#threads / ashlee williams

[grcveyacd]

“ i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong — “ // @halliwellauto

[grcveyacd]

“ wouldn’t surprise me if he did chase a squirrel onto your property, they always seem to make him crazier than normal. “ she still didn’t understand why her father had decided to get a big dog that was obsessed with getting out and chasing the wildlife around the area. she figured that he would’ve wanted a small lap dog that would just chase it’s tail and nothing else. it would’ve made her life a hell of a lot easier when she had to watch him. “ i appreciate you cleaning him up. “ she looked up towards the hound, eyes rolling just a touch when she noticed how much he seemed to enjoy the bath. “ you really didn’t have to do that. “ she was sure her father would’ve appreciated it as well. “ i’m ashlee — it’s a pleasure to meet you tom. “ she gave him a small smile before she folded her arms across her chest, unsure if it was okay if she came up onto his porch or not. he may have had her fathers dog in the tub but, this was still his property and she didn’t want to impose. “ i’m staying with my father just a few blocks away. i would say that it’s within walking distance but, i always forget how spread out everything is around here. “

the woman seemed pretty frustrated when she approached his house. he'd probably feel the same if any of his dogs escaped the house and he couldn't find them for hours, so he couldn't blame her. he leaned down for a cup and scooped up some water from the metal tub, then pouring down the dog's back. "oh no, he was perfectly fine, if not skittish. sorry, he was covered in mud when i spotted him over by the tree line. he might've chased a rabbit or a squirrel through my property, i only knew he was out here because my own dogs started going crazy." it was another reason why he was washing the dog on the porch instead of inside in the bathroom, the other canines wouldn't take too kindly to a new dog in the mix without being properly introduced. he hadn't intended on keeping the dog and adding him to the pack unless he couldn't find the owner—luckily, the owner found him. "i'm tom, by the way. do you live close by?"

[unconventional-weapons]

The Mahlendorf Family Tree

Okay, so any time a hunter clan gets mentioned in any of my threads, 99.9% of the time it’s the Mahlendorf’s.

They are headed up by Aleister, who is a sadistic piece of shit that takes great pleasure in making people suffer, whether they are non-human or not. He’s also been around much longer than he should have (he’s been actively hunting since 1907), as he’s been using magic to prolong his life so he can retain an iron grip on controlling the clan.

Below is the family tree starting from Aleister and his siblings downward.

Putting this under a cut because it is a ridiculously long post, and it’s not even the complete family tree because I haven’t includes any of the other branches that cross into other clans, etc.

Note: 

Muses belonging to @ofviolentdeath​ marked with *

Greyed out names are deceased.

Aleister and Mercedes (1st Wife - Deceased)

Children:

Pryce* - Defected after being bitten by a wolf, changed name to Andy Williams

Anastazia - Defected from the clan after falling in love with Issac Masters

Freya - Not Aleister’s biological child - Mercedes had an affair with a witch named Michael Clearwater

Grandchildren:

Quinn Masters - Werewolf

Aleister and Sandrine (2nd Wife -Deceased)

Children:

Ezekiel “Zeke” - Defected

Titus - Actively Hunting

Elodie - Deceased

Elodie’s Offspring

Children:

Emerson - Defected after being bitten by a wolf

Grandchildren:

Nico Taylor-Morrow - Werewolf/Witch Hybrid

Aleister and Analiese (3rd Wife - Alive)

Children:

Everett - Newly Initiated

Jaelyn - Newly Initiated

Aleister and Daphne (Victim)

Children:

Vaughn Masters - Werewolf

Atticus - Eldest brother after Aleister - Actively Hunting

Children:

Aracely - Newly Initiated

Tripp - In Training

Coltrane* - 2nd Eldest brother - Actively Hunting

Children:

William* - Location/Life Status Unknown to the clan

Dakota* - Location/Life Status Unknown to the clan

Ryland* - Actively Hunting/Defected (Verse Dependent)

Veronica - Eldest Sister - Actively Hunting: Interrogation Specialist

Children:

Easton - Actively Hunting

Nolan - Actively Hunting, though is considering defecting

Cyrus - 3rd Eldest brother - Actively Hunting

Children:

Keaton - Actively Hunting

Regan - In Training

Fallon - 2nd Eldest Sister - Actively Hunting

Children:

Cheyenne - Actively Hunting

Ashlee - Deceased

Beau - Actively Hunting

Merritt - Youngest Sister - Actively Hunting

Children:

Miya - Newly Initiated

Shyla - Actively Hunting

Holden - Youngest Brother - Half-Sibling - Retired

Children:

Desmond “Dessi” - Trained, never initiated

Maximillian “Max” Trained, never initiated

[tabloidtoc]

Life & Style, February 25

Cover: George Clooney tells Amal that it’s over

Page 2: Photo Flash -- Cardi B in Bazaar 

Page 4: Contents

Page 6: Top 10 Winter White Looks -- Laura Harrier, Cara Santana, Natalie Portman, Regina King, Amy Adams 

Page 7: Gemma Chan, Kate Beckinsale, Saoirse Ronan, Danai Gurira, Nicole Kidman 

Page 8: Twinning -- Judith Light vs. Ashlee Simpson 

Page 12: Sex, drugs and trust issues -- inside Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin’s troubled marraige 

Page 13: Teresa Giudice and Lisa Rinna and Sarah Jessica Parker battle to be godmother to Andy Cohen’s newborn son, Throwback -- Wilmer Valderrama, Biggest Spenders of the Week -- Jennifer Garner, Kylie Jenner, Chris Pratt, Hailey Baldwin, Emily Ratajkowski 

Page 14: NeNe Leakes at war with Lisa Vanderpump, Priyanka Chopra’s nonstop partying, Whose Sports Car Is It? Jamie Foxx, Justin Bieber, Caitlyn Jenner, Kim Kardashian, Tyga, Drake 

Page 16: Kristin Cavallari is reality TV’s queen of mean 

Page 17: The Bachelor’s Demi Burnett not looking for love but wants to be on Bachelor in Paradise, Lea Michele’s laid-back bachelorette party in Hawaii included Emma Roberts and Jamie-Lynn Sigler and JoAnna Garcia Swisher, VIP Style -- Cardi B watched Travis Scott on stage, The Black Eyed Peas, Christina Applegate, Dwayne Wade and Gabrielle Union, Michelle Williams, Eva Longoria, Elizabeth Chambers, Aly Raisman 

Page 18: The Week in Photos -- The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part premiere with Elizabeth Banks, Tiffany Haddish, Chris Pratt, Alison Brie and Will Arnett 

Page 19: Miley Cyrus, Kate Middleton with a dog 

Page 20: Pink and her husband Carey Hart and kids with her when she gets a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Alex Rodriguez, Andy Cohen 

Page 22: Gigi Hadid, Ashton Kutcher and son Dimitri, Busy Philipps 

Page 24: Ellie Kemper, Patrick Schwarzenegger, Brie Larson and Tracee Ellis Ross 

Page 26: Kiss Cam -- Kendall Jenner and niece Stormi, Glenn Close and dog Sir Pippin on Beanfield, Bryce Dallas Howard as Harvard’s Hasty Pudding Woman of the Year 

Page 28: Stars Behaving Badly -- Spencer Pratt and Keith Lemon, Khloe Kardashian, Celine Dion and Pepe Munoz 

Page 29: Bill Murray and Nick Offerman and David Ross 

Page 30: Say What?! Michelle Williams on social media, Zoe Kravitz on Reese Witherspoon, Christina Aguilera on Pink, Victoria Beckham on the Spice Girls, Rebel Wilson on dating books 

Page 32: Julia Roberts sweet surprise for husband Danny Moder -- an Alaskan getaway for his 50th birthday 

Page 33: 47-year-old Denise Richards and new husband Aaron Phypers are talking about having a baby, Ricki Lake’s risky romance with One Golden Thread founder Jeff Scult, Romance Report Card -- Jason Aldean, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kit Harington 

Page 34: Kim Kardashian tells Kanye West to stop spending money, Chanel Iman and Sterling Shepard are discussing another baby, Alexis Bellino dating a married man 

Page 35: Ariana Grande couldn’t care less that former fiance Pete Davidson is hooking up with Kate Beckinsale, Can You Believe They Dated? Ryan Reynolds and Kristen Johnston in 1999 

Page 36: Cover Story -- mismatched George and Amal Clooney seem headed for a devastating split 

Page 40: Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle battle over the royal supernanny 

Page 42: Why Miranda Lambert has been laying low in recent months 

Page 44: Jennifer Lawrence engaged 

Page 46: Stars who were teachers -- Hugh Jackman, Jon Hamm -- Ellie Kemper was his student 

Page 47: Sheryl Crow, Sylvester Stallone, Sting 

Page 48: Who Lives Here? Bruce Willis 

Page 50: Entertainment 

Page 51: Star Review -- Jane Krakowski, As Seen On-Screen -- the silver pendant Adrienne Bankert wore on GMA is Peggy Li’s Mother of Pearl and Agate Drop Necklace 

Page 52: Style -- Puffy Sleeves -- Nina Dobrev, Dua Lipa

Page 53: Victoria Justice, Alison Brie 

Page 54: Emily Blunt’s stylish start to the new year 

Page 56: Beauty -- Switching Up Your Hair -- Chrissy Teigen, Amanda Seyfried 

Page 57: Lucy Boynton, Priyanka Chopra 

Page 58: Style Crush -- Hilary Duff 

Page 60: How She Got That Body -- Chanel Iman 

Page 62: The Fabulous Life of Priyanka Chopra 

Page 64: Diva or Down-to-Earth? Rachel Bilson, Gal Gadot, Nicky Hilton 

Page 66: Social Stars Posts of the Week -- Liv Tyler, Jaimie Alexander, Jason Biggs, Kaley Cuoco 

Page 67: Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Kristofer Hivju, Danica Patrick and Aaron Rodgers, Margot Robbie, Hilaria Baldwin and 3 crying kids 

Page 68: Horoscope -- Pisces Rihanna, They’re Not Together But They Should Be -- Sagittarius Rita Ora and Pisces Trevor Noah 

Page 70: Made Ya Look -- Taboo and apl.de.ap of The Black Eyed Peas 

Page 72: What I’m Into -- Ellie Kemper 

[neonbitemarks]

The Mahlendorf Family Tree

Okay, so any time a hunter clan gets mentioned in any of my threads, 99.9% of the time it’s the Mahlendorf’s.

They are headed up by Aleister, who is a sadistic piece of shit that takes great pleasure in making people suffer, whether they are non-human or not. He’s also been around much longer than he should have (he’s been actively hunting since 1907), as he’s been using magic to prolong his life so he can retain an iron grip on controlling the clan.

Below is the family tree starting from Aleister and his siblings downward.

Putting this under a cut because it is a ridiculously long post, and it’s not even the complete family tree because I haven’t includes any of the other branches that cross into other clans, etc.

Note: 

Muses belonging to @ofviolentdeath​ marked with *

Greyed out names are deceased.

Aleister and Mercedes (1st Wife - Deceased)

Children:

Pryce* - Defected after being bitten by a wolf, changed name to Andy Williams

Anastazia - Defected from the clan after falling in love with Issac Masters

Freya - Not Aleister’s biological child - Mercedes had an affair with a witch named Michael Clearwater

Grandchildren:

Quinn Masters - Werewolf

Aleister and Sandrine (2nd Wife -Deceased)

Children:

Ezekiel “Zeke” - Defected

Titus - Actively Hunting

Elodie - Deceased

Elodie’s Offspring

Children:

Emerson - Defected after being bitten by a wolf

Grandchildren:

Nico Taylor-Morrow - Werewolf/Witch Hybrid

Aleister and Analiese (3rd Wife - Alive)

Children:

Everett - Newly Initiated

Jaelyn - Newly Initiated

Aleister and Daphne (Victim)

Children:

Vaughn Masters - Werewolf

Atticus - Eldest brother after Aleister - Actively Hunting

Children:

Aracely - Newly Initiated

Tripp - In Training

Coltrane* - 2nd Eldest brother - Actively Hunting

Children:

William* - Location/Life Status Unknown to the clan

Dakota* - Location/Life Status Unknown to the clan

Ryland* - Actively Hunting/Defected (Verse Dependent)

Veronica - Eldest Sister - Actively Hunting: Interrogation Specialist

Children:

Easton - Actively Hunting

Nolan - Actively Hunting, though is considering defecting

Cyrus - 3rd Eldest brother - Actively Hunting

Children:

Keaton - Actively Hunting

Regan - In Training

Fallon - 2nd Eldest Sister - Actively Hunting

Children:

Cheyenne - Actively Hunting

Ashlee - Deceased

Beau - Actively Hunting

Merritt - Youngest Sister - Actively Hunting

Children:

Miya - Newly Initiated

Shyla - Actively Hunting

Holden - Youngest Brother - Half-Sibling - Retired

Children:

Desmond “Dessi” - Trained, never initiated

Maximillian “Max” Trained, never initiated

[grcveyacd]

“ something tells me you’ll live. “ she really couldn’t figure out for the life of her why she had agreed to let katherine stay with her for a little while. she should’ve known just by what she had seen at the bar that she was going to be a handful. she should’ve listened to her instinct and made her stay at matt’s or someone else who had a bigger place. but, she kind of got the feeling that everyone else had already told her no. “ i’ve got plenty of blankets and pillows you can use to help cushion it a bit. “ she offered, going over to the stack of extra blankets in the corner of the room to pull out some sheets, and a large comforter. “ trust me, you’ll back will be fine. just take a couple pain relievers and you’ll be good as new. “ 

You think without the ability to compel people Katherine would try just a LITTLE harder to be nice so she didn't get kicked out.... unfortunately now that she's human she feels vulnerable... so of course she's over compensating. Like an animal puffing up really big to appear more threatening than they really are. She's just trying to protect herself.

The former vampire stepped aside as the other woman approached, pout in full swing on her disgruntled little features.

The mattress looked like it was maybe two? three? Four inches thick at BEST and at that point she might as well be on a bed of straw.

Rolling her eyes at the fake smile Katherine sat on the bed. It wasn't that bad but she was going to pretend like it was.

"I'm going to wake up unable to move from how stiff I'm going to be."

[austennerdita2533]

A/N: My contribution for Day 22 of A Gilmore Christmas is a Literati oneshot. Sending a big ‘ol HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely Emma, @alspancakeworld. Thanks for organizing this event and for allowing me to participate! xx (Check out all the other cool stuff in the link above.)

(A03) (FFnet)

Summary: It’s late, close to Christmas, and Rory and Jess find themselves alone strolling through a decor-decked Stars Hollow to share a moment where past and present feelings collide. (Post-AYITL but no pregnancy) (Holiday Angst and Feels)

Word count: 3.1k

It’s my first attempt at Literati fic. Happy reading! :)

xx Ashlee Bree

When All Sense Breaks Loose

This one will wreck him. Oh, yeah. This one promises calamity.

                                                  _

Jess hears it in the cracking first. He feels it in the thawing of his bones the moment he reaches out to catch the edge of a snowflake with his thumb and swipes it off her cheek, his thoughts splitting into chaos because ‘over…long over’ is what they’re supposed to be. And they were. They are.

But then she steps close enough to shoulder-bump him, her head tilted, her eyes shining up at him with a mixture of alcohol, gaiety, and anticipation as they head back to the house so they can drink coffee and gorge on some of Sookie’s gourmet sugar cookies; and soon, all of those unspoken words he swore he’d deleted years ago when they were still a couple of twenty-something kids up to their waists in missed chances, spill out into the margins of his mind in ink too permanent to miss. The words fall out all tangled together like carefully embedded prose to expose dusty questions that had apparently never settled like he’d intended.

(Or more like he’d damn-well hoped.)

                                                     _

He smells it in the crispness of the air second.

Clumsy as ever, Rory folds her fingers into the crook of his elbow in a clinging effort to keep herself steady after her foot slides backward on a slippery patch of sidewalk near Miss Patty’s dance studio. Her hands curl into the lapels of his jacket. They fly around his neck within seconds next, desperate for somewhere soft and sturdy to land, and his lungs betray him with one measly hitch of breath. Backstabbing bastard lungs, they are, too. Freezing at her touch like it’s the first time. Sending fresh trembles along his shoulders, then down the columns of his spine.  

“This feels like a scene straight out of While You Were Sleeping,” she laughs.

Her tone’s full of self-mockery and ridicule, but she doesn’t seem bothered by her impromptu ice skating or her near-toppling into his arms at all, which Jess finds curious.

“But as long as you don’t rip your pants up the ass,” she continues, “we should be okay the rest of the way. At least—well, would you say you’re more Blades of Glory or Wayne Gretzky?”

“Charlie Conway, probably.” When she stares at him blankly, he flicks her side with his index finger and says, “From the Mighty Ducks?”

“Oooh, lucky me! I mean, had you said Gordon Bombay, I’m afraid I’d have to contend with your weak and wobbling hockey knees,” Rory says in a way that denotes both her relief and her amusement.

“In that case, we’d both be screwed.”

“Right, so no ripped jeans or ice-kissed butts for you. Got it, mister.”  Just to be safe, however, she links her arm through his anyway. She leans against him for warmth or for support (or for who the hell knows what else), as they recommence their stroll through Stars Hollow.

They somehow manage to take the long and slow route home. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, so why should he? And even though Jess knows he shouldn’t, he breathes in the lavender soap of her skin and allows himself to remember how well she’s always fit against his side. How right she’s always felt. Like the home he’d never had with Liz…or with any other woman he’s dated since Rory.

He thinks of sleigh rides, of a stolen teenage kiss or two behind Gypsy’s Auto Repair; he thinks of quiet nights in, of cuddling and movie bingeing, of Indian chicken curry which stunk up the whole of his uncle’s apartment, of talking Faulkner, Hemingway, and Bukowski with little to no regard for time. He remembers how certain of her, and of them, he’d once been.

I know you. I know you better than anyone.

The reflection hurts. It chafes him worse than frostbite to know he’ll probably always be the one who understands her best.

But what does it matter? What good does it do to reflect on those chapped patches of his past? How does it help to contemplate his screwed-up life? Why wonder and wish? Why—why in hell should he waste any more time on unfulfilling idioms like ‘if?’

(Except he does.)

                                                          _

Jess sees it in the pine trees third, their boughs bent and threatening to break because they carry too much weight. They hold too many frozen dreams that’ll hit the ground soon but won’t melt. They’ll try, sure, but they’ll never seem to fade away despite the passing of countless springs. They can’t—it’d be too dry without their existence afterwards, too unburdening.

Because you didn’t say goodbye.

I deserve better than this.

You, me…you know we’re supposed to be together.

I knew, I knew it the first time I saw you.

How many years has it been, huh? Ten? Fifteen? Fifteen years he’s spent trying to thaw these thoughts inside of him, acting like she hasn’t creeped through his mind when his world grew too hollow or too full; and that's either too many to count on fingers, or too much time for him to try and pretend otherwise. It’s asinine to deceive himself. A waste of good lies.

I knew, I knew, I knew…

The ringing in his mind won’t stop.

It plays in the background like static because he still discerns that dangerous load of thoughts in his periphery—all of those old moments of theirs which promised continuity and evolution and ‘I love you’s’ which didn’t need saying; that hand of hers which never felt too heavy in his and would never be anything but a pleasure to hold—to thread his fingers through for no reason—to raise to his mouth so he could learn the paths of her palms, her wrists, her knuckles, all of her sweet, soft skin, with his lips over and over again—and he doesn’t want to let the perilousness of hope to overwhelm him. He doesn’t want to blink. He doesn’t want to close his eyes. Don’t think, don’t think! He doesn’t want to find himself blinded or paralyzed by dreams he’s no longer supposed to be dreaming.

But they can’t be stopped. They unravel and unwind. They…they keep on coming regardless of the iron walls he raises and reinforces inside his own head to ward against the intrusion.

It’s draining, this looped thinking.

He can’t win. He can’t break free. So why, he wonders, why the hell does he try?  It’s exhausting and pointless and awful and unbearable. His head is the cruelest place to be.

Yeah, it’s crueler than anything.

                                                          _

It’s a few hours past midnight now, and despite having closed out the only bar in town with scotch, candlelight, and conversation a good half hour ago, they still loiter beneath the snowcapped Christmas lights in front of Luke’s with nothing but snow and old memories for company. Rory’s resplendent in her double-breasted peacoat, her mouth clicking off new words and subjects as fast as fingers on a keyboard. There’s a bounce in her knees at the moment which he swears she reserves only for donut sightings, new book releases, Lorelai and coffee, so he’s at a loss when she drags him under the awning below where it says Williams Hardware and presses her face into the window like she’s investigating something. Or like she’s looking for someone’s dropped holiday crumbs.

The diner’s black inside, however; the sign flipped to show it’s closed. And it probably has been for some hours now. Undeterred, however, she turns around to flash him a knowing grin—a hint of intrigue dimpling the edges around her cracked lips, “Of all the java joints, in all the towns, it hangs from mine! Can you believe it?” she says with an exhilarated ‘eeee.’

“Believe what?”

“Look up.”

Jess inclines his head. He feasts his eyes on the object of interest which dangles above him like the universe’s next big test. (Or trick, depending on how this conversation ends.)

“Huh. That’s new,” he muses.

“It’s not only new, my friend, but legendary,” Rory says as her tongue slides cheekily across her lower teeth. “And I mean that in the sense that this so unbelievable, I’m convinced the Doctor plopped down in his T.A.R.D.I.S. and threw us into some kind of warped alternative reality where Luke spends his free holiday hours stringing popcorn and disappearing down chimneys.”

He acts like he’s not hanging on by her scarf strings.

“So, uh…” he clears his throat, gulping down that familiar flutter he’s been trying to subdue all night, “what now?”

“I’d say we have a conundrum, Watson.”

“We sure do, Sherlock.”

The ghost of their past love, which is not dead yet, follows close behind this remark to rustle the nerves of his heart like a skeleton because she’s all doe-eyed and lively, flirty without trying, and not to mention cute as hell. It makes Jess clench his fists as he struggles to get a fucking grip. Making him feel things he thought he’d taught himself how to forget.  

How many times can this happen? How many goddamn ways to Sunday can he be kicked in the gut? It won’t do anymore, alright? Not when he’s taken the trouble to grow this thick, mature leather skin.

(Except he knows it’s too late. He already knows…)

He’s back where he started again.

He’s back at the threshold of seventeen where he first spotted that ellipsis carved into the corners of her mouth on the night they first met, standing in her bedroom doorway like a thief, coveting her literature because he knew with a glance that this girl was sentences and paragraphs. He knew she was pages and chapters and books which were yet to be understood in some overarching theme he wouldn’t be able name. He knew she was a still-developing story he’d need to read through to the conclusion.

I knew. I knew the first time I saw you.

That same ellipsis is back in Rory's features tonight, in this moment. Or maybe it’s always been there? Maybe it’s never disappeared, never gone away?

She wears it like a bookmark: pressed between every curve and contour, written between every beautiful line of her face. It’s the same one asking him to turn over to the next page right now…and follow again.

                                                    _

He senses it in the forgotten silence fourth.

                                                    _

“Luke would be furious if he knew,” Rory says with a flick of her forefinger.

“Maybe he already does? Lorelai has wife sway these days. I’m sure she works that to her advantage,” Jess replies with a snicker.

The December air has reddened her nose and there’s snow stuck to her pant leg, but she seems impervious to the cold of her beloved Stars Hollow.

“Mom would revel in how you’ve bestowed her with all the credit for this, but no,” she shakes her head, obviously amused. “No, Luke’s compliance with town tradition would make Taylor too gleeful.”

Pensive, Jess nods. He rolls up the sleeves of his brown coat.

“Let’s take it down then.”

“What!?” Her eyes widen, horrified.“No! Wait, wait!”

Part diverted, part bemused, he pauses to quirk an eyebrow at her, “What for? Petal will eat it. There’s not a garbage dropping in all of Connecticut that pig hasn’t devoured like it’s creme brulle,” he offers reassuringly.

“Yeah, but…that’s not what I—”

“He’s become the Tiny oinking Tim of this crazy town, anyway. Except with tender hooves instead of crutched feet.”

“And Kirk.”

“Yeah, and Kirk,” Jess concedes wryly.

“Hold on,” Rory interjects in a bolder tone. “Let’s stop think about this for a second. If we do this,” she exhales, her blue-knit mittens raised in supplication and her bottom lip sucked between her teeth, “if we do it, then we forfeit the chance to witness a ranting, raving Luke throwing candy canes all over the floor of the Soda Shoppe tomorrow.”

“Imagine the entertainment potential with me here, Kimmel.” She sweeps her arms out for dramatic effect, zooming in at him with her hands like a camera. “It’d be like Jingle All the Way meets Stars Wars.”

“With Taylor as what? A crowd-flung Booster? Chewbacca?”

Rory nods enthusiastically, “There’d be heavy Wookie wailing and all.”

Jess’ lips twitch as he considers this. Then he shrugs. “Nothing we haven’t seen a million times before.”

“No! But…but…this year he’s selling candy cane light sabers that glow as red as Kylo’s tantrums!” she says in ta-da; as if, somehow, this information will confuse him enough to halt his next maneuver.

“Where’s Han Solo when you need him to smuggle you some good marketing?” Jess cringes. “Geez.”

“Still stabbed through the chest somewhere, unfortunately. Besides,” Rory adds with a wave of her hand, “I doubt the Force is strong enough to fix Taylor’s strange slogans.”

“You said it, Skywalker, not me.”

He reaches up then, still shaking his head, to curl his hand around the decoration’s sparkly red bow. Finding the hook, he threatens to yank it to the ground with a good tug or two despite the punches Rory pounds into his arm in playful protest. Smirking, he lifts it further out of her reach. She narrows her eyes in warning.

“Don’t even think about it, Mariano!” she exclaims as she lunges over his shoulder amid a peal of laughter. Attempting to grab it from him, she jumps up-and-down like a pogo stick. “Oh my God, don’t you dare deprive me of the possibility of Luke going all Vader in the middle of Taylor’s SantaLand tomorrow!”

“Cool your over-caffeinated bouncin’ there, Easter bunny,” Jess laughs. He twines the slack of her scarf around her head to slow her down. “What if I said I plan to leave a festive chalkperson in its stead? Would that be an acceptable substitute, d’you think?”

Lowering his hand, he allows the ball to swing, unencumbered, above them like an ornament. Rory pulls back to unloosen her scarf, her face flushed and her mood jovial. “Only if you draw Santa Claus,” she says.

He wrinkles his nose, “Nah, I was thinking more like Dickens’ Christmas ghosts. This town needs a good haunting.”

“Whatever you say, Scrooge.”

“Excuse me, but the name’s Dodger to you.”

“As if I could forget,” she says with a wistful chuckle, averting her gaze.

Moments like these always feel so easy and natural and inevitable between them. Like laughter, or…breathing.

“Putting the whole Dennis the Menace scheme aside for a second,” Rory looks down and crunches salt and snow beneath her boots, “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we could—oh, I don’t know…”

When she stops mid-thought to click the heels of her boots together and shift her body to the side, fumbling with her mittens, he prods. “What?”

“We could…we could, um, let it stay there, couldn’t we? It’s not bothering anyone up there, and Luke’s inflammatory reaction whenever he sees it tomorrow will be nothing short of Oscar-worthy and, well,” Rory adds in a languid but rambling tone which is a little reminiscent of her timorous teenage self, “it wouldn’t be illegal if two people found themselves under it or anything.”

“You mean, like…” Jess swallows. His voice comes out husky, like it’s comprised of strangled consonants and vowels, and it makes the words quiver when they breach his lips to meet the air. He hates the sound. “Kind of, uh,” he falters a second time; scratches his chin, “kind of like we are now?”

Shrugging ‘yeah’ in a nonchalant way, but still fidgeting more than normal by bouncing on her toes, Rory angles toward him with warm but wary eyes that size him up as if they’re still trying to decide something, “I mean, don’t you think some traditions can be nice?” she asks timidly.

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t know.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. He rocks side-to-side as if he’s trying to circulate warmth to his limbs, but really, he’s avoiding her eyes. “Maybe,” he amends.

“So, certain ones can be okay then?” Rory asks with a tilt of her head.

“Depends, I guess.”

There’s a slight edge to her expression when she looks at him here: something that’s equal parts adorable, nervous, tenacious, and bashful. It’s a look that reaches out with a hand that shivers whenever she scoots forward to huddle between his feet, her fingers trembling against his shirt, above his heart. She shivers hard.

“Would you be scandalized if I told you I liked this tradition?” she asks.

“No,” Jess breathes. “Not really.”

“After all,” Rory whispers, her blue eyes warm and eager as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her forehead against his, leaning in with calamity curved into her smile, “what’s the harm in you and me beneath some mistletoe at least once in our lives?”

“I’ll quote the Beach Boys here and say—” Cupping her face in his hand, drawing her against him, he surrenders to that awaiting gift like he would delicious poison, “God only knows.”

                                                        _

Jess tastes it on her parting and pliant lips last. Her tongue slides in and tells him everything he needs to know because this part—the kissing, that zipping and tingling chemistry which adrenalizes every nerve in his body the moment their mouths collide—is the one thing that’s worked flawlessly between them since the start. And it still does.

The connection between them is still there, still flourishing.

It’s more alive in this moment than it was fifteen years ago, and it’s sharpening into something denser and deeper. It’s precarious at best; irrational to the core. It’s becoming a fact as inevitable and as irrevocable and as fucking evident as black letters on a pure white page, and Jess knows there’s not a single damn thing he can do to prevent his mind from writing it down in literal easy-to-read lines. No margins this time. He knows he can’t stop the rush of past, present, and future from merging inside his pounding chest, from rustling those old feelings he’s tried (and failed) to claw from his heart like weeds.

This is it. There’s no subduing or denying. As F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, this is ‘the beginning and ending of everything.’

Calamity hangs above his head with the mistletoe then falls like the December flakes around them as Rory kisses him long and hot and sweet. Wrecking him with the knowledge that he could—yeah, he could fall in love with her again all too easily.

[grcveyacd]

@halliwellauto liked for a starter feat. ashlee williams

“ —- i pay attention to things that most people ignore. “

[grcveyacd]

@miidnighters liked for a starter feat. ashlee williams

“ i’d offer to get you a drink but i’m off the clock. “ she hummed softly, taking a seat across from the other. “ i’m sure my replacement can get you something if you really need it. “ 

[grcveyacd]

“ is someone robbing my tip jar not a life or death situation? “ she huffed, feeling the need to scream radiate throughout her but, she refrained, knowing that would only mess with her tips further, and she didn’t want to be perceived as the crazy bartender. one of her coworkers was already labeled that, and they surely didn’t need two. “ there was at least five hundred in there, and they stole it from right under my nose. “ she ran her fingers through her dark locks, letting out a sigh. “ i needed that money — so, yeah, i would call it a life or death kind of emergency. “ 

               "When you said you needed my help, I was under the assumption it was an emergency." Vampire replied, continuing to watch Ashlee clean the bar. "Like, a life or death kind of emergency. That's how you made it sound, anyway." Lips pursed together again. "Rough night?"

[grcveyacd]

“ of course i’m here, where else would i be? “ // @hypnoticfever - muse roulette meme

[grcveyacd]

🌸 closed starter for @writaers feat. ashlee williams

“ how long has it been since you’ve slept? “ her voice was laced with concern as she looked at the other, head tilting slightly as she picked a dirty glass up off the bar. “ maybe you should go home and get some sleep? it’ll make you feel better. “ she rinsed out the glass in her hand, gaze lifting to look at the half full glass in from of them. “ sleep will help you more than that crap. “

[grcveyacd]

“ i’m sure. “ she gives her friend the tiniest smile and reaches forward to pick up her glass, taking a small sip. usually she didn’t down her sorrows in alcohol but it seemed to be the other thing that helped these days. with everything going on with her father, and then everything at work — she just needed a breather, and tonight was helping a little bit with it. “ i would take you up on the offer but something tells me that you wouldn’t find my type around here. “ she chuckles, her dark hues scanning the room. “ do you ever get the dangerous types around here? or just the pretty types? “ she asks, curious if anything. 

closed starter for @grcveyacd (continued from here)

"it's quite a life." an understatement, though cosette didn't have any regrets. she enjoyed her job; being a fantasy for many, an outlet for some and a relief for others. she'd found her way through holding her head up high and had built up a reputation that was decent, in spite of how indecent many percieved her career to be. "as long as you're sure, ashlee. if there's anything i can do to help you, please let me know. whether it be ordering you some food, or finding a pretty someone to take home. i've got a wide range of skills." the words fall teasingly, offering the other woman a bright, welcoming smile.

[grcveyacd]

“ oh, i pay attention to everything. “ she chuckled, leaning forward to grab her glass of wine, taking a small sip. “ you forget that i’ve been a bartender for more than ten years now — that job had taught me everything when it comes to reading others, and seeing things that others don’t seem to pick up on. “ 

"then you must be really good at observing the world around you. how much do you pay attention to?"

[grcveyacd]

“ great — though, that drink looks a little watered down. “ her dark hues flicked down to his glass, and then back up at him, chuckling softly. “ was it not to your liking? “ she raised a brow, a smirk forming on her lips. “ i promise not to take offense if it’s not. “ she was lying. she’d take it to heart but, she wouldn’t make a big deal about it. it was only a drink after all, and she would just have to do better next time. “ it has been a long night. i’ve been here since we opened at noon. “ she picked up her glass, and took a small sip of it, enjoying the bitterness from the alcohol on the tip of her tongue. “ i swear, the afternoon crowd is a cakewalk compared to the evening crowd. they are less demanding. “ 

"Nah, I am all good." He tips the cocktail he'd barely had a sip from in her direction, flashing a grin. "Long night then?"

[grcveyacd]

she felt like an idiot for losing her fathers damn dog, she had only been back in this hell hole for two weeks now and she was already starting to regret her choice. everything had just gone to shit as soon as she stepped foot back in the town she grew up in. she was only here to help her father move into a smaller place but, for some reason, life kept happening and it was prolonging her two day stay, into a two week stay. and it was really starting to grate her nerves. her fathers dog jumping out the bed of the truck was just icing on the cake, and she felt like imbecile running up on someone's property just to retrieve him. but, she had heard from someone in town that they had seen him around this property. and low and behold, there he was, getting the spa treatment. “ um — yeah! he’s mine. “ she didn’t even bother to correct herself as she walked up to the bottom of the steps, fingers raking through her hair. “ i can see that he’s enjoying himself, i hope he’s not been too much of a hassle for you. “ 

character: thomas open: m/f/nb plot: it’s been a year since thomas’ brother, lawrence abendroth aka the biloxi butcher was arrested and true crime blogs created suspicions/conspiracies that thomas was somehow involved in his brother’s crimes. since his brother’s arrest, thomas left his home in st. louis for a cabin in vermont to get away from public scrutiny, where he spends his time in solitude with his four dogs. your muse can be any connection: neighbors, strangers, friends, true crime podcasters, murder fanatics, as long as it’s not t*boo or family.

thomas always had a soft spot for dogs, but he never had the time as a therapist to properly take care of one. now he had nothing but time, now he had four dogs in his home: pepper, kenneth, porkchop, and applesauce. they were his only companions in his self-imposed isolation and what fine company they made. so when he saw a dog, covered in mud and foraging for food by the front door, his heart compelled him to help the dog—at the very least, allow them to eat when they’re so desperately hungry. it took an hour or so for the dog to fully trust him, but once they did, thomas decided to give them a quick bath on the porch. “poor baby,” tom frowned as he washed behind the ears, only for those ears to suddenly raise in alert. tom looked to the front steps, finding a silhouette approaching. “hello?” he called to the them, squinting slightly without his glasses on, “is this your dog?”