#((now there's another film that's been highly sought after and feared almost entirely lost))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"I don't know quite yet what he'll do," Dorian admitted with a small shrug. "I've told him that he has a place in our home and always will, but that he doesn't have to be a butler if he doesn't want to be. He's appreciated the offer, but he hasn't told me just what his plan is yet."

Still, he couldn't help but smile, resting his head against his hand as he commented, "I'm so glad he's coming with us. I...I want him to stay a part of my life, and I...I want him to be a part of the lives of any children Elizabeth and I have together. He is my family, and I want to treat him as such."

For once, Beau wouldn't have the task of essentially raising a child (as he largely had to do, given the absence of the Gracey parents, often leaving the child-rearing to the staff while they went about their day), wouldn't have to play the role of parent and pedagogue, but could instead be what he largely was to Dorian in his youth-a doting uncle. Out of all the staff at Gracey Manor, Beau was the one who cut his young charge the most slack, letting him out of his lessons a little earlier, willing to let him indulge in sweets and games when his parents weren't looking, as well as treating him not just as his charge and pupil, but as a young friend, who he fondly watched grow up. As such, Dorian quite liked the idea of Beau getting to do the same with his children, who too would no doubt look upon him fondly as "Uncle Beau"-only this time, they wouldn't be reprimanded for addressing him as such.

"And, of course, any children Lizzie and I have will have their grandmother as well," he grinned, adding, "I do believe Mrs. Henshaw is not only giddy at the idea of having a son-in-law, but also having a grandchild to spoil. Lizzie's told me she's a little apprehensive about moving, she's lived in Louisiana all her life, but...she's also excited about her family growing."

It had just been Mrs. Lena Henshaw and her daughter for a lot of years, ever since Mr. Henshaw's death in a farm accident on the Gracey property when Elizabeth was five. It was something else the elder Henshaw and Mrs. June Pace were able to bond over: Louisiana natives, looked down on as working widows, who still loved and missed their husbands, and did all they could to support their beloved children.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Cosmic {1}

Lewis Tan x OFC Jupiter Azari

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Flirting, POV Changes, Fake Social Media Inserts

Words: 4k

Summary: Lewis has been single for three years after a stifling relationship that ended because of his reluctance to make a strong enough commitment. In that time, he’s focused on his career and living his life to the fullest. His goal was to have worthwhile experiences and make lasting connections. He’s got the experiences part down, but he’s never felt any sort of lasting connection until he’d seen your posts. After months of stalking your Instagram, he can’t stop thinking about you and decides to take a chance. Maybe it was time for him to take a chance on something new. 

Note: *Sigh* Another one, I know. *Deeper Sigh*. I apologize for the blurriness in some of the FAKE IG DMs. I’ve been working on this for so long, and finally, I can post a little something for it. Please tell me what you think. I am so excited to hear your thoughts.

Thank you guys so much for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/ Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Fake IG Post Creations***

-Lewis-

 He’d been single for a long time now. Three years. He’d been in a serious relationship for twice as long, so the math was right to him. There was no lying that he missed some of the advantages of relationships and having someone to journey through life’s ups and downs with. He missed things such as intimate dinner dates, entwining his fingers with someone else’s and relishing the feel of skin against skin, getting to know someone almost as well as he knew himself, and deep, fulfilling conversations. One of the most significant things he missed was companionship.

He knew he was not an unattractive guy. He also knew that being who he was, he could meet people effortlessly have a series of no strings attached romances where his physical needs were minimally satisfied for a short time. That was not a problem, but he’d long realized that was never enough for him. He needed more—a lot more. His busy schedule didn’t help matters at all, either. He was either on a flight every week or going between fight practice, meetings, filming, and a lot more. It took time to nourish a relationship and mold it so it could blossom into something strong and beautiful, time he just didn’t have. It was a simple fact—or so he thought.

 More and more, he’d been feeling as if maybe he could make that time; maybe he could find a way to have the highly sought after satisfying professional life but also that deeply fulfilling personal life. Maybe it was possible without having something or someone fall to the side. He began to think maybe he was ready to address his other needs.

 Groaning, he looked at the clock beside him. Two o’clock. Rolling out of bed, he walked into his bathroom. The day before was a long one; he hadn’t gotten in until nearly three in the morning. This was the first day in several that he’d been able to get more than seven hours of sleep. His body was telling him something. After tackling his hygiene routine, he pulled on a pair of his athletic quick-dry leggings and shorts then made his way to the back of his beach house.

It was another beautiful day in Spain, and he was ready to carpe diem the hell out of it—after he got his jog in. As he ran his standard four miles, his mind wandered to a variety of topics. He ran down his schedule for the next few days, went over his goals for the month, and made mental notes of things he needed to get done for the week. He believed in discipline, and the utmost show of discipline was having some over one’s life. Perhaps it was something he learned from his father as he trained in martial arts, or maybe it was a life lesson he’d picked up after so many years in the industry, both working and associating.

 By the time he plopped down onto the cool sand, almost two hours had passed, and he was sweaty and out of breath. He panted while gaping at the softy rolling waves and the faint sounds of the seagulls. It was a sight to be seen, one he was appreciative of. As he was getting lost in the view, a reminder popped up on his phone.

 *Social Media update*

 Sighing, he opened up his Instagram account and scrolled through his feed. If he didn’t set reminders for himself about social media, he would forget it entirely. He was one of those people who preferred to live life unfiltered and didn’t see a need to blog or vlog every little thing. He liked to share meaningful things. On the other hand, his team made it a priority for him to do more than share meaningful things. Their motto is if you’re not being seen or talked about, your brand and existence are inconsequential.

 So, four times a day, he had reminders set up. The plan was to engage with his fans while showing his personality. His agent’s exact words were; “Show the world what a swoon-worthy guy Lewis Tan is.”

 Just as he clicked over to his drafts, he registered her face. Quickly he tapped back onto his feed and on her recent post. It was an incredibly artistic photo of what could have been the universe, or even the mind’s third eye, or possibly a woman giving birth. It was just that subjective, but it was done in a way that made it seem as if you were looking through a kaleidoscope. He sat there marveling at the first photo, not even realizing there were three more that accompanied it.

 As he swiped through them, his mind was further blown. Each one gave off a psychedelic vibe. When he got to the last one, he found himself sighing out at the sight of her. The caption was,  “Art is subjective; who do you see?” Her face was one that easily held someone captive. Her eyes were impossibly deep and inviting. They drew him in, in a haunting and mysterious way. Even her username was creative as fuck. JupiterFallingToEarth.

 He’d spent weeks following her activity. She posted every day about once a day, sometimes two, and her posts ranged from artistic shots of landscapes, items, herself, and then she also posted products and fashion. It was clear she was a lifestyle blogger, and according to some of her posts, she was probably an influencer of some sort. There was something about her that drew him in from the first post he accidentally came across. That was four months ago.

 Since then, he’d practically stalked her page. The second he got a notification that she’d posted something, he was looking at it soon after. When he saw her stories, they always put a smile on his face. She was effortlessly adorable and sexy at the same time. It was a contradiction but one that you wore well. He didn’t know if he’d turned into one of those guys he’d seen countless times on Instagram. The ones who stalked a woman’s page and liked every single one of her posts and left vague comments under her pictures that could come off as creepy. He feared he had turned into that man.

 His interactions with her hadn’t gone to creepy lengths. He’d liked most of your posts, never commented because gossip was a real thing in his world, but liked other people’s comments under your posts. Sometimes he’d even tune in if you were on lives, and every time he watched, he was always filled with an urge to know you—really. He wondered if you’d even noticed he’d liked your pictures or if you’d gone to his page from curiosity to get lost in his content. One thing was sure; you’d never liked any of his posts. He’d noticed.

 “Get a fucking grip, man.”

 To help him on his way, he dropped his phone in the sand and ran to the waves hoping the water would do the trick. The coldness of the water shocked him, but it was a welcomed shock. Swimming further out to sea, he fought against the tide. Though he was exhausted, and his limbs were damn near numb, he pushed himself for just a little longer.  

 Ten minutes later, he dropped back onto the sand by his belongings while trying to catch his breath. That swim had his adrenaline surging competing with his exhaustion. Grabbing his phone, he went back to his drafts. Rather than posting one of them, he took a few shots of himself as he was dripping wet and all. Deciding on a relaxed-looking one, he prepped it to post. Before he did, though, he added a caption.

With it posted, he hopped to it. After a quick shower, he was off to tackle the day. On the agenda were three meetings for some brands that wanted him to work with them. The first up was a local Spanish sunglass brand, Vosotros. Throughout the meeting, he could tell that the campaign that they wanted to do was centered around bodies. Since the brand translated to the word “you,” their pitch was why not focus on everyone’s best selling feature—their body. It was a bit shallow for him, but the product was nice, and the pay was equally as appealing.

 After signing the contract, he moved to the second meeting. This one was for a couture men’s wear brand, Alma. This one he was familiar with. He’d worn many of their suits. They were comfortable but stylish and made from the best fabrics. He always felt like a million bucks when he wore them. This one was a no-brainer for him, and the compensation was the icing on the cake.

 Right before the third meeting began, he found he was running a little bit empty. The last time he’d had a meal was the night before. Before the meeting started, he pulled out his phone with the intent to figure out what was nearby so he could refuel once the meeting was finished. Once he saw the notifications, he opened up Instagram just to glance at them, but after scrolling through the eight thousand, among them, he found her name. Thinking he’d seen things, he scrolled all the way back to the top to refresh it, then scrolled back down, and sure enough, there it was.

 She’d liked six of his posts back to back. He couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across his face. It was so broad that anyone would have thought he’d never gotten a like in his life. He spent the next few minutes going through which posts she’d liked. Each one made him smile wider and wider. By the time the prospective employers walked in, he was refueled enough to carry him through the rest of the day.

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

-Y/N-

You’d finally bit the bullet. After four months of seeing the notifications on every one of your posts that he’d liked it or liked a comment under; it was about time. Right? The truth was you noticed each of them. The first time you got the notification, you almost fell out of your seat. You knew who he was because you’d seen one or two things that he’d been in and always thought he was hot, but of course, it was in passing. After the second notification of his like, you rushed to his page to go through each of his posts and found yourself salivating over every picture.

 After about half an hour, you got snapped back to your senses. The odds of it being him were slim to none. While you knew many celebrities liked to troll social media for their next piece of ass or entertainment, you never got that vibe from him. You deduced it must have been either a fan page or catfish at its best. So what did you do? Ignored it.

 You ignored every notification and did your best to shrug off the basal instinct that had your belly fluttering. In total, you had nearly two hundred posts, and he’d liked each and every one of them. It was a lot of ignoring. Today though, something came over you, and that something had you going to his page to see his new post. You couldn’t do anything else but stare. The truth was your finger slipped to tap the heart, and once you did, you tapped it again to unlike, but you knew once a like went through, you couldn’t take it back. Your only option was to deal with it. You dealt with it by liking five more of his pictures. Go big or go home, right.

 After ten minutes, you were still lamenting over if you should have or shouldn’t have. The internal conflict in you was high, especially when you began to kick yourself for overthinking it. There was no way it was really him. It was impossible. With that in mind, you calmed yourself enough to meet up with your friends. After pressing mute on your notifications, you proceeded to get yourself ready. It had been a good week since you and your friends had gotten the opportunity to hang out due to your busy schedules.

 When you were more than halfway there, your excitement began bubbling. When the four of you got together, it was always a good time. As soon as the Lyft dropped you off at the restaurant, a new construction that all four of you were dying to try, you were more than ready to eat, drink, and laugh. You stood outside for a few moments to admire the chosen exterior décor. It was an intricate mix of modern and seaside charm. It definitely was something different for the neighborhood.

 Walking inside past a line of about twelve or so people, you marveled at the entrance of the restaurant. Whoever designed it truly did a fabulous job. It was featured in the papers as one of the best new restaurants to try out in the downtown area. The way they’d incorporated indoor plants seriously captivated your attention.

“Welcome to Creator, my name is Kenji,” began the host who towered over you by like eight inches and bore green-hazel eyes. He was cute. “Do you have a reservation?” His smile was wide, and it showed off that his two front teeth were bigger than all the others. He made it work, though.

 “Yes. I believe my party is already here. I’m not sure who it’s under, though.”

 Kenji scanned the list of names on the iPad before her. As he did that, you scrolled through your texts to find the details that Zoë sent you. After a few short moments, he glanced back at you. After you found the reservation name, you rolled your eyes. Your friends thought they were funny.

 “Found it?”

 “Yes, and I apologize in advance,” you began. Kenji, the host, wrinkled his brow, not getting it. He would, though.

 Clearing your throat, held your head high, then spoke. “Punani Dasani.”

 Kenji’s eyes widened, then he pinched his lips tightly before he nodded and tapped a few keys on the iPad.

 “Wow. Eh-em. Yep, they’re here.”

 Nodding, you dropped your phone back into your clutch. When you looked back up, you caught Kenji’s eyes glued to your cleavage. When his eyes met yours, the embarrassment in them was obvious. Dipping his head, he signaled for you to follow him.

 The two of you walked through the restaurant under low hung plants, vines, and flowers. It was like walking through the garden of Adam and Eve. That must be what the owner had in mind when naming it Creation. It was clever, you thought. Just then, Kenji approached the table with your three friends. Once they saw you, they made a loud “Skeee” sound bringing the attention to those nearby. You couldn’t take them anywhere.

 “You guys think you’re funny with the reservation name?”

 They all laughed at you as you dipped down and greeted each of them with cheek kisses.

 “How did he look at you? From the way he keeps looking back, I can bet he wanted to sample that punani Dasani,” Tati joked to each of their delight.

 They were a trip, always had been. You, Tati, Monaè, and Zoë had been friends since high school and somehow managed to remain tight even though you each went your separate ways to different colleges. You each had spent two years apart until you came back together to finish your final two years of university together.

 “Don’t be mad. He wasn’t that cute anyway,” Monaè said, opening the menu before her.

 Cold-hearted, you thought as you did the same. Dinner progressed with laughs and stories of your days and recent happenings in your lives. As you ate, you decided to forget everything else and just enjoy yourself. You were in desperate need of a girl’s night, so you vowed to enjoy it fully.

 The food was delicious. Somehow they’d managed to make it taste healthy but also savory and completely indulgent. You felt as if every bite you took added thirty pounds, but you knew it wasn’t possible. The flavors all melded together so well that you wanted to send a message to the chef, letting them know they’d done well.

After a deeply fulfilling meal, the four of you piled into a Lyft and made it to your favorite club, Surge.  The music in the club was so loud that you could feel it bouncing inside of you. After getting your first round of drinks, the dancing began, and when the four of you got together with drinks and music, it was always an event.  You jumped into the middle of your circle and busted out your wine. Tati grabbed your phone from your hands and began recording you. Ignoring the camera and the gathering crowd, you allowed the alcohol to do its job and take you away.

 When you heard your friends cheering you on, you decided to really bust out your moves. Dropping to the floor, you did your best twerk. Holding your drink in the air, you began to wine your hips as you stood. It was one of your favorite moves. When you turned around, you saw Tati up close and personal. Slapping your hand in front of the lens, you giggled as you took your phone back to end the recording.

 “Jesus girl, those hips definitely don’t lie,” Monaè teased, making all your friends laugh.

 From behind, you felt someone approach you and place their hand on your waist. Turning, you gave him the rays of death with your stare telling him to back off. As quickly as he’d had the audacity to put his hand on you, he took it off just as quickly and backed away.

 “And don’t come back,” Zoë shouted.

 By the time you made it back home, it was three in the morning, and your feet hurt almost as much as your ass did. After leaving the club, the four of you had an impromptu photo shoot that lasted almost forty-five minutes and ended with you on your ass at the bottom of the pile once you’d tried some ridiculous cheerleading pose trying to relive your high school days. Big mistake.

 After a quick shower that had you almost falling asleep a few times, you dove into your bed, ready for some well-deserved rest. Just as you’d gotten comfortable, your phone’s alarm went off. Groaning, you reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing your bag to rifle through it. With your phone in hand, you blearily stared at the harsh light making your eyes feel as if they hadn’t closed in days rather than hours. You went to your alarm to turn it off, deciding that your routine dawn photo expedition would have to be rescheduled. You were too exhausted.

 Just as you were going to toss it away, you saw the notification of messages on Instagram. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you slid it down to get a preview. Through the blur in your eyes, you saw an icon that looked familiar. Tapping it, you nearly swallowed your tongue when you saw Lewis Tan’s image. Bolting upright, you coughed and slid to brace your back on your headboard.

 “What the--!”

The minute you saw it, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He’d send you a message. Chewing your bottom lip, you studied the time he’d sent it—over four hours ago. You then realized he’d see that you saw it, and you debated in your head if you should reply.

 “Jesus, get it together. Just say something simple,” you coached.

It was weak, but it was the best you had. You wondered if he would think it was weak too. As you obsessed about that, you also realized just how late it was. You’d responded to a DM at booty call hours. Rolling your eyes, you slouched back on your headboard. Your eyelids were heavy, and they drooped, trying to tell you something. Once they closed, your phone chimed that elaborate tone for your notifications.

Why had you responded? It was clear this was some fan page who either was using his image to catfish or gain followers. You never responded to questionable DMs, and this was as questionable as they got.

Even though you were still fighting your sleep, part of you was intrigued.

Flipping your smart TV on, and you turned to the Netflix app and found something for background noise.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought for a few moments. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that had you thinking this deeply or if it was something else.

You snorted and shook your head. “He’s really going down with the ship, huh.”

This was always the reaction when anyone found out your name. They were always shocked and speechless. Usually, you got a few corny jokes or mentions about your favorite planet must be Jupiter or bring up some astronomy fact that was always wrong. It was annoying. You braced yourself for some equally corny mention from him.

The corny mention never came.

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but cheese from his compliment. You hadn’t expected it. Though you tried to stop smiling, you couldn’t. There was something about his words. It wasn’t like you’d never heard sweet words before. You had. This shouldn’t have been any different.

The exhaustion began to take a more significant hold, and you slid lower, tucking your comforter underneath your chin.

Filming? What the heck was he talking about, you wondered. He was really taking this shit a little too far.

You bolted upright again. Was he seriously going to take this that far?

He was insane, absolutely mental. You were so damn ready to end this. One thing you hated was dishonesty. You especially hated being toyed with.

There was no way that he could prove it. What was he going to do?

He thought you were an idiot. He must have. Your anger was rising.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone beside you. You knew the chances of him passing this test were slim to none. You couldn’t believe that you’d given up the last thirty minutes of sleep for this. Groaning, you dropped back down, determined to drift away to sleep. Almost two minutes passed before you heard your chime again. Fighting the urge, you turned to your side, trying your best to ignore the fact that you knew he’d sent something.

After two minutes of curiosity killing you, you flung your hand back, grabbed your phone while flipping onto your back. You held your phone above your face, opened the app, and there he was.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes drank in every inch and rippling ab. Jesus, you thought. As you were bringing your phone closer, you didn’t register that a video call was coming in. without even realizing it, you answered, and the same image you’d been looking at moments ago was now live. The only difference was the frame wasn’t as low to show his incredible abs. It cut right at his chest, giving you a peek at his dark, dusty rose nipples. You were utterly frozen. He smiled and raked his hand through his hair before he bit onto his bottom lip. It was Lewis fucking Tan.

 “Enough proof for you?” He smiled, and that was when your phone slipped and fell right in your face.

 “Fuck, owww!”

 The pain was so strong you were tearing up. Rolling to the side, you rubbed your face, then searched for your phone. When you got to it, the video call had ended, showing you your home screen.

 You began to freak out. “Oh my god, oh my god! What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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