#all the wrinkles go brrr

[hexxxcapades]

bell's hells portraits!

[halfbit]

◤ see you in the stars

written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

theme: an old friend

― LAUNCH DAY ― "Gotta nice view up there?" A person— Dal, waved at the man sitting atop the concrete roof. “Yup, cloud-watching. It’s better without your head blocking it." He quipped, eyes shining. Dal didn’t bite. "Getting it out of your system?" Ray smiled, "Might as well." “Why do you have to be so high up, man?” He laughed, and extended his hand, “Need help, legs?” “No way, I’m not trusting with you with that again.” They huffed and crossed their arms. “Oh come on, that was one time.” “One time, in front of the entire middle school. Jerk.” “Harsh.” “Good.” They grinned together for a moment, and then the red-haired Ray looked back to the clouds. Dal stepped back to take a running start. "Did you figure out what to do with Daisy?" Ray asked, not turning his head away from the glacier-streaked sky. Dal grunted as they pulled themselves up over the ledge, "Yeah." Their lungs crunched through the word, finally rolling onto their back to stare at the sky beside Ray. "We found someone who was happy to take her in." Silence passed, a moment of quiet between them and the world. It was Ray who spoke next, "I'm sorry, Dal." They gave a rueful smile, "It's alright, she's too old for a trip like this anyway. So I know I shouldn't be too sad." "It still sucks." "Yeah— it does." Dal sat up, wind mussing their dark hair, and Ray quickly shadowed them, but neither would meet each other's eyes. They sat, with only the rising moonlight and cooling night breeze, existing alongside one another as time ticked forward. "How long will your stasis be?" Dal finally asked, "They've got me booked for 30 years." They added as they knotted their fingers together, hesitant. This time, the lack of an answer was a knife in their spine, dragging out the dread and embedding it in their bones. "What is it? 50?" They retreated within themselves, feeling the world dimming just a little, and their voice scratched when they spoke again, "Don't make that face, please." His red hair had lost its color in the night, and his face was cast in shadow, its usual wry joy wrinkled by a weak smile and trembling lips. “Ray— how long?” “They put me on the new colony ship.” There was no excitement in this, “The newer planets… they’re all near the edge of the 71st sector.” “Seventy… That’s going to be— hey, you’re joking right?” “I wish.” Ray grinned, it didn’t feel real. “What’s- what’s your exact stasis time?” Their heart twisted. “The conservative estimate they gave me was 112 years.” In this suffocatingly silent night, the quiet was broken, by weeping.

“How am I supposed to say goodbye to you now?” “I don’t know.” "..." “I’ll miss you.”

eeeee man i really cut it close with the time, but i kinda had technical difficulties so i won't beat myuself up for that too much. anyway. space death go brrr

[anothermouse]

.

Lmao I know it’s only two but!!! I wanted to post SOME teens before the day ends djjdjdjd

[outlustings]

hi also i know im double requesting but 🥺 maybe some more transmasc eddie with afab reader???? literally rock hard from that last one -🦊 anon

(very simple premise. transmasc eddie fucks your face and calls you a whore because..... it's eddie. that's about it.

haha skene's gland goes brrr.

yummy.)

×

You gripped the rough fabric of Eddie's trousers, holding his thighs as you kneeled between his legs, the cold floorboards scratching against the tender skin on your knees.

He stood over you, other hand stroking your hair while the other one was tense, balled into a fist, resting beside his hip. You looked up at him from underneath his heaving chest, his toned abs quivering as you lapped at his sex with adoring eyes as you watched him bite his lip to stifle the little moans that threatened to spill from his lips.

Submitting to him like this - it was absolutely filthy and you couldn't help but feel little hot stings of arousal jolt through your belly as you delved your tongue deeper into his folds, flicking it over his hot, pulsing flesh. You felt his throb against your tongue as he dug his fingers into your scalp, desperately bucking into your face.

"Yes-s-s," Eddie hissed, throwing his head back, "That's it, my dear. Suck it. Like you're meant to - god damn..."

You saw little wisps of black hair stick to his flushed forehead as he craned his thick neck to watch you bob your head up and down against him. You felt hot, slick fluid against your lips and you splayed your hands over the bulging muscle of his thighs, rubbing him, egging him on. Give it to me.

His hips slammed against your face and you let out a pitiful little squeak as you felt his large hands grip your hair, his long fingers digging into your scalp as he ground his hips against you, his clear, slick fluids running down your chin as he bucked against you.

"There you go, darling, that's it," Eddie grunted, burying your face into the sleek black hair between his legs, squishing your nose against his pubic mound as he fucked your face. You moaned against him, tongue lapping at his lips as you looked up at him.

His face was flushed, a bright pink hue settled across the bridge of his straight nose, his thick eyebrows furrowed as little wrinkles formed and smoothed themselves out as his face twisted into different experssions of pleasure. He looked so handsome like this, fucking your face, his own visage showing his need, his desperation as his lips parted and he huffed out breathy, low grunts.

He gathered most of your hair into his palms and adjusted his feet on the floor, spreading them wider as he gripped your scalp and started moving your head against himself - up and down, up and down, just at that angle, right there, that's so good.

You sucked on him, your eyes blinking dumbly at him as he ground against you, the soft flesh of your nose bending along with the movements of his hips.

Eddie dug his fingers deeper into your scalp.

"Yes," he breathed out, "Take it all, you slut."

You hummed, your lips wrapped around his length and he let out a shaky moan, his thighs trembling on both sides of your face as you suckled on his swollen flesh.

You slid the pads of your fingers against the tender flesh of his perineum, feeling him quiver and clench as you stroked the sensitive skin, the coarse hair tickling your fingers. He groaned and fisted your hair, yanking it roughly so that your forehead hit the wisps of hair below his navel.

"You minx. You filthy little whore," he cooed, cocking his head as you looked up at him wickedly. His skin was so hot, his toned abdomen perspiring against your forehead as you flicked your tongue on him, grinning against his wetness as you wagged your jaw, slurping on him obscenely while your finger traced his quivering flesh, nearing his asshole. Your thumb pressed against his entrance, dipping in as you felt him clamp around you.

Eddie let out a throaty whine. You could almost see the exact moment he lost control, the glint in his eyes turning sharp as he gripped your head and shoved his hips against you, breathing wildly.

You just had to hold on. Let him fuck your face.

His forceful thrusts against your mouth made you squeal against him and you felt him twitch inside your mouth as you latched onto his swollen junk. You swirled your tongue around the tip, sucking it greedily while looking up with doe-like eyes as he watched you take him.

Your nose squished against him as he fucked you, his laboured breathing echoing inside you as you clung onto his thighs and closed your eyes, feeling your jaw clicking as he forced your mouth wider on him, engulfing his heat inside your mouth.

He gasped.

"Oh, darling - right there -..." he screwed his eyes shut as you flicked and laved your tongue over him, feeling him tremble against you.

He let out a strangled cry and you felt thick warmth splash on your bottom lip and you giggled against him as he shuddered, doubling over and moaned, bucking his hips into your mouth as you licked him through an intense, sudden orgasm. You slurped him down obscenely, feeling how the fluid rolled down your neck in fat droplets as he trembled against you, twitched and writhed as you kept on sucking.

"Oh - god, fu-uck," he groaned and exhaled forcefully as he stilled against you, his broad chest heaving as he hunched over you, trying to recover. You could hear him breathe heavily on top of you and you chuckled, pulling away from him with a wet, lewd sound as strings of his cum stuck to the bottom half of your face, connecting you to his groin with glimmering, spidery webs.

He tasted so sweet. Sickly sweet, like musky syrup, bitter like the most finely matured wine. The taste made your knees weak. It was so uniquely him. You wanted more.

He looked down at you, cradling your chin in is hand as he straightened his back. You could see his blush deepen as you wiped the fluid into your mouth, swallowing him down with a thick gulp, giving him a sly grin.

"My good little darling, taking me so well - fuck," Eddie's hips shuddered against your face as he pulled further away to take a good look at your panting, flushed face, his sticky arousal running down your swollen lips as you wiped your face with the back of your hand, "Such a good little fuckslut," he purred, hooking one finger underneath your chin, stroking your jaw affectionately with his thumb as his other hand patted you on the head.

You leaned into his touch, sighing slightly as you shifted on your knees, clinging onto his trembling, buff thigh as you closed your eyes and breathed in his musk as he muttered little praises to you, petting your hair in soothing little strokes.

You wanted more.

[nxrthmizu]

deserving. — kuroo tetsurou

Never, in all the time you have known him, has Kuroo Tetsurou ever looked so murderous. There's a cold fire in his golden irises, not threatening but promising to burn down everything in sight, leaving nothing unscathed. The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled to the elbow, and right by the fold you spot a twitching vein, a symbol of his thinly-veiled fury.

"What makes you think," he speaks, soft and low, tone completely even, giving absolutely nothing away. "That you are deserving?"

The man— no, the boy opposite him trembles in pure, undiluted fear, wanting desperately to look away from the golden gaze of a circling predator but finding that he can't. Over twenty years sets them apart, as implied by the seeping white streaks in Kuroo's hair and the deepening wrinkles in his face. It doesn't make him look senile or fragile, however— if anything, it makes him more intimidating with the added edge of experience and wisdom.

"I asked you a question." Kuroo says, eyes piercing into the very soul of the trembling boy, searching for deception with the skill of a seasoned detective.

"S-Sir, I-I..." the boy stutters, flooded with search lights from helicopters above, caught red-handed with the evidence right in his hands.

A sneer drops from Kuroo's lips as he leans back, clearly unimpressed. His eyes flit across the boy's hunched back, his fidgeting hands, his shifty eyes, the bead of sweat trickling down his neck— "What makes you think that you, of all people, are worthy of—"

"Alright, alright, that's enough, Tetsu." you cut in, watching relief rush onto the pale face of the boy seated across your husband on your dining table. "Would you like a glass of water, dear?"

"Y-Yes please, ma'am." the boy nods feverishly. Even while looking at you, he can feel the snarl of the powerful feline across him, muscles rippling with anticipation of an opening. Now that he's been broken out of Tetsurou's glare, he's adamant on avoiding eye contact with the man like his life depends on it— which isn't going to be an easy feat, seeing as they're seated directly across each other.

You offer him a sympathetic smile, sliding a glass across the table while your other hand slips onto your husband's shoulder, doing your very best to ease the springy tension in his shoulders before he vaults over the dinner table in an attempt to strangle the young boy.

"Help me with the dishes, won't you, Tetsu?" you coo softly, pressing a gentle kiss at the bristly undercut he sports.

Wordlessly, Tetsurou gets up and follows you into the kitchen, but not without shooting a definite glare at the boy. His footsteps are softened by the fluffy, pastel blue slippers he wears as he pads after you into the wooden floor of your beloved kitchen, his stone mask breaking for a hint of a smile as he notices his favorite dishes for the night.

By the time you return to the dining area, your daughter has slipped into her seat, glancing nervously between the boy beside her and your husband like it's the last, determining set of the Inter-high championships.

"Shall we eat?" you break the silence with a gentle smile, thigh pressed up against your husband's in an effort to keep him 'leashed'.

It isn't even a minute before Tetsurou speaks. "So," your husband clears his throat, speaking lowly and calmly as he swallows a bite of Thai-style basil chicken. "What do you do for a living?"

"I-I'm a marketing major, sir." the boy says, meeting Kuroo's glance, as not doing so could be marked disrespectful. "I'm currently working at XXX company, d-doing telesales."

A low hum rumbles from Tetsurou's throat. "What are your long-term goals in your current company?"

"I-I've been working there for two years, sir. I— um— I'm... I'm aiming to get promoted to manager, sir."

"What are your long-term goals concerning my daughter, then?"

At this, the young man risks a glance at your daughter, who shoots him a reassuring smile. Feeling slightly more confident, he sits straighter, looking into Tetsurou's eyes with a mixture of fear and determination. "I don't intend to marry her until I can afford the house she wants, sir. If that takes five years, then so be it. Your daughter doesn't deserve anything below the best, sir, and I know I can't say that I'm the best guy out there for her— but if she'll have me, I'll do everything I can until I'm good enough, sir."

Your husband pauses.

The young man looks breathless.

"Hmm. I see. What do you call a fish made from two sodium atoms?"

"I— what?"

"Dad!" your daughter whines, familiar with the joke that your husband has cracked all too many times. Beside her, the young man looks as if he was just presented an astrophysics question.

"Two-Na." Tetsurou grins, a stark change from the serious, interrogative man he was two seconds ago.

The man blinks.

"Laugh." you suggest, placing a spoonful of meat on his plate.

"Haha...?"

brrr dad!Kuroo haha

haikyuu!! taglist: @ryuiki @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester

[soupbabe]

hi hello ! may i request 4taro fluff? cuddles maybe? also am i the only one who feels like jotaro would be the small spoon just because he 'brocken 😱😭😨💔🖤🥀' ??((the 'brocken' part is a joke))

Pampered (4taro x Reader)

Y/N gives Jotaro a well deserved self care day

Hmm small spoon Jotaro makes my brain go brrr. Also sorry that this is short!

You've noticed how stressed out Jotaro was for a while. What started as a simple task to find another Joestar descendant, turned into a mystery for how such a small town is overrun with stand users, then turned into a (not so) fun "we have to catch a killer" plot. Now because of this, Jotaro has been taking some time away from you, his fiancé/fianceé. You took some days by yourself to think of a way to help him out, but also get some more time with him as well. It wasn't until you passed a skin care section at the store that you had an idea.

This might be the rarest sight in the world. Jotaro Kujo, a man who was a well known delinquent back in highschool days, a man who killed a 100 year old vampire with a straight face, is currently standing in your bathroom with a bright green face mask on paired with a light grey cat headband that's pushing his hair out of his face. You're currently trying so hard to hold in a laugh "You look amazing, Jotaro." Jotaro sighs and takes one more look in the mirror. His signature white hat and matching coat was neatly put away, opting for a black tank top and grey sweatpants instead. "What's this junk supposed to do anyway?" "It's a facemask Jotaro, not 'junk.' And the one you have on is supposed to be anti-aging. I've noticed that you've been stressed out lately and I heard that kind of thing can cause wrinkles." The Kujo rolled his eyes at you. "...You're lucky that I love you."

You simply smiled. "I love you too, hun. Now C'mon, we have to wait 15 minutes for it to dry." You pulled your spouse out of the hotel bathroom and made him sit down on the couch while you started on tea in the kitchen.

Soon enough, you were able to head back over to Jotaro and sit next to him. You handed him his tea and he snuggled up next to you. You smiled and wrapped your arm around his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the headband. "Thank you for agreeing to this Jotaro. It makes me happy when I get to see you all relaxed like this." He closed his eyes and laid his head on your shoulder, being careful to not get the facemask on your shirt. "This is nice I guess." Your eyes lit up. "Does this mean that we can do face mask nights more often?" He took a sip of his tea, "Maybe."

He snuggled into your side more and kissed your cheek, clearly tired from the day he's had. Yeah, you're not supposed to sleep in a face mask, but who are you to disrupt such a cute sight.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

gods and the mortals they worship

A/N: honestly this idea started out due to the fact that scott and jack are gonna be housemates, and a friend and i were like "haha what if c!scott moved into Innit Hotel with jack" which turned into "haha what if c!scott was the god of mcc but he just seemed like a Dude to everyone else" which made my brain go brrr and think "haha what if god!scott and goddess!kristin met for tea" and then this fic happened. it got much angstier than i intended it to whoops

Warnings: implied/referenced temporary character death, grief/mourning, hugs, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: Kristin, the goddess of death. Scott, the god of champions. Two deities that at first glance, have nothing to do with the other. But all the same, the two deities are close friends, meeting for tea and talking about the mortals they adore. However, some conversations painfully remind them of the mortality of their loved ones.

-

Kristin rather enjoyed it when a fellow deity joined her for tea. Not many would, XD was a little wary of her, being her opposite in a sense. And his sister Drista visited her often enough, but the young goddess was a bit on the rambunctious side, which was expected for the trickster. But the deity's whose visits pleased her the most were Scott's. The god of champions was always lovely to chat with, and she looked forward to each event he organized- always rooting for her husband's team, of course.

They met for tea weekly, but this visit... something seemed off about Scott. He seemed cheery enough, talking about how he had recently moved into the Innit Hotel with Jack and the other servers he was drifting between. But there was a melancholy expression on his face for a brief moment as he traced the flower pattern on his teacup, and a lost, faraway expression would come over his face from time to time. These were expressions Kristin recognized all too well- grief. She saw it in the faces of many mortals when she called their loved ones to her side- and it was unnerving to say the least to see such an expression on a god's face.

"Who are you mourning?" she asked, startling Scott slightly. The god's ever color-shifting eyes refused to meet her.

"The loss of my mcc team, of course," Scott countered with a half-hearted smirk. Kristin gave him an expression of disbelief, and the smirk melted away to something more downcast as he fiddled with something on a chain around his neck. A ring.

"Oh Scott," she said softly.

"Tried the married life thing. It was nice, for a bit. But it was a modified hardcore world, and it didn't end well. For him... or for me," Scott said, hand drifting to his throat with a grimace. Kristin set down her tea, placing a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott had a unique position as a god- he was one of the few who felt the sting of death. As he willingly lived among mortals most of the time, his godly power had to be diminished to do so. Which meant he could die- but it would never truly stick for him. Granted, death didn't really stick for most of the crowd he stuck around with. They would be reborn into other servers, maybe retaining impressions of the ones before- but Scott was the only one who truly remembered each server he had been on.

"I'm so sorry. Is he..." Kristin trailed off, unsure if she wanted to know if Scott's husband had been reborn into a different server.

"He's on another server with me now. Empires SMP. Calls himself the Codfather these days. I keep hoping he'll remember... but I don't know if I want him to," Scott said, eyes watery.

"Why not?" Kristin asked. If she was in a similar situation with Phil, she absolutely would want him to remember her.

"Because what kind of god can't even keep his husband alive?! I couldn't protect him before, who says I could do it now. Besides with my luck, by the time he'd remember me, I'd only lose him again. Why waste the effort on more heartbreak," Scott said, something vengeful in his tone. The aura around him tinged red, and Kristin drew her hand back with a jolt. Scott took notice of his surroundings, and with a sheepish smile his aura shifted to something more neutral and warm.

"That's why you're hiding in the Dream SMP with Jack, isn't it? You don't want to risk him remembering," Kristin asked softly. Scott let out a sigh.

"I'm not... hiding, exactly. Just lying low, somewhere where I don't have to pretend I'm not a god," Scott explained with a faraway glance.

“What if you were to tell this... Codfather," Kristin suggested. Scott wrinkled his nose in disgust in the name.

"Jimmy. His name is Jimmy," Scott corrected, sounding reverent as he murmured his name the second time. It was almost silly, a god worshipping the ground a mortal walked on- not that Kristin was one to talk. But then again, Phil wasn't exactly mortal.

"Then why don't you tell Jimmy the truth about who you are," Kristin prodded. Few knew the truth about Scott's godly status- Phil, most notably, and Wilbur. And now, she supposed, all who were on the Dream SMP. Otherwise, most knew Scott as someone who had a connection to the god of champions, and carried out his invitations to the games- not that Scott himself was the god in question.

"I... I don't know. Maybe it's safer for him if he never knows," Scott said with a sigh. Kristin squinted at him suspiciously.

"Scott, I've known you for centuries. Tell me the real reason you don't want to tell him," she said pointedly. Scott laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. With a deep breath, his expression settled into something more solemn.

"I don't want things to be different between us. I liked the way it was, on that modified hardcore world. We had a flower valley, with a pond and overgrowth and- and his silly insistence on wanting to protect me, like I was the fragile one, not him. I even experienced a brief afterlife with him, after we had lost all our lives on that world. And that... that was beautiful. But then things reset, and he was reincarnated. And how could I not follow him?" Scott said wistfully. His eyes shone with bittersweet tears, a fond smile on his face.

"You truly have the heart of a mortal, my friend," Kristin said with a soft smile. Scott chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well I certainly can't let anyone know that, think of my reputation," he joked. Kristin laughed.

"Oh please, we all know how much you cherish your champions," she teased.

"Don't tell a soul," Scott said in a mock-serious tone.

"Oh please, the only souls I know are dead ones," Kristin replied with a chuckle. Scott laughed too, but it fell short as his eyes landed on the flowers that decorated the teacups.

"I think the worst part is that he sees me as an enemy. I guess rightfully so, I pushed him away because I was afraid of letting him back in. I don't think I'll be able to look him in the eyes if we end up on the opposite sides of a battle," Scott said, voice fragile as the delicate teacups on the table before them.

"Maybe there's still time to make amends. You could extend some token of peace towards him?" Kristin suggested gently.

"Maybe. I just..." Scott trailed off.

"You just want to mope around in a world of constant hardship and destruction?" Kristin teased lightly, smirking. Scott laughed.

"I guess the Dream SMP isn't the greatest place to hide out," he said, still chuckling. Kristin was relieved to see her friend back to his more genuine smiley self, multicolored eyes glinting with amusement.

"Maybe not. Are Phil and Wilbur staying out of trouble?" Kristin asked, picking her tea back up to sip at. Scott laughed again.

"Staying out of trouble is asking a lot for your family. But I think Phil has forced Wilbur to make friends with Ranboo," he replied, picking up his tea as well.

"Oh? How did that go?" Kristin asked.

"Not sure, honestly. I think they opened a burger place? I've mostly been keeping to myself in the Innit Hotel," Scott said with a shrug.

"I'm sure Tommy loves that," Kristin said dryly.

"Oh yes, cussed me out until I threatened to not let him on mcc anymore. He changed his tune pretty quickly," Scott laughed.

"Doesn't Jack actually own the hotel now?" Kristin asked.

"Yes, but Tommy doesn't seem to know that," Scott answered with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm sure he'll get over it. Probably still a little jumbled from being brought back," Kristin muttered, unable to help looking miffed at that. She wasn't exactly fond of people being torn from her domain, especially by an overzealous mortal and the god who he eerily resembled. Although she couldn't exactly blame XD, the book had called him and he was forced to answer.

“Maybe life and death shouldn’t be toyed with anymore,” Scott said softly, after a few beats of silence. Kristin thought of Scott’s struggles with death and rebirth, then thought of her own family. Her husband who survived and lived, never dying- and her son, who fought and died, but ended up living.

“You wouldn’t see me complaining,” Kristin replied, voice coming out more melancholy than she meant it to. Scott looked to her with brows creased in sympathy.

“What a pair we make,” he said with a humorless laugh. Kristin laughed too, just as bleak as Scott’s own laugh.

“The goddess of death whose loved ones live, and the god of champions whose loved ones lose,” she said, voice forlorn. Scott set down his tea, dropping his gaze from Kristin’s.

“I do tend to be drawn towards the lost ones, don’t I?” he said with a weak smile.

“Nothing wrong with rooting for the underdog,” Kristin pointed out with a shrug. Scott looked at the flowers on the teacups, and his smile was a bit brighter this time around, less sad and bittersweet.

“I guess not. Maybe you’re right, maybe there is time to smooth things out with Jimmy,” Scott said, looking back up at Kristin.

“Good! Being mopey doesn’t suit you. And telling him the truth couldn’t hurt either,” Kristin insisted brightly. Scott rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Okay Mumza, no need to get on my case. I said I’d try and smooth things over, not reveal that I’m an all-powerful god that was married to him once because I like playing mortal,” he replied, dragging out her nickname with a teasing grin. Kristin grinned back.

“I guess your situation is a little different than when I told Phil I was a goddess,” she said semi-sheepishly.

“Phil was also hopelessly head-over-heels for you when you told him. Jimmy is decidedly not,” Scott pointed out with a laugh.

“Oh Jimmy will come around eventually. If he knows what’s good for him,” Kristin said, sipping at her tea. Scott blinked at her in confusion.

“Are you threatening my ex-husband?” he asked, tone so adorably baffled that Kristin couldn’t help but laugh.

“All I meant was that he doesn’t know what he’s missing. Any man would be lucky to have captured your attention," she clarified with a teasing grin. Scott flushed in embarrassment, the aura around him tinging pink.

“You’re acting like an embarrassing mum trying to convince her son to get out there and start dating,” Scott huffed, trying to play off his flusteredness.

“You’re the one who called me ‘Mumza,’” Kristin pointed out, still grinning.

“This is rude, I’m being attacked and you’re twisting my words against me now-” Scott cut off with a laugh, unable to keep up the mock-offended act as his aura shifted back to being a neutral warm color. Scott finally looked the most himself that he had been all day- aura full of warmth, a smile on his face, and color-shifting eyes sparkling.

“Oh, whatever will you do?” Kristin teased. Scott shook his head, picking up his tea and finishing it off with one last sip before standing from the table.

“I think I’m gonna leave, actually. It’s about time I head out anyway,” Scott said. Kristin looked at how low her own tea had gotten, and sighed before standing with a gentle smile.

“Well as always, it was wonderful to have you. I hope everything works out,” she said softly, holding out her arms. Scott hugged her without hesitation, and Kristin got the feeling he was silently thanking her for her advice through the hug.

“See you next week?” Scott asked after he pulled away.

“I look forward to it,” Kristin replied. Scott smiled, giving a two-fingered salute before disappearing in a burst of color. The lightshow faded, leaving Kristin in her rather gloomy domain. The loneliness after a fellow deity left was always the worst, and the heavy conversation from before didn’t help matters much. Scott and Kristin were very similar beings for two deities that ruled over extremely different things- both of their hearts were too big, too smitten with mortals. Scott could at least compete alongside mortals if he so chose, but Kristin was in a plane of existence that her loved ones could only reach through tragedy. Perhaps Scott had it worse- Kristin could at least distance herself from mortals, while Scott stubbornly refused to. But all the same, Kristin was hopeful that things would work out for the god of champions. And maybe, things would work out for her family as well.

-

MCYT Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[fruitcoops]

thinking about the team learning that remus moved into sirius’

God I missed the Lions groupchat. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

I

“Rookie!”

Leo paused halfway down the hall and turned, raising an eyebrow as Sirius jogged to catch up. They bumped forearms in greeting, then continued to walk. “What’s up?”

“Can I borrow you on Saturday for a couple hours? Just to move some boxes, nothing huge.”

Leo shrugged. “Sure. Do you want me to bring Finn’s car, too?”

“Nah, that’s alright. Transport is taken care of.” Sirius ran a hand through his hair, looking strangely nervous at the thought. Is he moving? Remodeling?

“Are you okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m good.” A softer look came over his face and Leo added Involves Remus to his mental checklist. “Thanks, Knutty. Nice saves today.”

“No problem, Cap.”

II

There was a knock on the doorjamb of Moody’s office and he frowned when Remus ducked inside. “You don’t have to knock, Lupin.”

“Sorry, I was distracted.” He waved a vague hand in the air and concern crept into the edge of Moody’s mind.

“You’re not quitting, are you?”

“What? No!” Remus looked positively scandalized at the thought. “Hell no, I was just going to let you know that I’ll be busy on Saturday. It’s moving day and I won’t be able to help unload the pallets.”

“Oh.” Did he tell me he was moving, earlier? “I’m glad you’re getting out of that hamster cage of yours. See you bright and early on Monday, kid.”

III

The phone rang twice before it connected. “Hello?”

“Hey, Loops!” Talker held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled his food out of the microwave. “Are you free on Saturday? The new X-Men is coming out and Noelle can’t make it.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Remus teased. “Talkie, I’m flattered.”

“Very Romeo and Juliet, I know,” Talker laughed. The plate was just hot enough to make him wrinkle his nose. “There are showings at ten, 12:30, and three, and then a late-night one at nine. Do any of those work?”

“I think—shit, wait, you said Saturday?” Something rustled on Remus’ end and he sighed. “Sorry, I’m busy moving that whole day.”

“Congrats, man! It’s about time!” Talker carefully set his food on the table and put the phone on speaker so he could eat without completely grossing Remus out. “Doesn’t Cap have to duck to get through the doorway to your place?”

“He’s got about an inch of space, yeah,” Remus snorted. “Is there a showing on Sunday that we could go to? Unless you’re going to ditch me for your girlfriend, in which case, rude.”

“We could make it a double-date,” Talker suggested around his pasta. “How about the ten am one, and then we can grab lunch?”

“Sounds good, Talkie. See you then!”

IV

“Did you guys know Loops is moving?” Finn asked from the living room armchair, splaying one leg over the armrest and tucking the other underneath himself.

In the kitchen, Logan frowned. “That’s…weird. I thought Cap was moving.”

“Yeah, he asked if I could help him with some boxes on Saturday,” Leo added as he walked out of their bedroom with a toothbrush in his mouth. “I figured he was just remodeling.”

Finn gasped, sudden and sharp, and almost fell off the armchair. “Holy fuck, are they moving in together?”

Leo choked on his toothpaste; Logan nearly dropped a plate. “Oh my god they are,” Leo whispered, then scrambled back into the bathroom to wash his mouth out.

Logan fumbled for his phone.

Message To: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE HELPING CAP AND/ OR LOOPS ON SATURDAY

Message From: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

Me?

Me

Me

I am

Loops ditched on our date :((

Logan frowned.

Message To: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

Talkie if you’re ditching my sister for Loops we’re going to have a problem

Also CAP LOOPS GET IN HERE

Message From: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

It’s Thursday that’s their date night

Pots why do you know that

It’s called being an attentive friend dumbass

Tremz what is happening????

Message To: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

We’re all idiots

They’re moving in together

That’s why they’re both busy

Message From: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

OH FUCK

YESSSSS

AHAHAHA FINALLY

FUCK YEAH LET’S GOOOOO

Are we ignoring the part where they tried to keep this a secret or

Oh my god can you all SHUT THE FUCK UP

Hey Loops!

Looooooooooops

LOOPS LOOPS LOOPS

Yes hello is there an emergency?? Did someone die??

“Yes, I died from the suspense and betrayal,” Finn groaned from the other room.

Message From: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

YOU’RE MOVING IN WITH CAP???

??? Yes???

And didn’t tell anybody???? Bitch

There were a few moments of silence in the groupchat. Logan glanced up and saw Finn and Leo standing near each other, both glued to their phones.

Message From: Hockey Brain Go Brrr

Okay so it seems we forgot to tell you guys

In my defense I thought we did

Oh my GOD Loops

Jesus Christ

How are you two so smart and so dumb

Surprise?

I mean congratulations but also fuck you guys for not telling us sooner

Yeah the housewarming party is going to be short a few fireworks

Jackson Nadeau if you bring fireworks to my house I’ll end you

Oh hey Cap

Oh captain my captain you absolute dumbass why didn’t you say anything???

1) Yes we are moving in together 2) Thank you Pots for remembering it’s date night 3) We’re leaving now and if anyone tries to call us you’re doing extra sets on Monday

That is such a captain thing to say you’re so lame

See you Saturday

Finn’s phone pinged softly. “Siri, where is the nearest fireworks shop?”

V

Remus groaned as Sirius pulled up to the house. The entire team was gathered in the front yard; someone had taped streamers to the front door.

“I’m going to kill them,” Sirius said.

“I’ll visit you in prison.”

“CONGRATULATIONS!” the guys cheered.

Sirius gritted his teeth and Remus fought back a blush as they began unloading boxes from the trunk of the car, desperately ignoring the confetti poppers and the whoops of their idiot friends. “Don’t make eye contact,” Remus muttered, making Sirius laugh under his breath. “They can smell your fear.”

They squeezed through the front door and set the boxes in the entryway—as soon as Sirius opened it again to get the rest of Remus’ things, six different people tumbled through, already carting his dishes, clothes, and a variety of other things.

“Fuck, Loops, what the hell is in here?” Nado grunted as he set it down and stretched his back.

“A super neat invention called ‘books’,” Remus sad drily around his grin. “Thanks for carrying it for me.”

“Is this all you brought?” Talker looked back at the car, then to the boxes.

“Pretty much. It’s not like I needed to move furniture or anything.”

Leo clapped his hands together, smiling bright. “Great! That means we can all go to lunch now and roast you in person for neglecting to tell us about this.”

Sirius threw his hands in the air. “It was an accident!”

“Yeah, and?” Logan linked their elbows and all but dragged him outside with Remus hot on their heels. “Come on, Captain, I haven’t made fun of you in a whole day!”

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track thirteen

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Sean died in January, and it was cold. That much Grayson remembered. The funeral was fuzzy apart from a few very vivid memories, including one of sitting outside on a bench, the wind cutting through his slacks and freezing his legs. His arms were so cold he couldn’t even feel the wind on them through the numbness, seeing that his suit jacket was wrapped around Cameron’s shoulders. He’d borrowed one of his dad’s ties - it was a tacky pattern but subtle in color. Sean had worn it to the twin’s 8th grade night for football when he’d walked them proudly across the field with the biggest smile on his face. He shivered. But it was still better than being inside, looking at the casket that had his dad but not his dad inside. 

That suit was gone. He hadn’t been able to look at it after that day, so he’d donated it, despite his mother’s qualms that he may need a nice suit again someday. 

That day was coming much quicker than he expected, and that’s how he found himself in the back of a department store sifting through racks of jackets. But there was one bright spot in the scenario, and she was looking through ties on a table to his left. 

Indy held one up with a soft smile, the most she’d been able to offer him in the last day.

“She liked blue.”

Grayson could only nod, the knot in his throat stealing his voice. He took the tie, running his thumb over the silky fabric. They were quiet as they went through and found him a few suit options to try on. Indy had to hold them up high so nothing dragged the ground as they headed to the fitting rooms. 

She sat in a hard plastic chair outside, crossing her legs and fighting her emotions. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. After all, there was no reference, no textbook on the expected emotions of preparing for a funeral of a 15 year old with your ex. If he even was an ex. They’d woken up that morning in bed together after all, with his warm breath on her back, arm around her, hand tucked under her rib cage like it used to be. 

And she felt warm. And safe. And guilty. 

How could she have a flicker of happiness in a world without Bekah? How could she be grateful, or glad that Grayson was just two doors down fiddling with suit buttons when her being gone was the reason he was there? 

It was a blessing, the hold he still seemed to have on her. Because as soon as he walked out her mind went blank for a moment, only able to process him, and his broad shoulders and strong arms that she could still see under his jacket. 

“This is the best of the three. What do you think?” 

It took her a minute to find her words. “Yeah, it looks nice. Very… funeraly.”

Grayson looked in the mirror. “Funeraly. Well, that’s the idea I guess. Works for me.”

He disappeared again, coming back out in his nice pants and crewneck. He looked good, but the look of worry in his eyes made Indy uneasy. She didn’t like when people worried about her. 

“Let’s go find you a dress.” 

She’d been dreading that part. She wasn’t much of a dress girl most the time, but she wanted to look her best for Bekah. She deserved that. So with a sigh she led Grayson across the store to the women’s section, looking for anything black she could find. 

He was patient, offering his hand out to hold any of the options she found to try.  She only found three that didn’t look like they were meant for a night out, and Grayson took the spot in the plastic chair while she tried them on. They all fit, but her favorite was the long sleeved number she’d found - tight enough to be flattering, and long enough to be modest and warm, with a long metal zipper that she couldn’t quite get all the way up on her back.

She reached and stretched as far as she could before she huffed in defeat, unsure of whether she should ask him for help. Was that weird? Or was she just making it weird. 

After another moment of contemplation, she stepped out in it, stomach fluttering against her will when she saw Grayson look up and catch his breath. 

“Can you…” She moved her hair out of the way, revealing her back. He stopped breathing for a second, chair clanging against the wall as he rushed to stand up.

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

He moved behind her quickly, finger delicate against her spine as he moved to the zipper. It sat right below her bra clasp, and he recognized it as the one with a bent hook, a casualty of the dryer that he’d accidentally put it in back in November. He realized he was taking too long and zipped it up quickly, patting it lightly at the top to let her know he was done. 

He met her eyes in the mirror, and realized she’d been watching him the whole time. 

“Do you think this will be warm enough?”

“We’ll probably be inside most the time, so it should be okay.”

She nodded at him, disappearing back into the dressing room and taking a few deep breaths. Nothing felt real for some reason, and it took all her effort to settle herself, keep herself in the moment she didn’t want to be in. She stripped out of the dress quickly and slid it back on the hanger. It wasn’t worth the argument when Grayson held his hand out for it when they headed towards the counter. With her inability to work shifts her bank account was grateful for his that seemed to always be overflowing. Surely a $50 dress wouldn’t break the bank, but she still thanked him when he swiped his card. 

They walked into the parking lot in silence, and she climbed into the truck when Grayson pulled the door open for her. He sat the bags in the backseat once he climbed in, starting it up and cranking the heat up. The air was still cold, cold enough for Indy to shove her hands under her thighs in a bid to keep them warm. Grayson frowned and grabbed his jacket from the back, passing it to her. 

“Thanks,” she said, laying it over her lap and smoothing out the wrinkles. She was rigid in her seat, especially when Gray reached his hand over to the back of hers so he could back out of the parking space. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath till both his hands were back on his side of the console.

She hated it. Hated feeling like he was watching, waiting for her to fall apart at any given moment. But she loved it too, because if he was there to look at her with pity it meant he was there. Her mind was exhausted with the constant battle of trying to put a word to her emotions, to guide them into whatever box they were supposed to be in. 

To Grayson, it just looked like she was numb. Her eyes were trained on the New Jersey roads every time he glanced over to her, either out the windshield or through the passenger window. He wanted to talk to her, wanted to know what she was feeling, wanted to grovel on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Instead, he held his tongue and continued down the road, 10 under the speed limit just to buy a few more extra minutes with her close enough to reach. He wasn’t sure what would happen when they got to the house. If she wanted to go upstairs, to avoid him until the funeral, he’d understand. He’d let her, even if it hurt. He deserved that. He’d sit at the bottom of the stairs and wait, and listen, and hope she didn’t need him but also hope she did. 

The two played their own games of tug-o-war, parallel to each other until they made it to the house. Ethan was on the porch with Gizmo’s cage in his hands, holding it up and talking to her as they walked in.

“See Giz? It’s too fucking cold out here.”

“Brrr,” Gizmo squawked. 

“Yeah, fuckin brrr. So you gotta stop screaming to come outside before Ma loses her mind.” 

“You sure you aren’t the one losing your mind?” Grayson asked with a smirk aimed towards his brother. 

“Outside!” Gizmo yelled and Ethan clenched his fists. 

“Did you all find outfits?” Ethan asked to distract himself, looking at Grayson’s empty hands. 

“Shit, yeah I left them in the truck though. I’ll grab em Dee, go get warm.” 

Indy nodded and walked inside slowly, taking her shoes off and sitting them neatly by the door. She walked to the living room, sitting down carefully on the couch with her eyes trained on the woods. Even the squirrels seemed to be grieving, moving slow through the grass at the tree line. She watched them anyways, envied their oblivion of all the tragedy of the world as Grayson hung up their clothes in the coat closet and watched her from the foyer. 

Her shoulders were slumped forward, and it pained him to see her literally curled in on herself in a way that he hadn’t seen before. He ran through a million different things he could say, but none of them seemed good enough. There were never words for times like these, and he knew that. Sometimes, it was better to just sit in silence. So he gave it to her for a few minutes longer, disappearing to the other room where his conversation wouldn’t be overheard. 

When he reappeared, Indy was watching a robin, feathers bright red against the dreary gray of the sky outside by the bird feeder. He stepped into her gaze, offering her a soft smile.

“C’mon. Let’s get you some warm clothes and get outta here for a little while, hmm?”

“Where are we going?” Her tone was flat, and it made his chest feel tight.

“You’ll see. Just trust me.”

Those words hung heavy in Indiana’s mind as she followed him upstairs, let him pass her an old pair of boots that were too big for her and his thickest jacket to fight off the cold snap that seemed to follow the warm air that had brought the thunderstorms. 

Just trust me

She did. Or at least, she wanted to, and she willfully climbed back into the passenger seat of the truck, let him drive them down the road on the route that was familiar now. They made it all the way to the tiny homes without seeing another car. Indy felt like the universe was sad with her somehow, and she was grateful for it. She wasn’t sure she could handle seeing someone smile as if the world was still the same happy place it used to be. 

She blindly followed Grayson until she realized they were going around the house instead of inside of it.

“Where are we going?” She asked again. Her voice echoed off the trees.

He simply held out his hand. She took it without question, ignoring the tirade of contradicting emotions it stirred in her gut. He still had his callous where his pinky met his palm, but it was softer than usual against her skin. 

They walked through the trees slowly until they reached the cliff that Indy recognized from the first time she’d been out to Jersey. It felt like lifetimes ago that she’d been there, but the water still flowed and she still clung to Grayson’s arm the closer they got to the edge.

“Come sit over here,” he coaxed, leading her towards the middle and helping her sit down slowly. Once she was settled he sat down beside her, ignoring the cold that seeped through his pants from the ground below him. He could see his breath in front of him, but he kept his eyes on the water running far below his feet. 

“Gray.”

He tried to ignore the way his heart sung - she said his name better than anyone.

“Why are we here?” She asked. 

He was quiet for a moment, and he picked at his fingernails before he spoke.

“I used to come out here a lot when I was younger and got overwhelmed. I don’t like being around people when I need to feel something, you know? Well, I can only be around certain people anyways.” 

The fact that Indy seemed to be one of those people wasn’t lost on her as she listened to him.

“I just thought coming out here might help.”

“Me or you?”

“What?”

“Is it supposed to help me or you?”

“I was hoping both,” Grayson said.

To his surprise, Indy chuckled under her breath and shook her head.

“Well, I’m fine. I’ve done this before after all. Should be pretty good at having people I love die on me by now.” 

Grayson couldn’t find the words for a response, and his cheeks flushed from her tone. She’d never been so short with him before, and he felt embarrassed to think that somehow he’d be the one who could help her when it seemed no one else could. But he swallowed hard and looked over to her. 

“I’m not fine. And you knew her longer than I did. And I know something about losing people too. That doesn’t mean it ever gets any easier.”

Something in his words seemed to pull her out of her defensiveness, and she took in a shaky breath, eyes brimmed with tears. 

“Sorry.”

“S’okay. You can have a redo, if you want,” he teased, bumping her shoulder gently just to see her try to smile. 

“I know you get it, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t know how to do this.”

“Nobody knows how to do this Dee. No one knows how to lose a 15 year old that was supposed to be here for a lot longer than she was,” Grayson said, clearing his throat when it tightened. Indy sniffled and rubbed her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. She was quiet for a moment and they listened to the wind rustle the trees until she spoke again.

“Her mom wants me to write her eulogy.”

“Fuck, Indy.”

“I’ve never done one before. Charlie did mom’s.” 

“Do you want to do it?”

“I want her to have one,” Indy sighed, picking at the grass. “A good one though. Not the one that the preacher does where they pretend like they knew her when they really didn’t.”

Grayson reached for her hand and waited for her to look up at him.

“Maybe Charlie can help. I called her, when we got back to the house. She’s flying out tomorrow.”

Indy froze, then turned so quickly that Grayson put a hand on her hip to keep her steady on the cliff’s edge. 

“Really? She’s coming?”

Grayson nodded. “I know that things are… hard, with us right now. And I know that things are always better for me when Ethan is around so I figured it couldn’t hurt. I think her flight comes in at -”

Before he could finish Indy threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped her up as best he could without pulling her over the edge, scooting them back slightly to keep her safe as he held her as tightly as he could through all their layers. 

“Thank you,” she whispered over the trees. She couldn’t find any other words to express what it meant to her, so she left it at that and breathed him in in secret while he held her. He turned his head to press a kiss to her temple but stopped himself, squeezing her tighter instead before they untangled.

She pondered her next question for a moment, then decided she truly had nothing left to lose.

“Can we stay out here tonight? At the house.” 

Grayson paused for a minute, stopping himself from immediately saying yes, reminding himself not to take advantage.

“You wanna stay at the tiny house?”

She nodded, fingers going back to the grass, and she kicked her legs so the heels of her boots bounced slightly off the rocks. 

“The funeral is tomorrow. I need to write the eulogy, and I don’t want a bunch of people around while I do that.” 

Silence hung heavy until he gained the confidence to ask. 

“Am I… one of the people that can be around?”

For the first time in a long time, Indy smiled. 

“Did you think I was gonna kick you out of your house?”

Grayson chuckled and shook his head.

“I mean you did break my heart, so it would be fair though.”

He froze.

Indy laughed so hard it bounced off the trees, made a few birds take off on the other side of the water.

“I’m fucking kidding,” she said, nudging his shoulder so he’d let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus fuck Indy, don’t do that! Too soon!” He huffed, but he was laughing too, heart light as he saw the first glimpse of the girl he’d fallen in love with since he’d gotten home. It was easier to breathe with her around, even in spite of everything else going on. He looked at her, tried to take her in, but he stopped short with a frown when she tried to hide a shiver.

“You’re cold.”

“Just a little,” she mused. 

“Ma is making dinner, we’ll go home, eat, pack some stuff then come back out here.” Indy only nodded and let him help her to her feet. She held onto his arm until they were off the cliff, and after that too. Over top of his jacket, she traced 333 on his bicep, eyes on his tattoo that was barely visible under his growing hair. She wondered if he’d gotten any more while he was in LA.

She wondered a lot about what he’d done while he was in LA, whether she wanted to or not. But she wanted to know if he’d been up every night thinking about her. If he’d cried in the shower as many times as she did. 

She wondered if he’d hurt. 

And she wondered how much she would hurt when he decided it was time to go back. Her mind was screaming as she clung to him, wary that she wasn’t keeping him at an arm's length like she had swore she would. 

Her heart drowned it out, singing quietly deep within her at the familiar firmness of his muscles under her hand, the warmth of him beside her. 

She’d take whatever hell was sure to follow with open arms if it meant she could be back in his, even for a little while. 

Grayson played Cudi on the way back to Lisa’s and tried to hide his smile when he heard Indy singing along quietly beside him. He used the time to think of his pitch to Ethan, his plan for how they could split time on each coast, or even manage most of it from offices in New York. It wasn’t his top priority - that was getting Indy through the funeral. But he couldn’t hold off for long.

The house was warm when they arrived in more ways than one - cozy and filled with the smell of spaghetti that had Indy’s mouth watering for the first time in days. Grayson breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her fill her bowl, happy to see her appetite had returned. 

Still, when they sat around the table, Ethan and Lisa were cautious to start a conversation, worried they’d say something that could trigger the wrong emotions. After listening to the scrapes of forks against porcelain for too many minutes, Indy cleared her throat. 

“I think we should do something a little different tonight. Something to help everyone’s spirits.”

Everyone breathed.

“Yeah?” Grayson said.

“I say we eat on the couch and watch Emperor’s New Groove in true Bekah fashion,” she proposed, standing with her bowl. No one questioned her - they simply followed into the living room with their dinner in hand.

They laughed at all the right times during the movie, and the world was okay for just a minute. Indy still ached deep within herself, guilt punctuating each smile she let creep up, but she fought it like she’d learned to after Nicole had died. 

Grayson was asleep before Kuzco made it back to the castle, exhaustion catching up with him quickly. He was heavy against Indy when he leaned onto her, one arm going over her waist. She felt Ethan’s eyes on the two of them but she ignored it until he came closer, speaking in a whisper.

“Charlie’s flight gets in around 7, I’ll go get her so you all have time to get some sleep,” he offered.

“Thanks E. And thanks for coming with him.”

“Of course. And hey, anything you need Inds. Literally anything, just tell me. We’re all here for you.” 

She bit her lip and looked down at Grayson.

“Is he okay?” She asked. 

Ethan gave her a small smile. 

“This is gonna sound fucked up, considering what we're all doing tomorrow, but… this is the best I’ve seen him since we left actually. I mean, he feels like shit for not being here for, well for either of you. He just wants to take care of you as best he can.”

“He’s always been pretty good at doing that,” she murmured, brushing some of Grayson’s hair back from his forehead. He stirred, curling up closer to her. 

“Get some sleep Indy. Love yah,” Ethan said, leaning over and giving her a peck on the top of the head. 

She sat with Grayson for a bit longer, let him rest until her arm went fully numb and she knew she’d fall asleep with him unless she got up. 

She coaxed him up and made him give her the keys, let him climb in the passenger seat as she packed up a bag of pajamas and their clothes for the morning. He was asleep against the window by the time she got back in the cab, and she was happy to let him sleep. She figured he’d be happy to climb into bed when they got to the tiny homes, but he shook himself awake on the walk inside, cranking the heat up once they cleared the threshold.

“I’m okay bub, you can sleep.”

“You’re not gonna sleep?” He said instead of conceding.

“I need to write the eulogy.” 

His eyes saddened in understanding, and then he was rummaging through the bag for the paper he knew she’d packed. He sat it down on the small table and then returned to the kitchen. 

Indy watched him as he pulled two mugs down from the cabinets, the clay ones with tiny “I” and “G”’s stamped into the speckled surface. They’d found them at the craft fair they’d stumbled across back in November and picked them up, but Indy realized it was the first time they’d used them as Grayson made them a cup each. 

“Gray.”

“What do you need,” he asked quietly. 

“Um… space, I think. Just so I can think clearly for a little bit. It’s not anything you did, I promise, it’s jus-”

“Dee, you don’t have to explain. It’s okay. I’ll be upstairs. Take your time, okay?”

She nodded and took the cup he offered with a grateful smile, turning to the table to work. 

As much as it went against every instinct in his body, he left her sitting there and moved up the stairs to the loft. Even without the coffee that he downed, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to sleep. Especially not when he heard Indy’s pen clicking against the table, followed by her sniffles that seemed to amplify in the high ceilings. 

He stared at the slats of wood and tapped his fingers against each other as he fought to stay still, give her the space she asked for. He was sure it was just part of the process, and he didn’t want to interrupt her. It could have been minutes or hours, he wasn’t sure, but when her sniffles turned to sobs, he didn’t have the willpower anymore. 

She heard him coming down the stairs and broke down even further, burying her face in her hands. 

“Hey, baby hey it’s okay. You’re okay,” he whispered. “Take a break.”

She knew she shouldn’t. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn’t want to. But the need for comfort was too strong, and she broke. She stood from the table and walked over towards the small bench seat. Grayson sat first and she didn’t hesitate to climb into his lap. She buried her face in his neck and let the misery have her, let her body shake with the force of her pain and let him absorb it too. She let him hold her, let him love her the way she always thought he had. And it felt good there in his arms. The world was lighter with him there to split the weight. She knew it would crush her when he was gone, but she didn’t care. She wanted to believe Ethan’s words, that Grayson was better there with her, and it was just enough to make her feel like maybe she wasn’t a terrible person for giving in. 

Indy fell asleep in Grayson’s arms. He didn’t care whether the eulogy was finished or not - he picked her up and moved slowly across the room, carrying her up the stairs carefully. She woke up just enough to grab for his hand, a silent invitation that he was happy to take. He climbed into bed beside her, let her curl up into him as he set an alarm he didn’t want to wake up for. They slept peacefully despite it all.

The next morning felt like a dream in the worst way. Nothing seemed to really be happening as they woke up and got dressed in black. Grayson looked good in his suit, but that was about the only thing Indiana noticed. He helped zip her dress and put her eulogy in his jacket pocket. 

“You ready?” He asked as she fixed the lapels on his jacket.

“No,” she sighed, but she walked out the door anyway. He drove to the house as the sun rose over the Jersey hills. They were quiet, and Indy watched the trees go by, watched the world spin as if nothing was different that day. It made her angry, the same way it had the morning of Nicole’s funeral. But she’d learned that day that the world had no consideration for anyone, no matter what you gave her. So she swallowed it down and kept herself as numb as she could until they pulled into Lisa’s driveway and she remembered where Ethan had gone that morning. 

“She’s here,” Indy said, her voice strained. It was the most emotion Grayson had seen out of her that morning, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. But he didn’t get a chance to ask, because Indy was throwing her door open and bolting for the house. 

She found what she was looking for in the living room.

Charlie was sitting on the edge of the couch in a black dress, and as soon as she saw Indiana she was on her feet, rushing down the hallway.

Indy was sobbing before she reached her, but Charlie caught her and wrapped her up in the hug that only she could give, and Grayson watched as his girl went to pieces. Charlie held strong like big sisters do, shushing Indiana and coaxing her over to the couch, helping her sit down as she cried into her shoulder. 

“You’re okay, hey, you’re alright. Breathe,” she said, but her eyes were on Grayson.

“She’s gone,” Indy blubbered, and Charlie winced at the pain in her voice.

“I know. I know.”

Grayson stood with useless hands in his pockets and tears in the corner of his eyes. He hoped that giving Indy her sister, even just for the day, was enough to help more than he could on his own. When her tears finally stopped, it seemed his plan had worked, even if it was only marginally. She ate a muffin that Lisa had made, and made everyone coffee just the way they liked it to keep her mind and hands busy as everyone got ready to go. She didn’t bother with makeup. It wouldn’t survive the day, that she was sure of. Lisa hovered, made sure everyone had enough to eat before they climbed into the SUV. She waved goodbye from the porch as they pulled away, the funeral home in the GPS. 

It was a somber drive. No one even tried for conversation. Charlie sat in the backseat with Indy, privy to the fact that Grayson glanced back at her every few minutes to check in. Each time she was staring out the window again, chewing her cheek. 

Indy didn’t know whether the ride was long or short. She didn’t know much of anything other than she felt like she was going to be sick as they parked. Cold air rushed in as Grayson opened her door and helped her down.

“You okay?” He asked, just for her.

She nodded, but they both knew it was a lie. 

They passed car after car in the parking lot - almost every space was filled it seemed. Somewhere in her mind, Indy hadn’t processed how many people probably knew Bekah. How many people cared. 

Still, she felt alone in the world when she walked inside of the building. The carpet was dark, with swirling patterns of gold and roses. The entryway felt gold, but the parlor to the left was colder. It was marked with a sign. 

Bekah Andrea Newcomb. 2pm.

Indiana couldn’t breathe. She reached to her left, finding Grayson where she knew he would be, holding onto his arm like she had in the hospital room.

“We can wait as long as you need Indy. There’s no rush to go in there.” 

Her voice failed her and she only nodded. Grayson didn’t move an inch until she did a few minutes later, gathering the strength to step inside. It was fragrant, both in the way an unpleasant place is and in the way a floral shop was. There were enough bouquet arrangements around to fill a house. It was overwhelming, but not so much that Indy didn’t notice the photos. She couldn’t look at them - she’d go to her knees if she let herself even process a single one. So she kept her eyes forward as they walked to the opening of the door on the right.

There was a wide middle aisle, lined with pews on either side full of people.

At the end was Bekah. 

Even from afar, she looked cold inside her casket. Indy’s mouth tasted like metal as she forced herself to walk forward. Grayson walked tall beside her, but she could hear him sniffling above her. The Newcomb’s were beside their daughter, and they offered sympathetic smiles as they noticed the pair headed down the aisle. Luckily, they didn’t say anything - they simply stepped away to give them privacy as they made their way towards the casket. 

Indy held her breath as she got closer, eyes blurry as she looked down into the casket, her hands finding the cold wood when she reached it.

“Oh,” she whispered. Grayson coughed out a sob, wrapping his arm around Indy’s waist and turning his face into her hair. 

Bekah looked like herself, but didn’t. Her hands were folded neatly over her stomach, above her hoodie pockets. It took a moment for Indy to realize what she was wearing. A purple hoodie, her favorite leggings and her thunderbolt headscarf.

Her lungs tightened. 

“No, no that’s not right. It’s not right,” she whispered, shaking her head as her hands fluttered above Bekah. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Grayson asked.

“Her hoodie, she wanted her blue hoodie, that’s the one she asked for, that’s what we told her they were gonna find her in. She needs her hoodie, Gray she needs her hoodie, get her hoodie.” She couldn’t get a breath through her throat as she choked on her words, looking to Grayson for help. His face was twisted up in pain as he guided her away from the casket. 

“It’s okay Indy, it’s okay,” he cried.

“She needs her hoodie,” she sobbed, holding onto his lapel to keep him close to her and to hide her face. All he could do was hold her and cry. No one looked at them and he was grateful as he led her back out of the room, back to where Ethan and Charlie were waiting. It took her a few minutes to catch her breath, even with Charlie’s hand on her shoulder. The eldest Cross put herself between her sister and Grayson, her protective instincts taking over. Grayson couldn’t be angry. He’d step aside happily if it helped Indy. 

Her sister seemed to help to calm her down enough to catch her breath after a few minutes. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what happened in there,” she whispered eventually, looking over Charlie’s shoulder to find Grayson’s eyes.

“Hey, no apologies today Dee. It’s okay.”

She tried to believe him, tried to accept that it was okay. Something about the sincerity in his voice made her trust him. 

“I wanna go look at the pictures,” she said quietly, wiping her eyes and standing up to smooth out her dress. “Get some new images in my head.”

Grayson stepped closer to her, offering her his arm as they headed back to the parlor. Things were calmer as they started to look at all the frames. Grayson smiled at the first picture he saw of Bekah with hair, her afro tall and proud as she stood with a small soccer trophy and a smile so big it closed her eyes. 

“She taught me how to do twists once,” Indy smiled, leaning her cheek on Grayson’s bicep. “I sucked at it I’m pretty sure but it was better than nothing.”

“I’ve never seen her with hair before.”

“It made her so sad to lose it every time. She always said it was the worst part.”

“My dad hated losing his. Can’t imagine.”

“Oh my god, look at this one,” Indy smiled, moving to the next frame on the table. It was Bekah in the pool as a toddler, with round pink sunglasses and a purple floaty, with her dad behind her, pushing her along it seemed.

“She always told me she hated water.”

“She did.”

Indy turned to see Martina behind her. Her eyes were puffy but she had a small smile on her face.

“When she was four she fell off a pool float with her cousin, almost drowned. Ever since then she never even put a toe in,” she explained. She stepped up next to Indy, putting an arm around her shoulder. 

“Thank you for coming. It means the world to us that you’re here, and that you’re speaking later.”

Grayson realized quickly he wasn’t part of the conversation, and he excused himself with a reassuring look to Indy. Charlie was still where she’d started out in the entryway, eyes darting around nervously. It was obvious she was uncomfortable, and whether it was because she didn’t like funerals or didn’t know anyone, he wasn’t sure. Either way she hid it well when Indy needed her, but she didn’t bother with the facade when Grayson approached. 

“She okay?” was his greeting.

“She’s talking to Mrs. Newcomb. She seems alright, considering.”

“Considering,” Charlie laughed dryly. “Yeah, she’s been through hell and back. But you know that.”

It stung, even though it was deserved.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Well. In my experience what you meant to do doesn’t matter nearly as much as what you did.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad you’re here, but I’m scared to see what happens when you leave her again.”

“Charlie, I’m not gonna le-”

Suddenly, Charlie stiffened, eyes trained over his shoulder on something outside the front doors that made him cut his explanation short. 

“Fuck,” she hissed.

“What? What is it?” Panic rose in Grayson’s throat as he followed her gaze. 

There was a man in a navy blue suit walking through the parking lot. It wasn’t someone Grayson recognized, but nonetheless the hair on the back of his neck stood up. On instinct, he side stepped in front of Charlie, blocking her from the door.

“Who is that?”

“Our fucking dad.”

“What?“ Grayson whirled. “How the fuck did he even know about this?”

“I told him I was coming into town, he asked why, so I told him. Jesus, I didn’t think he was gonna show up! Indy’s gonna freak if she sees him, she can’t see him.”

“Don’t move,” he said, darting out of the entryway to peek into the viewing room. Indy was towards the front, talking to some of Bekah’s relatives it seemed. He caught sight of Ethan and moved to him quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to make it seem as casual as he could.

“Keep Indy busy and whatever you do, don’t let her go outside.” 

Thankfully, Ethan didn’t ask for an explanation, and he simply started to move towards the front of the room as Grayson exited out the back, just in time to get to the front door before Kenneth made it in.

To his surprise, Charlie was right beside him when the heavy wooden door closed behind them.

He was shorter than Grayson expected. It was obvious his hair had once been blonde, but it was gray now, badly managed with box dye that he could still see remnants of by his ears. 

Charlie’s breathing sped up and Grayson took a step closer to her, just barely in front of her.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Kenneth, who stopped short at the bottom of the three brick-layed stairs. 

His eyes were blue when he looked up. They skipped over Grayson’s broad frame to Charlie and softened just a fraction. 

“Char.”

She stiffened, and Grayson held his ground. 

“Sir, this is a funeral. A funeral I don’t believe you were invited to.”

Kenneth’s eyes went cold the way a father’s do when they’re threatened, and he fixed them on Grayson. Gray enjoyed the fact that he had to crane his neck to see him.

“And who exactly might you be?” Kenneth spat.

“I could ask you the same question sir.”

“The fuck are you, a funeral bouncer?”

Grayson flexed his knuckles.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call me. Either way, you aren’t welcome here and you need to go.”

“Look, I’m here to see my daughter, alright? Now get out of my way.” 

“I can’t do that.”

Kenneth narrowed his eyes as it clicked.

“Ahhh. So you’re the boyfriend then.”

Grayson stayed quiet, but his stomach turned at the smirk that creeped across the man’s face.

“Get out of my way, boy.” 

“I can’t do that,” Grayson repeated himself and set his feet.

Kenneth moved up another step, but he stopped, eyes on Grayson’s elbow where a hand had appeared. 

Charlie.

“What’s her name?”

Kenneth laughed. It was an ugly sound.

“Are you kidding me Charlie? You think I don’t know your sister’s name? Give me a fucking break.”

Grayson saw the tears brim in Charlie’s eyes, and he clenched his fists.

“No. I’m talking about the 15 year old whose funeral you’re using for your own personal gain. What’s her name?”

Kenneth didn’t have an answer. Charlie stepped in front of Grayson, standing toe to toe with her father as she took a deep breath. 

“Leave. You aren’t welcome here. You aren’t welcome anywhere near my sister, or me for that matter.”

“Charlie.”

“What type of piece of shit do you have to be to show up when your daughter is hurting like this? Hmm?”

“I just knew she’d be here-”

“You also know her address, Dad. You chose here because you want her weak, you want her to need you and she doesn’t. Get out. Leave. I’m not playing this game anymore.”

“Charlie c’mon.” Grayson could see the panic in Kenneth’s eyes as he realized what his eldest was really saying. 

“Indiana has always been so much smarter than me. And I should have listened to her when she told me to not give you the time of day.” She shook her head, a few tears slipping past her eyelashes, taking mascara with them.

“Charlie, you’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, and you did that to yourself. Now, I have a funeral to get to, and if you try to follow me I’ll let him beat you into the ground like you deserve.”

With that, she turned and walked back through the doors.

Grayson stared at the broken man for a moment longer, and then he turned to follow her. She was sitting in one of the big chairs by the table by the window, hands shaking slightly as she brushed her hair behind her ear. 

“Hey, you okay?” He squatted down beside her to get to her eye level. He saw Indy in the way her lips shook while she breathed, trying to pull it together. 

“Do you want me to call Dev?”

She shook her head with a dry laugh.

“No, he’s already worried enough about me. I’m okay. Thank you for that, by the way. Pretty sure he would have just walked right past me if you weren’t out there. I shouldn’t have even told him about this.”

“You didn’t know he was gonna show up. I’m just glad he didn’t make it inside,” Grayson sighed, eyes flickering over to make sure Indy couldn’t see them. Charlie knew what he was looking for. 

“Well, you’re the hero of the day Dolan. I’m sure deflecting the dead beat father counts for some brownie points in winning her over,” she said. 

Grayson’s brows furrowed when he looked at her. He reached to the table and pulled a tissue for her to wipe her mascara with before he spoke.

“I wasn’t gonna tell her. No need to stress her out more than she already is, you know?”

Charlie looked at him for a moment, her head cocking to the right just barely, and she smiled just barely.

“Yeah. Right,” she agreed. 

“I’m gonna go find her, but come get me if you need me okay?”

She nodded, smiling when he patted her knee and moved back into the parlor. Ethan was walking around with Indy, looking at all the floral arrangements that had been sent. Grayson slotted himself beside her.

“Are the blue ones different flowers though? Like what makes them purple?” Ethan asked.

“They’re all hydrangeas. I think it has something to do with the soil, that’s what makes them different colors.”

“Acid. The soil has to be acidic, Ma always adds stuff to get the blue ones at the house,” Grayson chimed in, subtly relieving Ethan of his duties. Indy relaxed when she felt him next to her.

“The blue ones are my favorite,” she hummed, rubbing a petal between her thumb and finger. 

“Noted,” Grayson said. “Let’s get you some water, it’s almost 2.”

She didn’t protest, nerves buzzing with dread as she realized it was almost time for her to speak in front of so many people. 

“You have my speech right?”

He patted his chest pocket where he’d tucked it that morning.

“You’ve got this. I’ll be right there the whole time, okay?”

She nodded, following him to the small kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

Time flew, and before she knew it everyone was seated in the parlor as quiet music played and the service began. There was a preacher who spoke, read some scripture. Indy could only hear her own heartbeat in her ears. Grayson’s hand anchored her, squeezing hers just barely. He traced over knuckles with his finger. B-R-E-A-T-H-E.

She tried, but her lungs felt tight when the preacher gave her the cue. She stood and smoothed out her dress, took the paper from Grayson. It quivered in the air as she carried it to the podium. There were too many eyes on her, too many red and bloodshot from tears already shed. 

She looked at Grayson. He only nodded at her, a silent reassurance. She smoothed the paper out on the wood, inhaled through her nose, and spoke.

“Hi. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Indiana Cross, and I was a friend of Bekah’s. I’ve never done one of these before, and to be completely honest with you, I’m not really sure how to do one of these. So, I thought about what Bekah would do when I asked her a question - she’d tell me we were living in the 21st century, and that I should ‘just google it’. So that’s what I did. But it wasn’t helpful, because eulogies aren’t designed to be told about 15 year olds. Because 15 year olds are supposed to turn 16, and get their driver’s license and go to prom and grow up to be 17, and so on. So, I don’t think any of us know how to do this -” she waved around the room with a broken exhale - “but that’s okay.”

“I’m the type of person who believes that there are reasons for a lot of things in life, but I’m struggling, like I’m sure many of you are today, to understand what the reason for Bekah being taken from us so soon is. Maybe it’s beyond our understanding. Maybe it’s the cruelty of the universe. All I know is, it isn’t fair, and it isn’t going to make sense to me for a very long time. But all we can do is work to remember Bekah for the light that she was, and will continue to be. So, I’m going to share a few stories about Bekah, and the people that loved her. 

She could hear the sniffles, both her own amplified in the mic, and those from the crowd. She locked eyes with Grayson, who was sitting in the third row. He only nodded his head, willing all of his strength up to her somehow.

“I first met Bekah in a place where you generally don’t want to meet someone. The hospital. But, as anyone could guess, Bekah made a hospital seem like the best place to be simply by being there herself. We played pranks on the nurses, and then got said nurses in on our team and ganged up on the other ones. We ran the halls on good days, we cuddled up and watched movies on bad days. We snuck extra pudding and ice cream from the kitchen once when she was thirteen and got caught, and let me just say, I think that girl could have talked her way out of any trouble she ever got herself in. But the most important thing about that first hospital stay with Bekah was what she told me when I met her. She looked me right in the eyes and she said ‘don’t treat me like I’m sick and I won’t act like it’. I had never met a kid with so much strength and bravery in my life. But that’s what we did, and by god did she keep that energy until the very end. 

“Bekah went into remission 3 times. And when I found out she was back for this next time, I figured it would be just like her past rounds. She would beat it, because she’s Bekah, and she always beats it. I don’t know where her strength comes from, but I know some of it is from her parents. But in all honesty, I think she was just a special person with something special in her. She was kind, and loving and strong and hilarious and witty and smart and beautiful and special. I would give up just about anything to get to see her grow up, to see the woman she would have become if - if she’d been given just a little bit more t-time.”

Indy’s voice began to falter, her breath hitching in her throat on the way out. She grabbed onto the podium, her notes blurry with tears. Grayson twitched in his pew, moving to stand up, to go to her. She saw him and moved her hand to the top of the wood, tapping her fingers subtly. Somehow, he knew what she meant. Wait.

“But I can find some peace in knowing how Bekah’s last days went, and I hope I can share some of that with you. She wasn’t scared to die. She went peacefully, and I don’t have a single doubt that she’s up in heaven watching us right now, probably making fun of me and also thanking me for not telling you all some of the stories of things we got up to. So to end it, I’ll quote a lyric from one of her favorite people, who she claimed would ‘totally be her boyfriend if he knew she had cancer’, Harry Styles. He says “remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here.” For now, Bekah is far away. And that’s a hard reality, for all of us, because she deserved more time here. But I know we’ll see her again someday, and I’m going to hold onto that until this starts to make a bit more sense, if it ever does. So, I love you Beks. Always have, always will. And I’ll see you again someday. Promise.”

Her voice cracked at the end as she stepped back from the microphone, fingers numb and cheeks hot and stiff from the salt of her tears. Grayson stood as she walked back down the center aisle to him, reached out to take her hand and help her to her seat. With the pressure gone and everyone’s eyes elsewhere, she crumpled into his chest, grabbing onto the lapel of his suit jacket as the sobs began to break free.

“Shhh, you’re okay. You did so good,” he whispered just for her, his own tears disappearing into her hair. Charlie ran a hand along her back to soothe her as the preacher returned to the podium to speak again. She didn’t hear much of what he said. Everyone cried as the service moved on, sounds of rustled tissue boxes and quiet sobs behind fists made the soundtrack to the show no one wanted to see. 

Everything moved too quickly, and suddenly everyone was lining up to pass by and give their final goodbyes. Indy clung to Grayson’s hand as Ethan and Charlie excused themselves out of respect. 

Indy blinked away her tears to get one more look at Bekah when it was her turn. Grayson reached to adjust her head scarf, and Indy rubbed her hand, willing herself to pretend it was warm. 

Grayson was a pallbearer, eyes red and puffy as he carried her much too light casket to the back of the hearse. It gave Indy comfort, knowing she was safe with him.

She held it together on the walk to the car, head held high the way Bekah would want it to be, and she noticed Charlie scurry to take the front seat, forcing Grayson into the back with her. She was grateful for it, especially when she slid into the middle seat so she could sit next to him as they joined the procession. 

Indy watched the trees, and Grayson watched her.

The cemetery was beautiful as they drove through it. Plenty of trees that Indy knew would be beautiful in the warmer months. It gave her some peace to know that she would rest in such a lovely place, even though she knew she wasn’t really there. She hoped it would give people a place to remember her fondly, to talk to her. She herself had never really cared for cemeteries, but she stood tall anyways and went through the motions. She watched Grayson carry the casket to the pedestal, took the rose that they gave her off of the casket spray and said her goodbyes quietly. 

The sun shone brightly above them, but it began to drizzle right as she was about to climb into the car. A sun shower, she supposed.

Her tears mixed with the droplets that fell. 

“Hey Beks,” she smiled, an odd sense of peace flowing over her as she stood there for a moment to soak it in before she climbed into the car. 

Ethan drove them back to Jersey, and Indy laid her head on Grayson’s shoulder the whole two hours it took to get there. 

When they got back, it was obvious what Lisa had been doing to keep herself busy. There was a casserole in the oven, both a vegan and non-vegan option, with fresh salad and bread she’d baked herself. 

“I know it’s not really dinner time yet, I just figured you guys might be hungry when you got back, and I didn’t have much else to do,” Lisa explained with a sheepish smile. Grayson just smiled at her and kissed her temple.

“Thanks Ma. You’re the best. Dee, you want something to change into?”

“Sure. My stuff is out at the house though,” she reminded him.

“I’ll find you something,” he said before he disappeared upstairs.

“The house? You all stayed out at the tiny homes last night?” Charlie asked quietly. Indy bristled, ready to defend herself. 

“I needed to write the eulogy, I needed somewhere quiet, and it’s nice out there. I just needed somewhere nice for the night, not my place.”

Charlie was smiling.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” she said. Indy balked, unsure that she’d heard her sister correctly. She resisted the urge to quote some of the explitivies Charlie had called Grayson when she first found out he’d left for LA during their phone call.

“You’re not saying it’s a bad thing…” Indy confirmed, waiting.

“All I’m saying is… maybe I was wrong. He’s a good guy. Just be careful, okay? Can’t see you like that again, especially with all this going on too.”

Indy was blushing, but she nodded. 

“Here, try these. Might fit if you roll them and tie em’ real tight.” Gray came down the stairs with a pair of black sweatpants and an old wrestling sweatshirt. She took them gratefully, moving into the bathroom to change. She felt free once her dress was gone, like she’d pulled some of the weight of the day off with the fabric. The sweats were still too big, but she didn’t mind. 

Outside the door and down the hallway, Ethan had pulled his brother aside.

“You need to be here.” 

Grayson waited for him to continue.

“I was fucking wrong. I got my priorities fucked, and I put that on you, and I’m sorry. I know the businesses are out in LA, and I don’t think we can really change that right now, but we’ll figure it out. I can fly out here when we need to, and you can come out when you have to.”

Indy heard voices down the hall. 

“Flights are cheaper on Thursdays usually, we could always plan for that.”

It hurt worse somehow, for it to be in Grayson’s voice. 

It was Tuesday.

She disappeared quietly down the hall in the other direction, her stomach turning. 

It was what she knew would happen. It was the pain she’d told herself would be worth letting herself be with him, just for a few more days. 

The pain in her gut had other ideas. The smell of the food from the kitchen made her nauseous when she reentered, and she gave Lisa a sympathetic smile. The angel in the whole ordeal, the last thing she wanted was to hurt her.

“Hey Li, I’m not feeling too good. I think I’m gonna lay down upstairs for a bit if that’s okay.”

“Of course, of course it’s okay. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you, and thank you for cooking. You guys go ahead and eat if you get hungry, I’m probably good for tonight.”

“Okay sweetie, get some rest.”

Indy managed to get upstairs undetected, and she found herself in Grayson’s room out of habit. She didn’t know what else to do, so she climbed under the covers and let her tears fall. She felt stupid, and unwanted, and sad. She’d let her heart get trampled again, all for a few days of comfort. 

She felt pathetic. 

Grayson’s feet thudded up the stairs only a few minutes later. She buried her face in the covers like a child, made her breathing even and slow. 

He creaked the door open quietly, feet pausing before he came over to her. 

She felt his hand on her hair, smoothing it back, and then his lips on her temple. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and then he was gone. 

Indy’s heart jumped to her throat, and her eyes shot open when she heard the door latch. 

Her mind ran circles around itself as she laid there, staring at the ceiling wrapped in the blankets that smelled like him. 

Did he love her? And if he did, did it matter?

It was times like that she wished more than anything that her mom was there. The closest thing she had was Charlie, who she suddenly felt guilty for leaving downstairs. But at the same time, she knew she couldn’t reappear so soon. So she sat, and she spiraled and rationalized and tried to make sense of her world that had fallen apart around her so quickly. 

Downstairs, Grayson’s mind was wandering. His stomach led him, as it often did, but the greater part of him wanted to be upstairs in bed instead of at the kitchen table. But he couldn’t deny his mom’s cooking, especially after a hard day. So he sat at the table, glad that Charlie was no longer staring daggers into him from across the table. He gave Indy an hour or so to sleep before he went to check on her again, surprised to see her awake, perched on the edge of the bed.

“Hey you,” he smiled. “You ready to go?”

She looked up quickly. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she looked nervous.

“Go?”

“To the house. All our stuff is out there, and I figured Charlie could stay in here tonight.”

“Yeah. Yeah, the house would be good.”

He held his hand out for her and she took it, let him lead her out to the truck, down the roads to the houses. 

“You still tired?” Grayson asked once he’d kicked his boots off.

She thought of laying with him and nodded, walking up to the loft so he would follow. 

He laid down beside her, let her curl up to him like she always had. It was peaceful, with the quiet hum of the furnace and the woods outside. The sun had set on their drive, and the dim lights from the kitchen made everything a warm yellow. 

Indy took a deep breath and moved her hand under Grayson’s hoodie to find his skin. 

Y-O-U-C-A-N-G-O

Grayson was quiet for a moment.

“What?”

She traced it again, slower, but she didn’t get to finish. He sat up in the middle of it, turning to her with concern all over his face.

“You want me to go?”

She stared at the ceiling.

“Want isn’t really the right word. But you can go.”

His heartbeat picked up, and he moved into her eye line.

“What does that mean.”

“I really appreciate you being here. I do. But I’m gonna be okay. You don’t have to stay here just because I’m sad. You don’t have to stay for me.”

A punch to the gut would have hurt him less. 

“Indy. Indy, look at me.”

She turned and found his eyes, and to her surprise, his were watery.

“You’re my only reason to stay. I want to stay.”

“Stop. Just stop, I heard you earlier, you don’t have to pretend like you want to be here.”

“What’re you talking about?”

Indy sat up on her elbows.

“Flights are cheap on Thursdays,” she said. Grayson’s heart dropped for a moment, and then the pieces came into place. 

“Indy. Baby, that wasn’t what you think it was.”

“Then what was it Grayson, please enlighten me.” 

Grayson took her hand and kissed her knuckles. 

“That was Ethan and I trying to figure out how I can stay here. How I can stay here with you. Because I want to be here. I want to be with you, I always have. Ever since I met you I knew I was meant to be wherever you are. I never should have left, it was the dumbest shit I ever did. And I didn’t want to bring all this up, because I know emotions are fucked right now, with Beks and everything. But I want to be here with you, or I want you with me, or I want whatever it takes for us to be okay and together. If that’s something you still want.”

Her head was spinning. 

“You still want me?”

He nodded. 

“Never stopped.” 

Indy took in her first deep breath in days.

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a while. Grayson opened and closed his mouth a few times, thinking better of his words before he spoke them. 

“It’s okay if you don’t know tonight. There’s too much going on right now, I don’t expect you to know how you feel about it right now,” he finally said, voice too loud in his excitement and nerves.

“Yeah. I need time to… think.”

“Yeah! Yeah, no that’s good. I want you to take your time with it, of course. And I can give you as much space as you need, you know, like, um, I can go sleep on the couch. If you want.”

Despite everything, Indy laughed.

“You don’t even fit on the couch.”

“I could make it work,” he said sheepishly.

“You’re fine. Just go to sleep, and I’ll… I’ll think about it.” 

There was an excitement in his voice that she hadn’t heard in a long time - it snuck through even as he tried to hide it.

“Okay. Sounds good. Well, uh… goodnight.”

“Goodnight Gray.”

They stared at each other for a minute, unsure of what to do with all the new emotions that had come to light.

“We should probably lay down, if we’re gonna sleep,” Indy said.

“Right, yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she said again, watching him awkwardly pull back the covers and climb in fully clothed. She wanted to laugh at how awkward it was, as if they hadn’t been in each other’s arms every night since he’d been back. He kept his back to her, and she knew with her mind buzzing she wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

She pulled her laptop out of the bag by the bed, fired up her hotspot and started to scroll through her feeds, passing mindless time and keeping herself busy until Grayson began to snore, rolling to his stomach. It was a sweet sound, and she couldn’t help but to reach over and move his covers up, her fingers brushing over his arm.

He stirred under her touch, grunting a bit as he half woke up, sitting up just enough to pull the yellow hoodie over his head and toss it off the bed.

“Whatcha doing,” he mumbled, reaching a blind hand out until he found skin, fingers landing on her leg under the covers. Indy smiled and moved her hand away from her keyboard, scratched lightly up and down his back, over his tattoo as a thought crossed her mind. 

“Just emails. Almost done.”

“You okay?” He asked, voice muffled by the pillow. 

“I’m okay. Sleep.”

“M’kay.”

He was snoring again momentarily, and once she was sure he was out she claimed her hand back, clicking quietly until she got to what she was looking for. 

Her email from UCLA. 

She scrolled down to the bottom, looked at the two links she had stared at so many times since it had arrived in her inbox.

Accept. Decline.

She moved her mouse and clicked once, and then she closed her laptop, put it on the nightstand and cuddled under the covers. Grayson huffed at her movements, reaching for her in the dark. She let him pull her closer, relishing in the feeling of being with him for another night.

[mcsmmafia]

MC:SM Mafia – Round VII 🎁

THE 7TH ROUND OF MAFIA

What could be better than a nice, fun christmas party with your friends? Obviously, a nice, fun christmas party in a big, christmas-themed cottage of a mansion’s size! So you couldn’t believe your eyes when your mailbox presented you with the greatest early christmas present ever: An invitation from an old friend whom you can’t remember ever having written to! My, your memory must really be weakening. But who cares, christmas party, CHRISTMAS PARTY!!!

So you did what any normal human being would do, and went immediately without even packing your stuff. No worries, your old friend said they’ve prepared everything for your stay, so what could you possibly need on your way?

…Well, maybe you should have packed. At least the most basic stuff, like weapons. For A ZOMBIE HORDE CIRCUMVENTED YOU SHORTLY BEFORE YOUR ARRIVAL AT THE MANSION! AHHHH!

Through pure willpower, you managed to run through them, only face-planting a few times here and there because wet, cold ground turns out to be really slippery. You made it to the front door, and you knocked crazy like there was no tomorrow, because there may be just none for you if you had to stay out here any second longer. Not only because of the zombies, but it was also really getting cold. Brrr…

To your delight, the door soon opened as if by magic. It was pitch-back inside, but you entered anyway… and, again as if by magic, an outstanding white pumpkin fell down and right onto your head! Was it a house rule to wear those indoors???

You slowly felt your way in the dark, found another door and opened it – and there was light. It was so bright, it blinded you for a moment, but then you saw – there were the other party guests! They also all had white pumpkins on their heads. Maybe you skipped in the letter that it was a special costume party?

Before you could ask any questions, however, a female sounding voice with long, red hair surfacing under her pumpkin began to speak. Your old friend?

"I’ve gathered you all here for a special event", she said. "We’re gonna play a party game… have you ever heard of werewolf? One of us is gonna be the traitor, the others are gonna be the innocent citizens, and you have to find out who is who. Now, let the game begin!"

With that, for a second, it was pitch black again – and when the light came back, your host has disappeared.

Ooh, a party game, that sounds really fun! What could possibly go wrong?

Dear guests, it is time.

To play.

A VERY META GAME OF MAFIA WEREWOLF!

And don’t forget to thank your old friend for hosting the party… while you still can. 😉

☀ Results of Day 1:

After that friendly announcation from your old friend, you greeted the other party guests, acting like you actually could recognize them, before scattering in the search for vacant mattresses and pillows. Maybe we could have a little slumber party to start things out!

🌑 Results of Night 1:

Ready for a slumber party, Magnus grabbed some pillows and blankets from the bed chamber and climbed up to the attic. He was shook when he saw his old friend Lluna the llama there, and accused Stella of stealing her from him! However, Lluna had already moved on, knowing that Magnus would be okay on his own. They had a short but sweet moment, before Magnus told Lluna that she cannot have their TNT, to which she walked away snobbishly. Magnus then went on to sleep, since nobody seemed to be in the mood for a party…

Note: The person playing Magnus this round played as Stella in the previous round.

Jesse was not up for the idea of a slumber party, and snuck away to the most unlikely place for a gathering: The attic! To their surprise, however, the attic soon turned out to be a hotspot! But at least they found Stella, so they could follow their plan to guard her for the night.

Stella climbed up the attic and was glad to have found JxJessica. Now she could sleep silently knowing they’re protected.

Dan was not up for the idea of a slumber party – he’s gonna stay right here and solve this mystery TONIGHT! So he spent the whole night thinking about who seemed sus.

While the others were busy thinking about party stuff, CASSIE snuck away to the library. Time to bring some real fun into this party… She entered the secret hallway and set off a trap in the bed chamber, gallery and the living room, to hopefully cause maximum damage!

Stampy was compelled by this cute adorable calico-cat OMG!!, so he did the only logic conclusion and followed the kitty to the living room, seperating himself from the boring others who wanted to throw a slumber party. Time for a CAT PARTY! Although he wanted the kitty to stay safe, so he made sure to disharmed all the traps in the room.

☀ Results of Day 2:

Dan started the conversation by stating where they were last night, and Stampy did the same. It quickly ended there, though. 🤷

Magnus then pointed his stone sword against CASSIE and warned her that he knew who she was. CASSIE said that that was an accomplishment, as she barely knows who she is herself. Magnus was so stunned by this answer, he couldn’t even speak. 😮

🌒 Results of Night 2:

Magnus had a super hard time trying to digest that information… how could anyone know anything about CASSIE, if she didn’t even know it herself? How would the universe still work?? HOW DOES HER HEAD NOT EXPLODE??? Deeply in thought, he was surprised by nightfall, and quickly ran back to the good trusted attic to try and clear his mind. There he found Winslow, and after a short moment of shock, he decided to try and befriend him. However, Winslow demanded fish for a bribe, so Magnus decided to get him fish tomorrow and sleep for the night.

Eh! It’ll be fine, as long as Jesse and Stella are working together. That’s the power of friendship! Insert Trademark So they followed her into the living room and started thinking about their next move. Not for too long though, as their tiredness quickly caught up with them, carrying them to the land of dreams.

Not saying a word, ’cause a llama says it all, Stella decided to go to the living room. There, she and Jesse reassured each other that they didn’t have any suspects yet, before Stella decided to brag about her strategy to Stampy. Afterwards, she stayed awake the whole night.

Well, that didn’t really go anywhere, Dan thought to himself… but maybe there’s just no mystery to solve yet. So, how to kill time until the first murder happens…? – Let’s look at some pictures in the gallery, maybe. Maybe they could be hiding some clues! After carefully inspecting each painting, he concluded that there were no secrets to be found, so he went to sleep. It was then that CASSIE striked and gagged and fettered them, carelessly (seriously, ow!) dragging them all the way down to their basement, where feline eyes continually stared into Dan’s very soul… He soon began to see cat faces everywhere, in every detail of the wall, even in the wrinkles of his hands- THEY’RE EVERYWHERE, DAN MUST OBEY OR HE’LL SUFFER IN CAT-HELL FOR ETERNITY!!!

That was close! Magnus sure seemed very hostile towards CASSIE, out of nowhere really. She hasn’t even killed anyone yet! But anyway, since the traps didn’t do anything last time, she decided to change up her strategy and start acting like that really shady neighbor from her early childhood and followed Dan to the gallery. There, she waited until Dan was sleeping soundly, and then she striked and gagged and fettered him and dragged him down to her basement. There, she whistled for their cats, and let the magic happen. Yes, stare into Dan’s very soul, good kitty!

That was a nice little exchange of information – until CASSIE dropped those words. Oh my – Stampy didn’t even know what to answer to that! He definitely needed to clear his head after that to prevent himself from starting to ask existential questions he didn’t (wanna) know the answer to, so he went back to the living room and looked at those amazingly constructed traps again (seriously, a genius made these!). Seems like they have reset… dang it. After successfully clearing his mind and having a nice talk with Jesse and Stella, he took the risk and went to bed.

Dan was kidnapped.

☀ Results of Day 3:

Magnus immediately broke the ice by telling everyone that he NEEDED FISH. DESPERATELY!

Stampy professionally ignored him and questioned his and Dan’s whereabouts. They both answered, but Magnus then rambled about being SNOW WHITE and raided the kitchen, only granting Dan one cooked salmon. 🐟

Dan, on the other hand, stated that he was kidnapped, and Stampy suggested that it was CASSIE due to her being in the gallery with Dan.

Magnus believed Dan, and threatened to throw CASSIE out. Stella confirmed that Stampy didn’t have a metallic weapon. Stampy admitted that he followed Winslow for the first night because kitty. Winslow sure seemed to have enchanted a lot of guests this time around! 😼

Medi confessed that he was Dan. CASSIE tried to save herself by saying that Dan must be lying and that she was an adventurer. Magnus then threatened to nuke the room, because why not. 🧨

Magnus suggested to keep CASSIE locked up in the closet, and CASSIE agreed with a warning that she’d be making gay jokes all night.

After a little more discussion, Magnus went on to demand Dan to go with him. Then he suddenly changed his mind and suggested Dan to get into the closet and CASSIE staying with him to have a gay mini party and vibe with her.

Stampy brought up the idea to have everyone go together into one room, since he can deactivate traps and Magnus would win any fight with more than three people.

So, which plan to follow now? Magnus said that CASSIE would go with him and Dan into the closet. Then he changed his mind and said the opposite. Dan was the only one who actually voted, together with Jesse volunteering to be the guard.

Oh boy, what a discussion we’ve had today!

🌓 Results of Night 3:

Magnus sure had a plan going into this. Making sure to take a little detour to the kitchen first and get all that yummy and very smelly fish, he headed straight up to the attic and held his TNT ready. This is going to be a very interesting night! …Well, he hoped so anyway, but since he couldn’t watch Dan – it was way too dark without any windows up here –, he couldn’t do anything but go to sleep.

The others had a long and honestly a bit tiring conversation about who is the liar – Dan or CASSIE –, and Jesse were glad when it finally ended with them telling Jesse to volunteer as a guard for the closet. At least their Flint & Steel is gonna be safe in there, too… They didn’t trust CASSIE one bit, so they poked her throughout the whole night.

>> Alrighty! Magnus wasn’t the only one with a plan tonight! Now, let’s see if Lluna is sniffing something diamond at Dan… No? Really nothing? Now that’s super SUS! Stella stayed awake the whole night, just in case she is going to be attacked – even though she was really tired…

What an audacity of CASSIE to straight up tell everyone that Dan was the liar and she’s innocent! Dan wasn’t sure what Magnus had in mind, but he definitely hope his plan will work. He really didn’t want to kill anyone tonight… maybe he won’t though, as that would make CASSIE a top suspect… Welp, he was wrong. He suddenly heard a calico cat’s threatening meow behind him – oh god, they’re here! What did they want from Dan!? What – kill Stampy?! No way he would do that – No, he didn’t want to – but the cats approached closer – circumventing him – hissing – staring – aaaaAAAAAHH! Dan couldn’t endure it any longer! Sorry, Stampy, he HAD to do this!!!

Welp, that could’ve gone better… Pity that Dan isn’t the one being locked up first. But Magnus was not the only person with a plan, for sure. CASSIE whispered Winslow her stratetgy via cat language, and kept eye contact with him as she entered the closet. It’s all or nothing! She couldn’t do much but endure the constant poking of her guard Jesse. Yes, she wouldn’t get any shut eye, that’s fair.

Magnus sure seemed to have some kind of plan, even if a little questionable. After a long and good discussion, he decided to drag them all up to the attic. Stampy really couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to… Stampy didn’t have any weapon, after all. Hopefully this isn’t a terrible idea… And what a terrible idea it was! He honestly couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by Dan’s pure presence. Yet, he closed his eyes and went into the realms of dreams… but not for long, as he suddenly woke up to Dan’s hands strangling his throat. He couldn’t scream for help… or even whisper… all he could do was die, in silence, with no one even noticing.

Stampy has died!

The Last Day ☀

"Let’s keep CASSIE alive. CASSIE isn’t Cassie.", Magnus said sarcastically, mocking the dead. This ol’ "party game" had nothing on him. He went on to take the lead on CASSIE’s final demise. WE’RE GONNA THROW HER OUT, TODAY! And everyone (but CASSIE) agreed.

Needless to say, this was not going to plan for CASSIE.

But then, from somewhere, the guests could hear a distant meow… is that… is that from the ocean??

Dan, thinking that the ghost of Stampy was still among them, apologized for killing him. Another gentle "meow" revealed that this was the only way Stampy would’ve accepted to die. How heart-warming and heart-breaking at the same time…

Anyway, let’s get back to ELIMINATING CASSIE!

But suddenly, CASSIE whistled, and in the next second, countless calico cats started to appear out of everywhere. Dan screamed in fear, but Magnus already had a plan-

"Here, kitty kitty!", he yelled, gaining the cats’ attention with the ungodly amount of fish he robbed from the kitchen. The tons and tons of copies of Winslow were almost going to crush him, but he managed to throw the fish out of a window just in time, and the cats instantly followed. There they all went, not a single one left to be pet… or to defend Cassie.

"Time for plan B", CASSIE said to herself, yieled her diamond axe, then threw it on the ground and yeeted outta there. EVERYONE, AFTER HER!!!

She ran and ran and ran, but eventually, the guests were able to corner her. They grabbed all of CASSIE’s arms and legs, and dragged her back to the entrance hall.

"Any final words?", Magnus asked.

"H HHH HH HHH H H"

And with that, they threw Cassie out to the… wait. There were no zombies.    Riiiiight.

"Time for plan B indeed", Magnus agreed and went to get the diamond axe CASSIE had left behind. Oh, no… no, no, no no no no NO-

And with that, he cut down a nearby tree and used the wood to build a giant cage around Cassie. What were you thinking, that he would decapitate CASSIE? Oh, of course we’re gonna do that too! 🪓

Yeah, what a lame party this was.

The guests have won the game! 🎁

~ Note: The person playing Stampy has a username referring to the Sea.

[chocolatequeennk]

The Look of Love

After two years of friendship, James and Rose finally admit to the truth they've always seen in each other's eyes. 

This is a Ten/Rose Coffee shop AU, based on a Facebook post @jabber-who-key and I saw last year around the holidays. We both knew it had to be a fic, so this one is for her!

This is for @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas, using the word, “love.” This is day 3 on my personal 31 Days of Ficmas.

AO3 | FF

Noble and Smith Coffee and Tea—Why not give a cuppa for Christmas?

Rose flushed with pleasure when she saw her own hand-lettered work in the window of her favourite coffee shop. She’d been doing their windows since her first year in school, but this year’s Christmas art really outshone everything else she’d done.

She’d painted an entire winter vignette, with children sledding down a hill and building a snowman. In the middle of the picture, couples skated hand in hand around a pond.

Rose stepped through the crowd of people bustling up and down the pavement so she could touch one of the happy couples. The woman’s blonde hair was loose and trailing after her in the wind, and if the bloke’s brown hair and arched eyebrow looked a lot like a certain coffee shop owner…

A twinge of nervous excitement joined her pride. She tapped the card she held against her fingers and tried to imagine how James would respond.

The bell over the door jingled merrily, adding to the festive sounds in the air. “Rose! I almost didn’t think you’d make it today—you’re later than usual.”

Rose took a deep breath and turned around to look at James Smith, the bloke she’d secretly been in love with for two years.

All her efforts to stay calm were pointless when she saw him leaning casually against the doorframe of the cafe. He was wearing his favourite brown pinstriped suit, but he’d set aside the jacket like he usually did when he was working behind the counter. Instead, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing his freckled forearms. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and the end was tossed up over his shoulder so it wouldn’t dangle in the milk when he steamed it.

Then Rose saw his crowning glory, and the schoolgirl giddiness she’d felt when she saw him was replaced with a burst of laughter. Perched on top of his head was a set of reindeer antlers, complete with a jaunty bow and a bell that jingled when he shook his head.

“What are you…” James reached up to his hair. “Oh. Donna made me wear them, you know, since it’s Christmas Eve. She got them from her granddad.” His ears and cheeks turned bright red, and he took them off and tugged on his ear.

Rose shook her head and pulled them from his hands. “I think they look perfect,” she told him as she put them back on his head. “You look very dashing.” She giggled again. “Maybe you’re Dasher?”

James preened a bit when she called him dashing, but before they could continue the conversation, a gust of wind blew down the street and he shivered violently. “Brrr! What are we standing out here for? Come inside. I’ll make you my newest holiday drink.”

Rose followed James inside and slid her coat off. “And what’s that? Cinnamon swizzle mocha? Orange spice tea? Coffee with mulling spices in it?”

James arched an eyebrow as he ducked behind the counter. “You won’t be laughing at me in a minute, Rose Tyler.”

To Rose’s surprise, he reached up to the tea canisters instead of filling the espresso pod with grounds. “What are you doing?” She sidled closer so she could watch him work.

James smirked as he measured out a bunch of spices into a tea bag. “Not what you expected, is it Rose?”

“I was only joking when I suggested mulled coffee, James.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, then turned around to a slow cooker and ladled steaming liquid into the cup. The coffee shop was instantly filled with the aroma of cinnamon, clove, and orange peel. Rose couldn’t help her soft sigh of satisfaction, and James rocked back on his heels after she took the cup from him.

Rose brought the cup to her nose and sniffed. “Oh, that smells gorgeous,” she murmured. “What is it?”

“Hot apple juice, with spices. Basically mulled apple juice instead of mulled wine.” He shook his head quickly when she started to take a sip. “Let it cool for a minute, Rose. It’s hotter than most things.”

Rose nodded and took the cup with her to her table. She glanced back at James, working at the espresso machine on his own beverage. This is it, she told herself, her heart pounding when she put his card on the table in front of the empty chair.

When James joined her a moment later, his steps slowed when he caught sight of the card. “What’s this?” He set his coffee down and picked it up as he sat down.

“Just…” Rose licked her dry lips. “Just open it.”

His finger slid under the envelope flap, but his gaze didn’t leave her face, and Rose knew he could tell how nervous she was. His forehead was wrinkled in confusion, and she had to knot her hands together to keep from opening the card for him to get it over with.

Finally, he pulled the card out of the envelope. His giggle when he saw the picture of Santa falling into an open fire eased some of Rose’s nerves, and she laughed along with him when he read the inside greeting.

Then he picked up the two pieces of heavy card stock that she’d put inside the card, and she couldn’t breathe again.

“An Evening in the Stars,” he read aloud. “Rose, these are tickets for the planetarium show next month.”

She nodded.

His mouth dropped open as he stared at her. “It’s been sold out for months!”

Rose knew that perfectly well. She’d heard James talk up the show, then she’d heard all about his disappointment when he was sick the week tickets went on sale and he missed getting them.

“Well… You remember that week?”

“Only in bits and pieces,” he said drily.

“When I realised you were going to miss getting tickets, I ordered for you. I’ve had these since September, just waiting to give to you.”

James’ eyes widened. “But… you…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then looked at the tickets. “There are two here.”

Rose’s palms were sweaty, and she wiped them off on her trousers. “Yeah. Well… I thought we could go together? I love listening to you talk about the stars. And if I could see this with you… that would be fantastic.”

James didn’t say anything, and Rose almost lost her nerve. But she’d promised herself she would at least tell him how she felt, even if he didn’t feel the same way. She couldn’t handle not knowing, wondering if she were reading too much into his actions, wondering if he could possibly return her feelings or if he just saw her as a friend.

So after a steadying breath, she looked him in the eye. “I thought it could be a date, if you like.” James’ eyes widened, and Rose forced herself to continue on with the speech she’d rehearsed. “You’ve been my best friend for two years, James, ever since the first time I came into the shop on my way home from class. But… the thing is, I’ve been falling for you almost as long, and I keep wondering what it would be like if we were more than friends.” She shrugged, then gestured at the tickets. “So I thought I’d ask.”

Silence stretched between them, leaving Rose’s confession hanging in the air. Rose thought his fingers tightened around the tickets, but that was the only outward sign that he’d heard her at all.

“James!”

Donna’s strident tone interrupted the moment. James’ head snapped around to the door between the kitchen and the front part of the shop. Then he looked back at Rose, and at the tickets in his hand.

“That’s…” He pushed his chair back. “I should…” He gestured to the door. “You know Donna.”

Then he whirled around and nearly ran from the room.

Rose stood frozen, staring at the open door between the backroom and the front of the coffee shop. Of all the possible reactions, she’d never imagined he would just run out of the room without even acknowledging that she’d just told him she had feelings for him.

She’d thought… two years of flirting, of teasing each other, of movie nights and long rambles through the park, of progressively longer hugs every time they said goodbye… Even though she’d been nervous, she hadn’t really thought he would reject her.

Guess I got him wrong.

Tears clogged Rose’s throat, but she swallowed them back. She’d already humiliated herself enough for one day—she could wait to cry until she got back to her flat.

She left her holiday drink sitting on the table and wrapped her arms around herself as she strode to the door. She was almost gone when Donna’s voice stopped her from walking out.

“You wrote an ode to her eyes!”

Rose couldn’t make out what James muttered in reply, but his voice went high-pitched and squeaky like it did when he was embarrassed. She turned away from the door and slowly inched back to her table.

James had written an ode to her eyes? A poem about her? Maybe Donna meant he’d written a poem for someone else, but given the immediate context, it certainly seemed likely that it had been for her.

She sat back down and waited for James to come back. Maybe she hadn’t gotten him wrong, after all.

oOoOo

James shuffled into the back room, his heart racing. Rose had asked him out? On a date? And she said she was falling for him? That was… He shook his head, hoping that would make it seem more real.

“Oh, what’s this then?” Donna asked, gesturing to the tickets he still had clutched in his hands.

He stared at them, then looked up at her. “Present. Gift. From Rose.”

Donna’s eyes lit up and a smirk curved the corners of her mouth. “From Rose, really? Well, maybe you have a chance with her after all. If you ever get around to asking her out, that is.”

James raked his trembling hands through his hair. “She already asked me out,” he said, and speaking the words out loud didn’t make it seem any more real. “That’s… the present, it’s tickets to this exhibition at the planetarium in January. I was telling her about it and she went and got tickets.”

Donna’s eyes widened. “Well, she seems to know what you like, at least.”

James shuffled his feet. Rose did know him, and it terrified him. No one had known him this well since his parents had died when he was just fifteen. Being alone was lonely, but it also meant no one had the power to hurt him.

He looked at the tickets, then towards the shop. Rose could hurt him, if he let her get any closer. The temptation to run was strong, but the pull towards her was even stronger.

“What on Earth is going on in that brain of yours now?” Donna’s voice pulled James out of his own thoughts.

He tapped the tickets against his fingers. “So… you think I ought to say yes, then?”

The back room fell deathly silent. Even the dishwasher chose that moment to stop at the end of a cycle.

“You. Have. Got. To be kidding me!!” Donna crossed the room and smacked him on the back side of the head.

James rubbed the sore spot and pouted up at her. “What was that for?”

“You have had a crush on her from the moment you laid eyes on her, and now that she’s taken enough leave of her senses to ask you out, you wonder if you should say yes?”

James scuffed his toe against the floor. “I do not have a crush on her!” he mumbled. He was head over heels in love with Rose Tyler—far more than a simple crush.

Donna crossed her arms over her chest and looked at James. “You wrote an ode to her eyes!” she shouted, and James’ gaze darted to the door. “‘They’re the colour of whiskey, and when I look into them I’m intoxicated.’ It doesn’t even rhyme, Space Boy.”

James’ fear that Rose would hear was momentarily forgotten, overridden by his wounded pride. He threw his hands up in the air. “It’s called blank verse! It’s an art!”

“Well speaking of art, there’s an artist waiting out there for you to accept her date—if she hasn’t decided you’re too much of an idiot and she doesn’t want to date you after all.”

James’ heart stopped. He hadn’t considered that Rose might not take his sudden departure well… that might actually feel like he was avoiding her after she’d taken the risk to ask him out.

He spun around and looked at the door, and a moment later, he felt hands on his back pushing him gently through it. “Go on, James,” Donna said, her voice soft now. “I promise you, it will be worth it.”

James stumbled over his own feet as he reentered the main part of the shop. His heart started working again when he saw Rose, still sitting at their table. She was facing the door, and he took a moment to grab her favourite chocolate muffin and put it on a plate before he swallowed hard and crossed the room to join her.

“I’m back,” he told her as he took his seat. “And I brought you something to apologise for running off on you just then.”

Rose turned around and smiled at him. “It’s all right, James. Donna asked for you.”

He shook his head slowly. “I didn’t run away from you because Donna called my name, Rose. That was just… convenient timing.”

Her face fell. “Oh.”

James kicked himself. “Oh, bollocks. I’m not saying this right.” He took a deep breath. “You’re not the only one who’s wondered what it would be like if we were more than friends. You’re just the only one brave enough to say anything about it.”

James thought he knew all of Rose Tyler’s smiles, but the shy one crossing her face right now was new. It looked particularly fetching with her pink cheeks, and he wondered if he could make her smile like that every day.

“Yeah?”

He blinked, trying to remember what she was replying to. As soon as he remembered, he reached out carefully for her hand, feeling giddy when she took it willingly. “Definitely,” he said firmly. “You heard Donna, didn’t you?”

Mischief sparkled in her eyes, and James felt positively giddy. “You mean the part about you writing poetry about my eyes?” She laced her fingers firmly with his. “I think I want to hear this blank verse of yours.”

James groaned. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Rose shook her head, and now her tongue peeked out from behind her smile. “Oh, I would have asked about it either way,” she assured him. “What exactly did you say about my eyes?”

James looked at Rose, then at their hands, linked together on the table. It looked just as natural as it felt, like they’d been made to hold each other.

He looked back at her face, and one eyebrow was arched over the eyes he loved so much. Oh, blimey. She actually wanted to hear his poem.

“I said…” Rose’s warm brown eyes returned his gaze steadily, and he impulsively skipped over the beginning of the poem to paraphrase the lines that felt most appropriate. “When I look into Rose’s eyes, I see love reflected back. The only question I have is this: am I seeing her heart, or mine?”

Tears trembled on Rose’s eyelashes, and James reached out to wipe them away. “It’s my heart, James,” she whispered. “My heart has always been in my eyes when I looked at you.”

James’ heart raced, but the urge to run had finally faded. Rose loved him. His heart was safe with her. “I love you, Rose Tyler.”

Her smile took his breath away. “I love you, too.”

[lexer-says-stuff]

1. My nickname is Jade online, my name irl is much different

2. Between 0 and 100 (hint: I'm not over 70)

3. 156 or 157 (I forgot)

4. 9:37 pm

5. English and Bahasa Indonesia are languages I can speak decently, and I know a few words and phrases in Japanese, Korean, French, Spanish, and Dutch

6. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

7. Singing, dancing, drawing, eating, listening to music, and dying inside

8. Minho

9. Minsung

10. Dwaekki (Ik it's not very original)

11. 2min, I can't really choose between them

12. Miroh

13. Tik Tok

14. Pavlova; It looks soft and fluffy at first, but once you bite it, it's all dry and hard

15. I can't choose lmao

16. Hyung line: Minho, maknae line: Hyunjin, Jisung

17. Iced lemon tea

18. Rose; beautiful and dangerous at the same time

19. Sentimental

20. Chamomile tea; calming and makes me feel happier

21. Night, because he can do everything but sleep

22. No

23. All of them, but Jeongin if I had to choose one

24. Pink; I usually associate pink with cuteness and wholesomeness

25. I listen to BTS, TXT, Enhypen, BLACKPINK, Twice, Mamamoo, Secret Number, plus many other groups. I also listen to video game songs (fanmade and OSTs), songs that are in The Music Freaks, J-pop, musical sound tracks, western pop music, and, on very rare occasions, pop music from my home country, Indonesia.

26. Why just one? Let's have both!

27. Brussel sprouts. And toxicity. And being labeled "the smart kid".

28. Ferret, because SKZOO

29. Yes

30. Homework, and yes it's been in my head non-stop (hehe Hamilton reference go brrr)

31. Playing Minecraft; that's something he would 100% do

32. Love; I love him so much and he has a YT channel now and he posts a lot of content there and his voice is just so soothing.

33. Neither, I only drink ~Sprite~

34. Probably A Wrinkle in Time or Tuck Everlasting

35. Just like in vocal line, I can't decide lmao

36. I didn't buy Mixtape bc I'm broke af :')

37. No and I'm too scared to get any

38. Cereal, if you put milk first don't question me if I look at you weirdly

39. I'd have to say Minho. His dancing is really fluid, and I just love the way he moves. Idk I'm not a professional.

40. The Amazing World of Gumball

41. Yes, I have a cat named Johnny Suh, but we all just call him Johnny

42. Hyung line, they need more appreciation imo so Imma show them my luv <3

43. Break the Silence; it was really touching for me, and I love how they showed their goofy side on it hehe

44. Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin; I just wanna play Minecraft with them lmao

45. Magic Shop, a Minsung fanfic by shinsoskittycst on Wattpad based off of the trailer by skzshii on YT, and also I Want You Back, a Yeonbin fanfic by lil_rachaaaaa, also on Wattpad

46. Depends on the content

47. Indonesia

48. Wait I thought we did this already- I think they're all cute, but if I had to choose one, I'd say Jeongin

49. I love Jisung's heart smile best :3, and I really like Minho's laugh in a way I can't really describe lmao

50. Chan: Chris (he has the same name as my dad lmao), Minho: Minnie, Lino, lEe KnOw (I usually use it ironically), Changbin: Beanie, Hyunjin: Drama Llama, Jisung: Squirrel or Quokka, Felix: Lixie (and sometimes Yongbok lmao), Seungmin: Idk I don't really have a nickname for him, Jeongin: Innie

That's all! And I don't really have any friends here so I can't tag anyone :')

Stray Kids tag/ask game!

Hi! Answer these 50 question (or don’t if you don’t want to)and then tag somebody if you want. Let’s find out a few things about Stray Kids fans! And maybe let’s find new friends. So, start: 1. Your nick (and name if it’s ok to you) 2. Your age 3. Your height 4. Time right now 5. Languages you know 6. Your favourite word 7. Your hobbies 8. Your bias in Stray Kids 9. Your OTP in SKI 10. Use one word to describe Changbin 11. With one of SKI members has murder tendencies? 12. Your favourite Stray Kids’ song 13. Your favourite 3RACHA’s song 14. Use food to describe Minho 15. In vocal line – whose voice is your favourite 16. Hyung line – pick up one of them, maknea line - pick 2 17. Your favourite drink 18. Use flower to describe Seungmin 19. Trot vs. Sentimental 20. Use tea to describe Jisung 21. Use time of a day to describe Chan 22. Do you wear glasses 23. Who is the cutest in SKI 24. Use colour to describe Jeongin 25. What do you listen to besides Stray Kids and 3RACHA 26. Stray Kids’ songs or 3RACHA’s songs? 27. What do you hate? 28. Use animal to describe Hyunjin 29. Is there something that you should be doing right now? 30. If you answered yes: what is it? And did you hear in your head Chan’s “Like, mate, stop procrastinating”? 31. Use activity to describe Felix 32. Use a thing to describe Woojin 33. Coca-cola or Pepsi 34. Favourite book 35. In rap line – whose voice is your favourite 36. If you bought Mixtape, whose card did you get? Are you happy with them? 37. Do you have any piercing or tattoos? 38. Cereals or milk first? 39. In dance line – whose moves do you like the most 40. Your favourite TV series? 41. Do you have a pet? 42. Hyung line or maknea line. Choose one. 43. Favourite movie 44. If you could spend a day with 3 SKI members (but not your bias!) who would you choose? 45. Your favourite fanfiction 46. Do you like spoilers? 47. Which country do you live? 48. The cutest person in Stray Kids. 49. Whose smile do you like best? And whose laugh? 50. Do you have any nicknames for SKI members? EXTRA. Is there anything you want to say to the person who tagged you? :D I don’t know any SKI stans here, so I will tag kind of random people. I hope it’s ok for you to be tagged by me. Also feel free to do this even if I didn’t tag you, I’ll be happy if you do it. Like, really happy mate. @minnoah22 @felixxtrash  @musicalval @incorrect-straykids @lindzaylove @straykidsimnida @chang-bean @bundlelovers

[tebbyclinic11]

Face Exercises Are A Thing Now, But I'm Not Doing ...

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Face Exercises Are A Thing Now, But I'm Not Doing ...

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Boutique fitness, like any other cult, requires a suspension of disbelief most often combined with exorbitant amounts of money. Still, like any other follower, I’m generally happy to do both. I recently signed up for a workout called “BRRR” that takes place in a cold room. My favorite song to hear at SoulCycle is an EDM remix of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” that is certainly ruining Kurt Cobain’s time in the afterlife. I wasn’t searching for my fitness breaking point, but I found it: You cannot make me exercise my face.

Facial exercises are the latest workout trend, galvanized by studios like FaceGym, soon to open at Saks Fifth Ave, FaceLove in NYC, or Skin Fit Gym in Los Angeles. The “exercises” are so named because they most resemble the awkward movements one might recognize from a physical therapists’ office or a particularly finicky barre class. Movements have instructions such as smile with no teeth, then purse the lips, then keep lips pursed, then smile again, then hold the smile for 20 seconds. The goal, of course, is to achieve long-calcified standards of physical perfection in the form of youthful, sag-free skin.

Does it look and sound ridiculous? Sure. But the research backs it up. A Northwestern University study found that 30 minutes of daily facial exercise, after 20 weeks, resulted in fuller cheeks and lifted brows for middle-aged women. The researchers evaluated their findings by asking dermatologists to rate the ages of each participant. By the end of the study, patients’ average age appearance dropped from 50.8 years to 48.1 years. So it took 20 weeks—five months, almost half of a year of their lives—for people who looked almost 51 to magically look like they had just turned 48.

Since these facial contortions provide a modest benefit at best, “they are not going to replace fillers, neuromodulators, or lasers for wrinkles,” says Dr. Murad Alam, the lead author on the study. “But it is possible that facial exercises may augment or improve the results of medical treatments for aging.” People with the time and money (ahem, Meghan Markle) to prioritize anti-aging practices may find that a move like Happy Cheeks Sculpting does indeed make the cheeks a bit more plump—especially if they’ve already been Botoxed or Restylaned. But for me, no plumpness is worth the horror of being asked to exercise yet another body part.

Facial exercises are at the intersection of two highly lucrative demographics. The natural beauty movement is on the rise, which means people may be more open to smiling themselves silly in the mirror. But even as we stray from injecting toxins into our faces, the forces at play still encourage women to look younger. The anti-aging market is now valued at 250 billion-dollars. It’s unsurprising that someone has found a way to target women looking to take responsibility for their God-given disappearing youth with $90 face yoga. Capitalism finds a way.

For those of us without the time and money to spend on facial exercise classes, I recommend their snotty, lazy cousin: The facial. These spa treatments typically involve a version of facial massage that can stimulate the muscles in a similar and, crucially, passive way. Celebrity esthetician Ildi Pekar also suggests taking a few extra moments to give yourself a facial massage when putting on skincare products. “Don’t just put eye cream on. Massage it in; tap it in,” Pekar says. “Any stimulation is better than nothing. It just gives you a more a glowy and dewier look.”

But unlike a facial or a quick self-massage while patting on your night cream, facial exercises seek to a role adjacent to ab work or tricep dips. That, for me, is where I draw the line. I will not do reps for my smile, even if they turn me from 51 to 48. I’ve earned these lines with decades of refusing to smile. Middle-aged me may have wrinkles, but at least she will have her $90.

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[brxkcnengineer]

biochemiist‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

biochemiist‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

As soon as she put the tablet in his hands, he realized that he did NOT think this through. He just barely managed to lift his hand up, trembling fingers tapping at the screen, his vision making it difficult to see the WORDS printed on the device.

“Are you okay?” the automated voice asked, and he turned his head a little, blue eyes searching her brown. “Are you hurt at all? Did we change the future?”

He focused as much as he could on the tablet again, managing to finish what he was typing up before he let the device drop to his lap. The words weren’t completely comprehensible, but the sentiment was there.

“HOUSE looks happy want now go,” the voice said aloud, and he gave her a tiny smile at that, reaching to take her hand in his own.

“Are you okay?”

Jemma smiled softly, nodding. “I’m okay. I’m not hurt. Well, my back hurts, but I have been pretty immobile since I got here, so I’m sure I just need a stretch.”

“Did we change the future?”

That was… a very good question. She’d been far too worried about her husband to even consider the actual outcome of the mission, leaving those details to her teammates. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I haven’t asked. Honestly, I’ve been a little one-track mind. But can you blame me?”

His next message, about the house, brought tears to her eyes. His hand found hers again and she squeezed it, tears rolling down her cheeks even as she smiled. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled, using her free hand to wipe her tears away. “I shouldn’t be crying. I’m just really glad that you like it. It’s been such a hard secret to keep.” He wanted to go, but it would be a while before they could. He needed to be stabilized and allowed out of his hospital bed, not to mention cleared to leave the base. “As soon as they let us, we’ll go. We’ll take a break, just you and me. Coulson’s already approved it.”

He frowned a little as he saw TEARS spring to her eyes. He was about to reach for the tablet again, to ask her what was wrong, but then she laughed softly, and wiped away her tears. He squeezed her hand again, just barely managing to move his head and nod at her words.

“W-wi… ill… wi-ill… luh… huh… ove… love a-an… any… wh-… air… where,” he started, though he struggled to even make the sounds, wincing every so often as he tried to SPEAK. “Wih… wit… ith… with… y-yuh… ooh… you.”

He squeezed her hand again, this time not in comfort, but in PAIN, his breaths coming in tiny gasps, feeling like someone had set his lungs on fire as he tried to BREATHE.

“Her… er… HURTS.”

Try as he might, Fitz would never convince her that he wasn’t a secret romantic.

Jemma squeezed his hand in response, shaking her head slowly. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. Sometimes you’re like a romance novel, you know that?”

The next time he squeezed her hand was different. There was an urgency behind it; a sense of helplessness, too. Jemma knew something was wrong before Fitz even said the words, reaching for the call button and pushing against it. “There has to be something they can give you,” she told him by way of explanation. If nothing else, maybe they could give him something to help him sleep. It was hard to be in pain when you were asleep, she reasoned.

As soon as he had squeezed her hand, she was reaching for the call button, and his fingers twitched again to say thank you, unable to get the words out to say it properly.

“Brrr,” he started, then gasped lightly in pain, his nose wrinkling as he scrunched up his face, eyes closing tightly. “Bur... ens... burns...” He let go of her hand for just a second, his palm hovering slightly over his chest to try and explain what he meant, already knowing that he would not have the strength to re-explain it all once the medic came in.

He held on a little tighter to her hand, wincing. Everything felt too much, too loud. The whirring of the ventilator, the quiet buzz of the lights above them, the rapid beeping on the heart monitor, it all felt like too much. His hand curled around her palm again, holding on desperately.

[therapardalis]

rollingmapcarrier‌:

-

** ~ Deserved it? The droid wouldn’t want to go as far as to say that.          Perhaps he just had to be able to see and take a joke when the moment        called for it. Then again, he wasn’t the best at judging such social clues..         being a droid and all. 

       “  Brr-wrriii-woo-breeep brro-borrr ! “

[I suppose you were just making a joke.]

        He jiggled about for a while, unsure of how to follow up at this.           Without any way of visually seeing it, it was still easy to tell he was a bit ashamed.

        “  Wrii-woo brrr-iii beeii-wooop ! “

[I handled that poorly, did I?]

Thera wrinkled her nose, bobbed her head a little with an undecided ‘hmmmm’ sound. “I wouldn’t say poorly, so much. More angry than I expected, but again, I was trying to push your button, I just chose the wrong one. I know how much you love Poe, I shouldn’t have joked about him.”

She was serious about that, and a little chagrined at her own lack of foresight - any crumb of good sense would have told her the droid’s master was out of joking bounds.

“You wanna just say ‘lesson learned’ for both of us and let it go?” A wry grin, partly to reassure BB-8 that there were no hard feelings from her side, at least. “I’ll find something else to kid you about later on.”