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takenyoomies · 3 years

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Takeomi's "Day Off"

Title - Takeomi's "Day Off"

Rated - T

Summary - When Senju said it was his "day off", this was not what Akashi Takeomi had in mind.

Tags - Food, Movies, Wakasa Lock-picking, Swearing, Benkei Slander, Mildly OOC

Characters - Takeomi, Wakasa, Benkei, Senju, Draken(mentioned), Shinichiro(mentioned), Terano South(mentioned)

TWs - mentions of character death

Word Count - 2977

Read on AO3

The evening forecast calls for-

“Rain.”

Thunderstorms until the late evening, and it will then clear up around nine o’clock. Back to you for the local news to talk about how you can protect yourself from-

Click.

Takeomi sighed as he took another drag off of his cigarette, neatly ashing it in a black ceramic ashtray he’d found long ago in the belongings of none other than Shinichiro Sano. With his gaze affixed to the ever infinite tile ceiling, one thing crossed his mind. What was he going to do on his day away from the rest of the members of Brahman?

It wasn’t often that the scar-faced man had a rare “day off,” as Senju called them. He chuckled at the idea as he hadn’t been employed since he lost his ambitions, though all things considered, helping manage the gang members did feel like a full-time job. There was the somewhat apathetic Wakasa, who seemingly followed Senju to the ends of the earth. However, enjoyed the occasional prank. Benkei was pretty hot-headed in their quarrels. However, outside of them, he seemed to enjoy the more minor things...only to also become hot-headed about those too. Takeomi rubbed the bridge of his nose as he remembered the time they went fishing only for Benkei to pick a fight with his fishing pole for not catching him any fish. There also was Senju, his sister, who was calm for the most part until she wasn’t, and it became a game of World War between the five of them as they tried to figure out who stole the last manju from the plate in the middle of the table. And lastly, there was of course the new member of the gang, Draken, who hid mainly in the shadows and made a relatively decent hot curry.

The scar-faced man stood from the well-loved recliner, stretching his back as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a beer, “Wonder what they’re up to today…” He murmured as he opened the fridge, plucking a silver can from its place on the shelf. He turned his body to walk back towards the living room only to hear the doorbell ring. He froze in place, blinking. No one other than four people knew he lived here, and all four of those people knew it was his day off.

The bell rang again.

He pursed his lips, thinking that perhaps they would go away.

“He has to be home, and he never goes anywhere.” A deep voice stated, almost in annoyance.

“True...I don’t see the point in him going anywhere, to be honest, and it’s raining.” A tired voice replied, almost sounding bored with the situation.

Takeomi huffed, “Oh, so they think I’m a hermit?” He thought to himself, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“Well...we could always use...that.” The last voice said, the doorbell ringing one more time.

“Oh! I like that idea.” The deep voice spoke excitedly.

Takeomi blinked, wondering what that meant, only to hear the telltale sound of scratching at his door. He hurriedly rushed over, unlocking the door as he quickly realized what that was.

“How many times have I told you, if I’m not answering the door, don’t get Waka to pick the lock!” He yelled in exasperation as he whipped open the door. Benkei collapsed into the genkan while Senju and Wakasa remained kneeling outside, both looking up at the semi-tired-looking man holding a beer, a cigarette between his lips.

“Oh. Hi Takeomi.” Wakasa finally spoke with a wave, his bored face showing how unaffected he was by the man in front of him.

Benkei groaned as he rose from his position on the floor, “If you would’ve answered the door, maybe we wouldn’t have had to use Waka.” He rubbed his head, “And would it kill you to open the door slower?”

“You act as though I’m some item for you to use when you get locked out…” The two-toned-haired man retorted, standing from his crouched position, patting his pants as he put away the lock-picking kit back into his bag.

The buff man clicked his tongue, “As if that’s the biggest fucking issue here.”

Takeomi sighed, looking at the group in front of him, “What are you three even doing here?” He questioned, noticing the plastic bags, “It’s my day off.”

“Well…” Senju started, standing from her position on the ground as well, “We were going to meet up at the park, but it’s raining.”

“Yeah, I wonder who did that.” Benkei huffed sarcastically, crossing his arms.

“You can’t blame me for the rain every time.” Takeomi pointed out, taking a drag off of his cigarette.

“I can, and I fucking will.”

“Regardless of if Takeomi made it rain,” Senju cut in, looking over at the several plastic bags on the concrete behind them, “Your apartment was the closest.”

Takeomi exhaled, the smoke wrapping around him like the safety he needed in that moment as he paused to think. Yes, he could refuse them entry. Unfortunately, though, that would likely just cause them to force their way in like usual. He sighed in defeat, “Alright, get in.”

Senju smiled, “Yay!” The smallest cheered, rushing into the apartment past Takeomi and Benkei.

“Wait, shit, she’s gonna get the chair!” Bekei roared in sudden realization, attempting to blow past the other man as well, only to be stopped by an arm.

“Pick up the bags and then go fight over the chair. Don’t make Waka carry everything.” Takeomi warned, only to receive a glare in return.

“You do it if you’re so concerned.” He snapped, sliding under the arm that was blocking his path inside and rushing inside, “Hey Senju, you got it last time!”

Takeomi shook his head, “Never changes.” He looked over at the plastic bags that Wakasa was beginning to gather up, “It’s always us, huh?”

“Been that way since…” Wakasa trailed off before shrugging a bit, the lollipop in his mouth shifting, “Take these, and I’ll carry the rest.”

The older man knew what he meant by that sentence and was somewhat thankful he didn’t finish it. Sometimes he wondered if that ghost would ever stop haunting the three of them. He shook the thought as he grabbed onto the two plastic bags, peering into them and noticing the sheer amount of food.

“Just...how much did all of you buy?” He questioned, the cigarette on his lips nearly dropping in astonishment.

A hum of amusement came from Wakasa’s throat, “Senju kept putting things in the basket, and Benkei...Well, you know him.”

“And you?” Takeomi questioned, only to see the two-toned-haired man pull out a bag of lollipops. The scar-faced man's lips tilted into a smile, “How predictable.”

“Please,” Wakasa began as they walked inside, Takeomi could already hear the sounds of an argument, “My simple tastes are far superior to Benkei’s ridiculous tastes in cola-flavored garbage.”

Takeomi snorted, “I didn’t know you had a candy complex.”

Wakasa rolled his eyes, “Is that even real?”

“Beats me.” Takeomi chuckled as they made their way into the living room to see a smug-looking Senju placed in the comfortable recliner and an angry Benkei gesturing.

Benkei groaned, “Like I said, you got it last time so, get up!”

Senju smiled sweetly as she settled herself into the recliner, “No, I’m comfortable.”

You could see a vein pop on the buff man’s forehead, “Oh my god, you’re so!” He attempted to piece together before growling once more.

Senju snickered, “Use your words Benkei.”

“Senju, don’t be mean to the wildlife.” Wakasa sighed, placing the bags on the coffee table.

“I am not an animal!” Benkei yelled in offense.

“Hm. Debatable.” Wakasa shrugged as he sat down on one of the pillows.

Takeomi shook his head, placing the other plastic bags onto the table, opening his beer, taking a sip, and wrinkling his nose. Warm. However, this seemed to get the attention of Benkei.

“Hey, Takeomi, if you’re having a beer, share one with the rest of us.” The bearded man complained, strolling over to him.

“Bring your own.” He breathed, waving his spare hand at him, sitting down at the table beside Wakasa, “You just were at the store.”

“If I remember correctly, you said you were going to bum one off of Takeomi.” Wakasa’s bored voice cut in, exposing the other’s plans as he opened a bag of hard candy.

“I-I did not.” Benkei huffed, crossing his arms and looking to the side.

“I clearly recall you stating, Waka, I’m gonna get a beer from Takeomi, so I don’t have to buy a six-pack! I’m so smart, haha or something of that effect.” Wakasa mimicked the burly man set before himself, popping the lollipop out of his mouth and pointing at him with it.

Takeomi hummed, “Is that right?”

“No way, I would never say that!” Benkei denied, holding his hands up in refusal.

“Senju can confirm it, probably.” Wakasa sighed, popping the sweet back in his mouth.

“Ain’t no way she heard sh-”

“I was in the other aisle. Even I heard you say it, Benkei.” Senju confirmed.

“Okay, maybe I did say that,” Benkei muttered, looking to the side, “But come on, beer is expensive!”

“And bumming it off of me makes that okay?” Takeomi asked incredulously, shaking his head.

“Yes.” Benkei grinned, only to receive a look of disapproval from the man.

Takeomi sighed, “I’d say you’re unbelievable, though this is far too in character for you.”

Benkei snorted in amusement, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Eyebrow twitching, the scar-faced man sighed once more, "If you could stop swearing in front of my sister, that'd be wonderful."

Benkei huffed, "I don't think she minds it."

"Well I-"

Senju waved an arm, interrupting the conversation, “Hey, can you pass me the sour gummy worms?” She asked, as if to ignore the on-going conversation about herself.

Wakasa sighed and looked over to Takeomi, “You’re closer.”

Takeomi stared daggers at Benkei, who shrugged with a lopsided grin. He turned towards Wakasa, “Fine, fine.” Takeomi groaned, putting his cigarette out into the ashtray, “Which bag are they in?”

Wakasa shrugged, opening a can of juice, “Probably the one with the candy.”

Takeomi pulled one of the bags forward, fishing around for the bag of sour candy. “Is this the right bag?” He questioned as he fumbled through the several different types of snacks.

“Probably.” Wakasa’s bored eyes peering over at the man, “Actually, they might be in the other other candy bag.”

Takeomi stopped his search to look up at the two-toned-haired man, “You mean to tell me you have two entire bags of candy?”

The accused party sighed, “Listen, blame Senju for that one.”

“Nuh-uh Waka, you pitched in to at least half the damage!” The light-haired girl chimed in, crossing her arms with a knowing look.

Benkei snorted as he sat down at the table, “And by half, that’d be one bag each.”

“Thank you. I can do basic math,” Wakasa replied, rolling his eyes and pulling the other bag forward. His fingers instantly pulling out the bag of sour gummy worms, much to Takeomi’s surprise.

“How did you…” Takeomi started, only to have the bag of gummy worms flung into his chest, “...Nevermind.” He breathed, standing from his place at the table and walking over to the snowy-haired girl, “Here.”

Senju grinned, “Thanks.” She spoke happily as she grabbed the package of sweets out of his hands, biting open the top with her teeth.

Takeomi sighed attempting to grab the package back from her, “Hey, you’re gonna ruin your teeth like that.”

Wrinkling her nose, Senju looked up at Takeomi, “You’re not the boss of me.” She spoke sarcastically with a slight smile, shoving a gummy worm into her awaiting mouth.

The dark-haired man raised a brow, “...And I’m assuming you forgot that sour food is sour, again.”

Senju’s face had contorted, her nose wrinkling as her lips puckered, “Shut up…” She whimpered, shoving another gummy worm into her mouth.

"You're how old?" Takeomi questioned with an amused smile, as Senju pouted.

"Worst brother ever." She huffed.

Benkei tilted his head over only to burst into laughter, “Happens every time, man.”

“You do the same when you eat spicy food.” Wakasa mentioned as he took a sip from his drink, “Remember the time we ate Draken’s hot curry? You were crying like a baby.”

Takeomi snorted as he remembered the scene, Draken had said he would make them curry since they were eating out too much, and Benkei had been the most excited about it. But, of course, this only seemed to fire up the braid-haired man more when it came to making the curry, so when it came down to them eating, he had even given Benkei an extra serving.

“Do you remember when he took the first bite?” Takeomi pondered as he walked back over to the table, Benkei groaning and placing his head on the table in embarrassment.

“Man, quit it, do you have to?” Benkei pleaded, peeking an eye up towards the man.

“Do you mean the it burns part or take me to the hospital one?” Wakasa questioned with slight amusement.

The buff man grumbled, “I’m going home. This is bullshit.”

“So you can bark, but you can’t take a bite?” Takeomi teased, grabbing his beer and taking another swig, once again scrunching his nose, “This is disgusting.”

“Then why are you still drinking it…?” Wakasa sighed in exasperation.

“Because wasting beer is a cardinal sin.” Takeomi clarified.

Benkei sat up quickly, pointing at both Takeomi and Wakasa, “You know what else a cardinal sin is? Dunking on your homies.”

The two-toned-haired man blinked, before shaking his head and clasping his hands together, and looking directly into Benkei’s eyes, “So is having an IQ of below 70, but we’re still accepting of you, Benkei.” He spoke carefully before downing the rest of his drink, “Alright, are we watching a movie?”

Benkei sat at the table, mouth agape, unsure of what to say or do, all while Takeomi and Senju snickered uncontrollably in the background.

“Sure, we can do that.” Takeomi finally spoke through his laughs, lighting a cigarette, “Though we’re not watching Jurassic Park again and making Terano South references.”

“Aw, come on!” Senju pouted.

“We could always watch Pulp Fiction?” Wakasa offered with a half-hearted shrug.

Takeomi raised a knowing brow, “You just want to say the does he look like a bitch part again, Waka.”

He sighed, “Guilty.”

“What about-” Benkei began.

“No.” Takeomi interrupted.

The burly man huffed and crossed his arms, “But I didn’t even say shit!”

“We are not watching Austin Powers.” The man with the cigarette proclaimed, shaking his head.

“...Fine.”

“What about Goodfellas?” Senju pointed out, swinging her legs from the recliner, “That’s always a favorite.”

Benkei groaned, “We’ve watched that like 20 times, though.”

Takeomi hummed, “What’s 21, though…”

“Waka can probably quote all the lines in that one, too, then.” Benkei thought out loud.

“Did you hear him last time?” Senju asked while tilting her head to the side, “He even did the voices.”

“He wasn’t here last time we watched, remember?” Takeomi pointed out, taking a hit off of his cigarette and exhaling.

“Oh, right!” Senju realized.

“Wait, you mean to tell me I missed Waka doin’ Goodfellas impressions?!” Benkei asked, looking around at the group, “Why did no one tell me!”

“You miss a lot of things when you screw around doing other things.” Wakasa pointed out as he stood, “Goodfellas it is.” He walked over to the bookcase and grabbed a VHS case for the movie.

“The real question is...did we rewind it when we watched it last time,” Senju commented as Wakasa walked over to the television set and shoved it into the VHS player.

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t ha-” It was not rewound, “Goddamn it.” Takeomi huffed.

“Short intermission, I guess.” Wakasa breathed as he hit the rewind button, walking back to the table and plopping down.

The smoking man chuckled, “You know, I didn’t expect to spend my day off like this?”

“Oh?” Wakasa asked, raising a brow.

Benkei snorted, “What, did you expect to sleep all day and drink beer?”

Takeomi rolled his eyes, “No, though that sounds peaceful compared to the mess all of you seem to bring.” He huffed, inhaling the last of the cigarette and putting it out into the ashtray. The VCR clicked, signifying the tape was done rewinding. “I got it,” Takeomi stated as he stood from his seat at the table, walking towards the TV set.

“I guess it is your day off…” Senju hummed, her legs once again moving back and forth as she spoke, “But, we missed you.”

Benkei’s eye’s widened, “Shhh!! You weren’t supposed to tell him!” As he attempted to silence the small leader.

The scar-faced man’s hand stopped as it reached forward. He blinked. They missed him. He felt his heart swell in his chest as a smile spread its way onto his face.

“Hey, Takeomi...” Wakasa questioned boredly after a moment, “Tell me they didn’t take you out with just that?”

“I’m fine.” He responded, pressing play on the VCR and turning to walk towards the light switch. While the smile on his face had disappeared, the warm and fuzzy feelings had not as he switched off the lights. Making his way back to the table, he received an all-knowing look from Wakasa as he sat down.

As the previews for the movie were nearing their end, Takeomi leaned forwards towards Wakasa, attempting not to alert the other two members of the room.

“So, even you missed me?” He questioned quietly as the beginning scene started, the two-toned-haired man not entirely paying attention.

“Yeah, yeah…” the two-toned-haired man dismissed, the piece of candy in his mouth shifting against his teeth.

“Hm.” Takeomi hummed, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the tiled ceiling once more. He could vaguely hear the storm outside over the sound of Wakasa quoting the movie, Benkei’s obnoxious wheezes of laughter, and Senju’s tiny kicks against his favorite recliner that he always gave up to one of them instead to sit on the floor himself. A gentle smile once again made its way back onto his face.

Maybe it should rain more often.

#takeomi akashi #imaushi wakasa #senju kawaragi #benkei #arashi keizou #brahman #fanfiction #mildly ooc #will likely have to change senju's gender #here we are #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers spoilers #imi writes

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: September

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: August

Note: I really liked writing this part so please let me know your thoughts!

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September 2020

Before the pandemic hit, we'd planned to send Grayson to preschool in the fall after he turned three. However, with the state of the world when the time arrived, it became a more complicated decision. We knew the benefits - we knew it would give him the opportunity to make friends and jumpstart his learning - but after many long, anxiety filled discussions, we decided to keep him home for another year. We didn't need it for childcare as neither of us had any work on the horizon and he still had another year before kindergarten so he wouldn't be missing out on preschool education completely. The risks just seemed to outweigh the benefits at that point in time given the case numbers in our area.

But not everyone had such an easy choice to make. People with older children had to educate them somehow - whether that be in person or online. In person classes had a much higher risk of exposure to the virus, but online classes were harder for children to focus on and required much more participation from the parents.

Carly had made the difficult choice to keep her kids at home and continue their online education, but it was proving to be harder than she'd anticipated. The kids were tired of learning through a computer and they missed their friends. Despite the risk of in person learning, they wanted to go back to school and were dragging their heels when it came to doing their work at home.

They started in August and by the middle of September, Carly was quickly losing her patience with all three of her children and, after a tearful phone call from his sister, Chris and I agreed to take them for an afternoon. They had some homework that we had to make sure they did, but Chris' goal was more related to sending them home with a renewed appreciation for their parents and a promise to keep working hard.

He'd picked them up just after lunch and given them a stern - but understanding - talking to on the way over to our place, but once they arrived he was back to being fun Uncle Chris and started their afternoon of school with gym class in the form of a soccer game. He ran them around the yard for over an hour before they wrapped up the game and came in for a snack. Then, the real school work started.

"So," Chris clapped. "What homework does everyone have?"

"Math..."

Ethan wrinkled his nose in disgust as he answered and his siblings nodded their heads in agreement.

"Well, it's your lucky day!" Chris grinned. "Whitney happens to be a math whiz! She went to university to be an accountant."

It was hard not to laugh at the disgust on their faces and I was tempted to inform them of the fact that I had dropped out just to retain my status as their uncle's 'cool' girlfriend. I thought that information might not help inspire them to work though so I kept it to myself.

"Why did you do that?" Miles questioned. "That's so boring!"

"It doesn't have to be," I insisted. "Chris, why don't you take Gray to do a puzzle or something and we'll get this work out of the way?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, plucking Grayson off the stool he was sitting on and throwing the giggling child over his shoulder. "And remember, the faster the homework gets done, the faster we can get back to doing fun stuff!"

I waited until Chris had left the room before shooting a smile at the little students that I was left with.

"Okay, now that he's gone, I can show you the secret to making math fun," I told them, stretching up to grab a big jar of jelly beans from the top shelf of a cupboard. It was Chris' secret stash, but I was sure he wouldn't be too mad if I borrowed it. "You just need to find some motivation."

The kid's eyes went wide.

"Are those Uncle Chris'?" Ethan asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Yep," I smiled. "So, let's hurry and get to work before he comes back and catches us."

I shot them a wink and they all scurried off to get their notebooks.

It was easier to incorporate the candy into Miles and Stella's math homework as in the younger grades, they were mostly doing addition and subtraction. I helped them use the jelly beans as counters and let them eat them after every few questions. For Ethan, it was a bit trickier. In sixth grade, he was getting more into the start of algebra and some harder level fractions which jelly beans were less useful in. Instead, we used them as motivation and he got to eat a couple of jelly beans for every row of questions he finished.

We almost got away with our jelly bean thievery, but just as the kids were packing up their books, I heard a gasp come from the doorway.

"Are those my jelly beans?!"

The kids all burst out laughing as I shot Chris a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry. They needed some encouragement..."

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really that upset.

"I trusted you," he scolded me. "Now I'll have to find a new hiding spot and you won't be informed of its whereabouts."

I pouted at that as Grayson scrambled up onto the stool beside me to get his hands in the candy before it was moved.

"You could just be nice and share," I pointed out. "Making them forbidden just makes them more tempting."

"Yeah, Uncle Chris," Ethan nodded in agreement. "Plus, you're always telling us that we have to share stuff."

"You're getting too smart, kid," Chris smiled at him. "But unfortunately for you, I'm still in charge which means you have to do as I say, not as I do."

Ethan rolled his eyes at that as Stella frowned.

"That's not fair!"

"That's life," Chris shrugged. "Now, who's going to help me make some dinner?"

Grayson and Stella threw their hands up in the air as I popped another jelly bean into my mouth.

"What are we having?"

"Pasketti!" Grayson enthusiastically informed me, earning a laugh from Chris as he ruffled his hair.

"Spaghetti," he clarified. "With Ma's recipe for the sauce."

"Ooh, yum!"

I stole one last jelly bean before putting the lid back on the jar. The kids all whined in protest, but if Chris was making dinner then I knew it was time for me to stop stuffing them with sugar.

We all stayed in the kitchen as Chris started getting things ready, giving the kids simple jobs to do like opening jars and the occasional stirring. Dinner was about halfway ready when Miles got a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Uncle Chris?" He questioned, getting Chris' attention. "Aren't you going to sing the spaghetti song?"

That piqued my interest and I raised an eyebrow at Chris whose cheeks were slightly pinker than they'd been moments before.

"What's the spaghetti song?"

"On Top of Spaghetti," Chris informed me as if I should know what he was talking about. I didn't and my face must have shown him that. "C'mon! You have to know it!"

"I can't say that I do," I shrugged. "You'll have to enlighten me."

"Daddy sings it every time we have pasketti!" Grayson informed me, still mispronouncing the word.

"Well, I think I need to learn it then," I smiled. "Go on, Chris. Let's hear it."

The kids all agreed with me, hassling him to start the song.

"Alright, alright," he agreed after a moment of resistance. His cheeks were still looking a little rosy with embarrassment as he took a deep breath and then began. "On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese. I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed..."

I watched - filled with an almost overwhelming sense of affection for him - as he sang through all the verses of the song. The kids joined in where they could and all of them were giggling by the time he was done.

"Again, again!"

Grayson started the chant, but they all joined in and with a smirk, I did too.

"Yes, Chris! Again, again!" I teased. "So I can film it for Instagram!"

"Ha-ha," Chris laughed sarcastically. "You're so funny, Whitney. There will be no filming of this performance."

"But just think how much your fans would love it," I smiled. "You'd melt the hearts of women all over the world."

Chris let out a laugh at that comment, but didn't have time to respond before the kids took over again, demanding another performance. Once he was sure that my phone was safely out of reach, he launched into another round of song.

By the time dinner was done and the kids were all settled in front of the TV watching a movie, my heart was feeling rather full. Seeing Chris with all the children and enjoying the afternoon of a house full of their joy and laughter had me feeling things I hadn't been entirely sure I was ready to contemplate yet.

As I sat at the island in the kitchen, sipping my second glass of wine as Chris finished loading the dishwasher, I broached the subject.

"Today has been really nice," I told him, my voice catching his attention in the quiet room. "Having a house full of kids."

That thought clearly gripped his interest as he spun around to face me, still drying his hands.

"Yeah?" The excitement in his voice was palpable. "We haven't talked about that, have we? Do you want more kids?"

"I do," I smiled at his overzealous reaction. "At least one more. I'd like Grayson to have a sibling. It seems lonely to make him grow up all alone."

"It does," he agreed. "I can't imagine growing up without siblings."

"What about you?" I asked. "I mean, I know you've mentioned in interviews that you want a big family, but is that real? Or just for the family man image that your fans love so much?"

Chris chuckled and shrugged, but there was something sheepish about the way he was looking at me.

"Honestly?" He paused as if waiting for a response, but it seemed unnecessary. We both knew I wouldn't want anything other than the truth in a moment like this. "I want at least two more, maybe even three. Hell, I'd have another one right now if you were willing."

I almost choked on the wine I was sipping as those words left his mouth, but as I placed my glass safely back on the counter, the coughing shifted into laughter.

"We can't have another one now," I protested. "We've only been together for like four months!"

"Five," he corrected with a soft smile. "And we were only together for one night before we had Gray and I think he's turned out alright."

He was right about that and I would have been lying if I said that the thought of another little baby didn't stir something inside me, but the more rational side of me came through.

"We can't just rush into another baby," I insisted. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but that's a big decision."

"I know it is," Chris assured me. "I'm half-kidding. I know it's not something we can rush into, but another part of me thinks it would be nice to have one now while we've got nothing else going on."

"That's true, but this pandemic won't last forever," I pointed out. "Even if you got me pregnant right now, you'll hopefully be working again before it would even be born. I'm not sure I could deal with Grayson and a newborn all by myself."

"Yeah, but some experts think this mess is gonna last for a few years still which would make this the perfect time to have a baby."

I shot him a look and he shrugged with a smirk.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I warned him. "Let's just see how this whole pandemic situation goes for a bit longer before we make any massive life plans."

"Alright, alright," Chris chuckled, coming around to my side of the island. He rested his chin on my shoulder and slid his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my stomach. "It would be nice though, wouldn't it? Having another little baby around. Another little mix of the two of us."

I could feel his breath on my neck as his voice was low in my ear and I had to admit that he was right. I was one of the lucky women who actually loved being pregnant and, despite how exhausting and stressful the newborn phase was, I did miss having a little baby around.

But my worries about our ability to co-parent if we split up were still lingering in my mind. They'd been eased slightly by how solid our relationship had been so far, but if it all fell apart, I was still worried about how we would cope. Adding another baby to that so soon seemed like a foolish thing to do.

"It would be nice," I agreed, letting my hands rest on top of his. "It will be nice, one day."

"Well, whenever you're ready," Chris paused to place a kiss on my neck. "Just let me know."

I smiled at his eagerness and turned my head to kiss his cheek.

"I will," I assured him. "And maybe, once the kids have gone home and Grayson's in bed, we could practice. Just so we know what we're doing when the time comes..."

"Oh, I know what I'm doing," Chris practically growled, his grip tightening around me to pull me closer against him. "Don't you worry about that."

I giggled at his confidence before wiggling out of his grasp and standing up from the stool I'd been sitting on.

"I'm not worried, but practice makes perfect, right?"

With a wink, I grabbed my wine and turned to leave the room and check on the kids. Our conversation had given me plenty to think about, but it was comforting as well. I had no doubts that one day I wanted to expand our little family and even if I wasn't quite ready yet, it was nice to know that Chris was on board.

The man was born to be a father, he excelled in every aspect of parenting, and I was grateful that I was the one who got to help him find that role and that I got to share the experience with him.

October + November [part one]

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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stiltonbasket · 4 years

Note

Hi!! Could I perhaps request LQR baby-sitting A-Yu and A-Lan for the renouncement verse? Thanks, love you <333

(brief author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Lan Qiren’s nephews keep overworking themselves.

This wouldn’t be a bad thing if they hadn’t been doing it for the last several years, but it’s beginning to wear on them. Xichen’s eyes are always red and swollen from writing letters by candlelight, and Lan Qiren doesn’t remember the last time he saw Wangji without trade reports in his arms and spit-up milk on his robes, so he finally puts his foot down and decides to give all three of them a break in early autumn.

“Xichen, go take a soak in the hot springs,” he orders, sweeping into the hanshi and shoving everything on Lan Xichen’s desk up one of his sleeves. “Now.”

Lan Xichen is so exhausted that he tries to paint a line of calligraphy onto the expensive wood of his writing table. “Shufu?”

“You heard me,” Lan Qiren scolds. “Go on! I’ll finish the petition forms by tomorrow.”

Somewhat bewildered, Lan Xichen ambles out through the hanshi’s back door and splashes into the hot spring, leaving Lan Qiren to march down to the jingshi and confiscate all of Wangji’s trade contracts. He also confiscates baby A-Lan, who is lying in Lan Wangji’s lap and trying to eat his jade pendant.

“What are you doing?” Wangji asks, watching him tug the rest of his letters out of Wei Ying’s hands and stuff those up his sleeves, too. “Uncle?”

“You and Wei Ying need a rest,” he announces. “I am taking your work to the meishi, and I am also taking your children. Do not come to fetch them until sunset.”

And with that, he straps Wei Shuilan to his chest and takes Lan Yu by the hand, bundling them off to his own residence before their parents have time to do much more than blink at him in confusion.

“Huh,” Wei Wuxian says, after he leaves. “I think your uncle has a point, actually. Let’s go to bed, Lan Zhan.”

When Lan Qiren gets back to the meishi, he settles A-Lan down for a nap and gives Xiao-Yu a snack and some silver puzzle rings to improve his hand-eye coordination. “It almost reminds me of the old days,” he sighs, as Shuilan kicks her chubby little feet before falling asleep with her thumb in her mouth. “Even if Wangji never went down for naps without a fuss.”

Lan Qiren was nineteen when he became acting sect leader, and he was also nineteen when he received custody of Xichen: not coincidentally, because the clan hoped that taking charge of the sect would prevent him from raising his nephew and allow one of them to take over his care instead. But Lan Qiren was nothing if not stubborn, so Lan Huan went with him everywhere—to meetings, discussion conferences, and even the odd wedding now and then, and was generally such an amiable baby that he adjusted to his uncle’s fraught travelling schedule without a fuss. In fact, the first time Lan Huan met Jiang Yanli had been during a week-long cultivation event at Lotus Pier, yawning in a sling on Lan Qiren’s back while Jiang Yanli napped on Jiang Fengmian’s chest, and Jiang Fengmian had even mentioned the possibility of a betrothal between the two babies when they were older.

“My wife wants to contract an engagement between Xiao-Li and a son born to her sworn sister, but Jin-zongzhu and Jin-furen have not yet had a child,” Jiang-zongzhu had sighed, letting his daughter’s little fingers wrap around his. He looked heartbroken at the mere thought of parting from her, Lan Qiren remembers—which was probably why he named her yan li, to hate separation, because Jiang Yanli’s premature birth nearly stole her away from her parents the moment she entered the world.

“Lanling is closer to Gusu than Yunmeng,” Lan Qiren pointed out. Yunmeng Jiang would make an excellent alliance by marriage, and he was fairly certain at the time that Jiang Yanli would grow up to resemble her mild-mannered father rather than her hot-tempered mother. He was right, of course, since Jiang-guniang took after Jiang Fengmian in both looks and character, but contracting a betrothal with her for Xichen would have done both of them a disservice—because Xichen could never have loved her as she would have wanted to be loved, and he could never have given her children, either.

“Shugong?” a little voice says at Lan Qiren’s elbow, distracting him from the possibility of a world where Lan Huan married Jiang Yanli and crippled Lanling Jin’s influence after the Sunshot Campaign. “Xiao-Yu is done with the puzzle. I have another one?”

“Already?” Lan Qiren asks. This is yet another trait Xiaohui inherited from Wei Wuxian despite not being related to him, and Lan Qiren feels his heart swell with pride at his great-nephew’s intelligence. “Then you may play with the wooden blocks on that shelf, and see how high you can build your tower without letting it fall over.”

Xiao-Yu settles down on the hearthrug to stack up the fine-carved building blocks, and Lan Qiren goes through his nephew’s papers in peace for another hour before A-Lan wakes up from her nap and wails for her milk at the top of her lungs.

“Do not cry,” Lan Qiren soothes, securing the child in her swaddle before heating a bottle with a warming talisman. “Here is your supper, and your xiongzhang is there on the mat.”

He has to keep A-Lan in his arms after that, since his tiny great-niece is so used to being held that putting her down would break her little heart; and Lan Qiren would rather die than let go of her, because he dearly misses holding his nephews, and not so long ago he was certain he would never have the chance to hold a baby again.

And then, as if cuddling A-Lan to his chest wasn’t wonderful enough, Xiao-Yu pulls one of Wangji’s old picture books out of Lan Qiren’s storage trunk and runs over to sit in his lap, pushing the trade contracts aside and replacing them with the fable of the magic lotus lantern.

“Shugong, read to Xiao-Yu?” the little boy begs, snuggling into Lan Qiren’s overgown next to his cooing baby sister. “A-Die likes this story best.”

Of course he does, Lan Qiren thinks, as he flips the cover open and starts to read. The tale of the magic lotus lantern was written about a child whose mother was stolen away from him, taken back to the heavens by force when her godly brother discovered the magic lantern that illuminated her way to the mortal world—and for a while Wangji believed that his mother was like the immortal Sanshengmu, who loved a human man and had a child with him before returning to the realm she came from. Sanshengmu’s story ended with her being reunited with her husband and son, and the little Wangji never gave up hope that his own mother might come back in much the same way, even after he was old enough to stop believing in fairy stories.

“Why did they fight?” Xiao-Yu asks, leaning closer to see the picture of the goddess’s lover with his brush and scroll. “That’s against the rules!”

“Sometimes people who love one another fight because they cannot understand their feelings,” Lan Qiren tells him, tapping the point of his soft button nose. “So it was with Sanshengmu and Liu Yanchang-gongzi, and when he awoke, she revealed her true identity, and explained why she sent a rainstorm to plague him after she read his poem.

“Both apologized profusely. Days went by, and Liu Yanchang finally recovered. By then the goddess and the scholar had fallen deeply in love, and marriage naturally ensued. Encouraged by Goddess Sanshengmu, Liu Yanchang continued with his journey to the capital to take the imperial examination, and months later, the goddess gave birth to their son, whom she named Chenxiang.

“At the same time, the goddess’s celestial family had learned about her marriage to an earthly man. Her brother, known as Divine Erlang, found his unruly sister and demanded that she renounce her new family and return with him to their heavenly home, but Sanshengmu refused, and battled him with the power of her magical lotus lantern…”

“I want to paint a portrait of this,” Wei Wuxian whispers, when he and Lan Zhan creep into the meishi after sunset to find Lan Qiren fast asleep on the floor, with A-Lan snoozing on his chest and Xiao-Yu curled up in the crook of his arm. “They’re so sweet, Lan Zhan!”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan murmurs, his eyes softening as he looks at the open book on his uncle’s desk. Lan Qiren clearly just finished reading it before he fell asleep, because the book is open to the very last picture; a color painting of a goddess embracing a youth and an older man with a lotus-shaped lantern hanging at the crook of her elbow. “Bring a blanket and a pillow, Wei Ying. We should let them sleep.”

(Lan Qiren often finds himself toting his little great-nephew and niece around the Cloud Recesses after that, and Xiao-Yu’s favorite place to play in his parents’ absence is always the house where his shugong lives.)

#wangxian #mo dao zu shi #my fic #wangxian arranged marriage au #renouncement verse #lan qiren #lan xiaohui #wei shuilan

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ntshastark · 2 years

Text

ok, let’s try this again

re-starting bridgerton season 2, now with a new mindset after a week trying to accept the fact that they completely changed everything about my favourite book of the series

(part 1 - ep. 1)

spoilers ahead (if they’re even still spoilers after a week)

i was watching while keeping the book in mind (bc, yknow, this was supposed to be an adaptation), but instead of this helping me understand the characters and what was going on in their heads better, it made me kind of assign them with thoughts and feelings they weren’t thinking and feeling (at least yet). the show seems to be a lot more slowburn than the book, not to mention the incredibly annoying love triangle plot they decided to shove in

i had to go after a lot of spoilers, which is usually not how i prefer to consume media, but i needed something to replace what i knew from the book with. it absolutely sucks when an adaptation would be best-enjoyed if you’d never read the source material, but, as a marvel comics fan and someone whose favourite book series is the princess diaries, i guess i should fucking be used to it by now 🤡🤡🤡

Episode 1

i hadn’t noticed, but it’s so cute how the first bridgerton to appear / the first character to get a solo shot this season is daphne 🥺 as if she’s passing on the baton

i’ve seen people complaining that hyacinth would be much more likely than eloise to be a proto-feminist but i have to disagree. eloise and hyacinth are extremely alike in some aspects, i can easily see both of them buying into proto-feminist philosophy. but they are also extremely different in other aspects, and this is easily seen on their respective bffs (best featherington friends).

the whole peneloise dynamic is that penelope always wanted to be at the center of high society, but was shunned - because of her lack of title, her more unconventional beauty, her mother’s impositions and attitude; while eloise has it all (titled father/brother, conventional beauty, mother/family who is not only beloved by their peers but are also loving and respectful towards her), but chooses to be where penelope was forced to. eloise is loud about her beliefs because doesn’t care for the (social) consequences. she hates it here, she wants out. no wonder she fucked off to the countryside the moment penelope got hitched, she wouldn’t last a second in london by herself.

hyacinth is completely different. her best friend was “the only featherington sister blessed both with natural beauty and charm” (penelope’s words). neither of them ended up on the shelf. hyacinth is just as smart, quick-witted and sharp-tongued as eloise, but, at the same time, both her and felicity know their way around high society way better than their older sisters ever could (lady whistledown notwithstanding). hya might as well agree with everything eloise thinks, but she goes an entirely different way about it. gareth accused lady danbury of “remaking [hyacinth] in her image”, but honestly she never had to. just like lady danbury, hyacinth is the type to see high society as a game, and it’s a game she’s going to win.

(and that’s why hyacinth stole eloise’s spot as my favourite bridgerton sibling in the books)

really want to know how tf they come up with those hairstyles. are there any ground rules or do they just go wild???? like, considering the costuming + hair&makeup departments have never opened a history book in their lives, what is the process here????

*sweats*

honestly, this should’ve been the first red flag. book!edwina just really wanted to marry a scholar

in fact, thinking about all the shit i already know they’ve pulled this season, most of it ultimately relied on mutilating edwina as character

there was something about the actress who plays mary, and i thought it was just that she’s really pretty, but i just realised she looks a lot like my mother

oh i hadn’t noticed this! mr finch comments on lady whitledown’s plant puns later!

i love daphne being the older sister 🥺 ik eloise definitely hated it, but it’s so sweet of her to try and guide her on her first season. and it reminds me of how she used her title to help gregory out with lucy on his book

man i really want to know what kate was thinking while watching anthony dance. the book already starts with her knowing about his Rake reputation via lady whistledown (in fact, it’s the quote where the title of this episode comes from), even before they meet, so her first impression is already tainted. but here the slate is better than clean, they’ve already laughed together, so is she interested in him for edwina? for herself? dare she hope? maybe she’s interested in him for herself but doesn’t think she has a chance (not sure if this kate has as big self-steem issues as her book counterpart or if she’s just really focused on solving the marriage+money problems) and is lying to herself pretending she’s just scouting him out for edwina?

violet keeps trying to recruit benedict’s help and he’s just having none of it lmao

i’ve seen people complaining about how lady danbury treated kate this season but honestly this scene alone is enough to justify anything she might throw at her later on. if i acted like this today my mother would be pissed, imagine in the 1810s

can’t get over how they spent all of season 1 with that siena drama only for her to not even appear on season 2

to think everyone was worried about them turning it into a siena/anthony/kate love triangle, and then they came out of left field with a edwina/anthony/kate love triangle and just ignored literally everything that happened to anthony on season 1

lmao and now that i think about it, i remember how people complained about anthony on td&i and it turns out he was originally written as having just inherited the title and julia quinn changed it last minute to edmund having died 10 years ago bc it would make more sense with what she was already writing on tvwlm. so with the tv series everyone thought we’d have a more likeable and cohesive anthony from the beginning......................

and then on season 1 they delivered the worst man i’ve ever seen in my life, truly acting like he’d just become viscount last year, having none of the beliefs and motivations and ideals and overall anything that he had on the books, and we were so sure they were changing his whole backstory................

and then on season 2 they completely ignored everything that happened on season 1 and basically the only thing that they kept from the book was anthony’s backstory....................

i thought i’d be able to finish all 3 episodes i’d already seen today, exactly bc i’d already seen them so i wouldn’t be pausing to comment all the time, but now i keep pausing to rant

this scene! nice how they used it to parallel the way penelope is ignored as herself but celebrated as lady whistledown

gregory and hyacinth being together every time they appear on screen 🥺

someone on twitter pointed out how show!benedict has book!colin’s personality and so much makes sense now

love how anthony went from

in less than 50 minutes

and that is exactly why lmao the self-sabotage is strong with this one

love prudence trying to talk shit about philippa with penelope but it never works bc penelope can’t stand her

why tf do the subtitles use usa spelling when the show is set on england????

besides anthony, something they’re treating completely different this season is the whole concept of a diamond/incomparable. on season 1, it was a totally abstract concept that just described the lady who received the most calls (which i’m sure is a lot more closer to how it worked on reality), but on this season the queen is dangerously close to issuing a certificate, and everyone is acting as if it’s always been this way???

#spoilers #bridgerton spoilers #f: the bridgertons #s: bridgerton #mari liveblogs

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

mixtape | track eight

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Left or right?”

“Don’t look at me, I never fucking graduated.”

“Right, then you move it to the left,” Lisa offered, attempting to get past Grayson. He was having none of it, sticking out his tongue a bit while he focused on getting Indy’s cap arranged correctly, making sure her tassel was in the right spot.

Indy had passed her finals with flying colors, which came as no surprise to anyone who knew her. Top of the class, which was enough for her to feel a tiny bit proud of herself. The Dolan’s on the other hand, we’re over the moon, ready to celebrate her as if it was the greatest achievement anyone could accomplish. Grayson had picked her up from her last final, coaxing her to take a nap in the truck while he drove them out to Jersey, her head in his lap as she was finally able to relax after so many days of stress. He was glad - he wanted her energy to be high when she got to the house, considering he’d planned out a big family dinner as a surprise. He’d even caved and bought her her favorite non-vegan ice cream. She was so surprised that she cried as soon as she went in and saw Ethan and Lisa in the kitchen with little fake graduation cap headbands on.

Even though surprises weren’t her favorite, he hoped he could sneak in another, considering the real one wasn’t until the next day, and it’s arrival came as a text that buzzed in Grayson’s pocket.

Here!

He cleared his throat quickly, trying to hide his excitement as he stepped back from his girlfriend.

“Hey Indiana, I think there’s something at the door for you,” he said.

She squinted at him in accusation.

“You just called me Indiana.”

“Indeed I did.”

“That’s sus.”

“Just go to the door Dee.”

“Sus.”

“Dee.”

“G.”

“Indiana Jamie Cross, will you please open your door,” he said as formally as he could, knowing it would make her laugh enough to give in.

“If something jumps out and scares me, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Holy shit just go open the door before I do it for you.”

She walked slowly but she listened to him, pulling the door open cautiously.

“I was wondering if you were gonna let me in.”

Indiana’s mouth fell open.

“Charlie?!”

Grayson Dolan had learned in the last week that the Cross women were stubborn beings, especially when it came to money. Which was why it took so long for him to convince the older Cross sister to let him buy her and Devin a plane ticket at Thanksgiving.

“We would love to be there, but I just bought the ticket to get out here, and money is kinda tight for us right now. I don’t know if we can swing it so soon again.” Charlie kept her voice down, pretending to look at some of the picture frames on the bookshelf while Grayson talked to her.

“I’ll buy your tickets, both of you, first class.”

“Grayson, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head.

“But you didn’t ask. I offered, there’s a difference. C’mon, you know that she’d love to have you there.”

Charlie hesitated, bit her lip the way Indy always did. The back door opened, signaling that everyone was coming back inside and that their conversation needed to end. She looked up at him quickly, eyes darting across the room.

“I’ll think about it.”

It had taken her four days to finally agree and let Grayson send her the money for the tickets, though she insisted on flying coach, sending him back the rest of what he’d given her to cover first class, down to the cent.

Which was how she ended up getting tackled by a very excited Indiana outside her apartment door, so hard that they almost knocked Devin over in a whirl of blonde hair. Grayson caught her cap as it flew off.

“What?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here! I thought you couldn’t come, what the fuck!”

“Ask him,” Charlie laughed, lifting her chin towards Grayson.

She spun, eyes wide and shocked.

“You did this?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You look exactly like the soft eyes emoji right now, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she smacked his chest before she buried her face in it, sniffling.

“Hey, you don’t have to cry, you’ll mess up your mascara,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair before she stood up straight again, letting him swipe his thumbs under her eyes.

Ethan was watching the interaction from the couch with a bit of a frown. He pulled his eyes away and picked at some lint on his henley, but he kept his ears towards the kitchen. There was a tenderness, a careful nature in the way he spoke around Indy. It reminded him of the first time that Grayson had gotten a girlfriend. Peyton. They’d met on the first day of 7th grade, in science class, where Grayson didn’t care to pay attention, especially not with Ethan and the prettiest girl in the grade at his table. Ethan had teased his brother relentlessly until he finally got his words handed back to him when she actually agreed to a date - which involved him picking flowers out of his mom’s window box garden (he got in trouble for it later) and hiding them under his jacket when Sean dropped him off at the movie theatre. They’d kissed each other during the end credits, with tongue according to a very excited Grayson who came home and plopped himself on his brother’s bed and spilled every little detail. Ethan was single at the time, so he could only listen, and watch. Watch the way he carried her books for her to class and then sprinted to his own with only a few seconds to spare before the bell. Watched him beg his mom to dye his hair blonde when Peyton said she thought it would look cool. Watched him pass her notes all of class, not caring when Mrs. Patterson took one and read “I love you so much, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” in front of the whole class that included the majority of his wrestling team. And, he watched the pain on his face when they stumbled across Peyton kissing Jacob Bates behind the bus when she thought Grayson was at wrestling practice. He tried to keep it together, but he sniffled his way through Lisa dying his hair brown that night. Ethan had tried to cheer him up with his usual tactics - stupid inside jokes, making fun of Cameron, even making fun of himself. But Grayson didn’t laugh.

That was when he knew his brother loved hard. He was halfway convinced the reason that Grayson was the bigger twin in the womb was because of the size of his heart. That being said, it wasn’t unusual for Ethan to watch his brother be kind, and sweet, and loving to his girlfriend.

But there was something different with Indy. It was the first time that he could look at Grayson with a girl and see Grayson - unfiltered, unaltered. His twin brother, in his full form, not having changed a single aspect of himself to fit another person. And it made him happy. So happy that for a moment he was able to ignore the guilt that started to rush over him as he remembered all the things he’d said, about how their relationship wouldn’t work, and how Grayson needed to address it. It made him feel worse that he knew he was still right, no matter how in love his brother was.

In the kitchen, Charlie was flicking through settings on her camera.

“I know we have to leave soon, but we have to get at least a few pictures before you get all sweaty cause you get sweaty when you’re nervous,” she said, grabbing her sister’s arm and leading her over to the windows, positioning her with the right lighting.

They took a few normal portraits, some with her cap and some without, a few candids where Charlie did her best to make her laugh as Grayson watched on, the proudest smile on his face.

“Alright, I want one, I want one!” Devin chimed in, surprising both the Cross sisters. They turned to him with the same expression that had him laughing so hard he held his chest. It was the loudest sound that any of the Dolan’s had ever heard come out of him, but it was contagious enough to have them all smiling.

“What?! It’s not every day my little sis graduates college!” He teased, going to ruffle her hair but thinking better of it at the last minute, instead choosing to wrap her up in the biggest hug, her face adorably squished in the picture that Charlie captured.

After that, it was a revolving door of poses with everyone. Lisa fixed Indy’s hair for her before their picture, and Ethan stole her cap and wore it himself. He offered to take the camera, thankful for Charlie’s settings that seemed to work magic as he took a few cute one of the duo, even a few with Indy on Charlie’s back. Devin joined in and they recreated the shoot from their engagement party that Indy still had on the top shelf.

By the time it was Grayson’s turn, Indy’s cheeks were sore from smiling. But she couldn’t help but beam at him as he waltzed over to her in his dress pants and button down, all dressed up for her big day. She did her best to ignore the click of the camera as Grayson fixed her cap, moved her honors cords so they were even where they hung. They took the normal formal poses, and Grayson stole Ethan’s idea of borrowing the cap. But Indy gasped when he tossed it to the side and scooped her up bridal style, laughing as he held her tight and kissed her cheek, even dipped her a bit and looked up at Charlie for the photo op. Indy put it on her mental to-do list to get them printed as soon as she could, beyond excited to see them once Charlie sent them over.

“Okay, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late,” Lisa said, making sure everyone had what they needed for the short walk to the university. Everyone layered up, but while Grayson disappeared in search of his dress coat, Indy pulled her sister aside.

“Hey um. Did… did Dad talk to you at all this week?”

Charlie’s face melted into pity. “I’m sorry bubs.”

“No it’s fine, it’s no big deal. Didn’t expect him to, I just wanted to check so I didn’t get blindsided or anything if he showed up.”

Charlie just nodded and gave her a small smile. She didn’t tell her little sister that she’d told Kenneth about her graduation - four times, actually. He’d never responded, though she could see that he’d read them. Charlie was so used to making excuses for him that she had a whole list of them backed up. He had to work. Traffic. He wanted to come, but something came up. But when she looked at Indy, who wasn’t so much her little sister anymore, she bit her tongue, put her arm around her and headed out the door.

The ceremony was in the science building. John Clark University didn’t have anywhere big enough to house the entire graduating class, so they opted to split it up into smaller ceremonies by discipline instead.

“It should be pretty quick actually, there’s not a ton of us,” Indy said when they arrived, looking over her shoulder at all the graduates moving to get checked in and lined up.

“We’ll wave when you come out so you can find us!” To Indy’s surprise, Lisa’s eyes were teary. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Li,” Indy smiled, pulling her in for a last minute hug, trying not to get emotional herself at the fact that a woman who had no obligation to love her cared so much.

“Don’t trip,” Ethan grinned, nudging her shoulder to lighten the mood.

She turned to Grayson, kissing him quickly before she finally headed off, looking back a few times before she disappeared around the corner.

“Okay seats, seats, we gotta get good ones!” Charlie exclaimed, immediately leading the group through the rows - it was a massive lecture hall with the flip down chairs Grayson had only seen in movie theatres and movies. When they finally found five seats together, he found himself wandering what it was like to be in class somewhere so big, with so many other people learning the same thing.

Despite feeling like they were running late, there were plenty more graduates and families that filed into the building, taking their seats and patiently awaiting the procession.

Thirty minutes later they finally began to file through, a straight line of black robes and red and white tassels. Charlie spotted Indiana first, with Grayson a millisecond behind her, both of them standing up to wave until she saw them and waved back. He kept track of her as she went to sit down in her row, kept his eyes on her as best he could while the main speaker began his speech. He didn’t care what he had to say - he only had eyes for his girl, who looked back every so often and offered him a little wave that still had his heart fluttering like they were hiding in the curtains of Emma’s room all over again.

Grayson hadn’t experienced a lot of moments of pride in his lifetime. There were a few he could pinpoint - when Ethan won one of their wrestling tournaments in middle school, when their team won their lacrosse championship. When his mom’s salon won best in the city a few years back, when his sister graduated college. But what he felt in that next moment topped every single one.

The dean of the college of sciences asked everyone to hold their applause, and without any prior consulting, Indy’s entire squad ignored the rule.

“Indiana Jamie Cross. Bachelor’s of Biological Sciences. Summa Cum Laude.”

“WOOOOOO, YEAH DEE!” Grayson yelled it at the top of his lungs, not even noticing the way everyone turned to look at him. He could see Indy’s blush all the way from the stage as they all continued clapping until the next person was called.

For a moment he was afraid she was embarrassed, but when she took her seat again he saw her turn around and blow him a quick kiss. He caught it in the air and threw her a wink, excited to get to her to give her a real one, which was exactly what he did when she finally made it out of the stream of people at the end of the ceremony. Everyone’s hearts melted when he spun her around and planted one on her.

Charlie took a few more pictures of her with her diploma before Grayson spoke back up.

“Alright, coffee’s on me!”

It seemed to have gotten somewhat colder outside as the wind whipped around the buildings, and Indy curled into a much warmer Grayson as the group headed down the sidewalk. He moved his finger to her palm.

P-R-O-U-D-O-F-U

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her blush almost warm enough to soak through his coat.

But it was nothing compared to the redness that spread over her cheeks when she walked into Jets.

“HAPPY GRADUATION INDIANA!”

The cry was championed by Patrick, who stood in the lobby absolutely beaming at her, below a banner that they’d hung above the espresso bars that read the same. Indy didn’t have to ask - the grin on Grayson’s face gave it away. She wanted to ask him how long he’d planned that surprise, how many more he had in store. She felt woefully undeserving, especially when she realized that Patrick had shut down the store for an hour just for her.

“And I thought you giving me free coffee was bad for business,” she said in his ear when she hugged him.

“I don’t know what lover boy over there does but he covered normal sales for the hour and then some,” he mumbled.

One of the baristas handed Ethan a sign that read “closed for private celebration” to hang on the door, and then it was truly time to celebrate. Indy walked behind the bar like she had a million times before, happy to see that everything was still in the same place. Patrick threw her an apron that she jokingly tied on over her robe before she clapped her hands together.

“Alright, who wants what?”

She made some of her best latte art that day - leaves, a flower for Lisa, a slightly lopsided swan for Devin per his request. It felt nice to be in a familiar place doing something she was good at - it blanketed over the uncertainty that had begun to settle in when she realized that everything was on a trajectory of change. She would never sit in another undergraduate course, never have some of her favorite professors again. And there was always the factor of possibly looking at other schools - they all started their programs in the fall, which meant she had time to truly look, if she really wanted to. From her first tour of campus she’d always thought she would be at JCU for her whole academic career, but her mind began to wander when she heard the buzzing of all the other top schools that her cohort were applying to - Baylor, Harvard, and the one that had piqued her interest the most, UCLA.

She’d googled their admission rates one night when Grayson had fallen asleep during a back scratch, and her chances looked good. Really good. But she’d closed the tab quickly - LA was too far away from New York, from home.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” Grayson’s voice was soft as he clinked his mug against hers to get her attention.

“Just thinking,” she smiled, turning her head and tilting up until he kissed her quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Indiana hopped off her barstool and headed back behind the bar, following Patrick who had disappeared to the back storage room. It was like walking into a friend’s house you hadn’t been to in a while when she passed through the swinging door. The freezers on the left and the syrups in organized rows on her right, just like before.

“Don’t even think about trying to do any dishes while you’re here,” Patrick said, his back still to her as she moved to the sink. She’d had too much time to think while she sat and waited for her name to be called during the ceremony - too much empty mental space that could be allotted to all the things she should be doing. Which meant she’d managed to hatch up a whole plan to better herself in more ways than one in a mere 20 minutes.

“Do you guys still have the same insurance policy for employees? Like the new health benefits, the mental health ones that you all put in like two months before I left?”

Patrick turned the water off.

“Yeah, insurance is the same, it covers four therapy sessions a month for anyone who qualifies. But that’s just for full time employees. But I could probably pull a few strings and get you some benefits with part time hours… is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine! I was just curious. Thanks.”

Indy turned to leave, jumping a bit when she realized that Charlie was behind her.

“What’re you doing back here?”

“I was looking for Patrick, there’s a delivery guy here with milk,” Charlie explained, but there was a seriousness in her brows that let Indy know that she had not only heard enough of the conversation, but that she was definitely going to have to talk about it later.

Damn.

She pushed the thought aside and put on another smile before they all exited the backroom, laughing at the sight of one of Ethan trying to steam milk. He turned at her entrance and lost his focus, moving the pitcher down too far and spraying almond milk everywhere before the barista who was helping him flipped the wand back up.

“Eden’s on facetime for you over there!” He pointed towards the counter and his phone, which Indy happily picked up to find a beaming Eden, who informed her that she’d sent a card that would probably be there a few days late, but she’d tried. She stayed on FaceTime while they all thanked Patrick again and headed back to the apartment, Lisa unveiling the gift pile and vegan cookie cake she’d managed to sneak in while Grayson had distracted Indiana with questions about his outfit choices. Almost every gift made Indiana cry - just the idea that they’d spent any time thinking about her was enough to have her emotional anyways. But between the blanket that Lisa had embroidered with JCU 20’, Ethan’s gift of a JCU Alumni sweatshirt and Indy’s dream record player that Charlie and Devin had got her, she was teary-eyed. Her mouth fell open when Grayson came out with a giant box from the spare room - she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how he’d managed to sneak it in past her - but she didn’t care when she unwrapped it and realized it was a Mastrena.

“You bought me an espresso machine? Grayson! These things cost a fortune!”

“Yeah, but you graduated college! And now you can make lattes all the time.”

“Gray-”

“And you can make me lattes,” he teased, knowing it would take her a while to fully accept it. She just shook her head when he kissed her cheek, overwhelmed.

By the time the night was coming to a close, everyone was piled onto the couch, with Charlie and Indy on their boyfriend’s laps to make room for everyone as they watched Collateral Beauty at Indy’s request. Grayson frowned when she sniffled and held her when she cried, eyes more focused on her than the screen. And he couldn’t say he was too sad to see Lisa and Ethan say goodbye, or for Devin and Charlie to say their goodnights before they disappeared into the spare room.

The duo brushed their teeth in the sink side by side, and Grayson snapped a picture of them in the mirror with a foamy smile before they stripped down to underwear and scurried under the covers.

Indy was just as glad to have him to herself for the first time all day, and she soaked in his warmth, sighing when he pulled her closer.

“I love you. Thank you for today.”

Y-O-U-R-E-W-E-L-C-O-M-E he traced on her shoulder blade, lips on her forehead.

T-I-R-E-D?

“Why?” Grayson smirked, laughing quietly when she smacked his chest.

“It’s been a long day, that’s why.”

“For you,” he corrected.

“You had to sit around and watch me all day though.”

“You say that as if it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy. I could celebrate you everyday baby.”

She blushed at his words, burying her face in his neck.

“For someone as accomplished as you, you really suck at letting people acknowledge your accomplishments,” he teased, running his fingertips over her skin lightly. She did the same over his chest, tracing a hexagon.

“I’m… I’m not used to people being proud of me I guess.”

Grayson frowned and pulled back and looked at her, really looked in her eyes. They were still the color of the jellyfish, just a bit duller in the low light of her bedroom.

“I’m proud of you Indiana.” He paused, offering her a small smile. “But you know what? I’m not the most proud.”

Indy waited.

“Your mom. She’s gotta be the most proud of you. She’s seen every single minute you put in to get where you are right now.”

She crumpled into his chest, and the tears that had threatened her all day finally fell, hot and salty as they traveled onto his skin. It was quiet in the room for a while, and Grayson waited patiently - quietly, until she spoke again.

“I felt her today. She was there.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t see her or anything. But I had a dream about her the other night though, and it felt like she was really there with me. And it felt like that today too. Does that ever happen to you? With your dad?”

“Oh all the time. He’s always with me. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times - like when I’m about to do stupid shit, or make a mistake, I can hear him clear as day in my head. But it’s comforting, you know? Knowing they’re there, watching over us.”

“Yeah.” Indy’s throat was tight all over again. She wished she could have met Sean for a moment, and then she realized that in some ways, in knowing Grayson, she had.

“You know, one of the things that really stuck with me, towards the end, was something his nurse said. Her name was Charlotte, and she must have been working fucking overtime because she was always there. But one day I was in the hallway, cause I just needed a break, and she came and sat down next to me on the floor. And at that point, I mean we knew. We didn’t know when, but we knew. And she looked at me and she said ‘sweetheart, this is a gift for him. He gets so much more time with you, because he can always be with you instead of only sometimes.’ And I remember, I was so fucking mad at her, because who the fuck says that shit to someone whose about to lose their parent? But she was right. She was so fucking right.

“And while the doctors were in and out, giving us all these numbers and all these timelines and all that, Charlotte was the only one who really told me anything that mattered. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my dad didn’t want to know anything about his… his cancer. He didn’t want to know his counts, or how much time he had left. He never asked, and she was the only one who stood by him in that, made sure that he didn’t know anything he didn’t want to. And it meant so much to him, in the end, that he had that choice. That was one of the only things he asked us to do, before he went. He told us not to cry, and he told us to take care of Ma, and Cam, but he told us to look out for Charlotte too. When we could think, we went back to the unit, asked the other nurses if there was anything she needed, and it turns out she’d been driving a 1995 Honda for a decade, and she didn’t think it would make it through the rest of the winter. We bought her an SUV, and I still don’t think she knows it was us, but I swear my dad told me which one to get for her. And he was so fucking proud.”

Indiana hung on his every word, watching him as he watched the ceiling, like he always did when he talked about his father.

“He has so much to be proud of Grayson. He helped raise a wonderful, wonderful man. The best, actually.”

Her voice snapped him out of his own head, and he turned to her quickly, worried.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, don’t ever apologize for that. I like hearing about your dad, and it’s good to get it out sometimes. You can tell me anything that’s on your mind, you know that.”

He looked at her, there in his arms, eyes a bit puffy from tears passed, that soft smile on her lips that was somehow more endearing than her full one, and he felt tears of his own start to prickle. He knew she meant it, knew she would be understanding, and that somehow made it worse.

What was he supposed to say? I love you so much, and I think you’re the love of my life, but our lives are completely different, and I promised I wouldn’t ask you to go to LA, and I’m terrified of losing you and I don’t want to hurt you.

His lips parted, and then he closed them again. She yawned so hard that her nose scrunched, and when she was done she curled back up against his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

“M’tired,” she mumbled, which meant she was already half asleep.

He pulled the covers over her shoulders and kissed her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, tracing the same letters she spoke.

“I love you more.” His voice was tight as his finger moved against the back of her arm, and he turned the lamp off before any of his tears fell.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

When Indiana woke up, Grayson’s arms were like a cage around her. Usually, they were still somewhat intertwined when they woke, but she’d never had to maneuver her way out of his arms with so much force before.

She finally managed it, and replaced herself with a pillow that he gladly pulled to his chest. Indy couldn’t help but to lean over and brush some of his floppy hair out of his eyes, staring for a moment before she pulled herself away and headed into the kitchen.

The reason for her early wake up was standing in front of the fridge, with a head of blonde hair that resembled a birds nest.

When she turned around, she looked guilty as ever.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Nah,” Indy reassured her sister with a smile, moving over to the coffee machine. “It’s 10 anyways, I’m surprised I slept that long.”

Grayson had gotten her a newer version that was actually fairly quiet, but she made sure both the bedroom doors were shut before she ground the espresso for her latte, and Charlie’s flat white.

Charlie was nice enough to wait until she had her mug to bring it up.

“So.”

Indy sighed. “So.”

“You asked Patrick about insurance stuff.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going to work there again?”

“I have to pay rent somehow, don’t I?”

“Dad pays your rent.”

“I don’t want dad to pay my rent, that’s the whole issue.”

“Okay, but you didn’t ask Patrick about salary, you asked him about insurance. For mental health specifically.”

“You know, it’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Are you okay? Because you know that you can always talk to me about stuff, whatever it is. And I know I’m not the best about talking about mom, but I can try, I’ve been doing better with it and-”

“Char. Stop. It’s not about mom.”

“Oh.” It was obvious by her long pause that she hadn’t considered an alternative, but Indy waited anyways.

“Then… what’s going on?”

Indy toyed with the foam on her latte with her finger, ignoring how hot it was.

“I was thinking about trying to get a handle on the plane thing.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want it to be such a big deal for me to just, fucking fly somewhere. I gotta get over that shit.”

Charlie pondered it for a minute, and she chose her next words carefully.

“Just to fly? Or to fly to a specific place.”

Indy laughed.

“You know, you’ve never been good at subtle. You got that from mom. But no, I’m not just doing it because of Grayson.”

“Did he ask you to?”

“Of course not, he wouldn’t do that.” Charlie’s shoulders relaxed. “But he does live in LA, which means I’ve gotta be able to fly out there.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Oh. Doesn’t he leave soon though?”

“January.” She said it casually.

“Inds that’s next month.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Charlie had a million more questions, but she held her tongue and sipped her coffee.

“I’ve gotta pack, our flight leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming you don’t have any breakfast food.”

“Actually, I do, but I’m not the breakfast chef around here.”

She sat her mug down on the counter and threw Charlie a wink before she headed back into her room as quietly as she could, sneaking up to the edge of the bed. Grayson had rolled to his stomach, something in his unconscious realizing that the pillow that he’d tossed away was in fact not his girlfriend. He almost looked too adorable to disturb.

Almost.

She went the gentle route, changing her mind on the pounce plan that she’d originally made. Instead, she crawled up the mattress and over his back, laying down on top of him with her cheek pressed to his warm shoulder.

He grunted a bit, but it turned into a sigh when she started peppering kisses along his skin.

“Mornin gorgeous,” he grumbled, eyes still closed. “What’re you doin’ back there?”

“Just hanging out.”

“Well- “ he rolled slightly, just enough to pull her over his side and onto the mattress so he could move right back with her underneath him -” maybe you should hang out down here instead.”

She relaxed into him like she always did, peppering kisses against his chest. Her hands ran over the ripples of muscles in his arms before she stopped and traced.

B-R-E-A-K-F-A

“Ahhh, so you didn’t just come in here for cuddles huh,” Grayson cut her off with a smile, quirking an eyebrow when she looked up at him.

“If you make us all avocado toast I’ll pay you in cuddles,” she offered. It puffed up Grayson’s chef alter ego just enough to convince him to get out of bed and throw some pants on. Indy stayed closed to him, soaking up the last bits of warmth from the morning as she helped him prep everything for breakfast. She could have done it, but Grayson’s pride at a very nicely laid out plate of avo toast, strawberries and honeydew was the best addition she could make. So she stuck to the coffees instead, passing over mugs as Devin appeared and Charlie followed, though she was still working on her cup from earlier.

“Well, now I see how he turned you into a breakfast person,” she said, graciously accepting a plate. They ate over quiet conversation, enjoying the last little bit of time they had before the airport and the inevitable goodbye. Grayson had bonded with the duo even more during their visit, and he was sad to see them having to leave again so soon. When Indy went to change, Grayson followed her, frowning when she didn’t pick her warmest jacket.

“It’s supposed to get really cold out, you’ll probably want your big one,” he said as subtly as he could, popping his knuckles as he spoke.

“I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer today,” she pouted. “We’re only gonna be outside to walk to the car.”

“Right, but you’re always cold. Just wear that one.” He gave her his most dazzling smile and she gave in, sliding in on before she left. Grayson was grateful that she listened - it meant he didn’t have to reveal his final graduation surprise too soon. He bit his tongue on the drive to the airport, gave out his hugs to Charlie and Devin, squeezing Indy into his side when she sniffled at the sight of her sister disappearing into the terminal.

Indy didn’t have a single suspicion until Grayson took a different turn into the city, much earlier than usual - 50th, instead of 26th.

“Bub? This is the wrong way.”

“No it isn’t.”

“We get off on 26th for the garage.”

“We aren’t going to the garage.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face - the sheepish one that always made Indy’s heart flutter. She’d seen it so many times, but it still had the same effect on her every single time.

“Well then where are we going?” There was a childlike excitement in her voice that made Grayson laugh. He pulled her hand up to his face, kissed her skin softly.

“You’ll see.”

The first stop it seemed, was a jewelry store.

“This is not the surprise by the way, just an errand. Gotta pick up a christmas gift for mom.”

“I was gonna get her a sweater for christmas, do you think she’ll like that?”

“Li does love a good sweater. She’ll love anything you get her though, you’re the favorite.”

Indy rolled her eyes but didn’t respond as one of the workers came up and asked what they were there for. When Grayson gave his name she headed to the back and came back out with a small box.

“May I?” She asked.

Grayson nodded, waiting for her to open it. Inside was a beautiful ring, silver and delicate, with a large light blue stone in a princess cut.

“It’s beautiful,” Indy mused.

“Blue topaz. My dad’s birthstone. Mine and E’s too. You think she’ll like it?”

“Gray she’ll love it, of course she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” His nerves were evident - he was always on a mission to make sure that his mom still had a good Christmas, although she always said all she needed was to have her kids back under her roof for the day. He paid the final portion of the ring payment and slipped the box into his pocket, waiting until they were back outside to turn to Indy with a wide smile.

“Now, we really celebrate.”

They walked hand in hand down the street. Indy kept her protests to herself - she wasn’t used to being spoiled in any way. In fact, it still made her uncomfortable when anyone spent money on her in any form, but she tried to remind herself that money didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her. So when they strolled up to one of the nicer restaurants in the city for a late lunch, she bit her tongue and tried not to think about the prices, following him inside to the warmth. It was dimly lit, the type of place where the host would take your coat off and pull your chair out for you.

Grayson beat him to it, fingers brushing over her shoulders while he pulled her coat off. She felt underdressed in just jeans and a sweater, but he looked at her like she hung the moon for him and him alone, and she wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day in their lives together that he couldn’t make her blush just by looking at her.

The menu didn’t even have prices next to the items, and it made Indy’s mouth dry enough for her to finish her water before the waiter even came back for their order.

Grayson noticed. He always noticed. He reached a hand across the small table for her hand, thumb running over her smooth acrylics that she’d gotten pre-graduation.

“Why are you nervous bub?”

“This place is expensive,” she explained after a moment’s hesitation.

“And graduating college a year early is a feat worth celebrating,” he reminded her, raising up his wine glass filled with water. “Despite the fact that you seem to hate being celebrated.”

“I don’t hate being celebrated. I’m just… not used to it I guess. Wasn’t a big Cross family thing, even before.”

“Well, it’s a big Dolan family thing.”

“I guess I better get used to it then.”

She clinked her glass against his as he swallowed hard, the movement of his throat hidden by the lighting. He pushed the thoughts from his head, the constant nagging he seemed to never be able to escape from, the better part of his conscience begging him to do the right thing, to tell her what he was thinking. She didn’t deserve for him to drag it out if he really was going to end things - she deserved so much more, more than he could give her with the life that he led. But every time he thought he had the courage to say something she’d reel him back in with a smile, or a witty comment, or just a look, entirely unaware of what she was doing. And he couldn’t imagine her anywhere else but the spot that she’d managed to carve out in his soul in just a few short months. He knew deep down he’d never find anyone else to fill it, but he also knew that she deserved to live the life she wanted to. A life without a boyfriend whose life interfered with hers. He just didn’t know how to reconcile with the fact that he would break her heart, and his own in the process.

So, he ignored his conscience and gave in to the selfish side of himself.

When she asked where he’d gone, he said he was planning, and it wasn’t a lie. If he was only going to have so many days with her, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice a single moment.

So he held her hand on top of the table while they waited for their food, striking up a conversation about college memories and her classmates that she would miss the most. The food was as incredible as he expected, and he made a mental note to thank Ethan for the recommendation. Grayson made sure that Indy didn’t see the inside of the bill when the waiter brought it, even being careful to slip the $200 in cash in the billfold practically under the table.

He led her back out into the cold, for once thankful for the early sunset of NYC that already had the city lights glowing against the fading sky. There was something magical about it, about existing on the streets with so many other people, knowing each one of them had their own story and life that they led. Indy people watched as Grayson led her safely down the streets, letting her cling onto his arm for comfort and warmth. It was only a few blocks until they saw the metallic flags and turned the corner to find the Rockefeller Center tree, massive and glorious in its height. It was speckled with what seemed like millions of lights, all twinkling in bright colors amongst the branches.

“Wow.”

Grayson watched the wonder on her face with a chuckle. “You’re a New Yorker, aren’t you supposed to be used to this shit?”

She smacked his arm, but kept her eyes forward. “I haven’t been to see it in years. It’s beautiful.”

He looked at her. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

He let her admire it as long as she wanted, resting his cheek against the top of her head when she leaned over on him.

“You wanna get closer?”

She frowned at him. “How?”

Grayson started walking with her in tow, down the stairs and around the plaza until he got to the ground level, fishing two tickets out of his jacket pocket for the attendant at the front of the ice rink. Indiana squeezed his arm.

“Gray. Baby, this is so sweet, but I can’t skate for shit.”

“Why am I not surprised,” he laughed, shaking his head before he kissed her forehead. “I won’t let you fall. Promise.”

They checked out their skates quickly, lacing up on one of the benches before Indy rose on wobbly feet, immediately letting out a squeal and reaching for her boyfriend. He caught her with a laugh, adjusting his own balance before they started walking to the edge of the ice. That familiar Grayson confidence was evident as he stepped on, getting his bearings before he reached out a hand for her.

“C’mon, I’ve got you. You got this, just one foot at a time.”

She grabbed both his hands and let him counteract her weight as she tried to get her footing, finally finding her balance after a moment of wobbling.

“Okay, now push off with one foot and glide with the other. Like this.”

He went to let go to demonstrate, and she clung to his hands with a squeak. “Don’t let go!”

Grayson’s cackle bounced off the ice. “Okay, okay! I’m right here, you’re good. Just try.”

Indy didn’t like not being good at things. But god was she terrible at ice skating. It didn’t matter how much instruction Grayson tried to give her, it was like it refused to translate into the movement of her legs. She was adorable when she was frustrated, but Grayson wanted it to be enjoyable for her too, so after a few laps around of watching her struggle he slid behind her, hands solid on her hips.

“Just keep your legs and feet straight, and I’ll do the rest.”

She held onto his hands as he started to push her along - she’d forgotten that he was annoyingly athletic but the feeling of actually gliding across the ice kept her from teasing him about it. It was peaceful, and despite the crowd both on the ice and above them by the tree, she felt like they were the only two in the city.

Grayson took them through the middle after they’d gone around a few times, towards the center for one pass and she squeezed his hand when they got there.

“Wait, stop!”

He turned his skates, throwing a bit of ice onto her ankles on accident, peaking over her shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Turn me around. Please.”

He did as she asked, faster than he meant to, and it had her nails digging into his shoulders as he tried to hold her up without them both going down. She was breathing fast when he got them steady, quirking an eyebrow.

“We gotta take a picture in front of the tree!”

He obliged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning them slowly until the tree was behind them, snapping a few of the two of them smiling before he kissed her cheek, and then her lips, randomly pressing the button and hoping they were still in frame.

Her lips were cold against his, and tasted like the vanilla chapstick she’d put on before they’d left the restaurant. It sent tingles down the back of his neck that made him put his phone back in his pocket and pull her closer to him.

Wrong move. He’d never met someone so uncoordinated in his life, and it was the closest call of them all when her legs started to flail. His only hope of saving her from hitting the ice was to pick her up fully and hope that he could keep his balance with the sudden weight shift.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, clinging to his neck while he laughed.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he teased, and in a moment of confidence he dipped her down like they were dancing and kissed her again. The same tingle went down his neck, the hair there standing up, still there even when he sat her on her skates again, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist.

Above them, as if someone had turned on a machine, it began to snow. Big fluffy flakes fell around them, disappearing into Indy’s light hair and speckling the top of Grayson’s. It was magic in its simplest form, and Indy couldn’t help but beam at him.

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” he said, and he meant it.

They headed off the ice a few minutes before their session expired, unlacing their boots with numb fingers that they shoved in their pockets for the walk back to the truck. As soon as they climbed in the cab Grayson blasted the heat and opened an arm for Indy to cuddle up next to him. Once they were thawed enough, Grayson proposed the idea of hot chocolate, specifically to help the fact that Indy’s teeth were still chattering. Which was how they ended up at Jet’s 40 minutes later, squished together in the blue chair by the window, watching the snow fall as they sipped peppermint hot chocolates that Patrick had given them on the house. Grayson dropped a 20 in the tip jar anyways.

The lobby was busy, with people in and out constantly, wiping the snow off their shoes as best they could on the small doormat. They shuffled through the line, a few of them sitting down for a moment to wait for their names to be called. Indy was used to the bustle, though she felt a bit guilty that she wasn’t behind the bar helping out when she had the skills to. Instead, she just smiled any time a barista looked her way, and spent the rest of her time watching the snow outside.

Grayson’s eyes were on a girl. A few girls, actually, who looked oddly familiar though he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before. They’d sat at a table towards the back of the store, having come in right behind him and Indy. But since then they’d moved forward one table, and then another, and the not so subtle way that two of them had angled their phone had that familiar prickle at the back of his neck rising again. He shifted in his chair quickly, turning his head away and attempting to do his best to block the view of Indiana.

“Hey, you ready to get outta here?”

“Did you finish already?” She asked, surprised considering her cup was still half full.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just figured we could get home and change into some cozy pjs is all.”

“That sounds nice.” Indy moved in to kiss his cheek, and though he tried to pull away, he didn’t do it fast enough.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Two for two. “Let’s just get home.”

The walk was as short as ever, but it was enough time for Indy’s mind to race. Had he been annoyed that she said something about the restaurant being expensive? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to help her ice skate - most people could at least hold themselves up on the rails at least. But he’d seemed so happy, which somehow made her feel worse, that she’d missed it somehow.

By the time they made it to the elevator, she was borderline panicking.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did I do something?”

Her words broke Grayson out of his own thoughts, and he rushed into reassurances.

“No, it’s not you baby. It’s not, I promise.”

“Then what is it? And don’t say it’s nothing.”

“I’m good, really. Just wanted to get home.”

For the first time in her almost three months of knowing Grayson, she didn’t believe him. But she knew when to drop a subject, so she just nodded and followed him out of the elevator.

Half of Grayson’s wardrobe seemed to have migrated into Indy’s apartment, so it wasn’t hard to find cozy clothes that had them curled up together on the couch in no time. Grayson felt guilty, and tried to distract himself by running his fingers through her soft hair, tried to focus on the weight of her leaned against him. She was quiet as she scrolled through show after show, not really looking. She picked a random cooking show eventually just to fill the silence in the room, moving to lay across Graysons lap. His hand moved under her shirt, fingers still a bit cold as he ran them lightly over her skin.

She didn’t say anything, just glad to have him there with her. She traced on top of his sweatpants, shapes and words, L-O-V-E-Y-O-U and T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U. The fabric was so thick that he could barely make out what she was writing.

“Thank you? For what?”

She rolled over so she was looking up at him. “For today. For celebrating me.”

He traced a thumb over her cheek. “You’re welcome. I love you. So much.”

“C’mere,” Indy said, reaching up for him. It took some shifting, but eventually they got settled where they were laying together on the couch, with her pressed between the cushions and his chest. She was warm as she kissed him, slow and calculated, trying to get across to him that she was there for whatever he was going through without the words. He reciprocated, but his mind was still spinning, images of the girls and their phones behind his eyelids.

The kiss faded out into cuddles which faded into an uncomfortable silence that Indy was desperate to resolve.

“What’s the update on the tiny homes? Weren’t the floor guys supposed to come in yesterday?”

“Yeah, Ethan went out there and said they were almost done. We’ve got some interior designers coming out tomorrow and then they’ll be done-done,” Grayson explained, heart rate rising as yet another opportunity to tell her came up.

“They really got those done so fast. I guess that’s a perk of a tiny home though, not much floor space to floor. How often do you guys think you’re gonna come out and stay in them?”

He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to tell her.

“Well, actually-”

His phone buzzed in his pocket - a call from Ethan.

He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or annoyed, but he fished his phone out of his pocket anyways, sliding over to answer.

“Yo.”

“Hey, mom wants to put up the christmas decs tomorrow cause she still doesn’t have them up. You remember where we put the lights?”

“Yeah, they’re in the attic I think, with the tree.”

“Well, you’re the family santa, so get your ass out here early tomorrow to hang some lights. And bring Indy too, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Don’t make breakfast, we’ll bring donuts or something.”

“Fuck you, be here at 10.”

He hung up, making Grayson roll his eyes and look down at Indy.

“You up for Christmas decorating tomorrow at home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! But I’m sure as fuck not getting on the roof.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do the roof, you can do the stuff inside with Ma. Deal?”

“Deal,” she smiled, wiggling up to kiss him again, trying to chase out the rest of her worries before she curled up into his chest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The snow had piled onto the sides of the highway in ugly mounds stained with dirt and asphalt drudged up by the plows. So Indy kept her eyes on the trees as they flew by, specifically the evergreens she saw, with their green bristles weighted down with white, heavy and thick.

“Are you sure you guys wanna get on the roof with all this? Won’t it be slick?”

“Nah, Dad used to do it all the time. I’ll just make E shovel while I try to find the clips we put up there last year. Besides, if I fall off I’ve got a doctor to mend me up,” he teased, squeezing her leg.

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Okay, well an almost doctor then. How many years until you’re actually one again?”

“11 years minimum. Well, 10 for me cause I skipped a year in undergrad. But it could be up to 16, depending on how long my residency would go.”

“And you’re gonna do it all through JCU?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan right now,” she mumbled, eyes still focused out the window.

“Hey,” he got her attention, waiting for her to turn to him. “You’re gonna be an amazing doctor someday. You’re gonna help so many people. Just having you in the room, doing the little things for people, that’s gonna mean more to those people than you even realize. They’re gonna be really lucky to have you.”

The sentiment seemed to arise out of nowhere, but she still blushed at his kind words. “The little things are actually more the nurses, but thank you.”

He let her watch the trees for the rest of the drive, and she was so focused on them that she barely noticed Ethan already on the roof when they pulled in.

He had a bright orange shovel in his hands, the scoop full of snow that he began to swing back and forth once they stepped out of the car, shoes crunching the snow below them.

“Don’t you dare!” Indy called, but it was too late. The snow was already flying and she squealed, grabbing Grayson and pulling him out of the way while it rained down right where they had been standing.

A moment later and Lisa was outside, hands on her hip with the menacing energy only a mom could produce.

“Ethan Grant! That’s how you fall and bust your fucking head open! Knock it off!”

Grayson bit back a laugh when Ethan kicked a tiny bit more snow off the edge so it sprinkled down by Lisa.

“Will you get up there before he falls off please?” She turned to Grayson, exasperated. “Indy, come in, it’s cold.”

It was Indiana’s turn to laugh when Lisa hooked their arms together and led her into the house, leaving Grayson out in the snow. He grabbed the lights that Ethan had already gotten out, looping his arm through before he headed up the ladder at the lowest point of the roof.

“I’ve already done the other side of the house, so I’m just here for moral support and to save your ass if I need to, my job is done,” Ethan explained, moving over to a spot by the chimney to sit down.

“Oh yeah, you shoveled on a downhill slope, the horror,” Grayson muttered, but in all honesty he would rather do the lights himself anyways.

They talked about the tiny homes and the final touches they needed while Grayson moved around the roof carefully, trying to counteract his balance when he got closer to the edge, cursing his mom silently for having roofs so high that they couldn’t do it from the top of a ladder.

The front of the house went without incident, and Ethan begrudgingly helped by holding the extra lights while Gray strung them. But when Ethan went down the ladder to get the next strand to connect, he took a minute too long to come back up. Grayson tried to use what little patience he was born with, but it fizzled out quickly, making him stomp across the roof to the edge.

“Yo, what the fucks taking so long?”

“Gray.”

“Can you not find them or what?”

“Grayson.”

He didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice.

“What? What happened?”

“Come down here.”

Grayson took the ladder so quickly that his feet almost slipped, but he was at his brother’s side in a moment, taking his phone that he had outstretched.

His stomach dropped into the snow under his feet as he began to scroll with a numb thumb. There were pictures. So many pictures, and Indy was in every single one of them. Tweet after tweet with different screenshots of the two of them - looking at the tree, ice skating, sitting in Jets, even walking down the street. He pieced it together, realized that the reason the girls had looked familiar was because they’d followed them.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Bile rose in his throat when he found a video, zoomed in as far as it would go with surprising quality as he pushed Indy along on the ice, towards the middle of the rink. He watched her squeeze his hands and laugh, watched himself turn her around so they could get their picture, watched himself kiss her cheek and her lips.

He didn’t want to read, but he couldn’t help himself. There were a few familiar handles that talked about how happy they were for him, but the majority of it was exactly what he expected.

So much for ‘working on himself’ he’s back on the constant girlfriend trend

Didn’t think she was his type but okayyyyy I guess 🥴

When we said we didn’t want Grayson to end up with an LA girl, we didn’t mean ~that~

Her insta is indiana.jamie, i’ve never even heard of her

The worst was a two set of images from Jet’s, where her face was in plain view. The second one had edited lighting, and was zoomed in on his pocket, with the text above it.

Look I know I sound crazy but WTF IS IN HIS POCKET? IS THAT A RING BOX? GRAY BABY NOOOOOOO

“Fuck.” He couldn’t find another word, and Ethan was no help. A call from Adele came in on his phone, and E looked at him for approval. He just nodded and let him answer, turning away and heading into the house, not even bothering to clean his boots.

“Dee! Indiana!”

“In here!” She called back and he jogged into the living room, not realizing he was breathless until he got there and saw that the tree had been assembled. She had an ornament in her hand when he ran in and she put it on the tree quickly, her stomach tightening at the look on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Where’s your phone, have you looked at your phone?”

“It’s over there, it’s just been playing music. Baby what’s wrong?”

He ran over to it, muttering out a ‘shit’ when the screen lit up, both at the flood of notifications and the fact that her lockscreen had changed to their picture from the ice.

“Woah.” She took her phone from him, unlocking it and heading after all the notifications on instagram. “Holy shit. I got 3,500 new followers, what the fuck?”

“Indy, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She closed her phone and looked at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I should have thought about it, there’s not usually paps in New York, I didn’t even think about fans, and now everyone’s tweeting a bunch of bullshit about you, I’m just, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Slow down,” she murmured, hand moving to his face. She saw Lisa leave the room out of the corner of her eye, but she kept looking at Grayson. “It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen.”

“They saw the ring box in my pocket in some of the pictures, they probably think we’re fucking engaged, and they’re gonna be relentless. Every time you get online you’re gonna see some bullshit about you because of me.”

“Gray, it’s alright. It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t, nobody can, it’s gonna get to you. If you say it doesn’t effect you, you’re fucking lying.” He ran his hands through his hair and then down over his face, sucking in a breath that Indiana recognized.

“Gray, don’t cry. Look, look.” She unlocked her phone again, exited instagram and held down until it shook, deleting it quickly from her phone. “I don’t even post much anyways. And I don’t have a twitter, I’m not gonna see what they say about me. I don’t care, I promise you I don’t.”

Her gut told her a different story. Though it wasn’t her favorite quality of herself, Indy liked to be liked. It was natural, but she sought validation from other people more than she wanted to, and it made her dangerously curious to see what had caused such a visceral reaction in her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his head. She got up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s not your fault.”

And for the first time in his almost three months of knowing Indiana, he didn’t believe her.

#WOOOOOO #I hope you guys like it!#let me know what you think pls :')#mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfic

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sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

66. [6:04 pm]

“Damn it,” Mark cursed under his breath as the two of you exited the restaurant and was immediately met with menacing grey clouds that threatened to spill rain droplets over the innocent people roaming the streets. “We were supposed to have a picnic by the Han River, but I guess it’s not possible now…” He trailed off, clutching the bag of takeaway dakgalbi in disappointment, his shoulders slumped and his lips forming a deep pout.

“It’s fine, Mark,” You reassured, huddling closer to him as a strong gust of wind threatened to blow you away. You locked arms with his and guided both of you towards the subway entrance.

He huffed out a huge sigh. “I had the perfect date planned, Y/N! We were gonna get dessert at that bingsu place you like, then watch the sunset from Namsan Tower.” Mark continued, his sorrow clearly written all over his face.

“Mark, baby, I don’t mind,” You tugged him along, making sure that he got out his T-money card in time and urged him towards the correct train line that would take you two back to his apartment. “As cliché as this sounds, I honestly don’t care what we’re doing on our dates, as long as I get to spend quality time with you.”

It was true, considering how both of you were final year university students and already had insufficient time on your hands due to the continuous stream of work, assignments, tests and exams. You could understand Mark’s disappointment, though. This was only your third official date after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and he had planned each date meticulously, exceeding your expectations every single time.

Unfortunately, the past few weeks have been tough. Midsemester exams were coming up and Mark was bombarded by emails from the anxious first year students he tutored for a marketing unit. You had to prepare a presentation for your research project as well, and your supervising lecturer had been far less helpful than you’d imagined. Overall, the time apart made you miss him even more. It seemed like it was harder to meet up with Mark compared to before when you were just friends. Previously, the two of you made it a point to invite each other over for dinner or grab drinks together regularly. Now, it was getting nearly impossible to clear your schedules because of the urgency of your respective deadlines. Time with each other was scarce. You found a small part of yourself wishing to go back to those simpler days filled with impromptu meetups and midnight ramen sessions.

Miraculously, the two of you boarded the train and were fortunate enough to find two seats next to each other. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” Mark whispered close to your ears and pressed his warm lips against your temple. Your eyelids fluttered shut at his soft gesture. It had been nearly two months since Mark asked you to be his girlfriend, and you still hadn’t gotten used to his kisses. They always left a tingling sensation in your stomach.

A short fifteen minutes later, you entered Mark’s apartment. Although you had visited his humble abode many times before, you couldn’t help but to linger in front of the shelf standing beside the TV while your boyfriend got out the plates and cutlery. A fond smile worked its way onto your lips as you perused the vast collection of photos he had on display. There were older, framed family photos of the young Tuan siblings standing beside their seated parents, all wearing identically radiant smiles, and another faded picture of Mark’s baby photoshoot. A polaroid photo album that consisted of more recent snaps stood proudly in the centre, opened to a page containing Mark’s favourite polaroids. They were mostly from his trips back to LA with his family and close friends, and a couple from weekend getaways with his university friends.

Your gaze fell upon a particular polaroid that caught your eye. It was a candid shot of you taken by Mark on the night he asked you out. He had sent you a text near midnight asking you to come over for ramen. You turned up shortly after in slippers and an old band t-shirt with your hair messily tied up, the novel you were engrossed in tucked under your arms. As you leaned over the counter to catch a glimpse of his signature dish, Shin Ramyun with an egg (the egg whites for him and the yolk for you), he sneakily whipped out his Polaroid Camera and took a quick shot. Later that night, you nearly choked on the semi-runny egg yolk when he suggested that the two of you should go on a movie date together.

“Babe, food’s ready. Come and eat while it’s still hot.” He called as he made his way to the living room, placing the dakgalbi on the coffee table. “Are you looking at my photo shrine again?”

“Photo shrine?” You repeated, chuckling at your boyfriend’s interesting choice of words.

Mark unveiled the tasty prized possession as you sat cross-legged on the floor, beside him. “Yeah, it’s a photo shrine because it contains pictures of people and memories that hold a special meaning in my heart.” He gave you a lopsided smile as he waved a piece of fragrant, spicy stir-fried chicken in front of your lips, beckoning you to open your mouth. You accepted gratefully. “My favourite picture of all is the one of me lying on the ground with my sister’s baby on top of me.” He continued teasingly.

“Hey!” You let out a muffled exclamation as your mouth was filled with the well-seasoned meat, feigning jealousy over the fact that your polaroid wasn’t his favourite.

Mark laughed heartily, clearly amused at your reaction. “I’m just kidding. Of course yours is my favourite. You’re my favourite human.”

You hummed happily upon hearing that. “Are you sure about that, Tuan?”

Mark’s thumb came up to the corner of your lips to wipe off the reddish stain from the sauce. “Such a messy eater.” He commented as he raised the thumb to his own lips and licked the remnants off. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Y/N. I said you’re my favourite human, not my favourite living thing. Milo still takes the top spot.”

Right on cue, the white fluffy ball of fur trotted towards Mark from his usual resting place in his bedroom, tail wagging eagerly at the attention. “Hi Mi Mi, my baby. I’ve missed you.” He picked Milo up and cradled him in his arms, giving him several loud smooches as the puppy licked his lips.

You playfully sighed in defeat at the pair’s blatant display of affection. You were about to give him a snarky retort when you were abruptly disrupted by a deafening crack of thunder.

Milo padded over to the glass door leading to the balcony, barking furiously at the dark skies. The puppy refused to calm down until Mark scooped him up, babying and distracting him by scratching his favourite spot behind his ears. “Silly baby, it’s just the rain.”

“Great…” You remarked sarcastically. The summer rain usually lasted for hours, which meant that getting back to your place would be a huge hassle. “I’m gonna have so much fun taking public transport in this weather.”

Mark placed Milo down between the two of you and the puppy cosied up next to your feet, nudging you lightly with his head. The sight warmed your heart. You’ve known Mark ever since he got Milo and you’ve basically watched him grow up, but it was always a pleasant surprise when the puppy acted so comfortably around you. “Stay over then?”

You nearly choked on the dakgalbi that was halfway down your throat. A sip of water later, a soft “What?” left your lips.

It was the first time you would be sleeping over at each other’s houses, or sharing a bed, for that matter. Your response was totally understandable. Mark could feel the tips of his ears heat up and flush dark red, somewhat embarrassed that he brought up this topic in the first place. “I mean,” He added hastily. “I don’t want you going out and getting sick. I’ve got a towel and a spare toothbrush. You can take a shower, change into my t-shirt and a smaller pair of boxers. And I can take the couch if you’re not comfortable with sharing a bed.”

It was a very tempting proposal. You nibbled on your bottom lip, silently wondering whether it was too soon for you to sleep over at Mark’s. He did make a strong argument, though, and judging by the violent whacking of raindrops against the glass doors and windows, the rain outside was relentless and wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Staying dry and warm within the comforts of your boyfriend’s home definitely beats walking back in the rain. “Alright then,” You replied finally, putting a nervous and embarrassed Mark out of his misery.

“Okay.” He replied without missing a beat. “Sure, cool.” An awkward air hung above your heads at the thought of you spending the night at his place, of saying good night and good morning to each other in person. It was the next step in your relationship; yet doing domestic things like brushing your teeth next to each other and exchanging kisses filled with morning breath excited him to no end.

“But like,” You paused, uncertain. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. If that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, totally okay with me.” Mark said quickly, barely containing his smile. He tried to feed you another piece of chicken, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer. “Here, have some more.”

Mark stirred awake as his mind registered a ticklish, cold sensation near the bottom of his neck. Reluctantly, he blinked away the last traces of sleep from his eyes and stole a glance towards the source of his discomfort.

His eyes laid upon your sleeping figure and your face, framed by your mildly dishevelled hair, resting upon his chest and left arm. Your mouth was agape, indicating that the wet patch close to his collarbone was a result of your drooling. A small hand was splayed possessively across his torso, while your legs did a good job of tangling themselves with his. Soft snores were released amidst the chirping of birds outside his window. Despite the fact that he had lost all sensation in his left arm and was starting to get uncomfortably warm from the body heat you were emitting, he stayed as still as possible to admire you for a little longer.

Mark couldn’t stop beaming at the sight. He wouldn’t mind waking up to this every single day for the rest of his life.

So far, he had learned three things on your third date: you brushed your teeth in the funniest and most adorable way possible, you clung to him like a teddy bear in your sleep, and you were a heavy, heavy drooler.

It was almost as if you could sense him teasing you in his head. Just as he was preoccupying himself with counting your long and plentiful eyelashes, your body shifted in search of a comfier position. Mark thought it wasn’t physically possible for two bodies to get any closer, but you somehow managed to position your entire body on top of his.

“Babe,” He croaked, his morning voice gravelly and rough.

You cracked an eyelid open slowly, trying to face him but digging your chin into his chest in the process. Mark wiggled slightly at the discomfort. “Morning.” You yawned, seemingly unaware of your current position.

“Good morning to you too. Listen, I always say that you’re the perfect size and the perfect weight for me, but right now, can you please do me a favour and roll off my body?”

You complied, landing onto the other side of Mark’s single bed with a soft groan. “Right, m’sorry. How long was I there for?” Mark noted with amusement that when you were awake, you were far less clingy in bed. It seemed like you were purposely trying to maintain a distance between the two of you by lying as far away from him as possible.

“Not long, don’t be sorry.” His arms worked its way around your upper body and pulled you closer to him, returning you to your original position. “I want cuddles. Don’t run away from me, you were so eager to get closer when you were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t…” You denied weakly, burying your face into his muscle tee. You inhaled a deep breath of his scent, a mixture of fabric softener and vanilla body wash. It was familiar and comforting, which lulled you back into your slumber.

Mark chuckled as he sensed your body relax in his arms and heard your breathing deepen once more. “C’mere, gimme my morning kiss before you fall asleep again.”

Grumbling at the thought of Mark smelling your horrible breath, you leaned upwards to give him a quick peck. He wasn’t satisfied though, and held your head close to his, deepening the kiss with an expert flick of his tongue against your chapped lips. Sleepy and defenceless, you let him have his way with you. It was a slow, lazy make out session, but it still managed to leave you breathless. The two of you smiled in bliss once you pulled away.

“Okay, satisfied. Go sleep some more, sleepyhead.”

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iridescent-hallucinations · 4 years

Text

When the Night Comes Chapter 2

Mild Angst, Mental Health TW.

Summary: JJ shares a piece of her own darkness with Emily.

Pairing: Jennifer “JJ” Jareau x Emily Prentiss

Read it on AO3

“Pull it together Prentiss, this was not part of the plan” she muttered to herself, she grabbed the glasses and made her a way back into the other room.

Once they were settled, sitting on opposite sides of the room, a conscious choice that Emily had made, the women sat in a comfortable yet obviously loaded silence, drinking their drinks.

“How was the bar?” Emily asked, trying to figure out whether or not JJ wanted to talk, they could just sit in silence, she wouldn’t mind that at all.

“Yeah, it was alright, I beat a couple guys at darts, watched Morgan get 3 numbers, and left after Penelope found a dancing partner. I missed you there,” it was an innocent enough statement. Emily had missed them all too, it was the way JJ had kicked her shoes off and tucked her legs up under herself to get more comfortable that was taking Emily’s attention.

It scared her, how easy it was to lose herself in JJ, everything seemed so natural when she was around, familiar, like home. But then again, what would Emily Prentiss know about home? She’d never had a real one. The closest frame of reference she had was fake. Was him. The thought was enough for her to shut the blinds again, no light could enter or he would be seen too.

Emily cleared her throat before she spoke again, worried she would reveal too much if she didn’t think carefully before words came out, desperate to stop her thoughts from eating her whole.

“Sounds like a good night.”

The small talk seemed to appease JJ. Humming in confirmation, she looked around the room for the first time since she’d entered the apartment, really looked, and noticed that there was no music on, no television on, the room was really dimly lit. She couldn’t stop the confusion spreading across her face quickly enough for Emily to not notice it.

“Were you just sat here in silence?” JJ sounded more perplexed than she had intended and regretted asking the question.

The brunette recoiled slightly, a conversation about what she had been doing before JJ had shown up was not high on her list of things she wanted to do right now.

Emily laughed nervously, fidgeting in her seat.

“I was just about to find something to read before you got here, I promise I’m not some weirdo who just sits in their apartment in the dark on their own drinking at night,” she knew she was lying through her teeth, and that over explaining did nothing but throw suspicion on the situation, but JJ didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she was too polite to challenge the older woman.

They returned to a comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, basking in the dim orange glow of the singular lampshade in the corner of the room.

Clinging to the safety that the dull room offered, Emily found herself once again drifting into thoughts of Jennifer, ones that usually made her blush. Thankfully her cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol she’d consumed. If they weren’t she’d risk giving a little piece of herself away. Illicit thoughts of smooth skin and hot breath, of todays and tomorrows and forevers were only made more tangible by the brightness glowing around the blonde sat opposite her.

Her brain was getting ahead of itself, it was running away from her, being tempted by the warmth of Jennifer’s presence. Emily was beginning to spiral, starting to lose her footing in the dark. She knew that she was in dangerous territory, she risked exposure.

All the while JJ knew Emily was still unsure as to why she had come. If she were to be totally honest, she wasn’t sure she had known why either.

JJ had been silently observing the brunette for a few minutes, seeing the shadows that framed her body dance, almost taunting the blonde. Despite her fear of the dark, JJ felt no fear while watching Emily. It was surprising, ordinarily she would run from the dark. The darkness encapsulated memories JJ had spent years storing away, of bathtubs filled with tears and regret, of futures stolen and childhoods ended.

But with Emily; the darkness doesn’t seem so dark.

After years of avoiding the night at all costs, JJ felt herself drawn in, why else would she have shown up unannounced with no motive other than to be close to Emily? Reaching for her metaphorical flashlight, JJ had made her decision, time to reach out and see what mysteries lay within the shadows around Emily’s soul.

“Have I ever told you about my sister?” JJ asked, staring Emily down with determination, afraid that she’d retreat if she didn’t clutch to the reality of Emily’s honey brown eyes.

Waiting for a reply, JJ untucked her legs, reached forwards to place her now empty glass down, and returned her hands to her lap.

“No, I didn’t want to pry,” Emily replied, unable to ignore the sadness swimming in her friend’s gaze.

“It’s a long story, she was unhappy, no one could pull her out from the darkness that had consumed the vibrant girl she once was. I was only young, of course, I didn’t really understand mental illness back then, it was just a monster that came in the middle of the night and stole her from me,” JJ had lowered her gaze, now choosing to stare at her knuckles, which were beginning to turn white from the way her hands were wringing each other.

Emily considered her carefully, watching the conflict play across her features but not wanting to interrupt. She felt the weight of the younger woman’s words stab at her own chest and she wanted nothing more than to go back in time to try and pull both little girls out from the grip of blackness that had overwhelmed them.

The knowledge that JJ had too flirted with darkness also saddened the older women. Her own demons were lurking so close to the surface, always ready to latch on and throw her into the abyss, it hadn’t really occurred to her that such iridescence as JJ would know how it felt.

JJ continued her monologue, still staring into her own lap, hoping that by sharing this part of her life, Emily would begin to understand what she was really trying to say.

“That’s the thing about losing someone you love so young, they take a piece of you with them. You’re forever changed by their presence in your world, one moment they’re shaping the way you think, the next they’re suddenly gone, before you’ve been built into the person you’re supposed to be. Nothing can replace them and no one can finish the work they started. There was so much I didn’t know back then, my mom tried, she really did, but she had her own darkness to fight off.”

JJ finally lifted her eyes, wondering when the room had gotten so small, and why the air was suddenly so thick. Emily felt so close and yet still so much separated them.

When Emily finally had the chance to once again look at JJ, she was overwhelmed by a tugging in her chest. A sad smile appeared on the blonde’s face.

“I don’t really know where that came from, sorry,” JJ said, seeing the hurt written in Emily’s face, almost a reflection of her own.

“No, don’t apologise, I’m grateful that you feel safe enough to share this with me,” Emily replied, moving her glass to the coffee table so that she could smooth the fabric of her trousers with her hands.

“I suppose what I’m really trying to say is that it takes one to know one, and I can see you’ve been visited by the same darkness as me, I just need you to know that we care. That I care. Don’t ever think you have to be in that dark place alone,” JJ finished, as she unclasp her hands and felt the tension in her muscles begin to relax.

Emily was beginning to panic internally, but was determined to not let it show. There is far too much baggage in her past, like an old attic packed with years of trauma, while she lives in the house underneath, wondering when the ceiling would cave in from the weight of it all.

“I appreciate that Jayje, I really do, I’m so sorry you had to deal with all of that so young, it’s a lot for anyone, let alone a child,” her face softened as she imagined a little blonde girl with pig tails running around laughing one day and curled up in a ball crying the next.

Something about the way JJ was able to shelf her own trauma to offer a hand to Emily was so profound to her. How can one person carry so much weight and still offer to carry more without crumbling?

Jennifer Jareau was the strongest person Emily had ever met, and she deserved the best. And while she may not know everything like Spencer, Emily knew she was far from the best. She was compromised, she was broken, she was damaged beyond repair, but most of all, she was aching.

Emily ached from carrying her secrets, her muscles sore from withholding a sky full of night time. Her heart ached to reach out into the brightness of JJ’s soul, to allow the warmth to consume her instead of wandering eternally in a sunless cold.

A sudden jolt of electricity caused Emily to be resuscitated from her thoughts. Coming back to the present, she identified the source, JJ had walked over to her and was squatting in front of her, with her hand resting gently over Emily’s own.

“Hey, look at me, you went somewhere and left me behind,” JJ spoke softly, unsure as to when she’d become so bold but not questioning it.

As she was brought back to the room, Emily lifted her eyes from where JJ’s hand was covering over own up to the other woman’s face, seeing the way the blonde’s eyes flickered slightly, unable to decide where to look.

Emily’s other hand began to move without her consent, and before she could protest, it was cupping JJ’s cheek, stroking the soft skin there with its thumb. The warmth it found was so inviting and the fact that JJ hadn’t retreated at her touch caused her stomach to flip.

JJ’s eyelids softly shut at the contact as she inhaled, leaning in to the older woman’s touch. This time JJ felt the electricity between them too.

For when the light met the darkness a thousand fires burned. But when the darkness met the light, earthquakes erupted and tsunamis raged, the whole world stood still before spinning off its axis. The energy shared between them challenged a hundred supernovas and threatened to cause mass extinction. It could wreak havoc on ecosystems and tear apart the very fabric of time itself. However, in that moment, as they sat connected in mind and body, something else peaked through.

All these years of lurking in the supposed safety of shadows, Emily had forgotten, without light nothing grows. After all, it wasn’t until the Big Bang that life itself began.

#criminal minds #Jemily #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #I wrote a thing #when the night comes #chapter 2 #mental health tw

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mynameiscarat · 4 years

Text

There for him

y/n is basically from @phenomenally-thrombey’s headcanon

Being Jacob’s older sister and being in College Included (Link: https://phenomenally-thrombey.tumblr.com/post/610906383161884672/being-jacobs-older-sister-and-being-in-college)

Probably that’s the thing people call “tooth-rotting fluff”.

My English is broken, so dm me if you see any mistakes.

Sun was slowly setting, colouring pale winter sky rosy. Day ended, although clock just struck 7 pm. It was a beginning of December, time was closing to Christmas. You wanted to talk about getting a tree and decorations - you loved Christmas so much - but now, looking in faces of your mother, father and brother you understood it’s probably not the best time to do it. You all were having dinner... sort of. Donna and Walt were chatting crossly, eating their food without much interest. And Jacob was just staring into his plate, clearly disgusted. „Jacob, - you whispered, - eat, please. You didn't have anything at lunch.” He said nothing, as if he didn’t hear you. But the one who certainly heard you - your mum - looked at him and ordered: „Listen to your sister, young man. Stop making that face!” Jacob glanced at your parents and looked in his plate with even more disgust. „It's a junk. I won't eat it. - he snorted. - I want roastbeef. Roastbeef and yorkshire pudding with jam.” A terrible silence reigned in a kitchen. „Son, - said Walt, barely hiding his irritation, - you know that we can not afford those dishes anymore. Be happy with that you have now. We’re broke. I'm currently trying to start my own publishing house, your mother is a civil servant. At small position.” „So what? Because of that I have to starve? Isn't it your duty to care about me? I’m so freaking done with it!” Walt let out a bitter chuckle: „Probably if you'd been a bit better grandson, we wouldn't have become nobodies. Have you even thought about taking responsibility?” „And have you, father? You were messing with grandpa, and eventually he fed up. Good job! I'm sure your goddamn publishing house will bankrupt in two month.” Walt became deadly pale, his hand slowly rising: „You little son of a-” „Dad, no! - you yelled, terribly scared. - Don't hit Jay!” Walt looked at you: „Y/n, I-” „Please, dad, no!! Don't do it!” - you were practically begging. Jacob was silent, staring at his lap. Another second passed. „Go to your room. Jacob Archibald Thrombey. - said Walt eventually through clenched teeth. - You won't have dinner today.” And your brother stormed from a kitchen, face pale from rage. Then you heared how door in his room slammed. You were still listening, when Walt said: „Eat, dove. You are such a good girl. We are proud of you, y/n” „Jacob has so much ambitions, but I don't think there's anything behind them. - Donna added. - Jacob wants to be rich, powerful and respected. But I don't think he is able to make his way to this position. But you! - oh, you will get respect. You're still planing to be an architect, right?” You smiled weakly, but your thought were with your brother.

Once youve finished fried eggs and sausages, you swiftly went out from the kitchen and approached Jacob”s room. Door was locked. You knocked gently: „Jay, may I-” „Fuck off, bitch!” - yelled he. No, not now. You sighed and made your way to your small room. It was a really small room. You managed to place there your bed and writing table only. Even your clothes had to be kept in parents room, which was slightly bigger. Jacob, actually, tried to occupy it but failed. All your apartment, with kitchen, bathroom and three rooms could fit into one room in Thrombey's house... Martha's house. You didn”t want to be cross at her, you really didn't. You understood that she was there for Harlan when no one else was. That she was honest, kind and absolute goody-two-shooes. That she, eventually, deserved the house. But now memories about this wonderful house returned... Christmas memories. In the hall a huge Christmas tree stands, bright lights everywhere. More and more presents are arriving. Wonderfull smell of turkey and potatoes, stuffed in the oven, fills the house. And you and Jacob sits before TV, rewatching «How Grinch stole christmas» and eating candy. „You're a real-life Grinch!” - say you, and Jacob smiles with this wide and evil smile... You sighed again and stared out. Snowfall begun.

You didn’t even understand what happened. Glowing watches on a shelf showed half passed one. The room were dark, parents were snorting in their room, you could hear it very clearly. But there was something else. Through cracking of a floor, parent's snorts and howling of the wind you heard another sound that really woke you. There was something like whimpering... very light, barely audible - but heartwreching even in slumber. That's why you woke up. You jumped off your bed and run into Jacob”s room. He was tossing and turning in his bed, moaning, like he was in pain. You shook him: „Jacob, wake up! Please, dear, wake up, it's just a dream” And he opened his eyes, pure terror in them. „I couldn't find the exit... - he croaked. - There were no exit, like only room and a hallway, but I couldn't go out, I-” „It's just a nightmare, - you whispered, helping him to sit. - You fell asleep hungry and had a nightmare. But now it's okay, I'm here. Do you want me to find you something to eat?” You didn't get a proper responce, but still went to the kitchen. You spred four pieces of bread with butter and honey and made two cups of milky tea. You returned to Jacob's room with tray, proud of not waking your parents up. You found your brother in the same position, hugging his knees and staring blankly into the void. „Here, - you said, - I've brought food. Don't you think it's cool to have a night snack from time to time?” Jacob said nothing. He ate his bread and butter, and then yours, but didn't touch his tea. „Come on, - you gently urged him, - your tea will get cold” He obediently took a cup and drank it in one gulp. You stared at him. You didn't like when he was sarcastic, or bitter, or rude to you, good god, you didn't - but this doll-like state of his was even worse. „Jacob, please, tell me, what are you thinking about? - you said, taking his hand. He firstly tried to pull his hand out, but this time your grip was strong.” And then he said: „How on earth we're going to live?” You blinked: „What?” „Am I speaking Russian, y/n? I said, how we're going to live? Don't you see where it's going? Dad is a crappy businessman, and mom will never earn enough for four peope! We don't starve now? But we will! I hate this old bastard so much, I hope he suffered before he died, how could he, how could-” „Jacob” - you started seriously, but then you noticed how a tear rolled down your brother's cheek. Your swallowed. You wanted to comfort him so much, to hold him close to you. But you knew you have to act slowly and at ease to succeed - or he will kick you out. „Jacob, - now your tone was low and steady, - please, listen to me. It's only your fear. Your perception is a bit curved. We were upper-class, we lived in luxury. And now we will just become the middle-class. It doesn't mean starvation. I'm absolutely sure dad will establish his publishing house, because he's smart and knows so much about publishing business - and because he loves us. He doesn't want us, his family, to be poor. There are, actually, some virtues in our position. We don't have grandpa's money, right, but on the other hand we're independent now. We don't have to act nicely with anyone if we don't want to” While you were talking, you slowly moved closer, put your hands on Jacob's shoulders and then - on his back. And after that you hugged him tightly, unable to restrain a sigh. You didn't expect much, but then this happened. Jacob, your nasty, supposedly heartless brother hugged you back and put his head on your shoulder. Such thing happened only once, five years ago, when you fell ill with a serious flu. You could barely breath. You forgot when you were so happy last time. „Jacob, Jacob, - you whispered, rocking him gently, - do you want me to stay with you this night?” He nodded. You turned out the lamp and got into bed. There was a moment when you got scared he won't let you hug him again, but he snuggled to you eagerly. „Rest, honey. - you kissed his forehead. - We will be fine. Believe me. We will be fine, we will be happy. I can even built another home one day, just for us. I can do it. I will be an architect, remember?” Soon his breathing became slow. He fell asleep. And you stayed awake for a bit longer, stroking his hair and back. Jacob was a difficult person, but you knew how to handle him. You loved your brother more than anything.

#jacob thrombey imagines #jacob thrombey x reader #jacob thrombey #jacob thrombey x sister reader #knives out x reader #knives out imagines #jacob's sibling #fluff #hurt/comfort

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alonely-dreamer · 5 years

Text

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 18

Summary: Sookie comes to learn her little sister’s got her life together while she has to rebuild everything.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2254

Masterlist

Spending the entire night with Jason and Sookie, cuddled in blankets, drinking hot coco with marshmallows… all of it seemed like a distant dream. A dream Brooklynne had had multiple times in the past year, once she thought would never happen again.

It was as hard for Sookie to get back to real life as it was for Brooklynne. Everyone in Bon Temps was so happy to not only hear about her return but also to see her again. The excuse Bill gave the police was very useful to shut anyone who was a little too curious. Of course, not everything was easy, and now that Sookie was back, it was a hard adjustment for Eric and Brooke to have a new roommate. So hard, in fact, that after only one day, Eric suggested they get a place of their own. A suggestion which, to her own surprise, she didn’t find uninteresting.

“Anywhere but Bon Temps,” Eric whispered so close to her hear she managed to hear him despite the terrible and terribly loud music playing in the club.

“You mean Shreveport,” she chuckled as she slid a hand in his hair, gently bringing his face to hers.

As per usual, she was sitting on his lap, on his ‘throne’. She had learnt to ignore the dozen pair of eyes, human or vampire, that were fixed on them for the entirety of the night. They were different, depending on their species. Mortals envied her. The undead judged him. Silently, of course. They knew what would happen if their sheriff caught them talking ill of his human.

The humans outside, however, weren’t so quiet or discreet about their judgmental ideas and hate. Steve Newlin’s following only grew bigger every day, ever since Russell went crazy on live TV, and a portion of it from Louisiana reunited every night in front of Fangtasia to spew their hatred all over its customers, be they vampire, or human. It did scare away most of the mortal clientele, though Fangtasia had been around for a while, and had, fortunately for business, loyal customers.

“What’s wrong with Shreveport?”

“What’s wrong with Bon Temps?”

He smirked. He liked it when she was challenging him. Always reminding him how perfect she was for him.

“We’d be close to Fangtasia. We wouldn’t have to fly here every night.”

“I like to fly,” she shrugged.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said with a grin.

“So, what do you want? To build a home under the club?”

“I would hate that as much as you would. I had an apartment in mind.”

“An apartment?”

He nodded. “UV protected windows, with a view…”

“Mmh… that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Wait until you see the view.”

“I don’t care about the view. As long as we’re together.”

She pulled him to her, his lips crashing onto hers. That was how the night almost always ended, except when a dumbass decided to get into a fight with the other dumbasses outside.

“Eric.”

The Viking chose to ignore his progeny, hoping she’d get the hint and leave them alone.

“Eric.”

“Not now, Pam,” he said between two intense kisses.

“We have a problem.”

Brooklynne moved away, both annoyed and frustrated, making the vampire growl.

“What is it?” he snarled.

“Some idiot outside got into a fight with the other idiots outside.”

“Can’t you handle it?”

“It’s Hoyt, Eric. Jessica’s human? The King’s progeny? Rings any bell?”

Eric sighed as he tried hard not to roll his eyes.

“Go, it’s fine,” Brooke told him, not even trying to hide her disappointment.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said before he stole another kiss from her.

“Oh, I know,” she smirked, not wanting him to leave in such a bad mood.

He chuckled as he got up, letting her slide gently onto the chair. Oh, how it made him feel to see her sitting there. She was never sexier than in his chair. She watched him leave, wiggling her fingers as he turned to her one last time. Left alone, she looked around the room, still feeling the eyes of the people there, humans still wishing they were in her position, vampires unhappy about their mortal queens. But as unhappy as they were, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, that she was, indeed, their queen.

***

Wrapped in Eric’s large grey shirt, Brooke was sound asleep in their bed, in the cool of his arms. She couldn’t remember the last time she got up before noon, but she was always awake before Eric, who only opened his eyes at sundown. She awoke particularly early that afternoon and she would usually stay in bed and go back to sleep but since Sookie was back she had been getting up sooner to spend as much time as possible with her before she had to leave for Fangtasia. She rubbed her eyes as she yawned, another hour of sleep wouldn’t have been so bad.

She didn’t bother dressing up and climbed the ladder carefully. She knew she could make all the noise in the world and it wouldn’t wake the vampire up, but she always tried to be considerate. Human habit.

She shielded her eyes from the sun of the early afternoon as she opened the doors of the fake wooden wardrobe. She heard voices coming from the kitchen and wondered who Sookie could’ve been with as she knew Jason was working. Besides, it sounded like a woman’s voice. It sounded like…

“Tara,” Brooklynne smiled as she stepped into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” a laugh escaped her as she went to hug her old friend.

“Hey Brooke, you’re up late,” Tara chuckled as she hugged her back.

“Or early, considering she went to bed at 6,” Sookie said with a grimace.

“Don’t tell me you spend your nights with that vampire,” Tara scolded the young telepath as she saw the logo of Fangtasia on her shirt.

“Her nights and her days,” Sookie informed her friend, “he lives here now.”

“He what?”

“Eric moved in months ago,” Brooke said as she made her way to the fridge.

“Are you telling me that psychopath who kidnapped and tortured Lafayette for weeks lives in this house?”

Brooklynne paused.

“First of all, he apologized for that, he even gave him a car. Second of all, yes, Tara, my boyfriend lives with me… in my house.”

“Lafayette’s terrified of that motherfucker, he can give him all the cars in the world it won’t change a thing!”

“And… this is still my house,” Sookie said.

“Actually… it isn’t,” Brooke wrinkled her nose. “The deed’s in my name now… I signed the papers and everything…” she continued as she closed the fridge, a bottle of orange juice in one hand.

“What?” Sookie breathed out as if she had just been punched in the heart.

“Legally I had to… since you were gone for so long… I’m sorry,” she shrugged. “But it’s still your house. It’s always gonna be your house. And Jason’s.”

“Great,” Sookie threw her hands in the air, “good thing I came back or you’d have sold my car next.”

“That’s not fair,” Brooklynne replied, offended. “I took care of your car, I took care of all your stuff.”

“I’m not staying one more second here, I don’t want your boyfriend to think I’m his dinner,” she said as she practically jumped off her chair and made her way to the back door.

“Tara, wait!”

“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Brooke called after her, but Tara wasn’t listening.

Sookie gave a disappointed and disapproving look to her sister before she went after her friend. Brooke shrugged, walked up to the shelf where they kept the glasses and poured herself a full glass of orange juice. She mumbled something as she brought it to her lips.

“And a good day to you to.”

***

Sookie was obviously mad when she came back. Tara had just come back from New-Orleans to see her and they had already been in a fight. It all made Brooklynne seriously reconsider Eric’s offer to move in that apartment in Shreveport, the one with the great view. Fortunately, the two sisters didn’t get the opportunity to argue about Eric again, as the phone rang as soon as she came back in the house, having failed to convince Tara to stay a little more.

“Who was it?” Brooklynne asked before taking another sip from her glass.

“Andy,” she sighed. “Jason didn’t come to work this morning and he’s not answering his phone.”

“Did he check his house?”

“He asked me to do it,” she answered as she took her car keys from the counter.

“Want me to come with…”

“No.”

Brooklynne silently watched her sister exit through the back door and quickly get into her car. After Sookie was gone, she washed the dishes, then took a long and cold shower, wondering what she should do while waiting for the night to come.

***

Brooklynne’s denial of Jason’s situation unnerved Sookie more than anything. Though Eric acted as usual, detached from any feeling and showing no particular worry, he did find it strange too. Maybe it was too hard for Brooklynne to even imagine that another one of her siblings was missing again out of nowhere with no clue as to where to find them. Or maybe it was just as she said, optimism and trust. Jason would come back. Like Sookie did. Eric didn’t dare say aloud what both he and Sookie thought: hopefully, it wouldn’t take a year.

“He’s probably with a girl,” she said to her sister. “He’ll be back in a week.”

Jason’s disappearance had one positive effect, at least, Sookie and Brooklynne weren’t arguing about Eric anymore. Especially since Eric had said he’d order some vampires to look for their brother. Sookie appreciated it, even if she wouldn’t say it aloud. But there was something else that bothered the eldest telepath, something that had been bothering her ever since she had come back from Alcide’s.

“Wasn’t he happy to see you?” Brooklynne asked as she put a plate down on the table.

“He was very happy to see me,” Sookie answered as she handed her the cutlery. She was cooking Adele’s famous sausage recipe, Jason’s favorite.

“Then what?” she insisted as she finished setting up the table.

“Debbie was there.”

“Yeah. They got back together a few months ago. She’s clean now.”

“Wait… you knew?”

Brooke shrugged. “Alcide helped us a lot when we were looking for you. We spent a lot of time together.”

“He kept whining about that V addicted werewolf who left him,” Eric said as he appeared from the living room.

“She needed help getting clean. Needed support,” Brooke continued as she gave a reproving look to the vampire. Eric ignored it and kissed her temple, a gesture she took as an apology. That was the best she’d get from him anyway.

“We’re out of Tru Blood,” Sookie informed the vampire.

“I know,” he told her as he slid his hands on Brooke’s waist, gently bringing her back to his chest before placing a kiss on her neck, where two puncture wounds could be seen.

Sookie grimaced as she turned around and got back to the stove where the sausages were about to burn. Brooke smiled before she put a kiss on Eric’s lips. She meant to get the glasses from the shelf, but Eric had something else in mind. He didn’t let her go from his arms and captured her lips, tightening his hold on her.

“Could you not?” Sookie sighed. “We’re about to eat.”

“I’m about to eat too,” he smirked, making her roll her eyes.

“Stop it,” Brooke giggled, wiggling out of Eric’s arms. “I’m not your dinner,” she playfully punched him in the arm.

“No?” he asked with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

She smiled back, bit her lower lip, then tiptoed and wrapped her arms around his neck before whispering in his ear.

“No, I’m your dessert.”

“Mmh, I like that.”

“Ew, stop it,” Sookie begged.

“You didn’t even hear what I said,” Brooke told her.

“I can read your mind, remember?”

“Then stay out of my head.”

As Sookie put the pan in the middle of the table, dinner being ready to be served, Eric’s phone started to ring.

“I thought Fangtasia was closed tonight,” Sookie said as she sat down.

“Fangtasia is never closed,” he told her before putting another kiss on Brooke’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Brooklynne sat across from Sookie and started eating, every bite reminded her of her grandmother, even the smell, as if Adele was right there with them.

“You’re the only one who can cook it perfectly.”

“It’s just sausages,” Sookie chuckled.

“Nothing new from Jason?”

“Afraid not… Andy said he’d file a missing person report tomorrow… I said he should have already done it but…”

“You know Jason… he’s just fooling around with a girl.”

“He hasn’t answered his phone in two days, Brooke.”

“So, it died,” she shrugged. “He’s too busy to notice.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sookie whispered, more to herself.

Eric stepped back in the kitchen with an annoyed look on his face. Though Sookie noticed, she didn’t bother asking him about it, she didn’t really care about his problems.

“What’s wrong?” Brooke asked.

“We have to go.”

“You can deal with your problems on your own, Eric,” Sookie told him. “Or ask Pam.”

“It’s Bill,” he said. “He has a job for us.”

**********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87 @heavenly1927 @abbey7103

#true blood #eric northman #eric x oc #sookie stackhouse #jason stackhouse #fanfic #fanfiction #oc #imagine #reader #eric x reader

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queenofcarrots · 5 years

Text

Manuscripts in Star Wars (And Star Wars Fan Fiction)

This is the text of a talk originally presented at the conference Fan Cultures and the Premodern World at Oxford University in July, 2019, organized by Dr. Juliana Dresvina of the Oxford History Faculty. This presentation represents a collaboration between myself and Dr Brandon Hawke of Rhode Island College, and is essentially a summation of our video project Sacred Texts: Codices Far, Far Away, (Introduction to the series at that link) and examples below will include links to brief conversations where Brandon and I talk about the examples in a bit more detail. This has also been posted on my academic blog but I’m cross-posting here to reach a different audience.

Hi, My name is Dot Porter, and I want to start by thanking Juliana for the wonderful organization of this conference, and also for including me in the program. This is very different from the kind of conference I normally present at – in my day job I’m a special collections curator at the University of Pennsylvania, specializing in medieval manuscripts, their digitization, and their post-digital lives. Basically I get paid to digitize medieval manuscripts and then play with them. (I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the Bibliotheca Philadelphiensis project, funded by the Council on Library and Information Resources, which is just finished, and through which we digitized and made available for reuse more than 465 codices from institutions in Philadelphia)

Aside from my family there are two things in life I adore: medieval manuscripts, and Star Wars. I must admit that while I am a scholar of manuscripts, of a sort, I am also a fan. I love manuscripts – the way they look, feel, smell; I love to hold a manuscript and think about all the other people who have touched it, and consider the signs of use that imply their long histories. This interest has led to current work on conceiving of medieval manuscripts as transformative works themselves, first presented at Leeds 2018 and work I’m continuing looking specifically as Books of Hours. (My original draft of this presentation featured some of this work, but it threatened to take over, so I axed it all; a blog post of my Leeds paper is on my blog, if you’re curious).

While I am arguably a manuscript scholar, I am most definitely not a scholar of fandom studies – you will, I’m sure, find my theory wanting – nor am I a scholar of Star Wars, but I am a fan. I do the things that fans do. I’m on Tumblr, although that platform is pretty dead now, and I have a fandom Twitter account, which is much more active. I write and consume fan fiction, and I regularly commission artwork to illustrate my stories and stories I would like to write. I have written exactly one notable meta, which was even picked up by the AV Club – they actually cited me, unlike many of the other websites, which only cited the person who stole my work and posted it on Reddit!

In Star Wars: The Last Jedi, released in December 2017, we were introduced, for the first time, to manuscripts in the Star Wars universe. I had avoided trailers and spoilers, so the first time I saw this was in the theater, and I was, as the kids say, shooketh. Not only one manuscript, but a whole shelf-full of them! And they’re important. Rey, our heroine, has been sent to the island of Ahch-to to bring Luke Skywalker back to help the Resistance, led by Luke’s sister General Leia Organa, defeat the First Order. Rey has been there for a day or so, following Luke around, making no headway, when she is called to the Uneti tree, a large, hollow, Force-sensitive tree that houses these manuscripts. It’s in the company of these books that Rey and Luke finally communicate with each other, when Rey admits that she has only recently come to the Force and that she needs Luke to train her to be a Jedi, and when Luke grudgingly agrees to give her some lessons, but also tells her that the Jedi must die. Exciting stuff, and the books are there to hear it.

According to Star Wars The Last Jedi: The Visual Dictionary, Luke Skywalker scoured the galaxy for these texts and collected them himself, storing them in the tree that we see in the film. So these texts weren’t originally all in one collection, they are from many different planets, potentially written in ten different places, ten different times, ten different languages and alphabets, although there’s only one we ever see in the film. The starwars.com blog post “Inside the Lucasfilm Archives: The Jedi Texts” gives us an up-close look at the prop book that was shown in the film; as you can see it’s a real book, written and bound, and even damaged. There are manuscripts in our collection at Penn that look not very unlike this book. It is a real manuscript.

This is one manuscript in the universe. What else do we know about manuscripts in star wars in general? To be honest: not much. But we do know that it is rare to write by hand (as opposed to writing with digital technology like data pads). In Claudia Gray’s novel Bloodlines, which takes place six years before The Last Jedi, Leia Organa is preparing for a fancy party when she finds a handwritten note at her seat, and she’s shocked: “Virtually nobody wrote any longer; it had been years since Leia had seen actual words handwritten in ink on anything but historical documents.” So it appears that, by the time the current films take place, there are no longer manuscripts being actively written in the galaxy, or at least it’s very rare.

Interestingly there is one character in the Sequel Trilogy who it is suggested knows how to write by hand: Kylo Ren, formerly Ben Solo. There is a scene – the same scene is actually shown three times, from three different points of view – where a young padawan Ben is sleeping and his Uncle, Luke Skywalker, comes to him and looks into his head, sensing great darkness in his dreams. Ben calls his lightsaber to either attack his uncle or defend himself against him, depending on the version of the scene, and in one of these shots we can see that he has a calligraphy set in his bedroom. We can see the set here, in a screenshot of his desk just before he calls his lightsaber over – which knocks over the pen and inkwell and jar of parchment scrolls in the process – and in The Art of Star Wars: The Last Jedi.

What else do we know about these specific books? There is concept art in The Art of Star Wars: The Last Jedi; including six internal pages and six shots of the bindings.

I remember looking at the concept art and thinking how alike and different they were from the manuscripts I’ve had the pleasure of working with at Penn, and I discovered that my Twitter mutual Brandon Hawke, an Assistant Professor of English at Rhode Island College, was having many of the same thoughts that I was. So in October of 2018, Brandon came down to Penn and we sat for hours in front of a green screen and talked about manuscripts and Star Wars, comparing books in the Penn collections to what we see of the manuscripts in the concept art. We’ve been posting snippets of our discussions on the Schoenberg Institute YouTube channel, and there’s a link at the top there if you want to check them out. So for most of the rest of this paper I’ll be walking through some of the possible comparisons between real manuscripts and the Star Wars manuscripts. I want to stress that we did this for fun, and not for science, and that we’re limited by the collections at Penn and by our own knowledge.

Consider yourself warned: The remainder of this presentation is essentially an educated fan, raving.

As far as Brandon and I have been able to determine, this is a previously unknown script in the Star Wars universe. When I saw it my mind immediately went to Ge’ez, shown here in an early 20th century book of Hymns from Ethiopia. There’s something about the blockiness that is just slightly curved, and a few of the letter forms are slightly similar although I don’t think that’s necessarily meaningful. (video)

We also made a comparison with Coptic, which is thinner, more curved, and perhaps a closer match. (video)

For the third example we looked not at the text, but at its layout on the page. We found a similarity with this 16th century collection of Persian poetry, both its illuminated header (similar in aspect to the illuminated blue line of text in the center of the ancient Jedi text) and the framing of the text. (video)

Aside from text, it is clear that the concept art of pages supplied to us here represent astronomical texts. This is really not surprising, considering that in the Star Wars universe we have a galaxy that seems to have been very closely connected, between planets and cultures, for a very long time, and so it makes sense that even the most ancient texts would be concerned with objects in the system – stars and planets and moons – and how they related to and interact with one another. And this is a major concern in medieval astronomical texts, too: these texts illustrate people trying to make sense of the system they live in, in the best way they know.

One of the pages in the jedi texts is the symbol of the Galactic Republic, but placed on some kind of chart, with characters dispersed through the chart and text – perhaps labels – along the outside. We found a similarity with this chart in LJS 57, a 14th century astronomical anthology from Spain. I don’t know exactly what this chart represents but I can tell you that astronomical texts are full of similar charts; it was one of the ways that medieval people made sense of the data they had available to them. (video)

Something similar is happening here, in LJS 449, a 15th century German medical and astronomical miscellany. These charts are perhaps a bit simpler than the Spanish chart, but they have that attractive blue coloring. Both the coloring and the arrangement of data around the circle reminded Brandon and me of the diagrams on this page of the Jedi texts. (video)

The next three slides show diagrams from LJS 26, a mid-13th century copy of Johannes de Sacro Bosco’s, Algorismus and Tractatum de sphaera, an immensely popular text that was copied and translated and commented upon from the time it was written in the early 13th century (it is possible that our copy was written during Sacrobosco’s lifetime) through the 16th century. It is full of diagrams illustrating the movement of the planets, and the sun, and the moon in relation to the earth. I personally find these diagrams most reminiscent of the two pages on the bottom left, although I feel like their organization suggests a sense of scale that is lacking in the medieval diagrams. (video)

Medieval astronomers only had to think about the earth, and the moon, and the sun, and a few other planets. On the other hand, the Star Wars universe operates on a whole other level – a galaxy with countless star systems and planets that aren’t even charted. When I look at these diagrams I see a clever attempt to illustrate scale using the relatively primitive technology of ink and paper in place of the star charts and 3D maps that we see in the films.

On the other hand, there are some really simple 1:1 comparisons to be made, such as this diagram, which pretty clearly illustrates the phases of a moon. (video)

I want to take a quick look at the bindings of these manuscripts, particularly this piece of concept art, which is quite similar to the prop that we see in the film.

This has a fairly standard binding structure, quite similar to LJS 102, the Ethiopic manuscript we looked at earlier, except for the front cover, which is built of three separate pieces that are obviously connected together. In western bindings, if a wooden cover were a composite of multiple pieces, we would expect that to be obscured, as in this late 13th century Catalonian manuscripts (It’s hard to tell, which is the point, but this cover is made of three pieces of wood).

The only example of a cover like this I’ve seen is from the Walters Art Museum, this 14th century Ethiopian Gospel book. The cover was broken and then sewn back together, but this was the result of an accident, not done on purpose.

My colleague Alberto Campagnolo also suggested that it is similar to the Chinese practice of writing on bamboo strips and binding them together, as in this 18th century example.

This is one instance where the artists who created these concepts have done an excellent job with suggesting a manuscript culture – in fact, several manuscript cultures, cultures that use what is available to them. There are two manuscripts here that appear to be bound in decorated tusks, one that has what appear to be shells embedded in a leather binding, and another that might be bound in hairy skin or – I like to think – had the binding grown on it underground. In any case these all suggest books written in different places, perhaps at different times, and as a manuscript scholar I find that fascinating.

Following up on this I wanted to see how the concept of the manuscripts was received by writers of fan fiction. As a fan author myself I have written a few stories featuring the ancient Jedi texts, but given my interests that made sense; I was curious to see what other authors have done with them. I think there’s more extensive work to be done here, but in reading through the 40 or so stories I was able to find (by searching AO3 for ancient jedi texts, and the “jedi text” tag) I discovered not surprisingly that the stories focused on the text of the books, not on their physical appearance (which is at least partially due to fan fiction being a written medium, vs. film being a visual medium) and that there are three main themes that can appear by themselves or be combined:

Rey can read the texts on her own, or she needs help (Kylo Ren, C3PO, Obi Wan Kenobi’s force ghost)

The translation is used to further the story (whether or not it happens)

The texts do something (e.g., magic spells)

What will happen next? Will there be manuscripts in the Rise of Skywalker, the final film in this last trilogy? Of course I hope so, and it seems likely. The Uneti tree was struck by lightning and burned, but Rey took the manuscripts with her (here is a screenshot of a drawer in the Millennium Falcon, at the very end of the film, showing the books clearly safe and tucked away)

and in the Poe Dameron comic #27 we learn that Rey has been working with C3PO to translate the texts.

And there’s also the spectre of Kylo Ren with a calligraphy set; if he had access to these manuscripts when he was studying with Luke Skywalker, it’s possible that he has read and perhaps even annotated some of the books. Only time will tell, and I for one can’t wait for December.

#star wars #meta #manuscripts #ancient jedi texts #jedi texts #medieval manuscripts

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maxparkhurst · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two: Tale of Two Siblings

“I, Samuel J. Parkhurst, a citizen of Boralus and Kul’tiran Kingdom;

And being of sound mind and memory,

Do hereby make, publish, and declare,

This to be my last will and testament.”

Maxinora sat the last of their boxes down, stretching her back with an audible pop as she surveyed their new room. It looked smaller than before now filled with both their presence and belongings; a lot smaller than their rooms back home. Home. There wasn’t a home in that big, empty house anymore. Home was here with Auntie and Uncle Cowen, Cousin Joseph, and most importantly Augustine. So long as she had him, she could make even this dust clogged attic home.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she stole a glance at him. He sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling off the side, and played with his two favorite toys; a stuffed fox and a wooden soldier. He tried to keep quiet about his play by whispering, but she still caught pieces of the story.

“ ‘C’tain! My C’tain! We must set to sail!’

‘STOP! There is a kraken in the waters.’

‘A kraken?! How will we cross?’

‘By hitting it!’ “

Max watched his emotive expressions growing more passionate as he became engrossed in play, and she had to admit he told good stories for only being four. It made her wonder what would happen when Augustine grew older. They’d need a bigger room, that was for sure. The attic space was tall enough for her to stand at a slight hunch and wide enough to fit a single bed. He’d need to crouch in the next few years.

By that time they’d be long gone. They’d move away from Boralus together with Max as his guardian.

But for now she’d make the best of their situation. She left Augustine to his play and opened the first of many boxes, a plan already forming in her mind.

***

The window made the attic tolerable. It dominated the southern wall and looked out over the front yard. Motes of dust drifted in the shaft of light it let in and made the room seem not as stuffy. It was Maxinora’s saving grace.

Max sat on its ledge, head pressed against the glass as she watched Augustine and Joseph run around the yard. A melancholy hung around her shoulders like a thick cowl. The mood came and went like a tide, some days it ebbed and others it came roaring in. Nothing shook it, not even the shrill of Augustine’s laughter drifting up from the garden. It gnawed a hole inside of her, one she thought would never be filled.

Did Augustine feel the same?

Their life had changed overnight. Max was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she opened the door, blearily staring up at the guards which brought the bad news. Their father was dead. She cried at his funeral, her hand gripping Augustine’s until the knuckles turned white. He only watched the procession with a blank stare, too young to know the difference. Or so she thought.

Augustine rarely slept through a night anymore, his tiny sobs waking Maxinora. His eyes glistened in the dark when she asked why he was still up. Nightmares, he’d tell her before throwing his arms around her neck. There he’d stay, clinging tight and begging her over and over again to never leave without him. All she could do was wrap an arm around him and keep him close, rubbing his back and whispering promise after promise until he eventually fell asleep.

He never spoke up either and other boys played mean tricks on him for it- Joseph being one of those boys. They took his toys and threw them in ponds, stole his story books and hid them in the garden, and sometimes they’d abandon him during a game of hide and seek and leave him hidden for hours. Auggie never said anything, never told, never argued, never complained. He laughed along with their games.

“Everything always ends up okay,” he once said to Max when she asked him about it. “My toys turn out fine, my books go back on the shelf, and someone always finds me before dinner.”

But those had all been Max’s doing. She’d been the one to fish out the toys and dry them. She’d been the one to dust off the books and unwrinkle the pages. She’d been the one to search high and low for him, finding him tucked under a brush or behind a log with tears in his eyes. But never once did he tell on anyone.

For someone so young, Maxinora thought as she caught a glimpse of Augustine bolting past the house, he holds so many emotions.

Maybe he feels the same as I do?

***

Augustine hated seeing Max cry.

Before they came to live with Auntie and Uncle, Max never cried. Not when Papa’s voice got loud or when the sky cracked with thunder. Augustine once saw her trip and tumble down the stairs, knocking her head at the bottom. He went and immediately got Papa, but by the time he returned Max had already gotten up and brushed herself off.

Another time Augustine watched as a spider dropped from the ceiling and landed on Max’s shoulder. She looked down at it, eyes wide and lips puckered in surprise. He ducked under the table with a yelp, tears already welling in his eyes, but she gave a shrug and smacked it dead. That was just how Max did things.

But ever since Papa left, Max cried a lot.

Auggie watched Max when they put Papa in the ground. She kept wiping at her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks. It was like she had sprung a leak. He tried to calm her down by wrapping his arms around her waist, but that only seemed to make her cry harder. Seeing it made his chest hurt and he too started to sob.

The days following Max and him spent packing their things. She tried not to let him see her cry by bowing her head and hiding her face in her knees, but he always noticed her shaking shoulders. He didn’t know what to do when she got like that, so he’d wandered off to go play with his toys until she’d called for him. By then her face would be red and puffy but she’d be calmer and little more like his older sister.

When they arrived at Auntie and Uncle’s, all the tears had practically dried up but the gloominess around her hadn’t subsided. Some days Max was fun and played with him. She read him his favorite stories and gave him piggy-back rides when he asked. Other days she stared out the window, looking at nothing in particular for hours and hours. Augustine wondered if maybe she’d be happier if she found friends her age. His friends always made the ickiness in him go away, even if their games weren’t always fun.

A day came when Max decided to follow him outside. It was one of her better days and she spent the afternoon in the sun, drawing in a thick, leather book. Her drawings were really, really good and Augustine loved each and every one of them. His favorites were the ones she drew of his fox and soldier. She drew them in their adventures and if he liked one in particular, she tore it out for him to hang over the bed.

Seeing her outside made the tightness in his chest lightened and he felt free to play. The other boys started a game of tag and Augustine was designated ‘it.’ He made a show of running real fast, despite knowing there’d be no catching the other boys, in order to impress his sister. Wheezing and doubled-over after a long chase, Augustine stole a glance over his shoulder to check if she was watching. What he saw gave him reason to pause.

A throng of girls surrounded Max. At first Auggie thought they’d come to play with his sister, and what wonderful thought that was, but her heavy set brow made him think otherwise. One of the girls held Max’s sketchbook between her finger and thumb, her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something bad. Max stepped up and beckoned for the book, but two of the other girls held her back by the shoulders. The lead girl snorted.

Auggie bristled at a tearing sound as she ripped a page from the book. Max bucked and another girl grabbed her by the waist. The lead girl waved the page in Max’s face and asked something. Auggie only caught one word- ‘witchcraft.’ Max shook her head and said something in reply, bucking again. The girl chuckled, crumbled the page, and started feverently tearing page after page from the book.

Augustine watched, mouth agape as pieces of Max’s drawings fluttered to the ground like snow. Their cackles drifted over to where the boys played and had garnered their attention. They were cackles that soon turned to screams.

He saw the anger growing in Max’s eyes. Her hands balled into shaking fists and her face turned bright red, her lips twisting up like a growling dog. She lunged and broke from the other girls’ grasps, tackling the leader.

Augustine bolted over to the scattering throng, his game abandoned and heart racing. By the time he made it over, adults had arrived and pulled Max off the girl. She sobbed into her sleeve, leaving a streak of mucus and red behind. Her hair looked matted and a chunk was missing from the back, the same chunk clenched tight in Max’s fist.

Tears dripped down Max’s cheeks as she panted, her arms pinned over her head by an older man. He kept yelling in her ear to calm down, jerking her back and forth as if she were a doll. Augustine saw how she shook in his arms; it made his stomach churn and something icky drip hot and angry in his stomach. He ran up to the man and beat his fists against his thigh.

Over the tin of it all, Augustine heard Joseph calling for their Aunt and Uncle. He kept beating his fists against the man, begging for him to let Max go until Uncle Cowen dragged them both home.

***

Max laid curled in bed, head tucked between her knees. Her throat burned and her knuckles stung from where she’d punched the girl. But most importantly, her stomach growled because she had been sent to bed without dinner.

A sniffle rocked her body making her wince. Her shoulders throbbed with a dull pain. The man who’d held her back wasn’t gentle.

I wasn’t very gentle either.

Shame settled to the bottom of Max’s stomach. What a display she caused. All in front of Augustine. She’s supposed to be the older one, supposed to know better, to be better. What must he think of her now?

She was thankful he was spared punishment. Now he couldn’t see her shed a few tears.

As she laid with her cheek pressed into a now damp pillow, her eyes caught the spine of her sketchbook. The leather backing was scuffed and scraped, its spine broken and more than half of the pages missing. All of her drawings, her research, her work... Gone. All because they didn’t understand.

Alchemy isn’t witchcraft. It’s science. There were rules set in place. Principles that didn’t waver. Magic was chaotic, messy, and uncontrollable- like people. Alchemy was orderly. She understood it. She only wished those girls had too.

“But people don’t like what they don’t understand,” she bitterly thought.

Max pushed herself up and retrieved the book. Her thumb flipped through the remaining pages. A few sketches were saved. They were some of Augustine’s favorites; the fox and the soldier. He’d be happy to know they survived the assault.

Tap, tap, a-taptap.

Max’s eyes darted to the door. A shadow passed and lingered over the sliver of light. She waited in the silence until she heard the knock again.

Tap, tap, a-taptap.

The ghost of a smile touched her lips as she wiped her eyes. “Come in.”

Augustine’s silhouette stood in the doorway, back-lit by the hall’s light. He stole a glance over his shoulder before pressing a finger to his lips and shutting the door. His hands cupped a bulge hidden under his shirt, and he wobbled to keep anything from spilling as he clambered in bed.

“Ta da!” he chimed in a hushed voice.

Three pastries tumbled from his shirt, dusting the sheets with powdered sugar. He beamed up at her and held one out. “S’ Mon’dazi. You’re favorite!”

Max’s lips curled in an uncontrollable smile as she took it between her thumb and index finger. They’d gone cold and flaky but smelled so awfully sweet it made her stomach growl. She took a ravenous bite, savoring the salty-sweet cream inside. When she looked down at Augustine, watching him tuck into his, she realized her vision had grown misty.

No more. No more tears.

She quickly dashed them away and stuffed her cheeks full with the rest of her Mon’dazi. Augustine chuckled as she sprayed him with sugar and giggled when she puffed out her cheeks. They split the last one and licked the sugar from their fingers before settling back in bed.

“I’m sorry about your book,” he said, breaking the comfortable quiet.

Maxinora stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye and smiled. Perhaps those girls had taken away her research, but they didn’t take what really mattered.

“It’s fine,” she admitted, “I can draw more.”

His eyes lit up and his smile grew. The sight made the melancholy ebb and Max drew him in for a side-hug.

“Does that mean you’ll go outside tomorrow?”

She paused.

“Sure.”

It was the first lie she’d ever told him.

Previous Chapter: A Bond We Both Share

Next Chapter: Alembic- Part One

#Prologue: Chapter Two #The Alchemists #Maxinora Parkhurst #Augustine Parkhurst #wyrmrest accord #RP Story #backstory #original writing #myheartburnsbright

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