#watch me agonizing that no one likes it even though logically everyone's too busy celebrating the holidays to read fic

[terapsina]

Elejah and ❤ pls🙏

❤️ first kiss / realization

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ao3

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When she finally walked into her room at the end of what should have been one of the longest days of her life - except that her name was Elena Gilbert and it seemed that could now be said of nearly every day - she just wanted to sleep.

Sleep and forget the past few days entirely.

Elena realized this was off the table as soon as she saw him. Elijah stood with his back to her, staring out her bedroom window.

She froze, hand clenching against the doorknob, a maelstrom of contradictory emotions hitting her at once.

Anger.

Sadness.

And most of all guilt, because there was just a little bit of relief there too.

She was relieved that he hadn't died; that his mother had failed; that Elijah had managed to save his family despite the cost. But as always, it had been Bonnie who had paid the price.

"I considered solely leaving a letter," Elijah said and Elena's eyes were drawn to the reflection of the envelope in his hands that she could see in the glass of her window.

Elena said nothing.

She swallowed, something sharp growing at the back of her throat. She thought about turning around and just... just leaving. But her feet didn't seem to want to obey and Elena found herself closing the door behind her instead.

"I am sorry, Elena, for what I did to you and to your friend today." Regret was heavy in Elijah's voice.

"That makes it all better, then," Elena whispered, bitterness heavy in the tone as she folded her arms in front of herself, fingers digging into her sides, trying to relieve the hurt that burned far deeper.

"It does not," Elijah admitted and turned to face her, putting the letter on the sill.

Her breath caught.

There was something strange about the expression on his face; about the way he ran his eyes over her like he was casting Elena into his memory as if-

"You're leaving," Elena said, suddenly numb.

It was only hours since he'd slammed down his foot and broke the earth beneath her feet. Why was it that this felt nearly the same?

Elijah crossed the room to her without reply and then slowly, - like he was giving Elena time to flinch or to evade him - he reached over to slide his fingers over the side of her face, brushing against her skin with near imperceptible lightness.

"A common mistake," Elijah said under his breath like he was suddenly speaking more to himself than Elena.

'And it's one I won't make again,' echoed words in Elena's memory.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Elijah's eyes sparked with rueful self-mockery before turning soft as his touch grew firmer - though no more constrictive, - the palm of his hand warm over her cheek, fingers resting against the bone behind her ear.

His dark brown eyes filled with an emotion Elena was too afraid to name, even though the swooping sensation in her stomach hinted at recognition.

"I will miss you, Elena," Elijah said and she felt his thumb moving to wipe away a tear before it could even fully form.

Her lips parted for words she wasn't even sure she knew.

They were not fated to meet the air in any case, because Elijah leaned forward, allowing his lips to glide over Elena's. Her eyes slid closed without permission, letting another tear free to wet her cheek.

A stinging taste of sorrow and out-of-reach starlight.

His kiss stayed feather-light, free of demand, and yet Elena couldn't quite make herself end it. Certain that once she did, Elijah would be gone before she could even open her eyes, and she wasn't sure she was quite ready for that, despite the anger that still waited for its turn for a spin.

Goodbye.

Elijah was saying goodbye.

There was a sharp tearing sensation inside her chest, only a small crack and yet utterly unexpected. When had Elena given Elijah a spot within her heart?

How had she not noticed it?

A wounded noise escaped her throat and Elena regretted it at once because Elijah seemed to take it as a request for him to stop. Their lips parted and Elena faltered in place, calming only when she felt his lips moving up to press between her brows.

She moved her hand over his chest, wrinkling the suit above it with her clenched fingers like keeping hold would stop him from leaving.

"Running won't fix things, Elijah."

"Would staying?"

Yes. She wanted to say but couldn't quite make herself, afraid that it would make her heart jump.

"I- I don't know," Elena said instead. Knowing that that was at least the truth.

Her hand moved in tandem with the deep breath of air Elijah inhaled. His nose against the crown of her head.

Her scent.

He was still putting her to memory.

The anger sparked.

"You're being a coward, Elijah." She pulled away from him, glaring fiercely now. Furious. And yet Elena's hand still clenched expensive fabric to keep him in place. "What's the plan? Kiss me, wait five hundred years, and tell my however-many-greats-granddaughter another tragic tale?"

It seemed she'd found just the words to trigger Elijah's anger too.

Good.

"I did not kiss you because of your face, Elena," Elijah snapped, eyes fiery.

"So everyone always says," her lips twisted, bile sharp on her tongue.

"I am not one of your Salvatores," there was an edge to his voice that sent an unwelcome thrill down Elena's back. "Your resemblance to Tatia and to Katerina is why I did not want to-"

"Do what? Complete the set?"

Hurt filled her chest cavity. Elena the copy. Or Elena the anti-copy. Elena the second chance at the previous version. A better Katherine. Or she supposed this time a living Tatia.

Elijah read her pain like a book, his anger vanishing into nothing. He placed his hand over hers.

"Elena Gilbert. You are the most compassionate person I have met in a thousand years. You are also the woman who once negotiated a deal with me from a position that should have given you nothing. You are the woman who drove a dagger through my heart, and then pulled it out. It is not the fact that you are a Doppelganger that made me kiss you tonight. It was everything else."

She stared at him, throat dry, feeling like she'd just been toppled by a powerful wave.

"So prove it," Elena choked out.

They continued to stare at each other as if she'd just thrown down the gauntlet and the next moment rested on a knife-sharp axis.

Her face firmed and she released her hold on his suit, it had been an illusion anyway, she couldn't make him stay if he didn't want to do so.

"Prove it!" she repeated. "Or leave!"

Elijah did not leave.

[maylovexhs]

THE ASSISTANT - SUPERSTAR PART 2

Author’s Note: Y’all, part 1 blew up so THANK YOU! I might make this 5-7 parts as we go. But thank you! I love the feedback! As always, enjoy reading!

Ps. I am trying to fix the links and will make a Superstar masterlist soon. This is the link to the Superstar Masterlist because tumblr is being a dick (https://maylovexhs.tumblr.com/post/184493442839/superstar-masterlist).

When Y/N woke up the morning after, she woke up to cold sheets. Of course, like her other one night stands, they were always gone before she woke up. Usually Y/N felt a little hurt with them leaving but that morning, she didn’t. She didn’t because she knew Harry leaving was for the best. She knew Harry was too busy to stay in bed with her when he had a million things on his mind to do. Y/N took pleasure in that fact. He was leaving her because he needed to, not because he wanted to.

Other than that fact, the note on her bedside table from him made her feel better too. He left a note thanking her for “celebrating” with him. In the two weeks that had passed by of Y/N seeing him, she had come to realize she was thankful for him too. Just as always, each day was difficult for her. But Y/N had to admit these days were less of a pain to her. Mostly because she couldn’t stop thinking about her night she shared with Harry.

When she was driving to pick up a coffee for her boss, she would remember Harry and her kissing in the car when he drove her home. When she was doing paperwork at the firm and her back started to ache, she remembered how Harry’s hands gripped her back and how his hands would roam to her chest. What Y/N remembered the most from that night was Harry being in between her thighs. She remembered how her clit felt when Harry’s tongue was on it. She remember how breathless she was when he had his fingers in her. No matter how many times she tried to recreate that feeling of him between her thighs on her own, she couldn’t. Y/N had Harry stuck on her mind and he blocked out anything else she felt. She started to zone out here and there at work, wondering what Harry was doing now. One of those moments being now.

“Y/N” Jessie called on her.

“What?” Y/N said, snapping out of the clouds and turning to Jessie.

Jessie rolled her eyes at her.

“Lucy called me saying she’s sick” Jessie told Y/N. “She asked if you can fill out the paper work and give it-“

“I got it” Y/N said, standing up from her chair. “I’ll fill it out and give it to him”

“Thanks” Jessie said.

Y/N nodded to her before leaving to get a snack which she desperately needed. It may have been the morning still but she knew there was a high chance she would be called to do something else during the day and needed some energy to prepare herself for it. As Y/N waited at the vending machines for co-worker to pick something, she noticed she her nipples were sensitive. Of course, she knew it was a sign that her time of the month was arriving soon but Y/N found it agonizing. All she wanted was them to stop hurting. She wanted to touch them but she couldn’t here. Again, she was reminded of Harry and how he had made her moan while touching them. Y/N shook her head at her own thoughts. She needed to stop thinking about Harry, specifically their night together. For once in her life, she was pleased to file some paperwork. It would distract her, at least for today.

Y/N’s snack proved to help her. It was an hour after lunch that she had finished filing all her papers. Particularly, Lucy’s thirty pages that needed to be carefully overlooked and filed. Y/N took pride in her time management skills. She knew her coworker herself couldn’t have finished those papers in that amount of time.

In fact, Y/N wondered if her boss would be impressed by how fast she finished it.

Y/N took the papers from her desk and walked to her boss’ office. She knocked on his door and she heard him say enter. When she did go in, she wished her boss would have turned her away.

Y/N’s boss was Jeffery Azoff and he was having lunch with his friend. The same friend who spent the night at Y/N’s apartment. Him. Harry.

Y/N became speechless at the sight of him. She wondered if she was dreaming. It felt like she was. Harry’s hair was cut short. The last time she saw him it was long. Despite feeling it was a dream, it wasn’t. If it was, her boss would be the last person she expected to be in it. As for Harry, he was somewhat surprised to see Y/N walk into the room. He didn’t expect her to work here, especially for his best friend. He was still pleased to see her as he had to admit too that he missed her.

“Yeah Y/N?” Jeffery asked her.

Y/N gulped, trying to regain control of herself.

“Umm . .Lucy’s out and she asked me to file and give these papers to you” Y/N said, feeling a bit out of breath.

Harry smirked at her, remembering she had the same look on her face now as she did when Harry was between her thighs. She looked beautiful in and out of bed anyways, Harry thought.

“Oh, great” Jeff said. “You can leave it on my desk”

Jeff turned to Harry, picking up where they were last talking about.

“H, I really think you could but I don’t see that happening in the timeframe” Jeff said.

Y/N nodded, walking over to Jeff’s desk. Harry took a quick glance at Y/N when she placed the papers on the desk. Harry pretended to listen to Jeff as he watched Y/N leave the room. Harry turned to Jeff, wanting to change the conversation to a new topic. He wanted to ask Jeff about Y/N.

Y/N rushed to the bathroom as soon as she walked out the office. She went into an empty stall and locked it. She pulled down her skirt and panties, noticing she was dripping.

“Fuck me” Y/N cursed at herself, pulling her clothes up again.

She opened the stall and went to the sink to watch her hands that had become sweaty at the sight of Harry. Y/N had no idea what to do. Harry knew where she worked. Harry knew her boss as a friend. More importantly, Harry knew what she looked like naked. Y/N shook her head and hands, imagining Harry telling her boss that he slept with her. She took some paper towels to dry her hands before leaving the restroom. She returned back to her desk, laying back in her chair. She sighed.

Y/N knew she could do nothing to reverse the past, but she felt angry at herself. She could have not slept with Harry. She could have not talked to him at the bar and left after her first shot of whiskey. But, no she listened to her guts and stayed at the bar because she thought Harry was a nice guy. Y/N should have known that all guys are trouble, even if they are nice at first. Y/N buried her head in her hands.

“I’m fucked” Y/N said in a low voice in her palms. “Completely fucked”

Y/N waited to leave work until everyone else did. Y/N thought if she saw Jeff leaving before her that would mean Harry left too. Y/N didn’t want to risk the chance of her leaving work and bumping into Harry and having to explain to her boss how she knew Harry. She couldn’t let that happen after she almost embarrassed herself in front of Jeff while only handing him papers. Y/N wasn’t going to take any chances.

After waiting twenty minutes, Y/N got up from her desk and got dressed to leave. She went to the elevator and pressed the down button. She was on the third floor and didn’t really feel like walking down the stairs when she felt weak in the knees from seeing Harry today. Besides, Y/N thought the elevator would decrease the likelihood of running into Harry. No one wants to wait to take the elevator when they are rushing to get home. The stairs would be faster than the elevator. Y/N thought her logic was all sound but when the elevators’ doors opened, Y/N felt she had become the most stupid person on the planet.

Right in front of her was him. Harry.

Him, Y/N thought while crossing her arms. Of course it had to be him. I should have expected him leaving late to avoid attention.

A small smirk grew on Harry’s lips when he saw her. He was thinking about her ever since lunch and now, she stood in front of him, coincidence or not.

Y/N walked into the elevator, thinking she would look like a coward if she walked away after Harry seeing her. Harry may have made her panties wet a little but she wasn’t going to let him think he had the smallest effect on her. Y/N faced away from Harry, trying to ignore him. Harry looked her down and up, having a bigger smirk on his lips before.

How she has changed, Harry thought. This is a whole new side to her than what I’ve seen of her in bed.

“Didn’t expect you to work for my friend” Harry said, trying to make conversation with her. “Is Jeff really that much of a dickhead to you?”

Y/N looked to Harry.

“Sometimes” She answered. “And I told you I work as an assistant”

Y/N looked away from Harry and to the floor number the elevator was on. It was two.

“You didn’t tell me where though” Harry said.

“Because I didn’t want to” Y/N said, without turning to him. “Didn’t want a stranger to know where I worked. . . And I knew we would only have a one night stand”

Harry chuckled. It was her honesty that made him fond of her.

Harry moved closer to her. He stood behind her, almost standing over her. He was certain she could feel his breath on her skin and Y/N did. She did feel tensed that he was shadowing over her. But when she felt Harry’s fingers trace up the inside of her thigh, that’s when Y/N really lost it.

Y/N turned around to him.

“You may know where I work but that doesn’t mean I want to have sex again” Y/N said. “So forget it. We’re strangers”

The elevator doors opened and Y/N was the first to walk out. Harry stood behind for a moment, thinking of what Y/N had just said.

She wanted them to be strangers again. But Harry knew they couldn’t be. They saw each other naked, for fuck’s sake. Harry wasn’t going to let Y/N treat him like a stranger. He would let her treat her like anybody else but not a stranger and he had a way in changing that.

[blacklodgemusictx]

Taking off to Mars...

Bear with me.  I haven’t written a music review since covering a Midnight Oil show for my college paper in 2001.  Personally, I thought I had a unique perspective as no one else seemed to go to shows while busy being studious, but one response was an anonymous letter to the editor: “No one cares about a date Liz Green had to see a band no one has heard of.”  Fair enough, callow youth, fair enough.

Two things you need to know about me:  

 1.)  I live for music - it’s how I relate to other people.

 2.)  I reside in a town where everything I want to see or do it a minimum of 3 hours in any direction.  Every now and then something cool will happen, but there’s usually a 3-5 year gap between these cool occurrences.   You want something amazing to happen you either go find it or you make it happen yourself.  I made it happen once.  And it was stressful … and expensive.  So we prefer the seeking.

I had the good fortune to meet an older boy with similar sensibilities.  I always bemoaned the fact that there were no songs with my name in them:  Elizabeth has too many syllables, Liz not enough.  Up until this moment, I’d had to adopt “Beth” by Kiss.  He gave me a Hex song with my first AND last name in it, “Elizabeth Green, deep and serene.”  So I gave the boy my heart and he gave me his name.  Together we go out in to the world looking for the things that set us on fire.

The giving of songs is how I express myself.  Though I have a literary side, my degree is in business and my logical side tells me that someone has probably already described the things I’m thinking or feeling and has probably done it a lot more eloquently than I ever could.  The right song is out there for every situation... you just have to know where to look.  

A fight, the silent treatment from my husband, an uncomfortable car ride:  Rush’s “Open Secrets” on my iPod: “I never meant what you’re thinking.  That’s not what I meant at all.”  A friend dealing with heartache and a lying lover?  “The Wreckers” also by Rush.  Another friend’s husband passed away.  I gave her “Take my Heart” by Caroline’s Spine.  “Just in case I lose this race, I’ll always be there watching over you…”  Even if the song didn’t quite hit them the way it hit me, to accept the giving of a song is to accept the giver.

Seven months ago, two friends in tow and tickets to see Marty Willson-Piper in hand, we sped toward Fort Worth.  We were late.  A thing that often happens when work and driving and days of the week get in the way.  “It’s ok,” I assured my husband, “There are two openers.  We have plenty of time.  We won’t miss anything.”  Ha.  Prepare to eat your words in 3…2…1…

The order was Salim Nourallah, “Laish” (a British band fronted by Danny Green.  The band was absent due to the financial constraints of intercontinental travel so I started thinking of Danny as Laish sort of like Bono or Cher), and Marty Willson-Piper - Mr Willson-Piper being the former lead guitarist of the Church - my husband’s favorite band and consequently a band we’d been seeing together since 2002.  We only had tickets to that show, but after we were blown away by each performance in Fort Worth, we noticed the tour was EIGHT Texas shows long.  NO ONE gives that much love to Texas.  No one.

We proceeded to attend three more: Cactus Cafe in Austin and the two shows at the Palo Santo Galactic Headquarters - words that held zero meaning to me until I actually went there: it’s a space Salim set up next to his recording studio in Dallas.  The space accommodates about 30 and is the perfect location for comfortable, intimate shows.  Palo Santo is the independent record label founded by Salim and the similarly incomparable Sarah Henry.  

During this run of shows, I got to talk to Salim both in person and on Facebook.  I learned that he was not an “opener” for Marty Willson-Piper, he was the mastermind that made the whole tour happen.  I signed up for his mailing list and even if the name is tongue in cheek - The Cult of Nourallah - it’s spot on.  Salim is the most charismatic person you will ever meet.  If he thinks you should listen to a certain artist or album, it will appear on your chosen music player.  If he really did want to start a cult, you’d go buy whatever color shoes he instructed.  And he does it all with a calm, quiet, reassuring presence that lets the music speak for itself.

After these shows, I started listening to Salim’s albums.  All of them.  A lot.

No really… a LOT.

His style is simple, clean and straight forward.  The songs are heartfelt and often autobiographical.  Though coming from a musical background of performance and recording with his brother Faris, Salim’s solo career began in 2004 with the album “Polaroid” and has spanned the next prolific fifteen years to 2018’s “Somewhere South of Sane.”

I quickly assimilated the music from his albums in to my personal first aid kit of songs.  I recently helped a friend through a painful divorce and played Salim’s “It’s Ok to Be Sad” for her.  The idea is often something overlooked in adulthood and though it seems simplistic, the act of permission can be profound.  It’s ok to be sad.  It’s ok to mourn.  Things don’t work out.  

I ended up giving that friend Salim’s entire “Somewhere South of Sane” vinyl set.  SSOS is an album that I digested in pieces myself .  The songs feel so personal - the songwriter’s own heartbreak on public display - the act of musical consumption feels like voyeurism.  Spying through a window at people hurting each other.  It reminded me so much of my own first marriage - at a much too early age - and divorce that it was difficult to hear.  I felt well armed in that moment and profoundly grateful that Salim gave me something that I was able to pass on in the name of healing through the acceptance of grief.

While I put my arms around my friend at the local courthouse and held her through the end of her marriage, I struggled in my own personal life with a health scare that could possibly change everything.  I held on to Salim’s “Don’t Be Afraid” at this time and probably listened to it twenty times.  I’ll try not to be afraid.  I’ll try.  I’ll try to be brave… still, Salim, keep telling me.  It’s nice to hear.  Ultimately, after an agonizing length of time (agony and length only felt by the person in it), I learned I was ok.  Here I appreciate Salim’s “Goddamn Life” (Hit Parade, 2012.)  I’m so in love with my goddamn life.  It may be scary and it may hurt at times, but look at the alternative… right?

There’s a certain degree of uncertainty in being a member of the human race.  We all secretly think we are doing it differently and most probably wrong.  We toil next to each other in silence and the great tragedy is: we’re all doing it pretty much the same, but we don’t know that.  To be unsure of this, but to put it in song anyway and then present for the world to hear takes bravery I cannot even comprehend.  Trying to describe love is like trying to describe the color blue.  You put your song out there with the secret fear: what if that’s not love?  What if that’s not blue?  What if I’m doing it wrong?  What if everyone else sees things differently?  What if there’s something wrong with me?

* * *

Fast forward to last weekend - Saturday May the 4th.  I had the honor of gathering with Salim and his friends to celebrate with a retrospective show at Palo Santo.  

“If I really had to break it down,” Salim told us when announcing the event, “the one that thing that has meant the most to me is writing songs.  So it seemed fitting to spend my upcoming birthday not only with my real family but also with my ‘other’ family: my family of songs.  I'm sure you've probably heard songwriters refer to their songs being almost like children.  It's a hard thing to describe…”

But he does describe it in “Stranger in My Own Skin” (Constellation, 2009), “I’m gonna take some pain and stick it to a tune so you can sing along, get the words all wrong.”  And he did.  He stuck pain to a lot of tunes.  Pain, laughter, love, heart break, friendship, desire, despair, betrayal...  He stuck feelings to 15 years worth of tunes and more and on Saturday he indulged us in tastes from each album to commemorate another year of his existence on this planet.

The vibe was laid back and friendly - Palo Santo is like no other place you will ever experience.  It’s more like going over to Salim’s house, his face lights up and he says “Here, let me play something for you…”

The configuration was different this time than others I had been in attendance there.  Chairs were arranged on three sides, a seat and a guitar against the wall in the middle.  When Salim took his place in front of us, the small crowd immediately fell silent - not like fearing the wrath of a teacher chiding students for talking, but more like the anticipation of watching a magician about to perform a magic trick.  

And there was a magic trick of a sort:  projected on the wall above Salim’s head was suddenly the album cover of “Polaroid.”  Salim chatted about this cover and each subsequent one as he told stories about each and sang the songs he chose to represent that album and period in his life.  We were instructed to sing along and we did so - almost reverently - with Salim’s guidance.

Set one covered: Polaroid, Beautiful Noise, Snowing in My Heart, Constellation and Hit Parade (2004-2012).  We then took a break to share a fabulous cake, chat and sing Salim “Happy Birthday.”

Set two then covered: Friends for Life, Skeleton Closet, The Travoltas, NHD (Salim’s project with Billy Harvey and Alex Dezen) album And the Devil Went up to Portland, and finally Somewhere South of Sane (2012-2018).

Though Salim got to what was supposed to be the final song from SSOS, “Rainbow Dolphins” was then brought up by an audience member.  Salim just grinned and assured us he could play that too.  And he did.

I didn’t want the evening to end.  We all filed out of Palo Santo in to an absolutely beautiful, cool Dallas night.  We chatted with each other and eventually goodbyes were said and people began to wander away.  I yawned one too many times and may or may not have enjoyed just a touch too much wine.  My husband, Doug, eventually took my hand, we thanked Salim and drifted away ourselves.

The magic doesn’t have to end quite yet as Salim has put up part two of the birthday retrospective for sale next weekend (a few tickets remain and can be acquired here: https://www.prekindle.com/event/26257-birthday-retrospective-salim-nourallah-2nd-show-dallas).  This was a singularly unique event and though lightning isn't supposed to strike twice, if anyone could make that happen, it is Salim.  Next weekend will be just as magical.

Links of interest:

https://www.instagram.com/palosantorecords/

https://www.instagram.com/salimnourallah/

http://salimnourallah.com/

https://palosantotx.com/

https://www.facebook.com/salimnourallah/

https://www.facebook.com/palosantotx/