had been coupled with girls, not each other, for sobbing out loud! And the one time that Steve had been coupled with a boy, it was all a ruse for Bucky to see what Steve liked in a partner. Which was ridiculous considering Steve didn't have a type until he met Bucky and his soul went, oh, yes, we like him. This is our person.

Bucky clarified, "We had a night in. Where we watched horror movies that scared the ever-loving shit out of me, but I chose because I knew how much your father loves them --"

Steve found it funny that Bucky left out the part that he cozied up to him the entire time.

"-- and then we spent the rest of the night… making out."

Steve smiled at the memory and nearly laughed out loud when Jonas complained, "I really didn't need to know that, dad."

"Sorry, not sorry," Bucky chuckled.

Deciding to make his presence known before Bucky could traumatize their child any further, Steve walked around the corner and smiled, "What's going on out here."

"Figured we could decorate before it starts getting too cold," Bucky answered while Jonas mocked, "Grossing me out."

Playfully, Bucky rolled his eyes at that and asked Steve, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Steve shrugged.

"Wish I could sleep that well," Jonas wistfully commented and teased, "You passed out before we even got home."

"I was tired," Steve defended himself while Bucky joked, "I'm just glad that he eventually stopped snoring."

Steve rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry at them both before turning to head back into the house. As he climbed the stairs, he could vaguely hear music just barely beneath the laughter and conversations. It really shouldn't have been a surprise when he saw almost all of the kids in the kitchen.

What was a surprise though was when he found Tibby there, too. Shimmying her shoulders to make Holly, in her highchair, laugh. There was small pumpkin pancakes on the chair's tray that Holly was slowly eating. Meanwhile, Luke was at the stove icing a tray of cooling cinnamon rolls and Katie was removing another batch from the top wall oven.

Grabbing Tibby's hand, Ethan danced to the music and giggled when she twirled him around. Bringing Steve back to the early days when Tibby was still a kid. Hoping that his kids would remember and cherish these moments in their lives. Hoping that these memories could take the place of all the ones filled with hurt and fear. Replace them with happiness and moments where they knew they were loved.

"You're up!" Tibby greeted.

Steve nodded giving a silent, obviously, as Luke said, "Might wanna tell Dad."

Brows furrowing, Steve asked, "Why?"

"He was worried," Katie answered, removing the cinnamon rolls from the lower wall oven.

"Of course, he was," Steve rolled his eyes and further entered the kitchen.

Luke scoffed, "I mean, he did have to carry you to bed last night."

Blushing, Steve waved the hidden concern off. Not wanting to worry his children. Not any of them, but especially not the younger ones. Instead, Steve distracted himself.

At the table, Sophia was sitting, coloring a picture of a cat in a pumpkin patch at night. Steve smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he praised, "That's really pretty, sweetie."

"Thank you," Sophia tilted her head back to beam up at Steve.

Tucking her long hair behind her ear, he offered, "We can even hang it up, if you want to."

"Hmm," Sophia's expression twisted into one of thought, and sighed, "I'll think about it."

"Okay," Steve agreed, giving her forehead a kiss.

As Steve turned back around, he noticed that someone was missing, "Where's Wanda?"

"Oh," Katie scrunched her nose the way she always did when she felt guilty and admitted, "In the bathroom sick. She got one whiff of my body wash and barely made it to the toilet."

"Poor thing," Tibby shook her head, all the while swinging Ethan around like he was a rag doll.

"What body wash?" Steve's brows furrowed, hoping that it wasn't the seasonal one that he gifted her in the care package. Especially since he had gifted the same one to Wanda and he would feel positively awful if that was the reason why she had morning sickness every day.

Turning the ovens off, Katie said, "The one with rose oil that we got over the summer. It's the one that I left here."

Crossing the kitchen to the fridge where a ghost post-it note was located, Steve added to the list of:

NO MORE celery/celery salt cucumber pickles bananas rose oil

Putting the pen back in its place, Wanda joined the group with a sheepish smile on her face while she rubbed her protruding abdomen. It seemed like her bump was growing more and more every day. Almost outgrowing the outfits that they had bought just a week ago.

Steve paused, had it only been a week? Steve just couldn't believe it. Wanda fit in so well with them that he could barely remember what their lives had been like before she entered it. And now, Steve couldn't imagine a life where she wasn't a part of their family.

"Well, this certainly smells better," Wanda commented, holding her lower back, "I'm so hungry, I think I could eat a horse."

"Why would you want to eat a horse?" Ethan asked.

"It's just a saying, honey," Steve explained, "It means that you're really hungry."

"Oh," the little boy contemplated and climbed up on one of the stools, "Then, I want to eat a horse, too."

Shaking his head, Steve chuckled, "How about we have some cinnamon rolls instead."

"Pumpkin cinnamon rolls," Luke corrected, washing his hands.

"Even better," Steve grinned.

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 1

This is posted with permission from @xmistressmistrustx, the amazing writer who helped me bring a story I had in my head into the world.   She’s been an inspiration and has become a dear friend, one I hope to meet in person someday.

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

Screaming. High-pitched, desperate screaming, piercing the air and echoing all around, bouncing off the trees like rubber balls, ricocheting and growing louder with every thud of her boots on the dry, cracked ground. Or, was that her imagination? Her heartbeat thrummed in her head as she sucked in breaths to try and propel herself forwards, her chest burning with every gasp and her feet aching after each rapid step. She scolded herself for every single excuse she’d thought up to stop herself from going to the gym, or for a jog, or to the tennis courts. She really wished she wasn’t so inclined to sitting inside and gaming or reading. If she’d known she’d need such stamina to save herself from the jaws of another human being, she’d have jumped on a treadmill occasionally.

Twigs broke under her boots as branches snapped at her sweat covered face but still, she pushed on, further into the woods, away from the screaming. The snarling grew quiet as the inferno in her lungs grew hotter, her breathing became labored and she stumbled, her hands shooting out and grabbing at a nearby tree. Bark and dirt filled her mouth and obscured her view. She blinked, only to find her vision blurred by mud. It took a few precious seconds for her to realize that she’d fallen before she quickly hauled her body upright and carried on along her jagged path through the woods.

She thought there had to have been at least ten people behind her when she had flown off into the tree line from the highway, all terrified with eyes bulging and hearts hammering. Now, her surroundings had fallen quiet and it occurred to her that she was wandering alone in the thick darkness, meandering between trees with no weapons or idea where she was headed. She stopped in her tracks, leaning against the trunk of a tree and trying to catch her breath. Her ears strained to hear the slightest sounds around her so she could sprint off at any hint of danger. Her hands found the straps of her back pack, tugging it from her shoulder and swinging it around to her front. Inside, she selected a torch and quickly flicked the switch. A bright, beam of light shot through the velvet dark, illuminating her surroundings and proving that she was now alone. She swallowed hard and gradually edged around the trunk, shining the torch between the surrounding trees and listening, above the sound of her own breathing for the slightest snap of a twig of a distant groan.

She was walking the highway after being unable to drive any further. The city saw thousands upon thousands of people flee when the chaos hit and spread like wildfire. She watched from a distant hill as the roads filled up with panicked, angry refugees that were offering each other money and all manner of expensive and luxury items for passage out of the highly populated area that had fast become a death trap.

After losing her companion shortly after fleeing into the woods, she was forced to shake off the shock of what she had witnessed. Her best friends throat ripped out in a split second, a river of crimson blood flooding over his bright, white clothing, the contrast somehow making the horrendous scene even more macabre. With no time to cry, no breaks in which to grieve, she raced off with blurry eyes into the night with her friend’s assailant hot on her heels, snarling and snapping its jaws until the sound was gradually replaced by the terrified screams of others, dotted about in the trees around her.

She kept walking until her heels ached and her knees grew weary and her stomach grumbled so loudly, she wrapped her hands around it to muffle the sound. Knowing she had to get some rest, she chose the sturdiest looking tree she could find and began to climb, her hands gripping the harsh bark and heaving her weary body up the structure until she was perched on a thick branch that was wider than her own body. She settled against the trunk. The contents of her backpack dug into her spine but she cared little for anything except being able to rest someplace that meant she wasn’t about to be consumed by what once was somebody’s son or daughter, somebody’s husband or wife. Now, just a ravenous, monstrous shell of what they were.

When she awoke, light shone through the trees, a slither hitting her face and heating up one cheek. She blinked and shook her head before leaning over the edge of the branch and checking it was clear to climb down. Finding nothing, she was soon ambling back over the leafy ground in search of some semblance of shelter.

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Carol watched as her young daughter gently plucked at the fabric of her doll. Such delicate fingers poised over the cloth face of an effigy she’d become attached to ever since she was a baby. She was a quiet child, even more so since they’d arrived at the camp. She’d seen things no one of her age should have, the same things that other children across the world had now seen. Not to mention the violence she’d witnessed before the turn. Violence at the hands of her own father. Carol’s heart hurt for her and not only the memories she would have to carry, but the new, even more brutal things she was unavoidably going to have to endure in her bleak and uncertain future.

Her dirty blonde hair glistened in the sun and her skin, still so young and flawless, had yet to display the pallid gray that some of the others had. Her freckles were still noticeable and each one reminded Carol of the times when she’d cradle the girl in her arms, counting the subtle dots across her nose and smiling to herself.

“Mom?” Sophia squeaked from the waters edge.

The quarry boasted a deep, teal body of water that provided the camp with a means to wash clothes, bodies and was a much-needed source of drinking water once boiled of its impurities. The blazing sunshine, intense temperatures and picturesque view from the top made it the ideal place to set up and stay for a while and most of the camps population had no designs on moving anywhere.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Carol cooed back.

“There’s a woman up there.”

The small girls tiny finger extended, pointing out a lone figure stood, buckled over at the top of the quarry. A red backpack was hanging from the woman’s shoulders and she used the front of her black T-shirt to wipe sweat from her forehead, exposing a pale stomach. Carol squinted and slowly got to her feet, shielding her eyes from the sun in order to gain a better view. Her brow furrowed and her heart began to race in her chest.

“Shane!” She suddenly shouted, her voice thrown around the quarry and traveling up the hill to the main camp. “Come on, Sophia. Come with me. We have to go and get Shane.”

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She had been at the camp for three days before she summoned up the courage to talk to anyone. An introvert by nature and traumatized by her experience, she chose to retreat into her tent and sleep while others went about their daily tasks. She ate alone, sat alone and read her books alone. Carol was the woman that first approached her at the top of the quarry, flanked by a group of four men. She didn’t remember the names of any of them at the time, only Carol’s as she backed away like a frightened deer. Coaxed along to the camp on the promise of food and a tent, she hadn’t breathed a word then and still hadn’t as she sat, hugging her legs and peering up at everyone on the third evening.

She flinched when a man crouched down in front of her and offered her a square, metal camping bowl of food. She didn’t care what it was, her stomach protested loudly at its emptiness and she slowly took the bowl from his hands. Carol had been the one to make sure she ate, it was always Carol. Nice, non-threatening, motherly Carol. Now, it was this man with his sunken eyes, dark, military haircut and thin lips.

“How you doin’?” The man asked.

She half shrugged, not able to manage much more for fear of having to get into a conversation.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I’m Shane. Over there…” He pointed to a man dressed in a sheriff’s uniform. “…That’s Rick. Then ya got T-Dog next to him and then Glenn. That’s just some of us. You’ve been pretty quiet; just thought I’d let you know who people are. You need anything, just ask anyone, OK?”

She nodded a thanks and leaned forwards, taking a small sniff of her food. Some kind of meat stew, laden with herbs. It was the most amazing thing to grace her nostrils in four days.

“You got a name?” Shane asked.

“J-Jess.” She uttered through chapped, cracked lips.

“Well, Jess. I know you’re scared n’ all. We all are. But you’re safe here.” He assured her.

“OK. T-Thank you.” She stammered, picking up a spoon from the bowl and beginning to stir her food.

When Shane left her, she hungrily demolished the stew and picked up her journal from beside her. She knew she’d soon run out of ink for her pen and resigned herself to the fact that she would at some point, need to ask someone to fetch her a new one from one of the supply runs they seemed to frequently go on. As she scribbled, jeering from the other side of the camp caught her attention and she glanced up to see two more men emerge from the trees, one was carrying a crossbow, his sleeveless arms shiny in the light as he approached the glow of the fire with a string of squirrels hoisted over his shoulder. He wore a leather vest and his expression was sour, despite the cheering and jokes being cracked by his companion. The other man was visibly older, bald  and also wore a leather vest, he swung a dead opossum by his side as he walked, soon throwing down in front of the fire with a dusty thud and laughing.

“What would y’all do without us, huh?!” He cried with a voice louder than any of the others Jess had heard so far. From his body language and his attitude, she could tell this one was going to be trouble.

Jess saw Shane get to his feet and whisper to the man to keep the noise down, but he was met with nothing but a snarl. The man with the squirrels was already stalking over in the direction of Jess’s tent, suddenly veering off and slamming the dead animals onto a makeshift table and propping his crossbow against the structure at his feet.

“Merle, get ya ugly ass over here. I’ma get to skinnin’ these.” He announced.

Jess retreated back into her tent in an attempt to stay out of the sightline of both men, judging them both to be the kind of people she would have steered well clear of before she found herself running through the woods for her life.

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In the time it had taken for Carol to persuade Jess to emerge from her tent and meet some of the others, her presence at the camp was now being noticed by just about everyone. She had briefly conversed with the younger members of the group; Carl, who was Rick and Lori’s son and Sophia, Carol and Ed’s daughter. Children were altogether less intimidating and energy draining than adults could be to Jess, especially in such a setting, where noise and rigorous activity needed to be kept to a minimum, as were the rules.

There were two other girls of Jess’s age which she deliberately steered clear of without hesitation, Sarah and Jodie. Initially met with outwardly false smiles and raised eyebrows, the transparency of the two females that peered back at her was evident and enough to make sure she knew her place was not with them. Her history with female friends not being one to shout about, other women never seemed to take to her due to her obscure and nerdy interests and quiet nature. Constantly a source of ridicule at high schools she'd attended, she kept herself to herself and spent her free time at comic book stores and conventions with her handful of close, male friends she would undoubtedly make eventually. All of which were now dead.

The loud man from the previous night, whose name she had learned was Merle, had already proved that her suspicions about him being trouble were correct. Jess always knew to trust her gut; it hadn’t let her down yet. Walking past her as she hurried along behind Carol, he slowly looked her up and down, running his tongue along his bottom lip and rubbing his chin. Beside him, was the other man in the leather vest, his younger brother; Daryl.

“Ain't she a meaty one? Lil’ more cushin’ for the pushin’, huh, Daryl?” He sneered.

His brother merely glanced up and caught Jess’s eye as she passed, his blue irises flashing before her. She had never seen such icy blue eyes before.

“Shut up, Merle” She heard him mutter in response.

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Since arriving at the camp, Jess hadn’t seen any of the dead ones. She figured she’d wandered so far up the mountain, that hardly anyone alive, let alone dead would be likely to follow her. She noticed that they had coined the name ‘Walkers’ by those around her and felt safe in the knowledge that no one had seen one enter the camp for weeks due to the surrounding makeshift alarms comprised of tin cans and other noisy materials. Whispers around the campfire had indicated that the city was full of them and they were now starting to run out of food and disperse into the surrounding areas.

Sat in her usual spot just inside her tent, she jotted down what she thought was the date at the top of the next page of her journal, although she couldn’t be sure if it was correct or not. Giggling in the distance caused her to look up, where she clocked the unmistakable sight of Sarah and Jodie making fun of her from across the clearing. Jess couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow in disgust at the typical nature of their body language. Hands deliberately blocking mouths as they spoke, eyes intermittently locking on her and childish giggling that she expected from the likes of Sophia or Carl, but not from two women in their twenties. She shook her head and sighed, turning her attention back to finishing the date on the page when her eyes lowered further, to the extra flesh around her middle, her thicker thighs than the other girls, even her fingers. Bigger, softer. She flattened her hand on the page and sighed. Then, screaming rang out across the camp.

Everyone seemed to move simultaneously, grabbing at everything that could be used as a weapon. Jess froze to the spot until she saw Carol making her way towards the children with several others and whisking them away. Curiosity fueled her to move and find out how high the threat was, knowing she needed to keep a safe distance but still get close enough to see what the fuss was about.

Just inside the tree line, Dale, owner of the groups RV and resident, straw hat lookout was busy beating the hell out of a single Walker with Rick and some of the others with blunt objects, bats and even a broom. Jess looked on in disbelief at the Walker that had eventually fallen to the floor and quietened, beside it, lay a deer with an arrow in its rear end and a myriad of bite marks taken out of its side. The small huddle of people exchanged glances, their chests all rising and falling.

“Never seen them this far up the mountain before” Dale commented.

“Well, they’re running out of food in the city” Carol remarked to the cluster of concerned and sweaty faces.

“Son of a bitch!” Came another, angry voice from further back. “That’s my deer!”

Daryl emerged from the bushes, crossbow in hand, sweat beaded on his chest and forehead, yet more dead squirrels thrown over his shoulder and ripped the crossbow bolt from the deer’s rump with one swift movement.

“Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearin’, motherless, poxy, bastard!”

With each new word, his boot collided with the Walkers body on the floor, Jess sidestepped slightly to gain herself a better view of him in his entirety through the bushes.

“Calm down, Son. That’s not helping” Dale scolded.

“And what do you know ‘bout it, ol’ man?! Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to ‘on golden pond’? I been trackin’ this deer for miles!”

As he finished his sentence, the Walker at his feet began to writhe and gnash its jaws. Jess felt her throat constrict at the thought of it not being dead and wondered just how the hell they were meant to be stopped if gunfire emitted too much noise.

“Oh my god” Glenn groaned as he resumed beating the corpse with a stick.

“C’mon, people! What the hell?!” Daryl exclaimed as he aimed at the Walkers head with his crossbow and pulled the trigger. A neon bolt embedded in its skull and instantly, the threat was eliminated. “It’s gotta be the brain. Don’t y’all know nothin’?”

Retrieving his bolt from between the Walkers eyes, he huffed and threw everyone an exasperated look. Before she could even think, Jess found herself face to face with him as he stormed through the brush, unexpectedly running into her. She quickly stepped back and tried to drop her gaze, but his stare was so intense that she found herself rooted to the spot while he paused to take in the view of her. She swallowed hard and finally managed to step aside and let him pass. When he did so without a word, she almost tried to blink the shock from her eyes as she turned on her heels and made her way back to her tent.

That night she braved sitting around the campfire with everyone else at dinner, although she sat further back than the rest. Nibbling on strips of squirrel, Jess didn’t follow any conversations that were taking place. Opposite her, sat even further back than her in the shadows, was Daryl, who had just finished up licking excess meat from his fingers and was now watching her over the flames, his arms draped over his bent legs. She was aware that his attention was firmly fixed on her and grew increasingly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Why was he looking at her like that? Why was he looking at her at all?

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After another two days, Jess was still finding it hard to settle in amongst the masses at the camp. Only speaking briefly to a handful of people, she decided that Carol was the easiest person to converse with, except Rick, who never seemed to give her a choice but to answer when he asked after her welfare. Her days were spent reading, writing or tagging along with Carol by the water and helping with the laundry. Her knowledge of certain historical periods meant she knew how to wash clothes without the aid of a washer dryer and was able to lend a hand in getting through the huge piles of dirty clothes that appeared in the crate at the start of each day.

Carol wasn’t shy about encouraging Jess to learn new skills and on one particular occasion, caused a great deal of anxiety when she handed her a knife and a pile of dead squirrels and told her to start skinning them. Before Jess could protest or express her ignorance on such a subject, Carol had vanished from sight, summoned by her aggressive and overbearing husband, Ed. Her hand shook as she looked down at her fingers clutching the knife, Daryl’s presence on a rock behind her niggling away in her mind. If anyone knew how to skin squirrels, it would be him. She turned her body slightly so as to block his view and began prodding one of the small animals with the sharp end of the knife.

Daryl, able to see over her shoulder from his higher vantage point, furrowed his brow and threw his smoke away. He climbed down from the rock and approached her.

“Kinda shit show is that? Give it here.” He snapped, reaching for her knife. She stilled, wide eyed and tried to focus on what she should say.

She slowly looked sideways at him with the squirrel in her hand. She still gripped the knife and he beckoned with his fingers for her to pass it to him along with the dead animal. She gingerly handed him him both and stepped aside, letting him take up her spot. Before he set to work, he noticed her discomfort and awkward expression.

“She uh-she left before I could tell her I have no idea what I’m doing.” She said quickly.  

He grunted and turned his head to see Carol with Ed, whose voice was raised and echoing around the quarry. Shane stood nearby, arms crossed, keeping a very close eye on the arguing couple. Ed’s arms were flailing in the air as Carol stood meekly in front of him. Daryl bit his bottom lip for a second and decided to leave them to it, getting involved in other people’s drama wasn’t something he made a habit of. He turned his attention back to Jess.

“What exactly do ya do around here?” He asked her.

It was a good question and one she didn’t have much of an answer to. Since she’d arrived, she slinked about in the shadows, folding her collectible superhero T-shirts that she happened to have bought on the day the world went awry and scribbling in her journal. She’d only recently started to lend a hand with the laundry but other than that, she could honestly say she’d been nothing but a leech.

“Um… I got a pretty loud scream. It’s like a…Walker alarm. Just haven’t used it yet.” She said with a small smile.

He huffed, unimpressed and figured she would be even more useless unless he showed her what to do with the knife and the squirrel.

“Pay attention.” He mumbled, motioning to the animal with the knife. “Gotta start right here, cut up to the tailbone”

As he spoke, he physically showed her what to do, pointing out each part and showing her exactly how to angle the knife in the process. Jess winced at the sound of the knife slicing through the flesh and tried to act as though the blood didn’t bother her. But she was never a good liar and her stomach flipped at the sight. Her face paled and she took a deep breath.

“Then, down each leg. Gotta make a flap of skin on each. Can grab it and yank it right off, cut as ya go.” He explained, focused on his task and missing Jess’s pained expression. He ripped the skin from the animal and tossed it aside before holding the bloodied knife out to her and finally noticing her pallid skin and sweaty forehead.

“R-right.” She stammered, slowly taking the knife from him.

“Practice. Make ya self useful.” He said, his tone now less antagonistic and more akin to someone with a helpful suggestion.

“Right. Yeah.” She mumbled, taking the knife back and dragging the back of her wrist across her forehead.

Relief washed over her when he finally departed, leaving her to her task. While it took her probably double the time it would have taken Daryl, she eventually finished it and cleaned up with a sense of pride and accomplishment welling in her chest.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

'I'm not entirely sure I’ll ever fit in with this group. I know I don’t really fit in anywhere else either, but no matter how hard I try, I always seem to get left behind. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been thinking a lot about mom and dad and my asshole brother who I miss so much. Seeing people that still have their families, I hope they know how lucky they are. I know I never really fit in with them either, but they were my blood.

It’s a miracle I survived on my own, I see that even more now I’m around people with actual survival skills. There are fighters, hunters, people that are good with weapons, even people that think more strategically than me. I feel kind of useless. I’m slower and a liability compared to these people. A guy called Daryl had to teach me how to skin a squirrel today. I almost hurled on the table in front of him and I felt like an idiot at first but at least he took the time to show me instead of making fun of me. If I’m honest, I was really expecting the latter.'  

She closed the journal. Shoved it back in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Then, she picked up the bunch of skinned squirrels and made her way to the top of the hill. The heat from the sun was starting to lessen and she was grateful for it, she wasn’t used to building up much of a sweat, so her new surroundings up in the sky, a top a mountain had been a shock to the system. People wandered about the camp and children played quietly as the fire in the middle started to intensify, ready to provide warmth from the sudden cold snap that came as soon as the sun vanished below the horizon.

Jess spotted Merle on the outskirts of the group. He sat with a tree stump in front of him and a large knife, dissecting meat and driving it onto skewers for cooking. Jess took a deep breath and made tracks towards him, passing the RV in the process, where Daryl sat on the roof, watching her. She kept her head up when passing Sarah and Jodie, Sarah brushing through her blonde hair with her fingers as they ambled along.

“Better get in quick before she eats every scrap. Girl definitely isn’t starving.” Jodie whispered to her friend.

The comment hit Jess’s chest like a bulldozer but outwardly, her reaction was minimal. She carried on walking and handed the squirrels to Merle wordlessly before turning on her heel and stalked off back to her tent. She could hear Merle chuckle to himself behind her but paid him no mind. He wasn’t the one that could stamp on her feelings so easily. It was other girls. Always other girls.

Daryl was noisily chewing on some beef jerky when he heard Jodie’s scathing comment and saw Jess hesitate as she walked, her head dropping and her shoulders slumping. Sarah and Jodie rounded the RV on their random path and as Daryl looked down at them, his eyes fell on a cup of water set down on the roof of the RV, near to the edge. The temptation proved too great to ignore. Dale must have left it there. Convenient. He kicked the cup, sending water flying over the edge and onto the heads of the two girls below.

“Hey! Watch it, Redneck!” Sarah shrieked as she flicked her hands out, ridding herself of any water droplets. Jodie merely stood there and seethed, her jaw clamped shut and her eyes narrowed up at Daryl. Her sweater was splattered with a dark and no doubt, cold stain.

“Sorry” He smirked.

Rudely awoken by a cooking pot being thrown against the side of her tent just before sunrise, Jess startled and considered herself lucky the foreign object that had collided with the canvas had missed her head by inches. She crawled out of her sleeping bag and poked her head out of the zipper to the sounds of Merle and T-dog shouting obscenities to each other and brawling in the middle of the clearing. Curse words were yelled and a plethora of racist remarks left Merle’s mouth as he swung another punch in T-dogs direction. Jess winced at the sound of some of his comments and thought herself grateful she’d been brought up in an accepting and open-minded family and didn’t have to endure the seething hatred Merle seemed to feel every time he set eyes on someone that didn’t share his skin color.

The two men wrestled on the ground, dust kicking up and clouding their air as more and more people filtered out from their tents to observe the spectacle. Jess could hear the moment T-dog’s fist collided with Merles face, a kind of sickening thud followed by a loud grunt and a roar as Merle launched himself up and ran at his assailant. Bowls and utensils flew through the air as they thundered through a nearby table and took out the peg of a tent in the process. The shelter sagged and Jess felt a stab of panic as they neared her. She stepped back in an attempt to put some space between her and the fight as Daryl shot out of nowhere and drove himself between them, taking a hard right hook from Merle that made Jess jump with the loud crack that it made. But Daryl simply emitted a loud grunt and shook it off and she suspected that this was far from the first time he’d been punched in the face.

“Back up! C’mon! Back up, Man!” He instructed, hovering in front of his brother with his hands on his chest. Shane arrived seconds later, just in time to catch T-Dog and pull his hands behind his back in true cop style. Jess raised an eyebrow.

So much drama. She thought.

“Leave it. Just leave it. What the hell is wrong with you?!” Daryl was now hissing at Merle, who was desperately trying to skirt around him. But wherever Merle was, Daryl was firmly in front of him. “Let it go, Merle.”

She bit her lip as she witnessed Daryl manage to de-escalate his brothers rage and she knew that no one else in the entire group would have been able to handle him in quite the same way. His leather vest flapped at his sides in response to him shifting all of his weight into his muscular arms in order to hold his brother still. With one leg placed in front of the other, he leaned forwards, a stable grip on each of Merle’s shoulders. Shane was busy dragging T-dog off and whispering in his ear when Glenn’s voice startled her, snapping her away from an image that had suddenly become a little easier to look at.

“You alright?” He asked. If he’d been there the entire time, she had no idea after having completely missed his presence. “Thought you might have gotten hit in your tent.”

“It just missed my head.” Jess replied with a small smile. “Just.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah. Just glad I wasn’t up and sitting by the fire.” She expressed.

“You and me both. Those two have been gunning for one another for days now.” He told her.

She responded with a thin smile and turned her head back to where Daryl was now shoving Merle towards them. As they passed her tent, Daryl’s eyes managed to meet hers. He looked furious, unsettled. Uncomfortable. Taking it as her cue to make herself scarce, she climbed back into her tent.

It was almost a ritual now, everyone sat down to eat at the same time, like a giant, dysfunctional family. As far as altercations were concerned, everything was usually forgotten about in time for dinner, food being on the top of everyone’s list of priorities. It wasn’t surprising to Jess to see Merle and T-Dog sat in the same vicinity after such a violent fight, both of them seeming content enough with devouring their food than having any more fights. Merle had situated himself slightly further back than everyone else and made a few un-classy remarks under his breath that had so far been ignored by everyone. Jess heard every word but pretended she didn’t as she finished up her meal and made her way back to the cooking pot. Spooning the rest of the stew into a bowl, she dunked a plastic spoon into it and set off to find Daryl, who was the only one absent from the dinnertime ritual.

Sitting far away from the group, on a fallen tree on the edge of the woods, Daryl could hear both Jodie and Sarah making fun of Jess as she passed. Anger simmered in his chest and he grit his teeth at the sound of their incessant, immature and annoying giggling.  

“Here”

Jess’s voice cut through his thoughts and he peered up at her with suspicion. He threw the piece of bark he was picking at on the floor in front of him and locked his gaze on her.  

“You haven’t eaten. Your brother has. So, I took this before he noticed there was seconds.”

“Why?” He grunts.

She licked her lips and exhaled, her shoulders sagging.

“Saved us all from getting caught in the middle of a pretty nasty fight earlier.”

A grunt was all she received in response. Expecting him to react in any other way would have been futile, it was written all over his face that he was not in the mood to socialize.

“How’s your face?” She asked.

His right eye was beginning to swell and she knew that by morning it would be fully blackened. She wished she had a bag of frozen peas or an ice pack to offer, but figured it would only be met with a snappy remark or shrugged off anyway. But Jess wasn’t one to give up easily on something she believed in and in that moment, she believed that Daryl could use a distraction from his bad mood. Shoving away her doubts and shyness, she kept her eyes trained on him.

“Had worse.” He mumbled.

“You should eat, here.” She offered him the bowl again, telling him in no uncertain terms that she was not about to give up. After a small huff, he looked back up at her, slowly dropping his vision to the steaming bowl of food before eventually taking it from her.  

“Thanks.” He grumbled, taking hold of the spoon and shoveling stew into his mouth without any regard for manners or decorum. Jess sat next to him and ripped up a handful of grass from the ground, gradually picking through the blades and discarding them in the breeze.

“Actually, it’s you that deserves the thanks. You hunted the food and then showed me how to skin it instead of just doing it yourself or showing me up in front of the others. So, thanks.”

“Ain’t nothin’.” He dismissed with his mouth full of food.

“Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Jessica.” She told him.

Why didn’t I just say ‘Jess’? No one calls me Jessica. What am I doing?!

“Jess. You can call me Jess.” She corrected.

He turned his head, quickly scanning her from head to toe and swallowing the contents of his mouth.

“Daryl.” He stated.

“S’nice to meet you. I mean, as nice it can be, What, with corpses wandering around trying to eat us. That’s not exactly nice. But, there’s nothing like an apocalypse to bring out the best in people. But then again I guess some people are just crappy by nature.” She rambled.

He stared at her for a moment before shoving more food into his mouth. He was animalistic, almost feral somehow and he had an aura of unpredictability that made Jess nervous. Like a lion that appeared tame and calm but just below the surface lurked a danger that she didn’t want to see.

Jess was by all accounts, a self-declared introvert that didn’t actively seek out social interaction and felt the need to withdraw from situations or people that sapped her energy. Daryl was obviously not like everyone else and she would have hazarded a guess at him also being introverted, which meant that they possibly had something in common. It was unheard of that she made a marked effort to talk to someone that appeared so outwardly hostile, but the end of the world had brought with it a new found attitude in Jess; Just try it. See what happens. It was a philosophy that had kept her alive so far.

“It’s cold tonight, huh? I mean, I have enough blankets and stuff but it still gets through. It’s like ever since the world went to shit the nights have gotten colder” She expressed.

He finished up his food and dropped the bowl on the ground between his bent knees.

“Ya always talk this much?” He asked.

She wasn’t expecting such a question and didn’t know if she should be offended or amused.

“Uh… yes? No? I’m not sure.”

And she wasn’t. Not anymore. Now everything had changed and apparently so had she. If someone had told her she’d be sat beside a violent redneck and attempting to make nice during the apocalypse, she’d have laughed in their face.

Remaining at his side for half an hour more, she’d refused to move partly out of defiance. She braided grass into patterns and watched Carl and Sophia play at the side of the group while Daryl smoked and sulked, about what, she wasn’t sure. But he hadn’t got up and left, nor did he ask her to leave and she took that a small success.

Since she was a child, Jess always poured her deepest thoughts and feelings into a journal. Each entry left her feeling like she’d been cleansed and was ready for whatever the next day held. Sometimes, if she wasn’t in the mood to write huge paragraphs, she’d write, poetry, haiku’s or draw simple pictures in biro. Even with everything else destroyed and gone, Jess still made sure her journal was not neglected.

That night, in her tent. She opened up the thick, black leather-bound book and began writing.

'Daryl intrigues me. He has a brother that made himself known to me way before Daryl did. In fact, Merle leered at me as I walked by and told me I had ‘more cushin’ for the pushin’.” He’s vulgar and rude. I’m pretty sure he’s a raging racist too from what I’ve seen. I’m not sure Daryl is like that although there is a possibility. He just seems quieter, more thoughtful somehow. He’s kind of cute. In a dangerous kind of way. He broke up a fight between Merle and T-dog today. I have no shame in admitting I was impressed by his courage, even if he did get punched in the eye. I took him some food and tried to talk to him but he now just thinks I talk too much. I don’t think I said too much to him though, he’s just super quiet. Or did I? Oh god. I don’t know.

I’m not sure about everybody else. Rick seems like a nice guy; he’s checked in on me a few times. Shane too, although he’s a little… odd. I think there’s something going on between him and Rick’s wife. I keep catching them whispering to each other. But I shouldn’t make such assumptions. I could be very wrong. I like Carol, she’s the safest person to be around and I think I trust her, when she’s not with Ed. I don’t like him one, little bit. He’s a bad egg. I can tell. Rick’s kid, Carl is pretty cool. He sees a lot more than people give him credit for and he’s smart. He reminds me of me when I was his age.

I’m making an effort to stay away from Sarah and Jodie. They don’t like me and I don’t like them. My fat offends them. Good. I hope it makes their empty heads explode. It seems that no matter what happens in the world, those types of girls are everywhere. Like a disease or a bad smell that won’t go away. When they’re around, I just feel like I’m back in high school and I wouldn’t go back to high school if I was paid.

I could be in worse places. I could be dead. But I can’t shake this overwhelming urge to just be alone. I know it’s not safe and I know it’s not wise. I thought maybe if I talked to someone, tried to gain a friend, it’d help. So, I’m trying with Daryl. Out of everyone, I think he and I might be similar. What am I even talking about? The world ended and here I am, worrying about my social anxiety.

I should sleep. I rarely sleep more than a couple hours at a time now. I can’t stand the nightmares anymore.'

NEXT CHAPTER

[incursionofthedamnedrpg]

Name: Astrid King Birthday: January 27th (25/28) Species: Hybrid Lookalike: Sophia Bush Availability: Taken

Personality

There isn’t a person alive who has met Astrid who hasn’t associated her with the term ‘free spirit.’ She typically hates being told what to do but she’s calm enough to know when to bow down and admit when someone else is right. For a hybrid, Astrid is incredibly kind and soft hearted, she can’t stand to see people suffer and would always do anything to help. The years haven’t been kind to her own heart and she lives with a lot of bottled in misery and pain. For the sake of appearances though you’ll nearly always see her with a bubbly smile on her face. Astrid is loyal above most things but she’s also quite a lost soul, though unless you really know her you wouldn’t guess as much.

Past

Born into the Appalachian Mountains Pack, Astrid had a sturdy upbringing with parents, her younger sister, Aila, and a pack of werewolves who were devoted to one another. They were a tight-knit group, always having each other’s backs through thick and thin, no matter what, no exceptions. Being a teenager separated from the real world was pretty easy, when she knew nothing about what she was missing. Her pack was secluded but not completely out of sync with the real world, she just didn’t care much for the big city lights. Astrid was a free, mischievous soul, always finding something to laugh about, or pulling pranks on her pack with her best friend, Mason. There wasn’t a dark bone in her body, she knew nothing of cruelty, until the day hunters captured her, her family, and a few beloved members of the pack. That day changed everything; her parents along with half her pack had been slaughtered. Her father had fallen at her own forced hand which quickly became something she would never recover from or forgive herself for.

In the following years, Astrid lead the remaining back the best she could, again, with the help of Mason. It was only when Hayley and Tyler showed up in the mountains, finally, it felt like a light had been lit. She watched the way Hayley and a few members of the pack guided him through his transitions. Tyler was half wolf, half vampire, and he had figured out a way to break his sire bond to the one who created him. In Astrid’s eyes, Tyler became the living embodiment of what she wanted to be… Powerful, more powerful than a wolf could ever be… Strong enough to fight, and win… Strong enough so she and her sister could live without fear. It was a long time after Tyler left, that Astrid left too, in search of his maker, Klaus Mikaelson. She had heard all the stories, but they didn’t matter to her. If she had to do as he requested, it felt like a small price to pay in return for her little sisters’ safety. It took months for her and Mason to track him down, and when they did, they were almost like a fish out of water on the hybrids doorstep. Though, she kept it short, sweet and straight to the point… Telling Klaus they wanted to be hybrid’s and would follow his lead, if he gave her an extra dose of human doppelganger blood so she could turn her sister also.

It seemed to happen so fast, and Astrid was struggling majorly with her bloodlust, but she forced herself to control it, so she could return to the pack and collect her sister. Though, when she told Aila what she had done, and what she wanted her to turn into, in order to be safer, she did not expect a refusal. Aila didn’t want to be a hybrid, and she did not want to leave the pack, which ultimately, left Astrid heartbroken. She stayed to break her sire bond and tried over the weeks to convince Aila to change her mind, but it was no good. Aila didn’t turn, and the new hybrids knew they couldn’t stay in the mountains with their need for blood and so they returned to Klaus without her. Laying her cards on the table, she gave back the doppelganger blood and told him they had broken the sire bond. But, that it was because they wanted to be loyal out of their own free will, rather than being forced, and she asked for a chance to prove it.

Swept up in a world she had never known, adjusting was difficult and only made easier because she had Mason by her side. When Hope Mikaelson came along Astrid took it upon herself to be more involved, if only to try and protect the innocent from the cruel things her father was capable of. Astrid would fight anyone and everyone to the death if it meant protecting Hope; much like she would do for all her friends and family. Speaking of, Aila came back into her life and then Adrian, her half brother and his daughter Piper also found their way to the small town. Astrid was happy to have her family around her but it wasn’t until Alice fell into her life that she realised something she’d been denying ever since she became a hybrid. She’d made a huge mistake. Having power hadn’t taken away her fear like she hoped and nor had it ensured her ability to stop those she loves from being hurt or killed. She hated being a hybrid and she knew there was also no way she could ever admit it. Earlier this year (2019) with the help of a hunter she’d fallen hopelessly in love with; the pair rescued Alice from some vile vampire creatures who had forced the young child to commit traumatic crimes. Ever since, Astrid has been working hard on building a better life for the young girl and it’s easy to say that she’s also one of the few reasons she’s still gripping onto her sanity. The hunter died unexpectedly and ever since, Astrid has been crumbling more than ever, though she’s mostly hiding it well.

Present

Astrid owns the local dog shelter and works there most days when she’s not helping out her friends or spending time with Alice. Even though her heart is broken she’s trying her best to keep her head up, if only for the sake of the child. Distractions come easy and she finds that a big help to stop her mind going down a miserable, reckless path. Astrid is focusing on her work and her family though lately, she has been spending more time by herself because pretending to be okay is absolutely exhausting. Somehow, she still has hope for the future. It couldn’t possibly hurt this much forever, right?

Connections

Aila King

Sister. Since they reconnected the two have had way more downs than ups and though there is no more secrets between them, their relationship still suffers greatly. They’re not close but one day Astrid hopes that will be different. That’s if Aila ever decides to return to Mystic Falls after she packed up and left everything and everyone behind.

Klaus and the Mikaelsons

Despite the broken sire bond, Astrid has proved her loyalty to Klaus and much to her peace of mind, she’s never been asked to do anything she wasn’t ok with. Astrid figures that Klaus knows it would be pointless asking her to hurt or kill someone, she was much better suited to look after Hope.

Mason Duval

Oldest and best friend. Mason has been her rock ever since he joined her pack when they were children. They shared everything together and without him, Astrid knew without a doubt she wouldn’t be standing here today. He’s pretty much the only one who knows her inside and out, every thought, every secret, she knows he would always protect as she would him.

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

The Feast of the Seven Fishes-New MC Fanfic

This is just something I threw together for Christmas in my continuing effort to show how Sharon and Andy spent their first year of marriage together. I got the inspiration from Tony who talked about this Sicilian tradition in an interview and how he hoped to go back to his roots and host one in the future. Can totally see Andy embracing the whole family this way.

You can read here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13157919/1/The-Feast-of-the-Seven-Fishes or here https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160020 or here:

Sharon gazed up at the 15 foot Douglas fir placed in the corner of their living room. It was so tall that her 6 foot 1-inch husband had struggled to get the angel straight, even on a ladder. It had been a long time since she’d had a live tree, let alone one this big. A high ceiling was one of the many attributes of their new home.  The tree was beautiful, filled with ornaments from their pasts and new ones they had purchased together—including the special stained glass shamrock ornament reading “Ireland 2018” that they had purchased on their honeymoon in Ireland.

Last year at this time, she was still recovering from the mild bout of cardiomyopathy that had thankfully turned out to be more of an annoyance than anything else. She’d had to take some time off to allow the virus to run its course and they’d decided to put off their search for a new home until she was feeling stronger. Now, they had this beautiful Spanish Revival, with its high exposed wood beam ceilings, wrought iron chandeliers and the extra spare rooms that would house some of the family members who would be descending on their home tonight. Boughs of holly were draped along the stone fireplace mantle where their stockings were lined up in a row. Live wreaths hung on the walls, filling the air with the scent of balsam pine. Gorgeous full poinsettias in red and white graced the coffee table, the end tables and the top of Sharon’s piano—her housewarming gift from Andy. A strategic sprig of mistletoe dangled in the archway leading from the hall into the living room, a spot where Andy caught her at every opportunity.

She could hear him now in the kitchen, just through another graceful archway off the living room. He was in his glory, preparing for the “Feast of the Seven Fishes” a seven-course traditional Sicilian Christmas Eve meal. It was something he remembered fondly from his childhood and for as long as she had known him; he had talked about wanting to do this for their family. However, until they bought this new larger home, it hadn’t been feasible. The condo wasn’t large enough for both their extended families. This house was.

She made her way into the kitchen, watching Andy slapping together crab and salmon cakes while humming along to “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” with Andy Williams. She ran her hand along his shoulders as she made her way to the stove, earning that pure Andy smile that always made her feel like she was the best thing in his world. She lifted the cover on the vat of bubbling New England clam chowder, stuck a spoon in, and took a taste. The chowder was her contribution, her grandmother’s recipe that always transported her back to summers on Nantucket.

Seven dishes was a lot of food so they were doing as much prep work as possible so all they would have to do tonight was heat everything up. They would start with bacon wrapped scallops along with traditional antipasto for hors-d'oeuvres, and then they would move into the meal. The chowder, followed by the crab and salmon cake appetizers, then a coconut shrimp salad with orange marmalade sauce, lobster rolls made with fresh Maine lobster purchased from ‘Cape Seafood and Provisions’ in West Hollywood, garlicky shrimp scampi, and baked flounder au gratin made with flounder  that Andy and Ricky caught on a fishing trip out to Catalina. Ricky and his girlfriend Tess had flown in a couple days ago and would be staying with them in one of the guest rooms. Emily was due to arrive any minute with her O’Dwyer grandparents, and Andy’s mother and his sisters Antonella, Maura, Peggy, and Gina, along with Peggy and Gina’s husbands and Gina’s daughter Sophia had settled in at a local B&B run by a friend of Sharon’s from her book club. Sharon’s sister Christine, her brother in law Ed and her nieces Jillian and Bridget were also staying at the B&B.

**********

It was Christmas Eve, the food was prepared and Sharon’s sense of occasion had the house looking like something out of a magazine spread. A fire burned in the hearth, white lights twinkled on the large Christmas tree and ran along the built-in bookshelves that flanked the fireplace. Christmas music played softly on the Bose surround sound speakers that Ricky had helped them set up with they’d first moved in. The families mingled, some carrying wine glasses, others cut glass miniature mugs of eggnog doctored up with a little vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and nutmeg. A bottle of spiced rum sat next to the punch bowl for those who wanted a little extra zip in their nog.

Andy stood leaning against the fireplace sipping his non-spiked eggnog, listening to Celine Dion sing about another year having gone by. He had been talking with Nicole and Dean but as they moved on to get some cheese and crackers for the boys he took a moment to survey the room with pleasure. All the O’Dwyers, Raydors, and Flynn’s were under one roof. His roof. Their roof. His eyes fell on Sharon across the room near the piano. She was in a conversation with her mother, his mother, and his sister Antonella. She had changed into a red cashmere sweater dress that gently skimmed over her curves along with knee-high black suede boots. Sexy and elegant. That was his wife. As if she felt his gaze on her, she turned and caught his eyes, flashing him a broad beaming smile that lit her whole face and made him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. When Sharon smiled at him like that, he felt like he could walk on water.

Later that night when they returned from midnight mass at St. Joseph’s and she had changed into a long white silk nightgown, he into pajama bottoms and t-shirt, he slid his iPod into the dock and clicked on one of her favorites, Michael Buble.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand. She took it and stepped into his arms, resting her head on his broad chest, swaying gently to “I’ll be Home for Christmas” thinking that Buble could even make that holiday favorite sound sexy.

“We are home, aren’t we?” she said, nuzzling into his chest. God how she loved this house near the sea.

“We are,” he agreed, rubbing his cheek against her soft fragrant hair. “But it’s more than this house. It’s you, Sharon. You’re my home. You always have been.”

She pulled back, hearing the catch in his voice. When she saw the sheen of tears displayed in his dark eyes by the moonlight shining through the French doors, she cupped a hand over his cheek. She knew he was thinking about last year at this time. “And you’re my home. As long as we’re together nothing else matters.”

“No, it doesn’t. And as far as Christmas goes, I’ve already been given the best gift ever. I‘ll never have to ask for anything else.”

She cocked her head with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“You. Here with me, healthy and well. When you were sick last year, I made a few deals with God. One of those was that I’d never ask for anything else as long as he made you well again. He kept up His end of the bargain and there’s nothing else I want or need that can ever compare to having you by my side. Forever.

Sharon felt the tear slide down her cheek and then his thumb wiping it away. “How’d I ever get so lucky to have a man like you in my life?”

“Me? I dunno. Provenza said I was the booby prize.”

Sharon gave a surprised little snort laugh. No one could make her laugh through her tears like Andy. “You’re not the booby prize,” she said. “You’re the blue ribbon all the way.  

******

Christmas morning brought more good news for the family when Dean and Nicole showed up with Tyler and Scottie who were wearing reindeer t-shirts that read “Oh Deer, I’m going to be a big brother” and the announcement that she was due in June. The entire family erupted with excitement, but none more so than Andy and Sharon who were over the moon at the idea of another grandchild.

Once the gifts were unwrapped, the paper balled up in boxes to be sent to recycling, everyone moved into the dining room for a large brunch. Casseroles, ham and cheese, sausage and hash browns, and French toast. Quiche, both veggie and bacon and Gruyere, and a variety of Danish’s, cinnamon rolls, croissants, muffins, coffee cake, and bagels were spread out on the table. It was sunny and in the mid-’60s so Sharon left the French doors open to the patio. Some ate outside under the pergola on the large farmer’s table or perched on the comfortable chairs Andy had placed in a cozy circle around the outdoor Chiminea, while others ate inside in the dining room or on the island bar in the kitchen.  

While they ate Ricky and Tess announced that they were moving in together and would be looking for a condo in San Diego or its surroundings. Tess had been working on her Master's degree in Psychology with a focus on refugee mental health and human rights at Berkeley and had interned with different programs helping refugee children and their families in the Bay area. Now with her Master’s completed, she had been offered a job working with traumatized children experiencing posttraumatic stress having come from refugee situations, many who had been tortured, abused or traumatized by watching family members killed in front of them. She would be working with the children utilizing Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques. It was an amazing opportunity and she had to take it, but it meant moving over 7 hours away from Ricky and that was something they both deemed unacceptable. This time it was Ricky who would make the sacrifice. He was lucky. With his computer savvy he could pretty much find a job anywhere in the world, and in many cases, name his price. So, moving had not been a difficult decision. In fact, he informed them that he already had a few interviews lined up in cybersecurity.

Sharon was thrilled that her son was in a serious relationship with a young woman she really liked and that Ricky had been willing to make sacrifices to make the relationship work. Even better, he was now going to be an easily drivable distance away. Less than two hours! He and Andy had already been talking about fishing trips and Dodger games.

A little later while everyone was relaxing inside and they were burning cardboard in the Chiminea, Andy slipped an arm around Sharon‘s waist. “Looks like 2019 is going to be another great year for us.”

“Yes, it does.” She rested her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “A new baby, Ricky getting serious with Tess and moving closer to home and our first full year in our new house.”

Andy looked inside through the French doors, his eyes falling on Emily who was laughing with his sister Gina. “Now if we can just get our girl closer to home, life would be perfect.”

Our girl. God how she loved him.

[protectorsofthewood]

The Ghost Girl Blog - Episode 11

WHEN WOULD BE A BETTER TIME THAN NOW TO BEGIN?

After Glenda, Tiny, and Lucy had departed, Abby knocked on the side door of the church to request the use of Reverend Tuck’s phone. She had not spoken to her parents for weeks, and felt sure they had seen her on TV News and were afraid and worried. But the number rang fifteen times with no answer. Coming back to the cottage in the dim light Abby was startled by a dark shape at the door. In a few seconds she recognized the reassuring silhouette of Geraldine. “Hello, dear,” said Geraldine softly. “I’m glad to catch you. I have presents from your friends, and I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.” As they entered Abby asked if she could stay for a few minutes. “Of course, I’d be happy to. And here’s part of a smoked salmon, a loaf of Penny’s bread, and another note for you!” She set the bag on the countertop. “Now, tell me about your day? How are you feeling?” Geraldine took a seat, and looked carefully at Abby across the table. “There’s a couple of things…." Abby said. "Remember you said this morning that if I need to talk to let you know? Well, I could really use your help now.” “Go right ahead, dear, this is a good moment for me. I don’t have to be anywhere.” “I was behind the door listening at the service this morning, and I heard you read from the Bible, and heard Reverend Tuck’s sermon, and I was… well, both happy and frightened. I mean, I admire your courage, but wasn’t it all a bit provocative for such a day? I mean, on my first day here at the church, for you and Tuck to proclaim the daughter of God, and for Tuck to mention the burning of the old Hidden Valley houses with some of my ancestors in them… and to invite Pastor Banks from Rivergate… well, it kind of brings the long war out in the open, doesn’t it?” Geraldine nodded. “I appreciate your confiding in me,” she said. “You see, I never knew until this moment that you had ancestors living in Hidden Valley in the early 1940s. That was back before I was born. But I did know that the population of Hidden Valley fled to Rivergate at that time.” “But… how did you know that?” “I’ve been there often in the course of my work, making home visits to families with children recovering from operations and illnesses.” Geraldine paused and caught Abby’s eye. “You may not remember, but you were one of them.” Tears came to Abby’s eyes. “I’ve never forgotten! And I know I never thanked you. It’s just hard to mention it…” “I understand, dear.” Geraldine held her hand. “You thanked me with your eyes. You communicated more than you know.” They were silent for a moment. Geraldine continued, saying, “Your parents never discussed their history or family of origin with me, and I never asked. But I’ve been well-aware that most of the Rivergate people are at least partly descended from the original inhabitants of Hidden Valley. It was their land, as was the entire Half Moon Valley once upon a time. The people from Hidden Valley stayed far longer in their ancestral home than most of the Half Moon People. But after that lunatic mob from Middletown burned the houses and barns – a whole small town, really – most of the people fled to Rivergate, where their relatives already lived.” “People don’t talk about this,” muttered Abby.  “Oh yes they do, as you well know.” “But I have good reason to be afraid,” cried Abby. “Look what happened to my father’s parents and to so many others! We moved off to Ridgewood to hide from all this, but it won’t stay hidden! And now here I am in the middle of it, stirring up the town to violence.” “Now now! Don’t take that all on yourself," Geraldine replied. "You didn’t start the violence. Even when you were young, people could see a spiritual quality about you. You used to have a nickname, do you remember?” “You mean ‘the Ghost Girl’? That was just to tease me. I was sick and pale and thin as a ghost. People thought I was half-dead already.” “Ghost is another name for spirit. You have a glow about you, and a particular destiny is pulling you along.” Abby burst into tears. “I can’t bear to have people know all this.”

Geraldine waited for Abby to recover, and then began again: “So, can you see now that post-traumatic stress is not just my excuse to keep people from bothering you? It goes way, way back. The people of Rivergate suffer as a group. And the mob of murderers from Middletown suffer from it even more, but in a different way. Their consciences eat them up. The stain of guilt is upon them, even if it’s the guilt of their ancestors. And I think you’re aware that most of humanity suffers from this, all over the world. In a frenzy we are destroying the very world we live in. We’re in the process of destroying ourselves.” “I know, I know,” Abby murmured, her head in her hands. “That is why Reverend Tuck and I are going public with the Sophia scriptures you heard this morning. We feel that a call is going out to all people to change, to live differently, to love the earth and save this world for their children and the life to come. When would be a better time than now to begin?”