#it’s funny how mom gets to complain every ten minutes about her sister putting us in this position but yelled at me for complaining about

[ojoboy]

han seungwoo babyfever au

genre: han seungwoo x reader, fluff, domestic bliss

word count: 4k

plot: Your cousin asks you to babysit his children (14 y.o. Dongpyo & 13 months old baby sister Dohye) to celebrate the anniversary with his wife. Your boyfriend volunteeringly helps you out. Oh oh looks like you two are about to catch baby fever.

a/n: I finally decided to watch Broduce during quarantine although I already knew the outcome because I was too moved by some videos of Yunseong and Jinhyuk :( Anyways when Seungwoo said that if he had a son he’d like him to be like Dongpyo, I was like: say no more! (I hope you don’t mind that I made Dongpyo younger for this)

from: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:17pm]

wanna do something later? i miss u :(

to: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:19pm]

it’s been only two days... but i miss u too :(

and i don’t know if i have time today. i’m babysitting Jaesung’s children tonight because they are celebrating their anniversary and might come back late  

from: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:19pm]

i could come by and help you out?

i’m meeting seungsik now but i definitely can come right afterwards!

to: capt. seungwoo <3 [3:20pm]

yeeess, i’d love that!

—

5:07pm. The streets are filled with cars rushing home and it almost looks like they are following the sun, eager to come home and finally rest. You just finished stowing away things in your small apartment that could be possibly dangerous around babies, now lazily scrolling through your Instagram feed and liking every other post. Then the doorbell finally rang and you rushed to the door to buzz them in. Almost a minute later there was a family of four standing in your living room.  

“Sorry for being late,” your cousin said as he carefully put his bag down, “traffic, you know.” “It’s fine,” you replied and crouched down and shook little Dohye’s hands, beaming at the baby in the stroller. “Well, someone’s in a good mood today, aren’t you little sunshine?” Whether she did understand you or not, the little girl simply responded with a cheerful giggle that could melt anyone’s heart.  

“She’s been energetic all day long. I hope she won’t give you a hard time,” her mother told you while undoing the buckles and taking the small child in her arms. Dongpyo was already sitting down on the couch next to the big black bag, seemingly busy on his phone.

“Everything you need for Dohye is in the bag. Diapers, baby food and even some toys to keep her entertained.” Your attention diverted back to your cousin who was going through the bag to check all items. “All right, thank you.”  

After checking the final things with you, Hyejin took your hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yes, thank you. You are the best!” Your cousin engulfed you in a hug and then walked over to his children. “Behave well and help Y/N out, okay?” he playfully ruffled Dongpyo’s hair and bent down to kiss the little girl on his lap, followed by his wife showering the two with affection. A little annoyed like most teenagers in puberty the young boy told his parents off.

Halfway through the door Hyejin turned around to say, “Call us if there are any problems!”

“Don’t worry, Seungwoo is also coming. I’m sure we’ll manage,” you reassured them while ushering them out, “Just enjoy your anniversary!” "Oh, say hello from us then, yeah?” Jaesung waved one last time before the door closed.

“Finally!” the fourteen years-old exclaimed, making you chuckle. Seeing how his sister started squirming in his lap and hitting his face, you offered to take her while Dongpyo dutifully laid out her blanket on your floor and set up a few toys. “So, your boyfriend is also coming?”

“Yup, I think you’ve only met him once. Remember when we picked you up from dance practice because your mom was in labor? He drove us to the hospital.”

“Oh yeah, but isn’t he too cool for you?”

“Hey, wouldn’t be the other way around?” You played along. “Dohye agrees with me.”

“Nah, he really looked cool driving with one hand and calming you down while you were nervous as a cat.”  

Just when you were about to retort the doorbell rang again as if your boyfriend knew you were talking about him. “Dongpyo can you get that, please?” Without further ado the boy got up from the comfy spot and buzzes Seungwoo in. A few moments later he enters, dressed in black ripped jeans and a white tee which was mainly covered by the purple The Rolling Stones hoodie (you got it for him as a birthday present and he claimed it was his favorite piece of clothing ever since).

“Hey guys, I brought some cake!” Seungwoo proudly lifts the white bag with his usual endearing smile. He fist-bumped Dongpyo and walked over to press a chaste kiss on your cheek before he set the cake down on the kitchen counter.

“You should marry him,” Dongpyo’s ogling eyes followed your boyfriend first, then his body. Eager to have some cake, his hands were already reaching out for the white bag when you stopped him. “Dongpyo stop. Let's save the cake for dessert, alright?”

With a pout, the boy looks up at the older guy in hope of him being able to convince you otherwise but the latter apologetically shook his head, “Sorry pal, you heard the boss.” He then proceeded to carefully stored the cake in your refrigerator as Dongpyo dramatically put his head between his hands.  

—

About half an hour into the babysitting you were sitting down on your floor, watching Dohye grabbing colorful wooden bricks and stacking them on top of each other. Sometimes she would even chuck them in your direction as if to tell you that you should do the same.

Meanwhile the two boys sat comfortably on the couch as Dongpyo showed some of his dance covers on his phone but also a few viral video clips he saw on social media, both unable to hold back their laughter. By now they have become close mentally - as well as physically. They were leaning onto each other, leaving no space between them, and Seungwoo had one of his arms draped over the boy’s narrow shoulders. It was a position you were very familiar with.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen this video of a ferret dancing? It’s soooo cute,” Dongpyo leaned down from the couch to show you his phone screen whereas Seungwoo held onto his shirt so he wouldn’t fall down. Mimicking the ferret’s movements with Dohye’s rattle in your hand, you answered, “Yes, I replayed it so, so many times and even sent it to Seungwoo.”

Enticed by the rattle, the little baby dropped the blue brick and started crawling towards you. With open arms you welcome the girl as she climbed in your lap, willingly handing the rattle over. Immediately Dohye aggressively shook the toy and filled the room not only with rhythmic rattling but also joyous laughter.  

Feeling your lower back starting to hurt from sitting on the ground, you scooted over to lean against the couch with Dohye safely pulled against your front. “Wow, this is funny haha!”  

When you craned your neck to see what Dongypo was laughing about, you realized that Seungwoo’s eyes had been set on you. It seemed like he was in a daze, the way he smiled so fondly at the sight of you holding and playing with the baby.  

The image of you and him having a baby of your own crossed his mind ever since he walked through the door today and saw you two together and truth to be told he liked it - a lot.

His hand then slowly reached out for your head and gently stroked your hair, careful not to get any strands tangled with his rings. Enjoying the calming feeling, you returned his sweet gesture with a genuine smile that made his heart flutter like the first time he met you.

This intimate moment didn’t last long, though, as Dohye suddenly began to cry. “Oh no, what’s wrong, Dohye?” You picked her tiny body up and smelled her diaper. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you need your diaper changed.”

“I bet she’s hungry, Y/N” Dongpyo said as he put his phone down. “Can you get the baby food from bag, please?” You slowly got up from your place and rocked the girl back and forth in hope of calming her down. “Shh, don’t cry. Your big brother is getting your food right.”

“I got it! It says that it needs to be heated up in the microwave for a minute to a minute and a half,” the boy read the instructions and walked over to your kitchen. However, he struggled to open the glass so Seungwoo offered to help him, “Here, let me.”

He then opened the little glass on his first try and proceeded to put it in your microwave as he already knew his way around your kitchen. “Oh, I think this might be a little too hot?” Seungwoo worried after taking the glass out and rolling it between his hands.  

“Let’s stir the heat out and wait a little then... Dongpyo, is there perhaps a baby bib in the bag too?”

All of you made your way back into the living room, you sitting down on the couch with a still crying baby and joined by Seungwoo while Dongpyo looked for the baby bib. Tying it around her neck turned out to be a bit harder than expected since she started to squirm around.

After finally succeeding, you decided to switch with Seungwoo so you could feed the little girl. You carefully blew on the small spoon as Dohye watched you with big eyes and drool coating her mouth already. Ten minutes later the glass is empty and a big content smile grazed the girl’s lips.

“Wow, you eat really well, huh?” You wiped her mouth with the bib and booped her little nose. “You come after your dad, I guess.”

—

“Are you sure you don’t need me to help you cook?”  

“I’ll manage. Just watch the kids, honey” You couldn’t help but giggle at your own cheesy words and squeezed his muscular arm before sending him back into the living room. As soon as you calmed Dohye down, the next kid started to complain about being hungry. This whole situation made you feel like it was your little family.  

Before you could indulge further into your imagination, you diverted your attention to the ingredients in front of you to cook pasta. While the noodles were boiling, you were busy cutting onions and carrots for the sauce when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle. Shortly after his head hovered next to yours, “Looks good, babe.”

“There is nothing to see yet,” you playfully nudged him, yet he pulled you closer against his body. “Wasn’t talking about the food,” Seungwoo then cheekily pressed his lips against the side of your face and proceeded to steal a few slices of carrots, running back before you could stop him.

Looking over your shoulder you saw that he was sharing the stolen goods with none other than Dongpyo, both a giggling mess. In your eyes the two were like a real father-son duo and you began to wonder what it would be like if you two were to start a family. A blush bloomed on your cheeks, yet you pushed the thought back to focus on cooking again.

As soon as you served the pasta, Dongpyo came rushing and very eager to dig in. You left the TV on and put on a children’s show to entertain Dohye while the rest of you enjoyed dinner.  

“I’m so fuuuuull! Thank you for the meal, Y/N,” Dongpyo said as he lazily rubbed his tummy and closed his eyes for moment. “Too full for the cake, though?” Seungwoo asked the boy across him, raising his eyebrow. At his words, Dongpyo’s eyes opened with a twinkle in them, “Never!”

While you put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Seungwoo was already taking out new plates and of course: the long-anticipated cake. “I hope you like cherries, Dongpyo,” your boyfriend presented three chunky pieces of cake covered in pink and white frosting with little cherries on top. “Voila, the cake is really delicious. I tried one piece with Seungsik today,” he winked at you and forked a bite-sized piece, raising it to your mouth.  

You welcomed the sweet taste as the frosting melted on your tongue, humming in agreement. Just when the three of you sat down on the couch again, the baby started crawling towards your boyfriend and grabbed his sturdy leg to pull herself up, her eyes set on the pink and white delicacy. Seungwoo quickly put his plate on the coffee table and picked the girl easily up.

“Aigoo, do you want some?” You two only laughed when she stretched her short arms towards your plate and almost lunged at it, only to be held back by your co-babysitter. You scooped a small amount of the frosting on your pinky and placed it against her plump limps which she gladly took.  

“Oh Y/N, be careful of her-”

“Ouch!”

Dongpyo’s warning came a little too late as you massaged your poor finger, while Dohye somehow managed to giggle innocently yet diabolically at the same time (in that moment she reminded you a lot of her brother).

—

“Do you want to see my new dance routine?”  

“Weren’t you too full to move just now?” You questioned the young boy.  

“It’s all good now. I don’t think I will throw up.”

“Well, that’s very reassuring.”

Soon your small living room turned into a stage as Dongpyo prepared several dance covers of girl groups. His little sister started to jump up and down on the couch, with Seungwoo holding her arms, to cheer him on. He even managed to persuade Seungwoo to join him who acted hesitant at first but matched the teenager’s energy once he got up.

You and Dohye clapped as soon as the little showcase ended. The two guys plumped down on the couch, slightly out of breath. Seungwoo wasted no time to strip himself off his purple hoodie, leaving him in his loose white tee. The tattoos adorning his milky skin caught the younger one’s attention, “Wow Seungwoo, you have tattoos? Y/N, your boyfriend is soooo cool!”

He then put his index finger under his chin, “I think I’m getting tattoos, too, when I’m older. They look so cool on you.” At this you two couldn’t stifle your laughter, earning a confused look from Dongpyo. But who could blame you? It was very hard to imagine such a sweet, baby-faced boy to get tattoos inked on his skin.  

“Sure thing, buddy,” Seungwoo ruffled the boy’s hair, unable to hold back his smile.

“Oh, but it hurts a lot, right? Maybe I won’t get any after all...” Dongpyo leaned back against the couch, hugging the cushion tighter.

—

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you took care of the mess in your kitchen but when you returned to your living room, you discovered a sleeping baby lying on top of your boyfriend’s chest. Your heart melted at this sight and the corners of your mouth immediately tugged upwards. Wanting to capture the sweet moment, you took your phone out and wasted no time to get a few shots of the two, careful not to disturb them.

Just when you crouched down next to the couch to get an up-close shot, your knee joints betrayed you. The pop seemingly woke up your boyfriend from his slumber as his eyes slowly opened and you were met with warm, brown orbs.  

Catching you red-handed, Seungwoo cracked a smile and whispered, “What are you doing, babe?”  

“You two look so adorable, I just couldn’t resist!” You smiled sheepishly and began to stroke his hair with your free hand, pushing a few strands away from his eyes.

“Mh, as much as I’m enjoying this, I think my back might kill me soon,” he softly spoke with his eyes closed again, welcoming your gentle touch. “C’mon, let’s put her in my bed.”

Seungwoo clutched the little girl closer to his chest and slowly got up without making any noise. He pushed her a little upwards so she could rest her head on his shoulder. You walked ahead, opening the two doors for him, and pulled the blanket aside to let him put Dohye down. Then you tucked her safely in and placing your stuffed bunny, which Seungwoo had won for on your first arcade date, next to her.  

The two of you sneaked out of your bedroom, leaving the door ajar just in case she woke up. Now standing in the small hallway, Seungwoo wrapped his arms around you from behind, putting just a little bit of his weight on you. “My back still hurts from your small couch; you should carry me like this,” you could basically hear his pout above your head.

“Shut up, my couch is not that small. It’s just because you are stupidly tall!” You hushed him as you wriggled in his arms to turn around and playfully pinched his cheeks. There was a shift in his eyes; usually he would retort that you were ‘stupidly small’ but this time he just gazed at you, eyes filled with adoration.

With your chests pressing against each other, you were not quite sure whether it was your heart that was racing or his. Maybe it was both of yours but it didn’t matter, anyways.  

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in a small voice, your index finger now tracing his dimple instead.

“I was just wondering, what it would be like if we had a baby,” Seungwoo confessed and smiled innocently at you. Heart skipping a beat, you were slightly flustered by his unexpected answer and felt your ears heat up.  

“You would be a great dad.” Before he could react, you got on your tiptoes and simultaneously pulled his face a little bit down to meet him with a brief, yet sweet peck on the lips.  

Once you released his face and let your hands slide down to the juncture between his shoulders and neck, you felt his arms tighten around your body and tugging you even closer to him. Being not satisfied with the peck, he leaned in for another kiss.

His warm lips melted against yours and you felt the butterflies erupt in your stomach like it was the very first time. As your lips moved against his, you could feel him smiling into the kiss. There was still a faint taste of cherries lingering on his lips adding to the sweet and addictive kiss. For a moment you forgot about everything because being in his arms just felt right.

“Wow, it’s like my parents never left,” a sudden voice exclaimed from behind you. The two of you shyly pulled away from each other and looked at the intruder. “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

With that being said, Dongpyo quickly disappeared into your bathroom. You were slightly embarrassed by getting caught but to make you blush even more, Seungwoo then said, “I want to have a kid like him later, haha.”

—

Their parents came back around 9pm. Dohye was still fast asleep in your bedroom, by now cuddling with your stuffed bunny, while the three of you watched an episode of Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bokjoo.

“You guys came back early! How was your dinner?”, you asked them as you let the couple in. “Oh, it was wonderful and the food was really delicious. You two should check out the restaurant sometime,” Hyejin gushed. “Anyways, we called it a night early because I missed my babies too much.”

She wasted no time to pull her son into her side and ruffle his fluffy hair, eliciting a soft whine from him.  

“Ah, I almost forgot! We’ve got you a little gift,” the woman nudged her husband who pulled out a small white box from his paper bag. “It’s from our favorite chocolatier. But it’s only a small gift so whenever you have time, come over and we will make you a nice meal to thank you properly, yeah?”

“Alright, let’s go home now. I think we’ve bothered you enough for tonight,” your cousin chimed after putting his little girl in her carrier and giving the two of you a hug.

Once you closed the door behind them, Seungwoo pulled you into his arms again. Just before he could say anything, a yawn escaped his mouth.

“Are you tired?”

“Mhm, just a little bit.”

He rested his forehead against yours, eyes lovingly gazing into yours again like earlier.

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

Seungwoo rummaged through your closet, looking for a comfortable shirt amidst all the t-shirts that you’ve either got or stole from him. Finally, his eyes set on a grey oversized tee which you actually could wear as a dress. Stripping off his slightly sweaty shirt, he welcomed the new soft fabric that no longer smelled like his cologne but by now had picked up your sweet scent.

When he joined you in the bathroom, you were already brushing your teeth whilst scrolling through your Instagram feed. He made his way behind you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror because the pink shirt that he’s been missing for the past week just happened to be engulfing you in that moment. But how could be upset when you looked like an angel to him?

Before you could grab your hair yourself, Seungwoo gently pushed them back and held them for you so they wouldn’t get in your way until you were finished with your routine. Once he started with his routine, you sat down on the edge of your bathtub. Waiting for him, you went through your gallery and took a look at the photos from earlier again.

“What’chu shmiling at?” He asked you with a mouth full of foam, watching through the mirror.

“Just the pics of you and Dohye sleeping together. They are really cute, I think I’m gonna post one of them!” You excitedly stood up and stayed by his side, holding your phone in front of him whilst swiping and showing him your favorite snapshots.  

After he was done with his own routine, the two of you wasted no time to snuggle up in the comfort of your bed. Like every other night you rested your head on his shoulder with his arms secured round your frame as if you could easily slip away anytime. A pleasant silence fell over you, only your shallow breaths were audible.

Your eyes were fixated on a sliver of light that shone through your blinds, unable to close your eyes and succumb to the sweet promise of sleep yet. The image of Seungwoo and the kids wouldn’t leave you alone. Sure, you’ve seen him plenty times playing with his own nephew already but today felt different.

“I was just wondering, what it would be like if we had a baby.”

His words kept repeating and repeating themselves in your head.

“What’s on your mind?” Seungwoo spoke so softly, it was barely a whisper. He started gently stroke your hair as he slightly turned his head towards you, his lips now almost brushing your temple.

“Just thinking about what you said earlier...” You tilted your head, meeting his eyes in the dark. “You know, what it’d be like if we had a baby, and I can’t stop thinking about it – but in a good way!”  

If you had looked a little bit closer, you would have seen that his gaze softened even more at you rambling about how he would spoil the baby to death or you two dressing up your child like a model, making it the most fashionable baby out there.

“The thought of a baby really doesn’t scare me anymore. Especially when I have you by my side,” you confessed. Instead of teasing you for corny confession, he pushed his body off the bed and hovered above you, his head already diving in to claim your lips.

Seungwoo didn’t say a word during your ramble but he put all his feelings into the kiss and you knew – he didn’t need to say it aloud because you knew he felt the same. His right hand caressed your face, thumb going over the apple of your cheek.

“I really like the sound of that,” his lips stretched into a smile before the landed right on your temple.  

Suddenly his smile turned smug, “We could try making one right now.”

“Oh, shut up!”

—

The next morning you checked your notifications only to find yourself chuckling at them.

ssunhwa: oh I didn’t know I was an aunt already

pyopyoson: huh is that black mob of hair mine? anyways, I want pics with him too

seungsmile_: just get married already

[calypsoff2]

Seventeen. Part 2

My smile grew, I spend every waking morning with my girls and night too. It’s been a while since I have experienced this with all three, they sleep in the bed with me, all three, well. We decided that I sleep in the middle, I don’t know how that came about but it’s been hard because I get into bed later than them, having to squeeze in the middle but I wanted to make sure Imani is away from them two too because of her arm, they may push her while they sleep so I just put that barrier between them. I honestly think my girls enjoy Paris; they love it here. They love their tutor, she keeps teaching them French, but they enjoy it, just to see them ever so happy when I come back from meetings. I think it’s actually a good thing, besides when Rylee had a breakdown on the first day here, when I left to go she cried so much thinking she was coming to work with me, I never said that shit. She will be coming with me today for the event, all three of my beautiful girls will be. Sometimes I feel it’s surreal, it’s surreal that I am a mother of three, I sometimes think how the fuck did that happen. I have three kids, I may have had five, but I got these beautiful babies and I adore them, I love being a mom. My daughters are coming with me to this event more to do with the Fenty Kidz line, they will be the face of it. And the company in general want to meet them but it’s informal, they won’t really notice it’s actually something bigger for them, but I am excited for their future, they have a really bright one. But when LMVH found out my daughters were here with me, they said bring them we want to meet them and I wasn’t so sure but knowing the fact it’s going to be informal for them, they won’t notice it. I will be keeping them close though, I don’t trust people that easily because we went out last night, leaving the hotel was bad. The fans were reaching out, they were grabbing my kids too and I was so angry getting into the car, Jah helped us a lot, but they are really bad overseas paparazzi and I dislike that they really be in my babies faces for no reason too. I am just tired from last night too, I be working and trying to be a mother which is busy for me.

I huffed out as I sat down on the couch, my team all look just as tired as me and I don’t blame them. It’s a busy schedule being here “is your husband ok?” Jah asked, looking up at him “why ask?” I questioned, not like Jah to ask about Chris when all Chris does is be an ass to him, in a funny way of course “I heard that his parents’ home got broken into? It’s rather sickening that someone would do that, so I was asking” I paused just frowning at him, how the hell he know this “how do you know?” I asked, I mean I know I didn’t say anything to these about the break in “no need boo, TMZ said it all and they already got the people” I gasped “what!? I mean how long did I sleep for!? What the fuck” I am shook “literally just saw it now, it just happened now actually. They caught the people, they were selling your pictures and a car, there pictures of you and the girls” I gasped “wait a minute” I said confused on what I just heard “yes boo?” Jah said a little confused “picture of me and my kids!?” I spat, I didn’t know that part but then again I haven’t spoke to Chris at all but the time difference is a bitch so I will have to work that out “according to TMZ, they caught the guys because they were trying to sell the picture of you and the kids, on eBay that is and boasting on Twitter about it. The pictures are the photoshoot ones, the ones you don’t show the world” I groaned out “I am sick of people, I wish they left my family alone, but we need to proceed. The girls need to get ready, I was thinking let’s plait their hair” Yusuf gasped “oh we going to be busy today, so we going to have the babies all the same including you?” nodding my head “yes but I am excited for today. My babies first red carpet, it’s going to be big for them” Tina cooed out.

“I am not sure though, I feel like I am putting them in the spotlight, I talk about not wanting my kids in the spotlight but here I am. I know there is going to be big designers there, there is going to be people that are going to take interest but it’s for Fenty Kidz, it isn’t for them, but I feel it’s going to open doors for them” so many decisions “they are beautiful girls Robyn so honestly I get why they are going to take interest and I feel like Fenty Kidz is going to be a hit, just like every other line this will too. Imagine Fenty and Fenty Kidz, parents matching with their kids” nodding my head “you got a point but yeah, we shall see. I wish Chris was here, but I was proving a point a point” rolling my eyes “what point is that?” Tina asked “that I can take my girls with me, that I don’t need them. I have backlash from my mom saying that I leave my kids and I am just not being active enough in their life so here I am proving a point, and at the end of it. Chris is finding it hard; he didn’t actually want me to go at all, but he was the same man that was complaining too but he apologised anyways, he was just missing me. But here we are, erm why are you here?” I said to Imani “I don’t’ want to do that anymore” she mumbled, she looks grumpy “you’re supposed to be learning Imani” I think she is unhappy about the cast; she walked into me and placed her head on my lap, my poor baby girl “it’s ok, you can stay here” she clearly doesn’t want to learn anymore.

Imani and this mood of hers, she was refusing to let Yusuf do her hair so she is sat on my lap and now is allowing him to do it “mommy it done” she pointed at her tablet, I didn’t even notice that. Holding the tablet up “well let’s put this episode on” her and paw patrol, she will never not watch this “there you go” side eyeing Yusuf, he was about to burn my arm “girl, you know how hard it is when diva doesn’t want to listen. Don’t’ give me that face boo” he has a point but still, he nearly burnt me there, Imani whined out “Imani, not long left. Don’t do that, Yusuf is being kind to you” Tianna is rushing over with the phone in hand “yes baby” looking at her “Jah locked the phone mom, I can’t get in” who the hell is this phone “who’s is it?” I questioned “Tina” this girl “give it back to her, Jah locked it because it’s not yours now go” they will do anything to get onto social media “kids” Yusuf said “I know, they get above themselves. The other two that is, they are sly with things too. I hate when Rylee tries to be a smart ass and Tianna, she can do it too. Like they want to be grown” this shit actually stresses me out “I can tell it upsets you” nodding my head “it does” I mumbled, my daughters are growing “I am not ready for that teenage phase yet, my god. Rylee is right Yusuf, in ten years she will be eighteen, I am going to cry” I chuckled “I better be doing her hair too girl” I snorted laughing “you will, don’t worry boo” it’s scary.

Fixing my Burberry cap “you look like you are ready for business” Jah said, I think I got my business hat on now. I am business mommy mode, I am ready to get down to business. I can’t do business when I have a clingy child, Imani will not let me go at all “I want to take this mommy” nodding my head just hearing her “let’s go and see your sisters now” walking off “mommy” hearing Imani say behind me, near in tears behind me “Imani I am here, don’t worry” Tianna and Rylee are both ready “mommy you look so pretty” Rylee said to me “aww thank you princess and look at us all matching” we are wearing a black minidress with Burberry trench coat and cap. My mini me’s, I swear my whole heart is just glowing right now seeing all three of my girls just dressed like me, I mean besides the heels and their dresses being longer than mine we are all the same “mommy we the same” Tianna smiled so wide “we are baby, come on. We need to take a picture for daddy, I promised we would. We can make him happy” shuffling over to the balcony “come on Dennis, got those photography skills going” I have missed just doing this, being in Paris actually but I’ve enjoyed having my girls here, they are so cute. Turning around as I shuffled down the arm of the trench coat, turning to my side. Dennis is crouched down already taking pictures, I had to double take “erm, girls” I said looking at them, they are posing like thugs “you are posing like your dad, come here. We need to send dad nice pictures” these girls are doing gang signs, what on earth “you know I haven’t been spending time with them” I said laughing.

I sent the pictures to Chris so I hope he likes them, I think he will be awake or maybe he will be asleep, but he hasn’t called me yet, but we are leaving now for the event “girls” I said, specifically to Rylee and Tianna, they both ran out of the elevator “you two, your mother said” Jah said with his serious face “you’re bald” I heard Rylee say, stepping off the elevator “Rylee Brown! You apologise now, you be kind to him. He is older than you, you give respect” letting Imani’ hand go to get my phone from the bag “Chris” I answered “you all look so nice! I am jealous” I chuckled “aww thank you, I wanted too” I dragged out “we need to be careful there is so many fans out there, we have the police out there too” I groaned out “Chris, I will call you back when I get in the car, just wait for my call please. I want to speak to you” he let out an oh “ok, will wait” disconnecting the call “right, Rich. Can you pick up Imani for me” Imani whined out “no mommy, I go with you” placing my phone in the bag “I am coming, let Rich hold you. I will be right behind you. You two hold my hand, you stay close! All of you, it’s very busy out there” I said, my girls are too hyper. Rich picked up Imani which she didn’t want to be picked but she has no choice in that. Rylee and Tianna both held my hand, Frank and some officers came up besides me “let’s go queens!” I said as I walked off with my daughters, I can literally hear the fans outside and I think because they can see us. Imani is looking at me, she is being so clingy with me now. The door opened and the crowd went wild, the fans went crazy when they saw us, I just stepped out with the kids and I felt like they were going to break free from the barriers, my daughters weren’t scared at all. I think they are so used to the fans being this way now, they are used to the fame.

Imani is sat on my lap; she is ready to fall asleep and we haven’t even left for the red carpet yet. Pressing the phone to my ear waiting for Chris to pick up “twin” he answered finally “baby, I miss you” I said straight away “I miss you too, I miss you and the kids like crazy. I think I feel it even more now because the girls aren’t here but you all good right?” he is missing me; I can tell in the tone of his voice “I am good but are you? I heard that they took picture of us Chris, what the hell?” I didn’t even know that “yeah, I am pissed off. I bid on the shit too, I want it back. That shit is private to us, I don’t like it but they got caught. The guys aren’t talking, they aren’t saying who they are working for and why, just look like some bum ass niggas. Fucked up but I am leaving VA, shit is too hot up here Robyn. I just feel unsafe, even with Pat. Niggas don’t like me, they are jealous, but I am leaving to go to New York, sort the home out for us. My family are stubborn, also my dad made a sly remark about me. He said I am here with aa bodyguard I have changed, with that alone I don’t want to do shit for them but yeah, I am leaving but I want you to have a good time. Y’all look so good, my girls look beautiful. I can’t believe you’re a mother of three, you look amazing” I cooed out, I know he means that “thank you, but Chris. Listen to me, we will talk about this tonight my time. Because it’s not on with what your dad said but I will send you pictures of the girls” he is sad, I don’t like it “thanks, I will let you go love you” my poor baby.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Quarantine

When Chris’s honeymoon gets cancelled and Scott ends up getting quarantined with them to avoid New York, their lives turn to absolute chaos. This ended up being SO long!

-

           “Can I, uh…?” Chris cocked his head at the door to their home office, where his wife of a full week was sitting at her desk. She nodded, turning off her microphone and getting up. She didn’t even know why they wanted her sitting in on that meeting.

           “Yeah?” She asked as she joined him at the door. He smelled like the shaving cream he had just used in his shower.

           “So, uh, Scott’s boyfriend might or might not be sick,” Chris started, eyes squinting like he was waiting for a blow. “And he can’t be around the kids, or Mom and Dad until he tests, so can we…?” She knew what he was asking before he even finished.

           “Yes, he can stay here,” she sighed. “But no funny business, okay? I still have to work until I finish this project.” Chris grinned like a little kid whose parents said he can keep the stray dog.

           “Thank you, I love you, and he’ll be here in two hours.”

           “New York is three and a half hours away,” she reminded him, tilting her head.

           “I know. I told him he could come an hour and a half ago.”

           “Christopher!” She chided as he chuckled. “You have to make dinner tonight, then, because I’m not doing it.”

           “Fine,” he agreed. “If you feed the dogs.” She rolled her eyes and went back to work. The next time she even looked up and out the window was when Scott’s car pulled up in the driveway and he began taking a suspicious amount of luggage from it. Chris ran to the front door, guarding Dodger and their puppy, Rex, from getting out. She stood up, ready to greet Scott from six feet away.

-

           “No, no, no, you have to read the definition!” Scott exclaimed to his brother, holding his cards against humanity game in his hands. “It’s in the rules!”

           “Because you go by all the rules!” Chris taunted back, shaking his head. “I’m not reading the definition of fuckin’ Bukkake in front of my wife.”

           “You gotta!” Chris rolled his eyes but took his phone out of his pocket anyway, his face turning as red as a tomato as he read.

           “A relatively common prono fetish that includes one sperm recipient, usually of the female variety, and at least 3 or more sperm donors,” Chris read, slapping his phone down on the wooden table. “There! Happy?”

           “Oh, very,” Scott grinned like a mad man, so much so that it made Chris get up and whack the back of his head. She realized what was happening and held her arms out.

           “Nope!” She said. “No fighting. Scott’s card is the winner, and…”

           “Ha!” Scott yelled. “I won!”

           “AND he has to go walk the dogs before they poop all over the house as punishment for making Chris read an embarrassing definition out loud when it isn’t even in the rules!” She finished, putting all of her cards down. Both boys exclaimed in disgust, but they stopped arguing. Scott stood up, and so did Rex, who was sitting under the table waiting for scraps that would never come.

           “Maybe I should’ve gotten sick,” Scott groaned as he walked over to where they kept the leashes. Chris’s earlier disgust turned to laughter as he watched his brother gather the plastic bags they kept for a very specific purpose. Within a minute, Scott had both dogs leashed and was walking out of the door, while Chris cleaned up the six pack and two extras they’d had and she picked up the box of cards Scott had brought along.

           “I can not believe you let him win!” Chris said as he poured the last few drops of a beer bottle down the sink drain. She smirk. “You literally married me last week!”

           “And if it weren’t for Coronavirus, we would be swimming with pigs in the Bahamas! And drinking for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! And it would be socially appropriate!” Chris chuckled.

           “It’s better to be stuck here than there, you know that.” He knew she was disappointed, and not just because she hadn’t moved her boarding pass from the dining room table. “But I was not about to have you getting sick and die of fuckin’ Coronavirus right after I marry you.”

           “But pigs on a white sand beach, Christopher. Pigs.” He put the last of the bottles in the trash and slid it closed, then walked over to where she was standing sorting cards. He grabbed her from the back, hugging her tightly to him, and kissed the exposed skin on her shoulder.

           “I’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling her hair aside to kiss her again. She cringed at the feeling. “Give me about ten minutes.”

           “Your beard tickles.”

           “Get used to it. It’s a quarantine beard and it’s happening.” She giggled.

           “How long do you think this’ll last?” He shrugged.

           “I don’t know, but I can guarantee we’ll get stir crazy within a week.” She took in a deep breath.

           “It better not last long because I’m going to need, just, like, an hour at some point.” Chris chuckled again, hugging her tighter.

“I’ll finish up here. You worked hard today. You should sleep.”

           “And that’s why I love you,” she replied. “It takes minimal to no effort to get you to do things for me.” Chris scoffed, but watched her disappear up the set of stairs to their bathroom to take off the makeup she had been forced to put on for a meeting.

-

           “Please tell me why you thought this was a good idea,” she groaned as she pushed the heavy couch toward Chris, who was standing on top of the dining room table, as she and Scott moved every single item of furniture around until it was in the same place it had been for the past six months.

           “Because I thought the couch would look better exchanged with the loveseat and then the loveseat with the old armchair and the picture of the creepy sea captain with the sea shell thing you have?” Chris suggested. She just glared at him.

           “Chris, we’ve been here for two hours.”

           “You didn’t even let me have a water break!” Scott complained as he flopped down on the couch. Chris got down from the table, arms crossed against his chest.

           “Well, what if we switched the piano with the sideboard? Then it would be easier to find the leashes and-”

           “I,” she started to reply, “am not moving anything else in this house.” She sat down on the loveseat, putting her feet up on the coffee table. Chris leaned down to the floor to pet Dodger.

           “At least my dog loves me,” Chris said.

           “Dodger, come here!” Scott interrupted. The dog perked up his ears and left Chris’s lap for his brother, curling up against him immediately.

           “We’re not talking to you until you make us quarantine grilled cheeses,” she said to Chris as he stood up.

           “We’re going to run out of bread.”

           “Not if I go get the sourdough starter from Ellie.”

           “Ellie doesn’t live in this house.”

           “But I can get it without even touching-”

           “We will make our own bread!” Chris declared. “Nobody leaves this house unless it’s Scott because he’s sick.”

           “Dude, thanks for giving me up.”

           “Thanks for taking my dog.”

-

           “How much longer are we going to be in actual prison?” She asked Chris as he laid back down in their bed holding a cup of coffee in each hand.

           “How many mornings are you going to make me make this?” He asked in response, handing her the Dalgona coffee she saw on Tik Tok the day before.

           “It’s good, so….” Chris sighed and put his arm between her head and the bed’s headboard, trying to wake up enough to understand what the TV was saying.

           “… Has been extended through May 4th, 2020, with another possible extension…” Both of them groaned so loudly that Scott thought they were doing something else when he walked by. He walked into the room with his own cup of hot coffee, looking at the TV before his brother and sister-in-law.

           “I’m not fuckin’ staying in this house until May 4th,” she said loudly. “Chris, make it go away.”

           “What am I supposed to do?”

           “I don’t know, call the senators and make them stop it.” Chris rolled his eyes.

           “Babe. That is not what ASP is about.” It was her turn to roll her eyes at her husband, mocking him much like Scott did.

           “Don’t start with that again,” Scott said, “it’s great, but annoying.”

           “You’re annoying.” Chris shot his brother a threatening look until he went back to the guest bedroom. “I don’t wanna stay here until May 4th either.”

           “That’s Star Wars day.”

           “Oh, hey, we could watch the new one,” Chris suggested. “Unless you lied and watched it without me.”

           “Like how you took Miles and Stella and bought them lightsabers and didn’t get me one?” She pouted.

           “Are you still mad about that?”

           “As mad as when our honeymoon got cancelled because of Coronavirus.” Chris put his coffee down and hugged her close to him. “I wanted to fuck you on a beach.”

           “And you will. You… already did, that one weekend in the Hamptons. But my point is…” The two dogs jumped up on the bed, joining their parents in a cuddle. “We’ll go when the stay at home is lifted, okay? I really don’t want to get stuck somewhere else or get sick. This shit’s serious.”

           “I know.”

           “And at least we can still spend time together. And I don’t have to be in LA next week.” Chris pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her lips. She tasted like instant coffee. “I love you and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

-

           It had been three days and she was waiting for the I’ll-make-it-up-to-you that Chris promised. He always made promises and always kept them, always, so it was only a matter of time before something was done. It had been two weeks since Scott tested negative at a drive-thru, too, so he’d finally gone to see his sisters and the kids. Rex and Dodger weren’t battling it out for some reason, instead on their respective beds on the floor on either side of the TV stand. She was on the couch, playing Animal Crossing for the third day in a row since she’d gotten it from Target drive-up. And Chris was, surprisingly, nowhere to be found. He’d been gone since he delivered her coffee that morning. Until she heard the back door slide open and Chris walked inside in the clothes he usually painted or cleaned in.

           “Come outside,” Chris instructed. “I’m not letting you negotiate, come outside.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, one that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

           “Why?”

           “Humor me, baby, please?” He asked, walking up to her and offering her a hand. He smelled like chemicals. For some reason, she loved him so much that she was about to cooperate with whatever scheme he had come up with to entertain them for the day.

           “Why are you taking me to the backyard?” She was suspicious. The same kind of suspicious she was on the day that he proposed to her nine months ago. But Chris didn’t answer. He just kept holding her hand and leading her outside with a stupid smile on his face and a Patriots hat on his forehead to hide it. She reached the door and looked outside to where the pool had been covered since October, since Chris was too lazy to get it heated. But this time, he had opened the pool and balanced the chemicals and cleaned the algae out. He’d cleaned off the chairs and the tables. Her tan lotion and a towel was sitting on one of the chairs, Chris’s towel and water bottle on the other. He’d taken her old sorority cooler out and filled it with beer and White Claw. He’d tried to make the honeymoon they couldn’t have.

           “Christopher,” she said as he dropped her hand. Her heart melted into a million fucking pieces at the sight, and she just looked over at him.

           “Did I do okay?” He wasn’t playing – he was genuinely asking her if he did okay.

           “Yeah.” Tears started coming to her eyes, too quickly to stop, and she stood up and kissed him. “I love you,” she said.

           “I love you too.” He gave her a watery smile and a kiss on her forehead, pulling her in for a hug. “I promise we’ll go swim with pigs once quarantine is over. Now go put your swimsuit on so I can take it off.”

           “You’re a fucking child.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, thanking him again, as she turned to go change clothes. That was when a certain SUV rolled up in the driveway and Chris’s demeanor changed.

           “No,” Chris said to himself. Scott was back.

           “Chris, it’s fine!” Chris didn’t listen, instead crossing the backyard to the gate and then the gate to Scott’s car, where he tried to wave him back inside.

           “No, no, no, no, you said you were gonna be gone all day!” Scott turned off his car and got out.

           “What?”

           “I made… Oh, come on! Go back to Mom and Dad’s!”

           “I was just there!”      

           “Then go play with Miles and Stella!”

           “Why?”

           “Because I made the Bahamas in the pool for my wife.” Scott scoffed. “I didn’t even show her the blow-up flying pig floatie I ordered off Amazon.”

           “That’s all you needed to say, bud.” Scott patted his brother’s shoulder.

           “What, I needed to say a flying pig floatie or…”

           “Go spend some time with your wife, man. It’s fine. God knows when this thing is going to be over. You deserve a little happy.”

           “Dude, I live here.” Scott shook Chris’s shoulder before slipping his sunglasses back on his face and slinking back into his car. Chris sighed happily, walking back to the backyard. She was standing there, phone in her hand, and only in the towel Chris had left out for her.

           “Hey,” he replied, “good news, Scott…” He chuckled. “Are you filming this?”

           “There’s a thing on Tik Tok where you go to your boys and drop your towel,” she said with a little sad face, thinking he wasn’t into it.

           “Oh. Then go ahead.” She held her phone in the hand, dropping the towel, and watching Chris’s face light up.

           “Thank you for making our Bahamas,” she said as she shut the phone off, having recorded his reaction. She reached for the towel on the floor, but Chris shook his head.

           “There’s no way that’s going back on. If all I had to do was this to get this, then what will doing the dishes do?”

           “Chris!”

[chappedandfadedvds]

Jan 16th, Saturday 15:16

Jens was actually laughing. 

Genuingly laughing, when Lotte told them some really bad joke she had heard in school. A dumb pun. But it had been the fourth in a row and they had finally reached the breaking point.

He sat at the table, an half emptied plate of apple slices between him and his little sister, while Lies roamed the kitchen to write down a list of groceries to buy on her way home. She planned to visit their mom and it had weighed heavy on her, when she had admitted this to Jens early that morning infront of the bathroom mirror.

Lies had told him, how much it hurt to live so far away and unable to travel and come home. She would have loved to help Jens over the past year, even if it would just have been for a week here and there. It was the reason why she had been so desperate to secure the position to be send to Brussels. 

Not that it been an actual problem, her wokrplace knew very well about her family situation. Still, Lies had said, that the moment she had recieved the plane tickets only a week ago, she had broken down in her boss’s office. 

Lies was here though now, thankful for the opportunity to bid farewell to their mother in person at last.

Jens understood the relief his older sister had explained to him. He couldn’t even entertain the thought of not being able to see his mom, while prohibited to visit inmidst the pandemic.

„Oh, I know! There is this one dish Theo and me always make as comfort food. Quite easy, but really nice in winter, with a good hearty broth. I’m going to do that.“ Lies declared vague from where she stood behind the opened door of the fridge. Mumbling something under her breath, while she noted things down on the piece of paper on the counter next to her.

„I don’t know if I should trust you to actually cook something delicious.“ Jens mocked, reminded of the many times that Lies had simply ordered take-out on every evening she was watching her siblings. Cooking was for loosers, she always had said, and simultaneously implied that she was at an absolute loss in the kitchen.

„Says the person who had managed to let noodles get burned to crisps while boiling them.“ 

„I was ten.“ He defended, cackling when Lies snorted and their gazes met. So much time had passed, but Jens was assured that the loving arguments between them would never cease to exist.

„But Jens is really good now. He makes like a super good riceotto“ Lotte chimed in, the wide smile on her face somewhere between amused and puzzled. She hadn’t much memories of Jens and Lies together, so it was reasonable for her to be unsure why it was funny. Their little sister had been only five when Lies had left. 

She had cried for a whole week, but with time passing, she had stopped even mentioning Lies alltogether. She knew her, yes, but she couldn’t tell what they had done or talked about together any longer. And maybe it was a little sad, Jens thought, but it also meant that Lotte wouldn’t miss Lies as much as Jens sometimes did.

„Risotto.“ Jens corrected, while he leaned a little over to ruffle through her hair. She slapped his hand away, stucking out her tounge at him in jest.

„Well, maybe Jens should cook then. I won’t complain.“

„No way, you are the oldest now, you cook.“ Jens quickly proclaimed his flawless reasoning against the mere suggestion Lies had voiced. His older sister barely contained herself from laughing again, instead nodded along, as she continued to write even more things down. 

Jens knew that she had come with a rented car from the airport, but the list just grew and he wasn’t sure, if he should tell her off. It looked like she wanted to stock the kitchen for an entire month.

The mood turned a little quieter, only Jens’s spotify playlist filled the house with some comfortable noise, while Lotte sketched some abstract scenes on paper. Jens’s eyes flicked over every once in a while, but it appeared like there wasn’t much reason behind it.

He yawned and stretched his arms, a loud cracking sound in his shoulder earned him a gleeful glance from Lies, who he flipped off. Despite it, he felt younger today. He felt lighter. His breathing wasn’t hurting as much, his thoughts came easier. 

Lies and him had talked for hours yesterday. He had forgotten how close they used to be. Which was wierd given their age difference and them not even being the same gender. But somehow they always stuck together. Jens wished she would stay.

The day they had bid goodbye at the airport had been locked somewhere into his head. Even after three years he didn’t dared to touch it.

This all would be easier if he had Lies to live with them. But it wasn’t reality and Lies had made him understand that it was okay to be scared. She had admitted at three in the morning, when they had headed to bed, that it had taken her month to figure out how to live on her own. Especially after she had moved to a different continent, while leaving her family behind. Jens could do this too.

He still had all of his friends around. He had this house. He had Lotte.

He just had to start somewhere.

„I think I’m going to call Lucas.“ Jens suddenly said. For a moment he had considered the possibility that he hadn’t spoken aloud at all. However, it became clear that he had, as both his sister’s heads spun towards him in an instant.

„Really? That came out of nowhere. But good for you. I think you should.“ Lies said, a little startled by his surprising change of demeanour. Only this morning he had still sat depressed and hunched over in pity in front of his breakfast. Jens wasn’t even sure himself where the urge to do it had popped up from.

„Yes!“ Lotte followed up quickly with bright wide eyes. Of course she would be excited.

„Okay. I’m going to do it.“ He declared, more to will his confidence in excistense than aynthing else.

He was nervous. Maybe Lucas wouldn’t even pick up? Jens wasn’t even sure, if Lucas’s mom was still around. This was a bad idea. 

The whole conversation from thursday sprung back into his mind. The hurt in Lucas’s eyes and the anger in his words. All caused by Jens. What if the other boy needed more time? What if he wouldn’t even pick up?

The fear must have shown on his face. Jens was sure, because Lies stood suddenly next to him, to push his phone into view. He had been starring at the surface of the table, unmoving, even when Lotte had come closer too, with a hand resting on his shoulder.

„Come on. Call.“ Lies demanded, despite the gentleness in her voice, it still made him take the phone into his hand.

„Alright.“

„Do you want us to leave?“

Good question, Jens thought, unsure how to answer. But then, he wasn’t planning on having the needed conversation over phone anyway. He was scared that words would get twisted and intentions screwed by the missing connection one had face to face.

So he shook his head.

The phone rang four times. 

Nothing.

He tried again. Just this second time and then he would put it away again.

It merely managed to make a sound, before the call was answered.

„Jens?“

He sat at the table, his breath on hold, as he listened to the boy on the other end. Jens wouldn’t cry from solely his name being spoken by the person he missed so much for only a couple of days now. He wouldn’t.

That was at least what he desperately told himself.

„Jens? Are you there?“

There was worry in the voice and Jens didn’t trust it. He didn’t deserved it. But he was on the phone, he remembered. He had been the one to iniiate the conversation. He should probably say something.

„Hi.“ 

Jesus. His voice had certainly cracked, like some fifteen year old teenanger going through puperty. This was embarrassing. But it also helped. Lucas was definitely snorting on the other end of the call. And the three siblings all fell into laughter, with Lies wheezing at her brother’s pitiful attempt to make things right. His sister’s really tried to keep quiet, but it kind of was in vain. Lucas must have heard them.

It took Jens a solid minute to speak again. 

„Sorry, about that.“

„It’s alright.“ Lucas said as he took an audible deep breath to calm down to continue. The faintest amusement in his voice still there, even if the mood had turned serious again. „I am really glad that you called.“

It was the earnesty that struck Jens the most. It came unexpected. He had planned to force Lucas to hear him out if he had to. In the strong assumption that the younger boy didn’t wanted to talk to him in the first place. Apparently Jens had been wrong. Again. Like so often. It seemed to become a habit.

„I’m glad you picked up.“

„Of course.“ Lucas replied without any hesitation, it made Jens smile a little. It felt so good to hear him again. To hear him at ease. Jens pushed away the intruding thought in his head, that told him that it probably had to do with Jens’s absence. He hated that he somehow could belive it.

„I thought, maybe we can talk?“

There was a brief pause on the other end, as the call fell silent.

„I’d like that. When?“ Lucas asked and Jens noticed that he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

„Uhm, when?“

„Yes, when?“ 

The amusement in the younger boy was back. Jens could imagine Lucas shaking his head at the silly and ungraceful awkwardness Jens presented. There was a hand in his view, that lead him to look up at Lies, who tried to get his attention.

„Tomorrow.“ She whispered, nodding her head quickly, while she pointed a finger to herself. „I can watch Lotte.“

Jens loved Lies so much, it was ridiculous.

„How about tomorrow? I could come over to yours.“

„Okay. Be here at one maybe?“

„Yes, that works.“ He affirmed in a heartbeat. Jens would have agreed to any proposed time. It wouldn’t have mattered as long as he got the chance to talk to Lucas. He had an idea what he wanted to say after last night’s conversation with Lies. He knew that it wouldn’t be perfect or maybe even work in his favour, but it would be a start.

„I’ll see you tomorrow then.“ Lucas said.

„Tomorrow.“

They sat in silence for a moment. Usually Jens would have told him that he loved him. But it didn’t feel right, even when the feelings were clearly there. It felt too much to voice it. They hadn’t broken up yet, but it wasn’t as if they were in a relationship still either. So he simply waited. 

And then there was a clicking sound and the call was ended.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 4. Him

‘be gentle my little thunderstorm, the world is just not ready.’ a.j. lawless

The day we had tea with the Cambridges ended the same way many before: with Lourdes sending a video of her ice skating routine asking for my opinion; that time I didn’t even pretend to see it. I ignored the text and tried to sleep. 

Louis barged into the room soon after.

“Will you stop ignoring our sister?”, he asked, rudely. “She notices, Maggie. And it’s really unfair.”

“Okay.” I said. “Goodnight.”

I heard him sigh, and nothing else. No steps out of the room, no creaky Clarence House door closing, no light down. Finally, I pushed away the cover and sat up.

“I can’t do this now, Louis. I have a headache.”

I’d come up with the headache excuse in order to skip dinner with the Prince of Wales and his wife, but my brother knew that excuse better than anyone. 

After leaving the Cambridges, we had gone back to Clarence House, where we were hosted for the trip, and changed into black attire for a military ceremony in town where I managed to avoid my brother to try and focus on being less upset. He wasn’t about to make it easy for me, though.

At one point, Harry came to stay in line with us as my father and Prince Charles received the compliments from the officials. He gave me that look of his I was now coming to identify as a signature look, one with more intentions than verbalized; one with more feeling than was allowed. 

“Nice dress.” He said. Leaning in close enough that only I could hear him, close enough that his lips brushed my hair and couldn’t be read by prying reporters, he added, “The person wearing it is prettier.”

It took all in me to contain an eyeroll, but the amused smile in my lips was impossible to hold back. Just as I felt my cheeks redden, Louis joined in.

“It’s probably our mother’s. The shoes definitely are.”

It wasn’t a dig for the untrained ears. My mother, in all ways, was more stylish and beautiful than a woman her age should be allowed to be. But knowing my brother for all the twenty-two years he’d been on this earth, I knew very well how to distinguish his honest compliments to his sarcastic ones.

Still, the moment passed, and I maintained the posture expected of me. Coming home, however, I had to tell my father I had a headache so I could come right upstairs before dinner, or else I might lose it in public. 

I had a nice, warm shower, put on my softest fleece pajamas, and brushed my hair while talking to my friend Constance on the phone about our other friend Stella and her terrible taste in men, allowing it to distract me from my brother and wild, unruly thoughts of Harry. 

After that, I got under the blankets and prepared to stare at funny pictures on pinterest - an app I had a fake, incognito account on - until sleep took over. I promptly ignored my sister’s text, as I was known to do, and not ten minutes later Louis barged into the room.

I finally heard the door close, and was overtaken by a familiar struggle against tears, but before I could decide if I should succumb to it, the mattress dipped as my brother climbed onto bed with me. A few seconds went by in silence before he finally broke it.

“Look. Maggie. I… I was talking to Will earlier.”

“Prince William?”

“Oui. I guess I just… I didn’t realize- of course I knew you were helping a lot back home. I just didn’t think it bothered you so much.”

I took it in; he was… almost apologizing.

“Well, now you know.”

“Yes, I do. And, I don’t know, I just…”

I pushed the blankets down and sat up, still not looking over at him, but allowing myself to be in the moment as well.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”

I sighed, and finally looked over at him. 

My brother didn’t look too young or old, he had that odd quality of looking precisely his age. He had a light stubble growing around his thin, pointy jaw; it was the same color as his hair, blonde, which was now growing almost to his ears. It waved about, framing his eyes, a nice, dark blue shade just like mine - Lourdes had them too, all three of us had inherited them from our mother. The blonde hair we got from dad’s side of the family, as well as an unwavering determination.

“I’m not unhappy, Lou. I just… I could be happier, I suppose.”

He nodded. “And I want you to be.”

Letting out a long breath, I attempted to also let go of the anger, and focus on what I knew for sure about Louis.

He had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. No matter the signs, or how often he was told of the contrary, Louis was always decided to give people the benefit of the doubt. It was a trait we got from our mother, too, and I wasn’t sure what had made me slightly more cynical than him in this aspect, but I suspected it happened somewhere in Law School.

Louis wanted people to be happy, to excel. He wanted laughter and adventure and success for every person that crossed his path. I knew for a fact there was no way he would ever really wish the contrary, on anyone. I knew something else, too, something much more important.

I knew exactly why he was afraid to come home.

“I know you’re trying to figure things out.” I told him. “I don’t blame you. I know it’s tough.”

He nodded, slowly, and took in a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was wavering; barely a whisper.

“I’m not, though. Not anymore. I think you know that. I haven’t been figuring things out anymore. I’ve known, really known, for a while now.”

All thoughts of the fight forgotten, I felt my heart tighten on my chest. I looked at my little brother, shrunk down and resolute, sitting by my side in bed. He was staring off into the room, but I knew, somehow, he was perfectly aware of my every move.

“You’re sure?” My whisper matched his. I presumed my fear did too.

He sighed, gulped, and shut his eyes tight, before opening them again and smiling at me, scared.

“I’m in love with him.”

The words were new, but the sentiment wasn’t; Louis was fifteen the first time he told me he thought he might be gay. I remembered the day as if I had been replaying it in my mind at least once a month ever since, because it was accurate. 

It was summer; I was almost eighteen, fresh out of my secondary school graduation, but still a few weeks before my adult future. We had been spending summer with our grandparents at the place they lived after my grandfather abdicated as king, Haydell Castle, in the east coast of Savoy. The Castle sat on a hill overlooking the Atlantic, and Louis, myself and Lourdes would go to the beach most afternoons to play volleyball and tan. One late afternoon, Lourdes was applying finishing touches to a sandcastle she’d spent hours working on. Louis had been helping, but left her to get some water from the cooler near where I was laying, struggling to read a book on the darkening light of the fast approaching sunset. 

He sat down by my side with a thud, drank half a bottle of water as I complained about the sand he’d inadvertently thrown my way, and then, without looking at me, said, “I think I have a crush on a classmate.”

Louis went to an all-boys boarding school. The boy in question was a very handsome senior, with kind eyes and handsome dimples. My brother spent a while telling me about how he liked sports and theater and wanted to backpack through South America after school. Then we spent the rest of the summer brainstorming what this could mean.

Monarchies weren’t built on diversity. The core of the system our family was built on was genetics and catholicism, two elements that were famously not very lenient. The Royal Family of Savoy had branched out from the French Royal Family many generations ago. Though we prided ourselves, then and now, that we were different, we still inherited some very big elements from them. A few tiaras, a few titles, and Catholicism. Though Savoy had freedom of religion, the monarchy’s official creed was still Catholicism. It was involved in most of our protocols and traditions, a king couldn’t even be crowned if he hadn’t been baptised in the church. 

The idea of a gay, catholic King of Savoy was ludicrous even to us, no matter how much we wished it wasn’t.

And then, there was the issue of the line of succession. Say the church and country allowed my brother to reign as an out gay man, say they allowed him to marry a man in the Catholic church, say they allowed him to be crowned as king with a prince consort… It would be his duty to secure the line of succession; a king’s job is to produce a child to be the next king whose child will be next after him, and so on. Though it was the 21st century, there was no precedent to a king’s heir being anything other than his own, biologic child. And even as we tried to consider the idea of my brother having one with an egg donor, using a surrogate, we immediately knew what that would mean: whoever this woman was, her privacy would never be respected. People would want to know everything about her. 

As to adopting, what were his options? In what world would the press not hunt down every possible information about the child’s biological family? Interview every distant relative for money? Come up with every way to embarrass them for clicks on an article? How could that child possibly be raised to be king with that kind of scrutiny surrounding them? 

I thought of it as we sat in silence. He loved Peter. Peter loved him. And yes, they were young and that might change, but Louis being gay wouldn’t. Louis wanting to be a father was unlikely to change. But there was no precedent for a king to have an adopted child as an heir, and having a biological child through surrogate would be too hard on a surrogate and her family, being harassed and forever linked to us. If he sacrificed his own wishes and decided not to have children in order to spare them, then me or my children would have to inherit, which to me was simply unthinkable.

“They’re not going to cut you out.” I told him. “You know mom and dad, they love you. They love us. It might be hard dealing with everyone else, but they’ll always support you.”

He gulped. “The thing is… they might love me, but that’s not enough to change centuries of tradition just so I can-”

“Be who you are!”

He was silent, pulling on a lose thread on the blanket.

“I suppose I could just do what they did back in the day.” He considered. “Marry some poor, naive girl, sleep with her just enough to produce an heir and make Peter my secretary so we can carry out a scandalous and secret affair.”

I gave him a sarcastic look, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m kidding.” He started biting a nail. “I could just… not have children.”

“You want children.”

“...yeah.”

“We’ll think of something.” I told him, confidently. “It’ll be easier once mom and dad know. They’ll figure something out. They’re good at this. They’re not going to make you keep this a secret, they love you too much.”

He sighed. “It would be easier for me to abdicate.”

“That’s not happening!”

“Why?! Because you can’t fathom the idea of having to inherit?! You think it’s okay to put me or my children through hell so you can hold on to your comfort? Who’s being selfish now?!”

I stared at him, mouth agape.

“That’s not fair.” I wasn’t even sure the words had come out, so low was my volume and so loud my shock.

He reached out and held my hand in his, leaning over to lay his head on my shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I laid my cheek against his hair, holding his hand tightly. 

The worst part was knowing he was right. As unfair as it was, the easiest path was for him to come out and simply not have kids. But I didn’t want the headache of figuring out how to raise children to inherit after him, or worse yet, to have to be the heir if he was made to abdicate. It was such a colossal thought I couldn’t even think of it too much without feeling a panic attack creeping in.

He was 22. My little brother shouldn’t even be concerned about children at this age. And yet, because of the backwards traditions we were embroiled in from birth, he had no choice, and all our lives depended on how accepting the world would be of who he was.

“Hey.” I called, and he raised his head to look at me. “We will figure it out. I promise.” 

His smile was so small it broke my heart even more. He didn’t say anything, though. He just nodded, slowly, and stared at his hands.

“I love Peter.” I said, tentatively. I had said it before, but it carried a different weight now. Louis’ smile grew. 

“I want to introduce him to Lou. She didn’t come that time you met him, I think they’ll get along.”

I bumped my shoulder to his. “Just tell him to compliment her skating, she’ll love him.”

He chuckled, then looked at me very seriously. “Speaking of our sister, you could be more patient with her, you know?”

I sighed. “I am.”

“No, you’re not. Patient would be watching her videos and offering useful advice.”

“You’re asking too much.”

“I can do it, so can you! You think I care about ice skating?”

“Kinda.”

“Well… okay, I do. But they wear really sparkly dresses. Honestly, Maggie, she just wants to make you proud.”

“I don’t…!” I sighed, “I don’t really know how to talk to her, sometimes. I only had a couple of years with her before going to boarding school, you at least got to see her more often.”

He fished into his pockets, found his phone and opened the messaging app. I watched him create a group, add both me and Lourdes to it, name it ‘Louis’ Girl Gang’, and send the message, ‘this way it’s easier to chat!’.

“This way you can just watch how I interact with her and mimic.” He said. “Just react like me and soon you’ll be able to do it yourself.”

I opened my phone and replied, ‘this chat name is ridiculous’.

“Ouch.” He said, emotionless.

I gave him a dirty look, and we laughed. Both our phones buzzed at the same time with Lourdes’ reply, the first of many.

‘yay i love this! miss u guys!’

I smiled. She was too sweet for her own good. 

I had no idea what the future held for us, but I knew with one hundred percent certainty I loved every single atom of my siblings.

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

The drive to the polo club the following morning - our last one in Britain - wasn’t long, but we had to leave early enough that I had to do my makeup in the car. Did I need makeup to play polo? No. But would the press comment on how ‘tired’ I looked if I didn’t? Yes, so shaky hands on a tiny mirror it was.

Harry and William were already at the club when we got there; we were introduced to the horses we were using that morning, and the rest of the people who would be playing. There was a small breakfast laid out, with mimosas and champagne flutes, which we ate as we made some small talk and got to know everyone. 

“So,” Harry started, finding me alone by the water jugs.

“So.” I replied.

“I’ve been doing some googling.” 

“Yes?”

He sighed. “And I cannot, for the life of me, figure out when we may have met.”

“Oh.” I smiled.

I had started to think he’d forgotten it, or worse, simply didn’t care. But apparently he did. He cared enough to look it up.

The thought felt… oddly warm.

“I asked my people. And then I asked my people to ask your people, who weren’t able, or willing, to come up with an answer. So I do not know, for the life of me, when we may have met before two days ago.”

I nodded, smiling slightly. “Your efforts are noted.”

“Look, I feel like a jerk.” He sighed. “I’m sure I would remember you if we met before. You have a face a guy would remember.”

I swallowed the electric shock that line sent through me. “Apparently not.”

“Give me a hint. Was it here or in Savoy? Or another country? Day or night? Was it more than a year ago?”

I looked at him, brows raised. “It was in another country, during the day, more than a year ago.”

He nodded, attentive, scratching his beard. Then, he sighed dramatically. “God, I have no idea!”

“So you give up?”

He grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“No. It’s a question.”

He stared into my eyes for a beat, as his smile grew.

“No, I don’t give up. I’ll figure it out.”

I nodded, silently, holding his stare.

I suddenly realized I didn’t have a plan. I hadn’t planned on making this a big deal, but now when I eventually had to tell him, we would both be faced with a story that wasn’t as interesting or sexy as we had made it sound.

“So, what are we thinking?!” My brother interrupted, joining us with William. “Heirs against spares?”

“What, and lose the chance to massacrate Harry on the field?” I challenged, as the ginger looked at me, mouth agape.

“Nice! I love the sentiment, Margueritte!” William cheered. “She’s on my team, dibs on Margueritte!”

“Excuse me, I believe I already have dibs on Mary.” Harry interjected, making his brother laugh.

The line was so unapologetically flirty I felt my jaw drop as I looked around. We were at a tent in the back, where the players were getting ready before being sorted into teams. There was no press around, but there was a lot of people who hadn’t signed NDAs or anything.

Louis was squinting at Harry with a mischievous grin on his lips. “Excuse me, are you flirting with my sister?”

I felt my stomach twirl in anxiety, and tried to give him a warning look, but before I could, Harry answered.

“I’ve been trying to, for the past three days.”

He was smiling at me now, again so unapologetically it felt as if I had lost all ability to function. William was watching the whole thing with an amused look on his eyes.

Louis’ grin grew into a smile, as he slowly moved his eyes from Harry to me, “Huh.”

“Is that a problem?”, Harry asked my brother.

“For me? No!” He assured him, “For you? Well…”

“She hasn’t exactly made it easy for me.”

“Sounds like her.”

“Louis-Adolphe!” I admonized, earning from him a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t use both my names as if you’re mom.”

William laughed.

“Any tips?” Harry asked Louis, very seriously, but looking at me as if studying an animal on the wild.

“Hm,” my brother considered him, “Patience. Her only relationship was with a family friend we’ve known all our lives, and that took forever.”

“Lou!” I warned, again.

“What?! It’s not like he can’t google you.” He shrugged.

“Okay.” I said, before turning on my heels to exit the tent.

I made myself busy elsewhere, but couldn’t keep my mind straight. My heart was racing and I couldn’t tell if the reason was Louis’ teasing or Harry’s unabashed flirting, or both. Before I knew it, though, we were stretching as a group, and getting our uniforms on; I did stay on William’s team, while Harry and Louis played together. 

He found me as we made our way into the field, while I was busy trying to tie the upper half of my hair on a low ponytail.

“Have I told you you look fantastic today, Mary?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll remedy that as soon as possible.”

“You look fantastic, Mary. White pants suit you.”

Harry’s eyes hovered down my body over my form-fitting white jeans under the black riding boots.

“Thank you.” I said, curt, and paced faster to my horse, starting to fasten the girth to adjust the saddle.

“...I’m sorry.”

I stopped, and looked back at him, only half surprised he was still there. A little more than half surprised by the genuine fear and sadness in his eyes. 

“Oh. For?”

He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable before, when I was talking to your brother. I was just… trying to lighten the mood. Be, you know, funny I guess.”

I gulped; funny?

“Right. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I resumed my work on the horse’s saddle.

I even added a short smile to go with the lie, but it didn’t seem to convince him.

“Really, I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Why would I be upset?”

He took a quick step closer and wrapped my hand in his; I felt my breath caught in my throat as I noticed how big they were, his knuckles were protuberant, his veins popped against his pale skin. In a dark corner in my mind I wondered what hands like those might feel like on my body.

“Mary.” He whispered, softly; I gulped, not daring to meet his gaze. 

“Marie.” I whispered back.

He sighed. “Marie. If you want me to stop, and just… be your friend, or even just a polite acquaintance…” 

He allowed the end of his sentence to hang in the air, ominous; It felt horrifying, specially hearing him call me my actual name. It made me look back at him, meeting his eyes a lot closer than I thought they would be.

“...all you gotta do is say so.” He finished, finally. 

The offer sounded awfully simple for a feat that sounded amazingly difficult, though I couldn’t understand why. He was being so annoying, so infuriating for the past three days. It would be so easy to tell him to back off, if only it weren’t for that little part of my heart that was trying to tell me he wasn’t that annoying. And really, wasn’t the only frustrating thing about it that we had had so little time together? After all, his hand was still on mine, and it did feel like my whole body was warmer than the British sun on that morning warranted.

“What’s this?” I asked.

As I looked back to his hands, I noticed once more that he had something written in them. He turned his palm towards me, while the back of his hand still rested in mine.

“This says ‘call Gil’, it’s the manager of my foundation in Lesotho. I have to get back to him about something. And this other line says ‘figure out trip’. It’s my mate’s birthday next month and the lads asked me to figure out how we can organize a hunting trip for him.”

As he explained his little reminder list on his palm, I traced it with the tips of my fingers lightly. After I ran out of the ink to trace, I started tracing the lines in his palm, very slowly.

“Bad memory?” I teased.

He sighed, “The worst. Well, not about important things. I remember important things. But names of people I met only a couple times, but should definitely know? Nope. And the deadline to things I have to do? Even worse. Hence the writing in hand.”

“Have you tried setting alarms on your phone?”

“I barely know how to make calls.” He rolled his eyes.

“Drama queen!”

“I’m serious! We’re not allowed to use social media, so really what’s there to do? I just don’t use it much.”

“God, it’s like you’re 80.”

He chuckled, and his hand closed on reflex over mine. Now it was almost as if we were holding hands. The thought, the warmth of his skin on mine, sent a shock wave through my body.

“Come on, Harry, no flirting with the competition!” Louis called out as he rode by.

We chuckled, timidly.

“Things seem better, with Louis.” He commented. 

I smiled. “We talked.”

“Did he understand?”

I nodded. “Yes. He’s got a good heart. He’s young, but he’d never willingly do something to hurt anyone. It’s just…” I sighed, giving him a side glance. “He’s got… some stuff to figure out. And I wanna help as much as I can. I just… Can’t sacrifice myself for it. And I think he gets it.”

There was a pause, a more comfortable one this time, and next time he spoke, he had a whisper of a smile on his lips.

“You didn’t ask me to stop.” He whispered. I looked at him. 

“I guess I didn’t.”

We exchanged a smile, and just as I felt my cheeks redden at the long pause, his brother rode by already on his horse.

“Stop flirting with my player, Harry, get to your horse!”

We jumped, startled, but chuckled timidly as he rode away.

“So, how confident are you that you’re going to beat me?”, he asked.

“Oh, only about 89%.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Ninety-six, tops.”

He nodded, amused. “Care to make it interesting?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Loser buys dinner.”

I bit my inner lip to contain a smile. It almost sounded like he was asking me on a date. Was he asking me out on a date?

“I… I have to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Well, Savoy is, what? Four or five hours away by train?”

“Another one and a half to the city where I live.”

He nodded, then shrugged. “I can do that. What do you say?”

I placed a foot on the stirrup, and jumped up to take my seat on the saddle.

“Win first, Your Royal Highness. Then we’ll talk.”

“Game on, Mary.”

--- ---- ---

[A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!! please let me know if you like it? I’m open to notes, suggestions, all of it =) just liking this chapter would really help me know!

I don’t know how to say this without spoiling a big plot point in the story, but to be fair it is sort of the main premise, so if you’d like not to be spoiled on plot points, maybe come back later? Cool. Let’s get to it.

When I first started writing this story, I hadn’t intended on Margueritte’s brother, Louis, to be such a big character. I expected his time with us would be… well, shorter, after all the main idea for this story starts with his - again, spoiler alert - death. But as I wrote a little of him, I I liked him so much, and I ended up writing more and more and soon it was really heartbreaking killing him. As you’ll soon find, Louis fits into a trope I didn’t intentionally set out to write: the kill your gays trope. I don’t want to go into details because that’s enough spoilers, but suffice to say mea culpa, and also I hope you’ll give me a chance to show I do have a bigger intention with this: one, monarchies are famously heteronormative. They essentially can’t survive otherwise, or so we are told. I have always wandered about this. We’ve all read the historical examples of homosexuality being swiftly repressed for the good of the succession line. As a modern royal, Margueritte will have to look this issue in the eyes, too. She’ll have to realize the role she plays in a system where for her family and its history to survive, some families cannot exist in their purest form, and she will struggle with not being able to tell the world the truth about her brother - since it is not her place - knowing this makes her an accomplice in rewriting history to fit her best purpose. 

Which choices she makes and which path she decided to take in this issue are something I’m excited to explore, as I honestly believe monarchies will have to have a solution for this at one point or another.

TL/DR: though this story adds to the kill your gays trope, which I know it’s problematic, I want to write about the way monarchies perpetuate heteronormativity and how they will have to find a way for all their members, regardless of sexuality or gender identity, to feel at home in the institution, and I intend to add more non-straight characters so delve into this issue.]

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Riding carriages around the camp

For arts and crafts week we've been building carriages and testing them out. Edie, Jamila, Easton, and Anissa have come to visit the camp and help us build these fun rides. So not only we get to build a bunch of cool stuff, we also have a new appreciation for the beautiful scenery - an unexpected but super sweet bonus!

It's so good to see Edie and the others again after so long. The trip is kinda a big deal for Anissa as it's not easy for her to travel. Edie and Jamila reached out to me a few months ago to plan this outing, leaving things as open as possible in case something happens with Anissa.

The building carriages event was something separate that was kinda a spontaneous thing that happened to line up perfectly with the visit. Jamila and Edie love working on big projects together while Easton and Anissa help out so they were excited when I told them about arts and crafts week. Also, riding the carriages was a good way to get around the camp as well as explore outside the usual hangout spots.

I was (still am) surprised when Jamila messaged me and wanted to take Anissa out here. Out of all the places she could have gone, Anissa instead chose the camp. She had once told Jamila that she'd wanted to visit the camp someday and that they probably would've done it by now if it wasn't for her. That conversation stuck with Jamila for a long time and when things took a turn for Anissa, Jamila, Edie, and Easton wanted to make the most out of the time they have left with her.

Edie has been friends with Anissa and Jamila since they for as long as they can remember. During the summer the twins would join the Sperry family on their yearly trip to Edie's grandma's farm, which holds many of their favorite childhood memories. During the school year Edie was a frequent guest at the Amine household and the three would play together for hours, letting their imagination run wild. There, Edie was allowed to be carefree and not have to deal with constant criticism from her father.

As Edie got older, she became part of the Amine family. She and Anissa were often in the same class so they stuck together a lot. Jamila didn't mind being the third wheel as she was happy to be doing her own thing at home while the other two often went out and about. Even though it didn't look like it to the grown ups, Jamila never felt like she was left behind.

Then Easton came along and he too became an honorary member of the Amine family. The girls were ten when he was born, the youngest and only son in the Sperry family. Easton was born missing half his left leg so he wears a prosthetic and other than his father, everyone else treats him like normal. Out of all the siblings, he's the closest to Edie, always tagging along with her.

For a while every day was pretty much the same. Edie, Anissa, and Jamila would walk home from school, sometimes stopping by the Sperry house to bring Easton along if Edie's mom had her hands full. The three would do their homework while the twins's mom watched over Easton. Then Edie and Anissa would usually be playing on the tire swing while Jamila knitted on the porch and played with Easton. Sometimes Edie would bring her banjo along and played some songs while the twins sang along, a highlight during summer nights at the farm.

Their favorite thing to do together was playing pretend in the attic because everyone had something to do, even Easton. The girls would often pretend to be accomplished women with successful lives full of adventure. Anissa was the one with the most creative imagination, often making up funny stories that would leave the others rolling on the floor with laughter. She was great at improvising with Easton, who was happy to join in on the fun.

When the girls were twelve, Anissa's life changed forever. The girls were playing pretend as usual when Anissa complained about a headache that quickly grew worse. She was rushed to the hospital and in Jamila's words, that was the last time she and Edie saw the old Anissa. A blood vessel had burst in Anissa's brain, resulting in a stroke that left Anissa comatose for several days.

While the damage from the stroke was not as extensive as initially feared, Anissa was no longer the same. Edie and Jamila were determined to bring back the old Anissa, only to be disappointed when they got their hopes up too high. Anissa was still set on marching to the beat of her own drum, trying to prove her independence whenever she could, which further convinced Jamila and Edie that she was going to make a full recovery. It took a long time for the girls to accept that things would never go back to normal.

The whole ordeal made Edie and Jamila closer than ever. Edie would help the family care for Anissa and in turn lift Anissa's spirits up. When Anissa got stronger, Edie would bring Easton along and he too provided some much needed sunshine during a difficult time.  Edie's mom and sisters helped out a lot as well, making sure that the Amines were doing all right.

Edie, Jamila, and Anissa have always been a tight knit group. Although Anissa was made strides in her recovery, the effects of the stroke still linger. Jamila and Edie became Anissa's caretakers when the three moved in together, living about twenty minutes away from their old neighborhood. Both families agreed that it was good to give Anissa some degree of independence as by then she could take care of herself for most part and didn't need constant supervision.

In recent years, various complications arose, which was expected but that didn't make it any easier. Anissa was well known at the hospital as she was a miracle. She beat the odds not only by surviving but also by living. What happened to her was rare - her doctor told that in the hospital's two hundred year history, only three other kids suffered from the same condition. One died on the way to the hospital, another slipped into a coma and never woke up, and one lived for two years before suffering from another stroke. No matter what happens, at least one thing's certain - Anissa always marches to the beat of her own drum.

Anissa for the most part managed to live a somewhat independent life. She got her GED, was able to relearn various skills like playing the piano, reading, and cooking, - all which she documented on her blog: Searching for Anissa.

When I started making plans with Jamila and Edie, I later found myself re-reading Searching for Anissa. Reading the stories of the girls, from the recollections of simpler days in the farm to the struggles of everyday life - it's such a fascinating read. The blog's more like a memoir that's a work in progress with Anissa writing her thoughts out and Jamila and Edie contributing by filling in some of the gaps and sharing their own memories.

The blog hasn't been updating regularly for a couple years because life's been getting in the way. But this year Anissa's hoping to post something at least once a week as she wants to keep writing while she still can. In the past year she's had two mini strokes so her hands don't work as well anymore, making it difficult for her to do a lot of things. While she's sad that she can't type anymore, Anissa found it therapeutic to say her thoughts out loud as it helped her accept what lies ahead for her. In turn, her blog posts have been a lot more free flowing as she contemplates her uncertain future.

For now everyone's doing their best to make sure Anissa's comfortable. She's been doing well physically so that's good. Good thing we have carriages so Anissa can explore the camp and enjoy the scenery. Also, Jamila, Edie, and Easton had a lot of fun building the carriage as well as taking it out for a spin at Breezy Hollow.

At times it seemed like the camp was being taken over by carriages. We even managed to make a train by attaching a bunch of carriages together, which was a really fun way to travel! First, we visited the meadow where Jamila knitted a blanket and Edie took out her banjo. Since the weather was a bit chilly I wasn't sure how long we were gonna stay there but thanks to Jamila's blanket, we ended up hanging around for a while.

Then we went down the trail by the mountains, which went surprisingly smoothly as the carriages went by with little difficulty. At the forest we split up into two groups with Daisy Jane, Edie, and Easton going for a short hike in the mountains while I stayed with the twins. Anissa admired the scenery, taking in the sights, sounds, and textures around her while Jamila began knitting another blanket, creating intricate patterns with ease.

Something about the way Jamila knits makes me want to grab some yarn and needles and join her - which is why Edie and Easton have picked up the hobby too. I think it's because she makes it look so inviting, like a fun bonding activity if you want to spend some quality one on one time with someone. The way she knits - on one hand it's like she's a machine because of how much she's able to do in a short time, but on the other hand she totally gives off the vibe of someone who shows appreciation through thoughtful, handmade gifts that she puts her heart and soul into.

After that we passed through Shovelstrike Quarry, OK Motors, and Lost Lure Creek. At Saltwater Shores we hung out at the beach and set up a barbecue. It was too cold to go swimming but we sorta went boating with a carriage built by Whitney and Rolf that can travel on water. The barbecue was a good way to keep warm as it got pretty cold around midday.

Daisy Jane and I cuddled up in our new blankets that Jamila surprised us with. I swear, her hands are like magic when it comes to knitting! While she started another knitting project, Anissa and Easton took a walk down the beach and Edie played her banjo. Later the others joined us by the fire pit for a fun singalong and impromptu concert.

We were planning to head back to the main camp when Anissa said she was feeling up to seeing more of the camp. Since the day was still young and the weather was warming up a bit, we decided to head to Sunburst Island. Anissa got to sit back and enjoy the sunshine while the rest of us harvested coconuts and went bug catching.

Around evening we headed back to the camp, where the campers set up a bonfire to warm things up. Whitney, Goldie, and Rolf went foraging in the forest while testing out their carriages so they found a lot of tea leaves that were perfect for a chilly night like this. After a busy day of riding carriages around the camp, it was nice to cozy up in front of the fire with a warm cup of tea.

Tomorrow will be more of the same - testing out more carriages and exploring different parts of the camp. Thankfully the weather's gonna be much warmer so that gives us even more of an excuse to go sightseeing!

[abitnotgoodiebag]

Blur

Title: Blur

Square Filled: I1 - Did they or didn’t they?

Warnings: drunkenness and terrible mental gymnastics

Word Count: 2,881

Summary: Sam thinks he needs an aspirin, better yet, he needs to get up outta here.

Link to AO3

Blur

Sam groans as he swims back into consciousness.  Both his brain and his tongue are unpleasantly fuzzy and he wants nothing more than a cool washcloth, a cold glass of water and complete darkness and silence for the next decade.  He is too old to be drinking himself into terrible hangovers.  He knows the importance of staying hydrated and yet, here he is again, wishing for death to claim him. Sam can certainly say that he has never been the best at making good decisions.

As Sam debates the pros and cons of moving from his comfortable cocoon, he becomes aware of the sounds of soft snores uncomfortably close to him.  He feels the body heat of someone else underneath the sheets of his (is it his?) bed. He also realizes very suddenly that he doesn’t have a single stitch of clothing on.

Shit.

Sam tries to think of who could possibly be behind him snuffling softly in slumber.  The fact that he’s naked probably means that they are too and Sam could slap himself for the second time in as many minutes.  The pounding in his head doesn’t help at all with his mood and Sam may have finally found the reason to quit drinking altogether.  Waking up with strangers in bed is definitely something that is part of his twenties, not to be done when he’s staring at the front steps of forty.

Sam curses the fact that he is the first one to wake up and debates whether or not moving will wake his bedmate.  His memories of the night before are patchy at best and the more he tries to piece together his time at the hotel, the more alarmed he becomes.

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

It was the one year anniversary of the battle against Thanos and Sam would rather have been anywhere else.  The country was not as accepting of Sam as they had been of Steve. Sam didn’t want to think too closely about why exactly that was (because it was way too easy to get angry and what would that solve?), but there were days that he just wished his detractors would say what they really meant, and not use their carefully-coded acrimonious checklists on why Sam would never be Steven Grant Rogers.  Every single decision Sam made was examined under a microscope in the media. /r/notmycap can’t go a week without some viral thread castigating him and slightly less often, Bucky (It’s always the ‘Winter Soldier’ or ‘The Asset’ though, they seem determined to remind the world that Bucky had a violent and unsavoury past).

If the bad press wasn’t enough, the list of full time Avengers was embarrassingly short.  The Defenders did their own thing, as did Reed’s little group. It almost wasn’t worth anyone’s time trying to talk to Charles Xavier unless the subject was mutant rights (not that there was a problem with that, Sam definitely knew how stupid people could be around anything they perceived as 'different').  No one wanted to work with the reformed psychopathic (his words, Sam wasn’t convinced) mercenary, well, Peter was trying to tell everyone that he wasn’t so bad but Sam wasn’t touching that with a ten foot pole.  Sam, Bucky, Rhodes, and Wanda were all that was left of the Avengers Initiative.  Sure they had emergency and consulting members, but the fact was, Sam was barely captain of anyone.

Sam’s cheerless thoughts had him spending his time at the bar, after quickly making the initial rounds to greet everyone.  He had to admit, Pepper knew how to throw a party.  While there weren’t a lot of full-time Avengers, Thanos had united the entire world against him, and so the rented ballroom (in the most fashionable of hotels) was full-to-bursting.  He scanned his eyes across the room taking in the small groups that didn’t quite mesh together. Thor and his new traveling companions, the Guardians of the Galaxy stood in a loose circle laughing entirely too loudly.  Thor finally found a group who also lacked inside voices, Sam was happy for him. He looked better than he did that day.  That too-long day that Sam went to battle in the fields Wakanda and ended the fight on the remains of their battered home in New York five years and mere seconds later.  

Sam was glad he wasn’t around to see Thor's slow slide into misery.  He had heard Steve (over the phone, Sam still can't quite look at his wrinkled face) tell him the stories of Thor’s grief at losing his father, brother, best friend, and planet within a week only to lose half of existence the very next day.  Sam couldn’t imagine that pain.

Sam dealt with a different sort of grief.  He had missed five years. Five years of his mother's life, five years of his niece’s life.  Unfortunately so had her mother, his sister.  Sam would never understand how his mother dealt with losing both of her children for five years, believing them gone for good.  His house and belongings were all long gone, leaving him and Bucky to scramble to find an apartment together in the aftermath on the ‘Unsnappening’ (fucking twitter called it that and unfortunately it seemed to be stuck).  He refused to put any more stress on his mom by moving back in when Kayla had to get used to her mother being back.  Besides, it was just easier to live with Barnes. He didn’t have any memories of those five years, as far as he could tell no one did, but he couldn’t help but feel it in his bones that he had spent the time with Bucky.

Shaking his head to dispel that line of thought, Sam looked for his best friend.  They had arrived together, as usual, but Bucky was quickly called over by Yo-Yo and Shaw, both of them eager to hang out with the soldier (he’d taken to being a SHIELD operative surprisingly well, all things considered, he even had work friends, Sam was proud of him).

Turning back to the bartender, Sam ordered an old fashioned.  He had recently discovered that between the two of them somehow Sam was the hipster, even though Bucky had refused to give up his ridiculous (fucking beautiful, if Sam was being honest) man bun.  Sam refused to listen to modern music (unless it was Beyonce, but really, it’s Beyonce it goes without saying) and read his paper at the table instead of staring at his phone all the time.  Sam couldn’t help it, he was an old soul and he had endured Bucky’s teasing goodnaturedly.  He absolutely drew the line at handlebar moustaches and penny-farthings though.

“Birdman number two!”  Clint said in what he probably thought was an acceptable volume, clapping Sam on the back.

Sam startled and grinned as he saw his fellow bird-themed hero.  “Barton! How is life treating you?”

“Can’t complain.”  He said with a cheeky smile as he leaned toward Sam and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “If I do, Laura will give me the old boot.  But I’d deserve it because she is the world’s greatest wife.”

“Damn right I am.”  Said Laura as she appeared next to her husband.

Sam sipped his drink and watched them bicker gently.  He loved that in a couple. Sure the schmoopy ones were cute and all, but life is always better with laughter and it was clear the Barton’s were full of laughter.  They excused themselves after two rounds, Laura saying that she was tired and Sam was once again left to his thoughts.

Before he could sink into them too deeply, his eyes landed on Bucky standing next to a scowling Valkyrie and taking a swig out of Thor’s comically enormous flask (Just because he was doing better didn’t mean that he wasn’t still struggling).  Sam smiled slowly at the blush that spread across Bucky’s face after his second long pull. Seems like Thor brought the good stuff.

Sam, armed with his bourbon and a liquid loss of inhibitions, (after the second old-fashioned, Sam wondered why he was even pretending to do anything other than get hammered and stopped bothering with anything more complicated) pushed away from the bar and headed in Bucky’s direction.  

“Hey there my good people.”  Sam smiled lightly as he reached Bucky, Thor, and Valkyrie.  “Is this the 5000 proof section?”

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly after his last pull and passed the flask to Val, Thor letting out a brief sad noise in his throat, knowing he wasn’t going to get another swig any time soon.  “Sure is, pigeon. This is the cool kids table and you can’t sit with us!”

“Ten points to Hufflepuff for correct use of Gretchen Wieners.”  Sam said as Bucky looked confused. Belatedly, Sam realized that they hadn’t gotten to the Harry Potter series yet, Bucky picking both Star Wars and Star Trek (every single iteration, Bucky was obsessed) instead.

“Friend Falcon-Captain!  It feels good to have a night of revelry with all of my shield-broth-”  Thor stopped, his smile faltering slightly. “My shield-mates! Let us toast!”

Sam tossed back the last few drops of his bourbon while Thor waited for Valkyrie to pass him the flask.  Bucky just snorted at Thor’s naivete and headed towards the bar to grab a less alien drink. He reappeared a minute later with three glasses and handed two to Sam and Thor respectively.  They clinked their glasses and drained half of their short tumblers as Valkyrie finally drained the flask.

Bucky and Valkyrie let out loud (and surprisingly deep) twin belches sending Thor and Sam into a fit of giggles.  Bucky joined in their laughter while Val just rolled her eyes and walked off in the direction of the bar, no doubt in search of a bottle or two to occupy her hands.

“What’s so funny?”  Shaw asked, coming up behind Sam and throwing his arm around Sam’s shoulder and resting his chin on the other one.  Yo-Yo circled around to bump robotic shoulders with Bucky causing Sam an immediate sharp flare of jealousy in his gut. Yo-Yo and Bucky shared too many similarities for Sam to not see her as a potential threat for Bucky’s time and affection.  

“Bucky was just showing us how to play the tummy pipes.”  Sam said, his words slightly slurred.  His laughter stopped abruptly.

Sam’s smile fell away and Bucky noticed immediately.  He glanced briefly to Shaw draped over Sam before he was somber as well, leaving Thor confused as to what exactly was happening.

“Oh-kaaaay.” Shaw drawled as he picked his head off of Sam’s shoulder, leaving his arm curled around Sam's neck.  Sam was confused, Shaw was Bucky’s friend, they’d met maybe 4 times total, but if Sam were to guess, he’d bet he was less intimidating to use as a prop than the once-king of Asgard or a super soldier.

Yo-Yo raised an eyebrow.  “It seems like we need to catch up with you guys.  I could smell you from a foot away.”

Shaw hummed in agreement even though he was clearly ahead of Yo-Yo too if his inability to stand up straight was any indication.  “Valkyrie went off for more, but I fear that she does not intend to share anything she finds.” Thor said, sounding vaguely disappointed.  “So I must go and fetch us another round!” He looked very proud of himself for thinking of that as he turned and strode away.

“He is amazing.”  Shaw sighed, “What’s his deal anyway?  Why doesn’t he stay here full-time?”

Bucky glared at Shaw and Sam watched on in confusion.  So now it’s not just Yo-Yo he has to worry about, now Bucky has a thing for Thor?  Sam (not for the first time) thinks sadly, that he’s just a man.  He’s no Inhuman, he has no enhancements, he’s from plain old Harlem, not some mythical planet, and he can’t call lightning with a thought.  He’s just Sam and maybe all he would do is slow Bucky down. So zoned out, Sam jerked when Shaw and Bucky laughed, making the room wobble unpleasantly. His obvious distraction just caused them to laugh harder while Yo-Yo’s lips curled into a small smile.

Sam, who realized he was the butt of some joke, flipped them off, making Shaw start all over again, finally taking his arm off Sam’s shoulder to cradle his midsection as he bent forward, cackling madly.

Thor returned with a tray full of shot glasses.  “Let us drink!”

“Damn big guy, you do not mess around, do you?”  Shaw sounded awestruck as he straightened up and Sam was not at all bitter about everyone’s obsessions with Thor.

Yo-Yo and Bucky grabbed two apiece, taking them in rapid succession just a hint of redness on their cheeks indicating that they were drinking anything other than water.

Shaw grabbed two shots, holding one out to Sam smiling wide, “Us normies gotta stick to our singles.  I can’t believe we’re more meat and no tech and still manage to be the lightweights.”

Sam laughed at Shaw’s dig, even as he seethed inside at Bucky leaning down to murmur something to Yo-Yo, eyes on Sam the whole time.  Thor ignored all of them in favor of knocking two shots back one-handed, looking disappointed at their flavor.

Sam, now unable to remember exactly how much he had already had, felt that being upright was overrated and sat down, hard.  Bucky glanced at him in concern, opening his mouth to ask if Sam was alright, but Sam glared back insolently and Bucky’s jaw snapped shut and he turned back to Yo-Yo who had been watching them in amusement.

Shaw grabbed two of the last four shots and again passed one down to Sam, shrugging.  “To bad choices!”  

Sam quickly echoed the toast and gulped the offered drink before clumsily getting off the floor, not finding it comfortable craning his neck up at everyone.  Yo-Yo ambled away, tray in hand, clearly off to refill it. Sam saw Bucky moving out of his peripheral vision, but by the time he turned his head to get a proper look, Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

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

Sam squeezes his eyes shut as he realizes that the last person he can remember talking to was that irksome weirdo, Deke Shaw.  Bucky had left him at the party alone with Shaw, clearly chasing after Yo-Yo. Sam is gripped by a combination of self-loathing and envy that almost chokes the air from him. He will never forgive himself if he has tumbled into bed with that asshole.  This whole situation is entirely backwards. He’s pining after a grumpy, nerdy, absolutely gorgeous white boy from the past, not a strange, trouble-magnet from god-knows-when in the weird-ass future.  

Sam knows who he wishes it was behind him.  Every day he tries his hardest to be the best friend (who is he kidding, he’s doing a great boyfriend audition and has been for months) to Bucky.  After living together for almost a year, they have a certain bond, but not quite the type Sam wants.  He thinks Bucky wants it too, most of the time, but Sam knows better than to try and rush something before its’ time.  Sam’s father always told him that anything worth having was worth waiting for if necessary and James Barnes was definitely worth having.

The person behind him snores loudly once, before Sam feels a hand reach around his middle, drawing him back into a firm torso.  Sam freezes immediately, afraid to look down and finally solve the mystery. The body he's trapped against is mostly warm. Mostly, because Sam can definitely feel the not-quite-cool smoothness of what Sam will bet everything he owns is vibranium against his shoulder blade.

Sam relaxes and very slowly, smiles.  All of the hatred at himself for possibly ending up with anyone else leaves him as almost quickly as it came.  He can't wait for Bucky to tell him everything.  Or Thor.  Or even Yo-Yo, even though Sam will make Bucky do all the talking if that's the route they have to go.  Sam is willing to bet he has some interesting message on his phone if he bothered to check it (If it was even still on at this point, who knows how late in the day it is).  Knowing that he’s lying here with Bucky surrounding him makes the not remembering much easier. He has no regrets other than not committing every single detail of the previous night to memory to constantly replay over and over and over again.

Satisfied that it is indeed Bucky he’s woken up with (Sam breathes in deep and could slap himself, how did he not smell the traces of his own body wash?  Bucky is always stealing it instead of using his boring bar of soap and smelling himself on Bucky drives Sam crazy) makes it easy to let his eyes fall shut and let the hangover pass. His best friend (and maybe, hopefully, probably, finally more) is curled around him keeping out the noise and light of the world and Sam needs to sleep this hangover off.  He smiles to himself as he focuses on the soft snores and drifts into a peaceful sleep. Sam knows that everything is going to be just dandy.

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x11: B.Y.O.B

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Chapter Summary: Parties were never your thing, so a little bit of liquid courage is in order.

Warnings: underage drinking, a car accident, drinking and driving, jail, underage drinking and driving, alcoholism, partially unedited writing. Drink legally and responsibly, everyone.

Word count: 4,000

A/N: Another episode down and we're officially halfway done with the first season! Next is One Man and a Baby and then one of my all-time favorites-- Slumber Party! :)

Feedback is incredibly appreciated! :)

"Why is it that guys get so macho when it comes to their cars?" Brenda rolls her eyes holding her red binder at her chest, all three of you strolling down the halls together.

"I think it's an extension of their you-know-whats," Kelly interjects.

"Party hotline! Cancel everything because we are having a blowout tonight!" Donna exclaims. She pops up behind Brenda, her blonde hair bouncing. "My parents left for Cabo San Lucas this morning!"

"Who's coming?" Kelly asks as Donna pulls the three of you to a corner in the hall.

"Oh, I don't know. We'll keep it private, strictly A-list!" She enthuses.

"Can I ask Dylan?" Brenda inquires, a smirk lacing her lips.

"Ooh, hot and heavy!" Donna teases.

"Just make sure you change the sheets in the guest house, Donna," Kelly giggles.

"Goodbye," Brenda laughs, starting off into the hall.

"Brenda, bring him!" You call out.

"Yeah, there's always room for one more cute guy!"

-

"Brandon, I don't want to go to this party by myself!" Brenda rants, her hands on her hips.

"I said I'd drive you there," Brandon's lying down on his bed, tossing a basketball in the air above him.

"No! You have to come in with me. Look, just stay ten minutes," she argues, "If you completely hate it you can leave." The throwing of the ball halts as he looks at her.

"What if I only mildly hate it?"

"Then you have to stay for an hour. But you won't hate it because Y/N'll be there," She smirks. He perks up at your name, and pulls himself up, sitting against his headboard. "Weren't you complaining this morning about being bored and in a total rut anyway?"

"Everyone's just so Beverly Hills."

"Brandon, we're Beverly Hills," She counterpoints. He looks to the side of her, pondering.

"I'll think about it."

-

You anxiously fidget with your hair, trying to get it to look completely perfect before Brandon and Brenda come. You had to look good tonight.

You hear the doorbell ring and immediately dash downstairs, your feet pounding against the plush carpeted stairs. You pounce over to the door, but you watch in slow motion as your dad opens the door. He's greeted by your friend who was clearly not Brenda, and clearly not a girl. You shove your way in front of your dad and shoot as innocent of a smile you can muster.

Your father's eyebrows go up, “Who--"

"Brandon-- this is Dad, Dad-- this is Brandon. See you in the morning! Love you!" You work your way out the door and slam it behind you before anyone can get a word in. He gives you a peck on the lips as you walk to the car.

-

"Brandon, here you go-- Specialty of the house. Mucho Marvelous Mango Margaritas!" Steve laughs, pouring a thick frothy liquid into a glass and holding it out to him. Music pumps throughout the mansion, as kids you faintly recognize from school dance around.

"No, thanks."

"Alright, a man who doesn't like his drinks sweet. That's cool, Donna's got a stocked bar. What about you, Y/N/N?"

"I'll just have a Coke," Brandon rejects.

"Me too, actually," you nod. Steve's jaw drops and his eyes bug out like you just insulted his firstborn child. He scoffs, shaking his head.

"A Coke?"

"Leave them alone, Steve. They don't want to drink, big deal," Kelly protests, her fingers twisting around the stem of her Martini glass.

"Yeah, I think that Brandon's afraid there's a wild man lurking inside'uh him," Donna's date adds, laughing gregariously. Who the hell was this guy and why was he here?

"Well, at least let me make you guys some virgin margarita," Steve jumps back in, eyebrows up.

"Whatever," Brandon shrugs.

"That's fine.”

-

Steve hands your drinks off happily, the alcohol having a clear and goofy effect on him. Or he was just being Steve because honestly there wasn't a huge difference.

"Here you go, virgins!"

"Steve!--" Brandon starts.

"Whaaat? I meant the drinks!" Sure. You take a sip, letting the intended mango flavor fill your tastebuds. He definitely knew how to make a good margarita.

-

"Brandon, what are you doing out here?" Brenda's heels click against the concrete as she joins her brother out on the patio, drink in hand.

"Hey Bren," he greets her, "How many of those have you had?"

"This is my second, mom. Why don't you have a real one?"

"Because I'm the designated mom," he giggles. He turns his head back to the window, noticing Steve and Kelly getting awfully close to each other as he nibbles her ear. "I didn't know Steve and Kelly were back together."

"Look, it's a party, they're allowed to have fun and talk and stuff," she shrugs. "Hey, why aren't you having fun and talking and stuff with Y/N? I figured you'd be out here with her."

"I haven't been able to find her, I lost her about 20 minutes ago at the bar.”

"I haven't seen her either, what do you think she’s up to?”

-

"Oh! Theeere you are! I've been wandering around this place for 30 minutes and I still don't think I've seen the whole house yet!" You set your margarita down and you wrap your arms around Brandon's neck to steady yourself, "But somehow Steve has managed to find me in every room, so at least my drink never went empty!"

"Don't drink anymore, okay? They were spiked," he warns. You nod nonchalantly. "And I guess you know that already.”

"I knew that, but if you knew that why are you still drinking it?" Your index finger pokes him on the front of his shoulder.

"One or two won't hurt," he shrugs. Not even sweet wholesome Brandon was immune to peer pressure, apparently. "You wanna dance?"

-

"I'm serious, Kelly and Steve!" You giggle, the alcohol was coursing through your veins. Brandon stopped at two, but you had three or... maybe it was four. Well, however many you had, it left you feeling fantastic.

"I cannot believe it! I mean, all Kelly talks about is how much she cannot stand him!" Brenda laughs. Mondale, driven by Brandon, slows down into the driveway.

"All women want is sex!" He jokes, "It's disgusting."

"Oh, yeah yeah yeah!" Brenda laughs, slapping the side of his coat repeatedly. You hop out of the car and hold onto Brandon's arm to steady yourself as you stumble up the driveway.

"Shhh, straighten up, guys," Brandon whispers, "You know mom's sitting on the sofa reading that same book she was reading when we were in eighth grade." You enter through the front door with them and step into the living room, your heels clacking against the hardwood.

"Hi mom," Brenda smiles. Cindy's curled up on the couch in a fuzzy baby blue robe, and a thick book in her lap.

"Oh, hi! I just got so into this novel. It was so good I couldn't put it down," She fibs.

"Well, I'm zoned," he sighs. "Goodnight," Brandon presses a kiss to your cheek and starts up the stairs.

"Me too, actually. Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight, Mrs. Walsh," you thank her and follow at your friend's feet. Slipping off your shoes before you get up the stairs, you trip into Brenda's room and pass out for the night.

-

"He has been bugging me all week!" Kelly complains, "I am never taking another sip of alcohol again." You lean back into the metal lockers.

"Well, what did you think was going to happen when you went into the bedroom?" Donna deprecates.

"Fifteen minutes of fun... lifetime of regret," she sighs. She hasn't stopped complaining about Steve all night, and as much as you felt bad for her... it was kind of funny.

"Well, I regret kissing my mother goodnight," Brenda chimes in, "she smelled my breath and I was this close to being grounded for the whole time they're out of town." Donna looks at her pointedly, her eyebrows up.

"When are they leaving?"

"They left this morning," you answer.

"For how long?" Kelly asks.

"Today, tomorrow, and through the weekend," Brenda discloses.

"So, what time should we tell the people to get there?" 

"I wish," Brenda scoffs.

"Come on, you're not having a party?"

"What's the problem?" 

"Well, he's just about our age and his name starts with a B," you comment, "He'd never agree to it."

-

"So, which do you want? Chicken tacos or chow main with tangy mustard sauce?" Brenda holds out two TV dinners to her brother as you snack on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"How 'bout a bologna sandwich?" He suggests dryly. She sets the dinners down with a thud.

"Make me one too, will you?" 

Brandon gets up from the kitchen island and opens the fridge. "Man, ten whole hours and they haven't called to check up on us yet," he says.

"That's because they know Mr. Responsible is on the job," Brenda teases, "did I mention to you that we're having a party here this weekend?"

"You we or us we?" He looks between you both.

"You we," you state, finger jutting out to the twins.

"Forget it," he laughs sourly.

"Brandon, come on. We'll keep it small. Strictly A-list like Donna did!" Brenda pleads.

"Forget it! What if mom and dad find out, huh?" He slaps the bread down onto the counter, not breaking eye contact with his sister.

"They won't! We'll clean up everything before they get home. Besides, I already told Kelly to spread the word," She argues, eyes widened and arms crossed.

"Well, tell her to unspread it! Did you know about this, Y/N/N?"

"Look, I'm not in charge of her, I just enable it," you shrug playfully, and Brandon almost cracks a smile. "I'm probably not even gonna go, anyway. I'm still partied out from last weekend."

"Brandon, it's our turn. Y'know, throwing a party when your parents are out of town is practically a tradition in Beverly Hills. It's a great way to let people get to know you, it puts you on the map!" She watches as he basically throws the bologna onto the bread. "You're worried about people drinking, aren't you? The rules thing."

"It crossed my mind," he admits.

"Nobody said we have to be drinking. Other people can do what they want, they don't have the same rules as we do,"

"Brenda, I promised mom and dad--"

"Brandon, you owe me one!"

"But I don't really think--"

"Oh, come on! Don't you get tired of always trying so hard to do the right thing?!" He huffs, defeated.

"Yeah."

"So, what are you afraid of? Let's have a party."

-

"Refill?" Steve's standing in front of you with a pitcher of spiked punch, watching as you stare down Brandon talking to his friends across the living room. "Or are you thirsty for something else?"

"Shut up," you hold your cup out to him and he fills it to the brim. Pop music blasts through the house. "If I didn't know any better I would think you're trying to get me blitzed."

"And if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to get blitzed. Something going on?"

"That's the thing. There's nothing going on! We made out a few weeks ago and now nothing! It's like it never happened!" You jeer. You raise the clear plastic cups to your lips and start to down whatever that god-awful drink was.

"Brandon's not a man of action when it comes to these things, so you have to be. He's too tame. You have to be the one doing the pouncing. But-- hey, if you don't succeed, I'm always available," he winks. You roll your eyes as he fills your cup for the third time that night.

-

You're dancing with Brandon in the living room, the alcohol beginning to fully set in.

"Soo, are you glad you came?" He asks.

"I haven't made up my mind yet," you tease, "let's see how the rest of the night goes first."

"Well, I'm glad you came. I like you-- I mean I like seeing you. Here. With me. Like this," he rambles. He was... infinitely drunker than you were, so you decided to take everything he was saying with a grain of salt... or was it sand? A grain of sand? No, it was definitely salt. Was it a pinch of salt, though? He cuts off your ridiculous internal argument off with a tequila flavored kiss. You push him off you almost reflexively.

"Brandon, stop," You reprimand, "you're wasted!"

"So?"

"So, I've never seen you this drunk before, and I don't want you doing anything stupid."

"Why do you have to analyze everything I do? I finally get to a place where I can just kick back and no can handle it," he spits out, words slurring aggressively.

"Because you aren't handling it!" You cross your arms over your chest and huff, "I need another drink."

-

After three more refills, you decided Steve might be right-- you have to take that boy head on-- and begin to confidently stride... well, stagger over to him. Until another person catches your eye.

"Dylan, hi!" You take a sharp left and greet your friend with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Y/N/N," He greets you, "Have you been drinking?"

"Un piquito," you giggle.

"How about laying off the liquid tonight, huh? I don't think this is your best idea,"

"Dylan, I've got it under control, okay?"

He didn't believe you for a second. Your breath smelt like a rejected tequila flavor, you were slurring all over the place, and with the way you put your hands on his chest, there was no way you could've been anywhere near sober.

"I'm not so sure that's true. Come with me to the kitchen, okay? We can get you some coffee, some water. Chill out and get you sobered up," he slides your hands off of him and puts them at your sides.

"I don't need to sober up," you dismiss, "What I need is... air. Excuse me," you push past him, grabbing your coat. You're out of the front door, feeling the immediate, albeit mild bite of the cold air on your skin. You watch as a few cars pull out of the driveway and you embark on your drunken mission to be anywhere but there.

Dylan pulls the curtain to the side of the window, peeking out onto the front lawn as Brenda approaches him. "Bren, I'll be right back," he kisses her quickly and darts out the front door, racing down the direction where he assumed you went.

You're grumbling to yourself about "stupid boys" and "stupid Steve" and "stupid Brandon" as you stomp down the sidewalk, not paying any mind to the swerving maniac on the road and the tires that were squealing like pigs. You shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, rolling your eyes from the sound of the consistent horns.

You pause for a beat, brushing your hair out of your face and inhaling the fresh air. You could still taste that terrible punch. Your eyes are closed, hoping it would help soothe the churning in your stomach and the headache from the music. But when you open your eyes, and you're met with the worst thing you could've imagined.

A pickup truck zooms out in front of a Mercury Cougar and all that you could process as the Mercury collides with the side of the truck is the screaming of the brakes. And the smashing of the windshield. And the smoke. Way too much smoke.

-

"Brenda, what happened?" Mr. Walsh sits in the waiting room with his daughter and his wife as they try to hash out the timeline of the events.

"He was driving alone, so I don't really know. Y/N was the only one that saw it and--" she swallows, "--Dylan's outside trying to calm her down right now. She's still pretty shaken up, she was in total hysterics when he found her."

-

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dylan looked down into your sore, red, and puffy eyes with a kindness and tenderness you never would have expected from a guy like him.

"I'm fine. Really. I just want to go talk to him," you assure him.

"If that's what you want. I'll be out here, just buzz me when you're ready to go," he pulls you in for the umpteenth hug that morning and releases you to walk into the station. You hated police stations. Nothing good ever happened there and if you never came back it would be too soon. Your bare feet are cold against the concrete floors, and while it was gross, you just couldn't walk in heels anymore. Your feet stung and you hadn't slept at all. So, really, anyone who had something to say about your dressing options was going to be met with a total and utter breakdown that no one should have to see.

When you walked into the waiting room, you saw him. His head was down, his face was cut up and bruised, and you weren't sure whether to hug him and never let go, or beat the living daylight out of him for scaring you and being so stupid. Both? He lifts his head to look at you, and his glazed over gaze softens.

"Mom, Dad, can you give us a minute?" His voice cracks as he speaks, partially from being tired. They give somber agreeing nods and head out the door, Cindy giving you a comforting hand on your shoulder as she walks out. "Y/N, I--" You inhale a quick uneven breath before cutting him off.

"Come here," you pull him into you, fighting the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, and he wraps his arms around you. You set your head on his shoulder. You stay like that for a moment, thankful that he was alive and okay and breathing. But you remember that you wouldn't be this thankful and upset if he wasn't drinking and driving in the first place. That bastard!

You shove him off of you abruptly, "What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Wh-- what?"

"I thought you were dead, Brandon! I saw you hurtle into that truck and--" your voice is straining against your throat, "I've never been so scared in my entire life. Look, I don't know what's going on with you... but if this is what the rest of our relationship has in store for us, I'd rather not stick around to see it. I'm... done. I'm out." He swallows hard, and you begin to wonder whether or not you're still drunk. Were you going to regret this once you got sleep and started thinking like a rational human?

"What do you mean you're out?" He sets a hand on your waist as you go to step back from him.

"I'm done. With whatever this thing was or-- or wasn't. At least until you're yourself again. Because this isn't you, and you and I both know that." You turn on your heel and walk straight out of the door as he calls after you.

-

You walk into the kitchen of the Peach Pit as Brandon is hard at work, setting up the dishwasher after closing time. The last thing you wanted to do was see him, but for his sake, you had to. Stupid cute idiot boy and his stupid wellbeing.

"Hey, B," he jumps at your voice as you lean against the doorframe. He's hunched over, setting dishes down with a clank.

"How'd you--"

"Nat," you answer. You pop yourself up onto the turquoise counters. "Brenda told me everything worked out alright at the hearing?"

"Yeah, in three weeks I can apply for permission to drive to and from work and school. But until then it's back to bicycle basics," he sighs.

"Well, look at it this way: you were lucky,"

"I know," he turns to face you, a sour note behind his voice, "I'm lucky I wasn't killed."

"I was actually going to say you're lucky you didn't kill someone else, but that works too, I guess."

"Yeah, I gotta look on the bright side right?" He snarls sarcastically. You begin to approach him closer.

"Or the dark side," you propositioned.

"Most people think I don't even have one," he snorts. You take a step closer and when he stands up completely, you're flush to him.

"Oh, sweetheart, everyone has one. You just hide it better than most," he meets your eyes for the first time that night. "You're not doing so well, huh?"

"Have you ever spent the night in jail?"

"That's one experience I've had the pleasure of avoiding," you laugh singularly. The eye contact between you two is intense, emotional, palpable. You'd never seen him so mad and honestly? You were kind of digging it.

"It's... indescribable," he bellows, "twenty minutes in a cell alone feels like twenty years. It's unreal."

"Scary?"

"No, what was scary was when I hit that truck. I thought I was gonna die, Y/N/N. And I can't get that-- that sound outta my head and I'm sick of every--" he seethes, "y'know, my parents have been cool but it's like there's still this big cloud looming over my house with this huge neon sign flashing the word 'Disappointment!'"

"I'm pretty well-acquainted with that cloud," you comment.

"Why does everything I do have to affect them so much?!"

"You're their son," you shrug.

"But it's my life, right? I swear, I feel like going out right now and getting drunk just to show them I can do what I want." Oh, how sweet. Brandon's going through a little rebellious phase.

"I know just the place, B,"

-

You take his hand as you lead him down West Beverly, the halls uncharacteristically empty.

"Where are we goin', Y/N/N? I see enough of this place during the day,"

Wordlessly, you bring him to the doorway of a crowded classroom. A girl stands up. You wave briefly to Dylan, who's sitting directly to the left of you.

"Hi, I'm Katie. And I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Katie."

Dylan stands, "Hey, I'm Dylan-- and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Dylan."

"Uh, hi. I'm Y/N, and I'm an alcoholic."

-

You sit in your brother's Ferrari at the edge of the Walshes driveway.

"I never knew so many kids had a problem," Brandon sighs, "I'm sorry. I’ve been a total jackass. How are you feeling?”

"I'm getting there. It's just been a rough few days. Are you okay?"

"I am now," he nods.

"I'm sorry too," you apologize, "I totally blew up at you the other night but... I still meant what I said. I don't want to start anything till you've got everything under control. I'm not letting bad timing mess up what we've got."

"No, it's fine. I get it," he sighs, "I care about you way too much to screw this up. And I've already done enough screwing up this week for a whole lifetime. But if you ever want to talk about..."

"I know. You'll be there," you smile. Kissing his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Goodnight, Brandon."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

-

-

-

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz​ @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life

[angelfiume]

Mouth Like A Sailor Part 1

Hey so I have no idea how to publish a fanfic on tumblr besides just putting it up like this so hopefully this goes well.  I was posting on qoutev but it kept crashing my computer so tumblr it is.

Marlena Curtis May 1965 5 months before    "I hope all of you will take this summer to exercise your minds... You wouldn't want to go into your senior year with a head full of nothing, would you?"  Mr. Mays shouted at the class, he wasn't angry, just obnoxiously loud.  I looked across the room at my brother's best friend, Steve, hoping to have someone to smile with or pass a note too, but he obviously was not interested and instead was tracing the hand of a short girl with bobbed hair.  She was giggling as he made ugly monster claws out of her manicured fingers, it was kind of sweet honestly.  I sighed and leaned back in my chair, looking around the room for anyone else that might be alright with me.  Mr. Mays voice quieted as he saw no one really cared about his speech on polishing the young mind, he resulted to letting us free for the rest of the period.  I rested my head on my arms and decided to spend the class just sleeping instead of awkwardly trying to make conversation with the dry, ginger soc next to me.  She seemed like she wasn't very interested anyways.    The bell rung two minutes in to my daydream, which couldn't have made me happier, I jumped out of my seat and yanked my bag with me out the door.  Finally I could just do jack-shit and paint my nails instead of listening to the same monotone creeps lecture for hours and hours.  I nearly ran down the hallway towards my friends, Sophie and Jean, they were talking fast and smiled big when they saw me running down to see them.    "MARLI, tell your brother you're gonna be at my house tonight baking cookies or some sweet shit, Gene Vincent is gonna be at Sophie's cousin's bar tonight in Oklahoma City!  Her cousin said we can all get in no sweat."  Jean said, she was so excited her heavy eyeliner was creasing from smiling so wide.       

  "Holy shit, Sophie did your cousin really say we can go?  How much money?" I asked with a small twinge in my stomach, the past few months have been pretty tough on my wallet, I really wanted all my money to go into my younger brother's secret college fund.   

 "None baby!  That's a perk of having friends with connections, just pitch in two bucks or so for gas, my daddy is letting me take the Malibu, ain't that exciting?" Sophie cooed, she had this soft voice that could have sounded polite even if she was telling you where it seemed your head was stuck.  She was   rich too, man her family did well.  But she was still my friend, because she didn't care if I lived in a hollowed out coat closet my brother set up for me, she didn't believe in the social class war going on.    

  "I'm in man!  I'll tell Darry I'm going to have a sleepover with ya'll, he won't ask questions, he's too wrapped around the axel with Soda right now."  I grinned at them and listened quietly to the rest of their chatter.  They could get awful excited about something real fast, it was damn cute.     

 We walked out to Jean's boyfriends car, he was a doll, always chauffeuring her and her friends around Tulsa.  Speaking of the devil, Tommy came sprinting down the concrete steps and bear-hugged tiny Jean, making her scream and laugh.  

    "Hello sweetheart, ready to be done with the bullshit for a whole 2 months?" he was another one of those guys that seems to really just shout instead of talk, he nodded to Sophie and I and smiled nicely, "ya'll hangin' or goin' home?" 

   "I can stay a little, we're supposed to be in the City by 9 and we gotta leave at 7 or so.." Sophie chirped    

   "Just straight home for me, thanks, I gotta make an appearance so Darry doesn't get suspicious"  I knew full well that he would expect the worst if I never showed up at home.    I jumped down from Tommy's pick- up and yelled to Jean I would be at her house at 630.  I smoothed out my black corduroy skirt and re-tucked the ratty pink shirt I had owned since 9th grade.  My sneakers crunched down the gravel covering the alley behind my house as I walked towards the backward, where I heard my brother and their friends.  Not even the whole gang was there, but it was still loud as hell.     

          "Hey Marls how was the last day of school?  I  miss anything important?" laughed Two-bit, the rusty haired boy lay lazily on our back steps.      

           "Ha, it was fine, you didn't miss anything important.  Just that Mark guy offered me a whole year supply of marijuana if I would flash the principal at the assembly this morning"  I told him as I took a carton out of my bra and lit a smoke, I giggled a little when I saw him cock an eyebrow.  The nimrod probably thought I went through with it.     

           "So ya did it right?"  Demanded a bored looking Dallas Winston.  He sat next to my twin Soda, who was laughing quietly to himself, he probably knew I was too much of a wimp to leave school one some crazy note like that.   

           "Nah," I took a long drag, "I could get that shit for free by just winking at some of the squares in this town... But anyways, where did Darry go?  He working late or something?"   

           "No, he should be home in ten minutes or so, you gonna bail soon?" Soda asked   

            "Around 6ish I'm going over to Jean's, Sophie and I are gonna spend the night with her."  I told him without much worry, I was used to making up white lies at this point, Soda would likely not even care that I was going into the big city tonight, maybe he'd even think it was tuff I was sneaking off to a high class bar with my socy friends.   

             "Ain't Jean that middle-class broad with the giant jugs?" Dally half-joked, it was almost a long running gag that we had, since he couldn't make a move on me, being three of the gangs' sister, he has always tried his best to get at my friends.    I just rolled my eyes and took another drag of my cigarette, lettings the boys' conversation go this way and that and just listen.  That's kinda been my go-to lately, when my mom and dad died three months ago I lost a lot of my talkative edge.  Shit it's been three months already... I pushed my body lightly off of the side of the house and dragged myself inside.  My room really was just a scraped out coat closet.  I ain't gonna complain too bad about it though, Darry really did make it alright and it wasn't even too small of a closet to begin with.  Hell, if we were able to fit my little mattress and even my record player I bought when I was 11, it can't have been that bad.  My stomach was beginning to feel a little green, I had been smoking like a chimney since I got home, and my room ain't too breezy so that tobacco stench really liked to hang around.   

           "Marlena?" I heard my oldest brother knocking at my door, he opened it and immediately looked a little peeved, "Oh lordy!  Did ya just set a whole carton of marbolos on fire?  It's a goddamn wildfire in here, you keep smoking like this and I'm gonna have to start checking what you buy at the store now, ya dig?"    

           "Yeah, I know.  Hey Darry?"  I said, without the slightest intention of cutting down on my habit, "I'm gonna go to Jean's tonight, Sophie will be there too, that cool?"    "That's fine" he said walking back to the kitchen.  I followed him out and just followed suit, he got a glass of water, I got one too.  We didn't even talk the whole time,  he's kinda been quiet lately too.  When our parents died in that accident everyone took on a different kind of burden, but sometimes I think Darry feels like he took the whole load, and maybe that's why he's so damn stressed. Coming home from the funeral with my brothers felt like I had just taken a few strangers from the graveyard and said "you'll do."  Darry used to be that real fun, hilarious older brother.  We used to go out all the time and just talk about everything.  We would talk about how mom was a little too harsh sometimes on people and that it was pretty funny that dad would just push her buttons when she would get annoyed by the little things.  My youngest brother, Ponyboy, well he just downright terrifies me the way their deaths changed him.  He didn't use to be so dreamy all the time, he always had a big imagination, but this time it's different, he tried to follow mom and dad's souls up to heaven and got stuck somewhere between space and the East Side.  Sodapop though, he seemed to take it the healthiest, he wasn't shy about bawling and howling like an idiot at the funeral.  He had to express how he felt, so he did.  But one thing that did change was the side of him people usually forgot about started to rear its ugly head just a little more every once in a while.  Soda is charming and nice, but he's also reckless and clumsy and he won't look before he just starts running.  I'm not trying to  but my brothers in  a bad light though, I certainly haven't been perfect since the accident either.

             Jean's dad was in the army, and her mom was a nurse, so they got along pretty okay.  She wasn't by any means rich, but she surely never had a shortage of cash by the end of the month.  Her house was just a quick bus ride from my neighborhood, it was two stories, well kept, and all the bathrooms were pink.  I knocked on the door and not even a second later it was the bermuda triangle of "can you answer that?" between her and her parents.  It was her mom who came to the door, she was a real neat lady.  Joan's mom was actually real tough, she had a hard life as a kid and she don't have the easiest job in the world.

    "Hello Marls!  Don't you look like a doll tonight?"  She smiled up at me, I am pretty tall for a girl and I usually tower over most ladies I meet. 

   "Thank-you Mrs. Massey, it's just my school clothes, but I figured it would be alright for tonight, ha," I tried my best to sound like a nice girl, but she was just so damn down to earth I really don't think she'd judge me too harsh.  She let me in and walked me all the way to Jean's room, asking about my brothers and if Pony was proud of himself that he came in 2nd at his last track meet.  It was nice talking to a mom.

      Jean popped up from the floor when I walked in, "You ready to leave soon?  I just gotta find my lipstick and Sophie will be here soon, we're gonna get burgers at Dairy Queen on the way out of  town, my mom gave me food money if any of us need."  she spoke briskly and with a butt-load of excitement. 

   "Yeah I'm all set" I giggled quietly as she threw tubes of makeup to the floor trying to find her token lipstick. She got it and we tumbled down the stairs just as Sophie was pulling up to the house.

[darlingstarstuff]

dream journal. 59.

july 16th, 2019

oof, so i guess i got a little bit of everything last night. some dreams, a dash of lucidity, and a nightmare to boot that ended up just being fantastical mishmash in the end. i actually tried drinking some apple juice before bed because i grew up with the information that apples help with dreaming. uh. well, i think i’m going to go back to my tea, haha.

the first dream was a little strange. i was on the sidewalk of a semi-busy street. there were other people walking around, minding their own business. then all of a sudden people were stopping and announcing they were seeing angel numbers, all different types of numbers. and, like a video game, they got different rewards just plopped into their hands depending on what angel numbers they say they got. i watched. i didn’t say anything, and i didn’t get any prizes.

wake up, jot it down on my phone, go back to sleep, it’s still the middle of the night. i have another work dream, it’s nothing upsetting or crazy like my previous work dreams. we have a case filled with pastries for people to look at and buy from. a man comes up, points to the case and tells me he wants the branch of sea grapes in there. i stare at him, my hands on my hips. i tell him we don’t sell sea grapes here- that’s a bit absurd right? but my supervisor comes in. and grabs tongs to… pluck a thick branch of sea grapes out of the case. she hands them to me to give to the customer. you know in the office were they stare into the camera? in that moment, i feel like that. defeat, but to someone watching (aka me now) it’s actually pretty funny.

i have another dream. this time i’m sitting down at a dining table with my shift (i don’t know why i have so many dreams with her? maybe it’s because i work with her every time i go into work no questions asked) and we’re just chatting and eating breakfast. it feels like a saturday morning. someone is in the living room watching tv, but i don’t know who. this is definitely shaped after my aunt’s house- who i actually visited after work yesterday. anyway, we talk, through the context of the conversation it seems my shift has been rooming with my mom, and she’s complaining. and i’m empathizing. i don’t wish that on anyone. the tv-watcher comes into the room, i don’t even remember what they look like, in my mind’s eye, they’re just a black silhouette, and suddenly they’re talking about lucidity, and what they do to fo lucid. my brain connects the dots, i gain some lucidity but not enough. i wake up any anyhow.

i wake up at 6:40 am, go to the bathroom, come back. it takes a little longer to fall asleep. maybe ten minutes. i’m thinking this is the perfect opportunity, but unfortunately i get a nightmare instead. i don’t exactly remember where the dream begins, but i do remember when shit hit the fan. you know the game amnesia? it starts off similarly, but i feel like the basis of this nightmare was in a japanese horror pixel game called from next door. ugh, now that i think about it, it definitely was. when i first watched it, i had to fight to keep the image of the monster out of my head when i slept. it was an ugly, wrinkly imp creature, but it’s eyes is what scared me. wide, never blinking, veined. the smile didn’t help. i didn’t get any nightmares immediately so i thought it was done and over with. but tonight, that’s exactly what i got.

i was even in the same room fashioned from in the game, except there was a dresser of sorts in front of me, good for hiding. but my mind looks past the open door into the dark hallway, and into the darker open door leading into the next room across from me. it took one thought of ‘monster..?” and it comes. it just popped out of nowhere, standing in the doorway of the other room, it’s ugly, horrible eyes staring at me. i become frightened, the light of the room i’m in goes out, and i hide behind the dresser. for one second i think i’m safe but the monster comes around the dresser.

i didn’t have a gun on me, but in dreams whenever i put my hand like one, it acts like a real gun. so i do that, i shoot the thing down. but it disappears and just respawns over and over again. i don’t know but i escape the room. i’m in my old condo. feels like the nightmare’s over but- it isn’t. i found a package addressed to me, i open it. it’s a product of hair dye, very special hardy. it was “animated” hair dye. you know how people make art using people’s heads and dye? it was kind of like that, but somehow once applied, it would loop an animation through the filaments of my hair. i apply it. it would have been cool. except, the animation i found out, was a jump scare, of a creature similar to the one i escape. i’m horrified, i scream- every time the jump scare happens its right in my peripheral vision and there’s a sharp tingle in the back of my head. i hold the hair back so i don’t have to see it, but i can still feel it.

i’m frazzled and almost at my wit’s end. then suddenly my sister comes into my room dressed up at some evil doctor, ready to cut me open. i knew it was a prank, but considering the situation i was so fucking scared, i screamed and pushed her away. my sister in turn becomes hurt and worried, and runs away. i feel bad, but i’m too scared to call her back. i don’t know what to do, so i go to my mom. i show her what’s happened with my hair, the dyed portion is black against my natural brown. my sister comes back but my mom dressed her up in a bonnet and matching dress to be less scary looking. the animation plays, it horrified my mom, i see it in the mirror and there’s a tightness in my chest. we both don’t know what to do. but my mom seems to know where to go. we end up in this large, forbidding place, with a large forbidding room inside.

it’s at this point of the dream where everything i’ve just written becomes forgotten for a new scene- to be honest, i don’t care and i’m glad for it to be gone. there’s me in the room, my sister, and a little boy. his mom is somewhere too. these lycan-hyena monsters come in from the hall to my right. they immediately start attacking me. in this moment though, i’m not scared, in fact i’m ready to fight. there’s a thick hockey stick to the side, i use it to bash some of the monsters around. one grabs the end and crushes it between its teeth though. somehow after that i end up with a whip in my hand. i run around trying to get everything in the room. as i pass, one of the lycans grabs the boy and tries to book it with him. i manage to wrap the whip around the boy’s waist and pull him back to me, and give him to his mother. we all run for it out of the room- into another big room, it looks like a black light bowling ally? and a diner to eat at on the side. i don’t even know man.

you know, i’ve been told my frustration and impatience. i’m feeling it, haha. but i’ll still push through, i have goals and i plan to meet them, however long it takes.

[captaindaddykru]

you hurt the ones you love (i don't believe that)

for @obviesbellarke based on this photo ;)

Raven has always prided herself on her work ethic. She didn’t come from much, her parents did not plan on having a child which about described her relationship with them, and she worked part-time jobs ever since the goverment allowed her to. (Since they put her in the system and the system failed her, she felt like she could pretty much do whatever she wanted to the system. So sometimes she repaid the cards they dealt her by doing some not so legal hacking into college databases to slightly change rich frat boy GPA’s and make some extra cash.) 

It paid off, because now Raven works for NASA and she didn’t even apply for the job. They asked her to come work for them. Who can say NASA asked them to come work for them? Raven Reyes can. Why? Because she is a certified genius who worked her way through high school, and college, and a master degree, and still managed to look halfway attractive, get in thirty minutes of exercise a day and keep a semi-active social life throughout it all. 

She loved her job. She did, but—but it also meant long days, a lot of overtime, even more time spend on business trips and conference calls. If it wasn’t for her boyfriend Zeke working in the same building as her, she’s pretty sure she would never see him either since she barely ever goes home. She just happened to luck out and get the most amazing, understanding and supportive friends in the universe. 

Besides, after spending half her life ‘being friends’ with Finn—who fucked her over and ghosted her after mere nine days apart at different colleges—Raven has come to learn what real friendship is. Emori tags her in a meme at least every other day, Harper brings over fresh vegetables from her and Monty’s garden whenever she looks extra pale and Clarke dutifully keeps her up to date on all her favorite shows she has zero time to watch. They’re as real as it gets. 

Hence, when things start to cross over from a strong work ethic to borderline workaholic slash inevitable burn-out and her boss Sinclair forces her to take two weeks off, she is disappointed when the first three people she asks to hang out on her first free Saturday night that year already have plans. They barely hear from her in months beside a quick ‘what’s up’ in their group chat before she falls asleep on her couch every Saint Glinglin and they have the audacity to not keep their nights free in case she might ask them to hang out sometime? Assholes. 

Since Emori and Murphy are out of town (probably robbing a house or something, she still doesn’t know what they do in their free time), and Harper and Monty have dinner with her parents, Clarke is up next. Raven texts her asking what she is doing that weekend, opening up a bottle of wine before padding over to her living room without a glass. She deserves the entire thing. Raven starts up Netflix on her smart TV while she waits for her friend to reply. 

Twenty minutes deep into an episode of Homeland, her phone buzzes annoyingly on the armrest. 

CLARKE [8:51 PM]:

who’s number is this?

RAVEN [8:54 PM]:

very funny griffin. drinks on saturday?

It takes a surprisingly long time for Clarke to answer her text, even though she isn’t a notorious bad back-texter unlike her boyfriend. One time like two years back, Raven asked Bellamy if he wanted to chip in on Murphy’s birthday present and he still hasn’t replied to this day. She’s pretty sure he isn’t even aware of the fact iMessage exists.

Raven has almost single-handedly finished off a bag of Cheetos before her phone buzzes again. She unlocks her phone to find a photo of a pregnancy test staring back at her, balanced precariously on what she assumes is Clarke’s knee, like the night terrors she used to have in middle school, terrified to end up like the other girls in her neighbourhood, sure a boy even looking at her could knock her up. 

RAVEN [9:08 PM]:

so no drinks then???

The reply comes faster this time, Raven sure that Clarke was just jumping for her to something. Anything.

CLARKE [09:09 PM]:

i just found out and my first instinct was to grab a bottle of beer, i’m fucked

She’s not sure what Clarke wants from her here—that one always had more up her sleeve than expected—a congrats or a condolences, so she settles on the safe middle of comic relief. 

RAVEN [9:10 PM]:

who’s the father?

CLARKE [09:10 PM]:

seriously?

RAVEN [9:11 PM]:

what? thought you two went to that swingers club the other month

CLARKE [09:14 PM]:

that was a teacher’s conference. he begged me to come

RAVEN [9:15 PM]:

i thought YOU begged HIM to come and now we’re in this whole mess?

A reply doesn’t come for two minutes, and then three, and when the clock ticks closer to five minutes, Raven decides to dial her number. It switches over to Facetime, but the screen is black, static commotion of the phone being moved around the only sound between their two devices for a good ten seconds. Finally, she asks, “Clarke?” 

“I didn’t plan for this, Rave,” is the first thing out of her mouth, and Raven has to bite back a smile. Clarke is such a in-the-closet neurotic mess and she missed it. The screen turns very bright, then finally she can make out her friend. From the looks of it, she is on the floor in her bathroom, mascara smudged lightly under her eyes, wavy hair a mess on top of her head. “I haven’t even finished school yet. My NCLEX exam isn’t until next month—“

“Sound like perfect timing to me,” Raven snorts, keeping her tone very bored. Is this all she has? Are these her best arguments? She’s off her game. “You’ll ace the exam, get a few months of nursing experience at the hospital and then you can go on maternity leave. Your mom owns the surgical ward, I’m pretty sure she can make it happen.”

She watches Clarke draw her knees up to her chest, resting her forehead on top of them for a moment before looking back up at her phone. She does look wrecked. Raven hesistates for a second, then inquires, “Have you told him?”

“No,” Clarke replies, and then she is quiet for another second. She sounds softer this time, “What if he doesn’t want this?”

Raven almost cackles out loud. That loser would do anything for her, even if he didn’t want a baby with her—which seemed very unlikely—he would probably go to his grave swearing it was all he ever wanted. Besides, Bellamy has a few years on Clarke, is a well-known mother hen and is practically smitten with his sister’s toddler. (The only pictures he ever posts on social media are either of Clarke, his sister, that bratty little Octavia look-alike, or the three of them together—which was probably Nirvana by his definition.) He was more than ready, Raven’s sure that��his old man primal hormones are just off the charts.

“Fat chance,” Raven settles on, instead of manic laughter because she’s a good friend, eyebrows practically disappearing into her hairline. “You’re talking about Bellamy Blake? The same Bellamy Blake who, when you introduced him to me and I told him I would kick his ass if he ever hurt you, said he couldn’t wait to have your babies someday?”

Clarke scrunches up her nose in disbelief, and Raven wonders if she needs to get her sight checked. Does she not see how that buffoon looks at her? “He said that?”

“Yep,” Raven drags out, seemingly unimpressed.

“He was drunk,” she argues, brushing her off as she runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair. 

“That makes it more true, Clarke, not less,” Raven replies without skipping a beat, can’t help but sound a little tiny bit judgemental just because of who she is as a person. There’s more silence, Clarke chewing on her thumbnail as she stares off in the distance and Raven sighs, softening her voice. “No offense, but why are you complaining to me about this, babe? It isn’t like you to be this insecure.”

Was this not the Clarke Griffin who marched up to their arrogant orange-President-affliated professor and told him he might be an art teacher, but she was an artist? It was a popular meme around their college for weeks, black sunglasses and a animated blunt photoshopped onto her yearbook picture and plastered around the halls. The same Clarke Griffin who punched through a glass window because racist campus police let her go and took Monty into a interrogation room alone after catching the both of them with some weed brownies and still has the scar to prove it? Was she not the Clarke Griffin who got everyone to sign a petition to get Kyle Wick kicked out of school when he tweeted out a sexually suggestive picture of Raven?

“Because you know he’ll be excited,” she presses, aggrevated, blue eyes dark as she stares at her camera as if she can stare straight into Raven’s soul. “And I can’t break his heart and tell him that—”

“That what?” Raven cocks an eyebrow, figuring it’s time for some though love now. “You dont want a baby?”

“No—“ She tries to get it, but Raven doesn’t relent, keeps pressing, “That you don’t want his baby?”

“No!” Clarke blurts out harshly, cutting her off as her eyes brim with tears. “That I didn’t plan for this!” She swallows tightly, and Raven just watches her, chest heaving up and down erraticly, blue eyes darting from left to right as she tries to get her thoughts together.  “You know what happened when I started medical school, why I had to drop out,” her voice finally breaks, lip trembling. “This time, I was going to better. I was going to do it right.”

“You had a nervous breakdown, Clarke,” Raven snaps, tired of the sugarcoating. She was so hard on herself, and Raven still feels the slighest pang of guilt at that because she used to encourage that quality in her, held her to even higher standards. Maybe at first because she was jealous of her, of the golden girl who got everything handed to her. When she realized that wasn’t true, it was more because Raven knew she could be brilliant. Then after everything went down, she realized Clarke had already been brilliant all along. “You were making eighteen hour days, Lexa broke your heart and then your dad died in your arms. I think not having a breakdown over that would’ve qualified you as a sociopath.”

Clarke quickly wipes at the wetness trailing down her cheek, like she is trying to keep Raven from seeing, hugging her knees closer to her chest. Quietly, she sniffs, wondering, “What if it happens again?”

“It won’t. Because you’ve learned you can’t plan everything because life comes at you fast,” Raven says, authoratively, like she’s reading it from the pamphlet her therapist got them back then. “—and to communicate about how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. Eat enough vegetables and sleep enough hours.”

Clarke takes a deep breath, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand as she lets herself nod. Raven can’t help but press, “Isn’t that what you and Bellamy use as foreplay? A good old fashioned emotional conversation?”

Clarke scoffs. “No, like talking shop doesn’t get you and Shaw going.”

Raven lifts a shoulder, indifferent. She’s not going to sit here and pretend like him being able to name every component of a Harvey Davidson motorcycle in alphabetical order doesn’t get her all hot and bothered.

Clarke wipes her palms on her jeans-clad thighs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “What if I’m not any good at this?”

“Then the child will have the most awesome aunt to fall back on,” Raven smirks, and luckily, Clarke finally cracks a smile too. “You’re Clarke fucking Griffin. If this is something that you want—“ She drags out the last word, pausing to get her confirmation (she’s pretty sure it’s something she does want, deep down, but it doesn’t hurt to check before she rolls out the whole peptalk), and reluctantly, her friend nods, corners of her lips turned up almost shyly. “If it’s something that you want, you’ll succeed at it. You care about everyone, Clarke, to a fault.”

Raven finds herself smirking again, pretending to be half-distracted with re-tightening her brace. “And I know it’ll be hard to care about that baby knowing it’s Bellamy’s—“

“Shut up,” Clarke deadpans, and her eyes look brighter, clearer. Tentatively, her hand comes to rest on top of her lower belly, fingers flexing on top of her shirt for just a second. Raven can’t help but smile, happy for her friends. It’s what they deserve.

“You should really call him,” Raven pushes, pursing her lips satisfactory, “He’s going to be so salty you told me before him.”

“Probably,” Clarke snorts, just the slightest bit of nervousness flashing across her eyes before they soften as she says, “But, thanks, Rave. I’m glad to see NASA lets you out on probation every six months.”

“It’s NASA though,” she responds—a little boastful, because it’s NASA, she gets to be boastful—then stretches out her free arm. “Also, mocktails Saturday?”

Clarke beams. “Deal.”

(The next time Raven gets a text from Clarke, it’s a photo of a ring on her finger.)

[psychospeak-blog]

Won’t Go Slowly // 11

One // Two  // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten

A/N:   SO much love to everyone who has been reading this series, liking it, reblogging it, or sending me messages about it.  You all rock!

You just couldn't help it. Every single time you stood in front of a mirror, you found yourself turning to the side, smoothing your t-shirt or dress over you belly, imaging what you'd look like pregnant.

You'd also be lying if you said you'd hadn't found yourself scrolling through pages of nursery furniture on your phone, when you were trying to watch T.V. or after you crawled into bed at night.  You knew, logically, that you weren't at that point yet, but you couldn't stop yourself from imagining.

"This is crazy," Danielle said, looking over your shoulder where you were signing and initialing  the contract that was laid across your kitchen table.  For some reason, you'd expected it to be a simple page but, no, it was a whole freaking booklet, pages and pages of legalese that basically said just the same thing over and over.   You looked up at her, and she was smiling, and you knew instantly that she wasn't talking about just the paperwork.

"I know," you said, finally completely the last page and then stacking all of the papers on top of each other, and then going to look through your purse for a paper clip before you put it back in the envelope because you had a vision of Tyler opening it only to send the papers scattering all over the place, and then having to try and put them back in order.

"I totally knew he was serious," she said.

"What?" you flipped your head back around, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because," she laughed, "I didn't know how you felt about it.  And it wasn't my place to say how I felt."

You sighed just out of instinct now.  It wasn't that your Mom and sister weren't being supportive, but you knew they were hesitant.  You knew they were holding back, that this was what you wanted, but that this wasn't how they expected it to go for you, and the thought of you doing it alone seemed overwhelming.  They weren't downright telling you not to do it, but they weren't as excited as you wanted them to be.  What's worse was that your sister had accidentally let it slip to your Dad, and he didn't even bother trying to hide how he felt.

"Hey," Danielle said, putting her arm around your shoulder, "don't worry about that.  We've got you."

You didn't even have to ask who 'we' was.

"Seriously," she continued, "This kid is going to be so loved, it isn't even funny."

And you knew that was true.  And you knew that you Mom and sister would get excited eventually, but you kind of felt like you just needed a bit of distance for now, to surround yourself with positivity.

So, after Danielle left, you scrolled through 'Babies R Us' on your phone for a few minutes, and then headed over to Tyler's house, that envelope securely on the passenger seat.  Once you got there, you opened the door, immediately to be swarmed with dogs, tails wagging and tongues panting excitedly  and you crouched down saying your hellos.  Yeah, you definately had no shortage of love.

"At least let her get in the door, guys," Tyler laughed, rounding the corner.  

You laughed, standing up, aware of the legal documents in your hand, which should probably not be crushed by paw prints.

"Is that the thing?" Tyler said, gesturing towards the envelope, his eyebrows raised.  

"Yeah," you said, handing it over to him, "So, if you want to look it over with your lawyer and then just get it back to me when you're done."

"Mmmk," he said easily, taking it from you.  You bent over again and thoroughly petted the dogs this time, who were still trailing around your feet. Once they seemed to calm down a little bit, you went where Tyler had gone, discovering him leaning over the kitchen counter, his tongue pulled between his lips as he flipped through the papers.

"What's this about gifts?" he asked, reading something and then looking over at you, "Because, I swear to god, I am buying your kid gifts, I really don't give a fuck what you say."

You laughed, and then frowned because that didn't make any sense at all, taking a look at the portion he was pointing to.  "No, that says I'm not supposed to compensate you with gifts."

"Wait," he pouted at you, "Does that mean you're not going to buy me a birthday gift?"

"No," you laughed again, "just, like, you're agreeing that you understand that you're not going to be compensated in any way."

"Mmmk," he said easily, and then he picked up the pen that you didn't see on the counter and scrawled his name quickly across the bottom of the page.

"What are you doing?" you cried, because you couldn't even move fast enough to stop him.

He blinked, looking at you in confusion, "I thought you wanted me to sign it."

"After you got your lawyer to look at it," you said, running your hand through your hair, trying to troubleshoot, "Do you think we can just, like, rip it up?"

"What is the big deal?" he asked, "I thought you said this was, like, standard.  You didn't get a lawyer."

Yeah, but he had money.  And you assumed that there might be, like, some PR stuff that you'd need to be held to or something.  "You should make sure that I, like, can't sue you or something."

He laughed like he couldn't even believe you were saying that, "You're not going to sue me."

You weren't, of course, but these papers were supposed to protect him just as much as it was supposed to protect you.  

"It's not that complicated," he said, "I'm just giving up my parental - parental, is that a word?"

"Yes," you said.

"I'm giving up my parental rights, and you're not compensating me for anything."

"And you're not required to pay me child support," you added.

"See? It's all in there, you don't need to worry so much," he said, putting his arm around you, "By the way, Danielle said I need to tell you that you've, and I quote, 'got your shit together'."

You laughed, burying your head in his shoulder.

"She's totally right though," he said, and you could feel him looking down at you, just waiting for you to explain.

"My sister accidentally told my Dad I'm going to try and have a baby.  On my own," you said, "And he didn't, I don't know, didn't get why I would want to do that."

"Fuck your dad," Tyler said suddenly, and then seemed to regain himself, "Sorry, but fuck your dad."

You laughed, because it was no secret that you didn't have the closest relationship with your dad, especially since your parents had split when you were young, so you'd been raised pretty much just by your mom.  Now that you thought about it, you supposed that was why your mom was likely hesitant about this whole thing, because she had been a single mother.  But you were also going into this with the knowledge that you would be, and you were prepared for it.  And you also had a great job, with benefits and a childcare centre, so you wouldn't need to try and work multiple jobs like your mom had to try and make ends meet.

"He's probably just jealous," Tyler added, "I'm sure he knows for sure that you're going to be a better Dad AND Mom that he ever was."

"Tyler..."

"I'm serious," he said firmly, "And you know that if you need an actual man to help teach your kid....man stuff, I'm here."

"Man stuff?" you laughed, "what man stuff?"

"Like, fishing and...." he said, "well, that's not really a man thing, really.  I don't know actually.  But I'll buy a book or something."

You laughed again, because you were pretty sure no such book existed, but it really was the thought that counted.  "I just wanted to wait to tell him until after I got pregnant, though," you told him.

"Yeah, don't worry babe, you're going to be pregnant super quick," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "I have really excellent sperm."

"No, you don't," you laughed, pushing him away and you could see him frowning, "I've seen your test results."

"They said it was good," he said, his arm crossed over his chest, and you suspected that this was something that he wanted to brag about to probably everyone, only then he'd have to explain why he actually knew about that, and you knew he wouldn't do that to you.  

"Yeah, it's great," you agreed, "just not off-the-charts spectacular like you seem to think."

"Whatever," he complained, even though he was laughing so you knew he wasn't actually offended, "I'm still going to get you pregnant.  It's my new summer project."

So, at first his summer project was to find you a boyfriend and now it was to get you pregnant?  "Why do your summer projects always have to include me?" you asked, wondering why he couldn't do something normal for a summer project like build a shed or something. It wasn't that you were complaining, of course, but calling it a summer project was just a little too much.

"Because, I don't get to see you much during the season," he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Duh."

**

48 hours.

As you got in your car, ready to drive to work, you couldn't help noticing that in 48 hours time, you'd be at your appointment.

As you pulled out of the driveway, you used your voice to command your bluetooth to call Tyler.

"Hey," he answered, "what's up?"

"So, you know you can't masturbate or have sex for the next two days, right?" you asked.

He laughed, "Well, you could have at least says 'hi' back to me first."

"Sorry, hi," you said sincerely, "but you know, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Well, make sure you don't forget," you said, "Maybe you should...." you trailed off, looking over your shoulder as you changed lanes, trying to think what he could do.  Maybe put a post-it note on his pillow or something?

"You want to come supervise me?" he asked gruffly.

"Sorry," you cringed, "I just want to make sure everything goes right."

"It will," he reassured you, "But I got my part covered, okay?  Trust me.  You just have to worry about your part."

You took a deep inhale and exhale, knowing that he was right.  "Okay."

"Good," he said decidedly, and then added in a softer voice, "You alright?"

And you told him that you were because you were, for the most part, going about your next two days focused on your work, and being secure in knowing that everything that needed to be done was going to be done.  The night before though, you were restless, and you didn't think you'd ever be able to sleep.  

You picked up your phone, and then set it down, remembering that Tyler had to be at the clinic two hours before you did.  But then you picked it up again, texting him 'Are you still awake?"

Tyler: Yeah

Tyler: Can't sleep?

You: No :(

Tyler: Come over

Tyler: Bring your PJ's

You smiled, gathering up your pyjamas, a toiletry bag, as well as what you'd need for tomorrow, driving over to his place, you body pumping with adrenaline.  It wasn't really nerves, though, not really, more just really a state of anxiousness, of just wanting it to be tomorrow already so you could just do it.

Tyler suggested you take the dogs for a walk, and you assumed this suggestion was due to the fact that you were pretty much pacing in his kitchen or raising yourself up on your heels, pretty much unable to stand still.

So you did, enjoying the cool, night air, the quiet sidewalk illuminated by streetlights, so it felt like you were pretty much the only ones who existed.  

"At least give me one," you sighed, Tyler slowed down to untangle the leashes yet again.  This time you stopped, extending your hand.  

"I got it," he protested, and then you followed the line of his eyesight to a quick glance at your belly and....oh.

" Tyler, I'm not pregnant yet," you laughed, " And even if I was, I can still walk a dog."

He gave you a sheepish look, handing over one of the leashes.  You walked in silence for a moment, your mind wandering.  "Tyler?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think it's weird we're still friends?"

"Weird? No, why would it be weird?"

You stopped, because apparently there was an extremely interesting tree.  "I just mean, do you even still talk to anyone we went to high school with?"

"Other than you, no."

"Exactly," you said, " and, like, did you even think that we would be the ones who would still be friends? We didn't even really like each other when we first met, like, if it wasn't for Kirsten--"

"Why are you getting all philosophical and shit?" Tyler interrupted. "Obviously we were meant to be friends, it doesnt really matter why, does it? Seriously, youre so weird sometimes."

"No," you reasoned, "I was just thinking about it though."

"Sometimes life works in weird ways," he said.  He was quiet for a moment, and all you could hear was the sound of your shoes on the pavement.  "Y'know, you've actually been my friend longer than anyone.  Which means that you've got a headstart on being my best friend of all time."

"And do I get a prize if I stick around?"

"The prize is getting to be my friend," he scoffed, "Obviously."

When you got back to Tyler's place, you both got ready for bed, and he insisted that you watch a movie, despite the fact that you thought he looked rather tired.

"I feel like it's a good idea for you to stay here tonight," Tyler said, as you climbed into his bed, a wall of dogs practically separating the two of you, "it'll align our chakras."

"Align our chakras?" You laughed, "you're so weird."

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you adjusted the pillows behind your back, so you were sitting up.  Although, with the way the dogs moved into the now vacated space, you weren't sure you'd be able to lay down again.  He really needed a bigger bed, honestly.  "Moana?" You questioned, taking a look at the television screen.  

" Yeah, it's a happy movie," he said, "plus, I also wanted to see what all the hype was about."

You laughed softly, but settled in.  However, as you suspected, he didn't even make it 15 minutes in.  You still weren't ready to fall asleep, but you really did feel a sense of heaviness and calm take over your body, cuddling up and watching the movie in its entirety.

You heard Tyler get up in the morning, but he took care to keep quiet, so you were able to squeeze in a little extra rest.  Once you got up and got ready though, he still hadn't come back home, like you'd thought he would.  A small part of you worried that something hadn't gone quite right, but there were no calls on your phone, so you assumed he must have gone to work out or something, even though you also thought he would have told you.

As you drove, you focused on keeping your breathing steady and deep, stretching your neck out when you were stopped at an intersection, trying to keep your grip relaxed on the steering wheel.  

Once you got there, though, you were on a mission.  So much so, that you barely noticed the familiar figure sitting in a chair along the wall, legs extended and ankles crossed.  He looked over the magazine and gave you a small smile.  

" What are you doing here?" You asked quietly, keeping your voice low like you were in a library because it somehow seemed appropriate for the situation.  

"Waiting for you," he said simply.  But, even though you were here now, he made no effort to move, looking like he was comfortable for the long haul.  

You looked over at the receptionist and then back at him, "It's going to be awhile."

"I know, I'll wait."

Sure enough, when you came out, he was still there, setting down the magazine and standing up, slowly loitering off in the back of the waiting room as you made an appointment with the receptionist to have your blood taken in two weeks, meeting you at the door when you were done, holding it open so you could pass under his arm. "Thank you."

"Mhmm," he responded, as you stepped into the quiet holiday.  "how was your thing?"

"It was..." you paused, not knowing how to quite explain it, "fine.  Kind of weird, but fine."

He reacted lightly, with a quick glance to make sure you really were okay.  "Mine was great, thanks for asking," he said, "they gave me lube AND porn."

"Oh my god, Tyler...shhh..." you said, your face flaming red even though he was the one who was speaking incredibly loud in the otherwise pretty quiet medical building, and you could only assume everyone in the waiting room of the podiatrist's office you just past by had heard him.

Instinctively, you started walking faster, but he caught up to you, "I mean, the porn kind of sucked, but it was still porn," he said, just as an older lady stepped out of the optometrist's office looking at the two of your sternly, your eyes widening, and your gaze shooting nervously towards her, but Tyler just made a snorting noise as he tried not to laugh, finally bursting out laughing once she disappeared around the corner.

"You're going to get us kicked out of here," you said in a harsh whisper, grabbing his wrist and tugging it once to get him to move.

"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly, neither of you talking until you reached the bottom of the stairs, heading towards the doors, "So can I take you out for lunch?  Or do you have to, like, lay down or something?"

"I already did," you said, "that's what took so long."

"Oh," he said, his hand going up to scratch the back of his neck, "you don't have to, like, lay down with your legs up in the air now or something?"

"No, that's not how it works," you said, an amused tone to your voice, "we can get lunch."

"'K," he replied lightly. He offered to take his car and then come back later to grab your car so you agreed, although you noticed once he pulled out of the parking lot he looked at you just once with a sly grin on his face and then pushed a button on the console, directing his attention back to the road.

Music filled the car and you were trying to identify the song, until you heard the opening "Baby, ohhh..." from the Backstreet Boy's "Quit Playing Games with My Heart" and could see Tyler grinning widely at you and you started laughing, "Oh my god, seriously?"

"It made you laugh," he said, "I feel like that's a good thing."

He turned it up louder and, while you knew the lyrics off by heart, you couldn't help but laugh, thinking that this song was so inappropriate in that it had nothing to do with babies at all, and wasn't even a happy song, for god's sake, but Tyler kept doing some weird car dancing thing move, except for when he had to stop to sing all the "Oh Baby Baby"'s very loudly and very poorly, but also very enthusiastically, looking at you each time the word 'baby' was mentioned.  

You couldn't help but dissolve into giggles in the passenger seat, partially concerned someone was going to drive by and recognize him.  "You are such a dork."

[mergatroid-jones-blog]

Twin Mickey

(A short story)

* 1 *

I don't have a name. That's because there's nobody to give me one. There's nobody to call me by it either, due to the nature of my particular birth defect. I'm three eighths of one inch tall. Not only that, I don't have my own body. Not exactly. I live in my brother's head. We're twins I guess. Some kind of conjoined twins--only instead of being conjoined on the outside, I live inside his head. He doesn't know I exist. Nobody does.

For all I know I'm a very common medical phenomenon. Micky's never had a brain scan-- maybe I wouldn't even show up. That's my brother's name: Micky Van Buskirk. It's sort of my name too, since I don't have one. I stole a little piece of my brother's name. I steal a little piece of everything he has. I'm a parasite. That's what I've decided. Or maybe I'm cancer. I certainly don't do anything to help him. All I can do is sit around his head and complain. He can't hear me, no matter how loud I shout. You aren't designed to hear from the inside. I figured that out.

But that doesn't matter. I still scream about everything. What else do I have? It's like I'm chained to the floor in front of the worst TV show, and I can't reach the remote. Forever.  My brother really might be king of the idiots.  Like all the best idiots, he's just clever enough to convince himself that he's being awfully rational in any given situation. He's convinced himself that everything he's ever done was absolutely the only thing he could have done. He probably thinks he's had a really hard time of it. He hasn't.

I  know literally everything about him, but his motives are a mystery to me. Like when he stole Jacob Yockey's jacket in high school. It was sitting there, all lime green and fake-leather, and he just put it in his backpack like he'd been planning it all along. He didn't need the jacket, and he wasn't some kind of kleptomaniac. That was the only time he did something like that. He put it in the back of his closet and there it sat. He didn't wear it, and he didn't have anything against Jacob Yockey either. Jacob Yockey never hurt anybody. One day, Jacob mentioned that his jacket was lost, and my brother was there. Micky laughed, and he said “Soggy pickles.” What the hell is that??

That night,  he actually put the jacket on for the first and only time. He was still wet and naked from the shower.  He posed and made faces at himself for at least three minutes. My brother is barely five feet tall, quite fat, and covered in thick, curly, black hair. He's not physically attractive.   I heard Jacob Yockey lives in Toronto now, and he's gay and breeds expensive dogs. Good for Jacob Yockey I guess. He sure was funny looking in high school.

* 2 *

You would think that self-loathing and egotism would contradict one another, but they make surprisingly genial bedfellows. My brother will be convinced that he is worth less than the scum under a pretty girl's fingernail. Then in the same hour, he'll realize once again that the world is almost entirely  idiots, and that he miraculously isn't one. If they'd just ask the non-idiots, the world would get along better. Again, these sentiments seem like a contradiction, but my brother has never noticed the inconstancy. Most people don't seem to notice inconsistencies like that.

Perhaps they would notice if they spent a day as a pimple. That's how I think of myself: a brain-pimple. Like when you get a pimple on the inside of your nose, but deeper. My brother is always picking his nose, and he's not subtle about it. He used to eat his boogers, and he didn't stop until he was sixteen. He really is a disgusting shit. One time when we were about seven, he took off his pants, crawled under the  bed, and peed into the carpet. For no reason. What reason could he have possibly had? He just did it to test his body? To test the carpet? That carpet is still there by the way, and I doubt anybody has ever shampooed it. I  think I really hate him.

If I had to live in somebody's head, it didn't have to be such a boring nincompoop. Mickey Van Buskirk has never done anything I would care to watch. Weird stuff sure. Gross stuff, definitely. But nothing good. Once he spent a whole day sorta following around this old man who carried a trombone. I guess he thought the guy was a creep, but who's the creep when you're stalking some old guy all day? Weird stuff, he does. Gross stuff he does. I've seen him lick a banister after a pretty girl touched it at least nine different times. Nasty.

* 3 *

What a miserable little shit. Here's what happens every time: he gets a shitty job and he hates it. And he hates it more and more for a whole year. Then he throws a fit, quits, and gets a new shitty job. He's like clockwork. After high school, he told our mom he was going to be a pharmacist. Whatever happened to that? He was never going to be a pharmacist and he probably knew it. I'm sure Mom wasn't fooled. She's not stupid like Mickey.  

My brother has only ever had one girlfriend that lasted, and that's because she's an even bigger idiot than he is. Angela is her name. They've broken up four times. They broke up again last week.  He made out with her sister Kara. She did it to piss Angela off. He just did it because it was on offer. Fucking idiot. The thing was Angela wasn't actually all that mad about it. Kara was getting revenge for previous transgressions. But it brought up all this drama, and everybody hates each other now.

Good riddance.  I hope I never see those two again. Talk about entitled.  Not one of the three of them can form a cogent thought. Angela literally sets fires and puts them out for fun. But Mickey can't  find words to voice this legitimate concern other than “You're a psycho-bitch.” That doesn't tend to help. But who cares? She walked out and maybe it'll stick. Mickey got good and drunk after that. He got high on pills too. Good. I can share in that.  Then he looked at a bunch of “furry” porn. Disgusting. I really hate him.

* 4 *

He had hated his job at the print shop for almost a year, so I wasn't surprised when he threw a tantrum at work. My brother has always been able to throw a tantrum for what seems like no reason. I think he must plan it in advance. The printer was being crap, and Annie was blaming him for it as usual. So he started throwing boxes everywhere and screaming “It's fucking bullshit, and I can't fucking bullshit!” He said the word “bullshit” twenty-seven times in total. I counted. He ripped off his Clayborn Printing shirt, threw it at Annie, and walked out. She didn't say a word. I don't know if she was angry or amused. At least she had to deal with the printer herself. Horrible woman.

Then what did he do? He called Angela crying and babbling incomprehensibly. I was surprised she hung up on him. Good for her. Then his classic pity party. I've seen it a thousand times. He buys a fifth of Wild Turkey and gets some pills. Angela is kind of a pill head and he's kinda one too when he's with her. Then he rolls down the windows (even if it's winter) and blares Linkin Park at full volume all the way to Foy Point in the national forest. It's isolated. It's also incidentally where he lost his virginity to Sarah Spiller who later turned out to be somehow related to us. Good going.

He did what he normally does. He drank as much of the fifth as he physically could. He smoked every cigarette he had. He used his lighter to blow a fireball with the bourbon, then he threw the bottle (still one third full) into a tree. All that was normal. Then he went for the pills, and I noticed he had brought every bottle that Angela had stored at his house. Most of them were almost empty, but it was quite an array. He dumped them all out into a Halloween candy-pile on the picnic table. He was going to kill himself! I screamed at him “YES! Do it! Finally, I'm done with you! I'm fucking done, you piece of living shit-fucking shit!” I really was excited.

* 5 *

He looked at all the pills, and he shuffled them around. There would have been enough to kill ten Mickey Van Buskirks and a thousand brain-pimple brothers. Then he arranged them by color. Then he shuffled them again. Then he took a little yellow one. Then he took a handful. No good. He couldn't swallow them all. He didn't have any water, and the bourbon was all over a tree. He puked. Now there were two Halloween candy-piles.

Foy point overlooks a creek, and it's not all that far down if you go through the brambly parts. Mickey did. He really wanted to die. I was proud of him. He took a Styrofoam cup from  Frosty Time, and filled it in the creek. The brambles cut him up, but he was too drunk to care. He took two handfuls of random pills, and swallowed them with creek water. Then he screamed “I did it!”

He had. I've never wanted anything more than to die. I would have been jumping up and down if I had legs. But then, Mickey Van Buskirk had an attack of cowardice. He was too much of a coward  even to take the coward's way out. He clutched at his uvula for dear life, and life it gave him. He made himself puke. Then again. Then again. More candy-piles. It was horrible to watch. He was covered in it. If he had waited just five minutes, I bet he would have been too far gone. What a failure.

* 6 *

He woke up the next day, sunburned and thirsty. He was covered in little cuts, and vomit, and Wild Turkey. I woke up too. Alive. I really hate him. Before he drove home (well below the speed limit) he produced his pocket knife. It always makes a satisfying click when he takes out the blade. A lot of things were carved into the picnic table. A crude owl. A penis. A fancy heart. One message said “Be happy.” Another said “Smoke a fat blunt biotch 420!”  Another said ambiguously  “Is waterlogged and so am I.”

It was important for Mickey to carve something into that table. It must have been important for him to stare at it so long.  Something big had happened there, and he needed to commemorate it. He needed to write a message of his own: to speak and be heard. After at least three minutes of staring, he carved his statement on the table very large above the owl.  Here's what it says:

“Fuck”

[themarchblessing]

SPECIAL EDITION: WELCOME TO THE WORLD BABY GIRL

SABRINA

Feeling movement against my fingers I opened one eye looking around the room. I’m still in the hospital I see. What a bummer. I looked to my left watching my baby fidget and squirm. She began to fuss just a tad and that’s when I knew it was time to jump into mommy role.

Sitting up straight I leaned over to lift her up in the air once I had a good hold on her. Corey and I definitely make some adorable babies. Just thinking of that made me laugh. I got my little girl situated in my arms atop the pillow and unzipped the sweatshirt I had on. Once she was latched on without a fight I laid back and basked in all her glory.

This pregnancy went by so fast! It feels like yesterday I was throwing up in my bathroom and acknowledging that baby bump for the first time. When I went over to Corey’s to see him for the first time in a month had me so scared and riled up. I didn’t know how he would take the news of me being pregnant. Neither of us planned to become parents but we also never used protection. From the first night we slept together I’ve never wanted or asked him to use a rubber.

To this day it still shocks me that he never took advantage of that. Every once in a while when we got too caught up or we were just having a really good day, he would “shoot up the club” as he stupidly calls it.

Stroking the top of her head I beamed at soft her hair is. “You got your hair from me. Don’t let your daddy tell you otherwise.” I joked. Lifting her closer to my face I closed my eyes and drank in her natural body scent. I love, love, love the smell of my babies. I took advantage of every chance I got to smell Izaiah’s face, hands, hair, and feet. It’s just so calming and heart warming.

My phone ringing pulled my attention away from the baby and to the chair next to the bed. Reaching over I answers Corey’s incoming FaceTime call.

I smiled in bliss at the sight of him. I hope he and Izaiah are on their way here because I miss my boys.

“Damn..I’m missing the show.” He complained right away.

“Stop, no seas desagradable.” I chuckled. “Where are you guys?” I asked.

“On our way back. We’re about five minutes away. How’s she doing? Did she just wake up?”

“Sort of. She’s been at it for only ten minutes. Did you get to hold her before you left?”

“Yes I did. You were knocked out so I took the opportunity to get my time in while you got some rest. Izaiah got to hold her too.”

Corey and I spoke for a few minutes ending our call just as the door opened. In walked my nurse with a surprised look on her face.

“Did you have any trouble getting her to latch on?” She quizzed. After she shut the door she wheeled over the vital machine and set her clipboard down.

“Not at all. She’s been eating for only ten minutes but so far no hiccups. And she’s not a biter. Which is great for me because her brother was a hardcore biter for a long time.” I shared.

“Oh I know your pain. My two boys were so hard on my nipples when they ate. I wanted to cry but I powered through the pain for the most part.” She cringed a bit at her own story and proceeded to check my vitals on the opposite arm that the baby was in. “So have you thought of a name yet?” She quipped.

“I have so many names that I love but I’m waiting for her dad to come back so we can make a decision. I feel bad because she’s been nameless for two weeks now. I feel so bad.” Chucking pathetically I looked up to see my boys walking in.

My nurse looked behind her and greeted them kindly. She finished up, wrote down my numbers and stepped aside to run through my chart.

Corey and Izaiah both washed their hands so they could come say hello to me and the baby. I let Zay lay on the bed with me while Corey moved the chair closer to the bed. His free hand on the back of my neck was tempting to put me to sleep.

“Well guys, I’m going to bring the papers in for you guys to sign for her name. I’ll be right back.”

“Have you made up your mind yet? About a name?” Corey asked standing up to kiss the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I have a lot in mind but I don’t think any of them fit her. What about you?” Looking up at him I searched his eyes seeing our daughter in him. She got his eye color. I found out the very first time she looked at me. I bawled my eyes out at the realization.

“I thought of three that I really liked. I do remember when you we were talking names the same night Zay and you got sick. We can keep her name simple.”

Focusing back on our baby I adjusted my arm and touched her chubby cheek. The most perfect little girl came from Corey and I. Seven pounds, seven ounces, beautiful sandy skin, pretty toffee brown eyes, curly hair that matches mine and the sweetest aura I’ve had around me. Thanks to my mother and my mother only, our daughter is going to grow up looking like she’s somebody else’s child. I can already see the comments pouring in about what she’s mixed with and who her parents are. Izaiah, Corey, and myself have a brown complexion. While Corey is a shade darker than Zay and I, he’s pretty close in comparison.

The nurse came back in the room and as soon as she did, we agreed on a name. We signed her birth certificate and took care of her foot prints once she was burped and changed. They cleared me to go home and boy was I ready to go. I’m ready to be in my bed, in the comfort of a space I’m used to. The ride home was fast. I got a bit dizzy for a good portion of the ride but once Corey pulled up to the house I felt better. Corey walked Izaiah inside and got the room setup I assume because he took his time coming to get me and the baby.

I didn’t want extra assistance of a wheelchair, I told Corey I’d prefer to walk. Although I’m in a great deal of pain I’m not totally cripple. Clutching the stairs with my right hand I took careful steps toward the bedroom.

“You okay?” Corey supported me from behind while carrying the baby in her car seat since I can’t.

“My legs hurt.” The pain from walking started to do me in. But I pushed through to the end. Feeling this bed underneath me had me crying just a little. Wiping my eyes I watched Corey kick his shoes off and stand next to me. He patiently waited for me to get settled and changed. Once all that was out of the way I gave him the okay to hand the baby off me to.

“I’m gonna get your bags out of the car and then I’ll be up. You want anything before I come back? You need anything from anywhere? ‘Cause you know I’ll get it. No matter what it is.” He bargained.

Laughing at his old ways kicking into overdrive I shook my head. “No baby I’m okay. Just hurry back up here. Bring Zay in here too please.” I requested. Sinking into the pillows I smoothed out the towel I was sitting on.

“Give me like fifteen minutes. I’ll bring you some tea cause I know you’ll need it.” I welcomed his kisses and basked in the glow he had returning the same love to our little girl. “Welcome home baby girl.” He quickly left the room since we both know how anxious he is to hold her again.

I turned on the tv letting anything play low enough to hear what’s going on outside of the room. The serene energy coursing through this house is everything I’ve been praying for. That along with a healthy and safe arrival of my little baby. While I waited for the boys to come in here I called Ravyn and my mother so they could see the baby for the first time ever. Both of them were teary eyed and full of joy at how little she is. All three of us agreed that she’s going to be beyond spoiled by her father.

They know how badly Corey splurges on me so we can only imagine what lengths he’ll go for our baby. By the time the boys made it up here with my stuff from the hospital and my tea I was close to crashing. I handed her off to Izaiah first loving the way she looked in his arms.

“She’s little right?” Laying my head on Corey’s shoulder I crossed my legs over each other.

Izaiah nods and gently swayed from side to side. “She smells really good. I thought babies smelled weird?”

Corey and I broke into a fit, shaking our heads at the same time.

“I guess it depends on the baby.” I shrugged.

“What about me? Did I smell funny?” He asked.

“No, you smelled really good too. I always loved to smell your hair, hands, feet, toes, and everything really.” I admitted.

Zay glances at Corey and raised his eyebrows before glaring at me.

“What?” I chuckled.  

“That’s weird mom.” He said.

“It’s a normal thing for a mother to do with her baby. Support her head like this,” sitting up just a little I helped Izaiah correct his form to support his sisters head. “She doesn’t have any muscle strength yet so you’ve got to be very careful when you hold her ok? She’s very fragile and can easily get hurt. Just like you when you were first born.” I informed.

Izaiah took my criticism well and followed my advice to the fullest. I fell asleep watching my son bond with his baby sister. I woke up to the sound of Corey talking to what sounds like Brian. Turning over to the other side I pulled my hair out from under my arm.

“She’s honestly too beautiful for words man. You are gonna have so many problems on your hands.” Brian jokes.

“No I’m not. My baby is gonna be alone until I die. What’s a first date? What’s prom? Or any of that other bs..” Corey argued strongly.

“Yeah you say that now. But the minute she looks at you with those eyes saying “please daddy can I go with him?” you’ll have melted by then. Lil mama is gonna have you and Bri wrapped around her fingers. Speaking of the new mommy, how’s she doing?”

Corey glanced down at me and put the camera on me.

“There she is. Hey girl. How are you?” Brian smiled at me. I saw Carli tiptoe across the background in the tiniest g-string. Thankfully Corey wasn’t looking at the screen.

“Hi Brian..I’m good considering that I’ve only been home for a hot minute. Other than that I’m okay. How are you?” I rebutted. Sitting up straight with the covers hiding me I made sure to remain covered.

“Doing pretty good. Y’all coming to the wedding right?”

Both Corey and I looked at each other completely shocked. “You proposed to Carli?”

“Yeah man I did.” Brian called out to Carli and she came running. She was wearing clothes this time.

“Hi guys..oh my gosh she is so gorgeous. Damn, you two make a beautiful baby.” Carli grinned.

“Thank you.” Corey and I said simultaneously.

“It didn’t take that much work.” He suggested. Scoffing I elbowed him and asked to see Carli’s ring. The four us got quiet when the baby started yawning and making noises. She drifted off to sleep again giving us the clearance to talk again. We rambled on for a good forty five minutes.

“How’d you sleep?” Corey put his phone aside and reverted his attention to me.

“Not bad actually. Aside from the stitches and the pelvic pain, I slept okay.” Sitting up a tad I looked around the room for Zay. Finding him hidden under the blanket at the foot of our bed I laid back down. Rolling over on my back I tossed my hair above my head, getting lost in the fan blades spinning.

“You call your mom and Ray?”

“Yeah. I called my mom first and then I called Ravyn. Seeing them cry made me cry, go figure. What about your parents? Have you spoken to them?”

“Brian and Carli stopped by the hospital yesterday before he got called to work. They got Elle some blankets, flowers, stuffed animals, and a bracelet. My folks said they have some packages on the way as of three days ago. They should be here tomorrow.” He explained.

Nodding along I threw my leg over his. “My body hurts so much. I don’t want to take those meds but I know I have to take them.” My face pinched, I felt my a cramp flow from my right rib cage down to my right thigh.

The bed shifted and as I heard Corey walking around I sat up in bed. I motioned for him to flip the switch to cut this fan up higher.

“Babe it’s fucking hot, is the air on?” I groaned. Stretching my cami out I fanned my neck and chest.

“It’s on. Just breathe for a second. Here, open your hand.” Without a word or fight I accepted my medication, chasing them down with a mass amount of saliva. Remembering the tea I found my cup and swallowed as much as I could. I took every bit of heat setting the mug aside once my throat was empty.

Corey was scribbling in a black notebook softly patting the baby’s back.

“Que haces?” I spoke, standing to get out on my feet. Holding my fingers against the bed I walked over to where he was.

“Every time something happens with you. Any pain, outburst because of pain, missed medications, you name it I’m writing it down.” Closing the book and pushing it aside he tucked the pen behind his ear. Holding my hand Corey helped me sit on his free leg wrapping his arm around my waist.

“My doctor tell you to monitor me?” I sassily assume.

“Mhm. For someone who just got out of the hospital you smell pretty good. Just like her.”

Throwing my hair behind me I pulled up the strap to my camisole and picked up the baby’s foot. I put my lips to her squishy sole kissing the skin.

“Thank you so much for taking good care of me while I was pregnant. You went above and beyond for me and I can’t think of a better person to have been in your shoes.” Setting her foot down I flattened out the material of her onesie in various areas.

“It was my pleasure. I kinda miss that belly of yours. But I like having our baby girl in our world a little better.” He smirked.

Leaning into him I kissed the side of his head over and over. He and I watched as she began to wake, squirm, yawn and stretch about. I’ve fallen in love a total of three times in my life. Corey was first, Izaiah second, and our princess last but never the least. Moments like this I can feel my daddy’s presence nearby watching over us. I’ll never not have a day where I don’t weep over the loss of my father. However the comfort of knowing he’s safe and at peace is what matters to me.

“God, you look just your mommy. I can’t wait to spoil the hell out of you. Your birthdays and Christmas will happen year round with me. Daddy takes care his like you wouldn’t believe. But one day you’ll see.” Twirling the curls in Corey’s hair with my free hand I continued to admire the child we created together. “Ellena Sanaya Howard, welcome home.” He whispered.

[pocketsizedsam-blog1]

The Unexpected Perks of Being a Nanny~ Chapter Thirty-Four

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Cursing

Betas: @mack-winchester @invisibledevour

You had been released from the hospital a week after you had given birth. You were fighting an infection that caused you to stay for an extra four more days. But a month and a half later, you were home, happy and healthy. The both of you were. Jared’s hiatus was over, leaving you with four kids, two of them in school, a toddler and a newborn. But you couldn’t complain- you signed up for this job. It was the very end of August, the hot weather was starting to get to you. Luckily enough, your home had air conditioning. Even if you couldn’t keep it on too long, it was a little sliver of hope. After a few minutes the house would be like an ice box and Danika started to fuss. Your daily routine started with waking up from Danika’s cries at six in the morning. Then at seven you got the boys up and fed them breakfast. Odette would be up at seven-thirty and she was only happy after a ten minute cuddle, so you did that while the boys brushed their teeth. Then you strapped Danika to your chest with the Lenny Lamb and held Odette’s hand as she insisted on being an independent one and a half year old, before putting the two girls in the SUV. Thomas and Shepherd climbed up into the vehicle, buckling themselves in. You doubled checked their seat belts, just to make sure before driving them to school. After dropping the boys off, you went through the nearest Tim Hortons drive through and picked up a tea before heading back to your heat swamp of a house. Danika was nearly asleep by the time you got home. She’s a nosy baby, she’s always got to keep her eyes open in case there’s any drama.

You picked Danika up carefully and strapped her up in the Lenny Lamb again before Odette looked up at you and screamed, “no, mommy, no!”

She rambled on. You could on really pick a word or two out but you managed to get the gist of her message. “Leave” and “Baby” were very present in her speech.

“No, Odette. Mommy can’t leave the baby. Danika has to come with you and mommy inside the house.”

“No! Leave in vroom vroom!” She started to cry.

Danika woke up and let out a big wail. You had been home alone with the kids in the morning for about a week now and not once has Odette thrown a big fit like this. You rocked Danika back and forth in an effort to calm her down while you spoke to Odette.

“Baby O, you’ve got to stop. You can’t keep waking Danika up like this. She needs to sleep. Okay? When you were a little girl her size, you used to love sleep too. Now if you be really good, mommy will take you to see Daddy while he’s at work.”

Odette gasped,” daddy?”

“Yeah, but only if you stop crying Okay? After Danika has a power snooze and after you stop crying, mommy promises to take you to see daddy.” You smiled.

Odette wiped her tears.

“Otay mommy.”

“There’s the good baby O I like to see.” You smiled, reaching down to kiss her on the forehead.

You grabbed Danika’s diaper bag and locked up the car, then you proceeded to take Odette’s small hand into yours as you led her up to the door.

“Mommy will get you breakfast now in a minute, after I put Danika down for her nap.”

“Otay mommy.”

You brought the, bow bubbly toddler, into the family room and sat her down in front of the tv, allowing her to watch an episode of bubble guppies on treehouse. Next you brought Danika upstairs and put her down in her bassinet. She went down without a fuss which was awesome for you! You’re getting better at this parenting thing! It was an hour later before you decided to wake Danika up as fulfil your promise to Odette. You loaded both little girls up into the car again, along with a diaper bag, extra bottles for Danika, and extra change of clothes for both girls, some toys for Odette and snacks for Odette. A mom never leaves their house prepared- well almost prepared. You rushed back in the house after forgetting your car keys.

“Can’t go nowhere without these.” You picked them up, coming face to face with Arlo.

He whined and looked up at you.

“Oh alright.” You sighed, grabbing his leash and leading him out to the car too.

You put Arlo up in the passenger seat. You drove for about half an hour until you reached Jared’s place of work. The last time you came here, you were pregnant and Jared’s depression was acting up. You couldn’t imagine going through that again- but you were prepared to do it for Jared. You held Odette’s hand Arlo’s leash in your right hand, you threw your keys in the diaper back and swung that up over your shoulder, while carrying Danika in her seat. Opening doors were a challenge, but you managed to pop one open. You didn’t know whether Jared would be filming or in his trailer or in meetings of some sort but you guessed you would find out after entering the staging building. Inside you seen a bunch of sets from his show, like the library from the bunker, some random motel rooms and hell. It was all so cool!

“Daddy!” Odette exclaimed, letting go of your hand and pulling away from you.

She ran onto the set of the kitchen from the bunker where Jared and Jensen were filming.

“Hi, baby girl!” He picked Odette up and spun her around. “How’d you get here?”

“Mommy. Baby no come.” Odette rambled on.

“Baby Danika isn’t here?” Jared questioned.

“Oh she is.” You giggled stepping out onto the set. “Odette just like to think mommy’s going to leave the baby somewhere else.”

“Baby O, you know that Danika’s gonna go wherever mommy goes and wherever mommy goes, you go. Danika’s always going to be around, she’s your baby sister.”

Odette remained quiet as she looked back at Jensen. Jensen started making funny faces at her and she started to giggle.

“Hey, Odette? Can you tell daddy why we’re here?” You pulled on her hand to gain her attention.

“Why here?” She shrugged.

“Because you started to throw a fit in the middle of the driveway this morning… didn’t you?” You said sternly.

It was more of a teasing-sternly. You weren’t mad with Odette. She was only one and a half years old. You didn’t expect her to like her sister and understand that Danika needs constant care.

“She wanted me to leave Danika in the vroom vroom.” You giggled.

Odette’s name for the car was vroom vroom due to its sound.

“Oh, Odette. You’re daddy’s silly girl.” Jared smiled, kissing Odette’s cheek.

“So mommy made her a deal. What did mommy say Odette?” You asked.

“See daddy, no cry!” She exclaimed.

“That’s right! Mommy said if you stopped crying, she’d take you to see daddy after Danika had a nap.” You confirmed.

Speaking of Danika, she was still asleep in her carrier. She woke up and fussed a little bit when you put her in the carrier, but she quickly fell back to sleep when you started driving.

“She’ll probably wake up hungry. When she woke up this morning she ate, but not a whole lot. My boobs were really hurting so I pumped some bottles if you want to feed her, Jare.”

“Yeah I do.” Jared smiled. “Odette do you want to go see Uncle Jensen?”

“Unca!” She reached for Jensen.

Jared handed his oldest daughter off to Jensen.

“Let’s head back to my trailer and warm her bottle up there.” Jared suggested.

“I’m going to take little miss here for a walk.” Jensen nodded towards Odette.

“Thanks Jensen.” You smiled, giving Danika in her carrier to Jared. “It gets heavy after a while.”

You, Jared and Arlo headed back to Jared’s trailer while Jensen took Odette for a walk around set.

“So other than Odette meltdown, how was your morning?” Jared asked.

You shrugged, “it was okay I guess. Same as any other morning. I got the kids up and ready for school, I got a tea, Odette and I watched tv while Danika napped and then we came here.”

Jared opened up the door of the trailer and let Arlo run in first, then he held it open for you. Next he put the carrier in front of him and hopped up over the stairs, closing the door behind him.

You dug through the diaper bag and found one of the pumped bottles of milk then popped it in the microwave for 30 seconds. Jared set the carrier on the floor then sat down in front of it as he carefully unhooked the fastens. Danika started to stir as Jared took her out. She opened her big brown eyes and let out a cry.

“I know, sweet girl.” Jared cooed, putting her up on his shoulder. “Mommy’s got your food.”

He rubbed her back and kissed her head as he rocked her back and forth. Once the bottle was done, Jared sat up on the couch and lied Danika back in his laps. She took the bottle right away and looked up at her dad as he drank.

“She so beautiful.” Jared said, mesmerized.

“You say that every time you hold her.” You chuckled.

“I say it because it’s true. She gets her good looks from her mommy.”

“Oh stop it.” You blushed.

It was silent for a few minutes as Jared watched his newborn daughter eat.

“I’m surprised she even took the bottle. I guess it’s because she’s up in daddy’s arms. When she’s up with mommy she expects boob.” You concluded

Jared chuckled, “yeah.”

You took a seat next to Jared and held onto Danika’s little hand while she fed. Her four little fingers and one little thumb gripped onto your one finger like there was no tomorrow. She was just so precious. You knew that she would be grown up soon and that she wouldn’t be your little girl forever, but for now you were okay with her being so little and dependent on you. .

“Yeah.” Jared laughed.

You watched as Jared interacted with his daughter.

“You’re absolutely amazing with her.” You said in awe.

“Well, I do have a lot of experience.”

“Something I don’t have.” You sighed.

“You do so. You took care of Odette!” Jared reasoned.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged.

The trailer door opened all of a sudden and frightened you.

“One! Two! Free!” Odette counted as she climbed up over the stairs. “‘Iiiiii daddy!”

“Hi sweetie.”

“No! Baby, no!” Odette squealed. “MY DADDY.”

“Odette, no. I am Danika’s daddy too!” Jared said calmly.

Odette went into a fit and sobbed.

“I guess I shouldn’t have taken her back so early.” Jensen picked Odette up again.

Odette let out a wail and wrapped her arms around Jensen’s neck.

“Just take her back outside until I’m done feeding Danika. She won’t settle down until then.” Jared grumbled.

Jensen headed back outside with Odette.

“It’s no good to get frustrated with her, she’s only one and a half.” You explained.

“I know, but it’s just tiring always fighting with her.”

You checked your watch. It was almost time to pick Shep up.

“Shit, Jared I have to go as soon as she’s finished eating. I have to pick Shep up.”

After Jared burped her, you took Danika, Odette and Arlo to pick up Shep. By the time you got there, Shep was waiting with his teacher in the main lobby.

“Sorry, Sheppy. Y/N got distracted with your sisters and daddy.” You sighed, kissing him on the forehead.

“S’okay, Y/N.”

“I would never forget about you for the world.” You reassured him.

“I know.” He smiled up at you.

“How about we go get ice cream, huh? My treat for you and Odette.”

“Yay!”

You buckled Shep up in his seat in the SUV, that was parked right in front of the door. Then you drove to the ice cream shop and piled all the kids in there.

“Y/N?” Shep looked up at you as he ate his ice cream.

“Yes, buddy?” You divert your attention from Danika to the little boy asking you a question.

“Why don’t you have any ice cream?”

“Because, I’m helping Odette eat hers.” You explained.

“Oh.” He smiled.

Next, you bought a small, plain vanilla ice cream just for Arlo, seeing you couldn’t take him into the shop and loaded the kids back up into the SUV. You drove home after giving the ice cream to Arlo and took the kids out into the backyard. You lied back on the deck with Danika taking her afternoon nap while waiting for Thomas to get home. Later on that night, once Jared got home, he was paying more attention to the kids, and even the dog, than you. You didn’t know why Jared was being so cold towards you. That was one of your biggest fears. That Jared would lose interest in you once you had given birth to his baby. Ever since you became a biological mother, you haven’t had contact with a lot of your friends, either. You decided to text Danneel and Gen to see when they were coming up to Vancouver next. After putting your one and a half month old to bed, then your one and a half year old to bed, you spent some quality time with Tom and Shep before putting them to bed too. You weren’t looking forward to spending alone time with Jared, he’s been ignoring you all evening. You to say next to each other for nearly an hour, never saying a word to one another.

Finally, Jared spoke up, “is something wrong?”

“No.” You paused. “Why?”

-Yes! Can’t you tell? You haven’t talked to me at all!-

“It’s just… you’re quiet.” Jared looked down to the floor.

“Are you losing interest in me?” You blurted out.

“What?”

“Are you losing interest in me.” You repeated. “C’mon we’ve had sex once. Every time I try to get you in my pants, you turn me down. It’s either I’m too young or too pregnant. Well there’s nothing I can do about the too young thing but I’m sure as hell not too pregnant anymore! So, are you losing interest in me?”

“No! God no, Y/N. Why would you think that? Sweetheart, I love you so much. The age difference will always be there but that isn’t why we haven’t been having sex. We haven’t been having sex because we’re both so exhausted. Honey, I’m never going to lose interest in you.”

You took a deep breath and looked at him has he took your small hands into his large ones.

“Y/N, I love you.” He whispered in your ear.

You pressed a light kiss against Jared’s lips before pulling away from him. Jared leaned in even further and kisses you for a second time. It was roughed than the kids you previously gave him. You swung a leg over Jared’s lap and kissed him again, harder this time. Jared’s hands made their way up under your shirt. He ran them up over your sides as you were grinding down into his crotch. You two shared another kiss just before the baby monitor lit up. You heard loud cries coming through the speakers. You sighed, resting your forehead against Jared’s.

“It’s like she knows!” You exclaimed.

“You stay here.” He gave you a kiss.

“I’ll go up and see if I can’t get her back to sleep.”

“You’re the best. I hope you know that.” You smiled.

“Oh I do.” He gave you a cheeky grin.

“You cocky son of a bitch.” You giggled as Jared headed up over the stairs.

Through the digital baby monitor, you could hear and see Jared entering the room. He picked up his baby girl and sat down in the rocking chair. You could hear him singing to her as he rocked back and forth. You didn’t realize how lucky you actually were to have Jared.

Tag List: @nanie5 @invisiblethink1 @reachforthestarsgirl @beckawinchester @steverogerswhore @invisibledevour @internationalmusicteacher @xthelittlethings @casiskween

[sureillthinkofabetteronelater]

Lazy Sunday

Nathanael stirred the liquid in his mug, staring into the black abyss that was his coffee. Right now, he would be ahead of his usual morning schedule: wake up at four. Possibly have an art inspiration, and draw until six. Then he’ll shower and be downstairs for six forty five, prepare breakfast for seven, and would be out of the house by eight.

But Nathanael was at home today, no work, so he didn’t have to leave the house. Theo hadn’t called, since, you know, it was a holiday. All the possible art projects he had in his studio were finished, and there had been no akuma attacks to keep him on his toes.

Nathanael sighed, taking a sip of his drink. Maybe he could make a new project, or take a walk by the Louvre, or -

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft thump of Chloe’s feet. “Morning Chloe,” he offered, taking her already cold espresso and putting in the microwave.

She only mumbled in response, pulling her duvet tighter around her body.

“What was that?” He asked, handing her her mug. She mumbles again, plopping down in the barstool. Nathanael hummed, leaning closer to her face. “What?”

“I said, Good morning, and, oh you look lost!” Venom was laced in every word, her yellow duvet slipping off her shoulders.

Nathanael stepped back, but only chuckled afterwards. He was used to moody-morning Chloe, and easily deflected her attack.

“Thanks, Chlo.” He sighed. She huffed in response.

Taking his own mug in hand, he kissed her forehead before walking out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into his studio. Paint covered the floor, walls, sheets, and everything else. His pottery wheel sat in a corner, fresh clay sat opened. It was probably dry. His watercolours were somewhere among this mess, and so were his oils.

But this was Nathanael’s happy mess, and Nathanael needed a good distraction.

Setting his coffee down he began to organize his belongings.

Mr Kurtzberg was officially in work mode.

---

Of course, Chloe didn’t mean to yell at Nathanael, but sometimes he’s just so deaf. She was Chloe Bourgeois, and Chloe Bourgeois- Kurtzberg, she meant Kurtzberg, did not have to repeat herself three times.

But since it’s Nathanael, she’d let it slide.

It was Sunday morning, and Chloe wanted to sleep. She also wanted a cuddle. Oh, and a hot espresso. Chloe honestly doesn’t know what poison her husband was trying to give her.

He went upstairs the moment he could, and now Chloe was curious as to what he was doing (she already knew, but playing dumb was just so much fun).

Pulling her yellow duvet over her shoulders, she marched up the many stairs to the art studio. Why did their house have so many stairs?

“Nath,” she called, but her voice was drowned out by the music playing in the room. “Nathan?” She echoed, leaning against the doorpost. He husband was at his pottery wheel, spinning the clay effortlessly. His fingers glided across the material as if it was silk. It was truly mesmerizing.

But Chloe Bourg- Kurtzberg, needed cuddles, and she was determined to get them.

Discarding her duvet on the floor, she walked into the room. Placing her hand on his knee, his leg stopped moving, the wheel coming to a gradual stop.

He looked up at her, bright teal eyes wide with curiosity. Her sharp blue eyes met his own.

“Nathanael, get up.”

He stared at her dumbly. Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Nath, it’s a lazy Sunday, get out of your, what is it, quiet solitary, and cuddle with me.”

Nathanael stared at her, his hands falling to his sides, as he stood up. “Okay,” he drawled, and Chloe’s calm eyes went wide with alarm. “Come here Honey Bee.”

She screeched running out of the room, not even bothering to grab her blanket. The redhead behind her hollered his warcry, tumbling after her.

“KURTZBERG DON’T YOU DARE!”

He only laughed, advancing on her by the minute. Running into the bathroom, she locked the door, her kwami flying out of her pants pocket.

“Chloe what’s wrong? You seem alarmed.”

“Nathanael ‘I want a death warrant’ Kurtzberg, is chasing me with clay on his hands. Clay, Pollen. Clay.”

“Yes, yes, I know. You said that about, what, three times.”

Chloe glared at her kwami, and her gaze was met with an equally terrifying one.

“Chloe,” a voice chided. The two beings jumped at the sight of Duusu, who had phased through the door. The blue kwami formed a smirked, that resembled her master’s a little to well. “We found you.”

“NO!” Chloe screamed, before slamming a hand over her mouth.

“Hey, Chloe, I know your mad, but if you keep screaming, they’re going to wake up. Do you want them to wake up?”

Chloe shook her head, and as if he could see her, he said, “I thought so.”

Slowly she opened the door, revealing a smirking redhead, and before she could retaliate, two wide palms cupped her face. “NATHANAEL!” She half squealed half growled.

“Sorry Honey, but that’s life for you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, as their two kwamis flew into their respected hiding places.

“You still up for that cuddle,” he asked, his beautiful teal eyes stared down at her. She smiled softly at him, just like how she did ten years ago when she ran into him at the art museum. Those glassy teal eyes still haunted her today.

How could she possibly say no?

---

Yes, it was cruel to plaster his clay covered hands on Chloe’s face, but it was fun while it lasted. Said woman rinsed her face, before pulling him into the washroom so he could wash his hands. A water fight soon followed.

A few moments later, they found themselves downstairs, Chloe’s espresso long forgotten. She glared at him when he asked why she didn’t finish it, and mumbled something about liquid food poisoning.

Nathanael rolled his eyes.

The pair stood in the kitchen, Chloe mumbling under her breath as she looked through the fridge. She grabbed a vanilla yogurt, before heading to the common room, dragging a restless Nathanael behind her.

She pushed him down on the couch, before taking her place beside him. She opened the yogurt, taking a long sip of the dairy product. Nathanael watched as she did so, not that it was creepy or anything.

“Kurtzberg, look. You know I love you, and that I don’t mind you staring, but not while I’m eating. That’s weird.”

Nathanael blushed looking away. Chloe let out a long sigh. Putting her yogurt down, she turned to look at him. “We’re not twenty anymore, stop blushing like that.” But that only made him blush harder, his cheeks becoming hot.

“Oh my gosh.”

Nathanael tried to laugh it off, but Chloe took his face in her hands. “Your face matches your hair, Kurtzberg.”

“N-no.” Chloe’s eyes widened, before she sighed. “You’re stuttering again.”

“N-NO!” He yelled, and Chloe laughed. “It’s okay.” She dropped her hands, and settled for leaning on his shoulder instead.

He sighed, and leaned into her, and she smiled. This is what lazy Sunday feels like, right?

It was nice to not do anything.

That was until they heard the familiar steps upstairs.

“No,” Chloe groaned, trying to make herself smaller in Nathanael’s shirt.

“DADDY!” The little girl yelled, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing up and down. “VICTOR RIPPED MR CUDDLY!”

Chloe sat up then blue eyes wide. “Victor did -”

“I DID NOT!” The boy crashed down the staircase, almost running into his sister, who glared at him from over her shoulder. “I did nothing,” he repeated, panting.

The twins, Victor and Adina, were four, quite young actually. They were identical too. Strawberry blonde hair that reach their shoulders, with big teal eyes, and pouty lips. They were cute, cunning, and persuasive.

Just like their mom.

“He ripped Mr Cuddly, when, when, when…” Adina trailed off. “She broke my car.” Victor complained. Adina’s eyes glazed over with unshed tears, and Nathanael bounced off from his seat.

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” Chloe practically hissed. “Mr Cuddly was my teddy, and now he’s ripped. My mother gave that to me.” Victor’s eyes watered too when he realized he made his mother sad.

“No, no, Vicky, it’s fine.” Chloe forced a smile, bending down in front of them.

“No it’s not,” Victor mumbled. Nathanael gave Chloe a dry look. She shrugged.

“Victor, mama was just joking.” Nathanael whispered. “We can take Mr Cuddly to aunty Marinette’s, she’ll fix it.” Two big set of teal eyes looked at him.

“Can we go today?” Adina asked, rubbing her hand across her nightdress. Victor nodded.

Nathanael looked at Chloe helplessly, and she shrugged. He gave her a dry look. She sighed, smiling at the twins. “I’ll call uncle Adrien, and see what they’re doing. Maybe you can have a playdate with your cousins.”

The twins squealed, jumping up and down, before bolting upstairs.

“Do we have to go today,” Nathanael whined, returning to his seat on the couch, his wife following. Chloe groaned, pulling out her phone. “It’s lazy Sunday,” Nathanael tried, as Chloe’s fingers hit the keypad. Then she raised the phone to her ears, and Nathanael cried.

After two long minutes, Chloe hung up. “They’re available.” Nathanael groaned, trying to sink into the couch.

The twins trotted down the stairs, talking loudly among themselves. Nathanael tried to make himself even smaller. “We can go.” Chloe confirmed. The twins squealed, charging towards them, throwing themselves on their ever disappearing father.

“No,” he grumbled. “It is a lazy Sunday. We are not going anywhere.” The kids groaned. “Nathanael stop being such a butt.” Victor giggled at that.

“Ha ha. Very funny Victor.” Nathanael deadpanned.

“As I was saying, we can go to aunty Marinette’s, and spend the rest of the day there.”

“Will Daddy get to be lazy?” Adina asked, obviously worried about her whiny father. Nathanael nodded vigorously.

Chloe rolled her eyes again. “Yes, he’ll get to be lazy.” The father-daughter duo cheered.

“But first,” all three pairs of teal eyes looked at her. “We cuddle.”

---

Her family gave in easily, the kids sitting on their dad. Of course, they sat on Nathanael, never her. But she didn’t mind. They were heavy anyway.

Besides, she needed to answer some emails.

An hour had passed, before she looked at her family again. In each arm, Nathanael held a twin, and they all slept so soundly, despite the quiet snoring that belonged to Adina.

Chloe smiled as she watched them sleep. Her family. No one else’s.

“That’s kinda creepy, Kurtzberg.”

Chloe jumped at the sound of Nathanael’s voice, her cheeks warmed up. Her husband smirked.

“Shut up,” she quipped, but there was no anger in her words. Just happiness.

The happiness of being with her family. Her family.

No one else’s.

FIN