And They Were In Quarantine (Oh My God They Were In Quarantine)
So I came up with this little one shot at like 4am the other day, (cause what else would I be doing during that time during a quarantine), and I just had to write it down.
I present to you…. And They Were In Quarantine (Oh My God They Were In Quarantine)
——
“No, no, no, no, no! This isn’t happening! This can’t be happening!” Caroline frantically rushed into the living room of the Salvatore house, distraught by something on her phone.
Damon looked up from his book. “What’s going on, Locks?” He set the book down on the coffee table as soon as he saw her face. She looked like a ghost.
“I just got an email from work. They’re closing the offices due to COVID. They said they’re going to try and get us to work from home, but considering that the Fashion Advertising industry isn’t exactly a, quote unquote, ‘essential service’, I shouldn’t hold my breath.” Caroline plopped down one the couch next to Stefan, across from Damon and Bonnie, the other half of their weird Scooby Gang.
The group had decided to take an impromptu trip down to Mystic Falls to surprise Lexi for her birthday amidst all the Corona craziness. Stefan said she could do with some friendly faces, so they had invited Tyler and Kai to tag along with them. Well, they invited Ty, whereas Kai just appeared on the plane in the seat next to Bonnie and Damon and no one questioned it.
Bonnie quickly glanced at Damon, who shrugged. “Well, I mean it could be worse. At least you’re getting paid,” Bonnie said, trying to comfort her best friend.
“Yeah, for now! I mean could this get any worse!” Caroline threw her hands in the air.
As if on cue, both Damon and Stefan’s phones buzzed.
“Kay, that was creepy,” Bonnie said, pointing at the phones.
“It’s probably just Kai in the other room trying to freak us out,” Damon said, placing a reassuring hand on Bonnie’s knee as he reached for his book again, when he looked at Stefan. “I don’t like the look on your face there, brother.”
Stefan looked at the others. “It’s work. The offices are closed until further notice.” He threw his phone down into the table, “Apparently a coworker had a confirmed case.”
Bonnie rubbed her hands down her face. “Oh my God.”
“I just had to go and open my big mouth,” Caroline said, staring blankly at Stefan’s phone.
“Do I even want to look at my phone?” Damon said sarcastically as he read the text from his boss.
“Well?” Caroline and Bonnie said in unison.
Damon looked between them. “Give you one guess,” he said, putting his phone down after sending a reply.
“Corona,” they all said together.
“Yup!” Damon punctuated the P with a pop.
“So only 1 out of 4 of us is working,” Bonnie said, “and that 1 is me.”
“You just had to go to medical school, didn’t ya kid.” Damon picked his book back up and continued reading.
“At least you’re working,” Stefan said, draping his arm over Caroline’s shoulders. “Bex has been going crazy since they closed campus for the year.”
“Yeah,” Caroline agreed, placing a hand on her boyfriend’s knee, “at least we aren’t fully trapped indoors.”
“I could not do that again,” Damon said, not looking up from his book.
“Agreed,” the other three said in unison.
And as if the world was playing some sick twisted joke on them, Stefan’s parents walked through the door.
Stefan’s parents, who had just been on a work trip to Italy.
“Mom! Dad!” Stefan shot up out of his seat at lightning speed, rushing to the door to help his mother with her bags.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be in Italy for another 2 weeks?” Bonnie looked nervously at Damon and Caroline.
“Oh, we got home as soon as we could before they closed down the country,” Marie Salvatore said, shrugging her coat off.
“Got on the last flight out of there,” Joe said as he set his keys down. “Where is Lexi? I need some help with the bags.”
“I can help you, Joe.” Damon stood up quickly, walking over to where Joe was lugging in another large suitcase.
“Oh, thank you son, the rest are in the car.”
Marie stepped further into the house. “Well, I hope you four have made yourselves comfortable, because you’re going to be here for the next little while.” She took a seat on the couch next to Bonnie.
“What do you mean?” Caroline fired a quick glance at the others.
“Haven’t you heard dear? Anyone who has travelled outside the country has to self-isolate for at least two weeks. And since you dears have been in contact with us…”
“That means we’ve been exposed,” Bonnie finished, exasperated.
“That’s right,” Marie said, placing her hand in Bonnie’s knee.
Damon and Joe walked through the door with the last of the bags. “Well, that’s all of them,” Joe patted Damon on the shoulder. “Thanks again there, son.”
“No problem, sir,” Damon said, waving Joe off.
“Well!” Marie stood up, clapping her hands together. “As of now this house is officially under quarantine!” Her tone made her sound almost excited. “It’ll be a wonderful chance to get to know you two better,” she looked at Damon and Caroline, smiling. “Now, where are Lexi and Bekah? I brought them back something I think they’ll love!” And with that, she walked away.
“That wife of mine,” Joe smiled. “I am sorry about this kids.” Joe patted Damon on the shoulder one more time, and went to follow his wife.
“What did I miss?” Damon looked at the others, hoping for answer.
“It’s happening again,” Caroline said, staring blankly into nothing.
“We’re stuck inside for the next two weeks,” Stefan added, sitting down next to Caroline.
“Why?”
“Self isolation.” Bonnie put her head into her hands.
“But why? We didn’t leave the country.”
Damon placed his hands on his girlfriend’s shoulders, rubbing soothingly.
“No, but my parents did,” Stefan threw his head back.
“And we’ve been in contact with them,” Caroline added.
Damon’s eyes widened as it fully hit him. “No.”
“Yep,” Bonnie said, placing a hand overtop his. “We’re trapped inside together, again.
“Only this time with my sisters,” Stefan grumbled.
“And your parents,” Caroline pointed out.
“And my brother,” Damon added.
“And Kai,” Bonnie finished. “Where is Kai anyways? I get nervous when I haven’t seen him for a few hours.”
That’s when the house shook, as an explosion from the far end of the house rocked down the halls.
None of the four even flinched; they had all gotten used to it by now.
“Well,” Damon said, making his was over to the drink cart, “if we’re gonna do this again, I’m going to need,” he popped the lid off the decanter, “a drink.” He looked up at the others. “Anyone else?”
Three hands immediately rose into the air.
“Thought so.”
——-
Reply: ohhhhhhhhh my God, I loved this so much! I was honestly laughing since the title and then it just kept getting better and better. Kai just showing up on the plane and no one questioned it? Perf. The whole thing mirroring the original scene where they all find out about the blizzard so perfectly except with an added layer of ‘not again’ panic/defeat? Chef’s kiss. Bonnie being the only essential worker and Damon calling her kid? Brava (although thankfully in real life they sent med students home - we’re easily the least essential people on the planet). I loved this so much, and LOOOOOOOOL the idea of making it literally everyone this time is hilarious - the core four are going to be so used to it whereas everyone else is going to be losing it. They’ll have to show them the ropes - step one is find someone to have unresolved sexual tension with and let that distract you for most of the time. Step two is drink a lot. Step three is learn how to not react to Kaisplosions. Voila, survival. This was so great, girl, thanks so much for sending it my way!!!! I’m unfortunately not really off during this time because I have my Step 2 exam in a few weeks so I can’t really be writing but submissions like this make the world go round, y’all are awesome.
Did Damon and Tyler leave each on good terms? Btw I absolutely adore your story, I've been following it for years and I recently rewatched your character spotlights so I was wondering about Damon and Tyler's relationship. I know we'll find out more about it once we meet Tyler at New Years but I was wondering if you could give us more of an insight?
could I give you more insight into one of my absolute fave dynamics of the fic that my sloth ass hasn’t managed to get to yet because I’m half-glacier? lmao absofruitely. first off, thanks so much for the kind words and for sticking with me over the years - I definitely recognize your username and you’ve sent me some really rad messages before and I appreciate it so much.
re: tyler and damon, they’re on great terms. damon’s very much tyler’s big brother and probably the first person damon’s ever had to take care of in some way, so even though they have this super fun, witty, outgoing dynamic, damon’s protective as hell of him. when he first joined their fancy family as a publicity stunt to make mayor lockwood look good, he was pretty surly and withdrawn and expected to get placed somewhere else within a month, but tyler was this super curious, adorable kid who wouldn’t leave him alone. he found him highkey annoying but also started getting endeared a little bit more every day, especially when he saw him getting bullied and stuff. when he figured out that his dad was an abusive drunk, he realized he had the opportunity to be the thing he never had when he was growing up - someone who cared and could protect him, you know? so he kind of slipped into that role a little at first, and then a little more, and then finally a lot. he didn’t run away like he usually did because he’d be leaving tyler alone. he didn’t act out or mouth off as much because for better or for worse, there was someone who needed him. as they got older, his sense of humor and irreverence inevitably rubbed off on tyler and their dynamic flipped into more of a BFF/bros4lyfe kinda deal, but even to this day, tyler’s one of the only responsibilities damon can never shrug off. katherine’s a wild partner in crime who he knows better than anyone, but only as well as anyone can really know katherine. she’s fickle and elusive and she always will be. but tyler’s his family and probably the only person damon would die for at this point in his life.
anyway, they have a phone call coming up either in this chapter or the next one that I’m super pumped to write so I’m so, so happy someone else is interested in their dynamic, too!
Hey guys, I posted this flashback a while ago on ff.net but just in case anyone missed it or skipped it, it’s going to be pretty relevant to the next chapter, so I’m posting it here, too.
Summary: A surprise visit from Matt leaves Caroline reeling, and Bonnie gets a glimpse of what's been going on behind closed doors. TW: implications of domestic abuse.
Emory University
Spring Semester, 2012
It was her fault.
He'd driven all the way from Texas to surprise her. Twelve hours in his rattling rust bucket of a 1982 Ford Pickup, windows down, stereo busted, likely listening to nothing but intermittent flares of talk radio between long, mind-numbing stretches of static. Twelve hours of no air conditioning in the southern humidity, of swampy Louisiana, muddy Mississippi, and balmy Alabama whizzing past him in a russet blur of not-quite-summer.
He'd stopped in Houston to get her favorite tacos from Ultimo's Taco Truck—extra guac, no sour cream—and they'd braved the heat in a dingy little cooler in the backseat. He'd even picked up a bottle of her favorite champagne, a bottle she knew he couldn't afford, because he'd wanted to celebrate: he'd been promoted to manager at the Grill. He could finally make a decent salary, enough to chip in for Vicky's rehab—maybe even enough to get a decent place in a year or two.
So really, it was her fault. Most of it, anyway. Maybe all of it.
She hadn't meant to seem unhappy to see him. She just wasn't expecting it. She'd been in the middle of cramming for her microeconomics final, brow furrowed, highlighter a citrine blur in her fingers, when she heard the knock on the door. Seeing Matt standing there with his crinkly-eyed smile, taco bag in one hand and champagne bottle in the other, made her giddily, soaringly, stupidly happy.
It always did.
But it also stressed her out. Her final was on Monday. She needed an absolute knockout performance to pull off a decent grade in the class, and she hadn't budgeted in Matt time. The tension began creeping in about thirty minutes after he got there, right as the rush of surprise began to fade, and like all of her emotions, it shone bright and obvious on her face.
He'd never been big on school, so the concept of caring about grades wasn't something he really sympathized with. She understood where he was coming from—he was only there for the weekend, she could probably just study Sunday night after he left, what did one stupid class matter in the big scheme of things, in the scheme of them, of their heady, hungry, songs-written-about-it kind of story—but obviously not enough, because it started a fight.
The first one, anyway.
The second fight was different, but also her fault. They were twined in her bed, lolling and lazy, naked skin auroral in the fading glow of the Georgia sunset, and even though they'd just made up, even though their last fight had ended a mere orgasm ago, she pushed a bit. About the job, about his goals, about Wimberley and whether he had any plans of getting out of their tiny Texan hometown.
She hadn't meant to sound pushy, she'd just meant to open up a realistic dialogue about their future and how they might navigate it together, but he immediately went on the defensive. He took it as her belittling his promotion, as her patronizing him and being a snob, and maybe there was a bit of truth in that, really, because Matt was smart as hell and it was hard for her to watch him sell himself so short, but at the same time, if that's what made him happy, she needed to support it, right?
The second fight was worse. A lot worse. It had all its own fire plus the embers of the first one, and it spread far beyond the bounds of its starting point. It spread to old resentments, past fights—to her signing him up for the SAT four years ago when he'd said he wasn't interested in college, to him being high more and more often when they talked on the phone, to Tyler and the time she'd accidentally passed out next to him while studying on her bed, on and on and nastier and louder until their throats were raw.
The sex that followed was different, too. Less 'make-up' and more 'make-a-point'. Bruising grips replaced meandering caresses. Sweet, whispered nothings became possessive growls, demeaning growls, growls of 'you think Tyler can make you moan like that?'. He didn't walk the line between pain and pleasure so much as zigzag it—one second she was on the brink of climax, the next she was wincing and trying to slow him down.
He'd chalk it up to rough sex. He always did, always gave her that baffled look of his, the one that made her feel like a moron for even saying anything. 'Since when is rough an issue for you?' She could never find the words to explain what was different about it, what made it feel like there was spite in his movements, like a part of him was trying to hurt her, trying to show her he could do whatever he wanted to her. So she'd flounder, and with a flare of amusement that screamed of humoring her, he'd concede that maybe he'd still been a little worked up from the fight, maybe he'd lost himself a bit in the leftover adrenaline.
Before he left, he told her, like he always did, that all the shit in his life was worth it if the trade-off was her. That he was sorry about the argument, that he'd start looking into the future, and that ultimately, the only thing that mattered to him was having her in it. She couldn't help but think that it was all said with a glint, though—the smug glint of the benevolent victor, of the person who knew he'd emerged in effortless control of a situation but wanted to seem gracious. It was an apology that had nothing to lose because it'd already won.
But then he pressed his forehead against hers and breathed her in, fingers gentle against her chin, angling her mouth up so he could brush her lips in light, nipping kisses, and she felt herself backtracking. Maybe he hadjust been a little too riled up from the fight—after all, how could someone holding her the way he was now, like she was the most delicate thing in the world, ever want to hurt her? It didn't make sense. Matt would die over hurting her. He was right, she was just being stupid.
He'd driven all the way here.
He'd brought her favorite tacos.
He'd splurged on her favorite champagne.
And she'd started two fights in exchange.
It was obviously her fault.
So why was she sitting alone in her bathtub, nauseated and trembling, unable to stop staring at the marks on her skin? Why couldn't she stop imagining the brief, terrifying flash of satisfaction she swore sometimes crossed his face whenever his mercurial fingers shifted her gasps into grimaces? Why did she feel like her bones were dissolving, like she was slowly caving in on herself one shaky breath at a time? Why did she feel so pathetically, inconsequentially, crushingly small?
The sound of the front door swinging open made her stiffen. "Sorry, guys!" she heard Bonnie's wry voice call out from the living room, and she immediately abandoned the bottle of wine in her hand, straightening up and scrubbing a hand over her face. "I don't want to interrupt the love nest, I just need to grab my—" Bonnie halted in the bathroom door, face crumpling at the sight of Caroline huddled in the bathtub in her underwear, "…curling iron."
Caroline's face broke into a fiercely bright smile. "Hey, girl!"
"Hey." The reply was puzzled, hesitant—Bonnie knew her well enough to know the bathtub never meant anything good. She blinked for a second before casting a glance over her shoulder. "Where's Matt?"
"Oh, you just missed him—he left about an hour ago." Her stare slowly shifted back to her, and Caroline felt her lips struggling to hold her smile. "He said have a safe flight."
Bonnie gave a slow nod, eyes fixed below her face, and it took Caroline a second to remember he'd grabbed her by the neck. Hard. She shot an instinctive hand up to her throat, blocking it from view, and Bonnie's stare flickered. "Care…"
Tears pricked at her eyes and she averted them. "It's nothing."
Bonnie dropped her bag on the floor and approached the tub, and Caroline wrapped her arms around her body to try and hide it, hot with shame, bracing for the inevitable reaction. It came in the form of a sharp intake of breath. "Caroline," Bonnie gasped, stopping about a foot from the tub in shock, and Caroline shoved a nervous hand through her hair.
"It's not what it looks like."
"Like hell it isn't," Bonnie replied, stare raking over the constellation of deep, burgundy bruises spanning her upper thigh in horror, and before Caroline could give another instinctive negation, could throw out a tinny 'I bruise really easily!', could invent some kind of accident that shifted the blame, her phone began buzzing against the sink. Even from a distance, she saw the name 'Matt' flashing on the screen.
Furious, Bonnie surged over to the sink and swiped it up, and Caroline felt her veins flood with panic. "Bonnie, no!"
"Matt," Bonnie hissed in greeting, voice wavering with rage, and she whirled around to look at Caroline. Upon catching sight of her desperate face, however, she froze.
"Please," Caroline whispered, shaking her head no, tears hot against her cheeks. "Just… just not yet." Bonnie held her stare for a long, heart-breaking beat before drawing in a tight breath.
"Hey," she said over the phone, pushing a stiff hand through her hair. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just…" she closed her eyes, running her hand over her face, and Caroline felt her heart racing in her chest, "I actually just got some really shitty news about my mom, and I'm not really sure how to deal with it, and I really need my best friend right now, so I was wondering if you could just talk to her tomorrow."
Her chest loosened in a wave of relief.
Bonnie's stare sharpened slightly, jaw locking. "Yeah, I know she has a test tomorrow." Her lips pressed into a humorless line, fingers tight around the phone. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." A long beat. "She's in the shower right now, but I'll let he—" she let out a sharp sigh at what was likely an interruption, hand closing into a fist. "Matt. I need my fucking friend, alright? Just give me tonight. You'll survive."
She hung up without waiting for a response and proceeded to shut the phone off. Caroline stared at her hands, unable to bring herself to look her in the eye. Bonnie had always known Matt could be intense—she'd overheard enough of their fights to have a sense for that—but Caroline knew she'd never seen her quite like this. No one had.
She didn't know what to expect. Her skin burned with a paradoxical mixture of denial and shame. Was Bonnie mad at her? Was she mad at herself? Was she responsible for letting it happen, for letting it get to this point? She simultaneously wanted to convince her that it was all a misunderstanding and cry out all of the pent up emotions she'd been hiding, but before she could make a call, Bonnie's arms were around her, pulling her into a quiet, gentle hug.
And that was all it took for her to crack. She didn't know how long she cried. Minutes, hours—time blurred, dusk faded into night, and Bonnie merely sat with her in the tub, stroking her hair and occasionally murmuring that it was going to be okay. When Caroline finally managed to ease her sobs into the occasional hitched breath, she shot Bonnie a watery look.
"I'm s-so sorry."
Bonnie shook her head. "Care, you have nothing to be sorry about."
"No, no, I…" she swallowed, slowly pushing herself up to a full sitting position and letting out a strained little laugh. "This is my stupid melodrama and I dragged you into it and—"
"Caroline," Bonnie said firmly, pushing herself up along the side of the tub with a serious expression, "I don't know what you're going through right now, and I'm not going to pressure you to talk about anything you don't want to talk about. But please, please know," she reached forward to take light hold of her shoulders, giving her a loaded stare, "this isn't stupid. This is the antithesis of stupid. This is completely, heartbreakingly serious, and if he's somehow made you feel like any part of this is a joke, he's lying. The last thing this is is a joke."
Caroline merely stared at her, struggling not to start crying again—God, she was so sick of fucking crying—and before she could crack, she gave a quick nod and cleared her throat. "Can we talk about something else?"
Bonnie's expression softened. "Whatever you want." Caroline kept her bleary eyes on her trembling hands, struggling to come up with a topic, and after a long beat of silence, Bonnie slowly leaned forward. "Did you see yesterday's Real Housewives?"
Caroline slipped into a hoarse laugh. Bonnie hated The Real Housewives. "Orange County or Atlanta?"
Bonnie scoffed. "You know Hotlanta is the only way I roll."
Caroline's lips took on a weak smile. "No, I missed yesterday's." She waved a tired hand, smile straining. "Matt and all." Bonnie nodded, biting her bottom lip, and Caroline let out a shaky sigh. "I mean, I was supposed to be studying all weekend anyway, so… wouldn't have seen them either way."
Bonnie's brow furrowed. "Right, your final's tomorrow."
Caroline sighed, dropping her head against her knees. "I'm going to bomb it, Bon."
"You don't know that."
"Oh, but I do," Caroline said with a weak laugh. "I have twelve chapters left to cover and three of them are brand new."
Bonnie straightened up and checked her watch. "What time's your test?"
Her shoulders lifted into a vague shrug. "Nine."
"Nine," Bonnie repeated, eyes narrowing in brief calculation before she reached back and pushed herself up to her feet. Caroline's brow furrowed.
"What are you doing?"
"Switching my flight," Bonnie replied, stepping out of the tub and heading over to her abandoned bag, and Caroline lifted her head off her knees in alarm.
"What?"
"It's 8:30 now, which means that factoring in the time it'll take to get to campus, we have exactly twelve hours to get you ready to kick this final's ass."
Caroline merely blinked. "Bon, no, you're—" she shook her head as Bonnie fished out her phone and began typing away, baffled, "—you're done with the semester, people are expecting you back home, I can't—"
"Too late—done," she said, lips quirking at the corners, though her brow promptly furrowed. "Actually, should I fly out tomorrow night, or are we going to want to go out to celebrate your slayage?" At Caroline's dumbfounded silence, she nodded, lifting a finger. "You're right—figure that out later. Let's start with reinforcements."
She tapped her phone and brought it up to her ear, chewing her lip. "Lockwood," she said after a beat, "I need you to peace out of whatever party you're terrorizing freshman at and pick up literally every source of caffeine you can find from the 7-Eleven. Yep. Caroline's got a final tomorrow." Her brow furrowed after a second. "Obviously. And sour worms, too. And twizzlers." Her eyes flashed with attitude. "Do not snack shame me." She shot Caroline a 'can you believe this guy' look before turning around and waltzing out of the bathroom. "Oh, and see if the Delts have one of those study bibles for Micro…"
Caroline merely stared at the empty doorway, thoroughly overwhelmed, chest tight, tears once again pricking at her eyes, but this time they were from an entirely different emotion. She was so grateful she could burst. She'd been convinced her night would be her alone in their apartment, dreading the break of day, drinking cheap wine till she finally managed to pass out and forget for a while.
Instead, her night was Bonnie acting out vocab terms through overzealous interpretive dance, Tyler coming up with wildly inappropriate mnemonic devices for all the different laws, a constantly brewing pot of coffee, sixteen different heart-attack-waiting-to-happen snack options, and more five-hour-energy shots than should've been survivable. Tyler passed out on the armchair at about 5 AM, drooling on a stack of flashcards, but Bonnie somehow stuck it out till the bitter end, even going so far as to make her a 'healthy breakfast!' of pop tarts and runny eggs.
Caroline managed to survive the class with a B+.
A few months later, she would manage to survive Matt, too.
What she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to survive, wasn't sure she'd ever want to survive, was a life where her best friend and knight in 5-foot armor wasn't Bonnie high-kick-means-appreciating-asset-droppin'-it-low-means-depreciating-asset Bennett.
Bonnie was convinced of it. One, because she was pretty sure she was about to have a seizure, and two, because she was pretty sure her and Caroline’s newest neighbor was actually Satan. She’d never actually seen him before—the semester had just started a few weeks ago and he’d moved in a few days late—but she didn’t need to see him. Hearing him was more than enough.
EDM music. Constantly.
Thunderous, robotic bass lines. Shrill laser sounds. Treble that built and built and built to some obnoxious high-pitched climax like it was a friggin’ porn star. Dub-step. Constantly. They were barely into sophomore year and Bonnie was already ready to switch schools. Caroline, who was half-android and could work through pretty much anything, didn’t seem to mind it much, and even mentioned that she’d run into him a couple of times outside the shower stalls and he was pretty hot.
Bonnie didn’t care. He could be Idris Elba. He could be Jason Momoa. Hell, he could be Khal friggin’ Drogo and Bonnie would tell him to take his music and his Dothraki army and shove them up his ass. And that’s precisely what she was about to do.
It’s was just past eight PM, and students were milling around Evans Hall in various states of sprawl—some studying, some heading out for dinner, some coming back from dinner—but Bonnie was a girl on a mission. She had her Gryffindor sweater on and her Beyoncé socks pulled up to her knees and she was ready to fuck this dude’s day up.
Or, you know, to write the RA a strongly worded letter.
She walked right up to the door across from theirs and knocked. Hard.
Nothing.
Probably couldn’t hear her over the apocalyptic thrum of the base line.
“Hey!” she called out, rapping her knuckles even harder on the door, and when she once again got no response, she started all out, two-handed banging, rattling the door on its hinges. The music suddenly cut out in a glorious rush of silence, and she heard muffled rustling on the other side of the door.
After a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal a jockish-looking guy with tanned skin, dark eyes, and jet black hair poking out of a backwards baseball cap. He gave Bonnie a quick onceover before nodding amicably. “Sup, neighbor.”
She slid a brow up. “You know who I am?”
“Sure. You live right there.” He nodded at their open door. “You fall asleep with your door open like all the time.”
She felt a flicker of embarrassment cut through her anger—damn, she really needed to stop passing out while studying. “Okay, well as your neighbor—”
“Do you exclusively sleep in onesies?”
A glimpse at the latest flashback I’m cookin’ up! Catch the other ones here.
Wow your vids get better and better; the voice overs for me are the things that elevate them to the next level. I have watched the Damon one a few times and have questions:
I JUST FOUND THIS BURIED IN MY INBOX I’M SO SORRY WHY DOES JANET PUT UP WITH ME I HONESTLY DON’T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE.
Does Damon now have a last name or did Lily keep her maiden name when she married? I am glad you kept Lily as Damon’s mum because I thought Annie was a perfect casting even if her story line on TVD was complete bobbins.
Lily kept her maiden name. As I’m sure you know already. Because you sent this to me like six evolutionary eras ago. I’m going to fly off a cliff. (And yeah, I didn’t and still don’t understand wtf a Lily Salvatore was in canon).
Do he and Katherine part on good terms? Is she going to show up later on SMA (with Tyler)? When I saw the video, my split second reaction was “Whoa she looks like Elena” so kudos for that.
Yeah, definitely still on good terms. Katherine’s kind of this wild card that comes in and out of his life as she pleases. There was definitely a time where he was convinced he was in love with her, and that strained things a bit, but all in all, they were always there for each other when it counted. Not always in the healthiest ways, and not always in the ways they really needed each other to be, but there nonetheless, and in lives full of constant upheaval, that meant a lot to both of them. I think Tyler played a pretty big role in making their relationship stabler/healthier, too.
How amazing is Damon as a reluctant big bro to Tyler. Baby Tyler is adorable; I hope we find out more about the 2 of them. Is Mayor Lockwood an abuser too? Holy crap, who vets foster families in the US?
I had to keep big bro Damon from canon. Like hopefully a much better big bro, lmao, but a big bro nonetheless. And going into that vid, I knew I had to make baby Tyler the cutest damn thing on earth so who better to do that than baby Posey? Re: Mayor Lockwood, I basically plucked his character straight out of canon so definitely abusive. I feel like the whole reason he even took in a foster kid was to help clean up his belligerent alcoholic image for his reelection bid, and that’s how they ended with Damon. I’m sure whoever was vetting saw a shiny well-to-do political family and thought Damon hit the jackpot, honestly, but obviously it didn’t play out that way :/
Your bad boy Damon is so sympathetic, I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and take him home. I like that you went with a complicated back story for him and Bon whereas Caroline and Stefan’s are simpler, but also heartbreaking. I don’t know, these 4 are all kind of fucked up and honestly I just love all of it. Thank you again for everything you do with this fic. It’s so much fun to read/watch/whatever you do over gifs. I’m in awe of your talent (sorry if that sounds like fawning, it’s not).
Gaaaaah, girl, I can only hope you still feel this way 60000 years later (honestly I can’t even believe this slipped past me radar) but thanks so friggin’ much. It doesn’t sound like fawning it sounds like THE NICEST THING EVER so unless you want to apologize for making me insanely happy, get outta here with your ‘sorry’. Psh. And yessss, that’s totally what I’m trying to get at with these four characters overall - they’re all messy. They all have different flaws and cracks and heartbreaks. They’ve all been through wildly different degrees of shit, and it doesn’t matter who’s had it better or who’s had it worse, shit is shit and it’s going to affect the hell out of whoever’s going through it. BUT no matter how broken they think they are, there’s still a ton of light and joy left in the world and I’m going to hurl it at them like a tantrumy toddler until they’re all okay.
The Sleep of the Righteous - a SMA Bamon post Snowpocalypse drabble
I adored the ask about sleeping positions and I was inspired to write a drabble. I have also been kind of desperate to write a bit of Damon because he seems like a real challenge compared to the other three. Just know that in this fic, he’s head over heels in love with Bon and consequently somewhat of a sap. In addition, I’ve given him an affectionate nickname that I totally stole from Ziya (@atonalremix) and her amazing fic – A Normal Life. For those that love the idea of an ethnicity switched warlock Damon, you should read this. I have a Steroline idea as well if people are interested.
***
For the third night in a row, Damon awoke in the small hours of the morning, a cold breeze blowing across his bare arse. If Bonnie hadn’t been so damn endearing, he probably would have killed her by now. Damon would never admit this, he had a rep as a bit of a party animal after all, but he needed his sleep. Admittedly, he tended to catch up at weekends, but a solid 6-7 hours on weekdays was better than any caffeine hit.
He rolled over onto his side, languidly, eyes turned towards his petite bed companion. In true Bonnie style, she was curled up on her side resembling a foetus in her OBGYN textbooks. His duvet was wrapped entirely around her like a protective cocoon. An expensive cocoon, his bedding came from an exclusive boutique on Newbury Street where the thread counts were as high as the prices. He leant over gently pushing her hair from her eyes. Her face was peaceful in sleep, carefree and surprisingly youthful. He smiled; there was no way he was going to risk waking her by nicking his covers back. If Damon was a grinch on too little sleep, Bonnie was a grizzly bear woken too early from hibernation.
He eased his lithe, naked frame from the bed. Maybe he needed to leave his heating on at night? It was habit picked up from one of a string of foster homes. These particular foster parents had been tight as a gnat’s chuff, seeing fostering as a cash injection rather than a vocation. But Damon being Damon had never complained, stubborn bastard that he was and had come to enjoy the feeling of sleeping under a huge pile of blankets with only the back of his neck exposed to the brisk night air.
The skin on his arm puckered, hairs standing on end. He contemplated slipping into a T shirt and sweatpants as he didn’t own any pyjamas. Half of Bon’s wardrobe was comfy lounge wear; the idea of him not owning anything of that ilk perplexed her no end. He grinned remembering their argument about him keeping some pyjamas at her apartment “just in case”, of what he had no idea, maybe Stefan would get upset, being exposed to his Adonis-like perfection? Hadn’t seemed to bother him before. Anyway, whatever, he couldn’t sleep in clothes, he hated the restricted feeling.
Sauntering into the second bedroom of his swanky apartment, Damon homed in on a large built cupboard that gave Caroline some serious real estate envy. At the very back lay a ratty old duvet that had seen better days, it’s bright, printed colours faded, it’s poly cotton surface worn smooth with years of use. He remembered the day he had acquired it like it was yesterday:
“Tyler, bro, I’m not taking your spiderman duvet to college. People will laugh at me.”
“But you need something to sleep under! Chicago winters are cold; it’s called the Windy City for a reason. And I know you won’t have any money to buy new stuff. Margaret and Jeff made it pretty clear they weren’t helping you out. Besides I’m 14, it’s not cool anymore.”
“I suppose I could pass it off as an ironic retro statement, but Ty, your mom gave you that duvet.”
“I know,” Tyler’s eyes had flickered for a millisecond. “Let me do this, Day. You’re my brother.”
“Okay, well, I promise to look after it for you until you want it back.” He had pulled Tyler into a manly hug, studiously ignoring the sheen in the younger boy’s eyes, a pang of guilt that he was leaving him in that hell hole and moving on with his life.
He would never admit to Tyler that his gift had probably saved his life on a couple of occasions when he had had sleep in his car in sub-zero temperatures. Ironic that tonight it would save him from Bonnie’s murderous urges should he try and ferret back under the covers. Without further ado, Damon slid back into bed, naked as the day his was born. He settled himself on his stomach, arms under his pillow and drifted off into a deep sleep.
***
AN: Damon may or may not have gone to college in Chicago, but that’s what he told the authorities he was doing so he could slip out of the foster system. Maybe this is why he has two identities?
LMAO CAN I JUST SAY I totally called that a drabble would come out of that ask? CALLED IT! And I’m so, so, so happy it did! This was adorable from start to finish - I realized I haven’t actually written any future/established Bamon yet and unsurprisingly, you totally nailed it anyway. The contrast in pajama situations was hilarious, as was Bonnie being the real threat on not enough sleep. Super IC. And re: his sappiness, I aaaabsolutely see Damon as a smitten planet orbiting the fierce, tiny little sun that is Bonnie once they get together, so sappiness all the way! You’re definitely right, he can be one of the trickier PoVs to slip into (particularly at first), and it can be tough to reveal things about him without making it feel unnatural, but you did it beautifully! Loved the rumination on the foster homes and the lack of heating and how he was always too much of a stubborn asshole to complain - trrrueeeee life. And needless to say I loooooooooved the Tyler/Damon stuff! And the nickname was so, so cute! Ugh, all the brother feels. I’ve been marathoning The Fosters and it’s been giving me Tyler/Damon feels LIKE WHOA (like I would love to write a whole series about them in their teens, man) so this drabble couldn’t be better timed. I actually haven’t really figured out Damon’s college situation, but I’ve thought about it a bit. It’s either being tackled in chapter 15 or 16, but your interpretation is super possible! Anyway, this made my day and I love these drabbles so, so much, man. Y’all don’t even know. Please give this and Janet the love they deserveeeeee, guys!
