#we had to pause for a while due to scheduling conflicts which was very sad

[sols-actual-main-blog]

DnD sunday coming up and i am EXCITED

[mc-lukanette]

I haven’t watched the new episode but I heard it was awful. Do you have a fix-it that I can pretend is canon?

- Marinette is stressed, and extremely so; her schedule is more hectic and the kwami have been keeping her busy with teaching her any guardian rules/lessons they know from their limited knowledge that she might not have gotten from Fu since he hadn’t had the time to teach her due to what happened.

- Because of these factors, her dates with Luka have often been interrupted and constantly replanned, only the cinema date being anywhere near complete due to her giving him the guitar pick necklace. Luka is trying to be respectful and not pry, but can’t help being disappointed whenever she leaves.

- Eventually, Luka talks to her on the matter, concerned for where she goes and how she always seems anxious when she does. Marinette assures him that she adores him, but she has... things that she has to do, and even though she wishes so badly for it to be different, she’s forced into this situation and she’s so sorry for it.

- Luka is pained by the secret she’s forced to keep, but gives her a sad smile and ends the conversation there. She can tell that he’s putting on a brave face from the slump as he walks away.

- Later on, Marinette is walking down an empty street, muttering to Tikki about the situation, when an unfamiliar form descends from above and lands in front of her. Tikki quickly conceals herself and Marinette goes on the defensive, recognizing that this must be an akuma. “Who are you, and what do you want with me?!”

- The akuma reaches out... and gently takes her hand in his. “We have a date planned today, Marinette, and I want to make sure that we get to finish it this time.” “...W-what? Wait--Luka?”

- In that instance, someone from a distance screams at the sight of the akumatized Luka, yelling for someone to call Ladybug. Luka faces them, muttering, “You’re disrupting us,” his sentimonster helper using their ability to make the person and even the phone they were trying to use go completely silent, much to their shock. Roger, who was nearby at the time, approaches and gives a speech about defending Paris, then tries to attack Luka, but Luka uses his own power to flash Roger back to where he was a minute ago (meaning Luka’s sentimonster is an equivalent to Silencer whereas Luka himself is similar to Viperion); this happens to put Roger in the middle of the street - where he’d originally been directing traffic - and he has to dodge an oncoming car.

- “Luka!” Marinette states, panicked. “You can’t do this! You’re akumatized, you’re not thinking!” In response, Luka settles his hand on her shoulder. “I’m thinking perfectly well, and all I can think is about how you’re so burdened by something that I could never help you with. Now I can, and I’ll stop anyone or anything from bothering you or interrupting us, so we can have the date you deserve.”

- It’s at that moment that Marinette realizes that this akuma literally just wants her to have a nice time and that’s the sweetest freaking thing she’s ever heard.

- She can’t help being torn. On one hand, this is an akuma who will inevitably cause havoc, and she stops akuma as Ladybug... but on the other, this is Luka and she’s so touched and this is an offer for them to finally have a date not interrupted by an akuma because he IS an akuma, and she’s felt so bad ditching him before so this is a chance to remedy that.

- Marinette can see Tikki peering at her judgementally from her purse, but the opportunity is too tempting to pass up and Marinette agrees to go on a date with him, exciting Luka as he enthusiastically tugs her closer so they can walk together.

- Cue montage of Luka recreating their dates, though this time where she can actually enjoy them without interruption. Luka and his sentimonster occasionally use their powers and Marinette clearly hesitates, but he dotes on her so much that it’s hard for her to not want to continue their dates.

- Meanwhile, Shadow Moth probably: Wh--where the heck is Ladybug???? (there’s also probably a moment where Luka mentions Shadow Moth and Marinette uses the opportunity to gather some information)

- During one of the recreated dates, Chat Noir shows up and manages to snatch Marinette away, jumping up and out of harm’s way while trying to find a place to hide. He ducks into an alleyway and is about to go on about how neat his save was when Marinette huffs and asks, “What do you think you’re doing?!” “...U-uh, saving you?” “I didn’t need saving! We were on a date!” “You were on a what now.” “Chat Noir, it’s very rude to interrupt someone’s date. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I’m still stuck on the fact that you said you were dating an akuma--”

- At that moment, a hand clamps down on Chat Noir shoulder. He stiffens and turns, seeing Luka there and very much not happy. Luka squints, asking lowly, “What did you call her?”

- Chat Noir can only weakly look back at Marinette, who waves apologetically at him right before he’s yeet’d off into the distance. The sentimonster gives chase.

- Marinette does eventually leap into action as Ladybug once she recognizes that okay this was amazing and incredible and I’m officially de-stressed but Luka is akumatized and there is definitely a rule against Ladybug dating supervillains.

- Naturally, when Ladybug arrives, Luka’s first concern is what happened to Marinette. Ladybug tries to get him to back down and points out that he won’t even remember any of this once de-akumatized, but Luka insists that, “It’s okay. Marinette will remember.”

- Ladybug is internally like okay but can you not, I’m trying to fight you here and you’re making it difficult.

- Ladybug tries to negotiate/convince Luka into getting de-akumatized, until Chat Noir shows up on the scene again, the sentimonster following after. The fight itself is significally difficult and limiting; if they make any loud, disruptive noises, they’ll be silenced, but if they try to fight Luka directly/physically, he can zap them back to where they were a minute prior; knowing Luka, he could even engineer it so that one of them perhaps gets trapped if they’re not careful.

- Post-deakumatization, Marinette meets up with Luka and gives him a long overdue kiss. Luka is stunned, having been prepared to apologize for getting akumatized, and asks her what he did to deserve it, to which Marinette explains that he’s amazing and she’s happy to have him.

- They end up talking and Luka apologizes for trying to pry about her secret, but explains about his dad and the mystery behind his identity (foreshadowing the conflict for a future episode: I'd have the whole Jagged thing be a different episode so it gets proper focus). Marinette insists that she understands and he has nothing to apologize for, but pauses and laments that their dates might very well continue to be interrupted.

- Luka hesitantly starts to ask if she thinks it’d be best if they broke up, but Marinette cuts him off to insist otherwise. She wants to make this work with him but it’s complicated and she literally (stressing that it’s not a trust issue) cannot tell him why she leaves all the time. Luka smiles reassuringly and points out that a perfect song doesn’t exist and that every song goes through edits. Marinette asks what he means and Luka explains that he can’t help wanting to be selfish and spend time with her, but also that the knowledge of them dating is enough.

- Marinette, considering this, realizes that - yeah - not going on dates doesn’t mean they can’t be in a loving relationship, and maybe they can stop planning dates and get together right after she deals with akuma instead. She’s been a mess because of stress and that’s caused even more problems, so it doesn’t make sense to cause herself more stress by breaking up with Luka; she needs to take care of herself.

- The episode ends with Marinette in her room, some of the kwami being a bit chaotic/loud but Marinette being completely unphased and talking excitedly to Luka on the phone about their recent date “after that crazy akuma attack,” as Luka can’t hear the kwami due to their voices not breaking through technology.

[chrisevansbabymama]

Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.2

Here is the second instalment, at long last! Still using the same gif as the previous, as it’s still the same night. The more time I sat on this chapter, the more time I’ve had to tweak it and change it from the original draft, so it’s still slightly longer than usual - all 4,288 words, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for being so patient. 

_______

Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4.2 - He’s Just Not That Into You:

“I gotta say,” Chris said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, suddenly very coy.

It’d been a mere five minutes since they’d left the restaurant and were walking in the direction towards her house. They’d delved in and out of a couple of topics, including Mya and Dodger who Chris confessed to be missing, but was trying his best to not be on ‘daddy mode.’ Kayla found that so cute, and could see he had been honest when he’d said he wanted to get out more and put himself out there, it seemed his internal battle was learning to let go of his dependants. Whatever putting himself ‘out there’ meant for him, she supposed she could only be happy for him.

“Mmmh?” Kayla asked when the pause was a second too long.

“I’ve just...I’ve had a pretty good night tonight,”

Kayla pressed her lips together to hide a smile, her heart fluttering at the way he casually dropped the compliment. Here she was thinking that he would have given up anything to be anywhere else. His warm eyes met hers, but with the look he wore she could discern that there was more to it. She wasn’t going to interrogate him and make it awkward, if he wanted to, she was sure he would say it.

And she hadn’t been wrong about there being more to it; it was more of a feeling than Chris could put into words. It was a weird, funny feeling he felt; elation somewhat laced with anxiety. The good kind.

“It was nice to finally get out of my suite and do something that’s not work related, or taking the kids out,” he said, referring to his two kids – Mya and Dodger.

Then his stomach twisted as guilt washed over him for confessing that he enjoyed his time without them.

“It’s okay,” Kayla looked at him reassuringly. She could sense his aura change in the same way that her siblings’ would when they talked about finding space and a life outside of their kids. “To do things without them, you’re not neglecting them. Call it self-care,”

“Yes ma’am,” he nudged her gently with his elbow, relaxing at her encouragement.

Kayla was smiling too now but she looked ahead in the direction they were heading, “Y’say you had a good night as if you are surprised that I’m good company,”

“Not that, I wasn’t surprised,” he quickly corrected, appreciating the humour to lighten up the threatening sombre mood. “I just mean that I didn’t realise how busy the whole team was, that I never really got a chance to know you properly since you joined us,”

“Relax Hollywood, you’re sweating,”

As usual, comedy was her go-to defensive mechanism so that he couldn’t see the effect his words had on her, because she was more than flattered that he actually enjoyed being alone with her. At least that’s what she was going to take from his statement.

“You are right, I mean this whole thing took off so quickly for me, I haven’t even processed it,”

Kayla recalled to the day she got a call from his assistant Tiffany, asking if she was able to assist on a photo shoot the following day. His previous make-up artist had gone on maternity leave and he had been booked on a last minute cover shoot, so they needed someone to groom just for that one day. But a photo shoot turned into a contract for several projects, then she was hired on for the Lobby Hero and possibly Infinity War press; but the later was still TBC due to his conflicting schedule. She prayed that he was going to do a few rounds of press for it, otherwise her work with him was coming to an end in less than a couple of weeks.

Once he starts Lobby Hero, that was going to be it, and then he would start filming the last Avengers instalment not too long after. He had spoken about going to Boston in the small gap before filming. He was very much a family-oriented man, Kayla accepted the fact that once he was in Boston, he would shut the rest of the world out. Especially his Hollywood life; which she was a part of.

So yes, whilst he didn’t overtly say he only enjoyed spending time with her alone; Kayla convinced herself that he was implying just that, because it was probably the first and last time she would ever be alone with him like this.

Chris nodded, “It’s crazy, it’s such a fast-paced industry you never get a chance to slow down. I’m glad we got that tonight. You were pleasant enough,”

His devil may care tone at the last statement earned him a sharp glare and a heavy sigh, enough to make Chris retract.

“London, I’m joking,” he said quickly putting an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

He was incredibly tactile, this she had learnt very early on since the first time she worked with him; the hugs, the gentle touch on her upper arm when he was trying to squeeze past her, the tap against her leg when he was laughing hysterically. Her favourite touch was when he would gently squeeze or rub her shoulders on a long day of interviews. He would comfort her with a “almost there London,” as if she was the celebrity ready to retire from the repetitive questions.

So this was nothing.

It didn’t feel like nothing though. It felt nice. It felt like she belonged there, flush against him.  

When she didn’t respond he wrapped her in his arms in the biggest teddy bear hug he could muster, gently swaying her.

“Talk to me,” he sing-songed.

“Please say something,” he was starting to worry that he’d upset her. “I’m not used to you not having anything to say back,”

Kayla’s voice came out muffled as she breathed against his chest, “You’re so annoying!”

“There she is,” he finally laughed in relief, drawing back from the hug but still held onto her, this time he slid his hands down her arms until her held her hands, studying her but he failed to suss her out.

Please kiss me, she thought, glancing at his lips.

Chris considered it. She was only a few inches away, he could do it seamlessly if he wanted. But he didn’t know if she would like that. She looked away quickly before he could even suggest to her that he was going to kiss her.

But Kayla had only looked away because she noticed the make-up stain she’d left on his shirt when he’d squeezed her against his chest. Too embarrassed to confront it, despite her boldness towards him, she figured that some things were better left unsaid. If she brought attention to it, she knew he would be put off. He’d always been vocal about being a simple guy, liking his women natural - your girl next door type*. Hence why she’d gone for the ‘no make-up, make-up’ look tonight, to look as natural as she could for him.

Patriarchy 2 – 0 Kayla.

“Your hands are cold,” he said quietly deflecting the tension brewing from the assumed rejection, squeezing her hands gently but firm in an attempt to warm them up.

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, shaking off the thought of the very close encounter. “You were right, it’s cold,”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he said shrugging his coat off and swung it around her, he held onto the lapel.

“I didn’t want you to say ‘I told you so,’” she pouted childishly. “You don’t have to do that Chris, you’re gonna get sick - that blazer is not gonna keep you warm. And we can’t have you sick and cancelling all your work commitments,”

“Maybe that’s the plan, I deserve some time off. A little flu never hurt anybody,” he shrugged with a wink.

“No seriously, Keith will kill me,”

He titled his head and studied her, before saying, “Why thank you Chris for this coat, you’re such a gentleman,”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t sound like that,” and then laughed at his attempt at her voice, before finally accepting the coat and sliding her arms into the sleeves, letting out an earnest, “Thank you.”

“And now you can’t say I’m not a nice guy,”

“Wait, what?” Kayla laughed with uncertainty. “I have never said you’re not a nice guy,”

Chris smirked, giving her a side-glance that she couldn’t read, but one thing for sure was it was so sexy.

“I don’t know, sometimes I get a feeling that you hate me,”

“I don’t hate you, I just enjoy knocking you down a pedestal or two. Keeps you grounded,”

He smiled.

“Works like a charm,”

“Besides, if I hated it being on your team, I’d have left within a second, believe me,”

“Well, wouldn’t want that,” he commented, eyeing the coat on her before doing up the buttons that he had disregarded when he had been wearing it. “Want me to get you an Uber home?”

“No, unless I’m boring you?”

“Ha, never that,” he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and eyed the pavement as they paced in unison. “I was thinking that since you’re not going to die of hypothermia now that you have my coat, maybe we should do something spontaneous,”

Kayla eyed him suspiciously, frowning and raising a questioning eyebrow.

Chris looked at her nonchalantly, his eyes glazed with a mischievous shimmer.

“I’m worried,”

He laughed softly, “Nah it’ll be fun, nothing to worry about,”

“You’re making me nervous, how spontaneous? On a scale of 1-10?”

“Uhm...8...”

“Go on,” her tone was still doubtful.

“Let’s go catch a film,”

“I don’t understand,” she was dumbfounded.

“I really don’t wanna end the night,” coyness really suited him. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, his face turning a shade of pink again. “Remember when we were teenagers – well, I don’t know about you, but I used to sneak out at night and I’d always make sure I’d stay out as late as possible and make the most of it. I knew if my mom caught me out, I’d never be allowed again for a while…tonight’s kinda like that. But instead of my mom, work’s going to occupy my time and I might not get a chance to do this again until I finish Lobby Hero. So if you still care to spend the rest of the evening with me; what do you say we go watch a film?”

Kayla felt sad. His face was a shimmering look of hope, like a child asking to go to Disneyland; which was the source of her sadness. Why did going to the theatre excite him so much? Something so normal and regular to her, and took for granted, for Chris normalcy was a luxury, it seemed.

“Uhmm...I thought you said spontaneous,” there she was again with the humour, she cringed immediately, realising this wasn’t the time.

“Uhmm yeah it is, for me anyway....” he shrugged casually and looked ahead.

“Chris?” she wanted to ask him if he was okay. Maybe the magazine event he’d been too had been a negative reinforcement of the cons of his job, as he had mentioned earlier that he barely knew anyone there and had to endure it, in the name of good press.

“Mhhh?”

“Yes,” she said, she deflected. “I mean, yes, let’s go watch a film. I’m a little overdressed though,”

He smiled so brightly that her concern for his wellbeing vanished, “You sure?” she nodded. “Honey, we’ve both been overdressed since that restaurant,”

“Maybe I should go home and change my shoes and get my coat so you can have yours back,”

“Everything you just said defeats the whole ‘spontaneous’ part, I usually have to go to the theatre dressed in a hoodie and baseball cap. I go miles to be incognito, tonight, I’m living on the wild side,” he retrieved his phone from his trousers pocket. “I’m getting an Uber as we speak,”

Kayla considered this: never imagining the first time alone with Chris in a dark room would be in a movie theatre. She had to admit, it would be fun to sit in such a close proximity in the dark. They’d both missed their opportunity to kiss the other just several minutes ago; maybe fate was giving them another chance.

“ See anything you like, London?” Chris shifted from his window seat to the middle, minutes later as they sat in the back of the Uber exec. He held the phone so they could both see the movie listings.

If she was going to be honest, none of the films stood out for her but this wasn’t about her. So she looked on as he scrolled slowly, thinking more about her strategy on dealing with being in the dark lit room with him. What better way to get up close and personal than a film? It was the perfect set up for that missed kiss; she pictured it so vividly: his arm would surreptitiously snake around her shoulder as he pretended to yawn and disregard the film before making a move on her. She had seen this scene many times in films that she was even surprised Chris was going to be this predictable.

Annihilation, Irreplaceable You, Peter Rabbit, she read the listings…Fifty Shades Freed.

“Game Night?” he offered after several debates.

Kayla looked at the poster on his screen and glanced up at Chris, “So much for spontaneity, Chris no offence but if you were to die tonight and I was to read your eulogy about the very last film you saw, you want it to be this?”

“Whoa,” he was genuinely startled. “There’s a lot to unpack there. First of all...actually you are right. I told you I don’t get out much. And second, that’s so deep, why does someone have to die tonight?”

“You thought I was going to get hypothermia,”

“Are you suggesting we watch something a little steamy?” he cocked his eyebrows playfully and gave her a look that she recognised instantly. He was back in form. “Fifty Shades Freed? Is that what you want?”

Kayla shook her head with no witty comeback to rally with him.

“I haven’t seen the other ones,”

“I should hope so, not suitable for kids,”

“Game Night it is, only because you’re annoying me and I’m not gonna give you what you want,”

Chris ignored the double entrendre. Begrudgingly.

Kayla’s imagination has always been very active since her youth. She’d learned to be imaginative as a means to escape from a young age, hence why she has always gravitated towards creative subjects and eventually a career in the arts. When she’d imagined the exciting prospect of being alone in the dark with Chris, what was going to ensure seemed clearly written in the stars. Though a small part of her thought the idea was too far fetched, it became more promising when she realised that they were the only ones in the late showing of Game Night in the theatre.

The ticket purchasing was strategically planned to avoid Chris being spotted by any chance. Judging by how seamless every stage was, she became more optimistic that halfway through the movie he was going to make a move on her, like they did in the movies. She wondered if the sign would come when he either placed his bag of popcorn on the floor or on the seat next to him, yawn and sneakily wrap an arm around her shoulders. Then she imagined he would naturally whisper something in her ear, making her giggle before lifting her chin with his index finger and finally kissing her.

And so it happened:

Half way through the film, he placed his almost empty bag of popcorn on the floor and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Her heart was thudding, leg jiggling nervously, so she crossed them and tried to act normal, as if she didn’t even know what was happening. It was surreal, the adrenalin charged through her that she didn’t even know what to do anymore and feared she wouldn’t give him the kiss of her life.

So Lauren was right. He does like me, she thought, making a mental note to thank her and apologise profusely for dismissing her claims.

“Oh man,” he stifled a yawned and muttered under his breath, becoming increasingly restless.

Everything was going according to plan. And imagination.

A few seconds passed and she didn’t feel an arm on her shoulder, nor did he inch near her. Instead, he inched away, resting his elbow on the other armrest and his chin on his clenched fist. The arm around her shoulder never came. She kept her eyes glued on the screen, watching on in a haze, barely concentrating. She felt sick.

She’d done the calculations, and this wasn’t the outcome she expected.

But then again, Maths was never her strongest subject.

She soon realised he hadn’t been trying to flirt or intend to make a move on her. His eyes were shut and chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She watched him for a few seconds, thinking it was a sick twisted joke, maybe he would crack and burst out into a laugh, and yell “gotcha,” but he was actually in a deep sleep. He didn’t flinch or budge at the reverberating sounds throughout the rest of the film.

That’s when she knew that dream was over. There only so many disappointments one could take and keep sticking around with hope.

“Chris...Chris...” he heard her faint voice in the distance, ignoring it because he thought it was another one of his dreams where she made a regular appearance. He felt a hand on his shoulder, her voice speaking again. “C’mon, we have to go,”

“Hmmm?” He sat up, opening his eyes as they prickled from the glare from the screen ahead. He looked around and saw her. A delightful sight, even if it was slightly dim. “Kayla?”

“Good morning,” she laughed.

What a sound to wake up to, he thought.

“Morning?” he instantly panicked, his mind automatically thinking of Mya and Dodger.

“I’m joking, the movie’s finished. I didn’t wanna wake you up earlier, you looked really comfortable.”

“How much did I miss?”

“Like the last hour,”

“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing his hair back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d sleep,”

“It’s okay,”

“I can’t believe I made you come out to enjoy a movie by yourself,” he grimaced as he voiced his concern, cringing at the thought. “I’m really sorry, I owe you. So much for spontaneity huh? You should have left my ass.”

“Chris, relax. It’s fine; it’s been a long day for you. I sleep through a film all the time,” she waved a hand dismissively.

Still, he felt bad. He had wanted to spend the entire night in her company, (not even in a sexual kind of way) and he had jeopardised that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said to quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Still half asleep,”

“Okay Sleeping Beauty, shall we go?”

“Let’s,”

The wait outside had been icy and awkward. On Kayla’s part, it was the affirmation that he wasn’t that into her, that kept playing on her. She didn’t know how to act around him anymore; scared to give too much of herself away, even though she was already in too deep with her feelings. She now had to negotiate a healthy balance between being herself, as always but not allowing him to sway her. Or flirt with him.

On Chris’ part, he felt like he had let her down; it wasn’t about the kiss – he didn’t suspect it, it was the fact that he had kept her out all night only to fall asleep. He wouldn’t even blame her if she was offended. He worried she would never subject herself to something like this again; imagining that she thought the worst of him. Had it been a date, would he have fallen asleep? Even worse, he felt embarrassed, and he couldn’t even figure out why. Maybe at the realisation that maybe his life was as boring as everyone was implying; so he asked himself, who would want to date that?

Chris insisted on ordering them an Uber each, but Kayla politely insisted she could get her own.  Being the chivalrous charmer he was, Chris didn’t back down easily, but Kayla took the initiative and just booked them both a ride. The drama was unnecessary, this was New York; right in the heart of Manhattan where taxis were aplenty.

But they’d both been cunning; using the Uber excuse to buy more time with each other. As if they had both accepted it was their last goodbye, a closure on the feelings they had harboured for each other. And maybe if they stuck it out a little longer, one of them would bite the bullet and make a move?

“I should give you this,” she said sliding off his coat. “Thank you for letting me wear it tonight,”

“Don’t do that,” he waved a hand. “Take it, it’s cold,”

“There’ll be a heater in the car, I’ll be fine Chris,”

He drew close to her again, politely putting it back on and redoing the buttons she had undone to give it back to him, “Keep it on,”

She sighed, giving in quickly, “Okay, I’ll bring it back on Monday,”

“Okay,” he could careless.

“Here goes your ride,” he squeezed her shoulders as the car pulled up in the waiting bay.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. And thank you for the dinner, I owe you,”

“Yes, you do. You owe me that Pad Thai,” he winked playfully before hugging her briefly. “See you on Monday, London,”

He opened the door for her, guiding her in with his hand on the small of her back.

“Bye Chris,”

It wasn’t long before the car was circling Columbus Circle, routing back to home. Above all, albeit the anti-climactic theatre ordeal, she’d had a good night with Chris. Far beyond her expectations, so what was it going to hurt if they were only going to be friends?

It was all replaying like a movie reel; the laughter, the touches, the anecdotes and his scent. The way he set his eyes on. The way he listened when she spoke. His scent on her, she breathed it in – his coat a vivid reminder of him. A vivid reminder of the way he would wrap his muscled arms around her and never wanted him to let go.

She suddenly remembered the huge make-up stain she’d left on his shirt and cringed.

The moment was over.

She felt her phone vibrate in her bag; she had ignored it the entire night, never one to be glued to it when she was out. That was a lie, she used to be glued to it; always one to take pictures for Instagram until she got bored of over sharing and instead shared her work on it, occasionally peppering her feed with food snaps, selfies, with her family or a cheesy snap on holiday.

She wondered if Chris would follow her on Instagram…or if she had the balls to follow him first.

She took her phone out, her friend’s Instagram post notification the source of the vibration. She scrolled down on the notification centre, opting to read Lauren’s copious messages that she’d missed earlier on when Chris had joined her at the sushi place.

9:49pm

Lauren: Sorry babe, won’t be making it tonight. I’ve been regurgitating my guts all evening. Have fun.

Lies, Kayla thought, trusting Chris that she was probably entangled under the sheets somewhere with Seb.

9:50pm

Lauren: Oh yeah, I purposely forgot to ask Keith and Tiff to come along. Ooops.

9:54pm

Lauren: Because I lied, I’m not sick. I decided not to come, and thought I’d leave Tiff and Keith out of it too. I thought you kids needed the evening to yourselves and I didn’t want to play 3rd wheel tonight. I do it all the time, not doing it tonight. You kids have fun.

9:55

Lauren: So I hope your inadvertent date with Chris goes well.

10:35

Lauren: ....you’re welcome.

11:01

Lauren: No reply? I’m guessing you’re “playing hide the zucchini”? Thank me later.

11:01

Lauren: ps. safety first kids. Love ya xxx

She shook her head in disbelief; too tired to figure out whether she should be angry or laugh. It was less funny now that she knew for sure that Chris only had platonic feelings towards her. She now needed to speak to Lauren sometime in person, figure out a way to politely tell her to stop bringing Chris up. She needed the closure.

As if on cue, his name popped up on the banner of her screen; a strange sight and brand new occurrence. They had never directly communicated with each other via phone, even though they had each other’s numbers. It was always Lauren that organised non-work related occasions, and if it was to do with work, she dealt with Keith and Tiffany. Never him.

His very first text message to her said:

Chris: Let me know when you get in. Thank you again for tonight; I owe you big time, especially for falling asleep.

Kayla: Likewise. Honestly, don’t worry about it lol

She wanted to shut him down, be dismissive but subtle and polite. She wasn’t going to do this again.

Closure, closure, closure, she chanted in her head.

Chris: I insist. I’m a man of my word.

And just like that, her resolution to get over him disappeared. How could she?

_

Chapter 5

_______________

Disclaimer: Gif not my own

Tags: @thegirlwithpaperheart  @disaster-rose @youlifetime @mississippifangirl​ @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio​ @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours@dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations​ @daybreak96​ @l-auteuse​ @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab@melaninmarvel @milkymil-k @dyckvandyke @prettymuchboodup  @i-fear-neither-death-nor-pain @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun

[imagineclaireandjamie]

For FMM- Jamie meets this guy named Murray, that comes from a Scottish family and for the story he tells Jamie he could be a descendant of Jenny and Ian.

Flood my Mornings: Hogmanay 

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment:  Flood my (Christmas) Mornings 

December 31, 1950

“Is it ridiculous that I’m feeling nervous as a girl on the first day of school?” I asked, smoothing my coat with one hand and squeezing Bree’s hand with the other as we waited in the tidy hallway outside the MacAlister’s door. 

“You’ve no reason, lass,” Jamie assured me. I knew he wanted to put his arm around my back, but his hands were full of whisky bottles and Bree’s diaper bag. He did manage to lean in and kiss my cheek. “They’ll take to ye just fine.” 

This particular get-together was long overdue. I’d been delighted to learn about Jamie’s serendipitous meeting with the Irish hurling group, and the subsequent connection with the lone Scot, Charlie MacAlister. Though Jamie had gone several times since to join the game or else get a drink one-on-one with Charlie (apparently a chap after Jamie’s own heart in many ways), the several times we had tried to schedule a family dinner since Halloween, the fates had always seen fit to intervene, with holidays, birthdays, morning sickness, et cetera, et cetera. 

Fitting, though, that at long last, we should be spending this thoroughly Scottish holiday with a thoroughly Scottish (well, Gaelic, collectively) family. 

The door opened with a bang and a roar of “A GOOD NEW YEAR TO YE!!”

Even in the first five seconds of our acquaintance, Charlie MacAlister gave me so strong a recollection of a MacKenzie clansman, I felt like I’d been jolted back into Castle Leoch itself. Jocular, irreverent, fiercely protective and loyal to a fault, those men had alternately vexed and delighted and protected and astounded me with their vigor and kindness and overall enthusiasm for living, in all its forms. 

Perhaps that’s why it didn’t perturb me in the slightest that Jamie’s friend’s choice greeting was to lift me clear off my feet in a massive rib-crushing hug; and even though it was the first time I was laying eyes on the man, I couldn’t help but laugh and hug him back , brimming with warmth and affection at once. “Well, hello to you too!”  I felt Jamie relax behind me: I’d given my permission, so he would not come to my rescue. I thought I could actually sense him grinning.  

“I’m so glad to finally meet ye, Claire!” Charlie boomed as he set me back on the ground, taking me in. “From the way Jamie speaks of ye—” His eyes suddenly lit up and he whipped them up to Jamie with a grin. “Why, ye wicked wee dog, Fraser: ye didna say!!” He threw his head back and roared with, “Meal a naidheachd to ye both!” He straightened to give me a wink. “When are ye due, then, lass?” 

“CHARLIE!!!” barked a red-haired woman behind him, his wife, Saoirse. 

“What? It’s—” Charlie spluttered and made vague gestures between himself and my notably curved belly. “I’m only—” 

“You’re only about making a fool of yourself, Charlie Mac. Keep your mouth shut, if you please?” She gave me an apologetic look that was nonetheless warm and kind. “Please be accepting BOTH our apologies for that great gowl over there.” After greeting Jamie, she turned and swatted her husband hard on the shoulder, her eyes blazing as she said between clenched teeth. “Have you no control over that tongue??”

“I do—and ye tend to like my control of it, lass…” and he bent her head back to kiss her thoroughly. She tried to push him away but she couldn’t resist laughing as his hands roamed and she relented and kissed him back. 

God, this. THIS I’d missed—to see another couple who loved our same kind of irreverence and warmth and informality. Husbands and wives in these times—at least in post-war America—tended to err on the side of reserve in public, bordering on primness. Even Tom and Marian, as dear as they both were to to us, weren’t free with public displays of affection toward each other. Jamie and I tended to act precisely the way we wished and damn whoever should judge us for it, but it was unbelievably refreshing to not be the only ones in the room who would not be scandalized by lewd jokes.

On top of that, “Pregnancy” was considered a rather rude word, in American culture at present. Considering the massive increase in childbearing after the war, this seemed an enormously ridiculous cultural hangup (“be fruitful and multiply, but pretend the penises and vaginas don’t exist”). Those in the family way —as I now found myself—were treated with a delicate, pointed kind of embarrassment, as if to say, ‘look what she’s been doing…Heavens, what if she actually enjoyed it??’ 

I was used to the taboo, of course, having experienced it with Bree, and seen it around me, since; but it was an unexpected kind of relief to have it be so singled out with such joy and goodwill by these new friends. In fact, I was grinning like a prize idiot as I assured them both, “It’s quite alright, really.” I felt a rush of joy and pride at finally being able to share our news. I felt Jamie’s hand resting on my back. “You’ve spotted it right: we are expecting!”

Charlie gave a crow of triumph “I thought you’d been a little shifty these last few months about ‘family’ and things happening next year! When will the wean be arriving, then??”

“Late July,” I said, “or it might be the first of August.”

 Charlie stepped forward to clap both of us on the back, at which Saoirse looked absolutely mortified. I made a point of reassuring her when she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and offer her own comhghairdeas. 

Jamie accepted the hearty congratulations, grinning like a fool himself, “Let’s keep it between us, aye? We havena told Brianna yet.” He nodded at the children, who were already playing on the living room floor. “Perhaps talk in a wee code if it should come up?”

Saoirse nodded agreement. “Wee Nolan has ears like a hare and a mouth like a magpie.” She gave a pointed roll of the eyes. “Wonder who he could possibly be getting it from…?”

It had all the same modern conveniences as our own house, the MacAlister’s little flat, but something about it—the spices, maybe?—or—no, that wasn’t it….Something about it just felt like Scotland. Like home. 

If nothing else, I could see it in Jamie’s posture and manner. As for my own country of birth, I had rarely felt any great attachment to England that went beyond good tea and rolling hills. Home had been wherever I laid my head that night, and between Uncle Lamb, the war, and my experiences in the eighteenth century, I’d certainly spent more of my life amongst strangers than my own proper countrymen. But Jamie was Scotland, through and through, and even this small taste of it—Americanized and quasi-Irish as it might be—was enough to make him glow with an ease that filled my own heart in the seeing. He was happy with our life in Boston, I knew; blissful, even! To have our family together and safe was all he desired; but something about experiencing that deeper home-ness again was a restorative to his soul, and I thanked God for putting Charlie Mac in Jamie’s path. It was pure delight to see the two of them going on in rapid Gaelic, like brothers.

“They’re like two pups together, aren’t they?” Saoirse said fondly, echoing my silent thoughts as she took a seat beside me on the sofa. 

“Indeed they are,” I laughed, looking at them through the dining room doorway. 

Saoirse was as red-haired as Jamie, freckled and cheery-eyed. “Will you be speakin’ the Gaelidgh yourself, Claire?”

“Very little,” I attempted in that language, my accent horrendous but the words correct, I was fairly certain.

“Very well done,” she replied, laughing before switching back to English, her Irish accent broad and unashamed. “That’s about as much as I know of it, myself. My parents weren’t too keen on my marrying a Scot, but I’ve no regrets. Except maybe Charlie’s tendency to put his fool foot in his fool mouth.” 

“It’s rather endearing, actually,” I assured her. 

Despite herself, Saoirse grinned. “Damn me if it wasn’t one of the things that had me head-over-heels for the idiot.” 

We laughed and settled deeper into the comfy couch, covered over with homey afghans. “So, Charlie tells me you and Jamie met in Scotland, originally? Did ye like it, there?”

“I did!” I paused just for a moment. “Well, to tell it true, a lot of sad things happened there…but we had some of our happiest days, as well,” I added, thinking of those days at Lallybroch before the war.  

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” 

I thought about that for a long while. “To visit, certainly. When Brianna and—” I gestured to the baby, “are old enough to see and hear the stories, I think.”

“You’d never think of moving back permanently? Seems to be a dream of Charlie’s—It’d surprise me if Jamie had no similar desire.” 

We had indeed talked about it, and I knew Jamie’s very conflicted thoughts on the matter. “Part of him wishes for Scotland, yes—but it’s a Scotland that’s long-gone.”

That surprised her. “How so?”

“Jamie had…a lot of hard things happen to him there. He lost his family, and so doesn’t have anyone left.” 

“Not a soul?” 

“No one,�� I said, feeling the ache of it. I rubbed the baby absently. “So, he misses it, the land and its people and ways, but there isn’t anyone left in Scotland to make it home for him.”

“That’s very sad,” Saoirse murmured, sparing a glance toward the men in the dining room.

“It is. But you see, it’s easier to have our life in America: to keep Scotland in his mind the way it was, rather than feel the ache of it, seeing always what’s missing.”

“Aye, I understand….At least he has his lady—and his little ones.”

We shared a smile, and I wanted to ask her more about her own family, but just then the children descended, Bree, four-year-old Nolan, and little Will, just barely walking. No impromptu migration, this: the pack of them squealed in, chased by their fathers at their heels. 

“You lot are no better than the children!” I laughed. 

“Aye, maybe no’,” Jamie agreed, grinning, “But at least we’re old enough to drink, and they’re not.” 

“I AM!” Nolan insisted. “I’m plenty grow’d up!” 

“Oh, aye, to be sure,” Charlie said with a wink.  “I forgot we had a grown wee mannie in our midst.” He went to the kitchen and returned with an armful of ginger ale bottles. “A man needs a stiff drink.” He cracked open a lid and handed the glass bottle to his son, who looked terribly important at acknowledgment of his maturity. 

Bree was NOT intending to be overlooked. She put on her hips and insisted, “I’M mannie, TOO!” daring Charlie to say otherwise.

Nor did he, bless him. He already had a bottle ready for her. “Here ye go, wee mannie.” 

Bree had never had soda pop before, and she recoiled in surprise at first taste of the bubbly treat, looking as thought she’d rather skip this novelty; but, a true Fraser, she would never admit defeat with Nolan so proudly enjoying his, and so she gamely drank, getting violent hiccups almost instantly. 

“A Hogmanay toast?” Saoirse suggested, rising to her feet to pour some whisky. She offered one to me, but I accepted only a ginger ale.  Many people drank alcohol regularly during pregnancy, I knew (as had I, in the past) but somehow now it made me feel ill to think of accidentally intoxicating the poor thing. 

The toasts flew thick and fast. To our families! To the new year! To a better season on the pitch! To the whisky! And even—

“To our Bonnie Prince!” Charlie said, with an eye to Jamie, making a rude gesture toward the ceiling. “May he sleep wi’ spiders in his grave for the feckless wanker he was.”

“AAA-bloody-MEN!” I intoned with feeling.

“Aye,” Jamie said with a rueful nod as he drank, though he crossed himself.

He promptly choked as Bree squeaked out, “Whatssa WANE-gr?”

Before the rest of us could react, Nolan grinned fiendishly and started in with, “It means a–”

“That’s QUITE enough from you, a blalaich,” Saoirse said sharply. “And what would Great-Gran Murray say if she heard ye were knowing such a word??”

I shook with silent laughter along with Charlie, such that I almost didn’t hear Jamie’s quiet question: 

“…Murray?” 

My belly tightened and I whipped my eyes up to look at him. He’d schooled his face into a mask of control—a sure bellwether of the deep emotional turmoil within him. 

Good Lord…. 

“My mother’s mam. They live together in Cambridge,” Charlie said blithely as he poured more whiskey all around. “The MacAlisters were none too pleased about my Da’s choice, but even they had to admit in the end what a fine woman she was. Strong and certain and wi’ a mouth on her that could wither fruit. Not one to charm royalty, she, but a damn formidable sort, Murrays.”

Formidable.  Like Jenny. 

“From, erm, which part of Scotland, is your mother’s family?” I asked casually.

“Roundabout Inverness, mostly.”

My heart quickened with excitement. Not far at all from Broch Morda. I was opening my mouth to ask more questions, to narrow and ascertain, but then I caught Jamie’s eye, his ever-so-slight shake of the head. I closed my mouth.

Later, after supper, while Charlie and Saoirse cleared the table (refusing our many offers of help), Jamie and I took the children into the sitting room again.  

I took Jamie’s hand. “Why not, my love?” I asked gently. 

He knew what I meant, but he didn’t answer right away, nor did he look me in the eye. He pulled me close and pressed a kiss to my cheek. 

“Does it—” I began tentatively, but he was already speaking. 

“Tis enough to me,” he said, simply, “that they might be.” 

And though it at first struck me as utterly ridiculous, not to wish to know for certain, I did come to understand what he meant, as the evening went on. To KNOW was so final.  Jenny and Ian certainly had THOUSANDS of descendants, and even so, the chances that we’d encountered someone from their direct line was highly unlikely, or at the very least, very difficult to prove. To allow himself to believe–that was the gift, here.

And I could see it in his eyes, the soft contemplation of it, the sense of true brotherhood between he and Charlie now even deeper. The tenderness that radiated out from his face as he knelt to speak to little Will about a toy. I could almost see the thoughts rolling through him.

Might some scrap of this lad owe itself to Ian? 

To Jenny? 

To Ellen of Leoch or Black Brian Fraser?

Aye…it might.

“Bree, a leannan, do ye want to come sit wi’ Da?” 

“No,” she said, shrugging back and rubbing her face, “I wan’ Mama.” 

“Fair enough,” he laughed. “I would want your Mama, too.” 

“Come here, baby,” I beckoned, groaning a bit as I gathered her up against my chest. “Oof, there’s my sweet girl.” I savored the feeling, as I always did, of holding Bree in my arms and the baby in my body. The sounds around us were muffled and distant as we settled into a warm heap of love.

The radio was switched on at 10:00, detailing the new year’s celebrations happening around the country. We’d arrived late in the evening, with the little ones having taken naps late in the day to stave off sleepiness, but the late hour was still wearing on them. Hot chocolate and slices of Black Bun cake at 11:00 were enough to rouse them temporarily, but it still took a great deal to get them all conscious for the big moment as we all got to our feet for the final seconds of 1950. 

5…4…3…2…1!!!!

And as it always did, Auld lang syne began to play. It meant absolutely nothing to Jamie, of course. He had predated Robert Burns and his lyrics, and couldn’t have discerned the tune in any case, but he listened to the words with eager interest. Charlie was drowning out the radio with the traditional scots rendition, though I only knew the same anglicized version that was playing. 

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and auld lang syne?

And for the first time in my life, with my children held close and Jamie’s arm around my back, the song gave me chills:

We two have run about the slopes,

and picked the daisies fine;

But we’ve wandered many a weary foot

since auld lang syne.

We two have paddled in the stream,

from morning sun till dine

But seas between us broad have roared

since auld lang syne.

And both of us had tears running down our faces as we locked eyes. No, we wouldn’t ever forget the things of our past: neither the daisies of our life, nor the weary feet from the trampings of war, nor the roaring seas of tragedy that had indeed once swept us apart.  

And there’s a hand my trusty friend!

And give me a hand o’ thine!

And we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

And as we moved toward the front door for the first-footing, I kissed my trusty friend, and didn’t need to see any dark stranger outside to know that 1951 would be the best year of our lives.